#but when i drew this i thought it worked well for boyd so he got it

[soupy-cosmos]

Louie and Boyd drawings based on the color palettes from some single covers

Louie’s is Crush by Tessa Violet

Boyd’s is Find Out by Khai Dreams

[theheathenousfish]

A continuation of professor andreil. I will not apologize.

It’s the weekend. Casey and 3 of his classmates are at a restaurant celebrating the end of midterms ( which they did pretty well on, if they do say so themselves)

They were looking at the menus when Owen noticed their professor walk through the door with a red haired woman on his arm

“Hey, is that professor minyard?” Owen asked the table “and is that his wife? Didn’t he kiss professor Josten like, last month?”

Casey swirled around to look at the couple, who were walking towards the table the dean and his wife are sitting at.

“ about damn time you bring her. Jesus kid you’ve been married 10 years” the dean, wymack, grumbles.

“Oh my god!” AJ gasps “he wasn’t lying when he said prof josten wasn’t his boyfriend ! He’s the side piece!”

A few minutes later professors day, Boyd-wilds , walker-Reynolds, and Josten walk in and to the table.

“ hey Matt, how are the kids?” Prof josten asks

“ Neil! My man! Teenagers are so hard. Cody and Marlo have discovered my college photos and are giving me shit for how my hair looked”

Just then, a second minyard enters and sits down? It’s Avery’s turn to say something “I’m sorry, what? He has a twin?” Therefore she does.

Professor day scowls and says “ Neil your monster is here.”

“Drew! I thought you couldn’t make it”

“ sit down, junkie.I’m here.” Prof minyard mutters. In a louder tone asks “ why are we here day?”

“Why do you have something you were going to do?”

“ I want to go home and do nothing.”

Prof josten chokes on his water.

“ kevin” Mr wymack says “ tell them or I will.” Prof day huffs “ wymack is my father. I found out last year and I told him a week ago.”

“ this is why I’m here? Kevin, I could be asleep right now. I just worked a 24 hour shift.” Possible prof minyard complains

“Aaron! Be nice.” The red haired woman scolds

“ ok, so, that’s not our minyard.” Casey confirms

“Our minyard?” Aj asks

“Yes”

After about an hour of the teacher meeting talking about stuff, they start to, one by one, venture back home. All that’s left is the real professor minyard, prof josten, and the dean and his wife( who’s name is apparently abby)

“So, um, wymack, we have news. Andrew and I are married. We thought you should know first.” Prof josten states

“Oh! Congratulations boys! When did this happen?” Abby gushes

“5 years ago.” Prof minyard says flatly

“Christ, you two will be death of me. 5 years? Seriously?” Wymack sounds exasperated

Once the teachers leave the students just look at each other stunned.

“So he’s not the side piece, he’s the main piece.” Aj says so solemnly everyone else thinks she’s trying to be funny. She’s not.

Andrew is running late for work. Like, stupidly late.

When they got home, Neil jumped him and they’d spent most of the night having mind blowing sex, then when he woke up it was 10am and sir jumped onto the bed landing directly on his dick. Neil just laughed at that.

His coffee had grounds in it.

He grabbed Neil’s lunch on the way out.

And he’d forgotten to put his ring on.

He was having a bad day.

Thankfully most of his class was also late. “ today we will be visiting the butcher case. The key points are on the board, write them down. Neil josten will be joining us”

Just then Neil walks in, looking so fucking gorgeous. How dare he.

“ hey Drew. I brought YOUR lunch and some coffee. Also your ring is in my pocket if you want it.” Neil says. He’s so sweet, he’s beautiful, and kind, and Andrew loves him.

Andrew pulls Neil in by his pocket and gets his ring out. He puts it on, obviously.

“Care to introduce yourself junkie?” Andrew drawls

“Sure. Hello, my name is Neil josten, I’m here to consult on the butcher case. Any questions?”

A student raises his hand “are you two married?”

“That’s none of your concern,” Neil says coldly

“Why are you consulting on this case?” another student asks

“Because this case is personal, and also because Andrew asked.”

“ sit down rabbit.” Andrew murmurs “We will start with Nathan wesninski’s connection to the yakuza,specifically the moriyamas.

Neil and Andrew switch places when it’s stated that a college student was kidnapped and tortured

“ in fall of 2006 i was kidnapped and tortured by my fathers people. I was brought to my childhood home where my father was going to question and kill me. My uncle on my mother’s side came to my aid, and shot my father. By then I had sustained serious injuries to my face, arms and hands. I was brought to a hospital with two FBI agents in my room. I was demanding to see my teammates. In spring of that year my father killed my mother, she died on a beach in California. Her body was recovered by the FBI for evidence.” Neil recounted

“Junkie” Andrew asked softly

“ I’m fine.”

“I want a 20 page report on my desk by Friday.”Andrew told his students

Neil didn’t have class today, Andrew knew.

“Drew. I need to go. I want to go home. I need you.” Neil whispers

“I know ,love, I know. We will.” Andrew reassures him

They got home hours ago, and Neil immediately went to their bed and beckoned Andrew to come lay down with him.

Andrew was happy. He was so fucking happy.

Neil was kissing down Andrew’s neck as he thought. Andrew gave a shiver of pleasure when Neil sucked a mark just under his ear. He was going to have to cover that up tomorrow.

Andrew was home

[wizardbronla]

Fenro week 2022 prompt 3

(Also I just realized I screwed up the prompt order, but enjoy anways!)

Gyro was in a very rotten mood. Fenton knew it, Lil’ Bulb knew it. Hell, at this point? The whole building probably knew it.

Why was Gyro in a horrid mood? Well, he was being forced to head to Hawkaii for a Science conference the next day.

Most people would be thrilled to be going to Hawkaii for free, but Fenton knew that Gyro hated missing work. It was probably because of Gyro’s anxiety, but he wasn’t quite sure.

Fenton felt pretty guilty, and he knew why. The truth was, there was no actual conference in Hawkaii. Fenton had planned the whole thing, and with the help of Mr. McDuck, they had successfully tricked Gyro into taking a relaxing vacation.

Now all Fenton had to do was get through the rest of the day without accidentally spilling his secret.

Easy, right?

—

Against all the odds of his slippery tongue, Fenton made it through the day with only a few close calls.

Getting Gyro to actually leave the lab, however, was becoming the difficult part.

“Hey, Gy? We’ve got an early morning start tomorrow, and we need to get us and Boyd all packed. So…maybe we should head home now?” Fenton said cautiously.

Gyro just grumbled and didn’t move.

“Gyro.” Fenton said, losing patience. “It’s late. We really need to go.”

The chicken moved swiftly and angrily, grabbing his coat and leaving the lab without a word.

Fenton sighed. This…might be harder than he thought.

He followed Gyro, however it was difficult because he was walking fast and Gyro had very long legs.

When they got to their car, Gyro got into the passenger seat and slammed the door with full force. Fenton was surprised the window didn’t break.

The entire ride home was silent, and the fury emanating from Gyro was palpable.

Fenton sat quietly, with his head in his hand, staring out at the stars. He knew that Gyro got like this sometimes, but…it didn’t make it hurt any less that he didn’t want to go on a vacation with Fenton and Boyd.

He just had to be patient.

—-

When the car finally pulled into the driveway, Gyro turned off the ignition, and sighed with his head in his hands.

Neither the chicken nor the duck made a move to get out of the car.

Fenton was about to say something, before Gyro finally said, “I hate airplanes.”

Fenton balked. “What?”

“I always have. It’s gotten worse since the Library of Alexandria. I thought…I thought I was going to die, so soon after getting my son back.” Gyro confessed quietly.

Fenton felt a huge wave of guilt wash over him. He didn’t know…but now that he did, he was going to fix it.

“Gy?” Fenton said meekly, ready to confess everything.

Gyro took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. “And the stupid thing is, I’ve always wanted to go to Hawkaii.”

Fentons words fizzled out on his tongue. Gyro wanted to go to Hawkaii?

No one spoke for a few more seconds, until Fenton said, “Hey, I have an idea.”

—-

Fenton stepped out onto the deck of The Selene, Donald’s houseboat just before sunrise.

Donald had graciously allowed Gyro, Fenton, and Boyd to borrow it for their trip to Hawkaii, on the stipulation that he and Daisy got to tag along for the boat ride.

Fenton and Gyro were more than alright with that, as neither of them knew how to sail a ship.

Fenton drew in a deep breath of the salty ocean air, and only startled a little bit when long arms wrapped around him.

“Thank you, Fen.” Gyro whispered softly into his ear.

“Of course, Carinõ.” Fenton whispered back.

They cuddled comfortably for a few minutes, the only sound being the waves against the boat.

“You know, I knew from the very start that there was no science conference.” Gyro said, snapping Fenton back to reality.

Fenton could feel his beak and neck turn bright red. “Oh…you, uh, you did?”

Gyro chuckled softly and leaned his head on Fenton’s shoulder. “You and Mr. McDuck are both terrible liars.”

Fenton exhaled slowly. “Geez, I’m sorry, Gy. I-“

Gyro cut him off. “Sorry? I should be the one apologizing. I was such a jerk about it.”

Fenton reached back and ran his hand through Gyro’s perfectly tamed bangs. “How about we forget about everything that happened, and go make some breakfast? I’m sure there’s a small parrot that will wake up soon and be very hungry.”

Gyro gave a small chuckle. It was music to Fenton’s ears. “That sounds perfect, Fen.”

Fenton smiled. “Pancakes?”

Gyro grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the kitchen.

“Definitely.”

Thanks to @fenroweek2022 for the prompt!

[princecharmingwinks]

i cant believe you said you dont write for fandoms!! these are ending up AMAZING! have another fail date for you to make better: we went four-wheel driving over the dunes out bush, we took my car but he drove because he's done the route before. we were the second car in the convoy and because my car is a little smaller than the others it couldnt make it up the last dune! it nearly made it over before sliding back into the sand and ended up half buried! (1/2)

(2/2) the rest of the group had to drag and push us out with planks and chains etc while we were stuck inside because no way in hell i was opening the door to let the sand in! so three wheels in the sand, waiting on our rescue, irl it was a bit awkward but im hoping you'll rewrite a better ending <3

Awww concussed dragon, you are sooo sweet! Thank you! Your unique failed dates are great to work with. Alrighty, let's get into this one! So the pack got big in this one and while most don't have lines, I liked the idea of everyone being there (or almost for anyone I missed haha). I left some of the couple combos up to interpretation so feel free to ship at your leisure.

---

The pack, after much pestering from a certain human/spark, were finally going on their camping trip. The alpha had finally conceded when Stiles had shot him a pout and hopeful eyes. Derek had reluctantly agreed and ignored the snickering of his betas in the corner of the room.

On the morning of the trip, everyone was pairing up into groups of drivers and passengers so no one drove alone and there were less cars.

Derek and Stiles were the last members out of the rebuilt Hale House. Derek had been locking up and Stiles was finishing off some wards to ensure there were no unwanted visitors while they were away. He was still learning to harness his spark but small wards of protection were easy enough. Defensive magic was easier, offensive was another story.

Stiles threw his bag into the back of the jeep and glanced around.

"So, who's joining Roscoe and me?"

Erica snickered, "Derek."

"What?" Stiles and Derek snapped in unison. Well at least Stiles had a punctuation mark, Derek's not so much.

"I'm with Danny, Lydia and Jacks." Kira spoke up. "Scott, Malia, and Isaac are with Allison."

"I'm obviously with my boy." Erica jumped onto Boyd's back, who was used to his girlfriend's antics and easily caught her. "And Theo is meeting us there after picking up Liam from work. Everyone's paired up so that just leaves you two."

Stiles felt his heart flutter but managed to keep his voice even as he spoke, "Alright Alpha My Alpha, let's get going."

Derek didn't say a word as he slid into the passenger seat of the jeep. Everything would be fine.

Everything was not fine. Stiles was definitely going through a quarter life crisis at the realisation most of the pack were in couples. How did he not realise that? When had it become a prerequisite to start dating a pack member? And now it was just Stiles and the alpha. The alpha he had been in love with for years. Great...

"What's wrong?"

Stiles was pulled out of his internal panic by said alpha's soothing voice. Derek had softened over the years, showing care and concern for each member of the pack. He now bought scent-free nail polish for Erica (so the acid smell didn't upset all the were's noses), stocked Isaac's favourite gummybears and even hugged Kira willingly at her university graduation. Derek Hale was a softie.

"I'm fine, nothing wrong here, no sir." Stiles prattled. Even he heard the blatant lies without supernatural healing. He glanced to his side and was greeted by raised eyebrows.

"Ok, so I may have just realised how paired up everyone in the pack really is."

"Except us."

"Yeah," Stiles sighed. "Except us. Do you ever think about that? Like, why you haven't dated anyone since..." He trailed off. Derek didn't have the best track record for his love interests but he hadn't even been on a date for more than 3 years.

Derek looked out the window at the scenary, they were driving into the sand dune part of the journey, and for a moment Stiles thought he wasn't going to answer.

"I've been waiting."

Stiles blinked. Huh?

"For someone so smart, you're really clueless sometimes." Derek huffed, glancing back at Stiles.

"What have you been waiting for?" Stiles dared to ask. They had paused to allow Allison's four-wheel-drive to roll up the last sand dune, waiting for their turn. Roscoe would be the last time to make the climb.

"I thought it was my imagination at first but then you kept coming around and..."

It was Roscoe's turn now and Stiles slowly prepared for the final climb of the dune. He tried to keep focused on the task at hand, allowing Derek to speak his thoughts. You never rushed the alpha when he was being vulnerable.

"I know you kind of like me?" Derek voiced it as a question but all Stiles heard was sirens in his brain. Derek knew? Stiles' foot slid off the peddle and they immediately started rolling backwards, fast.

"Shit! Shit, shit shit." Stiles acted quickly but it wasn't enough. Roscoe descended the sand dune and sank, refusing to move. Sand on either side of them blocked the bottom of their doors. They were officially stuck.

Stiles rested his head on the steering wheel and slowed his breathing. There were multiple crises going on but most had solutions.

The others would work out they hadn't made the climb soon enough or Theo and Liam would find them on their way through. So either way, Roscoe being stuck wasn't a massive deal. The real dilemma was Stiles' outed feelings for Derek.

The same Derek that was eyeing Stiles with concern as he called Kira to request some assist. Stiles heard him hang up before the sound of a door handle being jiggled. He snapped his head up.

"Whoa there sourwolf, there is to be no sand storm in this car, thankyouverymuch." He reached out and tugged the alpha's hand away from the door.

"I figured me getting out and pushing was the preferred option to sitting here with you in a state of panic at my assumption."

Stiles pulled his hand back. "What?"

"Look, we can just forget I ever said anything, alright? I get I'm not the most desirable crush to have. It's probably just familiarity and your sense of loyalty that's fueled your scent around me anyway. Don't worry about it."

Stiles shook his head, "Oh no you don't. You opened that can of worms and I'm no coward." The spark met Derek's gaze. Had he been planning on ignoring his feelings for the alpha? Sure. But was he going to run away from a moment like this? Nope. Stiles Stilinski was a lot of things but after running with wolves and other supernaturals for most of his life, he knew when he needed to tackle something head on.

"Now, before you go down your rabbit hole of I'm-not-good-enough crazy talk, I've got something to say."

Derek nodded like the soft alpha he was and turned to face Stiles more fully.

"You, Derek Alexander Hale, are amazing. A little on the martyr side but that's because you are so protective of your pack. I'd be crazy to not fall in love with you. That's right, love not like. I've been in love with you for years but how was a kid like me going to catch the alpha's eye? I didn't want to ruin our friendship. This," He gestured between them. "This is important to me. I don't want to ruin it."

Derek released a sigh of relief? Stiles couldn't read his eyebrows which was disappointing when he was the most expert at interpreting the alpha's facial expressions.

Then Derek was darting forward and claiming Stiles' lips in a searing kiss. Stiles went with it, almost unbelieving that any of this was happening.

Derek eventually pulled back and rested his forehead against Stiles'.

"Worth the wait." The alpha whispered, grinning, bunny teeth all on display.

"Two way street here. You could've said something too. How long have you liked me?"

Derek blushed and it was only because they were so close that Stiles saw the pink of his cheeks and ears.

"I've always liked you, even if I didn't always show it. But love? I think I've loved you since you woke me up on an elevator floor by punching me. You could have left without me but you didn't."

Stiles pouted, "Since then?"

Derek raised an eyebrow, "What's wrong?"

Stiles pushed Derek back and clumsily crawled across the gear stick to straddle the alpha's lap.

"We could have been having the best sex of my life for years, Derek! Years! We've got a lot of making up to do." Stiles dove in to kiss Derek this time. The alpha happily drew Stiles in closer, curling his arms around the spark's slim waist.

A knock on the window, interrupted their make-out session. Boyd's face appeared with judging eyebrows to rival Derek's.

"Heard you needed a hand." Boyd spoke loudly with a smirk as Derek's hand moved away from Stiles' ass to rest safely on his back.

"What's Erica doing?" Stiles asked, leaning over Derek to squint at the blonde chatting wildly on the phone. Derek focused his hearing.

"Turns out I'm not the only one who was waiting." Derek grinned, "And everyone apparently owes Lydia money."

They did eventually get Roscoe out of the sand dune thanks to the advantages of going camping with multiple supernatural creatures. By the time everyone was settled in the camp and Erica had informed Theo and Liam on the events of the day, Lydia was a very rich woman.

Stiles couldn't complain though. Not when the alpha was snuggled between his legs as Stiles sat on the log and Derek roasted them marshmallows. Apparently no one trusted Stiles near an open flame following the incident with that vampire clan. Stiles combed his fingers through Derek's hair and looked around at the pack. This camping trip was the best idea ever.

--

Ok so I must confess I do not camp like...ever and have no idea how four-wheel-driving works so please forgive any major errors in that department. I tweaked things a bit from your prompt sorry. I just couldn't imagine Stiles letting anyone else drive Roscoe. Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for popping in!

[mrsalwayswrite]

Say You’ll Stay - Chapter 9

Fury/Band of Brothers Crossover Fic

There are a million excuses I could give as to why its taken me so long to update. So I will simply say- writer’s block. Here we are though! 

Tag List: @happyveday​ @alwaysindecemberfeels​ @saritanotserena​

Series Masterlist

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

He did not know what to do. He knew what he wanted to do. He knew what he should do. But when those two options were at odds, that left him in the quandary of what to actually do. 

 Either way, Anna was in trouble and did not even know it yet. 

 "Fuck." He muttered to himself. 

 "Something to add, Sergeant Collier?"

 Don looked over to meet the stern, blue eyes of Captain Winters. "No, sir."

 The redheaded captain stared at the tank commander for a moment before continuing speaking to the other officers in HQ. "This town here is a key point for supplies for the Germans. There is a railroad next to the town that intelligence says is crucial to them. Once we get control of the town, we'll secure it until 1st Battalion can relieve us." Winters said, pointing at a spot on the map laid across the table. 

 Don glanced back out the window, watching Captain Evans walk away from the HQ building. It had been three days since they arrived in Haguenau, and Captain Evans planned on leaving in two more. 

 The dark-haired intelligence officer began speaking next. "Our sources say it's only infantry there. It seems most of the tanks have been recalled back to Germany. Either way, we expect resistance but as to how much, we aren't sure."

 "That's why we are sending the Armored Division with you. Sergeant Collier will lead the four tanks in assistance." Winters said. "They will follow behind. At this point we've been asked to minimize damage to property but I will not trade it for lives. Understand?"

 A chorus of "yes, sir" answered him. 

 "Excellent. Fox Company will lead the assault with some of Dog Company in reserve. Have your men ready, you leave at oh-six hundred tomorrow. Any questions?"

 Don tried to focus on the rest of the discussion. He was leading his platoon for fuck's sake into another fight, but his thoughts kept drifting to Captain Evans leaving and what that meant. 

 Anna would be leaving too. 

 She had been sent to stay with Captain Evans, to be a medic and translator. She was never supposed to come to Haguenau. Don was never supposed to give a fuck about her. Their brief encounters back at that field hospital were supposed to be the extent of their interactions. Yet here he was. Worried for her safety. He and his crew were leaving tomorrow for the next fight. Captain Evans would leave the next day to start pushing into Germany. 

 His mind whirled with questions. Who would protect Anna? Who would make sure she ate and slept? Who would make sure she was looking out for herself just as much as her patients? 

 Don barely heard the dismissal from Captain Winters. The shuffling of feet and low cadence of voices heading towards the door thrust him back into reality from his dark thoughts. Without a word or acknowledging the paratroopers he would be working with, he headed out of the Battalion HQ and walked towards his lodgings. His mind raced with more questions than answers.  

 He knew what he wanted to do. 

 He knew what he should do. 

 Both options made him clench his jaw and want to punch a hole in a wall. 

 He trudged back to the house, throwing open the door, uncaring of the way it slammed into the wall. Stepping towards the common room, he saw Davis, Binkowski, Grady and a few others playing cards on a short table. A few others lounged around in the sunny room. 

 "What's the news, Wardaddy?" Binkowski asked, keeping his eyes on the cards in his hand. 

 "Leaving tomorrow. Oh-six hundred. Make sure your men got their shit together."

 "You alright, Don?" 

 He had not even heard Boyd come around the corner from the kitchen. His sharp gaze landed on his gunner, who was watching him warily. "Yeah, fucking fine." He snapped; his frustration was a writhing mess of snakes in his gut. 

 Christ, he needed some peace and quiet and a cigarette. Don stormed through the common room to head up the stairs, uncaring of the confused looks around him. In his haste to leave, he accidently bumped a flimsy chair someone must have left out. It just caught him at the right angle and dug into his side, nothing painful but just enough to infuriate him even more. He had not even realized how angry he was until the chair caught him, but it was the catalyst that released the pent-up frustration. 

 With a snarl, he grabbed the back of the chair and threw it against the wall. The sounds of wood snapping and breaking filled the now silent room. Without a word, without stopping, because if one person said something to him, he would beat the fucking shit out of them, he stalked up the stairs to his shared room. 

 After throwing the door open, he kicked it shut. The solid boom of the door slammed back only made him want to do it again and again. Instead he moved to drop onto the bed, sitting on the edge and quickly lit a cigarette. He took a long drag, the smoke immediately bringing some relief to him. 

 He was surprised Norman was not in the bedroom. When he left for the meeting, Norman had been curled up in the bed sleeping still. At first, he thought Norman slept so much because he was sick. Now he was beginning to wonder if the kid absorbed sleep like a desert soaking up a rainstorm; the rarity of it making it harder to ignore and easier to overindulge. 

 It could not have been even two minutes later when the bedroom door slowly opened. Don dropped his head in one of his hands, the other still holding the cigarette. 

 "Wanna explain what that was?"

 "Not now, Boyd." Don hissed, not looking up. 

 The gunner rocked back on his heels, the floorboards creaking under the motion. "A'right. Well, I'm just gonna be right here when you ready to talk."

 He chuckled darkly. Five minutes. He could not even get five fucking minutes alone. He tried to ignore Boyd as he stared out the window. 

 "Where's Norman?" He finally asked after taking another hit of his cigarette. 

 "Gordo took 'im to the aid station to see Anna."

 "She's not coming here?"

 "Dunno."

 "Fuck." Don whispered, rubbing a hand over his face. He suddenly felt like he should be in his sixties or seventies, not just recently turned thirty. His mind played over the past three days since they arrived in Haguenau. Besides that first day of their arrival, Anna had been over every day. He knew it was mostly to check in on Norman and make sure his cold did not worsen but she usually ended up staying for some time or if someone could convince or threaten her enough, she would also catch up on some sleep. During that time he had become so used to seeing her around, it felt strange to question if she was coming back or not. In his mind, she was a part of his crew, and he was positive he was not the only one to feel that way. 

 He needed her safe. 

 That was what everything seemed to come back to for him. He cared about her safety, like he would any of his crew. Except he knew, he wanted to be the one to keep her safe. To keep her gentle smile on him. To be the one she turned to. He felt like a moth drawn to her flame. 

 He knew what he needed to do. He doubted she was going to like it. Hell, if they got caught he wondered if he would lose his rank by going behind the backs of his superiors. He had to do something though. He had to keep her safe. Well, as safe as anyone could be while at war. 

 He knew the truth though- he wanted her close….to him. 

 With a groan, he stuck the cigarette between his lips then pushed against his knees to stand up. 

 "Where you goin'?"

 "Stay here."

 Boyd stood up, blocking the door. "What's goin' on, Don?"

 He debated just pushing Boyd out of the way before shaking his head. "Captain Evans leaves in two days."

 "Uh huh. Anna mentioned somethin' about the wounded finally being moved to a field hospital today. Probably why she ain't here."

 "We leave tomorrow." Don flatly stated. 

 Boyd's eyebrows drew together. "I feel like I'm missin' somethin'."

 "Anna is supposed to go with Evans. That was why she was sent."

 He could see the light bulb go off in Boyd's mind when what Don said finally clicked. His eyes widened, a myriad of emotions flickered across his face ranging from horror to frustration and what could be despair.

 "What…." Boyd stopped, looking off to the side and taking a deep breath before turning back to his commander. "What we gonna do?"

 "I'll take care of it."

 "Don…."

 "Stay here, Boyd. Start gettin' ready to leave tomorrow. I won't be gone long." This time he did gently push Boyd out of the way and with a long look, he stalked out of the room, down the stairs and outside. 

 He made his way to the aid station, only having to jump behind a building once to avoid a mortar. This was his first time coming to the aid station in Haguenau, having had no reason prior to come. He was pleased it was in better shape than most of the other buildings and further back from the river and Nazis. 

 Soon as he stepped through, he was hit with the smell of sanitation, coffee, and dried blood. 

 "Where's the nurse?" He growled at a pair of medics who stared at him like he was the grim reaper come to take their souls. One pointed towards the back. Don stormed in that direction, boots pounding on the wood floor. 

 He arrived at what most likely had been someone's study or library prior to the war but had been converted to the aid station. His gaze zeroed in on her folding up some blankets while she chatted with a medic. He stalked towards her. She only turned her head to look up at him as he was within five feet of her. 

 "Don?" The sweet smile on her face immediately faded away as she took in the serious expression he wore. 

 "We need to talk." He stated, moving to stand beside her. 

 "Of course, let me…"

 "No. Now." He grabbed her upper arm and started to pull her from the room. The other medic started to say something but snapped his mouth shut at the icy glare Don sent him. 

 "What's going on?"

 He ignored her question, looking down at her once they were in the hallway. "Where can we speak in private?" 

 "Upstairs." 

 Once she seemed to sense his urgency, he allowed her to lead him up the stairs and into a room that seemed to be used by the medics to store their personal effects. Two cots were pushed against opposite walls, both empty thankfully. Soon as he shut the door behind them, he rounded on her. 

 "You need to hide."

 "Ex....excuse me?" She stuttered, sapphire eyes peering up at him, wide and unblinking.  

 "Captain Evans plans on leaving the day after tomorrow."

 "We heard. One of the lieutenants stopped by after the wounded were taken to inform us. Why does…"

 He cut her off. "My crew and I are being sent out. We leave tomorrow. I don't know how soon we'll be back. So, you need to hide until Captain Evans leaves."

 "I don't.… I don't understand, Don."

 "Fuck!" He moved closer to her, grabbing both of her upper arms, his hands wrapping completely around them. "Listen. I can't protect you if you are in some other goddamn country. You can't leave with the Captain, alright? You stay here. You stay low and you'll get left behind. When we come back, I'll take care of you."

 "But…. I mean, I'll be fine. The men are….um…. It’ll work out. I'm more worried about you and the others. You are going into a fight!"

 "Fuck them and fuck the fight!" He shouted, moving away before he shook her, trying to make her understand. How could she not see what he was trying to do? "I don't trust those bastards to keep their hands off you! And you shouldn't either! Who's going to look out for you? Huh? Who's going to make sure they don't lay a fucking finger on you?! Cause I can promise you, it won't fucking be them!"

 He stood in front of her, chest heaving from the anger rolling through him like a tsunami wave. Only now, after his words spewed out like vitriol did he witness the effect. The tears that welled in her eyes, how one of her hands covered her mouth, the other wrapped around her torso almost in a self-hug. 

 "Anna…" Resentment towards himself flooded through his veins. Slowly he tried to reach out to her, to place a hand on her shoulder with an apology dancing on the tip of his tongue, but froze when she flinched.

 And that hurt worse than being pierced with a bullet. 

 He made no further move towards her, afraid of her reaction. Frustrated at everything but mostly himself in the moment, he ran his hands through his hair. 

 Her gaze had dropped to the floorboards, hunched into herself. Finally after several seconds, she whispered. "What do you want from me, Don?"

 What did he want from her? Hell, if he was still trying to come to terms with that answer himself. In the moment, he chose to honestly answer. 

 "I want you safe."

 His equally soft reply made her head jerk up, eyes meeting his. "Why?"

 "You're a part of my crew...and I swore to make sure they survive this war. I can't do that if you're in another company."

 "Is that the only reason?"

 Did she know how loaded that question was? How this growing tension between the two of them grated on him? Not because he disliked it. No. Because he wanted her closer. But this was war, and no one was guaranteed tomorrow. So he answered with something that tasted like a half-truth. "The only one that matters right now."

 She sniffled, wiping away the moisture from her eyes with her dainty fingers. 

 As if approaching an injured animal, he carefully shifted closer to her. Seeing the tears in her eyes broke what resolve he meagerly held. He hated that he made her cry, made her flinch. It tore at his soul. Something his mind demanded he fix, for both of them.

 Hesitantly, he reached forward and clasped her hands in his. She inhaled sharply, but only tightened her grip on his hands. The air between them felt charged with something unnamed but powerful. The way their gazes locked, hands holding each other, as if they had been put under a spell neither wished to escape. 

 "I need you safe, darling…." He murmured, the words flowing out of him without his conscious approval. Only after did they hang in the air, waiting to stoke the fire between them or shatter everything like glass. 

 "Darling?" The corners of her lips turned up in a barely-there smile. 

 He huffed a short laugh. "That alright?"

 "Yes." She answered with a blush growing on her cheeks. 

 And damn if that sight didn't stir something within him. Following his instincts, he gently tugged her closer, pulling her into a warm embrace, beyond pleased when she practically melted against him. His arms went around her back while her arms wrapped around his waist. Her cheek laid against the middle of his chest and he wondered if she could hear it pounding within him. Not for the first time was he reminded how small and vulnerable she seemed, tucked against his body now. He knew and witnessed how strong she truly was though. Faced with blood and death and distraught, she still persevered. 

 She sighed after some time, neither attempting to end the embrace. "I'll try to hide but I don't know where I could. All the medics know I'm here. Arthur and the others will be expecting me to join them especially after losing…" Her voice trailed off. 

 He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "We'll figure it out. I promise." 

 "I trust you." They continued to stand there, finding solace in one another but also a silent understanding between them. Of affections that were too dangerous to say aloud but still lingered in the air. A few seconds later, her whisper disturbed the peace. "I'm so tired of this war."

 "Me too."

 A knock on the door broke their moment but when Anna tried to step away from Don, he only held her tighter, unwilling to give her up but also wanting to protect her. He watched the door open to reveal a medic, who although his face seemed calm, there was an undercurrent of tension in the way he clenched his jaw and the shifting of his eyes as he immediately took in the scene before him. 

 "Chérie? Everythin' alright? Spina said he 'eard yellin'."

 Only when she turned to face the medic did Don let her go. "Yes. I'm sorry, Gene. It's nothing.... just a misunderstanding."

 "Mmm." The medic glanced back down the hallway then stepped inside the room, closing the door behind him. "Someone wanna tell me what's goin' on?"

 Don immediately recognized the name Gene. She had referenced him multiple times when she had been over taking care of Norman. By the way she spoke about him, Don picked up that she trusted him and they were friendly. Perhaps he had an ally here after all. 

 "Are you able to hide her?" He asked bluntly, knowing his time was running short to figure out a plan. 

 Gene's eyebrows scrunched together. "What?"

 "Don, no... it’s fine," she answered at the same time, placing a hand on his arm, "I'll figure out something."

 "Nah, chérie." Gene looked back over to Don, expression reserved but determined. "What do ya mean?"

 Don quickly explained the situation, impressed by the medic with the thick accent and how he absorbed the information thrown at him without too many questions. 

 Gene nodded once at the end, gaze downward as he ran his tongue over his teeth. Finally, he looked up at the two. "I know somewhere. They got some extra room. Lemme talk to their Sergeant first."

 Anna's gaze bounced between the two men, clearly unable to believe what she was hearing. "We can't do this. We'll get…. I don't want to cause more problems or get people in trouble. What happens when your Captain finds out?"

 Gene shrugged. "Winters is a good man. He might not like it but he'll understand." He paused, tapping a finger on his crossed arms. "I'll go now. Anna, stay here, get ya things gathered. We'll bring ya over tonight."

 She stared at both of them again before Don could visibly see her acceptance when her shoulders sagged. With a roll of her eyes, she gave the medic a cheeky salute. "Yes, sir."

 "Fille effrontée." He grinned. 

 She blew him an air kiss that made him shake his head, a small grin on his lips. The two men nodded at each other once more before the medic slipped back out. 

 Once alone again, she turned back around, placing her hands on his chest, peering up at him earnestly. "Be safe, please...tell the others for me too."

 "I will." 

 This time he leaned down as she rose up on her toes to press a kiss to his jawline. His hands tightened on her waist, where they had landed. Instead of immediately pulling back after she fell back onto her flat feet, he lingered. Hovering over her, he cupped her cheek, guiding her head. She was completely pliant under his touch, allowing him to tilt her face until their noses almost touched. He was spellbound, staring down at her. Her gentle breaths sliding across his mouth tantalizingly. It was the soft adoration and trust in her sapphire eyes that pulled in his chest and stole the breath from his lungs. She was too good, too pure for someone like him. Yet he could not draw away from her, captured in her tender affections, left breathless by her kindness. Turning his face just slightly, he could feel the corner of her mouth against his, her warm breath hitting his cheek. 

 "I should go." He whispered, without moving away. 

 Her hands slid up to the nape of his neck, causing him to suppress a low groan as her chest pressed against his. "Don, please come back." Her words pierced his heart. 

 "I will, I promise." This time he brushed his lips over hers. It was just a moment, the faintest of touches but the spark it ignited in him felt like an inferno awakening. 

 Abruptly he pulled back, turned on his heels and walked out. If he stayed any longer, she would be in his arms, his mouth devouring hers, her back pressed against the nearest wall. He had half a mind to turn back and do that just now. But he kept walking. Why she held any affections for him left him boggled. She deserved better than him. He wanted her though. Christ above, he wanted her. It was becoming a truth he could not ignore. 

 And that barely-there kiss only proved it. 

 *****

 Anna followed behind Gene as they headed to a different building, supposedly where she would stay hidden. She worried all of this would blow up in their faces eventually, that the men would get in trouble because of her, that she would be sent away to a company she did not know. Would the army count this as desertion? Fears and concerns tormented her mind, but it was too late now. Her feet were already planted firmly on the path. Physically and metaphorically. 

 Gene had told her that she would stay with the paratrooper platoon until after Captains Evans and his company left. The Cajun medic had already started a rumor along with Spina, who seemed to be enjoying all this espionage a little too much, that she had been sent to assist a family living just outside of Haguenau where the wife was in labor with her first child. It would explain why she was only gone for a short time and as to why her sudden disappearance. Plus, Gene reasoned it sounded like something she would do. She could not blame him there. It would be. 

 So now, they walked in the late hours of the night, moonlight highlighting the ground beneath their feet. The ill-fitting ODs, the coat from a dead soldier and her medic satchel were the only things she owned. All of her other possessions and clothing had blown up when the medic truck was hit during the surprise attack. She desperately tried not to think about that fact. She was alive and with no injuries. Twenty-two men lost their lives that day. Her few belongings were minimal compared to that. 

 She still missed her book though. 

 Gene did not even knock when they reached the damaged house. Quietly, he opened the door and shifted so she could walk in first. The wooden floorboards creaked beneath her feet, making her freeze for a moment. Only after a word of encouragement from Gene did she continue. As she stepped in, she could hear the murmuring of voices suddenly fall silent. Knowing Gene was at her side and he trusted these men, she took a deep breath before taking another step forward. 

 She rounded the corner from the entryway and towards what must have been a common room before the war. There were three men, two sitting on beat-up looking couches and one standing. The moonlight shining through the window cast everything in deep shadows. Somehow it felt appropriate for all that these men had been through. How they were still waiting for the sun to shine on them again, to beat back the shadows and nightmares and remind them to hope and dream of the future without war hovering over them like a furie.

 It was as she met the gaze of the one standing, staring at her, that she could feel tears well up in her eyes. He looked so world-weary, as if he had not slept in years and all peace had abandoned him. His eyes once so bright with laughter and life were now dull. His once expressive face was now weathered and closed-off. Only his red hair looked the same. It broke her heart. 

 "Donnie…." She softly said. 

 The corners of his lips lifted up at the nickname she bestowed upon him so long ago. "Hi, Anna."

 Without warning or a care for his reaction, she flew across the room. She threw her arms around him, the top of her head just at his chin. A few tears spilled as he seemed to hesitate at her action, as if he had forgotten what a hug was, as if he no longer understood how to be comforted. Then slowly his arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer to his chest. 

 "I'm so sorry, Donnie." She mumbled against him, fighting a losing battle against the tears flooding her eyes. "Muck and Penkala…. they were the best of men. I'm so sorry. And for the others too." 

 He stiffened at the names of his deceased best friends. She could feel the shudder that ran through him, the soft sob he forced back. "Not…. not your fault." He finally whispered, a faint quiver in his voice. 

 She pulled back to meet his eyes, uncaring of the tear tracks staining her cheeks. Carefully she moved her hands to cup his face between them, forcing his gaze to stay on hers. "If you need to talk, I'll listen. Or just cry. Or hold your hand. I'll do it, without any questions."

 "Sure."

 "I'm serious."

 "I know. You sound like you've been hanging out with Doc Roe too much." He teased, forcing back the pain in his voice. A slight squeeze of her hand let her know he appreciated her words. 

 She giggled, sliding out of his embrace to glance at Gene, who had moved to sit next to another redhead on one of the couches. "He does start to rub off on you, can't decide if he's a good influence or a bad one."

 Gene scowled at her, making her giggle more. 

 "Who's the dame? Easy taking female paratroopers now?" The other redhead asked, his Philly accent unmistakable. 

 "Nah, this is Anna Cooper, a nurse. She's gonna stay with ya fellas for a couple days." Gene said casually. 

 The redhead's eyebrows were furrowed as his gaze darted from Gene to Anna and back. "Why?"

 "I just missed Donnie here so much." She smiled up at the man, who just gave her an awkward smile, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

 "Uh huh. So, what's the real fucking reason?" The third man asked, twirling a cigarette between his fingers. 

 "Joe, nothing you need to worry about right now." Malarkey answered. 

 Anna wondered if Gene expected the whole platoon to know of her existence there and why or only Donnie and himself. That was probably something she should have asked before their arrival but her mind was too caught up in its tornado of fears. 

 "How do you two know each other?" The other redhead asked, now eyeing her like she was a rare specimen. 

 Roe sighed, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his thighs. "She was in Albourne with us medics when we were training before the jump into Normandy."

 "Donnie here also took me on a date." Anna blurted out, a smile on her lips. 

 "What?" The one Malarkey had called 'Joe' stared with his jaw dropped. "A'ight, now I gotta hear this." 

 Malarkey rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he looked down at her. "Not sure I'd call that a date, Anna."

 "Mmm...it's a date when you kiss the girl after, right?"

 For a beat there was shocked silence before the two on the couches started laughing, Roe just shook his head and muttered something to himself. 

 "Holy shit, Anna…" Malarkey rubbed a hand over his face. If there had been more light, his face most likely would have matched the color of his hair. "I thought we agreed never to mention it ever again?"

 "It wasn't that bad, Donnie."

 "Yes, it was. That damn shovel almost broke my nose. You had to walk me to the aid station instead of me walking you home."

 "I mean.... when you say it like that." Anna teased. 

 "Shit, I really need to hear this now." 

 "Babe, no." Malarkey pointed his finger at the other redhead then moved it to the other man. "Joe, not a word."

 The one, Joe, shrugged, a smirk on his face. "How come I don't remember this?"

 "Cause you was in London chasin' skirts and gettin' in fights that weekend." Gene stated evenly. "It's late, I need to head back to the aid station. Malarkey, where is Anna stayin'?"

 "Right. This way." Malarkey led the way with Anna and Gene following up a set of stairs and down the hallway to a bedroom. "Supposed to be for officers I guess but since we don't have any…. the door locks too."

 "Thank you, Donnie." She smiled up at the man, someone she had thought she would never see again. It was funny how fate had brought Easy Company back into her life. Moving further into the room, she was pleased to find a single bed pressed against the wall and a desk across from it. Otherwise the room was completely bare of any other furniture or decorations. 

 "Ya ok here, chérie?" Gene leaned against the desk, arms crossed over his chest. 

 "Yes."

 "Good, good. One question then." Gene paused, an intensity in his eyes that startled her. "What's ya relationship with that Sergeant?"

 In the middle of slipping the coat off, she froze, having not been expecting that question. Her mind raced with trying to find an adequate answer. Although it felt futile. How could she describe her relationship with Sergeant Don Collier? Not that there was a relationship, per se, even if memories of their last encounter sprung forth in her mind's eye. Even though they had not known each other long, he was someone she found herself trusting wholeheartedly and feeling safe around. The loyalty of his men inspired her. The brutality of war was evident in the way he carried himself, the shifting of his eyes and the perpetual frown on his face when he was thinking. Yet he still cared. He still went out of his way to take care of a nurse who meant nothing to him. How when he was close by, her heart beat a little faster and butterflies danced in her belly. On more than one occasion, as she laid down waiting for sleep to find her, she wondered what his kiss would feel like. 

 Finally, she settled with a glossed over version, hoping Gene would be satisfied with just that. "Um....we don't…. he’s just looking out for me. Him and his crew kind of took me in."

 "Mmm….and when I walked into him holdin' ya in his arms, lookin' ready to kiss ya?"

 "It's....it's not like that."

 Malarkey spoke up, leaning against the doorframe. "Who’s this Sergeant?"

 "In charge of the armored division." Gene answered, dark eyes staring at her as if to sift the secrets out of her words and wide eyes. 

 "Don's just looking out for me…. him and his crew, they've, well, they've protected me several times already from…. others." She finished lamely, wrapping her arms around herself, trying to push the memories away. 

 He must have sensed her discomfort. "Alright, chérie, just be careful."

 She nodded. She appreciated his concern but felt it was misplaced. 

 "Don, huh? Do you call him Donnie too?" Malarkey broke the following silence. 

 She rolled her eyes but smiled at the slight change of subject. "No, only you get that nickname."

 "Lucky me. So, is he a redhead too? You have a thing for the name Don?"

 She covered her face as her cheeks warmed. 

 "Ya two can discuss this tomorrow." Gene pushed off the desk. "I'll come get ya the day after tomorrow. If ya need anythin', send someone to get me."

 She dropped the coat at the end of the bed and moved to give him a quick hug. "Thank you, Cajun angel."

 He rolled his eyes while Malarkey snickered in the back but returned the embrace.

 Next, she walked over to Malarkey and gave him another quick hug. "Thank you too. For doing this for me."

 "I'm in the room across, if you need me. Bathroom is two doors down."

 The two paratroopers then left, closing the door behind them. Taking a deep breath, she surveyed around her as she stood there in the small room under the moonlight shining through the window. The future was always unknown but especially now, she felt tossed about on the waves of uncertainties. She hoped this plan was not completely foolhardy, but she would admit, she felt safer with Gene and Malarkey looking out for her while Don and Boyd were gone. She would never admit how she had cried while hiding away from everyone when she realized she was no longer alone, that she would not be sent with Captain Evans and his company. There were good men looking out for her. 

 She crawled into bed, slipping under the scratchy covers. All the while, her mind sent a fervent prayer that the crew of Fury would be safe. That they would return to her uninjured. That Don would be okay.

[ljblueteak]

Throwing my hat into the “Why did Paul and Jane break up?” ring. There have been fantastic posts on this already, but looking at the McCartney bios by Sounes and Salewicz back-to-back has given me a slightly different perspective (this could all need to be tossed out if anything else about them comes to light/there’s other material I’m not aware of, which is more than possible, but here’s what I’ve got for now!) 

The short version: I think they split up because of a lack of long-term compatibility that they both recognized as they got older. They also grew to prefer different lifestyles and possibly also had different ideas about whether/when to start trying to have children. By the time they split up, Paul had already realized, according to the joint interview with Jane described in Hunter Davies’ 1968 bio, that it was “silly” of him to have expected Jane to do what the other Beatles’ partners had done and give up her career after marriage (Paul describing his expectation as having been “silly” is in Davies 308-309. The observation that all the other women who had “married in to the band” had given up their careers because that was “expected by men of [the Beatles’ background]” is in Sounes 189). Jane having a career she wanted to continue after marriage seems to have been resolved as a possible impediment before the split. The Salewicz bio suggests that what *may* have been a factor was the question of children, with Jane not wanting them to interfere with her career. However, it’s not clear from that bio when this question came up for them--whether it was closer to the time of the split or whether it had been discussed and resolved prior to their engagement. I think these are the main reasons they split. I don’t think his many, many, many affairs helped at all, but I think the above reasons are the main ones.

Jane and Paul got together when they were quite young (Jane was 17 and Paul was 20) and their interests diverged in a few ways that really mattered as they got older. As the bios have suggested, Jane wasn’t really into rock ‘n’roll and really wasn’t into the drug scene. Paul was into both (understatement!). This likely contributed to the tension that people like Marianne Faithful witnessed between them. In addition to that, they both seemed to realize that they didn’t ultimately “click.” For bio excerpts and more, please see below!

In terms of not actually “clicking,”which would be enough reason to end a relationship on its own, imo, here’s what Jane Asher had to say (sourced from the amazing @thecoleopterawithana via @amoralto: 

“No, it wasn’t love at first sight on my side. It was several months before I felt at all certain. And of course, I was young. Only seventeen. Inevitably, one changes. After all, Paul himself was only twenty when we met.

“I knew in my bones that the break must inevitably come a long time before it actually happened. Although we had this emotional thing for each other, we found it difficult to be really happy together....”

Jane Asher, interview w/ Godfrey Winn for The Australian Women’s Weekly: Girl with a broken love affair. (April 23rd, 1969)

And here’s Paul in Many Years From Now: 

“During that period with Jane Asher I learned a lot and she introduced me to a lot of things, but I think inevitably when I moved to Cavendish Avenue, I realized that she and I weren’t really going to be the thing we’d always thought we might be. Once or twice we talked about getting married, and plans were afoot but I don’t know, something really made me nervous about the whole thing. It just never settled with me, and as that’s very important for me, things must feel comfortable for me, I think it’s a pretty good gauge if you’re lucky enough. You’re not always lucky enough, but if you can feel comfortable then there’s something very special about that feeling. I hadn’t quite managed to be able to get it with Jane....She was a very intelligent and interesting person, but I just never clicked. One of those indefinable things about love is some people you click with and some people who you should maybe click with, you don’t” (264, 452-453). 

In addition to their own words, there are differing takes from observers about Paul and Jane’s compatibility and reasons for the split. Artists like Jann Howarth, who along with Peter Blake made the Sergeant Pepper art and had known the Beatles for “four years” before that observes in the Sounes bio that:

“I thought [Paul and Jane] were adorable together. She was wonderful. She was a very calm person and, in the middle of all this, you felt she was a wonderful balance for him, and you felt she was his equal for sure. It didn’t feel to me as though Paul was the big deal and she was trembling along behind, whereas you felt that a bit with Pattie Boyd and some of the other gals. I mean Cynthia was left standing still, basically, by John. Whereas you felt Jane was an absolute equal to Paul and had a very supple mind” (131). 

Howarth sees them as “adorable” together and says that Jane’s “Paul’s equal for sure” and doesn’t suggest that this is a source of tension in any way.

Marianne Faithful, who frequently visited Cavendish with Mick Jagger, seems to imply in her autobiography that a major cause for the tensions she observed between Paul and Jane were related to Jane’s career aspirations and that Paul had wanted “an old-fashioned Liverpool wife,” which is what he got with Linda. However, I think it’s worth noting that while there had been tensions about Jane’s career, as detailed in the Davies bio (though Paul had also been really excited about and supportive of Jane’s career), Paul had already recognized that he had been being “silly.” Of course, there may have been continuing tensions related to it, but it sounds like Paul realized he’d been wrong on the whole. In addition to that, Marianne and Mick were part of the rock ‘n’ roll drug crowd Jane disapproved of, so these tensions between Paul and Jane that Faithfull observed may very well also have been related to Jane not being thrilled about more drug-using rock ‘n’rollers taking over her house.  

Here’s the bit from Marianne Faithfull’s book via The Guardian:

Visits to Paul and Jane Asher weren't quite as relaxed. They were a bit uptight, and there were constant little frictions, but that's what happens when couples start to come apart. In any case, I was in a very different position from the one that Jane found herself in. I'd done what Paul wanted Jane to do, and given up my career. I wasn't going on tour with the Old Vic; I wasn't taking any more movie roles and very few parts in plays. Jane was a serious actress and wanted to continue her career, but Paul had other ideas. That's why Linda was so perfect for Paul; she was just what he wanted, an old-fashioned Liverpool wife who was devoted to her husband. Whatever we thought of Linda - and she didn't make that great an impression on me - I think it was a credit to Paul that he didn't marry a model. Because that's what all the others have ended up doing, they've married these models. And they have children who also become models.

The Guardian, 6 October 2007.

In his bio of Paul (which doesn’t directly address Faithfull’s comments), Sounes doesn’t suggest that the perception that Paul would be happy to be with someone who was prepared to let their own career take the backseat, at least for a time, is wrong (I do think it’s important to mention that in addition to her Wings career and solo/with Paul songwriting work, Linda also did work that didn’t involve Paul’s career at all down the line, like working on her cookbooks and frozen food line). But Sounes does say that it was much more than that that drew Paul and Linda together:

“Anything Paul wanted to do seemed possible with Linda, or Lin as he called her affectionately. She had bucket-loads of American confidence, which he liked. Both were relaxed and open about sex...Lin dug rock ‘n’ roll in a way Jane never had and unlike Jane, this American girl wasn’t uptight about drugs. Although a modern, liberated woman in some ways, Lin wasn’t a committed careerist. She was already tired of scratching a living as a rock ‘n’roll photographer, more than ready to settle down with a man who could look after her and Heather” Fab (215). 

Paul was also ready to start a family. Indeed, John Lennon suggested that part of what drew Paul to Linda was the “ready-made family.” In the same interview where John pointed out that Linda could provide a “ready-made family,” he claimed that Jane was not ready for children: “If Jane was to have a career, then that’s not a cozy family, is it?” Chris Salewicz’s Paul bio also addresses this, saying:

“A source of considerable contention between Paul and Jane--perhaps the cause of those adverse remarks about the theatre to Joe Orton--was her insistence that having children would interfere with her acting career. Yet, now that Paul had everything he could possibly ever want, all that remained to fulfill his life was the presence of children, something he had always desired far more than the other Beatles” (199).

While we (or at least I!) don’t know whether Paul and Jane had discussed the issue of children before they got engaged, disagreements over whether or when to have kids contribute to a fair number of breakups to this day--and they had plenty of good reasons, from just not “clicking” in the right way to disagreements over drugs, to break up anyway. 

[alittleimagine]

just a favor- prologue

derek hale x reader

derek would love if his family would stop hounding him about dating again after he’s unceremoniously dumped. he doesn’t mean to lie to his sister about a girlfriend that doesn’t exist, but it’s too late to take it back now. 

“Have you considered just telling Laura the truth?”

“He can’t tell them the truth now.”

“Why not?”

“Because then they’ll freak out about him being a big sad-sack who hasn’t gotten over being dumped half a year ago.”

“Hey!” Derek cut in. He had been content to let Scott and Stiles argue back and forth for the last few minutes, but he drew the line at being called a sad-sack. 

Stiles didn’t even look sorry. “I’m not saying you are a sad-sack, I’m saying that’s what they think.” He said.

“That doesn’t help as much as you think it does.”

Scott snorted to himself. 

Stiles was not deterred. “What we need to do is just find you a date. Erica would probably be down to go.” He said. 

Derek sighed, deep and dramatic. “Laura knows Erica is dating Boyd. Just like she knows Allison is with Scott, and Lydia is with Jordan. Malia is obviously bringing Kira to Thanksgiving. She knows all of you.” He’d already given this a great deal of thought. 

And he was screwed.

“Melissa?” 

“Hey!” Scott shot a betrayed look at Stiles. “Leave my mom out of this.” 

Stiles flailed, his arms flapping in Derek’s general direction. “I am just trying to help the sad-sack!”

“Hey!” 

Derek grabbed the nearest pillow from Stiles’s bed and chucked it at him. Years of bench-warming on the lacrosse team had not served Stiles well and the pillow hit him full force in the face, sending him tumbling backward into his desk. 

When he’d regained his balance he threw the pillow back at Derek who caught it without a problem and set it back on the bed looking not a little smug. 

Stiles didn’t seem to notice or care for Derek’s obvious physical superiority because he was snapping his fingers rapidly. Both Derek and Scott recognized what the gesture meant- there was a thought trying to make its way out.

“I’ve got it!” He said. There was a mildly manic look in his eyes. “I know the perfect person for the job. She loves these kind of shenanigans. I bet she’s a good liar, she looks like she’d be a good liar. But I don’t know if she’ll have the days off. That could be a problem.”

With every second Stiles kept arguing with himself rather than name the person he was talking about Derek could feel his tolerance slipping. He gave him an annoyed impatient look, but Stiles was too far gone in his own head to even notice. 

Scott, who had been trying so hard not to look too amused, bit his lip to keep from laughing at Derek’s frustration. 

“Stiles,” Derek said in a warning tone, “if you don’t just spit it out-”

“Y/N!” 

“Yes?”

The three of them jumped at the voice from the door. 

And there was Y/N herself. She looked like she’d been there a while, enough time at least to make herself comfortable against the door frame, a men’s dress shirt on a hanger looped casually in her hands. If she wasn’t amused before she’d scared them, she certainly was now. 

“What are you doing in my house?” Stiles squawked. “How did you get in?”

She rolled her eyes and stood up straight to dig in through the leather backpack slung on her shoulder, finding and jingling a key ring at them. “I had to pick up a shirt for your dad’s hot date tonight.” The waggle of her eyebrows was 100% intentional and successful if Stiles’s quiet “yuck” was anything to go by. “He gave me a key months ago.” 

“Of course he did.” Stiles didn’t even sound surprised. 

When Y/N had moved to Beacon Hills a little under a year ago she’d known no one in town and had described the move as an impulse brought on by a typo on a job search site. She’d been looking for jobs in Sacramento, but the zip code she’d entered was just one digit off. Instead, she’d been shown jobs in Beacon Hills, but most especially had been a listing for a Receptionist/Admin Assistant at the Sheriff’s department. 

Sheriff Stilinski had interviewed her and Kira had helped her find an apartment upon the Sheriff’s recommendation, but when she moved to town they were the only two people she knew. 

It hadn’t taken her long to settle in. Through work she’d become fast friends with Jordan and Boyd, which led to meeting Lydia and Erica. Through Kira she’d met Malia and then Allison and rounding back to Lydia.

Which was when Derek had met her. 

He’d been dating Jennifer at the time and there’d been a part of him that was concerned when he spotted the girls plus one Y/N having dinner at the local diner and he realized they had never in the past invited Jennifer to do so. In retrospect it was obvious they saw something in Jennifer that he hadn’t and they’d been right to exclude her. 

Jennifer hadn’t been too fond of her.

Derek had never spent much time with Y/N though, and it was always in the company of their other friends, but he considered her a friend- or friend adjacent. He enjoyed the way she messed with Stiles most of all. 

“It’s not my fault I’m your dad’s favorite person.” Y/N said, a teasing smile on her face. It was no secret that torturing Stiles was one of her top favorite things to do. 

But, however much teasing she had planned was not going to stop Stiles. He had a determined look in his eyes that usually spelled trouble for Derek and Scott. The look Scott sent Derek told him he’d had the same thought.

“You should date Derek.” Stiles said without preamble. 

Derek couldn’t recall ever having seen Y/N look so surprised. She turned away from Stiles to look at him and he could feel his ears start to turn pink. He was going to kill Stiles.

Her eyebrows were still high on her forehead when the look became less shock and more amusement.  

“I think if I’m going to go out with Derek he’s going to have to ask me himself.” She said like they were discussing the weather and not Stiles pimping him out. Or pimping her out. Derek wasn’t sure which.

“It’s not like that.” Derek rushed out. 

“So you don’t want to go out with me?”

Derek was going to kill Stiles. 

“Just for Thanksgiving.” Stiles said.

Y/N had a wicked gleam in her eye. It made Derek shift in his seat. 

“You want me to go out with Derek just on Thanksgiving,” she said, slow and deliberate, “and it’s ‘not like that’.” She made air quotes with her fingers. “So you want me to fake date you for, I assume, family reasons?”

It should have worried Derek that she’d put it together as quickly and gleefully as she had. The burning pink of his ears and neck should have worried him. Every part of this half-baked plan should have sent him spiraling into a panic. 

He gulped and nodded. “Yes. Please.”

The seconds before she spoke again seemed to stretch and stretch. She was watching him intently. 

At last she shrugged. “I can do that.” She said. “I have to get back to the station, but I’ll text you so we can plan. We have a lot to do in the next week.”

And just like that she flashed them a peace sign and left the doorway, calling a bye behind her. 

“I can’t believe that just worked.” Scott said.

Derek had to clear his throat before he spoke. “What did she mean by plan?”

[thinking-about-sw33ts]

ιf тнєяє αяє αиу ѕρєℓℓιиg мιѕтαкєѕ/єяяσяѕ, ρℓєαѕє тєℓℓ ѕσ тнαт ι ¢αи fιχ тнєм! тнιѕ мιgнт иσт вє ℓαѕт уσυ gυуѕ ωιℓℓ ѕєє α 'ѕєιтαяσυ χ тяσιѕ' fαиfι¢, ѕιи¢є ι яєαℓℓу ∂σ ℓιкє тнιѕ ραιяιиg!! ι яєαℓℓу тнιик тнєу'яє ¢υтє/α∂σяαвℓє тσgєтнєя! αℓѕσ тнιѕ ωαѕ яєqυєѕтє∂/ѕυggєѕтє∂ ву @ambrosiaocto! нσρєfυℓℓу тнιѕ ωαѕ υρ тσ тнєιя ℓιкιиg!! αи∂ тнαик уσυ ѕσ мυ¢н fσя тнє яєqυєѕт/ѕυggєѕтισи, αиσи!~★

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

⭐️Love⭐️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anime:

🗝Nanbaka🗝

Main Ship:

🛠Trois🛠 X 💦Seitarou💦

Supporting Ship(s):

🎬Tsukumo🎬 X 💢Honey💢

Type:

🌸Fluff🌸

AU(Alternative Universe):

🗝Normal🗝

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

💦Seitarou’s P.O.V💦(Point of View):

“Seitarou, may I request to visit Honey at building 3?” Tsukumo asked, peeking through the bars. “Yeah sure! Let me just sign the papers for that.” I answered, signing the papers before handing it to the supervisor.

Who was about to go to the warden’s office for a report. After a while my supervisor came back, handing me a blue folder that was supposed to be delivered to building 3, as well as permission to go there.

Soon enough I got the truck ready for inmate 99 before heading there myself. As I arrived at building 3, I went towards the truck that held the inmate. I carefully helped the ninja down from the truck.

He immediately runned towards something, making me curious for what had triggered such an act. “Inmate 99 Please be careful! This place is huge so you can get lost!” I cried out, turning around, hoping he wouldn’t be too far away.

As I turned around my rose coloured eyes met with another. I quickly realized that those beautiful orbs belonged to Trois. I felt my cheeks warming up, his gentle smile, his beautiful eyes that went well with his long lashes, his attractive personality drew me in.

I got away from my daydreaming before trying to find the inmate, before seeing that he was walking, and talking with a certain purple head, with arrows protruding from his hair.

“So what brings you here, Seitarou?~” Trois purred out, backing me against a wall, towering over me, showing clear signs that he was teasing me. As I was about to answer he puts a hand beside my head, further trapping against the wall.

With the little amount of courage I had, I decided to stand up for myself. “Inmate 3 I don't appreciate this behavior, so please behave yourself!”I demanded, tears pricking my eyes, holding the blue folder rather roughly.

“Hm~ All right. I guess I have to stop~” Trois answered, although thinking about it for a bit. As I stood against the wall, thinking he would let me go. I felt his gaze on me, as I kept my head low, thinking I would turn to goo if I were to look at him.

I felt my cheeks heat up once more, thinking I probably look like a tomato. “Are you alright over there?~” He suddenly asked, making me accidentally look up, meeting his attractive gaze.

“Yeah.” I answered, failing to keep my eyes away from his. I clenched the blue folder, hoping the embarrassment would soon end. Although hoping it wouldn't at the same time. “Are you sure about that? You’re breaking your folder.”

Trois recalled, letting down the hand from the wall, and pointing at the wrinkled blue folder. As I realized this was the perfect chance to escape, I immediately darted to supervisor Kiji Mitsuba’s office. Tears pricking my eyes, while my whole face was flushed red.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✨Timeskip✨

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

💦Seitarou’s P.O.V💦(Point of View):

As I finished delivering the folder, I quickly went to pick up inmate 99, only to see him taking a nap on inmate 82.

After having a hard time getting the shinobi off the certain inmate, along with Ahato’s help, I finally got him loaded onto the truck. After making sure everything wasn’t forgotten, we headed back to our own building, building 13.

Soon enough we arrived back at our building. After escorting the pink-haired shinobi back to his cell, I went to check if the occupants of cell 13 were still there.

When I realized that they weren’t, I started to panic thinking that they escaped once again. As I was about to tell the supervisor, as well as check the cameras, a rather big hand rested itself on my shoulder. Making me startled.

“Don’t worry Seitarou! I just escorted the inmates to the game room!” Shouted Yamato making me almost deaf. Scurrying away from him, and standing across from said japanese-man, I nod feeling relieved.

If the warden finds out about the escapes, she would have to cut my pay! After Yamato explained that he would go on break, I decided to watch over the inmates.

Arriving at the game room I was met with Ahato, Hitoshi, as well as the daisen brothers. As I talked with them a bit, they casually explained that the supervisors would be in a meeting, and that they would take a while, leaving us to watch over the inmates. I thought back to what happened earlier, making my cheeks heat up once more.

“Seitarou-chan why is it that you are blushing so heavily? Have you decided to try out makeup?!” Ahato fan-boyd, as well as asked a few questions.

“No it’s just I think I might like someone, but they always tease me, and joke around with me, so I don’t think they like me back.” I explained, getting dejected over the thought, tears pricking my eyes.

“Is it Trois?” Hitoshi piped in, handing me a box of tissues, while rubbing my back comfortingly. I raised my head up, clearly surprised that they got it right. “How did you know?!” I screamed out, feeling a little embarrassed that they figured it out quickly.

“Dude, it’s kinda obvious.” Kokoriki answered, while Rokuriki and Youriki nodded in the back of him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✨Timeskip✨

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

💦Seitarou’s P.O.V💦(Point of View):

After a few weeks have passed, as well as Hitoshi, Ahato, and the Daisen brothers encouraging me to tell Trois how I have felt, I finally decided to go for it!

I soon arrived at building 3, about to deliver another folder for the meeting they were about to have. As I left Kiji Mitsuba’s office, I managed to see Trois working with their fanclub.

I went with my initial plan. Trying to find all the courage I had before. After I made sure he wasn’t busy, I walked up to him, trying to calm myself down.

Tugging on his sleeve, I quickly got his attention. “Can we talk privately?” I ask, looking down, trying not to show my red face. Afraid that he might tease me once again.

Trois nods at Honey, before following me to a quiet place. “So what exactly did you need me for?” He asked back, his deep rose coloured eyes showing nothing but confusion. As well as curiosity. “Um... sorry, nevermind.” I responded, realizing that I couldn’t tell him.

“Hm~ alright then.” Trois answered, a smirk plastered onto his face. As he was about to walk away from me, I managed to grab his wrist.

“Wait no! I love you!” I revealed, looking down, blushing very heavily. He turns around, facing me, before lifting my chin with his index finger. Making me look up at him.

As our eyes met with each other, he cups my cheek with said hand, before giving me a soft kiss on my cheek. “Trois, are you done yet? The fanclub’s waiting, you know!” Honey yelled out, fixing his tie.

Trying to find the certain mint haired frenchie. “Coming right there, Honey-kun!” Trois shouted back. As he was about to leave, he winked at me, making me blush more.

I stood there, clearly shocked, before registering everything. Stumbling back in surprise. ‘I can’t believe I did it!’ I thought to myself, touching the place where he had kissed me.

I covered my whole entire face with my hands, slowly getting embarrassed. The more I realized what he did. “So Seitarou-chan, have you confessed yet?” Ahato piped in, surprising me. Not realizing that he was right there.

“Did you see all of that?!” I yelled to him, getting more embarrassed that he saw me witnessing that. “You have something behind you.” Ahato commented, getting the thing from my back, and giving it to me before leaving. I quickly knew that it was a note, making me curious about who had given it to me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wanna take a walk in building 4’s courtyard? This would be our first date.”

- Trois

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hummed to myself, satisfied that I already told him how I felt, and that he had already gotten our so-called date ready. ‘I have to sign that paper so that we can go there.

Maybe Hitoshi could help me convince building 4 supervisor, Kenshiro Yozakura.’ I thought to myself. I gently smile to myself, really happy that Trois returned my feelings. I jumped up in victory while I raised a fist in the air.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✨Bonus✨

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🛠Trois’s P.O.V🛠(Point of View):

I pouted to myself, clearly dissatisfied. ‘Seitarou said he would hang out with me, but all he’s doing is hanging around with those ladies that visit him!’ I thought to myself, sighing heavily.

After he was done, he sat with me acting like nothing happened. “Would you like some cookies? Hitoshi made them.” Seitarou explained, eating one. I took the cookie from his mouth, before placing it back down on the plate.

I laid him down on the green couch, towering over him. “Imate 3, we can’t do such acts here!” objected, the certain blue head. He looks away trying to hide the growing blush.

”Make it up to me, Seitarou~” I purred out, raising his hands up to his head. Our fun was quickly cut short, due to Hajime entering the guard room making me stop what I was doing.

“Hey Seitarou, you have a few papers to sign. Hey what are you punks doing?!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[ais-n]

hi!!! firstly i just want to say i LOVE ICOS with my whole being. i read it for the first time in high school abt 5 years ago and read it again over quarantine last summer and it drew me in and wrapped me up wholly, i couldn’t put it down. i love the story and characters so much.

i also love writing very much and have always written small stories, fan fiction etc., the past couple weeks i’ve felt inspired to write fiction of my own, a novel of sorts with my own original plot and characters, and i wanted to ask you for some advice/ words of wisdom.

how did you plan out the characters you wrote? or did you more just let them write themselves? and did you plan out chapter by chapter how the plot would unfold before writing, or again let it happen as you wrote it? i’ve found it easier for me personally to let things happen as i write, and that the characters do things and say things i never planned for, was wondering if you felt the same or if you were more organized lol.

also what platform did you use to write on?

sorry for the long post, i hope you’re doing well.

Aww thank you, that's so sweet! I'm glad you like it :)

Side note, before I forget to mention - I just made a subreddit for my writing/stuff which will include ICoS things... I'll be adding more info on there this weekend hopefully, and I'm sure I'll do another post over here too but the link if you want it is https://www.reddit.com/r/aisylum/ It may be a place to find some other stuff in the future if you think of anything. I was thinking of doing an AMA or Q&A type thing over there too. Obviously, always feel free to ask here too <3 I love either place. Just wanted to mention while I'm thinking of it :)

I'm so happy you've been inspired to write - good luck and great job! I think that sounds absolutely awesome and I bet your story will be fantastic :)

We kind of did a bit of a hybrid.... I really wish I had the original bulletpoint list for what the book was originally going to be, but "Sonny" and I had opposite ways of looking at things. "He" would delete things as we went, and I would squirrel it all away until later lol So "he" deleted a bunch of bulletpoints/early info as we went because neither of us actually expected anything to come of any of it, so I also wasn't super anal about keeping track of things way early on. I might still have some documents buried somewhere with info but offhand I don't know where.

Anyway so I kind of am more like you in the way you write, but I will sometimes make the effort to try to plan a bit, especially if there's a cowriter. For ICoS for example, we had a rough outline planned of what was going to be the story, we started writing, we let the characters/plot/etc go where it needed to go, that meant things we hadn't planned from the start came in. The original story was basically mostly Evenfall, then skip Afterimage and Interludes for the most part but not entirely, and then we didn't really have a hugely detailed end initially from what I recall but we knew generally what was going to happen, so some of the stuff from later Fade would probably have been in the bullets. But when we got to the end of Evenfall, whatever was our next bulletpoint just did not feel right; we knew all the other stuff that starts Afterimage would happen instead.

For my long ongoing LGBTQ+ fantasy series I'm working on, the first book is finished but I'm editing it to change/add some significant stuff. I have a whole bunch of info on that which I've compiled over the years, so to an extent I have a general idea of plot things that will go down in the rewrite and also in the future into the other books, but a lot of details and even bigger points are left untouched. I prefer to let the characters/story/world/plot go where it wants to go, and I just have general points that I know make sense or have to happen eventually, and I look for how to fit them in as organically as possible to the way the story is going. If that makes sense. I will occasionally try to really work out exact storyline bullets but I get so bored so quickly that I never finish.

Because I like world-building and character development, I actually find it more fun and more useful for my organizational skills (any that exist, anyway, lol) to be aimed more toward that. Rather than focusing on the story and what the plot will be and what character will say what in which chapter, I prefer to dig into the past of the characters, dig into the world, the magic system or whatever is relevant, and have that info all squirreled away somewhere if needed. That way, as I'm going forward with writing the characters/story more organically, if things are going around what I initially thought the plot would be, this gives me something to then pull from for inspiration on how to incorporate this new plot/etc into the world more seamlessly, and make it feel more at home. And if you have all that info on characters, it also makes it easier to throw in things that flesh the character out more, and that can all lead toward character development in the future.

Boyd, for example - when we first had the valentine thing come up, it was just going to be a thing that happened that showed their miscommunication and how fucked the Agency was. But then it didn't make sense to me for it to just be a thing mentioned once and never again. So then that added to Boyd's story; now he was a valentine, so if it made sense or it was relevant, that was a thing that could or should come up. As the story progressed and the world grew, and with that the Agency and other factors were more fleshed out, it became more and more relevant. Then, by the time Fade came around, it was fully integrated into Boyd's story because by that point it would be weirder if it weren't - and because it made total sense in the characters' perspectives and the different organizations' perspectives and the story as a whole for the things to happen the way they did. But all of that, of course, then informs Boyd's mental health, physical health, and overall stability. Which then affects how he interacts with the world and other characters, which then affects the plot to an extent because of the choices he would make that may be different now, in the context of these life experiences, compared to prior to those life experiences. If the valentine thing never happened in Evenfall, a lot of Fade would be different. When we had that coming up in Evenfall, we didn't know another book was coming at all, let alone 3, let alone that it would end up having such a significant impact on the story and character development. But that's just kind of an example of building on things as you go, which is what I tend to do, personally.

As for the program - in the beginning we just used Word I think, and talked on AIM or something. It's been so long I don't totally remember. But for most of it we used Google Docs because that made it easy to share and write/edit at the same time.

Also, haha never be sorry for long posts - as you can see, I will almost always go longer ^_~

Hope you're doing well too! Thanks for your interest :)

[feeling--pink]

Hello and welcome to I redid my age up designs because I wanted to and so I did!!!!!!!!!! :D

uhhhhhhhhh explanations under the cut as per usual!!! :D

~

Officially speaking: shoot I figured out what I forgot

Okay so whenever I’m drawing I always forget SOMETHING right? That’s just a thing people deal with??

Anyways I forgot the FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS (except for Huey)

It’s very important that they all have friendship bracelets but I drew this over such a long period of time that I completely forgot to give it to people where it would be visible (i.e. Dewey, Boyd, kinda Lena)

It was almost important enough for me to go back but oh my gosh these pictures literally took an hour and I'm not doing that again very sorry

just: they’re there!!!!!! I promise!!!! Its just.... invisible.....

skdhjfgk okay sorry onto the actual thing

In order of left to right also known as height order!

Huey

I didn't change much from my first time doing this! 

Basically I gave him a dress shirt and a sweater vest :D

The key difference this time is that last time I made the undershirt red and the sweater vest burgundy! 

This time I made the undershirt pink!!!!!!!!!!!!! :D

Y’all that pink Huey trend from a little while ago was my life force

I hecking love the color pink so much

Anyways!! Moving on: he’s the shortest lol

As I have said before “Older Sibling Culture is being shorter than your younger siblings (I would know)”

But!!! I do love the concept fo Tall and Stronk Huey so he is actually very strong!!!

Instead he’s Short and Stronk!!!!! 

Webby and Boyd are the only one’s physically stronger than him but that’s because of spy training and literally being a robot (respectively)

But yes!!! Huey in a sweater vest and also very strong are important concepts so I did that here!!!!! 

(hmmn.... sweater vest,, nerd,,, weirdly strong,,,,,,, oh no I turned Huey into Chidi Anagonye klsdfjhgkakjahs)

Webby

y’all I messed up so much on this one

literally so many times

since you’re reading this I'll let you in on a secret

that may not be that secret ksdjfhlkds 

Anyways if you look closely at Webby you’ll probably see some weirdly placed lines

specifically around her face, shirt, hand, etc. 

basically I messed up enough that I thinned the paper significantly from erasing (multiple, separate times)

so I had so go in and paste another layer of paper over the thinned layer kjjdkahfgs

But enough about me messing up!! what’s with this outfit?

This one’s mostly about Vibes

I wanted to give off a femme lesbian vibe but still keep that formality we see in Webby’s regular outfit!

Hopefully I achieved that!!! 

This is one of the outfits I resigned completely from last time btw

The old one was fine but looks kinda weird to me now so this!!!

Oh yeah and I love long hair Webby a lot!!! So I included that!!!!

Louie

Louie is probably the one I changed the most about that still resembles the original design

Both times I gave him a button up for an undershirt

this is ‘cause I see y’all giving him suit jackets for when he’s an adult and he needs a middle stage before that

skdfjs- a middle evolution if you will jkadfhgkjhsfdka

But instead of a slip on hoodie over that I went with a zip up jacket because that’s just more practical y’know?

Also cheek tufts!!!!! 

I had them last time too but I love seeing adult louie with full cheek tufts so middle evolution effect comes into play again!!!

He and Webby are pretty much the same height right now btw

If you want to get technical about it Louie’s about a millimeter taller though!

I think that’s all I have for him though!

Gosalyn

Okay so I barely changed anything from last time for Gosalyn

Mr reasoning behind her outfit is mostly that I wanted a flannel gay and Gos was the obvious choice for that

and I liked that decision so I kept with it!!!

Main differences this time include: hair and shoes

So for the original hair I wanted to give her the “bisexual haircut” and I do like Gos with short hair so I kept that!

But I was having a hard time figuring out how to draw her regular bang situation so I went with a totally different style instead!

But I have sense learned how to draw her hair from the show so I incorporated that instead! 

In the original I also had her wearing shoes! I changed that this time because I forgot to give her shoes until it was too late! jksdafhg

Yeah this happens often kdsjhvfkajl (mostly with Lena)

Lena

Oh boy where to begin! 

In the original my one and only goal was to make Lena look like as much of a Lesbian as possible

And I achieved that much!!!!!! 

But in doing so I neglected to make it look like Lena

I mean well it looked like her but it didn’t give off her complete vibe y’know?

So instead of a Hawaiian shirt gay I made her a leather jacket gay!!! Much more Lena in my opinion! :D

I based her hair off of my interpretation of her Phantom and the Sorceress hair! (I know it looks nothing like it but thats how I draw it so???)

In the original I made her hair fade from pink to blue as well and I liked that so I kept it!! 

Then I kept the blue button up undershirt!!

I thought about giving it pinstripes but I don't have a thin enough pen or pencil to pull that off so I didn't :P

Hint of her old green shoes coming from the sock color! 

And then finally: stompy boots

Just to tie it all together! :D

Dewey

This man is LANKY!!!!!!!!!!

sorry I don't make the rules

Well technically I do sense I drew the thing- but thats unimportant!!!!

Dewey gets to be tall to annoy his brothers but in return he is LANKY tall

Otherwise I largely followed my original design!! 

All my reasons for the original were solely based off of ✨Vibes✨

I did change a few things though! 

For example: last time I gave him a 3/4 sleeve short and this time I just made them regular short sleeves

Last time I meant to give him shoes but I forgot so this time I didn't forget!! :D

Also cool socks!!

Oh and I added fingerless gloves!!!!!!!! 

This is once again based solely on ✨Vibes✨

I can’t put a lot of my reasons into words but I personally think I captured the theater kid meets aspiring pilot meets best friend to super hero’s sidekicks meets adventurer vibe pretty well!!

Boyd

!! Okay I’m excited to get into this one!

In my original Boyd was the shortest because technically he can pick his own height being a robot and all

BUT for that same reason I made him tall because: he wants to be tall like Gyro

The idea that Boyd wants to be tall like Gyro is literally so cute yall

I also based his outfit largely off of Gyros!!! 

That is: dress shirt, vest, bowtie, pants

But in Boyd’s color scheme! :D

I’m still working out how to Not to make Boyd look like a popcorn bucket but that’s a problem for another day! 

Violet

To start off: literally nothing was changed from the original

akjfdsghkskhal I’m serious no color changes, no outfit elements, nothing

I liked the original one a lot so I just kept it and redid it for this!!

My inspiration for the original was as follows: ✨Librarian Vibes✨ 

And I think I achieved that with the original so I hope I achieved it here as well!! 

Also Violet is TALL

She’s the tallest now and will continue to be the tallest!!!

I mean just LOOK at her dads!!!! They’re SUPER tall!!

So therefore she gets to be tall too!!!!!!!!!

And I think that’s it!! Thank you so much for reading if you got this far!!!!!!!!! :D

Have a nice day folks! :D

[senstia]

Bisexual Matt having a crush on Neil??? Andrew noticing???

yes yess heres some angst and a huge dose of soft and fluffy andreil of course, i love writing neil defending andrew❤️

Andrew couldn’t help but notice, it had been pathetically obvious, truly. Andrew had been hyperaware of the fact that many people found Neil attractive and that even more had crushes on him since he had met Neil. It was just a fact of life. Neil was happily oblivious of course, his gaze only ever focused on Andrew or Exy. Andrew never had a reason to be jealous, or suspicious, not when Neil was so perfectly loyal, not when he unquestioningly gave every ounce of his love, attention, and trust to Andrew with no hesitation. But this was different. Concerning. Not because Andrew was threatened... but because it was... Matt.

Andrew had known Matt cared for Neil, loved him. He had just assumed it was brotherly. Besides, Matt was dating Dan. But now Dan and Matt had been broken up for months and Andrew had noticed Matt’s lingering stares. Matt’s eyes would sparkle whenever Neil spoke, his eyes would flick to Neil’s lips every once in a while. He laughed at Neil more than normal. He found more reasons to casually touch him. Neil didn’t notice, or didn’t care. Neil loved Matt, Matt was Neil’s best friend. But it was quite obvious more than friendship was on Matt’s mind.

Right now Andrew was watching Neil give Matt pointers on his math homework. Matt soaked up every word Neil said, gave every ounce of his attention to listening to Neil, looking at him, and Andrew knew damn well nobody cared that much about math homework. Neil leaned over to write something on Matt’s paper, their fingers brushing. Matt seemed to freeze at the contact. He brushed his hand back against Neil’s. Neil barely noticed, just glanced down for a second and then lifted his hand to write again. Andrew wanted to hit Neil. How could he be so stupid? Andrew shouldn’t have been surprised. Back when Andrew had a crush on Neil, Neil had never noticed, he literally had had to spell it out for him. The idiot. And now Neil was just as oblivious to Matt’s crush too.

And then they were at Eden’s. Neil had invited the upperclassmen, so that meant Matt had come along. Neil usually stayed back and sat with Andrew while the others danced but today Matt had looked at Neil nervously and asked if Neil wanted to come dance with him. Of course Neil didn’t think anything of it. Neil looked to Andrew, as he always did. Andrew just gave him an unimpressed stare.

“Go ahead.”

Neil nodded and followed Matt to the dance floor. Andrew was curious as to what would happen. At first they danced a few inches apart. Andrew’s blood heated at the sight of Neil’s lithe body moving under the strobe lights. But then Matt moved closer. He played it off by saying something to Neil, making it seem like he was only getting closer so that Neil could hear him. Neil stepped closer, leaned in so that he could hear Matt. And then Matt’s eyes were glued to Neil’s lips. Matt’s hands ghosted over Neil’s hips as he stared and stared at those full lips. Finally Neil noticed. Neil looked up at Matt in question. Matt said something and Neil cocked his head to the side, and then nodded. Then suddenly Matt was taking Neil’s hand and leading him out of the club.

Andrew couldn’t help but follow. He got close enough so that he could see and hear everything, but kept himself hidden so they couldn’t see him. Matt was leaned against the wall, Neil standing next to him, looking slightly confused.

“What is it you wanted to talk about?” Neil asked innocently.

Matt rubbed his neck nervously, “Listen Neil there’s something... I-I don’t know. I can’t. I shouldn’t-,” Matt stuttered nervously.

“Matt?” Neil asked, looking concerned. Neil stepped closer to Matt and looked up to his face, “Is everything okay?”

Matt sighed deeply, “I think- I- Can I show you what i’m trying to say? It’s too hard to talk.”

Neil cocked his head to the side, “Okay?”

Matt bit his lip, “Just... don’t tell Andrew.”

Neil immediately froze at the words, taking a step back.

Neil was on the defensive now, “Don’t tell Andrew what?” Neil asked harshly.

Matt took a step closer to Neil, splaying his hands wide, “Please Neil. I just... need to do this.”

Neil just narrowed his eyes and stayed silent, waiting. And then before Neil could react, Matt was kissing him, his hands in Neil’s hair. Neil’s entire body locked at the contact and he shoved Matt away.

“Matt! What the hell?”

Andrew was about half a second away from putting a knife in Matt’s gut but he wanted to see what Neil would do next.

“I-I’m sorry” Matt stuttered, “I had to.”

“What do you mean you had to? Do you like me or something?”

“I’m in love with you Neil,” Matt said miserably.

Neil stepped back. His face hardened.

“Matt thats not... We’re just friends. You’re my best friend.”

“I know Neil. God! I know! You think this is easy for me? I didn’t expect to fall for you. But you’re just... you’re everything Neil. You always have been. I know you don’t feel the same, but I just.. I had to try. Just once. Just don’t tell Andrew. He’ll kill me.”

Neil was shaking his head over and over, stumbling backwards.

“Matt thats... that’s not okay. You know I’m with Andrew. You asked me to hide this from Andrew. I’m sorry Matt. I know this is hard for you and I know l’m being insensitive right now but fuck you. I’m with Andrew. Don’t ever, ever ask me to hide something from him. Especially something like this. Andrew is it for me. I am in love with him. Only him. You know that. Did you really think I would kiss you back? I would never cheat on Andrew, never give him any reason not to trust me. Andrew is the love of my life Matt. You fucking know that. I’ve told you that. So what the hell was that?”

Matt’s entire body was shaking, he looked distraught.

“I know Neil, I know. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I just... I’ve been losing my mind and I’ve wanted to tell you everything for weeks but I knew this would happen and I was terrified and I couldn’t think. Couldn’t talk. I didn’t know how else to show you. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you without permission. I shouldn’t have asked you to hide something from Andrew. I know you two are in love. I know that. I’m so sorry Neil.”

“It’s okay Matt. Just don’t do it again.” Neil said harshly, “I think we should probably take some space for a while, so you can work out your feelings. You’re my best friend. But I’ll never be able to be more than that for you. I need to go find Andrew. Don’t make that face. He’s not going to do anything. He’s not the monster you all think he is.” Neil started to walk away, then glanced back at Matt. “Are you going to be okay?”

Matt smiled a soft, sad smile, “Yeah i’ll be okay. I knew it was always going to be this way. Some space is probably best though. I’ll see you around Neil.”

Neil just nodded and walked away. Andrew intercepted him. Right when Neil saw Andrew he knew he had heard the whole thing. Andrew didn’t look angry, or tense. He looked calm and at peace. Andrew just gestured to the car and Neil followed. Once they were inside they both sat in silence for a moment, neither moving.

“Drew?” Neil said softly.

“Hmm?”

Neil just looked at him, waiting.

Andrew sighed, “I already knew Boyd loved you.”

Neil blinked, “You did? How?”

Andrew rolled his eyes, “Not everyone is as oblivious as you Neil.”

Neil huffed out a laugh and lifted a hand to Andrew’s cheek. Andrew nodded a yes and Neil stroked his cheek over and over as he stared at him.

“Only you Drew. I’ll only ever love you, only ever want you. No one else matters.”

Andrew didn’t have the words. When he had heard Neil say all those beautiful things to Matt, defending him, loving him, he had felt like his heart might explode. How was it that this silver tongued beautiful redhead loved him... he didn’t know. But he’d cherish it every day til he died. Because Neil was it for him too. The only one he loved, the only one he wanted, forever. It had taken him long enough to admit those things to himself. To Neil. Now that he was comfortable enough to let himself feel it, say it, it was everything.

“Me too,” Andrew whispered roughly, “Only you Junkie.”

“Yes or no?”

Andrew answered by leaning in and kissing those perfect lips, cupping Neil’s perfect face in his hands. Neil pulled back and brushed his nose against Andrew’s, their foreheads together. They stayed that way for a while, just quiet, breathing each other in. Andrew had never had someone who loved him so unapologetically, who defended him and trusted him and stuck by him through every dark turn. It struck him stupid every time he thought of how Neil loved him. It didn’t seem real. Pipe dream.

Andrew didn’t realize he had said that last phrase aloud until Neil replied.

“I’m not. I will always love you Andrew. I will defend you and stick by you and trust you every day for as long as you let me.”

“I know. Me too,” Andrew took a deep breath, “I heard everything you said to Matt. Thank you.” Andrew’s voice was rough with emotion.

Neil lifted his head, kissed Andrew softly on the forehead.

“No thank yous. I will always choose you. Always tell you. Always defend you. Don’t ever expect anything less.”

Andrew just sighed and twined his hands in Neil’s hair, “Okay.”

After a while Neil winced, “I think I was a little too harsh with him.”

“He’ll be fine. He knew it was going to happen.”

“Do you think he’ll ever be my friend again?”

Andrew shrugged, “I’m sure he’ll get over it. It will take time though. Boyd is the sensitive type.”

Neil cringed, “Oops,” and then asked, “How did you know he had feelings for me?”

“Because I recognized the symptoms.”

“The symptoms of what?”

“Of loving Neil Josten.”

Neil’s cheeks flushed a deep red. He leaned in close. “Yes or no?”

Andrew nodded and leaned in too. He expected a kiss but Neil wrapped Andrew in a tight embrace, tucking his head into the crook of Andrew’s neck. They held each other tightly for long minutes. Neither of them hugged anyone very often but sometimes it was a way to convey their love when words just weren’t enough. After a while Neil sighed.

“I love you so much Drew.”

Andrew just stroked his fingers soothingly along Neil’s back, “I love you too Junkie.”

[jemej3m]

(mobster/cop au) what did the foxes think Andrews husband would be like before they met Neil? Did they had a bet?

this is…..not what you asked. i went off on a tangent lol, but i aint sorry.

(also i, for some reason, just cannot write good betting scenarios. might be because gambling addictions are p.serious. i know its all in good fun though! so im sorry i couldn’t include it)

*

Getting information about Andrew was like pulling teeth, and this was news to no one. Seeing as Kevin was - probably, maybe, most likely - Andrew’s closest friend at the precinct (other than Renee. And Wymack, possibly), Dan and Matt seemed to look to him after the discovery that Andrew had a husband when they’d all been trapped in that basement. 

“Why would I know anything?” Kevin objected, when they’d approached him. 

“Because Renee won’t give up his secrets and I know you’re as curious as we are,” Matt supplied. 

“Well, I know nothing that y’all don’t already know. Apparently he’s married to a guy. I once overheard him talking on the phone to a Neil. Assuming that Andrew has no social life - which is an easy assumption to make - his husband is Neil.”

“Ooh,” Dan said, wiggling her eyebrows conspiratorially. “Mr Neil Minyard. Anything else?”

Kevin just shrugged. “Nope. Andrew’s a wall. You’ll never get anything more than that.” 

*

Dan crouched down behind the car, breathing heavily. “Fucking hell,” she muttered, as another round of bullets sprayed out. She hated shootouts. At least Matt was safe at the precinct: she’d been doing a patrol with Andrew and Renee when they’d been radioed. 

“Good that it’s a dead area,” Renee insisted, forever a ray of sunshine and goodness. How she and Andrew got along was a conspiracy to be marveled at, but it worked. “We shouldn’t be dealing with any civilian casualties.”

“Hey, coppers!” came a voice. “Fuck off! This ain’t your problem!” More bullets. 

Dan rolled her eyes, then flinched as the car they were all crouched behind was fired at. Andrew grunted, a furrow between his brows. 

“We told you to fuck off - !” the same guy yelled, before he was most definitely shot, making a gurgling noise in lieu of words. 

“Andrew, south east,” Renee called. Andrew got up on his knee and aimed quick: he was one of the sharpest shooters on the squad. Dan heard a female scream “Shit!” as the shooting quietened. 

“Nice shot,” she told the detective. He just grunted. “Right, clear out. Let’s never sign up to patrol this section of town on a Friday night again.” 

“Agreed,” Renee mumbled, holding her gun close. 

It seemed that whoever Andrew had shot got away: a pool of blood without a body remained evident on the path. The other group had abandoned their loud-mouthed friend, who was still writhing on the tar as the ambulance arrived. He’d only been shot in the arm, and it hadn’t hit bone. He’d be fine. 

“Alright,” Dan told her two officers. “How about we sign off?” 

They both grunted in agreement. 

*

It was Tuesday morning, and Andrew’s desk was empty for a second day in a row. Dan folded her arms and stalked towards Wymack’s office to demand that the captain give Minyard a call, but he held up a broad palm as she entered the room.

“Andrew’s cited a family emergency.”

Dan narrowed her eyes. “Sure.”

Wymack simply arched a brow at her. “His husband was shot. If you want to cross-check for me and give him a call, be my guest, Wilds.”

Dan slowly retreated out of the captain’s office. She wasn’t suicidal enough to give Minyard a ring, not under those circumstances. Wymack’s word was definitely good enough. 

She went back to her desk as Matt sidled up beside her, pressing a kiss to her hair. 

“No PDA at work,” she complained. 

“Shift’s over,” Matt pointed out, grinning. She rolled her eyes. “What should we get for dinner?”

“Not sure…” Dan trailed off as she watched Renee packing her desk, checking her watch rapidly and hastily slinging her bag over her shoulder. She pattered over to the bullpen’s kitchen and drew out a casserole dish from the freezer, lifting the foil to check its contents. With the dish held against her hip, she checked the freezer closed and made her way to the elevator. 

“Whatcha got there, Renee?” Matt piped up, helping the dish out of Renee’s hands when she’d dropped her phone. It wasn’t often that Renee got flustered: she hastily picked up the mobile and tucked her hair behind her ears. Dan noticed she was wearing lip gloss. 

“Well, since Neil’s been - sick,” she started. 

“Shot,” Matt supplied. Dan glared at him: he shrugged. “What? I read Captain’s lips.”

Renee snorted, taking the dish back now that she was more organised. “I offered to make dinner, and Andrew prefers punctuality. I just hope that Neil likes it: I’ve never made this quiche before.” she worried, quietly. “Andrew said he hates vegetables but will put up with them when they’re hidden away. And hopefully Allison will eat eggs, and cheese.”

“Allison?” Dan inquired. 

“Neil’s best friend,” Renee said, still distracted as she looked for her car keys. “Oh, heavens, I’m so late.” 

“Go,” Dan insisted. Renee smiled gratefully. “Tell Andrew we say hello.” She nodded and jogged towards the exit.

“And tell Neil to get shot less!” Matt added, unhelpfully. “I won’t keep doing his paperwork!” 

Dan laughed and leaned into her husband’s shoulder. She looked up at him, her chin brushing the crook of his neck. “Do you think Andrew will ever let us meet him?”

“Not sure,” Matt said. “It would probably completely ruin his cred as a stoic asshole. He’s probably a massive sap at heart.”

Dan smiled into the collar of Matt’s shirt. “Never put Andrew Minyard and sap in the same sentence again, babe.” 

Matt just laughed and looped a hand around her waist. 

*

“So,” Matt said, leaning against the edge of Minyard’s table. “How was your week off?”

“Great,” Minyard said flatly. “Go away.”

Matt ignored him and sat in the victim’s chair, leaning his chin on his hand. “You know, I’m pretty sure you and your husband have been married longer than Dan and I have. Do you have any anniversary suggestions?”

“Get a divorce,” Minyard grunted, looking at his report.

Matt grinned. “Don’t be like that. What did you and Neil do last time?”

“Nothing,” Minyard mumbled. Matt noticed his cheeks going red and rose up his eyebrows. Minyard noticed his look and scowled. “It was our anniversary this week and he was bedridden. Quit looking at me like that, Boyd.” 

“A January wedding,” Matt cooed. “Did you take photos in the snow?” 

“I will castrate you.” 

“Cool,” Matt said, airily. “Well, happy anniversary, Andrew. Tell Neil we said hi.”

“I won’t,” Andrew insisted. “Get lost.” 

Matt snorted and did as he was told. He’d intended to say hi to Renee, but she was over at Dan’s desk, so he sauntered over with his thumbs hooked into his pockets. 

“Hey, Renee,” he said, grinning. His fellow detective and his sergeant raised their eyebrows at him. “I’ve been thinking,” 

“You should be working,” his wife reminded him. 

“Andrew just had his anniversary, right? But they couldn’t do anything because Neil’s been bedridden. We should all pitch in for a gift. Maybe a weekend away?”

“That’s a lovely idea, Matt,” Renee said, grinning. 

“How the hell did you get that information out of him?” Dan said, incredulous. 

“I’ll email you some ideas: you know the two of them, best.” Matt rubbed his hands together. 

“Preferably not New York, not somewhere warm, or somewhere with lots of people,” Renee advised. “Neil is apparently forever antagonistic and it drives Andrew up the wall.”

“Sexy up the wall or angry up the wall? I don’t think we should be encouraging strenuous activity when Neil’s been recovering from a bullet wound.” Renee just laughed, neither confirming nor denying Matt’s inquired. She bid both of them good day and went back to her desk, ignoring Minyard’s inquisitive looks. 

“Why are you doing this?” Dan murmured. 

Matt shrugged. “Dunno. I feel like he deserves it.” 

Dan smiled at him. “Alright.” 

*

Kevin, Renee, Matt and Dan were all sitting in the breakroom. Andrew stormed in, bright and cheery as ever. It was a blissful Tuesday morning, sleet pelting down and temperatures well below freezing: As Andrew tugged off his scarf, revealing a wind-pinked nose and a fair amount of love bites just above his collar, he chucked a tin onto the table. 

“Who’s idea was it?” Andrew accused. 

Kevin watched Matt grin, looking up at Andrew. They were almost the same height even with Matt sitting down. “How were the mountains?” 

“Very pleasant,” Andrew muttered, peeved. “Neil baked those as thanks. I hope he poisoned them. You’re all the worst.” After a moment, and a reprimanding glance from Renee, he mumbled out a quiet “Thank you.”  and just as quickly as he’d come in, he turned to leave. He must have caught his reflection in the window, because he hastily tugged the scarf back around his neck, cheeks turned pink. 

Kevin huffed, looking to his colleagues. “Are you satisfied enough, now? I, for one, now know way more about him than I ever wanted to.” 

The Boyd-Wildses opposite him just grinned. 

*

ehheeheewill i ever post the renison + wedding thing? hopefully yes - if i dont run out of steam first. almost 2/3s of the way through my rbb and its taking longer than i thought!!!! also moving out of state, so a lot is happening rn and if that means i neglect ur asks and prompts i am very sorry!!!! 

[ellewritesathing]

(Un)Requited  -  I.L. II

Summary: Isaac Lahey had gone through many twists and turns in his life, but none of them compared to the whiplash he got when you asked him to tutor you. With a few weeks until the end of the semester and the big dance coming up, he’s hoping to figure out a way to ask you to go with him before it’s too late.

Masterlist Prev. | Part 2

Word-count: 3.3k+

A/N: i’m sorry for taking forever to update this but!! here we are!! i hope you guys enjoy it!! 💕💕

“Life coaching?” Derek repeated, looking up from his book for the first time all morning. He hadn’t interrupted Isaac once or shown any sign that he was listening, and then all he said was two words.

Isaac tried to be offended by his tone, but honestly, the idea was a little ridiculous. He couldn’t blame Derek for thinking it was a dumb idea, especially after hearing thousands of dumb ideas from Erica and Boyd over the years.

“Yes. Life coaching,” Isaac said, folding his hands neatly in his lap. 

“I think it’ll be good for him,” Erica said, grabbing an apple off the table. She started cutting it with a knife as she spoke, “I mean, it’s obvious that his life is in shambles.” 

“Hey!” Isaac said defensively. It was true but she didn’t need to say it. 

Erica shrugged and offered him a slice of her apple. 

“Yeah, that was a little harsh,” Boyd said as he slid his oatmeal bowl away from him. Isaac was going to thank him but then he continued, “It’s only obvious to us because we live with him.” 

“Hey!” Isaac whined. 

Erica laughed and ate a slice of her apple, talking through her full mouth and offering cut pieces to Boyd. Their lighthearted bickering soon devolved into a fight, with threats of claws coming out and knowing comments about what would happen when the other slept. Isaac tried to be cool and calm about it, but Erica knew exactly how to push his buttons. 

“Look, it doesn’t matter what you guys think anyway,” Isaac said eventually, arms crossed over his chest and breakfast untouched. “I’m doing it.” 

Before Erica could snap at him, Derek got up and drew all the attention to himself. “Is it going to interfere with our plans?” 

“No,” Isaac answered immediately. At least he didn’t think it would. 

“Then do it…” Derek locked eyes with Isaac over an empty bowl of cereal that he was clearing away “-quietly.” 

Isaac figured he must have pulled a face because all three of them started laughing and Derek was telling him to lighten up and that he was making a joke. He had to pretty wound up if Derek I-Never-Smile Hale was telling him to lighten up, but Isaac picked up what he meant: Isaac could spend all the time he wanted with you, but his duty to his pack came first. 

Like you would ever want to get close enough to him to interfere with the pack, but a guy could dream. 

---

The week could not have possibly gone by any slower, but eventually it ended and all Isaac had to do was wait it out until Monday ended (which took forever). Then it would be Tuesday. Then he could talk to you again, because then it would be the first of hopefully many tutoring sessions.

The fact that Isaac planned all this out was kind of embarrassing - and he knew he could never plan enough when it came to you because you made him act like an even bigger idiot than he already was  - but is it so bad that he wanted to be prepared? That he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of you? 

Now that he was sitting next to you, though, Isaac realized that he would never be prepared for you and he would never not embarrass himself. You were sitting next to him, looking like you just stepped out of a magazine shoot to boost literacy in teens; hands covered in ink, messy eraser shavings on the ends of your sweater, and deep lines of concentration on your face. And he couldn’t stop staring. It was embarrassing. 

“I’m not getting it,” you said in a quiet voice. You sighed and sat back in your seat, clearly frustrated. “I’ll just marry up. I hear trophy wives never need to do algebra.” 

Isaac laughed. “You’re not gonna be a trophy wife,” he said. He thought that would make you feel better but you raised an eyebrow at him. “Uh, I mean, of course you’ll be a trophy wife. You’re really hot- I mean. Anyone who ends up with you will be- I just meant that, you know, you’ll get this. You don’t have to-” 

Now it was your turn to laugh. And though he panicked at first, your laugh eased all of Isaac’s worries and he relaxed into his seat … until you put your hand on his arm and sat up. You looked at him with kind eyes and made his heart beat out of his chest. “Show me again?” you asked with a smile.

“Yeah, sure,” Isaac said once he started breathing again. “Okay, so-” he took the pencil out of your hand “-The problem you have is that you don’t carry over your coefficients. See? Like this.” 

When Isaac stole a glance at you out of the corner of his eye, you were biting your lip as you stared at his messy handwriting. Logically, he understood that you were trying to figure out the problem but irrationally he was cursing out his dad for breaking his hand because he was wasting too much time drawing comics. His handwriting had never recovered and he was convinced that you were staring at it and not the numbers on the page. 

“Okay, coefficients. Got it,” you said with a small nod after a few seconds that felt like lifetimes. “And I add them?” 

“No. Multiply.” 

“Huh.” You got so quiet that Isaac could hear you breathing. He could do that before thanks to his super-senses, anyway, but you were so close now. It was different. It made him more flustered when you were inches away. 

You reached over his arm for the hand that was holding the pencil and Isaac almost passed out. Were you trying to hold his hand? No, you were writing something. Should he let go? What was the protocol for this? 

“Like this?” you asked when you were done, not noticing his existential crisis. 

“Uh…” Isaac looked down and pretended to pay attention. Your handwriting looked perfect, but then again everything you did was perfect to him. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s perfect!” 

“I did it?” you asked, frowning at the page. Isaac laughed and nodded, mumbling something encouraging that he didn’t pay attention to. “I did it!” You let go of his hand and lifted both of your hands in the air in surprise. It was adorable. You were adorable.

“You did it,” Isaac smiled. He sat up straighter and started flipping to another section in the textbook. “Ready to tackle something new?” 

“No.” The words came out a little too fast and Isaac smiled at you again. “I just mean … I should practice this some more before we go on, right? Just to make sure.” 

Isaac closed the book and shrugged lightly as he leaned back in his chair. “If that’s what you want, then sure.” 

You laughed slightly at him and pushed some hair behind your ear. “You’re so sweet, Isaac. Thanks for this.” 

“Yeah, of course,” Isaac said. His voice had dropped to a quieter volume and you held his gaze for a few seconds. He wasn’t sure what he did but it felt like time slowed down for that split second. Isaac would have given anything to know what you were thinking.

You spent the next fifteen minutes doing practice problems, and Isaac spent that time trying to focus on his English assignment - a task made undoubtedly more difficult whenever your knee accidentally brushed his leg. Who cared about Hamlet and his mommy issues when you were right there? 

“Okay! Done!” 

You beamed as you slid the piece of paper over to him. Your smile fell as Isaac started checking your answers, but he could have told you that you had nothing to worry about. Even if every answer was wrong, you’d get it eventually.

After checking them all, Isaac looked up at you and smiled at how anxious you were. You were biting your lip and your eyes were double the size as you waited for him to give his verdict. 

“You’re going to be putting me out of business soon,” Isaac said, looking back down at the paper and sliding it over to you. 

You laughed again and Isaac felt his heart melt in his chest. He’d be dead by the time finals week came around.

“Speaking of business,” you said as you let out a breath after filing the practise questions. You shifted in your chair to look at him, drumming your fingers on the table lightly. “When do you want to get together for me to teach you about girls?” 

Your tone was playful but there was something in your voice that Isaac couldn’t place. That uncertainty, coupled with the fact that he’d forgotten that he asked you to do that, resulted in Isaac staring at you with wide eyes and a stumped expression. 

He realised he had to say something so Isaac sputtered out the first words that came to his mind. “Friday? After school?” 

“Don’t you have lacrosse practice then?” you asked. Isaac frowned slightly; he didn’t know that you knew he was on the team. 

“Oh, right. That,” Isaac said awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. You laughed again and Isaac used that time to think of something to say. The weekend felt too far away to suggest it. Even if it was just a day later than Friday. 

“I’ll tell you what,” you said with a smile as you started packing away your things. “I’ll sit in the stands while you practice. You can check my homework when you’re done. And then we can go to my place to talk things through. Sound good?” 

“Sounds great,” Isaac exhaled. He couldn’t believe this was working or that you offered to sit through his lacrosse practise and then spend the rest of the afternoon with him. 

“Perfect,” you smiled. You got up and shouldered your backpack, throwing a smile at him over your shoulder. “See you at practice, Lahey.”

God, did you just wink at him?

Isaac watched you walk away, and - once he deemed the distance to be enough - he slumped down in his chair and groaned. He was in way over his head. And he was only digging himself deeper. How was he going to get through practice without taking a ball to the face if he knew you were watching?

--- 

Lacrosse practice was going surprisingly well considering that Isaac had a heart attack every time he looked at the stands and saw you cheering him on instead of doing your homework. At least, Isaac thought it was going well until he saw the look on Coach’s face. 

“Lahey! What the hell has gotten into you?” 

The whole team was jogging back to the bench to be dismissed, and Isaac didn’t think he was that bad during the practice to warrant getting called out. Greenberg sucked way more than he did and Stiles can’t play for shit.

“Uh, I had something different for breakfast?” Isaac said uncertainly, turning his lacrosse stick over on itself as he spoke.

Coach looked at him like he was insane. Worse, actually: like he was Greenberg. But then he said, “Well, whatever that was you better keep eating it! You hear me? You were great out there!” 

“I was?” 

“This is why I’m not nice to any of you.” There was that glare again as Coach pointed his finger accusingly at Isaac. He shook his head and threw his arm in the direction of the locker rooms. “Hit the showers! You all stink!” 

Isaac started heading that way when he saw you running down the bleachers with a notebook in your hands. His heart beat faster than when he thought Coach was going to kick him off the team.

“You were great!” You were beaming at him again. “I think. I know more about algebra than I do lacrosse.” 

Isaac laughed. “Well, maybe I could show you how to play sometime,” he said with a small smile. He felt strangely at ease now that you were next to him. 

“I’d like that,” you smiled, voice quiet again but still smiling. “Uh, do you want to check this before or after you shower?”  

“I can do it now.” Isaac sat on the bench and read through your practice problems. “You missed a few but most of them are good. Solid B- work.” 

"B-?” you repeated. 

Isaac’s heart spiked. Was he supposed to lie to get you to like him? Was he supposed to just say everything was right?

“That’s great!” You took the notebook and pencil, staring at the ones Isaac had marked wrong. You didn’t even look up at him when you spoke next. “Go shower, I’ll be right here when you’re done!”

Though Isaac was confused and a little distrusting while he showered and changed, he still felt good about the interaction. It was the first time you two had spoken and he hadn’t stuttered - that was a start. 

True to your words, you were sitting on the team bench when Isaac came out. You'd swapped the algebra homework for a book in the time he was gone and you didn't seem to notice him until he was right next to you. 

“Pride and Prejudice,” Isaac said after reading over your shoulder. “The one with Keira Knightley is my favourite.”

“Mine too.” You looked up at him with a smile and closed the book. Your cheeks looked slightly flushed, but that was probably from all the sun and nothing he’d done. It was gone an instant anyway. “Are you ready to go?”

Isaac nodded and you got up, shouldering your bag. He picked up the notebook that was lying next to your bag and held onto it as the two of you walked towards your car. 

“You carry my books, you’re smart, and like Pride and Prejudice?” you asked, nudging him with your elbow and giving him a smile. “Why do you need me to impress your dream girl? You seem like a real catch to me already.”

Isaac didn't know how to respond so he laughed and scratched the back of his head, mumbling something about not being so sure about that. He was quiet for most of the drive to your house, just stealing glimpses of you as you hummed along to the radio and giving you a quick thank you for giving him a ride when you stopped in the driveway. 

He stayed a few steps behind you as you walked up to the front door and unlocked it. You let him in and dropped your bag inside, shaking off your jacket and kicking off your shoes. You said he could do the same, if he was comfortable, and flashed him another heart-stopping smile. 

“I’ve just gotta feed Max,” you said. “Do you want something from the kitchen?” 

“Just some water,” Isaac said politely. 

“Sure thing.” 

You motioned for him to follow and he did. Isaac watched as you filled up a bowl with dog food, and no sooner had you set it down had an Australian shepherd come bounding around the corner and into your leg. 

“Hey, buddy,” you laughed, rubbing his back. “This is Isaac. He’s gonna be hanging around for a bit, okay? Hey, you’re not allergic to animals, right? It’s probably a little late to ask.” 

“Me? Oh, uh, no. Don’t worry about it.” Isaac smiled and bent down to stick his hand out but Max didn’t like that. He barked and you jumped. 

“Max!” You reprimanded him and tugged on his collar to keep him close to you. “Buddy, come on. Isaac’s a friend.” 

Max simmered down so, after apologizing a few times and offering to take him to the yard, you turned to grab some glasses from the cupboard and Isaac decided to make his move. The only way to get Max to cut it out was to show him who he really was. So, while your back was turned, Isaac flashed his bright yellow eyes at the dog and watched his demeanor change. 

Max let out a small whimper before padding over and curling up around Isaac’s feet. 

“See, buddy, I knew you’d like him,” you said happily when you turned to find Isaac and Max. You handed Isaac his water and crouched to pet Max. Looking up at Isaac, you said, “I’m so sorry. Max is usually never like that with strangers.” 

Isaac smiled, relieved that you didn’t suspect anything. “Yeah, no worries. We’re all good now.” 

“Yeah, you are.” You smiled at him again and rubbed Max one last time before standing up and getting ready to walk out of the kitchen. “I was thinking we could just go to my room and talk for today?” 

“You, uh- your room?” Isaac repeated, immediately reverting back to being nervous. He knew you obviously didn’t mean anything by it, but still. Erica and Cora were the only girls whose rooms he’d ever been in, and they both tried to kill him before he made it two feet in the door.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep the door open,” you said with a mischievous smile and Isaac mentally slapped himself for being so awkward. Then you added while the two of you were walking, “Plus, it’s not like anyone else is home,” and he tripped up the stairs. 

Luckily you didn’t say anything about his literal and figurative misstep. 

Isaac figured if he could just stop his heart from beating out of his chest, he might actually have a shot at pulling this off. That is, until he walked into your room and saw possibly the biggest, fluffiest, and angriest cat he’d ever seen. If Max had been a challenge, this cat would be a near impossible feat to get over. 

Isaac hovered at the door, not taking his eyes off the cat. “You have a cat?” 

“Oh, yeah.” You set your glass down and walked over to the bed, scooping up the ball of fluff. The cat made an upset sounding noise at being woken up, but started purring as soon as it realised it was in your arms. Jesus, that thing had to be bigger than your entire torso. “This is Magnus. I got him when Alex went off to college.” 

“Oh.” 

“You wanna pet him?” you asked, pulling increasingly adorable faces at the cat. You laughed when Magnus bonked his head into yours. “He’s a little grumpier than Max but he’ll warm up to you just the same.” 

“Uh, sure,” Isaac lied. He reached out a tentative hand and Magnus swatted it away, claws and all. He made a low growling noise and leapt out of your arms. 

“Ow!” You winced as Magnus jumped, clearly not expecting the abrupt motion. “Oh, my god, Isaac. Are you okay?” 

You reached for Isaac’s hand and he almost blacked out. The jolt of electricity that started where your fingers grazed his hand and spread through the rest of his body surprised him. You were holding his hand in both of yours, inspecting it gently.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I don’t think he got me,” Isaac said quietly. You were so focused that speaking any louder felt wrong. 

It also felt wrong to lie to you. Technically, Magnus had scratched him but it wasn’t deep so, in the seconds it took you to process what happened, the scratch had healed. Isaac was perfectly fine now.

You were still frowning at his hand, though, and Isaac worried he’d done something to mess it all up, that you could somehow sense he was lying. 

“Hey,” Isaac said gently, turning his hand around so he was the one holding your hand. Aside from the minor cardiac attack it caused, it felt good. Meant to be. “I’m fine. Promise.” 

“I could’ve sworn he scratched you,” you said, equally gentle and quiet. You shook your head and laughed under your breath. “You think I’m crazy now, don’t you?” 

“There is literally nothing you could tell me that would make me think you’re crazy,” Isaac laughed. If you knew half the stuff he’d seen since joining Derek’s pack … 

You gave him a small smile and squeezed his hand before pulling away. “So, you wanna get started?”

Part 3

Tagged: @ietss​  @lettherebelovex​

[when-they-write-stuff]

Can you combine “Sometimes I just want to cuddle, okay? Is that so bad?” and “That tickles!” ? I love your writing

See, the thing was, Stiles knew werewolves were clingy.

He’d come to realize this from the moment he started spending more time at the loft. There was always a werewolf near or around or on him. Like, literally on top of him. Erica would plop down in his lap when Stiles was trying to do homework, Isaac would drop his feet into Stiles’s lap when he was watching TV, Boyd would lean up against his side and take an actual nap. 

Stiles had come accustomed to the fact that werewolves were clingy.

Except for Derek Hale.

Derek Hale, the big bad ‘I am the Alpha’ werewolf of Beacon Hills never got within five feet of Stiles. And he didn’t understand it; maybe he smelled bad, maybe Derek didn’t go for teenage boys (that sounded so much better in his head). But whatever the case was, Derek avoided him like the plague.

And at first, Stiles didn’t understand it. Then he felt vaguely hurt. And then, when he tried to sit next to Derek during pack movie night and the man purposely stood up and moved away, Stiles decided to do something about it.

Because dammit, if Derek wouldn’t be touchy feelzy with him, then Stiles would be touchy feelzy with Derek. He was determined to train the big bad Alpha of Beacon Hills to accept some love.

(Wait, not love. Totally not love).

It started with the little things. 

Stiles had been spending his summer at the loft more than he was spending it anywhere else and he’d come to notice that the others were too. Jackson had started coming to the pack trainings and of course, Lydia came with him. Scott was hanging out a lot more often too. He’d even started letting Derek attempt to teach him the ways of “Alpha” which were actual words that came out of his mouth and that made Stiles laugh for two days straight.

The point was, there were werewolves everywhere now. The entire pack was always around. And Stiles was getting a personalized game of ‘space invaders’ except for when he and Derek were in the same room.

So he had put together a plan. Or, less of a plan and more of an outline. A faint idea. Something he hoped would end up working, but he couldn’t exactly be sure.

Because it couldn’t be that hard to make excuses to get close to Derek, right? Stiles was determined to prove to him that not all touch was wrong. He just had to choose his battles.

Stiles was terrible at choosing his battles.

First, it was Stiles coming over long before training and purposely standing right next to Derek when he was making coffee. When the man would give him a strange look and try to shift away, Stiles would only grin and follow, which usually ended up becoming a game of tag around the kitchen counters.

He stopped doing that when Derek finally got tired and tipped a glass of cold water over Stiles’s head. Stiles had gone home that day cold and wet, and even more determined to make Derek accept him, even if he was a furry asshole.

From there, it became a pack night thing. Stiles would purposely wait until Derek had sat down and there was no more space anywhere else before dropping down at the end of the couch, situating so his legs were holding Derek captive against the cushions, and then he’d pretend he didn’t hear the man’s growling as the rest of the pack gave him looks like he was going crazy.

He wasn’t going crazy. Stiles just had a plan.

That particular plan ended up with him on the ground and Erica laughing hard enough to snort soda out of her nose, so Stiles thought maybe he should think things through a little more next time.

He was starting to wonder if he was… well, annoying Derek. Because the more Stiles tried to get all touchy-feely, the grouchier Derek became. It got to the point that even when Stiles brushed past him by accident, Derek would flash his eyes and show a bit of fang.

When training came one of the mornings four weeks later, Stiles wasn’t feeling so good about his supposed ‘plan’ anymore.

He moved over to plop down at Lydia and Allison’s side. There were always three out of five of the werewolves that would get shirtless during training and the three of them often lived for it.

Stiles would like to say he absolutely did not salivate over that though, thank you very much. He never ever felt a little gooey every time Derek knocked one of the betas flat and he could always keep his heartbeat and emotions in check when the man would glance over with red eyes.

That would be a lie, but Stiles would say it anyway.

But unfortunately, there was no show today. Because unfortunately, today was the day that Derek was more grumpy than usual and decided all onlookers could participate in training. 

Not that Allison needed it— she didn’t hesitate at the opportunity to kick Jackson’s ass. Lydia flat out declined— and nobody ever dared disagree with her— but Derek wouldn’t take no for an answer when Stiles tried to do the same.

Which might have been how he ended up facing down a smirking Erica with a feral look in her eyes. Stiles was pretty sure today was going to be the day he died.

The moment Derek said ‘go’, Erica was moving forward, Stiles was flailing away, and then he was being flipped onto his back and slammed against the floor.

The breath punched from his lungs. Stiles laid there for a moment and just gasped at the ceiling, stars circling above his eyes. Faintly, he was aware of Jackson laughing himself into a second death, and Erica looking immensely proud, and then there was a face hovering over his own as Derek kneeled at his side.

“That was terrible.”

“Gee,” Stiles gasped, still trying to find his breaths. “Thanks, Sourwolf. Fragile human here, in case you’ve forgotten. I get winded walking up the stairs into this place.”

Standing beside Erica, Boyd’s grin widened. Derek only rolled his eyes and grabbed Stiles’s hand, pulling him to his feet.

“Your position was off from the start,” he said. “You retreated back instead of moving forward and didn’t even attempt to fight back when Erica came at you.”

“Yes, Derek, that might be because I was terrified for my life.”

“You need to know how to fight, Stiles, if you’re going to be facing the things that threaten Beacon Hills with the rest of the pack.”

Stiles glowered at him. “Excuse me, asshole, but I have a very fine baseball bat. One that I recently upgraded to metal, I’ll have you know. It can easily flatten skulls and if you’re not careful, I might have to give it a test run on angry Alpha werewolves.”

Derek’s eyebrows drew together and he just glared. Stiles sighed, brushing past him.

“Whatever, Derek, I can fend for myself. Just next time, don’t pit me against a homicidal blonde maniac on werewolf steroids— no offense, Erica—”

Suddenly there was a hand on his arm and Stiles found himself being flipped again. He hit the floor with a startled “uurff” and a few feet away, Scott looked horrified.

It took Stiles’s brain a moment to catch up. But when it did and he realized that it was Derek pinning him down, frustration rose in Stiles’s throat. He tried to wiggle loose but Derek’s grip only tightened on his arm and pain lanced all the way down from his shoulder. Stiles squeaked and went still, and Derek placed a knee on the small of his back, leaning forward.

“Would a baseball bat protect you against that?”

“Let me go grab it and we can try again asshole!”

“You need to know how to defend yourself without a metal pole,” Derek said. The man’s warm breaths against his ear would probably send shivers down Stiles’s spine on any other day but this time, all he did was glower harder.

“Get the hell off me, Sourwolf! Or I swear to god, I’m going to put wolfsbane in your coffee the next time you’re not looking.”

Derek sighed, but moved back, letting go of Stiles’s arm. He winced as he shifted it and slowly pushed himself up, his entire body screaming in pain. Jackson looked amused, Lydia just looked exasperated, and Allison looked a little sympathetic. Stiles ground his teeth together and turned to glare at Derek.

“Maybe next time, I’ll just know better than to turn my back asshole werewolves. Is that a better plan?”

“Stiles—”

Stiles just flipped him the bird and stalked out of the loft. He didn’t know why the hell Derek felt the need to call him out and put him in the spotlight because Stiles could defend himself just fine, thank you very much. 

He didn’t need the man’s help.

Lydia was allowed to go with the pack wherever they went and Derek didn’t get all grumpy with her. Yeah, the banshee could probably scream his ears out, but still. Stiles could be very deadly with a baseball bat, especially when it was metal.

“Stupid clingy but not clingy werewolves,” Stiles muttered, stalking toward Roscoe. 

No one followed him out of the loft so he was pretty sure he was getting a little over-irritated about nothing. But Derek had a way of getting under his skin that the other betas didn’t. And it didn’t help that Stiles was pretty sure the entire ‘training session’ was just payback for how close Stiles had been trying to get to Derek lately.

If the man didn’t like it, he could’ve just said something. He didn’t have to beat Stiles to half-unconsciousness and then insult his baseball bats.

Stupid clingy but not clingy werewolves.

His dad was still on a shift when he got home, so Stiles was free to slam as many doors as he wanted. He stalked up to his room and slammed that door extra hard, and then flailed back so hard as he turned around, that he rammed against the door and gave himself a whole new array of bruises.

Because Derek was sitting on the edge of his bed. Derek Hale was sitting on the edge of his bed with one eyebrow raised and Stiles didn’t even know how he’d gotten to his house first—

Oh, right. Werewolf.

Stupid grumpy growly werewolf that Stiles was currently very pissed at, that is.

“Get out of my house, asshole.”

“Stiles.”

“Don’t ‘Stiles’ me, Derek! I’m pissed at you!”

Derek looked at him for a long moment. Then he dropped his eyes to the floor. “Sorry.”

Stiles blinked. He hadn’t expected that.

“I wasn’t trying to call you out in front of the entire pack,” Derek said quietly. “But… it’s my job as your Alpha to make sure—”

“Please don’t finish that sentence.”

Derek glowered at the floor. Stiles sighed and moved over, plopping down at his side. Derek glanced at the few inches between them and then started to shift sideways, and Stiles caught his arm before he could pull completely away. 

“What the hell is up with that?”

Derek froze. His face pale and his shoulders went rigid, but he still wouldn’t meet Stiles’s eyes. Quietly, Stiles curled his fingers into the man’s sleeve.

“Derek, why do you always pull away from me?”

The man didn’t answer for a long moment. Just when Stiles thought he wasn’t going to get an answer, heart sinking into his shoes, Derek shifted a little and raised his eyes. “It’s not… right.”

Stiles’s stomach did drop into his shoes then. “What?”

“It’s not right,” Derek said quietly. “You get close to me and then you smell like me and— and it’s not right. You’re not supposed to do that.”

“Do what, attempt to cuddle?”

Derek’s eyes snapped up and rounded. Stiles gave him a flat look.

“I was joking, Sourwolf.”

“Why.”

“Why what? Why am I joking, why am I attempting to cuddle, or why am I downright pissed that you won’t let me do any of those things?”

“Why do you care?”

Stiles stared at him. Derek fidgeted nervously and his fingers grasped at Stiles’s sheets, and Stiles realized then that he was dealing with an idiot. None of this was Stiles’s fault. Not exactly, at least.

It was Derek’s. Because Derek was a big bad grumpy Alpha of Beacon Hills who didn’t know how to accept the fact that he deserved nice things.

“Oh my god,” Stiles said. Before Derek could react, Stiles was tackling him to the mattress and the man went shock-still. Red eyes stared at him and Stiles smirked, before rearranging himself so he was curled around Derek, the same way the betas often curled around him, and he was pretty sure there was no way Derek was escaping.

The man didn’t move a muscle. Stiles wasn’t even sure if he was breathing. But then, when he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse.

“Stiles, what are you doing?”

“You can put this all on me,” Stiles said, burying his face into Derek’s neck. “Consider it like this: sometimes I just want to cuddle, okay? Is that so bad?”

“I—” the man tried to shift and Stiles squeaked as stubble rubbed over his forehead. Once more, Derek went stock-still. “Stiles?”

“That tickles.” 

“... Really, Stiles?”

“See,” Stiles mumbled into his neck. “I’m trying to teach you a lesson here. So you’re not allowed to move until I have cuddled everything that is Derek Hale and when we have a movie night tomorrow night, you’re going to let me sit right up against your side. Or nearly in your lap, if Erica decides to go with a horror film.”

He half expected Derek to throw him off. Or maybe rip out his throat. But the man only went lax with a sigh. “You’re an idiot.”

“That’s fair.”

“If you mention this to anyone, I’m going to kill you.”

“Also fair.”

Derek was quiet for a moment. Then he shifted and pulled Stiles futher into his chest, breaths warm against his forehead. This time, Stiles did shiver. He felt like he had the right to. “Thank you.”

Stiles didn’t say a word. Just smiled against his skin. 

Because the thing was, Stiles knew werewolves were clingy.

He’d come to realize this from the moment he started spending more time at the loft. There was always a werewolf near or around or on him. Like, literally on top of him. Erica would lay across him with Stiles was relaxing, Isaac would curl up in his lap when Stiles was playing video games, Boyd would use Stiles as a pillow and knock out for three hours straight. 

Stiles had come accustomed to the fact that werewolves were clingy.

Except for Derek Hale.

Derek Hale was an enigma. Derek Hale was a giant fluffy asshole that made things much more difficult than they had to be. But Stiles was determined to train the big bad Alpha of Beacon Hills to accept some love.

Yeah, love, totally love. He was a sap, okay? Sue him.

It started with the little things. And might have ended up with the Sheriff stumbling across his son and Derek Hale cuddling fast asleep on Stiles’s bed four hours later. 

Stiles decided they were both idiots, then.

- -

Thank you for the prompt, friend! I had so much fun with this one. Cuddle feels are my absolute favorite.

(if you enjoy my writing, consider supporting your underpaid student writer? You can also request a prompt if you’d like!). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writer

[mrsalwayswrite]

Say You’ll Stay - Chapter 7

Fury/Band of Brothers Crossover Fic

We finally meet up with Easy Company!

Tag List: @happyveday​ @alwaysindecemberfeels​ @god-of-dramatic-death-scenes​ @saritanotserena​

Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

------------------------------------------------------------------

The morning arrived with a slight fog, bringing a sense of otherworldliness with it. As if ghosts stood along the tree line just watching and waiting in complete silence. Everyone moved with shifty feet and wary eyes, voices staying low. The starting of engines only exasperated the stillness around them. It had been decided, with so many men killed and wounded in the company, the whole group would travel to Haguenau. From there the wounded could be evacuated to a hospital and hopefully replacements sent for those lost. 

 Anna wandered around the tanks, checking in with the other medics and just trying to stay warm. Wrapping her arms around herself, she tried to keep the wintery cold at bay. A coat taken off a soldier, who no longer needed it, now covered her filthy nurse’s uniform. She tried not to think about wearing a dead man's coat, rather imaging it was a spare. Her legs were still exposed to the elements from the knees down to her short uniform boots, making it impossible to fully warm up as she walked around. 

"Mount up! Let's go!" The call echoed around from several different mouths, stilling the nervous restlessness hanging over the company. 

 The wounded were placed on the tanks to ride since they did not have a truck to transport them anymore. Besides the officers and those in the armored division, all the foot soldiers were forced to continue walking. Not a perfect solution but it was all they afford to do right now. Hopefully they could escape another surprise attack. 

 Ignoring those around her, she made her way towards Fury. Both to keep an eye on the wounded laying or sitting on the tank but to also stick close to the tank's crew. She had woken up that morning, still huddled against Boyd's side, wrapped in Don's leather jacket and the spare blanket from Gordo. They shared what breakfast they could with her before she had to head off and start rounds. Medic Arthur Christianson had taken over lead medic from Joe Hunter. A blow they all felt but this was war and you just learned to keep moving. The two other medics had been courteous enough to her from the beginning so it was not too much of a hardship to work with them. 

 Each medic had chosen a tank to walk next to and keep an eye on its wounded. She had immediately claimed Fury. 

 "Anna!" 

 Looking up, she noticed Boyd staring down at her from his spot on the tank. 

 "What you doin' down there?"

 She glanced around then stared back at him. "Walking." She stated with a casual shrug, not understanding what he was getting at. 

 Grady chuckled from his spot next to Boyd. Smoke curled around his mouth as he exhaled, the cigarette still between his teeth. 

 Boyd rolled his eyes with a deadpan expression. "I see that. Thank you. Why ain't you riding?"

 "Only wounded are riding. I'm fine, Boyd. I don't mind walking." She tried to assure him, a small smile on her face. Hopefully that masked how cold she actually was and the agitated nerves humming throughout her body. She walked a little further towards the front of the tank. Fury only carried five wounded, spread out along its sides. Stopping at a young soldier with a bandage around his head, she touched his leg to gain his attention. "How are you feeling?"

 The brunet opened his eyes, looking down at her from where he reclined on the tank. A shy smile crossed his lips. "My head ain't spinnin' like it was."

 "That's good. Let me know if that changes." Patting his leg, she smiled back at him. The young soldier was one she was particularly concerned about. During the initial explosion, he had been thrown back and landed hard on his head, getting knocked unconscious during the process. Eventually he woke back up but with a bloody head wound. 

 Tucking a few strands of wayward hair behind her ear, she adjusted Joe’s- no, her medic’s satchel across her body. Her heart clenched slightly at the reminder. Her own personal bag had been in the supply truck, now a pile of ash. Her few extra clothing items, her beloved book from home, the few letters she had from her family and friends along with what little money she had been holding onto, all gone. All destroyed in the fire that raged throughout the night as it consumed the supply truck. It hurt more than she thought it would. It was just stuff, but it had helped ground her, remind her of home. Without it, her soul felt slightly adrift. Even as she tried to convince herself it was just stuff, that it was replaceable, that twenty-two men died while she still drew breathe…. she still missed her belongings. 

 "Hey, dollface. Nice legs you got there."

 She pretended to not hear the comment from the lanky soldier sitting on the tank, bandage around his calf. She remembered him. A bullet ricochet hit his calf but he screamed like his guts were being ripped out, then he threatened one of the other medics until he received morphine. 

 "Ah, c'mon, smile. I just gave you a compliment." He called after her, a sleazy smirk on his face. 

 "Hey, shut up." Boyd demanded, having turned to glare at the offending soldier. 

 The arrogant soldier looked over his shoulder at Boyd as if surprised to be called out. "What? Like you can't see them." He snickered, continuing to leer at the nurse. 

 Anna closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Unfortunately, she was used to men like that by now. Even if she hated dealing with them. She had a job to do though. War did not care if the men it wounded were good or bad, kind-hearted or arrogant, gentle or dangerous- it took them all. Her job was to save as many as she could from War's grasp. To allow as many men as she could to return to their families one day. 

 She turned slightly to meet the eyes of the lanky soldier. "Is there something you need, soldier?"

 "Aren't you going to check on me, darling?" He winked at her. 

 In a sudden flurry of movement, Grady roughly shoved the soldier off the tank without preamble. The soldier screamed as he hit the ground, landing on his hurt leg. The sound echoed in the air, bouncing off anything nearby as if to gain momentum in volume. Everyone nearby jumped at the sound, eyes locked on the soldier swearing and rolling on the ground. Anna stared in horror and confusion, a hand over her rapidly beating heart, unsure if she should intervene or stay to the side. Her answer came in the next moment as Grady hopped off the tank to stand between the soldier and Anna. 

 The soldier screamed, grabbing at his leg as he rocked on the ground. "What the fuck was that for?! Christ, I'm wounded, you asshole!" 

 "Yeah, shut the hell up." Grady said, just staring down at the soldier. He turned to look at Anna but never turned his back completely on the soldier. "You good?"

 She nodded mutely, beyond surprised and made quite speechless by Grady's actions. 

 "Coon-Ass! What's going on here?" Don stormed towards them, cigarette hanging from his lips and fire in his eyes. 

 "Nothin', Don. He started talking shit 'bout Anna. I shut him up." Grady shrugged, staring at his commander. A silent understanding seemed to pass between the two. Don gave a curt nod and only after that did he even acknowledge the man on the ground. 

 "You his Sergeant?!" The soldier was yelling, teeth bared like a rabid dog. "He pushed me off the goddamn tank! He can't do that!" 

 "Yeah? Well, sounds like you fucking deserved it." Don pulled the cigarette from his lips, blowing the smoke out. His eyes quickly shifted to Anna to scan her quickly before dropping back down to the soldier. 

 "Cause I complimented the fucking nurse? You know what, fuck you! And fuck the bitch!" 

 Don whipped out his pistol and pointed it at the downed soldier. Every sound ceased. The air froze. No one moved. Tension radiated from the scene. It felt with one wrong move, one wrong sound, Don would shoot. Even the wounded man stared in horror and rage at the pistol aimed at him. Everyone waited to see what Don would do. Anna covered her mouth with her hand, terrified that if she even peeped, Don would shoot the man on accident. When Don spoke next, Anna had never heard him sound so cold, it physically sent shivers down her spine.

 "I highly suggest you shut that big mouth of yours before I put fucking hole in your other leg." 

 If looks could kill, the soldier would have killed the tank commander twice over with the lethal glare he leveled at Don; but he wisely kept his mouth shut. The two stared at each other, almost willing the other to say something and set them both off like ticking time bombs. 

 After several tense moments, Don was the first to rip his gaze away and look over at Anna. Without a word, he beckoned her over with his hand. Worried and a little intimidated, she hurried over to stand between him and Grady. 

 "Anna, up you go now." The tank commander stated, nodding towards Fury, the threatening tone not quite fully leached from his voice yet. 

 "Wha… oh, no, I'm ok, Don. I promise."

 Those intense eyes bored into hers, immediately stopping any further excuses from passing her lips. "I can see you shaking like a leaf from the cold. I won't ask you again."

 "She can take my spot with Bible." Grady said to Don, looking over her head. "Keep her warmer."

 "Good. C'mon then."

 Next thing she knew, she was being manhandled by Don. He lifted her up as if she weighed nothing and set her onto the tank, where Boyd took her hand and slipped her into the gunner's spot with him. Her legs immediately felt marginally warmer as they were no longer bared to the cold elements. 

 Don climbed up to his spot, just on her left. None of the other soldiers, wounded or walking, would meet his gaze as he scanned over those nearby. As if just a shared glance would unleash his terrible ire onto them.  

 "I could have gotten up by myself." She grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest as she glanced over at him. 

 His hands stilled from placing the helmet on his head, his eyes meeting hers for a brief moment. "Whatever you say, doll." He winked quickly at her then looked forward, tapping a hand on his comms to speak. "Alright, let's move out."

 After that the tank jerked forward, Boyd had reached over to help keep her upright. Once settled, she tucked her face into her coat; not because of the cold, but in hopes no one would notice the blush on her cheeks. Butterflies danced in her stomach and it took her mentally berating herself to keep the stupid, giddy smile off her face. A simple wink should not have this much of an effect on her. Her mind decided to remind her of how it felt to have his hands on her and how easily he lifted her. That thought made her face heat up even more. 

 To distract herself, she peeked over her shoulder to see Grady sitting just behind her on the tank, watching the tree line with his mouth slightly open. 

 Although she still felt somewhat tense around Grady, he no longer looked at her as if she was a piece of meat to be ogled. She had noticed it the prior night as she joined the Fury crew and fell asleep leaning against Boyd. Followed by his strange actions today, she could not help but wonder what changed… if whatever occurred between him and Don in the French town had more of an effect than she realized. Maybe he was not such a bad man after all? Giving people second chances was something her mother preached and Anna found herself trying to do. Maybe now was a perfect example?

 Those on Fury rode silently for several miles, just watching the surroundings. Her thoughts turned dark, wondering if she should write Joe Hunter's wife. Obviously his wife would receive a condolence letter from the army but maybe it would help if she received a personal letter too from someone who worked with him? Who knew him and how devoted he was to her? Then again, she did not want his wife to misread her letter somehow and think Anna and Joe had an affair and now Anna was writing a letter out of guilt? Would someone do that? Or would they keep quiet about it? Her thoughts bounced around in her mind like ping pong balls, constantly moving but never actually in a helpful way. 

 "Where you from, Anna?"

 "Mmm?" Boyd's sudden question drew her from her inner musings. She lifted her head to look at him from staring at her nails as she picked at them. It took her an embarrassingly long moment of him staring at her with his eyebrows raised for his question to sink it. Heat filled her cheeks but she hoped it was not too noticeable. "Oh, sorry. I grew up in South Carolina but my family moved to Virginia, so that's where we lived the last few years. What about you?"

 He hummed, shifting slightly. "Missouri."

 "I've never been there. Do you miss it?"

 "I reckon. I miss the people there more, ya know?"

 Don cut in, still staring a head. "What he means is, he misses his girl."

 Her eyes widened and her head moved so fast from looking at Don on her left side to staring at Boyd on her right, she almost gave herself whiplash. "You have a sweetheart?"

 "Yeah." He shrugged casually as if it was not a big deal but the small smile on his lips and the light in his eyes betrayed him. 

 "And you haven't told me this?! You were getting on my case about seeing if I had one and this whole time you did!" She smack his chest lightly, making him flinch while Don and Grady laughed. "What's her name?"

 "Sarah Grace." His eyes softened even just saying her name. "Prettiest woman on God's good earth, I swear."

 She smiled at the fondness in his tone. 

 "We was gonna marry but then the war broke out and I felt called to join up. So she's waitin’ for me. When we get back, I'll start seminary and we'll get married."

 "If she's still waiting and not married someone else."

 Boyd narrowed his eyes at the mechanic behind Anna. "Grady, you just tryin' to get me riled up. It won't work. I know she'll wait."

 "Maybe she done run off with someone already." Grady countered, a smirk on his face. 

 "I just received a letter from her last month. You know that."

 "That was last month…"

 "I swear, Grady, if you don't-"

 "Alright, alright. Knock it off." Don said, grinning. It was obvious this was a continuous argument but was born out of teasing than any true malice. Boyd mumbled something under his breath, shoving his hands in his pockets.

 "Well I think it's sweet, Boyd. I'm happy for you." She bumped his shoulder, erasing the scowl on his face. In a split second decision, she looked behind her at Grady. Second chances, she told herself. "Where are you from?"  

 Initially, he seemed startled that she would ask him but quickly hid the surprise with his usual indifference. "California."

 She turned to Don next. "And you?"

 "Kentucky."

 It felt like she had to physically tear her eyes away from his or else she would be trapped in them. There was an intensity in them that balanced on the edge of exhilarating and terrifying. All it took was a small breeze to push him one way or another. So far she had only seen the kind and protective side of him. Now though, after he pulled the gun on the wounded man, she had seen a brutal side. It reminded her of when Norman mentioned about when he first met Don. Now she could see it, what Don had forced Norman to do. It sent a chill down her spine. People were forced to commit terrible crimes all the time during war. Was this side of Don because of war or just something that lurked under the surface continuously? She found herself worried about the answer. 

 Boyd interrupted her thoughts, continuing the conversation. "Gordo there is from Texas. Norman is from Pennsylvania."

 "Y'all are from all over the place." 

 "Yep, all it took was Hitler startin’ a war for us to meet."

 They all chuckled but grew quiet again at the sobering thought. 

 Anna could not help but think about where she would be right now if she had not joined the Nurse Corps. She had hoped to go to college and become a teacher. It was not glamorous but the very thought of it brought a smile to her face. Much to society's chagrin, she wanted more from life than to just marry the first man that came around and start having his babies. But it did not matter now. She was not even on the same continent of her birth. 

 She pushed back the thoughts of before and focused on those around her. The smell of cigarettes from the soldiers surrounding her. The chill in the air that clung to her without reprieve. The sight of what should have been a beautiful forest but set her on edge, expecting another surprise attack. She could not focus on what she was missing out on. War happened. And she answered the call. Even if it had been to get away from her own sins and ruined reputation.  

 *****

 The next afternoon, the company and tanks rolled into Haguenau. Snow dusted everything that had not been trampled yet. The air hung heavy with fatigue and despair. Supposedly the Allies were winning the war, but with the looks on the faces around… you would not suspect that. The sound of a mortar slamming into the ground up ahead made Anna flinch. She could not help but wonder what kind of new hell she had been taken too. 

 "Let's park in the rear. Don't need those Krauts aiming for our tanks." Don said over the comms. 

 When the tanks stopped, everything ground to a halt around them, followed by Captain Evans pulling up in his jeep. "Sergeant Collier! You'll come with me. Let's find out who's running this shit show."

 "Yes, sir!"

 Anna slid off the side of the tank, careful of her cold, bare legs. Instead of riding that day with Boyd, she had instead elected to ride next to a young soldier who had been shot in the shoulder. Tears slipping down his cheeks but the soldier never made a sound. The whole ride she held his hand on his uninjured side. Occasionally, she had to check on the other wounded but she always returned back to the young soldier. He never cried out, just whispered a near silent 'thank you' and held her hand tightly. 

 She could hear the men being told to stay put until further orders were given. Most were used to the routine by now. Stand around until directed where to go next. It was something she was adjusting too. Ignoring those yelling commands around her, she fixed her mangled uniform and coat as much as possible and looked up at her patient/companion. 

 "I'll be right back." She tapped the young soldier's leg before walking away in search of Medic Christianson. 

 She found him talking to one of the other medics, standing near a different tank. "Arthur, what do we do now?" She asked, rubbing her hands together to try and warm them up. Spring and its accompanying warmth could not come soon enough. 

 "We need to find the aid station they have here. Hopefully get the men moved there and transported to a hospital." He said, lighting a cigarette. After a drag, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Right, I'll go. Keep an eye on those around here."

 "I'll come with you." She said probably far too brightly if the looks given to her said anything.  

 His green eyes narrowed at her a moment before he shrugged. "Fine. Let's go."

 She started to follow him, arms wrapped around herself in the large army-issued coat. For a second she wondered if she should tell Boyd where she was going then she dismissed it. He was not her keeper. She was here to do her job. 

 They wandered into the corpse-like city of Haguenau. It looked desolate. A mere illusion of what it had once been before war corrupted its beauty. Bombed buildings, craters in the streets, the staining of blood scattered along the ground and snow. Anna had never seen a place like this before. 

 After receiving directions from a passing Sergeant, they found the building housing the aid station. It was a two-story house that looked semi-stable, but far better than others surrounding it. Which was not a high standard. Anna and Arthur quickly ascended the steps and walked inside, not just to get out of the cold but to avoid the sporadic mortars. 

 "Something you need?" A voice asked them as soon as Arthur closed the door behind them. 

 The two looked over to see a man watching them from a side room. He had short black hair, thin beard, open face and medic badge on his arm. His head was tilted to the side, the cap on his head sliding slightly with the movement.

 "We just arrived with our company and we've got wounded." Arthur said, taking charge and moving another step into the building.  

 "Uh huh." The man eyed them then turned back and called out toward another room. "Hey, Roe!" He looked back at the two by the door, it was obvious the calculations crossing his mind as he prepared his question. "How many wounded?"

 "Eighteen."

 "Shit. What happened?"

 Anna kept back, allowing Arthur to take the lead. The dark-haired medic's eyes flickered towards her occasionally as if wondering what she was doing there but chose not to ask. Rubbing her hands together, a brief smile lifted the corners of her lips. Just being indoors, the permanent chill in her bones receded just enough she did not worry her legs would turn to icicles. It had only been a few days since the company left the small French town but being continuously outdoors, day and night, was something Anna found she disliked fervently. She looked over as she heard footsteps coming around the corner. 

 Arthur was still talking to the dark-haired medic, explaining what happened. "They laid landmines in the road, then when we stopped they fired on us from the surrounding woods. Perfect fucking ambush."

 "Damn Nazis." The medic shook his head. "You hear that, Gene?"

 The one called for came around the corner. He also had dark hair, pale skin and a sharp jawline. His eyes though were dull and a hint of red lingered around his nose like he was getting over a cold. His uniform was clean but even that could not distract from how bone-deep weary he appeared. "I 'eard. We got room upstairs. Won't be an issue."

 She froze, her mind whirling. That voice. She recognized it. Not many medics she had encountered had such a distinct Cajun drawl. Her brain frantically raced trying to remember where she knew it from. 

 "Eugene?" She found herself asking, hesitation in her voice. The man's head whipped over to stare at her. "Eugene Roe?"

 "Yes, ma'am. Have we met?"

 "Yes… I mean." She tucked some loose stands of her hair behind her ear, nervous that he would not remember her. "It…. It was back in Albourne. We did some training together. I'm Anna… Anna Cooper."

 One could watch the light bulb go off in his mind and his eyes light up. "Chérie?" His voice almost held an element of awe to it, that she was here and real. 

 She nodded, feeling tears fill her eyes. There was something in the simple nickname that tugged at her heart's strings. It reminded her of a time before war. Before blood and screams. Before the memories of death were stronger than memories of home. When it would just be the two of them at the aid station in Albourne practicing bandaging one another or swapping stories of their homes when homesickness struck them. 

 He hesitated for a moment before walking towards her. Seeing him move, she practically sprinted to him. They collided in that drafty building in Haguenau and for a moment, both felt like they could feel the sunshine on their faces and a spring rain to cleanse the taint of death from their skin. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. His own arms enclosed around her much smaller frame, surrounding her in warmth. Tears slipped down her cheeks, wetting his ODs. For once, she was not even ashamed. 

 "It's alright, chérie, it's alright."

 She laughed wetly, tipping her head up to look at him. "I can't even tell you how happy I am to see you."

 "I got that impression." 

 "Don't ruin the moment, Gene."

 He chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. "It's good to see ya too." He released her to step back and fully look at her. It was then he seemed to finally noticed her attire, or lack thereof. His eyes narrowed staring at her bare legs and short uniform boots before jumping back up to her face. "How did ya end up here? And what 'appened to ya uniform? Ya must be freezin'."

 "It's a long story...and we ran out of bandages, so…" she shrugged, gesturing to her clothes, self-conscious of her exposed skin. 

 Gene and the other medic shared a look before Gene looked back. "I expect to ‘ear it later, and we'll find ya some spare ODs. Spina, we got any in the new winter lot?"

 "Uh...I think so." The dark-haired medic responded, eyebrows almost touching his forehead. 

 "How many wounded y’all got?" Gene asked Anna.

 "Eighteen."

 "Bring 'em here. We'll make room. Medics?"

 Arthur answered this time, arms crossed over his chest. "Three medics and Nurse Cooper."

 "Good. Know how long y’all stayin'?"

 "No." She peeked over at Arthur, who confirmed her answer with a short nod. "We only just arrived."

 Gene looked over at Arthur. "Careful bringin' 'em here. We'll get space set and some coffee for ya." He peered down at Anna, eyes softening. "Let's get ya some warmer clothes, chérie."

 "I swear you're an angel… a Cajun angel."

 He chuckled, shaking his head. "Whatever ya say." Putting an arm around her shoulders, he guided her towards a different room. 

 And for a moment, she was reminded that one could find joy even in the midst of war. 

 *****

 The tank commander stood in the back of the crumbling, dank room observing the scene before him. He had followed Captain Evans and his two lieutenants to the HQ for the battalion holding Haguenau. Personally, he would rather be back with his men instead of here listening to formal introductions. This battalion did specifically ask for him and his platoon, so he steeled himself to get through this.  

 "I'm Captain Evans of the 103rd Infantry Division. This is Lieutenant Diggs and Lieutenant Cox. Behind them is Staff Sergeant Collier of the Armored Division." The Captain, who was clearly the oldest in the room by at least a decade or two, stood in the middle of what most likely used to be a nice living room, if the damaged chandelier hanging above him said anything. Now the place looked somewhere between trashed and abandoned. His two lieutenants stood just behind him as the introductions took place. "I'll get to the damn point, eh? We were blitz attacked on our way here, lost twenty-two men and another eighteen wounded. Fucking Krauts. I'm requesting permission to regroup and have our wounded taken care of before we move out."

 The red-head with the Captain's bars on his jacket nodded quickly, granting permission before Captain Evans even finished asking. "Of course. We don't have a lot to spare but we will what we can." He reached his hand out to shake hands with the grizzled captain. "I'm Captain Winters of the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 101st Airbourne."

 "Paratroopers, eh?" The older man eyed the other captain after shaking hands.  "Heard you are some mean bastards. Nice to see the reputation isn't wrong for once."

 "Just doing our jobs."

 "Right. We'll get outta here, eh? Thank you again, Captain."

 "Sure." Captain Winters stated kindly but still with a hint of a guarded tone. "You need anything, ask for myself or Lieutenant Speirs of Easy Company."

 With a final nod, Captain Evans and his two lieutenants walked out. A strange silence fell over those in the room after the door slammed shut behind the Infantrymen. Don suddenly felt like he was back in the elementary school yard and was waiting to get picked for a team. Thankfully the silence did not last long. 

 "Armored Division? Are you our supposed tanks?" A dark-haired man asked, sitting propped up in a corner, flask openly in hand. This was his first time speaking, instead having just watched the prior introductions with a cocky grin.

 Don eyed him, noting the Captain bars on his uniform. "Yes, sir. 2nd Armored Division or what's left of it."

 Captain Winters stepped forward to shake Don's hand. "Thank you for coming so quickly."

 "Yeah, could have used you two months ago. Hell, even a month ago could have saved lives." The other Captain muttered then took a sip from his flask. Don tensed but then noticed the unnamed Captain's aggression seemed more directed at whatever happened two months ago versus Don himself. 

 The red-head looked over his shoulder. "Nix…"

 "Yeah, yeah, I know."

 Winters looked back at Don. "How many tanks do you have?"

 "Four, sir."

 "Good...good. There is talk of some smaller towns nearby we will need you for, to provide assistance with liberating and securing. Until we know for sure, your men find somewhere to stay. As of now, you are under my direct command, understand?"

 "Yes, sir."

 "That'll be all, Sergeant Collier."

 Don gave a quick salute and headed back out into the bombed out town. As he walked back towards the tanks, he thought about the man whose command he was now under. Captain Winters. There was a calculating intelligence in his eyes, not in a malicious way, but more as a chess master. When he asked Don about the number of tanks, it was apparent his mind immediately took the information and began processing how best to utilize them. Don also noticed how when a mortar landed particularly close to the building, making the few pictures left on the walls shake, neither the red-headed Captain nor the dark-haired one flinched. At all. The tank commander was unsure fully what to make of the other Captain- this Nix- but he approved so far of what he has seen in Captain Winters. He was a man obviously in control with his authority but was not so far up in the clouds he forgot about his foot soldiers. A rare trait amongst Regiment in Don's opinion. 

 By the time Don arrived back, it seemed most of the infantrymen had dispersed into the city leaving the tanks and their crews waiting for him. He hoped they could find a decent building to claim without resorting to violence. At this point, he was not above punching a few Privates to make sure his crew got a good roof over their heads. 

 "What's the orders?" Binkowski asked, eyeing the city warily. 

 Don sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before answering. "Under a Captain Winters now. Said to stay put until orders are confirmed but sounds like we'll help secure some towns nearby."

 "Heard they're paratroopers." Davis said. He leaned against his tank, lighting up a cigarette. 

 "Yep." The sound of a mortar went off nearby. Don watched Norman startle out of the corner of his eye then rub his nose on his sleeve. He made a mental note to check on the kid once they got settled.

 "Paratroopers?" One of Davis' crew muttered, standing just off to the side. 

 "The idiots that volunteered to jump out of planes." Binkowski answered with a snort and shake of his blond head. 

 "On purpose?" The crew member's eyes widened. Don tried to remember the man's name. Kohl… Colbert… Coulson… something like that. 

 Gordo said, sitting on top of Fury. "Heard they are some real sonsofbitches."

 Don smirked. "Guess we'll find out. Let's find somewhere to claim before all the houses are filled up."

 The men began to move, ready to find somewhere to bunk down. Don surveyed around once more, wondering what awaited them in this hell hole.

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Alright, what did y’all think of Easy’s introductions? Lemme know what you think!

[scratchybeardsweetmouth]

Iain Glen: From Game of Thrones to cycling's dark side when Le Tour came to Ireland

November 4, 2020 | By Esther McCarthy (x) Irish Examiner We last saw him as Daenerys' trusty sidekick, but in The Racer - opening movie at Cork Film Festival - Iain Glen plays a shady character involved in the Tour de France in 1998 Excerpts:

[...] Now a new movie recounts that 1998 tour through the eyes of a cyclist. Though fictional, The Racer shows the dangerous lengths teams will go to for a competitive edge. Shot in Ireland and Belgium, the opening film for the Cork International Film Festival centres on a domestique (support rider) regarded as one of the best in the business. Iain Glen plays the team’s Mr Fixit, the man with the syringes and vials. “I studied documentaries and a couple of films just to get to know the world it occupied,” he says. “What drew me to the script was it didn't hold back its punches, I thought it was a very frank and honest, quite a wry, insightful look at a particularly bad period for drug abuse within the sport.” “That tour became known as the Tour de Drugs because of the amount of drugs that were going down at the time. The people within the team and my character, certainly within the context of the film, didn't have any great qualms about it - everyone was doing it and we were doing it as well. That was the norm. It's ironic to think that (Lance) Armstrong was about to enjoy his great stretch as being the world-leading cyclist and he won so many tours in a row and this was prior to that. During Armstrong’s time everyone thought the sport had got its act together a bit more.” Directed by Kieron J Walsh, the movie shows the extraordinary dangers the cyclists face as a result of blood doping...    [...] “People weren't wrestling with their consciences as they decided how they could compete at the highest level, they were just doing what everyone did. And I thought that was accurate and telling,” says Glen. “You would have to have a gallows humour.” “The conceit of zoning in on this domestique, someone who had sacrificed his entire life for cycling with the intent of never, ever winning himself, who would put his whole life on hold, and then physically put his own body through the abuse that he did to try and compete, I thought was a very powerful conceit for the film.” Glen is one of Scotland’s best-known actors, mixing it up between roles in theatre and the big and small screen. But he didn’t initially consider an acting career, stumbling into drama while studying at Aberdeen University. “It was there that friends of mine got involved and I was slightly dragged against my will into it. I had no idea what actors were and that you could earn a living for what they did.”   That changed when he performed a small part in The Crucible. “I felt that I could occupy that space in my imagination where I believe the world in which I was standing in and seemed to be able to project that in a small way. I just got really addicted very quickly for that feeling. I bumped into it very accidentally, I had no great desire, I didn't even know what it was until I was 18, really.”  Many of those projects have brought him to Ireland - including playing Jorah Marmont in Game of Thrones. A movie shot in Ballyvourney, Co Cork, is one he has happy memories of despite its dark subject matter. “I do have very strong memories of Song For a Raggy Boy and it’s among my favourites,” he says. “It put me together with Aisling Walsh again, who was a great friend and still is. It's an awful part of history. And I thought that the film portrayed it very powerfully and very accurately.” “I played a very disturbed man and all the kids were slightly scared of me, because they were at an age where they didn't see a division between actors and and the roles that they're playing. I remember the last weekend just before we wrapped, I took them all out. We went and hung out and saw a film together and did different things.” “It's amazing how much in denial the higher echelons of the church were and politics and society too. You need to keep banging on the door for it to be really broken down and owned up to comprehensively and fully and certainly the film was one of the early knocks in the door, I think.” LOCKDOWN CULTURE Parenting a young family during initial Covid restrictions made for a busy household, but when Glen turned to culture he found comfort in reading and his guitar. “It's been a tricky time for everyone. I'd love to say that massive new things opened up but to be honest, it's really very pragmatic: how do you cope with young children when they're in the same house all day?” “I've got young kids as well as older ones. The home education was a challenge that was very preoccupying. I play the guitar and that's always a means of getting away from it all a little bit. William Boyd was a writer who opened up to me. I'd worked with William on a film that he adapted the screenplay for. And then I did a play of his called Longing.” “He was very present in the rehearsal for that and he’s a lovely man, but I'd never read any of his writing. I just started to read a William Boyd book and I just couldn't stop reading. So during lockdown, I read about nine William Boyd books, starting with Any Human Heart.”