#THAT POST-DIVORCE PAPERS REALISATION??????????

[ladyarduenna]

i finally started reading the seven husbands of evelyn hugo and can i just say. what the FUCK

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔

part 5 of 🌧️welcome to hell🌧️

summary - you were finally on the path fate had set from the beginning.

warning - slight angst, mentions of cheating, swearing.

the gif I use isn't mine, headers by me.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 6

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

You realised that you owed yourself the biggest apology for putting up with shit you didn’t deserve. A few months had passed since you found out your husband was cheating on you with your best friend. Only to discover that he had been cheating the entire relationship. Johnny had been fighting the divorce the first few weeks of the first month, during that time you couldn’t understand why he was trying to hurt you more by not letting you go. 

But he had finally caved, signing the divorce papers and the moment he finished signing his name, it had felt like you could finally breathe. Your soul would occasionally tremble with memories, and warmth, and pain when hearing his name. Sometimes your heart would break a little more whenever you looked into someone’s eyes that had the same colour as his. It felt like wherever you looked, there he was. 

His name no longer made you smile. It was a relief when you had woken one day to discover that. 

When you left, you didn’t really have a plan. No one to go to and nowhere to live. But you managed, you found a small apartment that wasn’t exactly your dream, but it would have to do. You were starting over, starting a new life. 

You were currently walking back from doing a little bit of grocery shopping, your eyes roamed around, taking in the view around you before you stumbled slightly, tripping over a small rock that seemed to be randomly placed on the footpath. You catch yourself before you fall completely, hands gripping the bags tightly so that they don’t drop. Once you’ve steadied yourself, you look down at the rock and your brows furrow. 

What a strange looking rock. It looked almost like a crystal, coloured a soft pink and shaped like a heart. You shift a bag to your other hand before you bend down, and gently pick it up and examine it. Maybe someone dropped it?

You looked around, noticing that you were right in front of your apartment building. Strange, you could’ve sworn you had a few more steps to take. You move to the entrance of the building, the rock still in your hand. You shake your head, maybe you miscalculated or were too lost in your head to notice that you had been closer than you had thought. You pocket the rock and place one of the bags back into it before you walk inside. 

You head up the stairs, with a soft huff you finally make it onto your floor. Just as you near your apartment, you bump into a wall? No, walls don’t feel so warm and have a beating heart… Or abs? “I’m so sorry!” 

“I’m so sorry!” Why did this feel so familiar? 

You looked up, why were you looking down to begin with? Sometimes you could be so dumb. But your question is left unanswered as your eyes connect to the most beautiful blue ones that you had ever seen, ones that you had seen before. Steve had thought the same about your eyes as he stared back. You couldn’t help but notice that he looked so different, but the same. A beard now in place of his once clean–shaven face, but you noticed his eyes more. They had stayed the same and it was at that moment you knew. You knew that from the first moment you met, it was… Not love at first sight exactly, but; familiarity. Like… Oh, hello, it’s you. It’s going to be you. 

You blink and quickly move away, suddenly feeling as though you’ve been punched in the chest at the realisation. You couldn’t let yourself get hurt again and it had been two years. He probably didn’t even remember you and thought you were a creep for staring or he remembered but he had someone, and you didn’t want to ruin that with whatever the hell you were feeling. You couldn’t get over how rough he seemed though, compared to the man you bumped into two years ago. Maybe it was the beard…

No matter how much you willed yourself to, you couldn’t pull your eyes away from him. Your mind screamed at you about getting hurt again, but your heart and soul weren’t listening. It seemed Steve couldn’t pull his eyes away from you either, you both could feel a pull. You had felt that pull your whole life, it always felt like you were being pulled towards someone or something. The pull only seemed to stop when you bumped into Steve, but the moment you pulled away… It came back.

You couldn’t feel or see it. But the rock was buzzing and glowing. Like it was meant to be. 

You believed in soulmates once. You had the stupid thought that Johnny was yours because he kept popping up in your life. But he never gave you the feeling that you thought soulmates would get. You only felt that feeling when you bumped into…

“I’m sorry again. I don’t mean for us to always bump into each other, ma’am.” Steve smiled, his hands were on your hips, they had shot out to steady you, fearing that you would fall. “It’s nice to run into you again. I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself last time.” In his head, he’s shooting a glare at Natasha, knowing that she would be smirking at this whole thing. You would hopefully never learn about how he had never let that down, always bringing it up to her these past years, causing him to be teased a lot by his friends, but he didn’t seem to mind whenever your face appeared in his mind. Steve blinks, his attention fully on you again. “I’m Steve, Steve Rogers.” 

You stare up at him wide–eyed, he REMEMBERED you? “You remember me?” You clear your throat, your cheeks heating as you suddenly feel his hands still on your hips. “Sorry… I’m Y/n, Y/n L/n.” 

“The stars will go out before I forget you,” He says it so quietly that you don’t think you were supposed to hear him. Steve blinks, suddenly turning pink when he realises you heard him. “I, uh… Yes.” Steve stumbles on his words and to you it is the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen. “Wait… What are you doing here? Not in a rude way! I love that you’re here! I mean, oh god…” 

You smile, you had never smiled this much in your life… Steve seemed to make you forget. You look past him, gesturing to your apartment. “I, uh, live here. I haven’t been here that long though.” Your gaze turns back to Steve only to notice that he was already looking. You wouldn’t lie, your heart stuttered at the possibility of him never looking away. You weren’t used to a man looking at you, just you. “What about you? Are you…” 

Your eyes flickered down to his lips as he smiled. God, his smile is gorgeous. 

“Oh, that’s great! I mean, good… That’s good, no… Uh.” Steve stumbles more, clearing his throat. When did his shirt get so tight? “I live here as well.” He nods to the apartment across from yours, huh. It must’ve been fate. “I–I’m barely home, since…” He swallows, still smiling but he doesn’t continue, as he finds himself getting lost in you. You made him feel like a teenage boy again, where he couldn’t speak a single word without stumbling over them. Though, you guessed it was probably because he had someone already, how couldn’t he? But you were so far from the truth. You smile and Steve’s eyes flicker down to your lips. God, her smile is gorgeous. He shakes his head, “Did you need some help taking those in?” He gestures to your bags. 

Your voice is so quiet as you respond. “I don’t mind…” Somewhere deep inside you knew you wanted to go anywhere with him. Wanted him beside you forever. As he is about to grab a bag from your hands, you pause. “Wait, I’m not holding you up, am I? You were just…” 

Steve shakes his head, “You aren’t! I was just heading to meet my friends, but they can wait.” He smiles, and you look at him with a confused look, feeling relieved that a girlfriend wasn’t mentioned, but guilty for holding him back. Steve manages to take both bags, but you don’t notice, all you can feel is the sparks that light from the small touch. “Don’t worry, they’ll understand. I don’t mind helping, plus. I offered. So you can’t feel bad.” 

Your mind feels fuzzy as you catch his eyes again, the world feels like it has stopped. Steve can’t help but feel the same.

Your souls lit from beneath, filled with joy. They had finally found each other again. Your soul had found his and his had found yours. 

Your souls had been lovers since the beginning of time. 

They would always find each other.

You and Steve could feel it as you continued to stare at each other. 

This was the path you were supposed to take…

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[moonspirit]

Annie hates facial hair. If armin ever tried to grow a beard she will get the divorce papers out and not kiss him

Canon T______T (for some of us, anyway, me included)

But also! Bold of you to assume this boy CAN grow any facial hair in the first place!

Listen, I think he TRIES. Because sometimes being in the military growing up, he's thought he won't be man enough without a moustache or beard! Sometimes the boys who could grow proper facial hair would snicker at those who didn't. Something something toxic(?) standards. But after a while he gives up, realising that it's better to be in the category of guys who clean-shaved, especially given how his ability to grow a stubble is non-existent at best.

And listen, I think he tries AGAIN, post-Rumbling, as he begins to navigate his political career.

The powerful men he has to deal with all sport majestic beards and moustaches, almost making it seem like some sort of mandatory condition to fulfil if you wanted to mingle with them and get things done. Perhaps Armin thinks he should look at least the part of he wants to be acknowledged and taken seriously, and not just be seen as some silly kid among them.

But hmm. His efforts are pathetic, one again. He CANNOT grow out ANYTHING, for god's sake!

And anyway. Annie prefers it this way. She always reminds him she fell for his whole clean BOY BOY look and that if she wanted some guy with a lame five o'clock shadow she might as well have chosen Kenny. This admission always makes Armin go all doki-doki (it's rare to hear her talk about falling for him you know :3)

Plus, this is easier. A stubble just gets in the way when they're um... Getting Things Done (Rated E Version). Annie does not appreciate feeling the scratchy scratchy on her thighs, thank you very much!

[bedbellyandbeyond]

Check In On Your Friends

(Story Post)

“Hej mine kære venner! Jeg kommer med gaver!”

Theo was lounging in bed when he heard the elf raucously burst into his apartment. He was tired, hungry, irritated, and now bigger than he could’ve imagined. The last thing he needed was noise, but he was a bit surprised to hear Korsy was back from his trip.

“What?” Theo groaned, turning over to try and sit up. His stomach stuck out like a torpedo now and sat between his legs, webbed with stretch marks and red from minor rashes.

Henderson let the elf into the room and Korsy beamed, carrying a shopping bag with him. “I said ‘Hello, my dear friends! I come bearing gifts!’”

“Ah…” Theo yawned and waved Henderson over. “Do I have any snacks left?”

Henderson was already prepared and brought him a plate of crackers and fruit. “I just got some groceries today.”

Theo received the plate delightedly while Henderson sat down beside him. “Merci… Ugh, what would I do without you…”

“Shit, dude. Can you even get up with that much baby?” Korsy commented, unable to fathom his friend’s shape.

“Not really…” Theo shrugged. “I’m officially on bed rest.”

“No kidding.” Korsy put his hands on his hips in bewilderment. “Shouldn’t you be on, like, hospital bed rest?”

Theo sighed. “That’s what the doctor’s office said, but now both my usual doctors are away for whatever reason, and there’s just this one doctor there now, who I’ve heard is a whack job, so I would rather stay home. Non, merci.”

“Ah, Dr Gardi’s not bad. But I see your point.” Korsy lifted his bag. “Anyway, souvenirs for you.”

“No way it’s been two months…” Theo said, checking his side table alarm clock for the date.

“No, we had to come back a little early, but I’m leaving again tomorrow morning,” Korsy said as he started rummaging through his bag. “Anyway, I can’t give you all the details, but I did go ‘home’ and I ‘borrowed’ a few things. Catch.”

Henderson jumped a little when a metal object was tossed to him. He caught it and realised it was a gold bracelet of some kind. “What’s this?”

“Sun elf bangle. Drow probably stole it. So, eh. Yours now.”

Henderson was shocked at first as the moment he slipped the bangle on, it adjusted to the size of his wrist. Worried it might be stuck, he pulled at it, but lit up seeing it resize again and slip off easily. “…Whoa. That’s incredible. Theo, look! It fits me so well!”

“It does,” Theo complimented. “It suits you.”

Henderson beamed. “Thanks, Korsy.”

“Don’t mention it. My uncle’s wife doesn’t need it anyway.” Korsy pulled something else from his bag, but this time handed it nicely to Theo. “For you.”

Korsy had handed him a little figure of an elven soldier carved in walnut with silver details. It carried a bow and looked noble. “That’s sweet, Korsy! Wow,” Theo said, admiring the figure. “Thanks.”

“Also, here.” Korsy handed them each something bundled in paper. “My aunt made these traditional elven buns.”

Theo put the figure down quickly so he could take the buns. “Oh, I can smell it already! I love fresh bread.”

“So, she’s you ‘aunt’ now?” Henderson questioned. “After calling her your uncle’s wife…”

“Different women, same uncle.” Korsy shrugged. “Divorce is weird… Karla’s still my aunt though, even if not by marriage.”

“So, why’d you have to come home early?” Theo asked before biting into his bun.

“That’s classified…” Korsy leaned against the bedroom door and sighed. “You guys should really consider some APID jobs. It’d be so much easier to talk to you about this kind of stuff if you have clearance.”

“Working on it,” Henderson said, and Theo nodded but he couldn’t speak through mouthfuls of bread. “Since you’re back briefly, have you checked in on your little…situationship?”

“It’s not a situationship. We’re just friends,” Korsy said. “And no, I don’t think I should bother him right now. I don’t have a lot of time anyway.”

“You made time for us,” Theo pointed out. “I thought you cared about this guy.”

“I don’t! I mean, I do, like friends,” Korsy tried to answer. “It’s just too complicated. He knows I’m away for two months, so he won’t be missing anything.”

Theo and Henderson both exchanged looks and frowned.

“You have feelings for him,” Henderson said.

Theo nodded along. “You like him.”

Korsy shook his head quickly. “Don’t make this something it’s not. I don’t like him like that. And I know he doesn’t see me that way.”

“Mmhm.” Henderson gave his gift bun to Theo and got up. “Korsy, are you looking for a romantic relationship?”

“No, I don’t do relationships,” Korsy said confidently.

“Why not? Are you aromantic?” Henderson asked.

“Ooh!” Theo got excited. “I’ve never known anyone aromantic before.”

“Guys, I’m not aromantic!” Korsy said. “I just don’t have time for that right now. My job is too important, and it doesn’t have room for settling down and having kids.”

“Aw, you want kids?” Theo cooed.

“That’s not what I’m saying!”

“You’re the one who brought it up,” Henderson pointed out.

“Wait, is this the same guy you had a pregnancy scare with?” Theo asked. “Oh, so that whole thing has you worried about your future and fatherhood and stuff. Je comprends.”

“You don’t comprends shit,” Korsy said.

Theo furrowed his brow and motioned to his heavily pregnant belly. “Je comprends.”

Henderson chuckled and wrapped his arms around Theo’s torso to rub his belly. He continued with Korsy’s dilemma. “Anyway, you say your job doesn’t have room for that, but I feel like you’re giving it too much credit. Does APID not provide time regular time off?”

Korsy sighed. “It does, but—”

“Does it not provide vacation time?” Henderson continued.

“Yes. Obviously.”

“Do you use your vacation time?”

“Um…” Korsy shrugged. “Here and there.”

Theo jumped in. “Does APID provide paternity leave and partner benefits?”

“Yes. It’s the government,” Korsy said. He motioned to them. “We have the same benefits. But I’m away all the time for months, and I am often putting myself in harms way. I don’t need to subject a partner to that.”

“You know there are people who are comfortable with that, right?” Henderson reminded. “You know, military spouses and such.”

“That’s their choice, but it’s not what I would want for a partner,” Korsy said. “I’m not ready to put that on someone.”

“But it sounds like you do want that at some point,” Theo said. “If not now.”

“It’s not something I can want, okay?” Korsy was starting to get worked up. “Can we move on from this? Please, I just wanted to drop off gifts and hang out a little bit.”

Theo sighed. “Okay. Do you want to play some games or something? I just got Baldur’s Gate 3.”

Korsy frowned. “The D&D video game?”

“Yeah. You wanna make a character or something?”

Korsy rolled his eyes. “And be what, a drow elf rogue?”

Henderson shrugged. “You don’t have to be.”

Korsy opened his arms. “You know how I feel about D&D.”

“Ah, right, sorry…” Theo tilted his head. “So… You wanna play Tears of the Kingdom or Mortal Kombat or someth—”

Korsy crossed his arms. “No, let’s play Baldur’s Gate I guess.”

Theo grinned. “Really? You won't be offended?”

Korsy shrugged and found himself a seat on the edge of the bed. “Well, I have to try it out to see how bad the representation is, don't I? And, is that a PS5? I haven't tried one yet.”

“Oh, you definitely have to try it,” Henderson encouraged.

“Yeah, here.” Theo tapped his side table. “My controllers are in the drawer.”

Korsy retrieved a controller. “Alright, nice. So, are drow good or bad?”

“Eh, it depends.”

“Hm. Alright, so how do I make a drow rogue?”

“We said you don't have to be a drow rogue...”

“I want to.”

“D’accord, d’accord…”

[Disclaimer: This author does not know Danish. If you do and this is bad, lemme know! I'd love to fix it. I do know French, but if somehow that's fucked too, lemme know.]

[enbysiriusblack]

marauder parents hcs:

mostly for my own continuity fanfic writing reasons

remus- hope and lyall; very in love, they're an adventuring turned sitting on the sofa with a cuppa couple. they both sell things at the village market, and help out neighbouring farms. hope died in early 80s and lyall spends the rest of his life mourning her and his son

james- euphemia and fleamont; literally besotted with each other, best friends turned lovers but it was fleamont crushing heavy on euphemia whilst euphemia was in a highschool romance with minerva. died in each other's arms <3

sirius & regulus- orion and walburga; arranged marriage, knew each other since they were babies (being cousins and all). didn't particularly get on, they just tolerated each other and both had numerous affairs

peter- lydia and cora (mum and dad divorced and his dad legally isn't allowed to see him); lydia was a teen mum to peter and later realised she was a lesbian, got with cora whilst peter was a teenager and cora became his unofficial mum-in-law.

dorcas- bob (mum isn't around/left when she was very young); he's bob the builder /real. is very gay. never came out to dorcas (she knew). sirius was the one who told him dorcas was dead, weeks after it happened. and after it came out in the muggle world of sirius being a huge criminal, bob blamed him for dorcas' death.

lily- jean and lee; both huge workaholics (boring office jobs) and put a lot of academic pressure on petunia and lily. *cough* lee is in love with bob *cough*. lily gets the ginger-ness from lee. they both don't know a lot about their kids life, which they regretted after lily's death.

marlene- catherine and ian; catherine is a huge bitch, we hate her. ian is just there. he's a classic sitcom dad- goes to work, reads the paper, watches tv, occasionally fixes stuff in the house and plays football with his sons. he's much closer to marlene's brothers, since catherine doesn't like marlene doing 'masculine' things. they're both middle class, wannabe perfect and traditional family people.

mary- aymee and ronnie; quite chill. ronnie works at the post office, and aymee sells homemade jewellery. they both get on more with mary than her older goth lesbian sister, sy. aymee went to hogwarts, was in hufflepuff, so is the parent to help mary out with magic related things.

emmeline- mi-sook and yeong-su; yeong-su went to hogwarts so got emmeline to live with her grandparents (in scotland) so she could go there too. as such, she's not that close to her parents. she does gets on with her mum, sending letters to each other every week and spending time together when emmeline visits. but doesn't get on with her dad, him being distant and comparing her to her younger siblings

pandora- tilly and cian; they both worked as apprentices to nicholas flamel after finishing school and met each other there. they're the lovegoods (i'm a 'xenophilius took pandora's last name' truther.) regulus' parents let him be friends with pandora in hopes her parents would get regulus a connection to the flamel's. they both dissaproved of xenophilius but agreed it was better than pandora's previous sapphic poly relationship

[mikaikaika]

hi hey just saw your tubbo tommy divorce post and tbh i don’t go here anymore so i am so so out of touch w the irl lore for the two of them. they got married?? kinda heard about that but i like apparently so many others didn’t realise it was for realises. but my question: why would tubbo lose half his wealth?? someone else commented tommy is refusing to sign the divorce papers?? are they actually about to beef in court or is it just like.. chill and just a legal proceeding?? and most importantly, is tubbo going to be responding to chat while streaming their divorce bc quite frankly i think he should do what the chat polls in regards to what he says, bc i think it would be funnier and quite frankly it can’t possibly get worse than this.

Hey love !! This got a bit long but I tried to cover mostly everything. They originally got married for a vlog and everyone assumed it's a bit. However not just us, but even both of them did not realize it was for realsies. Tubbo only realized when he was joking with Philza about marrying Fitmc in Vegas for a vlog and he made an offhand comment about Tubbo already being married to which Tubbo was like "yeah we signed the papers but its not like official or anything" which led to a very concerned Phil going "WHATTT" and then a spiral of questions, explanations (since they had an ordained minister aka Scott smajor ordaining the wedding) to all the way to today where they are wanting divorce.

Tommy is really refusing to sign the papers and Tubbo wanted to file an interjection ( kinda like a countersue (?) not sure) and in reply Tom wrote a wattpad fanfic (link on his twitter) to "show" their love.

We are pretty certain Tubbo will win because he was technically tricked to get married and most of their friend group is on Tubbo's side for funsies. As for Tubbo losing his wealth, not major clue about the reason but on today's stream he just made that comment then moved onto talking about needing a license to stream so we don't have much elaboration on why and how that would come to be.

As for the option of Tubbo responding to chat and us choosing in polls as to what he should - it would actually be super freakin funny to do this but I am not sure the UK legal system would be too fond but oh well. We were all convinced it was all a bit but its becoming more and more real so not sure. In the end all I have to say is, they are truly called clingy duo for a reason.

[starbiex]

evajacks kiss hint in ouabh??

So I was re-reading OUABH and there is no way this isn't a hint to the evajacks kiss we'll probably see in ACFTL!!

This scene is written with so much more detail than the previous description and introduction of kiss chess, there's no way it isn't a clue to something! I'd think that the whole description about the girl's trembling hands and the boy being nervous would usually be cut out UNLESS it is important 👀

NOTE: this is a long post, and there's a bit of rambling, but I promise I have a point!!!

the young woman in a paper crown

Hmmm... paper crown? First off, Eva is a princess, so the crown definitely makes sense and would suit her. Paper? On one hand, it's probably because it's kiss chess and it's just a board game, so it being just paper would suit the "game" vibe. But a part of me also thinks that it's more special than just for fitting the vibe of the game, I don't have a strong theory for this part but I do think it has something to do with Apollo, or maybe they get a divorce so she's no longer a real princess, or Prince of Hearts x Eva = Princess symbolism. Probably getting offtrack with this one but I know it means something, I just don't know for certain what it is HAHA

standing on her tiptoes to kiss

THIS ONE!!! I didn't realise this one as quickly as I did the others, but this is such a big clue!! In TBONA, when Eva would kiss Luc's cheek, it would describe how she tiptoes to do that. We already know that Jacks is taller than Eva since she has to tilt her head up to look at him when they're close, so it would make sense that she'd have to tiptoe to kiss Jacks a well!! I thought the tiptoeing was just cute and sweet in TBONA, but now I think it's one big clue that leads back to this part in OUABH!!!!

tall young man (in a black bishop's cape)

This one is pretty self-explanatory I think, Jacks is a tall young man, or at least taller than Eva by quite a bit. Agh! I don't have much on the black bishop's cape but I, again, feel like this would be important, or else it would'nt've been mentioned at all! Maybe the black cape could've gone by just fine, but why bishop's cape??

The girl's hands were trembling, but her cheeks were flushed with excitement

Maybe before the kiss, something big happens? like a fight?? she gets her memories back??? I'm not sure, maybe she's just really excited/nervous! Eva's always big on blushing and of course she'd be excited about the kiss!

and the boy appeared almost as nervous. He stood completely still. 

There are a lot of possibilities when it comes to what's happening in / what happened before the supposed kissing scene. Maybe Jacks knew at this point that the kiss wouldn't kill Eva? But, obviously, whatever it is, he's uncertain about the kiss. After restraining himself for letting a kiss happen between him and Eva for the basically the entirety of the two books, I do think that it's unlikely he would be the one to go for the kiss first, whether he know it's safe or not, so I think him standing still for it makes sense!

Evangeline couldn’t tell if he was afraid of the kiss or afraid that the girl might change her mind.

Ok, this sentence!! I think this is a huge one, personally. This most definitely sounds like something Jacks would think, especially after TBONA. Again, maybe Jacks knows at this point that the kiss wouldn't kill Eva, but he'd definitely still be afraid that it would. For the second part, I think this would definitely apply to Jack's mindset for Eva, especially after what happened at the end of the Hollow scenes. His feelings for Eva basically got rejected when she told him it was all because of the stone, and it was shown that this really affected him afterwards.

There are just so many possibilities for this potential scene! How would they know that the kiss would be safe? And how does Jacks believe in this strongly enough to not back away from it?

I have so many thoughts about this that I just can't really put into words, but feel free to build onto my ideas! <3

(also i had this drafted months ago but never posted it bcos life got in the way but im coming back to share this bcos i genuinely think this is huge :D)

[hlficlibrary]

✤ Exes Fics ✤

A series of posts with the top five fics of each category tag on ao3 by kudos plus five more hidden gems from that category! Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find our other recs here.

- Top 5 H/L Fics -

1️⃣ got the sunshine on my shoulders by @hattalove [E, 124k]

five years ago, harry styles left his tiny home town to make it big as a recording artist. he didn't have much regard for what he left behind - a life, a family, and a husband, who woke up one morning to find him gone.

now, harry has everything he could possibly want: he's rich, famous, and adored by everyone he meets, including his boyfriend. but when said boyfriend proposes to him, he's forced to face the uncomfortable facts of his past - and louis, who's spent the last five years returning every set of divorce papers harry sent him.

(or, an au based on the movie sweet home alabama.)

2️⃣ Mine Would Be You by @crinkle-eyed-boo [E, 114k]

Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.

Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

3️⃣ all the lights are full of colour by @infinitelymint [E, 26k]

So, fast-forwarding eight years from the day Harry met Louis, he is now a twenty-seven year old owner of one of the most up-and-coming eating establishments on the London restaurant scene, father of two wonderful boys and… separated from his husband. Now, that last part definitely was never a part of the original plan.

Or, Harry and Louis are separated, but for the sake of their two sons, they choose to spend Christmas together. It may just lead to a Christmas miracle.

4️⃣ The Shirt You Hate by @isthatyoularry [M, 15k]

“Soph,” Louis says to his female executive assistant. “I’m making more money than ever, and I have just realised that I have no one to spend it on.”

At thirty years old, Louis is past halfway to becoming a billionaire, and he needs to find the one. He literally stumbles upon his university sweetheart.

5️⃣ You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by lucythegoosey / @harryrainbows [E, 95k]

Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry.

Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk.

One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too.

Or: Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.

HIDDEN GEMS:

💎 Wait For It by dimpled_halo / @comebackassholes [E, 119k]

“You’re doing it again.” Zayn’s voice breaks him away from his thoughts.

Louis furrows his brows. “What?”

Zayn waves his hand around. “You’ve got that dreamy look on your face. You’re thinking about the future love of your life, again aren’t you?”

Zayn is staring at him in a way like he’s daring Louis to lie so he could call him out on it. Liam and Zayn can read him like a book, making it hard for Louis to keep anything from them. Instead of trying to lie, he resigns himself and lets out a breath.

“I am.”

A How I Met Your Mother au with a better ending. Louis is ready to find the love of his life and when he meets Harry he thinks he's finally found them. Liam and Zayn have been together since college and are ready to take the next step in their relationship, except Zayn might be having doubts. And Niall is happy with no strings attached dating until a new employee at the bar they frequent walks into his life and makes him question his entire existence.

💎 pull me back together again (the way you cut me in half) by 28sunflowers / @vintageumbroshirt [E, 26k]

When trying to figure out who the love of his life is, Harry’s brain brings back a specific name from his past.

That’s why, a decade after a messy divorce, Louis opens his door to find his ex-husband standing on the other side, asking for a second chance.

Or a This Is Us AU starring Harry as Kevin and Louis as Sophie, but I selectively choose to use only some parts of what's cannon on the show.

💎 Love Gone Wrong by wordsnnotes / @quelsentiment [T, 18k]

Years ago, Harry and Niall left their rural town for the big city, while their respective boyfriends Louis and Zayn stayed behind at the ranch. Louis and Harry start an on-and-off relationship, but Zayn and Niall break off all ties. When Louis gets into a fight with Harry, he enlists Zayn's help to make things right with him, thereby putting Zayn in Niall's path again, and giving all of them a chance to work things out and start anew.

💎 don't you call him baby by @femstyles [T, 8k]

But now, eleven months later, as his Uber pulls up outside the bar, Harry thinks he can absolutely handle this. He's going to walk into Liam's birthday party where the ex-love of his life is also going to be and he's going to show Louis that he can be a mature adult about everything that’s happened in the last year.

Or the one where Harry is absolutely doing fine and is definitely not still hung up on Louis. Except he is.

💎 'Tis the Damn Season by zanni_scaramouche / @zanniscaramouche [M, 2k]

The door will open and he’ll smile wide and genuine at the people who raised him, his teary-eyed mother and rosey-face step-father. He won’t think about the cabin in the woods again until next December.

[alpydk]

I had another one of the worst visits to the doctor today 😑

For one second I really had in my head "Where is Chase?" 😭

I was on the verge of making a House like fuss 😆😣

To my ask:

Do you have fluffy Chase headcanons in mind, where he is treating a patient good and comforting?

(Yeah I know who am I asking 😆🤣😋 But with Dr. Puppy eyes there has to be some comfort about him😁Just imagine I am a penitent nun, than he is extra nice 🤭😉 Sorry Daddy, punish me for I have sinned 😏 Wrong topic! Wrong topic! 😆🙈

But I am also always up for some angst...like having things in my head of Wilson seeing Amber in his final moments, greeting him, waiting for him...yeah...)

I'm sorry you had a rough appointment. I hope this brings you the smiles it brought me. I'm not the best at a headcanon, but I can do a short comfort fic 🫂 - My one thing is, Chase totally gets his hair back post divorce/s8. He still however pines from time to time.

Chase x You - Pure Fluff (like fucking candyfloss)

You’ve sat for some time in that small clinic room, your eyes strained from the florescent lighting, your head pounding from the many complaints outside the door. You knew the place would be busy, but you didn’t know to what extent when you sat down to see someone.

Now you waited for the doctor to come, the paper on the bed riding up under your jeans, your legs hanging off the edge as if you were some child. Doctors were never who you wanted to see, especially when they were like the last few. In their fifties, men whose education came from other men in their fifties. No understanding of what it was like to actually have struggles in either life or health. You sigh, expectantly.

The door is pushed open; you sit up straight ready to have your concerns ignored when he enters. Nowhere near the age you figured. Early thirties, you suspect, blonde, very good looking. Now your tension has become a furious blush in your cheeks as you explain your symptoms.

Robert Chase pulls up a chair and nestles himself in between your legs, placing warm hands under your chin and lifting your head slightly. He’s gentle, his hands soft. You notice he has no aftershave on, but the subtle aroma of saltwater drifts from his hair. His shampoo, or maybe a long-forgotten hobby, soaked into his pores? You don’t dare to ask, but the question doesn’t linger for long as you catch his gaze and realise the answer. The deep blue of his eyes glance into yours, endless seas you would happily swim out into. He gives the faintest smile, his hands brushing the skin of your neck as he pulls away. You suddenly feel cold.

He writes you a prescription, tells you to take it easy for a few days and call if you have any problems. His accent reminds of the old Steve Irwin videos you used to watch with your friends. It’s soothing in a way you don’t understand. You struggle to find your words to reply to him, but manage a whispered thank you.

Outside, the rain is coming down. You wait for your taxi, slowly becoming more and more drenched as the heavens open. You would stand under the portico, but it’s left clear for the emergency services. A gurney is rushed past, a young woman. You wonder what is wrong with her as the paramedics shield her from the rain.

“So, you come here often?”

The Australian accent draws you to your senses, a worthless pickup line that you’ve joked about but never had used on you before. You smirk. “Does that ever work?”

“First time for everything.”

He’s wrapped in a thin coat, his blonde hair becoming darker and sticking to his forehead with each raindrop that hits. You’re not sure when you agree to go to his apartment. It seems to happen so naturally as you find yourself walking to his car with him. He asks about you, what you do for a living, how long you’ve lived in New Jersey. Do you have any friends, family, a partner?

His apartment is what you expected of a young single doctor, more time spent at work than at home. There’s the odd creature comfort: a violin case stood against the wall, some aged video games in a stack by the TV. It’s not until you look closely that you see the hidden details: the photo frame face down on the cabinet, the medical journal under the leg of the coffee table keeping it stable. Rowan Chase? Any relation? You wonder.

“Got you a towel.” Robert brings it around your shoulders. Gone is his coat, leaving nothing but the wet shirt underneath. You know this is no longer professional care, but you don’t mind, swept up in whatever God’s plan is for the two of you.

“You have a nice apartment.”

“You should see the bedroom.”

He’s so quick to lure. How many of these lines have been used on others before you? How many others have there been? You’re drowning in those seas, but you don’t seem to care. Let the tide pull you away. Let him drag you down.

Suddenly he apologises, and you’re not sure why. Was it your silence at his remark? He offers you a drink, but you decline. The medication, you remind him. He nods, understanding, and places himself on the sofa, leaning his head back over the cushion. You sit next to him, seeing the façade of the strong doctor fade momentarily. You hesitate a moment, but place your hand on his knee, a warmth and comfort that you’ve both been seeking for so long.

He glances up, confused, a brief flash over his face where he considers rejecting the sensation, but then his arm comes around your shoulder, pulling you close. You lean into his body, taking in the seawater, letting it fill your lungs. You feel the warmth of his breath in your damp hair, the press of his lips on your forehead, on your nose, on your mouth, each softer and more meaningful than the last.

He doesn’t take it further. There is all the time in the world for that. Instead, he switches on a movie, holds you close in a way you’ve only ever dreamt of. You don’t realise you’ve fallen asleep until the next morning when you wake up, a cushion under your head, a blanket covering your shoulders. The scent of coffee fills the air, and you glance around, trying to catch your bearings.

Chase emerges from the kitchen, sweatpants shielding toned legs from your view, but a firm chest on display, skin you’ll run your fingers up, a scar you’ll learn about during lazy days in bed.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

He glows under the curious dawn that lazily comes through the window, his hair as golden as the coast you’ll surf with him one day, his eyes brighter than they ever were under chemical lighting. “Made you coffee.”

---

“These trials only test your faith to see whether or not it is strong and pure. Your faith is being tested, as fire tests gold and purifies it. ... And your faith is far more precious to the Lord than mere gold. So if your faith remains strong after being tested, it will bring you much praise and glory and honor on the day of his return.” – Chase S1 E5

[tomtenadia]

Stranded

Good evening all,

I while ago I posted a snippet of a fic I was planning. The idea came to me after watching a Netflix mini series called Jules storm (A Christmas storm) in English. in the series a group of people get stranded at Oslo airport after a bad snow storm. For this floc I took inspiration from two characters in the series. I was watching it and realised it was a perfect Rowaelin. Rowan is the grumpy pilot and Aelin is the one keeping him company.  They start as reluctant stranded passengers, until they realise the other is not too bad.

CW: it’s meant to be fluff but it has a smidge of angst and also mention of miscarriage.

I wrote a part 2 already and... if you want I might work on a further part 3 if anyone is interested.

The storm had been raging all through the night. An event that in Doranelle had been labelled as extraordinary. 

All morning all Aelin heard on the tv was the news of the incredible snowstorm that had hit the land. People in Wendlyn were not prepared or used to it. It was very likely that some of them had never seen snow in all of their existences. She, on the other hand, was Terrasen born and bred and learned to walk in heavy snow since she took her first steps.

And it was because of that snow that now she was walking to the subway station instead of taking a taxi to the airport. She was going home. For good. She was closing a chapter of her life that had left her depressed, hollow and with a divorce at the age of 28.

It had been three months since that horrible morning when she woke up in blood soaked sheets and the scary realisation that there was something wrong with her pregnancy. Her husband was not at home so she had called an ambulance and was rushed to the hospital while the dreadful realisation spread in her. It was not long after that the doctor had confirmed that she had lost her baby girl.

She felt broken and hollow and alone. Her husband Chaol had showed up in the evening and while she grieved he just stood and offered little comfort.

Aelin shut down and pushed the world away while Chaol was never at home. Until one day the truth. He had been cheating on her with his secretary.

As soon as she was able to face the world again, Aelin grabbed her resolve to get out of bed and get an appointment with a divorce lawyer. A week later she strolled in his office and served him the papers. On that same day she had bought a ticket home to Terrasen and called her parents with the good news. Rhoe and Evalin had been delighted. She needed healing and felt that with her parents was the place where to start. She knew her mother had suffered with pregnancies too and she was positive she’d be the best support she could have.

Aelin tucked those thoughts away and climbed the stairs down to the subway station. Luckily Doranelle had a direct line from the city centre to the airport. She doubted that buses would be able to cope in those road conditions. She had missed the snow, the cottoned silence, the smell.

The subway was packed and arrived at destination a good thirty minutes later.

As soon as she stepped in the airport compound she felt a pang of joy. She was going home.

But the weather had other plans for her.

*

Rowan stopped at the big airport windows and looked at the runaways covered in deep snow. The vehicles could not clean the tarmac quickly enough, that a new layer of snow was already down again. He sighed. He had taken a flight in that very same early morning from Antica and it had been a shitty approach. He had almost asked ATC to abort the landing, but then managed to take the plane safely down without too much drama. Rowan was about to leave the crew offices when his phone rang.

“Hey.”

Rowan listened to the voice on the other side.

“ATC closed it. Good.”

His brows furrowed at the next pause “What do you mean you want to keep me on standby? Nothing is fucking moving. Doranelle is not equipped to deal with this, it will take days.”

With his right hand he pinched the bridge of his nose in pure exasperation “Fine. You owe me one. I will go and be lazy in the First class lounge.”

He closed the call and stared for a few more minutes at the airport operations grinding to a halt. The storm had even grown in intensity and the visibility was now close to zero. 

He adjusted his uniform, grabbed his suitcase and walked to the lounge. Well, at least he had a big book that should last him for a while.

*

Aelin was  still in front of the huge departure board. All flights were cancelled. The recorded voice over the tannoy kept repeating that due to extreme whether all flights will be heavily affected, please contact the airline desk. She texted her parents to let them know that she was stuck in Doranelle due to the storm. Her father replied to stay safe and that they were looking forward to have her back.

She went to check-in anyway and got rid of her heavy luggage and the assistant told her that for now the airport was closed, but she was on the list for the next available. 

With a sigh she grabbed her backpack and stuffed her jacket under her arm and slowly walked to the customer service area as recommended and prepared herself for a very long wait on the airport’s chairs and numerous bored walks around the terminal.

*

Rowan made it to the lounge and greeted the assistants whom he knew already since he and the other pilots were regulars there when on stand down in between flights. 

“Hey Ro, stuck here?”

The woman was called Lyria and according to all of his colleagues she had a thing for him.

“Yeah, looks like we are in for a long one.” He scanned his staff badge and the barriers opened for him.

The room was packed and it looked like a lot of other people had the same idea. He finally spotted an empty table and with his long legs strode there and crashed on the comfy seats with a heavy sigh. From his suitcase he pulled out his book and went to the buffet to grab some orange juice and food. He was technically still on duty so strictly no alcohol. A shame. A beer would be a dream right now. 

Once back he deposited his bounty on the table and cracked open the book.

*

It took Aelin a good ten minutes to find the customer service desk. She was busy talking with the assistant when a tall blonde woman dropped her bag quite abruptly on the counter and pushed her aside.

“Put me on the next flight to Rifthold.”

“I am sorry ma’am, but the airport is closed and no one is going anywhere.”

The blonde woman took out her purse “I can pay, I have all the cards. Tell me a price and I will pay.”

Aelin stared at the customer assistant take a deep breath “I am sorry, but the weather does not take cards.”

The obnoxious woman grunted in annoyance “You must be one of those foreigners who stays here and don’t bother to learn the language, because you are not understanding me,” she slammed all the credit cards on the desk “Give me a ticket to Rifthold.”

The petite woman behind the desk pushed the cards away “I am sorry to disappoint you but I was born and bred in Doranelle and I can understand you perfectly.” Aelin noticed that her Wendlyn accent had become more pronounced almost as if on purpose “As I said, unless you have a direct line with the gods who control the weather, you are stuck like every other soul.”

The blonde woman took her cards back and stormed away.

“I am sorry, miss.”

Aelin shook her head and walked back to the counter “Don’t worry, you have held yourself very well. And nice touch on making your accent clear. That shut her up.”

The woman smiled “speaking of accents, you are not from here.”

Aelin gave her a timid smile “No, I am from Terrasen. Loved it here but it’s time to get home.”

The assistant started tapping on her computer “I should not really do this, but this is a shitty situation and I don’t care. Better you than her.” She passed a new ticket to Aelin “You are now upgraded to first class on your next flight which means you can enjoy the lounge. There’s food and it’s cozy.”

Aelin was speechless and almost hugged the woman “I…” words failed her “Thank you so very much. I hope the next customers will be much nicer to you. Than you, thank you.” She held the ticket closer to her heart and grabbed her stuff.

She could not believe it. 

Aelin was excited at going into the first class lounge. She always travelled economy and had no idea what lay behind those doors.

At the entrance she saw barriers and stopped, unaware of what to do.

“Scan the boarding pass,” said the brunette at the desk.

Aelin followed the instructions and the automatic gates opened and took a step inside.

*

Rowan had grabbed his headphones and was now relaxing in peace while snacking on hummus, pitta bread and other foods offered in the lounge. He was stuck and was definitely making the most of the situation. 

He was soo engrossed in his book that he did not notice the woman standing at his table and apparently talking to him.

*

Aelin stepped inside the lounge and was amazed. It was buzzing and at the centre there was a massive buffet table with what she discovered was free food. Technically complimentary, those people paid a first class fare, she didn’t and for an instant she felt like an intruder.

Without passing as too eager, she grabbed a tray and filled it with a few small dishes, then got a cup of coffee with a crazy amount of sugar as she liked it and started looking for a table.

The lounge was choc-a-block and there were no seats left. Getting into the first class lounge and then not finding a seat seemed like a cosmic joke. She wandered a bit until in a corner she spotted  a man with silver hair occupying a four seats table all by himself. The nerve. She noticed his uniform and that he was a pilot. Aelin took a deep breath and marched to him.

“Do you mind if I sit?”

Fine, he had headphones and was reading.

Aelin waved her hand “Hey?”

Pine green eyes stared at her. The most stunning green eyes she had ever seen. And a face that promised murder.

“What?” He growled as he pulled down the headphones.

“Can I sit? The lounge is very full.”

The man in front of her exhaled a deep annoyed breath and pulled down his legs from the chairs on the other side and went back listening to the music, reading and ignoring her.

*

Why? Wondered Rowan as the stranger sat opposite from him. Why some people thought it was acceptable to occupy a table that is already taken? The lounge was full. She could just go back to the terminal like all of the other passengers. He was a pilot and needed his down time.

Sneakily, he looked at her and she definitely did not belong there. She was probably flying first class on mum and dad’s money. Oh yes, she was the classic naive rich brat who goes around the world and never has worked a day in her life. The man in him though, could not fail to notice that she was stunning. Her hair was almost as gold and the eyes. They were piercing blue, with a ring of gold in them. Yes, she was annoying but he could not deny the facts. She was probably the most stunning woman he had ever seen.

Rowan was busy secretly staring at her that he did not notice that the woman was talking. To him apparently. Hellas, fate had given him a chatty table partner. 

“What?” Another growl.

“Is that Wendlyn airlines colours? Are you a pilot? You must be, you have the wings and the cuff-rings. Were you due to fly today?”

Rowan wondered how to murder her and how to make it look like an accident. He placed the book down, careful not to lose his spot and stared at her “Yes, princess. I am a pilot and now I am stuck here, trying to relax and I have this annoying woman ruining my day.”

Aelin glared at him “Mala save me, you are grumpy.”

In irritation, he straightened his back “I am grumpy? I landed this morning and I was due to finish. But then my boss asked me to be on standby because as soon as this hellish snowstorm is over I will have to fly out any poor irritating soul that has been stuck in this damned place.”

He was hoping that shut her up but the woman instead smiled at him “But you are taking these people home or on holiday or to work. You are helping them achieving their goal. And if they are going back home to their families, it’s a happy ending.”

Rowan’s mouth fell open in disbelief. Who was this woman? “I don’t care who these people are. For me they are a number on my manifest that I am safely carrying from A to B.”

“That’s a very cold way to see it.”

“I am sorry princess if I burst your bubble,” his tone now harsh “Next time fly with Unicorn airlines  and the captain will vomit rainbows once you land.”

Aelin grabbed her coffee and tried to ignore the comments.

“You better be a good pilot, because you are a shitty human being.” Aelin stood and stormed out of the lounge and found a quiet spot in a corner of the airport. She sat down and let the tears flow. She was so tired and felt lost. Her life had been put on hold. She had a plan a goal but then all came crashing down and in the past few months she had just existed. Aelin sniffled hard. That arsehole. As if a pretty uniform allowed him to treat people like garbage. She had been trying to find positivity in the small things to cope after her post miscarriage depression. Maybe she seemed naive to strangers but it had become her coping mechanism not to plunge in the abysm of desperation once again.

She sat in silence and let the tears flow until she was spent, then grabbed her stuff and started walking. Her experience in the first class lounge had been brief and ruined by the worst pilot in Wendlyn airlines.

Knowing that she had possibly many more hours ahead Aelin started walking back and forth in the terminal, noticing all the people who, just like her, were trying to pass the time.

Her feet took her again at the end of the terminal where all the lounges were. The first class had a window on the runaways and another right on the terminal. She looked up and noticed the table she had occupied before. What she was not expecting was the silver haired pilot staring at her from the big window.

*

Rowan had felt bad. Yes, she was a bit naive but he had been downright rude. Maybe he really had to start to keep his grumpiness at bay. He could not remove from his mind her dejected stare at his words. He had hurt her. Of that he had no doubt. He stood and went to window to stare at all the passengers walking around the terminal and thought about her words. Those people were not just a number on a manifest. He could see their smiles at the prospect of going on holiday or home, businessmen and women itching to get off to run to their meeting. The woman was right, there were stories behind those faces. But his job was to fly them safely to their destination and to keep his cool in a crisis. Having some sort of detachment made his life easier.

His eyes scanned the busy terminal until he spotted a mane of golden hair that attracted his attention. The woman stopped and looked up. Blue eyes stared right into his soul and in that instant his right hand took a life on its own and rose waving lightly in her direction.

He saw her eyes widen at the surprise and waved back, but no smile reached her eyes. A second later he was gesturing like a madman for her to come up.

Once she moved he ran to the bar and asked something to the bartender and once ready took it to the table and then walked to the entrance of the lounge and waited for her.

Behind him he could feel Lyria’s stare but he ignored her.

The woman arrived a few minutes later and scanned her boarding card to go back in.

Rowan pointed to the table and she followed.

“A peace offering,” he indicated the warm drink on the table “the bartender assured me it’s sugary and sweet.”

Aelin looked at the drink in front of her. It was a hot chocolate with cream, marshmallows and sprinkles of various colours and a few chocolate sticks popping out.

“That’s a drink you’d get on Unicorn airlines.”

Aelin chuckled lightly “I am Aelin by the way.”

“Captain arsehole, a.k.a Rowan.”

She took a sip of the drink and it was sweet just how she loved it and noticed he only had a black coffee “no hot chocolate for you?”

He waved his hand in a dismissive motion “nah, I will leave eating unicorn stuff to you.”

The smile he gave her was very faint and Aelin wondered how he’d look with a full smile.

“So, why the peace offering?”

He played with some of the olives on a small plate “I had no right to talk to you that way.”

Aelin took a sip as an excuse to gather her thoughts “I am not a princess, or a spoiled brat travelling with her parent’s money.”

A sharp air intake left Rowan’s lips.

“Yes, you had the face. You judged me as soon as I sat down and assumed that I was all of the above.”

He stared at her and once again he noticed that veil of sadness in her. He wanted to see her smile and lit up the room.

“Bad habit,” he chuckled “You know when you get off the plane and sometimes you have the captain there too telling you good bye?” He explained hoping to light the mood “Once the plane is empty, the crew and I love to comment on some of the passengers. Nothing cruel, sometimes is to destress after a long haul flight and have a laugh.”

Aelin gave him a weak smile “anything weird?”

“Once we were flying to Melisandre and one of my crew told me that this couple had their blankets all over them. They kept an eye on them, refused in-flight meals and then half way through the flight they got to the toilet one at a time. When they disembarked they were tomato red in their faces.”

Aelin burst out laughing “Holy shit, no.”

Rowan nodded solemnly “We have a feeling they went for another type of in flight entertainment.”

“Fuck, people can be so disgusting.”

“It was a good thing it was the last flight of the day. We managed to sanitise the seats heavily.”

Aelin munched on a chocolate stick “So, is being a pilot as trendy as it seems?”

Rowan went silent. He loved flying. He did a few years in the airforce and when he left he got easily a job as commercial pilot. He already had the training and a lot of flying hours. It had been an easy transition and less traumatic. But no, definitely it lacked all the romanticised aspects “It’s a job. I love flying.”

“But you can visit so many places.”

He snorted “On a short layover I have little time. If I fly domestic routes in Wendlyn it’s very much a back and forth.” He explained, playing with his spoon “Today I should have come off the Antica flight and got home and come back tomorrow to fly out to Melisandre.”

Aelin was silent.

“I don’t get to see much of the lands I visit. I put the plane down, there’s a lot of stuff to do, then I will probably have to go through customs, although crew has priority, and most of the time I go back to the hotel, eat and sleep.”

“That sucks,” she stuffed a marshmallow in her mouth “I love airports, the buzz and the excitement of a trip.”

Rowan rolled his eyes “you have seen one, you seen them all.”

Aelin shrugged and Rowan studied her reaction “How can you always be so positive?”

He stared at her face grow dark all of a sudden while staring outside the big window.

“To cope,” she said very, very quietly.

Rowan did not miss the pain in her voice. His hand slowly moved to hers and covered it gently. When he hard her sniffle he realised there was something hurting her. And for some reason, he felt the urge to comfort this stranger who had sat down at his table on a shitty day.

“Aelin…”

She brushed her face quickly and gave him a tired smile “sorry… I am fine.”

He stared at her. She was not fine.

“I know I am the last person to whom you want to bare your soul, but I am not as a bastard as I appear.”

Aelin broke. Heavy sob escaped her and her shoulders shook. All Rowan could do was to sit at her side and pull her face to his chest and hide her from the crowd.

“Your uniform will get wet.”

“Having beautiful women cry on you is part of the job.” He hoped that the cheesy line lifted her spirits a little.

“I am twenty eight and I am moving back to my parents because my life in Doranelle went to shit,” she sobbed hard “I am divorced and I was useless as a wife.”

Rowan felt the need to hold her tight “I doubt that.”

“While I was bleeding in bed after a miscarriage, my husband was busy fucking his secretary.”

Rowan did not know the man but all of a sudden he felt the need to smash his face.

“I lost our baby and…” her sobs intensified.

“I am so sorry, damn Aelin that… must have hurt.”

“I feel like a failure.”

Rowan pulled back and grabbed her face in his hands “No, I barely know you but you cannot call yourself a failure because you lost a baby and,” he paused “if your ex made you feel so, well it’s a good thing that the bastard is gone.”

“I am sorry…” she apologised “I just dumped all my troubles on you…”

He squeezed her “sometimes it feels nice to vent to a stranger or in our case to another stranded partner.”

That made her chuckle and he relaxed at the sound.

Rowan then stood and offered her a hand “Come.”

Aelin was not sure but then accepted and grabbed her backpack and jacket.                         

Rowan took her hand and they started walking. She followed him in silence until he stopped in front of the multi faith chapel. 

“Come.”

Aelin was puzzled and followed him inside. The room was beautiful with wooden walls and a big window.

“When it’s quite I like to come here and sit. It’s empty and I find it relaxing.”

There were wooden benches along the wall and he sat down, patting the spot at his side.

Aelin sat and closed her eyes. The place was silent and a sense of peace descended on her. She felt Rowan’s shoulder brushed hers and she inhaled his scent. Rowan smelled of pine and snow. He smelled like home.

“I am sorry I cried all over you.”

At her side Rowan sighed “I am sorry for how I treated you. I assumed things…”

“We both said horrible things.”

Rowan chuckled “We can start from scratch again.”

Aelin turned her head to him “Hi, I am Aelin.”

“Hi, I am Rowan.” They shook hands and then they fell back in silence for a moment.

Rowan turned his head to the window and stared at the snow. It was even worse “I don’t think we’ll fly today.”

*

They spent a few hours in the room and talked and Aelin could not believe how easy it was to talk to him. She learned he was born in Doranelle, that he had been in the airforce for a few years and then retired and joined Wendlyn airlines. He had confessed that he was not a fan of sugary stuff and Aelin had almost left him alone in the room. She would admit that he was a pleasant person to be around. 

When some people came into the room they left and Rowan gave her a tour of the airport but with a personal touch and from the perspective of someone who was in there multiple times a week.

In the end, they went back to the lounge and Rowan retrieved his suitcase from the bar staff and occupied a table with two comfy sofas at each side “Looks like we managed to find a much better spot,” Aelin smiled and sat down and looked at the window that now gave them a view of the runaway.

Rowan came back a bit later with food for both and a pitcher with orange juice “Hope this is okay.”

“Is the lounge staff staying here all night?”

He nodded “yes, staff for essential shops and lounges have been asked to stay open to help all the stranded passengers.”

Aelin took her food and they had dinner and chatted happily and got to know each other a little more.

*

The following morning Rowan woke up after falling asleep on the sofa. He had a lovely night with Aelin and realised she was nothing like he had pictured her. She was an editor and loved books just as much as him and they had talked for hours about their favourite authors. He had never felt that connected with anyone and it felt amazing. When she fell asleep he made sure to cover her with her coat and then stared at her sleeping. Her face peaceful in her slumber.

He went to grab some coffee and noticed that the sky was a deep blue and the snowstorm had cleared. The ploughs were busy scurrying around the airport and clearing near the hubs and the main runaways. That was a good sign. He took his phone and saw that he had been allocated a flight. It was the 14:00 hrs flight to Orynth. He smiled.

Back at the table Aelin was awake and was brushing the sleep off her eyes “Morning, princess, I bring coffee.” He then smiled “look outside.”

Aelin turned her head and squealed in delight when she noticed the sun and the blue sky.

Rowan had loved that sound and the smile that burst on her face.

“Are we flying?”

“Check your phone.”

Aelin quickly grabbed her mobile and noticed a notification from her airline telling her that she was booked on the 14:00 flight to Orynth.

“Yes, my flight is at 2 p.m.”

Rowan hid his smile behind the cup of coffee.

“What about you?”

“We’ll see.”

*

Aelin and Rowan had exchanged numbers before going separate ways. Somehow she wanted to stay in touch with him. He had promised her to text when he was in Orynth so she could be his guide.

Now she was finally at the gate ready to board her plane. Excitement was bubbling over her. After almost 24 hrs stuck in an airport she was ready to finally go home, but a pang of sadness hit her too.  She wished she had more time with Rowan.

Aelin took her seat and was giddy at being in first class. Crew brought her wine and Aelin indulged and treated herself. She heard the voice from the cockpit tell the crew to put the door on manual and cross check.

“Good afternoon, I am Rowan and I will be your captain for this flight to Orynth. We are expecting to push back in about twenty minutes as the ground crew is finishing to load your bags. Flight time is expected to be around three hours. We might encounter some turbulence over the Great Ocean and then it should be a smooth flight as far as Perranth. Current weather in Orynth is snowy, but the guys up there are more equipped than us to deal with a bit of white stuff. Local temperature is -10C which I am told is basically summer.”

Aelin giggled and the rest of the plane did the same. Rowan was taking her home and her heart raced madly.

“Now sit back and relax and let the crew look after you. I will give you updates as the flight progresses.”

“

It was three hours later when they finally landed. The flight had been bumpy, but nothing majorly scary. She had worse.

Aelin waited till everyone was off to stand from her seat. Rowan had popped out from the cockpit and was greeting the disembarking passengers.

She grabbed her belongings and walked towards the crew.

He gave her a smile.

“Thank you for the pleasant flight, captain.”

He winked at her and she exited the aircraft into the tunnel.

*

She was at home unpacking her suitcases when a text reached her.

I will be in Orynth for a few days. I have been given extra layover time since I was not meant to be on duty. I will need a guide. Someone told me there is a great coffee shop in the old part of the town.

Aelin smiled and texted back whoever told you that is a wise person. I need today with my parents. Can we do tomorrow?

I am on my way to my hotel to crash and sleep. I will be rested by then. Text me a time and I will find my way there.

Just be careful in the snow, you Wendlyn people cannot cope with our levels.

I will see you tomorrow, menace.

Aelin squealed in delight and in silence she thanked the weather for stranding her in airport.

TAGS:

@rowaelinismyotp​ @swankii-art-teacher​ @whimsicallyreading​ @elentiyawhitethorn​ @aelin-bitch-queen @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity  @mis-lil-red @thegreyj​ @sailorsassley @leiawritesstories​ @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire​ @sv0430 @heartless--aromantic @autumnbabylon @rowanaelinn​ @backtobl4ck​ @susumaus98  @gracie-rosee​ @mybloodrunsblue​ @tanvee1231 @avenrebekah @whoever-you-choose-to-love  @theywillnotsingforme @universallytreepost @black-daisy-water @goddess-aelin @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @lovely-dove-zee

[sugdenlovesdingle]

Hi! Just on "Danny doesn't like kissing guys anon" - I remember the interviews they are talking about and tbh in one of those he said it in a way that bothered me too! But then I realised that interview was at a time when Emmerdale didn't know what to do with Robron. I still remember during Liv's alcohol+Ketamine, they were making up after an argument and you could literally put a truck in between them!!

But we need to remember that this same Danny has said, not once but MANY times Robr-ON, Rob-OFF, I would like it to be on because I like kissing Ryan! In fact, some people started harassing him in real life for being gay when Robron was at its peak.

And it IS A FACT that Robron didn't do PDA until much later because they began as an affair and Robert in the closet. In fact, every time Charity or someone brought up sex between them two you will notice Robert making a face. Every single time. I always thought it was a brilliant acting choice by Ryan.

And they have been best friends even when they weren't boyfriends. In fact that was what 2017 Christmas was about! WHICH IS WHY canon Aaron now not rushing to IoW MAKES ZERO sense to me. I am willing to die on the hill that our Robron Aaron would have gone to IOW, fought with Robert, got him out, brought him back to the Mill but also punished him for sending those divorce papers.

Personally I don't want Danny to work on his chemistry with anyone because I am hoping against hope for a miracle.😂 Both Danny and Ryan are good actors. But there is a limit to which even a soap superstar can make a ridiculous situation believable at such short notice. On a separate note, Ryan still looks like Robert on Casualty, at least to most of us. It's like two complementary magnets🧲⚡that are being forced apart. Anything else will always look tame compared to them.

Current canon Aaron not rushing to the Isle of Wight is because Ryan won't come back as Robert. Aaron accepting Robert cutting him out of his life when he got sent down was because Ryan left.

They couldn't have Aaron mope around and wait for Robert or even fight for Robert - because there was no Robert because Ryan left.

And the robr-on rob-off and "i like kissing Ryan" was Danny being cheeky with the press (he knows how to play the game). I honestly don't think Danny gives a shit about kissing anyone on screen. I remember him kissing one of the hosts on loose women once just to prove screen kisses mean nothing/ are no big deal. I do think he was more comfortable with Ryan than he is with Oliver now (or was with Stephen as doctor boring or Simon as kayak bore) just because they worked together so closely for about 5 years and were good friends off screen too.

The best friends thing never bothered me tbh. Like I said, if your partner isn't also your best friend - someone you honestly like spending time with outside the bedroom... why are you together? Robron were (ARE) each other's great love AND best friend.

And emmerdale aren't great with PDA anyway. Matty and Amy's first kiss as husband and wife was maybe their third on screen kiss? Cain and Moira rarely kiss or touch because they're always fighting these days, Dawn and Billy - i don't remember the last time they kissed or even hugged (maybe when Evan was born?), Mack and Charity... had one incredibly forced (post) sex scene a few months ago and nothing since, Paddy and Mandy are getting MARRIED next week and they haven't kissed in months either (I think - i don't pay much attention to their scenes). If it's not relevant to the plot (like getting together, going public/taking a next big step in the relationship, marriage, affair) these characters don't touch/kiss. I think either Danny or someone else once mentioned that most of those things aren't scripted and it's basically up to the actors to decide "oh i think my character would kiss their partner here"

I'm not saying robron or emmerdale were/are perfect... god knows they weren't (and emmerdale itself definitely isn't these days) but come on, it's 2024, aren't we over the 'best friends' and "they don't touch" discourse by now? Or does anyone want to throw in the "bro hugs" too?

As for Ryan looking like Robert on casualty... he does but if Robert met Jamie, he'd get his shovel out again. We know what he does with rapists!

(I wanted to put a gif of Rob whacking lee over the head with the shovel but the gif search fails me once again - so just pretend it's here)

[sunjaesol]

#12 and #14 for the kiss prompts? :)

12. Sneaking away to a hidden corner to share a secretive kiss + 14. A kiss so desperate that the two wind around each other, refusing to let go until they are finished.

(secret dating + celeb au)

Her phone had been exploding by the time she woke up. Her personal phone, which meant personal issues, which meant her stomach churned with nausea before she drank her morning coffee.

Her alarm clock indicated it was seven am. Ten am in New York, her brain calculated, and she itched to text Luke about his morning. But if she grabbed her phone, she'd have to be confronted with whatever was going on.

Taking a steadying breath, she pushed herself upright, wiping a curl from her cheek, and unlocked her phone.

Shit.

Flynn sent her a link to a tabloid that broke the news, to which other publications quickly picked it up. Or rather: gossip. They had no actual news. Julie harrumphed. She hated the tabloids and those teenybopper papers; she knew it boosted her popularity, but she also wished they stopped existing altogether.

Luke and her hadn't even noticed the paparazzi, or fan, taking the picture. They had foolishly presumed no one cared about pedestrians in New York, so by extension, them as well. Luke lived bicoastal and rarely got approached on the East Coast.

But they pushed their luck.

The other texts were from her management, her P.A., her record label, Carlos, Carrie, Reggie, Alex, and Luke. She skipped all of them to reply to him first.

Luke: are you okay???

Julie smiled. Of course, he wanted to make sure she was okay first. She hadn't checked the comment section under the Teen Vogue post yet, but she imagined several were nasty towards her. Luke Patterson was the sexy golden boy after all, the one that revived punk and headlined festivals all summer long.

Not that she wasn't talented, too. Julie was just... quieter, she supposed, a presence felt but not as boisterous as Sunset Curve. Pop ballads were her forte.

She texted a response. yeah, i'm fine. surprised though. i didn't realise we were being watched. how are you feeling?

He read it immediately and replied. kinda relieved?? is that bad to say??? i wanna show you off jules

The singer rolled her eyes. It was no secret that Luke fell first and harder for her, which showed in all his actions. Deeply physically affectionate, always showering her in compliments and hyping her up, and saying stuff like this: wanting to show her off. It sounded so boyish.

A public relationship was the last thing she wanted, however. It never ended well. So many celebrity couples broke up, or got divorced, while in the public eye and indirectly forced fans to pick a side when it was none of their business. She wasn't intending on breaking up with Luke any time soon, but she didn't want to entertain the public's fantasy in the first place.

This photo wasn't helping.

Albeit not incriminating - they were just talking - it did add to the pattern people were noticing between them. Both were 'single', conventionally attractive, around the same age and in the same industry. It made sense. Stranger assumptions have been created.

Luke sent another text. i'm back in la tonight. catch up tmw morning?

Logically, she should say no and wait for the rumour to die down. In reality, she wanted to see him all the time, and so she agreed and sent a cute selfie with a thumbs up.

~*~*~*~

She noticed him immediately. A twill hat, sunglasses, a vintage t-shirt and cargo pants, hopping on his heels while he waited for her outside a brunch spot. Julie willed herself to not speed up and grab someone's attention, keeping her face in check when he caught her eye.

"Hey- oh!"

Luke snatched her hand and dragged her into an alleyway in between the brunch place and a laundromat. Grinning, he got rid of his glasses and swooped down to kiss.

Julie gently clasped his cheek, enjoying the moment. Yesterday, she was so afraid everything was ruined, their careers and their relationship. Now the kiss stilled her thoughts.

"Hey," he exhaled. "You look nice."

The compliment widened her smile. "Thank you."

Luke and Julie met at the afterparty of an award show. She had won Best Pop Album and his band won Best Alternative Music Album. The entire night, they drank champagne and giggled about the weird sides of the music industry, lamenting about snobby producers and reminiscing the greatest venues. They exchanged numbers and the rest was history.

He just got her, in a way no else did. Though he had a totally different personality, they shared the same norms and values. She was, like, kind of in love with him. A perfect smile did that to a girl.

"How was the rest of your trip?" she asked.

His mouth twitched, gazing at her in that overwhelming, fond way. "I missed you. The boys are so done with me."

Julie laughed. "I can imagine. And I missed you, too."

The hands on her waist tightened. "Explain to me again why no one can know?"

"It's not that 'no one' can know. Everyone in our close circle knows. I just don't want the public to put their noses in our business. But... I didn't think it would be this hard." Her eyes averted to the dirty asphalt. Even their shoes matched. "I don't... I don't want you to feel like I'm ashamed of you, or something."

An incredulous chuckle left his lips. "Jules, the only thing I'm feeling is luck, okay? Trust me. You-" He paused. She looked up to find him struggling with his words. That never happened.

"Luke?"

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," he rushed out.

Oh. That was kind of like a love confession, wasn't it? Before she second-guessed herself, Julie threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, hard, humming in delight when he responded just as intensely. His thumbs pressed in her hipbones, raking down her bum and up her spine. It felt desperate. More than a 'hello' or 'goodbye' kiss. It felt like a promise. And they refused to let go of it.

His mouth was hot against hers. Ragged breaths shared when they separated for split seconds before chasing the other again. With Luke's back pressed against the brick wall, she felt powerful, and wanted, and happy.

This was insane, making out like this in an shadowy alleyway in broad daylight, but she couldn't find it within herself to care. Because he was one of the best things that has happened to her as well. She got it now. The thought of someone else shooting their shot with Luke made her ill, to the point that hard-launching Luke on her socials just once to get it over with sounded rather appealing.

Damn it.

Pressing her hands into his shoulders, she let go and took a deep breath. Luke stared at her, dazed and puffy-lipped, with messy hair. She felt like a frenzied high schooler that just made out for the first time.

"Um," she trailed, blinking, "let's... let's go eat."

He shook his head with a laugh. "Yeah, sure." Luke placed the sunglasses back on his head and went to move back into the daylight, but Julie grabbed his bicep before he could.

"And after," she added, nervous, "I'll... announce our relationship on my socials. Because you're really important to me, too."

~*~*~*~

send me a kiss prompt for juke

[kisarastrife]

I read the newest chapter of paper roses and I loved it! Well done! What I adored most was that Isonso/Roland was included in the museum part cause he's Kaiba's confidant so it made perfect sense.

Yasssss!!!!

Thanks soooooo much for this message my dear!

That was what I was aiming for. See, I reckon Roland is Seto's father's figure. He's been the one truly steadfast and immovable person in his life for so long. A moral compass, if you will.

In my own headcanon, I believe that Roland would try to tell Seto when he thinks his employer is being unreasonable or doing something dangerous. Roland cares about this kid he saw Gozaburo abuse for so long. In Paper Roses I've alluded to it numerous times, but I don't know if my own entire backstory will ever be explained plainly in-fic, so here it is for anyone who's interested.

Seto underwent physical abuse from his stepfather and it was an amalgamation of mansion's staff who tried mitigate it. Kiku and Izumi (the one with the green jade dragon hair-slide), the two longest-serving of the maids, would quickly get little-Mokuba away from Gozaburo when he was in a foul mood or when he was taking it out on Mokuba. And they would distract the child and help keep him safe. Kiku would distract little-Mokuba and Izumi would try her best to calm Gozaburo; she had been close friends with his wife before their divorce.

It was Roland who tried to help Seto. He and Rin saw the abuse in plain view. Roland taught Seto how to defend himself and he once intervened between Gozaburo and young-Seto, which resulted in Gozaburo removing him from the mansion and posting him permanently to the KaibaCorp building. During one fit of rage, Gozaburo struck Seto, which resulted in him falling down the stairs and broke his collarbone. This is the scare that Kisara asks him about. Rin wants to call an ambulance, but Gozaburo refuses, which results in a stand-off of sorts. The fiery woman threatens to call the police if the child isn't brought for medical attention. Gozaburo gives in all of it quietened of course, but Rin is fired. Seto uses the skills Roland taught him to gain the upper hand in an altercation and sends Gozaburo sprawling on the ground; Roland is the one who ignited a love of Judo in Seto. (In the Kaiba Grand Prix arc, the screen of Zigfried's laptop shows that Seto was trialed by soccer scouts and was a world Judo champion).

When Gozaburo decides to jump out the window (the option I choose to believe for Paper Roses), Roland is the first to get to Seto and protects the teenager. He's with him throughout Death-T and never once holds a grudge against him. If you look at the ages of his children in Paper Roses, he and his wife have children only when Gozaburo has died. He could only devote himself to his own family when he knew Seto was safe.

Roland was there throughout all of the arcs, never balking even once. Fuguta too, but just not as visible as Roland.

So it made sense for Roland to be there for this oh so important moment for Seto. It's a huge moment for Kisara too, but it's more important that she's there on her own two feet and deciding to venture into the truth. Whereas Seto is the opposite; he's learning how to not be there alone, to allow someone else into the truth he's known and hidden for too long.

This moment is equally important for Roland who has stood by Seto for so long; the chance for him to realise his charge/employer has learned to allow people beside Mokuba in, but to also understand the happening beyond his control and understanding in terms of Egypt. That Kisara and Seto were always supposed to find each other. That this small kernel of a family need him to protect them as best he can.

Anyways ... /end rant lecture.

[elpickett]

Blood Runs Red

a tommy miller fic where he's the more broken miller brother

Tomás Alejandro Casillas Miller had grown up well acquainted with blood: his own, Joel's, his mother's. The apocalypse hadn't changed much in that regard.

***********************************************

Rating: T

Warnings: references to Joel's suicide attempt and child loss

Relationships: Tommy / Maria, Tommy & Joel, Tommy & Sarah, Tommy & Ellie

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51550372

**********************************************

Full fic under the cut if you'd rather read things here

Tomás Alejandro Casillas Miller had grown up well acquainted with blood.

His grandfather's blood soaking the living room floor, making his parents flee their home to the USA when he was a toddler, moving to a different continent, to a country where they didn't speak the language, all to try and protect him and Joel. Tommy had never told his mother the way the blood seeping into their couch back in Chile had haunted his dreams for as long as he could remember, that it was his only memory of the home they'd left behind.

His mother's blood, loosened from her body by his father's fist when he'd had too much to drink, which had turned into his and Joel's blood by the time he was eight. He still had the scar on his arm from when the bone had gone clear through his skin when he was ten. He'd told Maria he'd been skateboarding when she'd first run her fingers over the raised mark, reminding her that 'scars are sexy, darlin',' not wanting to think too hard about how it had actually come about.

And then his father's blood, ripped from his body by a car a few short months after the broken arm (he'd often thought of the irony of his father killed by a drunk driver whilst almost definitely drink driving at the same time in a particularly nihilistic period he'd had as a teenager).

All of Joel's blood spilt trying to protect Tommy from bullies who made fun of his accent, his hair, the way he dressed. He'd switched to using Tommy then, deciding it wasn't worth Joel's blood to continue insisting that others called him Tomás. Deciding it wasn't worth more blood, even if it made him feel like a part of him was quietly dying, shedding the skin he'd grown up in.

Julia's blood, dripping down her face when she'd shown up at the Miller house when Tommy was 13, barely able to mutter the words 'I'm pregnant' to Joel before collapsing in a heap on their porch. It'd be another week until his mother had asked when Julia was going home before Julia managed to explain that she wasn't welcome at her parents' house anymore, to which his mother had pulled her into a tight hug and said she'd always wanted a daughter anyway. He'd thought it was odd then, seeing the tears drip down Joel's face as he realised he'd be a father before his nineteenth birthday, that his girlfriend (and that was a generous description of their relationship) would be living with them for the foreseeable future, that the liquid dripping down Joel's cheeks was clear and not the scarlet he had come to know so well.

The blood in the hospital room the first time he met his niece, fourteen and awkward with too long limbs, suddenly realising just how different it was going to be going forward. He'd cried then, too, realising his whole world had just realigned itself to orbit this little girl's life, and swore into her hair (already darker than his and Joel's, the curl pattern tighter) that the colour she would grow most used to wouldn't be the red he saw whenever he shut his eyes. It was a surprise to Tommy when Julia left without blood two years later, leaving behind only already signed divorce papers, an orange post note with the words 'I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry' scribbled in purple pen. It had been easier to help Joel with his bloodied knuckles than it had been to hold Sarah, sobbing her eyes out because her mother hadn't come to tuck her in at bedtime.

His own blood, then, was all he saw for the next three and a half years, getting into dumb fights at school, Joel's sighs ringing loud in his ears as he sat in the Principal's office and assured him that yes, he was Tommy's guardian (despite not being old enough to buy a beer, but it was better Joel went in to school to get him than their mother, who'd never quite managed to wrap her tongue around English), and yes, he would make sure that it didn't happen again. (It happened again). (And again). (And again).

And then the desert, the yellow sand turning a dirty rust colour from all the blood soaking into it. Tommy Miller was well accustomed to blood, yes, but he was used to it belonging to those he knew. Now everyone's blood mixed together, impossible to tell who it came from. Not that it mattered, he came to realise. The other American soldiers, those they were fighting, they all bled the same. And bleed they did. By the time Tommy came back to the US, nineteen, a veteran of Desert Storm and having seen the world in a way he had begun to think may have not been the best manner in which to do so, his hands were stained blood red whenever he looked at them. It took Sarah (four, almost almost five, so tiny and perfect and sweet, nothing like him or her grandfather or Julia, all Joel) twenty minutes to talk him down from scrubbing his hands raw when he babysat her while Joel was working late one evening, before he admitted to himself that he couldn't go on the way he was. He went back home to his tiny apartment, poured himself two fingers of the shitty whiskey he'd stolen from Joel's cupboard as payment for babysitting, and then called the therapist an army friend had given him.

The therapist never quite understood that the flashbacks and the nightmares and the dread sitting heavy in the pit of his stomach weren't from the blood, but from the fact he couldn't tell who's blood it was.

And then, again, his mother's blood. Cancer was never pretty, but Dios, was it awful. Isabella Casillas (she'd never taken her husband's name, her one act of rebellion against a husband who'd taken everything else from her) got the news from the doctor on a Tuesday, two weeks after Tommy had seen the blood she coughed into a handkerchief and she had told him it'd been happening for a while already. 'No quieres que os preocupéis' and 'necesitáis enfocar en mi nieta, estoy bien' were her repeated refrains as he and Joel hovered around the hospital bed, a six year old Sarah not fully understanding why all her free time was suddenly being spent in the hospital, but understanding the look on her father and uncle's faces. She didn't go quietly in the end, choking on the red until she slipped away. The red roses a neighbour brought over for him and Joel with a quiet 'I'm sorry for your loss' only reminded him of everything he'd lost, the colour matching the blood seeping from his palm after he'd dropped a glass and cut himself trying to pick up the pieces.

Tommy's next few years were spent working too long hours and helping Joel raise his daughter, and god, it terrified him, realising how much he could fuck her up. For all Joel's panic about not knowing what he was doing, Tommy knew he'd be fine. Joel had practically raised him, after all. He knew how to look after a child. Tommy, on the other hand, had no idea what he was doing. So he settled down (mostly), spending his free time with his niece, cleaning grazed knees from astroburn, a cut on her hand from when she tried to cook and the knife slipped. He always handled Sarah getting hurt better than Joel, too used to the way blood stained carpet and clung on under fingernails. Joel just panicked whenever his daughter was in a less than perfect state.

By the time Sarah was fourteen, Tommy had got his life mostly sorted. He still drank slightly too much, still had a tendency to go for women who he shouldn't (in his defence, she'd taken the wedding ring off before going to the bar), still tended to solve problems with his fists rather than his words. But he also had a stable job, the contracting firm he and Joel ran finally up and running mostly functionally, his own flat (not that he spent much time there), friends, and his niece. He and Sarah had always blurred the lines between being uncle and niece and siblings, Joel having raised them both in all the ways that mattered.

And then, the end of the world.

The blood flooding the jail cell as one of the other people in lockup suddenly went crazy, snarling and biting, before one of the cops finally stepped in with a bullet to the head.

The blood painting the road red as he and Joel tried desperately to get back home to Sarah, to make sure she wasn't the next person to spill their blood that night.

Sarah's blood, gushing over Joel, who was still clutching his daughter to his chest, as Tommy lifted the rifle a fraction of a second too slow to save his niece.

And Tommy saw, then, the moment Joel shattered, holding his daughter, suddenly unable to do anything. Tommy realised, in that moment, that while he'd always known the sight and smell of blood, Joel hadn't. Joel had somehow not become used to it, and had avoided the subtle comfort it gave Tommy. So Tommy watched his brother shatter in pieces, and could only stand there and think how he was a moment too slow in getting the soldiers blood to spill. A moment too slow to save his niece, the girl he'd helped Joel raise since he was still a kid himself. A moment too slow in stopping his brother becoming like him.

And then, two days later, after he'd finally persuaded Joel to bury Sarah under an old oak tree, Joel's blood, leaking from the head wound as Tommy found his brother, pistol still clutched in his hand, begging Joel to stay with him. Tommy realised, looking at Joel in that moment, that Joel had got used to blood, and decided to add his own to the river. And god, if that didn't hurt Tommy, who had watched blood spilt and never wanted more, but who had never purposely added his own to any serious degree.

In the years that followed, Tommy watched his brother become well acquainted with blood. Watched as his brother went from being kind, being patient to someone else, to someone who lived for the violence that the end of the world had brought. Tommy watched as he failed to stop Joel from turning into what he'd been since a child, since the first time he watched someone's life fade from their eyes as their life seeped out with their blood.

Soon, though, the blood stopped coming from Joel, from Tommy, became everyone else's. The Miller brothers gained a reputation as people who would do what was necessary to survive, to spill blood even when there was probably another way. It wasn't until later, much later, that Tommy looked back and realised Joel had done what he did to try and protect Tommy as best he could, to stop Tommy shattering the way he had the night he lost Sarah. What he'd missed was that Tommy had broken a long time before the end of the world.

It wasn't a surprise, really, that Tess entered their life in a flurry of red. Tommy and Joel had joined up with a larger group a year into the end of the world. They'd been heading vaguely north, following rumours that the infected were less active where it was colder, that the slowly appearing QZs were easier to slip in and out of then the QZs further south. Tommy and Joel had discovered that smuggling was an easy way to make ends meet, enough things still in houses that they didn't need to use threats of or actual violence too often. They met Tess by selling to her group - mainly ammo, some spices, some medication. She was the one to suggest they join up with their group, make use of the strength that came in numbers. Tommy had tripped over himself saying yes, dragging Joel along with him, seeing in Tess' eyes the same look that his won often had: not the haunted, emptiness of Joel's, but the resignation of someone who knew the world may have ended, but it wasn't that much worse than the world before. It was a disappointment but not a surprise to him when Tess called things off a few weeks into whatever was blossoming between them, the mirror they held up to each other showing something that neither of them wanted to look too close at. He knew he'd have called it off soon enough if she hadn't. It was even less of a surprise when he saw her slipping out of Joel's bed a few weeks later, because while Joel might make her his new purpose, his new reason for living (and Tommy tried not to be hurt by that, that he wasn't reason enough), at least Joel was the kind of broken that would hold Tess up rather than pulling her down to the ground with him as Tommy knew he would've done. And if Tommy had to clean blood off his knuckles several times over the next few weeks, if he was a little more willing to take the jobs that would inevitably end up in a hand to hand fight, well that wasn't anybody's business but his own.

By the time they got to Boston, four years later, the plans for Tess to get a flat and Tommy and Joel to share a second had morphed, quietly, into a 1 bed for Joel and Tess and a room in a shared flat for Tommy with a few of the other people they'd arrived with. They'd offered for him to share a flat with them, but he'd turned down the offer claiming he wanted independence (well, Joel had asked him to share, to which Tess had rolled her eyes and told him that if he wanted his brother involved in their sex life, then Joel should just invite Tommy into the bedroom and get on with it. Joel had frozen, not knowing how to respond, Tommy had mimed throwing up, and Tess had rolled her eyes as though her and Joel hadn't been fucking where Tommy could hear, and sometimes see, them for the last four years).

It became clear to Tommy in Boston that he and Joel had dealt with shattering very differently. Tommy was used to blood, it had always taken up a large portion of his life, but he had learnt to survive and to live despite it. He might be broken into a million shards of himself, each reflecting back a different facet of his life, but he could still function. He could pick up enough shards at once to deal with life in the apocalypse. He could smuggle with Joel and Tess and deal with the blood and also try to help people. He smuggled a lot of medicine at low prices to those who needed it in Boston, and made sure information got to the right people. He roughed up or quietly took care of FEDRA soldiers who'd gotten a little too fond of power. If there was going to be blood, he'd at least make sure it belonged to people who deserved it.

Joel however, had no idea how to handle all his shattered parts, had no idea how to function. Since losing Sarah he'd been completely adrift, smuggling only because it was a significantly easier (for some sense of the word) existence than staying in a QZ, or at least an existence with easy access to the drugs and alcohol Joel seemingly needed to function. He worked with Tess and Tommy by being the muscle, by letting Tess direct him with what to do, who's blood to spill, when and where. Joel had long since given up on the world, on trying to hold it together. It had taken his daughter from him, and for Joel, Sarah had always been his entire world. Tommy wandered sometimes if Joel even noticed the end of the world, so caught up with his grief.

Six months into Boston, Tommy met Marlene when she hired the Miller brothers and Tess to smuggle in ammunition for her fireflies. Marlene, with her whip smart mouth and her plans to try to make something good out of the end of the world. Marlene who'd definitely known Tess before (in the biblical sense of known), though neither of them had ever said anything aloud. Tommy knew what looking at an ex looked like though, he could read between the lines. Marlene with her belief that they could start fixing what FEDRA had ruined. Boston was a relatively good QZ, as they went, but FEDRA had started public executions shortly after Tommy had arrived in Boston, and it was always going to be downhill from there. Marlene had looked in Tommy's eyes, seen something just as broken as the world, and offered him a way to try and make it better. And sure, maybe Tommy didn't agree with all her methods, but when had anything ever been achieved without the loss of blood.

Six months after that, two days after a screaming match with Joel that still left him reeling, Tommy left Boston for the final time. He made sure to leave a note for Tess with details of how to get a message to him, hoping he hadn't wrecked whatever was between her and his brother by bringing up Sarah in front of Tess for the first time. Joel may have lost a daughter, but Tommy had lost the centre of his world too, and then had to watch as his brother slipped away too. Joel had never been the same after Tommy found him with blood running down his temple, had stopped being the brother Tommy had grown up with, who'd take hits so Tommy didn't. Stopped being the brother Tommy had watched pull double shifts to make sure he could cover the rent who'd go home to Sarah and help with homework even when what Joel really wanted was a whiskey and to fall straight into bed.

And so, six years after the world ended, Tommy left his brother, the only reminder of Joel the blood drying on his knuckles.

The next five years were a blur for Tommy when he looked back, a string of memories of camping in shitty, burnt out buildings, skirmishes with FEDRA, getting back into being a sniper. He'd always been good with a rifle, had some experience before Desert Storm and had come back even more comfortable with one, but over his years with the fireflies he became one of their best snipers, and saw a lot of the US he hadn't managed before. By the end of it, however, he was actively seeking a way out, somewhere to go that wasn't another QZ. Somewhere that he could do something other than cause more blood to be spilled, whether it was infected or FEDRAs or civilians who got caught in the way.

Tommy wandered, and in time, he wandered back to Austin. Back to the grave he'd somehow managed to find again, where he'd buried his niece and his brother. Back to Joel's house, mostly picked through by raiders, but who'd left the photo albums mostly intact. He took his favourites, and a leather jacket he'd spent too much money on in his twenties, and he kept wandering, heading vaguely north.

And then, Maria.

Maria, with her bright eyes and wary smile, cautious as to what he wanted (peace, to be able to sit down at a table to eat, to be able to breathe), but nevertheless willing to let him enter Jackson on probation.

Maria, with her hair piled atop her head as she laughed in the Tipsy Bison, hand curled loosely around a beer, who Tommy knew had lost a child of her own, but who still knelt down to talk to the children of Jackson when they wanted to ask questions about chickens and school lunches and what it was like before the world ended, while he flinched when one of the children walked too close to him on their way to school.

Maria, with her gentle questions as they sat on her porch swing in the evenings throughout the year, even when it was definitely too cold to be doing so, who never looked at him differently even when he confessed to everything he'd done, who simply asked him if he wanted to be taken off the patrol rota so he could focus on building things, who understood his choked ‘no’, who accepted that he needed to fight to feel like he was still breathing, still alive.

Maria, radiant in a pale yellow dress borrowed from one of the other women in Jackson, a bouquet of wildflowers in her hands, wearing a gold ring on her left hand that he'd placed there with shaking hands. Maria, his wife, who he couldn't imagine life without, who he'd never thought would consider him anything more than someone to warm her bed. Maria, laughing and smiling as he taught her to line dance how he used to do in Texas, shuddering as he whispered what he wanted to do to her in her ear in quiet, whispered Spanish until she dragged him out of their own wedding party and back to their house.

Maria, lying languid and naked in their bed, running her fingers over each and every one of his scars, kissing them each in turn as Tommy explained where he'd gotten them, before turning paler than he'd ever seen her and running into their bathroom to throw up her dinner, Tommy following close behind to pull her hair out of her face and rub her back. By three weeks later of her throwing up without anyone else getting sick, and her period not making its regularly scheduled appearance, she quietly whispered ‘I'm pregnant’ into his neck one night, and Tommy just held her tightly as she sobbed herself to sleep, tears dripping down his face as thought of the little girl he'd help raise when he was just a kid himself. It's not that they'd been trying to avoid this outcome, they just also weren't trying specifically for it, not sure how feasible it was given Maria was already in her late forties. It just turned out there was a huge difference between ‘I like the idea of having a child with you’ and ‘I’m having another child and that feels like a betrayal to their older siblings they'd never know’.

The following day, he found a large piece of slate and carefully wrote out Sarah and Kevin's names, the day they had entered their families’ lives, and the day they left them. When Maria saw it on the mantelpiece, arriving home from a council meeting, exhausted and dizzy from a complete inability to hold any food down, she had let one lone tear track down her cheek before looking her husband in the eye, stepping into his waiting arms, and saying, quiet and hesitant, less confident than Tommy had ever seen her, ‘I can't wait to be a mother again with you’.

Tommy kissed her forehead, and then her lips, and then down her neck, before scooping her up in his arms and carrying her through to the bedroom. When they were done, panting and sated, he'd kissed her stomach, traced each stretch mark with his fingers, and confessed he couldn't wait to be a parent either. Thankfully the nausea passed soon enough (long enough to freak Tommy out, Julia having only thrown up a few times in her whole pregnancy, but not long enough to slow Maria down, having spent her first pregnancy throwing up at all hours of the day and night until she was seven months pregnant), and she could go back to work, back to what made her happy.

Four months later, Joel and Ellie arrived in Jackson.

Maria had always known that Tommy was contacting Joel, and had actively found ways for him to get messages back to Boston. Had handled the situation with more delicacy and diplomacy than Tommy thought he ever could have, torn as he was between desperately missing his brother, and not thinking he could handle one more minute in this new Joel's presence. She'd encouraged Tommy to keep in contact, quietly changing his patrol shifts to go past the radio tower if he hadn't managed to get there recently enough. Since the wedding though, she'd stopped checking that Tommy was still talking to Joel. And Tommy had used that to leave longer and longer periods between his messages, terrified that one day their would be a response, a message saying ‘I need you here. Come back to Boston’, that he might have to leave the sanctuary he'd found. He'd never revealed anything about Jackson, had followed the town’s rules carefully (if you want family or friends to join you here, they agree to leave where they are before they get told anything at all, and even then, riders from Jackson would meet them at the Colorado border before they got full details of Jackson's existence), but he'd also never told Joel he was somewhere good, somewhere safe, somewhere that the broken prices of him seemed to fit back together in a way they never had before.

As it turned out, however, Maria was under the impression that Joel wasn't already with them in Jackson because he or Tess didn't want to leave Boston, not because he didn't know about Jackson. Not because Joel didn't know about her, his sister in law, the family they could've had. Tommy watched Maria as she and Tommy walked to the dining hall to get some food for Joel and Ellie, confused at her coldness when Ellie revealed herself as a QZ kid through and through, so different from the children that had grown up in the safety of Jackson. It wasn't until Tommy got back from the bar with Joel and saw Maria standing on the porch waiting for him that he understood the gravity of what was happening: he had accidentally made his wife and brother hate each other.

Tommy hadn't understood Maria's distrust of Joel, not until she explained that she had trusted his decision on Joel, and while she was irritated he hadn't told her he was barely calling back to Boston, she could handle that. What she couldn't handle, though, was that Tommy brought someone dangerous into their home. If Tommy had cut his own brother off, when family was all Tommy lived and breathed for, then she had assumed there was a good reason. A reason that it wasn't safe for her, for Jackson, to meet Joel; that Tommy had made a call based on what was best for everyone. Tommy had frozen, a lump thick in his throat, before he pulled his wife into his arms and explained that Joel wasn’t a threat any more than he was. Capable of violence, yes, but not without reason.

It wasn't until he spoke to Joel later, in the cobblers, that he realised why Joel thought Maria hated him, why he disliked the woman who made Tommy feel closer to a whole person than he ever remembered being before. Namely, Joel thought that Maria hated him for what he made Tommy do all those years, as though violence hadn't been a language Tommy had known for far longer than Joel had. Tommy’s problem with Joel had never been his methods, or the ease with which he used his body to hurt others, or the unflinching loyalty to him and Tess that had made Joel put them above everyone else left in the world. Tommy had done all the same things, made the decision to keep on like that even when they could've avoided it. Hell, Tommy had joined the fireflies, and they weren't exactly bastions of peace and limiting civilian casualties. Tommy had left Joel because he couldn't watch it all be for nothing, couldn't watch his brother die a little more each day, only Tess propping him up.

It was watching Joel have a panic attack over not being able to protect Ellie that made Tommy realise his brother was back again, the brother he'd buried with Sarah. The brother who'd cleaned his knuckles with a wet rag, called him Tomás, helped him sneak back into their home drunk and high so their mother didn't panic, waiting until she was out to yell at him. The brother he thought he'd lost, back thanks to Ellie.

Ellie, who swore and palmed her switchblade in her pocket and demanded her gun back, who was all broken pieces too, desperate to make something of her life, desperate for all the death and pain and loss not to be for nothing.

Ellie, who might be the cure to everything.

Ellie, who, if Tommy knew one thing about the Fireflies, would be dead within a month at best if they got hold of her.

Ellie, who was well on her way to becoming his niece.

Ellie, who Joel wanted him to take to the base in Colorado (not that they were still there, a small voice in the back of his head said, reminding him the scientists were moving out to Salt Lake City).

Ellie, who he was absolutely not taking to Colorado, or Salt Lake, or anywhere other than to the house across the road from his and to a warm bed and clothes that fit properly and the best damn childhood anyone could have given they were living through the end of the world.

Ellie, who had helped Joel pick up his broken pieces, and maybe, finally learn to live with them, to hold enough at once to live life despite them.

The reality was, Tommy thought, that blood was full of everyone's lives now. He'd just had a head start on seeing the crimson every time he shut his eyes, a preview of what the world would be. What that meant, though, was that he'd also had a head start on learning how to pick himself up again, to learn to live again.

And in Jackson, with his wife, and child, and brother, and niece, maybe everyone else could try catching up to him for once. Maybe he could teach them. Maybe, he could make it all worth it. (Maybe, one day, he could make Ellie see it could be worth living for too).

***********************************************

End author notes!

and now Tommy gets to be an uncle again and make Joel go insane about the shit he and Ellie pull. Also Ellie definitely doesn't end up with the fireflies because genuinely why the fuck would you take the one immune person in the world and immediately try and kill them I may not be a biologist but that I am a scientist and that feels like bad practice to me. Fuck Jerry Anderson. In this universe he magically gets shot by someone and the firefly hospital mysteriously gets burnt to the ground (miller family road trip to Utah for some light recon (stealing everything the fireflies know about immunity) and a little bit of arson for a treat (burning the hospital to the ground)).

Other random things that didn't make it into the fic:

- Tommy and Marlene definitely fucked like twice and then mutually agreed to just never mention it again

- Tess did propose a threesome at one point to Tommy who laughed and told her he was down if Joel was, knowing full well that Joel was completely gone on Tess and wouldn't share her for the world

- bi Tess because I say so and I'm bi so I sensed the vibe (Anna torvs is hot)

- they tell Ellie about what they did to the fireflies, and then tell her that if they find anyone who actually has a hope in hell of making a vaccine they'll take her themselves

- Ellie still gives herself a chemical burn, but she goes to Tommy for help with the tattoo because Joel told her he had tattoos, failing to mention that Tommy's tattoo was a drink mistake that he never shows to anyone. He finds someone good who can tattoo safely and sterilely and helps pick the design and sits with Ellie the whole time

[officialtayley]

(long post allert)

Sorry but some people on twt piss me off. Yes, some people who went through trauma still feel affection to their abuser even after cutting them off, but it doesn't mean it is an universal experience, but some people really wanted that to be true for Hayley even despite her doing/stating multiple things basically denying it. She knew she deserved better while still being with him (she said so on that Bialik podcast). So these people who were thinking ffv was about chad not only couldn't connect obvious dots (ffv taking place before the final part of pfa, lyrical hints about someone who clearly wasn't chad), but also it was just them not accepting she could be in a different relationship than she was her whole life. I'm not saying people needed to know it was Taylor, but to deny so many obvious things that Hayley deeply loved another person and didn’t want their relationship to end… Some people just really wanted her to hurt, and be so deep in her trauma to never stop thinking about other person than chad. I know it's harsh but I really believe there were people who just wanted Hayley to hurt like the same way they were after leaving abusive relationships. I even remember back in like 2018/2019 people on reddit were saying that it's her time to be finally single and heal from shit, that she for sure isn't in a relationship nor she even wants to be. Well you can heal from shit while being in a love with someone else, also not everyone who was through shit actually misses and still loves her abuser. Hayley realised what he did to her, she never again felt like she needed him in her life, but some people just really want her to pin after chad her whole life. I mean that relationship left burden on her view of love, no doubt about that, but stop making everything in her life about this man. It wasn't a sudden divorce, but all her feelings to him were slowly dying/changing. She said in that letter to Aaron in 2016 (from No Friend) that she didn't have any trust in any relationship. I would say they were heading to divorce even before their marriage.

i agree with everything you said. you said it perfectly. no one has even said either that she can't have missed him or still loved him, hell she may have gone through that when divorcing, we don't know, but like you stated, she was VERY aware the relationship was bad for her, she said that since day 1 she knew it was doomed and was waiting for it to happen, and i think it was in the oped with paper magazine she said her love for him changed from romantic to brotherly. it really does feel like people wanted her to basically never work through her trauma and always be in it, because most of these comments also come from stans, people like us, people who kept up with chad after they split, people who still do, so they would've known a song like HYD would NOT have been about him as he wasn't a smoker. people conveniently love to forget that trying to be in a healthy relationship after an unhealthy/abusive one is very difficult and it's very common for self sabotage to happen, especially if she hadn't worked through some things like she thought she was going to. and that is very much what ffv is about, rather than it being about still holding onto that relationship, it's about how what she went through was then affecting the relationship she truly wanted to be in.

[fuckyeahfightlock]

Advent Ficlets 2022, Day 5

Wind

Sherlock was frowning, and not just with a down-turned mouth. His wrinkled forehead was in on it, and the bridge of his nose. His shoulders crept toward his ears; he looked vaguely horrified, or at the very least, disgusted. When he stretched one index finger to stroke his laptop’s trackpad, it was as if he were reaching to touch something slime-coated, and he was quick to withdraw. He let go a slight grunt, indicating exasperation and distaste.

“What’s so terrible?” John asked, peering at Sherlock over the top of the newspaper. He let the corner of the page dip down lazily, out of the way.

“Hm? Oh.” Sherlock shook himself free of his grimacing posture as if shaking off a bad dream. “Marriage vows. In specific, those vows written by couples and posted online as--” he made quick quote-marks in the air with his fingers “--inspiration. What myriad ways people won’t find to humiliate themselves publicly.”

“You’ve a point there. I think the internet experience peaked in the late ‘90s. It’s all a bit too easy now.” John folded up the paper and set it aside on the table beside his armchair as he went on. “The standard ones aren’t bad. Book of Common Prayer. Adaptable--nobody has to promise to obey the other.”

“Don’t be so sure, John.” Sherlock’s eyes sparked at his own joke.

“Right, I’ll be requesting final edit on those, then.” In the kitchen, John switched the kettle on and waited for the water to hot up, leaning against the worktop with arms folded on his chest. “I can feel a breeze here,” he mused. “We should see about this window.”

“Tell your landlady,” Sherlock said drily. “She can phone a handyman.”

“I think you and I are the handyman, Sherlock.”

“That can’t be right.” He leaned far back in his chair, stretching his limbs for miles before resettling. “Anyway, we can write our own, I suppose. Without inspiration from the windy drivel dreamed up by Helena and Thomas from Lincolnshire, who I’m certain are by now divorced.” He shut the laptop. “I’ll have tea, if you’re making it.”

“Indeed, I am.”

“That’s rare.”

“Or I could make just my own and get on with my day.”

“Thank you, John, for making the tea. Shall we promise ‘til death do us part?”

John busied himself with the mugs and sugar bowl, immediately reminded of their mutual propensity to run into danger rather than away from it. “Seems words like that might be tempting fate. And you’ll be tired of it long before we get anywhere near old age.” He shrugged.

Sherlock, now crossing the room to join him in the kitchen, fixed him with a hard glare. “Tired of it?”

John hadn’t realised how casually he’d just predicted the demise of their relationship. He’d been going for a joke, of course. But.

“Sherlock Holmes, tied down to domestic bliss?”

“With you, though,” Sherlock said, as if it were obvious that a marriage with John Watson in it was inevitably going to be anything but tamed down to the dull roar of silent shared meals and seeing to the drafty kitchen window.

“Tired of me, then,” John said, shrugging once more, feeling rather smaller than he liked to. Where was this coming from? “Know what? Nevermind,” he said quickly, forcing a grin. “Just a joke that didn’t land.”

“No,” Sherlock intoned, and reached for John’s hand. “Not a joke. If you for even a single minute can imagine a time I will not be wildly--one might say obsessively--enamoured of you every minute of the rest of my life then I have failed us both. I can’t imagine it. Because it’s impossible. I love you ferociously.” He put sincere, heavy emphasis on the last word, imparting his seriousness. “You must know this by now.”

John let go a self-deprecating little laugh and even as they eased into an embrace, he shrugged dismissively. “I know. I know you do. But how can you be sure you will tomorrow? Or in a few years--when I finally lose control of my thickening middle? When we’ve solved all the cases, and traveled and stayed in, and done all the sex things.”

“There are always more and different sex things,” Sherlock corrected, and the tension broke around their shared smiles.

“It just came on in a hurry, and now we’re three weeks away from committing to something I’m not sure you’ve really thought all the way through.” John’s voice was low, and they were too close to focus on each other’s faces, which made it easier. “I mean.” He cleared his throat. “Who am I? To think I can marry you?”

Sherlock stroked his hand down John’s chest, smoothing his edges, then plucked a bit of lint and gently flicked it away.

“Well isn’t it obvious?” he asked seriously, softly. “You’re John Watson.”