#YALL THOUGHT WRONG

[just-another-siimp]

Epilogue

Warnings: Brief mention of war, injuries and anxiety, alcohol use, poor fire safety, lots of smooches (16+), lots of fluff, a ton of fluff.

Authors Note: This is is, the Enemy at the Gate series is finally done! All this is is self indulgent fluffy. Pairing below the cut!

Word Count: 2k

Enemy at the Gate || Alone || Prison Break || Epilogue

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x Reader

The months following Las Almas blurred into one, with Hassan dead and Makarov crawling out of the rafters like the cockroach that he was, there was so much work to be done. Laswell had other plans for the 141st, forcing a mandatory leave period of 6 weeks. Allowing everyone to heal both mentally and physically. For some of you returning home was a secret blessing, it allowed opportunities for hidden relationships to bloom behind drawn curtains. Not that your relationship was hidden from the 141st, they were the people you trusted with your life so it was only natural that they knew. It was either that or have them find out, and they always find out. 

For you home is a cottage on the outskirts of Metz, allowing the beauty of the French countryside to swallow you whole. At first you’d thought the choice to move to France of all places would be something you’d regret, yet there had been nothing but happy memories made in the cottage you and your beloved called home. While you’d been away the seasons had changed, summer had been in full swing, the Apricot trees in the back garden had been full of the sweet fruit. Now it was covered in snow, the flowers had died long ago, leaves fallen to the ground below long before you’d even thought of home. Yet under a blanket of white, it was still your favourite place to be. 

-

Soft quacks could be heard just outside your kitchen window, peaking out from the frosted glass you caught sight of your two favourite trouble makers. Henry and Gale, a pair of ducks that belonged to your neighbour but always had a habit of venturing over to your cottage. They supplied a pleasant background noise as you kneaded dough, even in the cold weather it was easy to build up a sweat. Your arm still ached, bullet wound leaving a nasty scar despite the neat stitching. After a few more weeks it would be back to normal but for now you dealt with the ache, covering the bowl with a damp towel before leaving the dough to proof. 

The kitchen was an organised mess, Stew bubbling away in it’s pot atop the stove while vegetables soaked in water waiting to be formed into something that resembled a salad. The cupboard was fully stocked with snacks, both sweet and savoury. Outside in the garage there was a fridge filled with beer, amongst other drinks. Next to it a pile of firewood had been stacked sky high, your neighbour (the owner of Henry and Gale) had kept it well stocked in exchange for Apricots from your tree. Staring at the fridge you looked at the list you’d written, there wasn’t a lot left to do before the boys arrived but still you paced the kitchen anxiously. 

Gale’s quacking was interrupted by a car engine as it pulled into the driveway, a flurry of snow and wings indicated that the pair had flown away spooked by the slam of a car door. Suddenly you remembered you were supposed to be resting, you’d promised not to do anything on your own and allow your arm a chance to heal without extra strain. There wasn’t time to hide the evidence, front door creaking open reminding you that it needed to be oiled before Price arrived. He’d go full handyman and try finding other things to fix if you didn’t. 

“Babe, I’m home! You’d never believe what I found at the store today-” Your heart skipped a beat hearing his voice, excitement already welling up in your chest. The kitchen door swung open and you attempted to look as though you’d just been standing in the kitchen for no reason. “Hey- you’re supposed to be resting!”

“Oh hey.. Gaz- you’re back home early!” The way he was staring at you was a clear indication that your goose was indeed cooked, as he placed the bags down. Reaching out to you he pulled you closer, hand reaching up to cup your cheek before brushing flour off of your nose. Ah, so you’d really been caught red handed.

“Is this how you feel when you catch one of us working when we’re supposed to be resting?” He asked softly, lips pressed to your forehead as he pulled you into him. It was hard not to melt into his embrace, breathe in his cologne as his hands trailed down to your waist leaving warmth in his wake. 

“Oh it’s incredibly frustrating to see.” You murmured softly into the crook of his neck, leaning all of your weight into him with a content sigh. It was nice to have him home, even if he was only gone for a couple of hours. “Especially when the Captain falls asleep at his desk in the process.”

You’re both laughing at that, Gaz leaning down a little further lips pressing to yours in a sweet kiss. Fingers pressing flush into the back of your thighs tapping once as if to say ‘up’, the movement was effortless as he lifted you onto the counter. Fingers curled into his hair, still slightly damp from the snow he must’ve been caught in while he was out. His lips tasted faintly of chocolate, your brow furrowed and you pulled away. 

“Did you have hot chocolate without me?” Guilt was written all over his face, his fingers traced gentle circles into your sides trying to soften you up. “I can’t believe you.” 

“They were handing out cups for free! How could I say no?” 

“Easily.” He kissed your nose, you pouted at him trying to hide the smile that threatened to break out on your face. Gaz knew you weren’t really angry at him, how could you be? When you didn’t say anything he trailed kisses across your cheek and down your jaw, coaxing a whine from your lips. “Kyle.. I’m trying to be angry at you.” 

“Guess I’ll just have to take the coco powder they were selling back to the store.” You tried turning to the paper bag that sat forgotten on the kitchen counter next to you, his right hand rested on the side of your neck. Thumb grazing your chin before grasping it gently, keeping your focus on him. “The marshmallows too.” 

“Giant Marshmallows?” 

“Of course, biggest I could find.” 

“Why didn’t you say so sooner?” Before he could respond you’d pulled him closer, eyes fluttering shut as you both lost yourselves in the kiss. It was often like this after deployment, there was no looming threat or unwanted eyes on either of you. In this little bubble of the world you could both cherish the little moments and the silly moments just like this one. 

The rest of the morning was spent in the kitchen, with you sat at a bar stool while Gaz worked on perfecting his stew refusing to let you do anything to help. This time you listened to his ‘orders’ laughing when he mocked you, scolding you just as you did to him and the others when they didn’t rest. Elbows rested on the cool countertop, your chin resting on the palm of your hand was you watched him cook. Hot chocolate with a comically large marshmallow floating within it partially forgotten. 

-

Snow crunched beneath your feet, cool air nipping at exposed skin as you shuffled out to the wood pile. There were some things that Gaz couldn’t stop you from helping with, like a puppy you’d followed him out into the snow not taking no for an answer. He still wouldn’t let you carry the wood, instead allowing you to light the fire and only because you’d hidden the matches from him. 

“You could’ve at least put gloves on.” He said walking towards you, firewood piled in his arms. “Can you grab the axe for me, love?” 

“Why wear gloves when you can hold my hand?” There was a pep in your step as you grabbed the axe off of the wall, true intentions hidden behind a giddy smile as you followed him to the designated wood cutting stump. “One axe, ready and willing to serve. Sir!” 

“Are you having a sugar high?” 

“Hmm maybe.” 

“That hot chocolate is pretty good, I bet even Ghost will like it.” You watched as he removed his jacket, wrapping it over your shoulders before taking the axe from your waiting hands. That reminded you, looking at the time it wouldn’t be long before the others arrived. The dough was only half way through it’s second proof, there were still blankets that needed to be pulled from cupboards for whoever crashed on the couch and neither you or Kyle had made the salad. The first crack of axe meeting wood pulled you from your thoughts, this was the real reason you’d come outside just to watch Gaz at work. 

-

Ghost was the first to arrive, he wore the usual skull balaclava which really made the bright pink box of chocolates in his arms stand out more. You would’ve laughed but he didn’t give you the chance, shoving the box into your arms and walking into the cottage not without ruffling your hair on the way. You could hear Gaz greeting him in the kitchen, their voices muffled by the kitchen door as it closed again. The sun had set roughly an hour ago, leaving the surrounding area covered in darkness. There was no reason for you to be standing at the door still, yet you couldn’t stop looking into the black searching for something that wasn’t there. 

“Chip.” You almost screamed, whirling around to face Ghost with a half hearted glare. He shot you an apologetic look, reaching past you to turn on the front garden lights. Illuminating the darkness, revealing Gale and Henry snuggled together under the bench. “It’s just the ducks, nothings gonna come crawling out of the shadows here.” 

“I know.” You whispered softly, stepping away from the door and closing it. Ignoring how the cold seemed to settle in your bones despite the fireplace being well lit. Ghost had forced you to show him to the livingroom despite him knowing exactly where it was, distracting you from what lurked in the shadows. 

-

Price and Soap had arrived together, the Captain having picked up John in london before driving the rest of the way. They both planned to stay a few days, using it as an excuse to stay at their home away from home. Not that you or Gaz were complaining, it was nice to have the extra company especially because it meant getting to listen to Soap butcher french with his thick Scottish accent. Ghost would most likely be gone by morning, he wasn’t the type to stick around for long but you always made him promise to take some leftovers home. 

The five of you surrounded the fire pit, Soap standing a bit too close to comfort as he tipped his head back downing another Guava Cruiser. Your home was one of the only places where he’d drink something other than beer or a strong spirit, in private where none of you judged further than shitty banter. These types of gatherings didn’t happen often, it was a chance for everyone to relax. As always Gaz’s cooking was the main star of the show, matched with the fresh bread you’d made that afternoon it was a real treat. Even Ghost had taken Gaz up on the offer of a hot coco (mind you it had a shot of peppermint liquour and no marshmallow, sorta disappointing really) from where he stood next to Soap he seemed to be enjoying it. Even if he had to stop the Scot from falling into the fire. 

None of you worried about what battles were next to come.

Tag List: @komorebiiiiiiii @mauveserpent @mydogeatscoffeecups @reiya-djarin @underatreedrinkingtea @blueoorchid @poohkie90 @kult6 @watermaylon-writes @boxofgasoline @cumbersome-robes @frazie99 @bowserowser @urfavsunkissedleo @kyuupidwrites @omgitstatertot @justpeachiixx @trashy-panda777 @msecho19 @spinkeydinkey @whoreforhorror

[queenofthekings]

I should be writing but I discovered this instead and I'm addicted

[imreallyonthishellsite]

People with siblings or know a pair of siblings I've got a question for you

the other day I had a conversation with a guy who said sibling friendships don't really count bc that's family and I'm just like, ??? yeah that's my family but I can also like my sister as a person and have a friendship with her. So I'm just curious to see what the general vibe here is.

btw the "it's complicated" option is for ppl who are either estranged siblings, parenting their siblings, or some other issue they've got going on not any weird freak shit(ifkyk)

Anyways choose your option and if want you can explain in the tags

[icelogged]

[ashleys-doodle-corner]

i'm sorry, siffrin. and thank you, loop.

[crunchycrystals]

credit to u/ioncelostashoe on reddit for this comment i need to post it on here to share

(also would explain why they knew it should stop at 5 rounds)

[steddieas-shegoes]

cw: mentions of scarring, canon-typical violence, flashback (not graphic), minor body horror (again, not graphic, mostly just emotional feelings about scars)

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

Everyone gave him weird looks when they walked in, quickly schooling their features when they noticed he was awake and watching them.

He didn’t know exactly what that was about.

They had him on a lot of good drugs.

But eventually he got weaned off them, and he noticed the pull of bandages on his side, and his arm, and his neck, and his face.

He was still unable to get out of bed. Still couldn’t even reach his arms above his chest for more than a few seconds.

But he damn sure reached up to feel the cloth and plastic surrounding his cheek. How had he not noticed for days? How had no one bothered him about it?

Maybe they had and he just didn’t notice. The morphine was one hell of a drug.

Wayne was soft, patient with him. Saw him touching it, saw the way his eyes filled with tears. He’d never been particularly vain, hadn’t cared much about what he looked like to others, but this felt bigger than that. This felt like he was changed in a way that everyone could see.

Add it to the list of things people could bully him for.

He cried himself to sleep, Wayne’s hand in his, silently comforting in the way he’d always done.

When he woke up again the next morning, he was alone.

It was the first time he’d been alone since the boathouse.

He could swear he heard bats outside his door, screams coming from the attached bathroom, flashes of someone dying on the ceiling.

He felt the sharp sting of teeth puncturing his skin.

He felt hopelessness creep into his bones as he gave in.

Maybe this time they would finish the job.

“Eddie!”

Steve Harrington’s voice broke through the thoughts, panicked enough to bring Eddie back to his hospital bed within a second of hearing it.

“Shit, are you okay?” He continued, hand brushing against Eddie’s bandaged cheek.

Eddie nodded once, closed his eyes, leaned into the touch.

He could blame it on any number of things if Steve felt weird about it. The morphine, the flashback, the loneliness.

“You’re okay, Eddie. I promise. Won’t let anything happen to you,” Steve whispered.

Eddie believed him.

He fell back asleep with Steve’s hand gently cupping the mangled side of his face.

If Steve could still touch him there, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

Steve came by every day, sometimes in the early morning, before visiting hours officially started, sometimes well after Wayne had left to get some sleep. He always smiled when he walked in, a genuine one, not the one everyone else gave that was so fully of pity and pain he couldn’t bear to make eye contact. He sat down on the side of the bed, not the chair like everyone else, not scared to be close.

And every single day, without fail, he would run his finger along the edge of Eddie’s bandage on his face, watching his own movements and cataloging any changes.

Eddie sat quietly, still, scared to put words to anything happening. Scared to tell Steve what it meant to him to have someone acknowledge his pain in this way. Scared to think Steve could mean anything by it.

It was easy to pretend Steve was doing this because he cared.

Maybe he did care.

But he didn’t care the way Eddie wanted him to, needed him to.

So he stayed quiet, still.

He watched.

He fell asleep while Steve talked about his day, the kids, what Joyce made Hopper do around the house.

He woke up alone most days, but that was okay, because Steve would be there eventually.

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

“You ready to get that thing off?” Wayne asked, gesturing to the bandage.

“Oh. Today?” Eddie suddenly didn’t want to ever be without the bandage. Removing it meant he’d see what was under it.

It meant seeing how much that place had ruined him.

The pull of the stitches hadn’t been as obvious with the pull of the bandage masking it.

But now it’s all he felt.

The nurse smiled at him as she put some antibiotic cream over the area, saying he would probably still have to keep it extra clean for the next week or so while the stitches did their job.

Wayne smiled at him in the way that meant he didn’t really want to smile at all, but knew Eddie needed him to.

Steve didn’t come.

Eddie didn’t sleep.

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

He woke up with panic in his chest and a silent scream in his throat.

He woke up with Steve’s hand on his face.

Gentle, soft, but a strong comfort.

“Promise I washed them first. They said we have to be careful about germs,” Steve said quietly.

“You don’t have to. I know it’s…it’s gross. It’s ugly. I’m ugly.”

Steve shook his head. “No. Not gross. Not ugly. Alive.”

“Steve-“

“You’re alive, Eddie. You could have your entire face held together by staples and you would still be a miracle. You’d still be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Well, Steve’s charm wasn’t an exaggeration, was it?

He wasn’t even sure if the skin barely pulled together could blush anymore, or if the heat that should be on his cheek was burning on the outside the way it felt like it was on the inside.

“It’s gonna be awful when it heals. I saw it in the mirror.” Eddie could feel every stitch in his jaw, the few that spread across the corner of his mouth and bottom lip, the ones that were nearly up to his ear. “I’ll always have a crooked face. The scar will always be huge. It’s all anyone will see.”

“Then they aren’t looking.”

Eddie bit his lip, eyes searching Steve’s. “But you are.”

“No. I’m seeing. There’s a difference. I see you. I see what you’ve survived. I see the mark it left on you. I know it wasn’t just the scars that cover your skin.” Steve leaned his head down, touching Eddie’s forehead with his own. “We all have them. And we’re all still here. Your heart’s beating. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Who knew you were so good with words?” Eddie smiled sadly.

“Robin says I’m just good at not having a filter.”

“She’s right as always.” Eddie wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist, turning as slowly as he could to kiss his palm. “You’re not scared of it.”

“No. Are you?”

“I’m scared that you’ll change your mind when it’s always there as a reminder of what happened.”

Steve kissed his nose, making him smile for the first time in what felt like years.

“I’ll have the reminder that I got you out of there. That no matter what, the bats couldn’t finish the job. That you were stronger and you made it.” Steve let his hand drop, but quickly laced his fingers with Eddie’s. “I know it’s a lot to ask of you to trust me, but will you? For today?”

“Just today?”

“I’ll ask again tomorrow.”

“And what? Every day after that?”

Steve smirked.

His eyes were glistening with tears, but Eddie could tell it wasn’t sadness or fear.

“If that’s what I have to do.”

They hadn’t even talked about feelings, not really. Nothing that made any sense to Eddie, nothing that they could define. A part of Eddie was still convinced he was in a coma and dreaming this entire conversation up.

But even the nurse had noticed the way Steve watched him, how he touched him, how he fought for him. She said he’d been a firecracker from the moment he carried him into the hospital, dripping blood on the tile, staining the halls with his demands for help.

Wayne said he barely left his side the first day, only doing so when the doctors had told him they would call the cops if he didn’t.

Erica even noticed how things had changed between them, stating that she refused to watch her babysitter and the only DM she had respect for make out.

But Steve held Eddie, made him feel like he could get out of the hospital bed and live a life that wouldn’t keep him running. Steve was there.

Steve might even love him. If not now, then some day.

And Eddie could trust him today.

He could probably trust him tomorrow.

“Kiss me?” Eddie probably shouldn’t. The stitches tugged when he talked, and another mouth anywhere near his wounds was just asking for an infection.

But Steve would be careful. He knew what Eddie could handle.

It was barely a kiss. A graze of the lips at most.

But it was the best kiss Eddie had ever had.

At least until tomorrow.

[lueuri]

i feel like theres nothing to read on jjk tumblr nowadays except smut and shitty smaus that sound like they were made by 13 year olds

[shokveyv]

shut up

[generalsdiary]

listen I might sound crazy but you know how Aventurine would spend all of his money on his family were they alive? like they grew up poor- worse than poor, and he is always gambling yes- but he is also insanely rich. you just know he'd shower them in money and buy everything for them and that credits today have little to no meaning to him because he has gotten them too late. it wasn't "fast enough" to save them, to ease their lives. and you just know he regrets it, but still hoards more credits, gambling, earning, wasting, etc.

now allow me to draw a parallel to a character in gi most of the fandom doesn't like. dori. LET ME SPEAK- dori's sister died (in her arms) from an illness because her family didn't have enough money to buy the herbs prescribed for her sister's treatment and that is why Dori ends up cherishing every mora/money, turns in a mora hungry capitalist powerhouse and makes everything about her; just money. because she couldn't help her sibling when it mattered. also the "limitless mora" for her comes from receiving a bunch of items from Alice (Klee's mom) - they made a business deal, etc, just a detail.

and it is interesting how most of the fandom dislikes dori so much (meta wise I get it, and also some other povs), when the parallel to aventurine is a straight line and he is loved and liked by so many (granted, I love riney). no amount of mora/credits can bring their family member(s) back or fix what happened, yet they stay in it, hoarding more, be it due to our boy's luck, or Dori's deal and persistence. I know many ppl draw his line to Kaveh, but from this pov it is screaming Dori.

and yh his story is more tragic- but we are talking money rn ppl- stay focused;

here is where their characters differ in the money area. with how little regard he has towards the money, Aventurine, our Kakavasha is so kind, so so kind. he gives out freely, he doesn't give two shits while sending money to the TB (it is worth mentioning that he thinks he also HAS to do it, and that gifts and things of high material value are most appreciated, ex. the gifts the TB receives after become the captain of the ship in penacony. he sadly has a view of it that everyone needs to be given something in return, truly struggling with forming real friendships/relationships except with the TB and Ratio- which I'd love to go more into on another analysis), he openly shares his money to whomever- and in his contrast, dori would probably rather jump off a cliff than give a single gold mora coin to... well, anyone.

both have been through such tragedy and turned rich later on through various means- when it technically no longer matters to them as much as it could've mattered before- and to see one be indifferent towards it/see it as a means to an end & what ppl respond well to vs. the other be stingy to the point she is hurting people while doing it and purposefully putting them in debt (I hate you for what you did to Kaveh TWICE, dori.), makes a really interesting parallel made by hoyo ngl. thoughts?

[dykedvonte]

And yes!!! even you 🫵 dear Mouthwashing fanatic have fallen for Jimmy’s avoidant delusion that Curly should’ve been more responsible for his actions than himself!!!

[electromage1821]

true true truee

[beneathsilverstars]

isabeau is so surprised and flustered and delighted when sif says he's glad they're friends... everyone in this party is so fucking dense

[deeply-unserious-fellow]

I know Robbie is supposed to be one of those edgy ass losers who constantly talk about how fucked up they are in the head despite having a completely normal homelife, but like... Idk man, he lives in a graveyard with parents who use glass caskets WITH BODIES INSIDE for tables, casually call him by his full legal name when they aren't even mad for some fucking reason, and are just kinda. Scary in general. I think he kinda has a right to be Like That, y'know? Obviously I'm not trying to excuse him being a douche or whatever(seriously who the fuck beefs with a 12 year old because the kid has a crush on their girlfriend?), but I think a lot of his personality makes much more sense when you look at him through the lense of "this is a 16 year old who was raised in a relatively isolated and scary part of town, with parents who do not treat serious things like death with the gravity those subjects deserve". Nobody that was raised in that kind of environment is gonna turn out well adjusted are you kidding me!?

[stevejobsbuysasamsung]

you are my destiny by paul anka

[luna-loveboop]

I've never done a poll before, so good luck

Who do y'all think Time'll handcuff to him be with for his group in the dungeon? I've seen a lot of people say he will try to control who goes with who since he's scared for their lives rn (valid)

The options are the individual boys, just go with who you think is most likely to be in his group I guess?

Anyways like I said I've never done a poll so it might be messed up or make no sense, should be fun :D

Let me know if this doesn't work. And yes I know it's not well organised.. it's ok. right?

I think that unlike when they split in the Divine Dark Reflections arc, they might try to stay in bigger groups, and I think Time would probably want to have as many close to him as possible (his group have three or four), but I uhh didn't know how to incorporate that.

It's silly, but right now I can't stop imagining a scene where they reach the central room and everyone sprints off into the groups they want before time can argue.

Anyone who goes with legend will survive physically and anyone who goes with four will survive mentally.