#there so many though... and i have even more ideas for new ones like...

[thesquidgame]

Promises

Kang Dae-ho x reader

Summary: You and Dae-ho's relationship, from the beginning, to one night in a subway station.

Warning: female reader who can get pregnant, abusive parents, existential crisis, misogyny and toxic masculinity (not from Dae-ho), PTSD, shootings, injury, infertility, a lot of medical talk, surgery, male infertility, guilt and hopelessness, medical emergency with a pregnant woman, premature baby, lmk if I missed anything

The character's references to their infertility is their emotions and feelings towards the situation as a trauma response. A person struggling with infertility is not broken or a failure in any way whatsoever.

15k

It was the middle of the night, when you met Dae-ho. You were working at your job in a convenience store, and were staring at your phone. You had been scrolling for what felt like hours when you heard someone approach the cash register. You put your phone down, preparing for a quick transaction. Only to be surprised that  when you looked up, you saw the most attractive man you had ever seen in your entire life. 

He was wearing a full military uniform, and his hat was off revealing a shaved head.

“Um, hi.” You said, immediately internally face-palming because of your stupid first line.

“Hi!” The man said, “just this please!” He was smiling, even though it was after midnight on a Monday.

You panned down to see a candy bar and a sugary drink guaranteed to rot anyone’s teeth. Shockingly, you had only ever sold it to children before. 

“Um, yeah of course.” Jeez, was um the only word in your vocabulary?

You quickly scanned the items, and the smiling military man grabbed them both, “thanks, see you later!”

Puzzled, you stared at him as he walked away, confused as to what had just happened with that smiling sculpted-by-the-gods man.

The man came in every night after that, always around midnight, and always with a smile on his face. After the first day, you noticed that he would go outside, eat whatever he had bought in front of the door, and then leave. You understood, sometimes after your shift ended you would stand in front of the convenience store for a while, just sighing. It was nice to have a moment of peace somewhere besides work or home.

After a week you got the courage to go outside and talk to him, “hi, excuse me, you’re welcome to come inside.” He turned, looking at you as he sipped his drink through a straw, “I just mean… I have another chair, you could. Um.” You paused, mortified. “I’m sorry, ignore me.” You hesitated for another second before saying, “Sir?” You were unsure of the title you should greet him with

He laughed, in a way that clearly felt like he was not admonishing you. “Sorry, that would be great.” He reached out his hand towards you, “and the only people who call me sir are the new recruits, you can call me Dae-ho.” You shook his hand.

Dae-ho came and sat on a chair that was halfway behind the cashier, and halfway in the open. “I’m sorry to be so awkward, I just don’t talk to too many people on the night shift. It’s the middle of winter so I thought you would be more comfortable inside.” He looked at you, entirely seriously, “I don’t think you’re awkward at all.”

You smiled, looking away from him. If he looked in your eyes he would definitely see how flustered you were. “Thank you.”

You were terrible at flirting. Terrible, awful. Every attempt you had made with previous guys and crashed and burned. The only people you actually dated were alpha male types who took control of every situation. They said the first line, your conversations followed their lead, and when you approached a topic they didn’t understand, or didn’t want to talk about, that would no longer be the topic you were talking about. 

Dae-ho wasn’t like that. At all.

Whenever you approached a new topic he would prop his elbow up on the table and rest his head on his hand, staring at you intently. No matter how long it would take you to get the idea across, or how long you rambled on about one topic, he would listen. He would never interrupt, only ask questions when you were done.

On one especially cold night, the power went out. The streets had become icy, and Dae-ho refused to let you make your way home in the dark by yourself. And you refused to let him walk you home, only to turn around right after and walk by himself in the dangerous conditions to the subway station.

So, you both were sitting in the back room of the tiny little convenience store, as far from the front as possible to stay warm until the power came back on. Your phone said it would be in an hour at most, and you crossed your fingers that it would because it was getting colder by the minute.

There was something about a small room, with no windows, that made deep conversations so much easier. Dae-ho was sitting cross-legged in front of you, talking about his mother and sisters, and how close he was with all of them even into adulthood. It made perfect sense, every time you learned something about him it clicked perfectly into place like a puzzle piece.

“All of my sisters have kids already. My oldest sister has three already.” He said, eating a bag of chips that you snagged from inventory.

“Three, well that’s not so bad. One of my friends in high school had eight siblings.” You laughed, and Dae-ho grimaced.

“Nine kids, and I thought five was way too many.” He said, chuckling.

“By the way Dae-ho, I just realized I never asked how old you are.” You felt embarrassed. That was one of the first questions you were supposed to ask, but somehow you had skipped that step. Dae-ho had insisted you talk informally even though he was in the military, and you begrudgingly did so. It would be amusing if he was younger than you after all.

Dae-ho took a swig of his drink, “I’m 24.” You gasped, “really? I’m 25, that makes me your elder.” You laughed, and Dae-ho blushed.

“Yeah, I guess that does.” He said, smiling as he ate another chip.

“So how old’s your sister? How crazy three kids really is depends on your age.” You laughed.

“She’s 28.” Dae-ho said, looking down.

“Wait, that means that all of you are less than a year apart! Your poor mother.” You laughed, only stopping when you noticed Dae-ho frowning. “Oh, I’m sorry. I- I didn’t mean to-” “No, no it’s fine.” He said, “my dad really wanted a boy. So my mom, just- just couldn’t stop until I was born.” He looked pained, and your heart broke for both him and his mother.

“Dae-ho, I’m sorry, that must’ve been really difficult for your mother.” You reached out for his hand. It twitched, but he kept it still. Everything in Dae-ho’s nature told him to pull away, but all he wanted was to be comforted by you as tears threatened to spill out of his eyes.

He sniffled, “yeah, it really was. She had health issues for years after I was born.” You squeezed his hand, “I’m sorry, we barely know each other, I shouldn’t be crying about all my problems to you.”

“Dae-ho, it’s alright. I’m not going to judge you. If it would make you feel better, I could talk about my problems too.” You said, trying to comfort him. “You- you really don’t have to do that.” He said, wiping his eyes with the back of his jacket. He had offered to let you wear it too, over your already thick winter coat, but you refused to take away his only source of warmth.

There was a pause between the two of you, where you decided if you wanted to share or not. Dae-ho didn’t want to force you to talk, so he opened his mouth, ready to fill the silence. 

“Sometimes I wonder if I’m a failure.” You whispered. “I moved to Seoul with stars in my eyes or whatever they say, and so far all I’ve accomplished is a shitty dead end job. There aren’t any entry level positions for my degree open anywhere, and I just feel like my life is a boring, endless cycle.” Tears dropped from your eyes onto your jeans, “I’m really scared. What if it stays this way forever. Just being the under-achiever and the pushover who isn’t capable of making anything happen. Not interesting enough to have anyone listen to what I say.” Dae-ho squeezed your hand, interrupting you for the first time, “hey, I’m here. I’m listening. I think you’re interesting enough.” You looked up at him, and he smiled. “Who you are is enough, and you aren’t an under-achiever, or a pushover. You’re not failing, the world’s just waiting for the right time to let you live your destiny.” You smiled back at him and laughed. “Hey Dae-ho?” “Yeah?” “Can I ask you something crazy?” He smiled, and in that moment you could’ve sworn he would’ve said yes to anything. “Sure.” “Can I kiss you?” 

He didn’t answer. Instead he leaned forward and kissed you. It wasn’t like all the kisses you’d seen in movies. Your tongues didn’t ‘battle for dominance,’ and you didn’t feel the burn of lust in your stomach. It felt- sweet. It felt safe. His lips were soft, and his hand was gently holding your cheek.

After a minute, he leaned back, and he blushed, “that was nice.”

You giggled as he wiped a tear off your cheek with his thumb, “yes, that was.” Right after your kiss the power came back on, “I guess it’s time to go home.”

Dae-ho picked up his trash and stood up, groaning loudly as he stretched. “Yeah, I guess it is.” You grabbed all of your things as slowly as you could, not wanting to leave Dae-ho’s side. “Well, I guess this is goodbye.” Dae-ho said as you stood outside the store, locking it with your key. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” Dae-ho turned around, looking like a sad puppy. You watched him slowly walk a couple of feet. He undoubtedly had no idea what he was doing, but he still looked miserably pitiful. 

“Dae-ho?”

“Yes?” He turned around in a heartbeat, his big eyes pleading to you.

You sighed, “do you want to come and stay in my apartment? Since it’s so cold and you would have to wait for the subway?” 

“Yes!” Dae-ho’s whole face lit up, and he jogged towards you with a huge smile on his face. You giggled, he was such a goofball. 

You walked to your apartment slowly, due to the frigid cold. You almost slipped on ice several times. While Dae-ho was wearing heavy duty-combat boots that could grip the snow much better than your sneakers did, you still felt reassured in your decision to not let him walk home by himself. He caught you several times, and only almost slipped once, when he let out a very dramatic “ahhh,” when his left foot slipped for a half a second.

Giggling further, you felt bad when he looked at you with those big puppy eyes, but you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. “It’s not funny.”

“It’s a little bit funny.” You giggled.

He glanced away, his cheeks growing redder, “okay, it’s a little bit funny.” Your apartment was a lot warmer than outside. The hallways and stairwells weren’t heated, but at least there wasn’t the constant threat of ice and the temperature wasn’t in single digits.

You weren’t sure what to expect when you got inside your apartment. Dae-ho was a gentleman, but you weren’t sure how he would interpreta girl inviting him into her apartment in the middle of the night.

The second you unlocked your door, you both took off your shoes. “Ugh, that smells awful.” 

Dae-ho looked offended as he sat off the floor unlacing his other shoe. “It does not! So rude.” He apprehensively reached over to grab his boot, only to recoil in shock when he sniffed it, “Oh god. That is… That is just awful.”

You laughed heartily, your anxiety at least partially having gone away after you witnessed Dae-ho’s adorable reaction to his own shoes. He laughed too. 

Your apartment was tiny. A studio room with the bedroom and living room areas divided only by a curtain. The kitchen only consisted of a single stove top and a mini-fridge. Yet, Dae-ho didn’t look uncomfortable whatsoever. In fact, he made himself at home. Right after he took off his shoes he walked over to your couch and sat down. “This is a really comfortable couch!”

For some reason, that made your giggles turn into something a bit more serious. “Thank you.” It was a really nice couch, and your favorite thing in your apartment. When a neighbor from the first floor moved out, she asked if anyone wanted a couch that “wouldn’t fit with the aesthetic of her new house,” and you gladly took her up on her offer. You had tugged it up the stairs and into your apartment. It had taken hours, and nearly a couple of broken bones. But it was a very nice couch. It was softer than any couch you had ever sat on, and when you looked it up you saw that it cost 1500 dollars. A number you found completely shocking to spend on a couch. “It is a really nice couch.”

Dae-ho didn’t seem to notice you getting emotional, “woah, and it reclines too. This is so fancy. I feel like a king!” He pushed the buttons over and over again, reclining and un-reclining several times. 

He was entirely oblivious to your emotions, and you were glad. No one had ever commented on your fancy sofa. Not the few guys you had dated, not your friends, no one. But here he was, an incredibly attractive man, sitting on the couch that only he had noticed, giggling about a recline feature. His smile was infectious, and you didn’t want to bring him down. In fact, his smile made you start smiling too.

“Can I get you anything?” You said, bending over to look in your tiny fridge to see what you could grab for him. The fridge came with the apartment, and you didn’t see a reason to get a larger one. Especially since you lived so close to a store that sold almost everything you. Plus, you had an employee discount.

You turned around to see Dae-ho staring at you, and he blushed when you made eye-contact. “Just water is fine.” He muttered. You were confused for a second, just a moment ago he was acting like he lived here and now he was being shy?

Oh. Oh. You had bent over and he was staring at your ass, giving him quite a fine view. “Do you like the view?” You said teasingly.

“What? What view? Um yes.” He said flustered. You looked back at him, stifling a laugh, “I mean. No, no of course not. I- I would never.”

“Oh, so you don’t like the view of the skyline.” You gestured towards the window that was slightly visible past the half-drawn curtain separating the room into two.

“Oh! I love that view. Yes, of course.” He sat in silence for a moment, before finally understanding, “you’re messing with me, aren’t you.”

You giggled, walking over to him and handing him a glass of water. “Bingo.” As you sat down next to him on the couch the room grew quiet. You moved closer to one another unconsciously, and Dae-ho stopped when he was a few inches away from your face. You could feel his breath on your lips “(Y/n), can I kiss you. Again.”

You nodded, and he closed the distance between you. This kiss was just as good as the first, and entirely different. It was passionate, and his tongue explored your mouth. He kissed you like you were the air he needed to survive. You had never been that good at kissing, never finding it natural or comfortable. But with him, kissing was like breathing.

You and Dae-ho made out on the couch like teenagers for at least an hour. You stopped to make jokes, and talk about various things. But even after all that, you were still nervous. Although you really liked Dae-ho, you didn’t want to sleep with him right now. You weren’t even dating, and that was a boundary you didn’t feel like crossing until far deeper in the relationship.

You trusted Dae-ho, and knew that if you said no he wouldn’t push it, but you didn’t want to make things awkward. What if he left? What if he wasn’t interested any more? A lot of guys you had dated had been turned off by you not wanting to sleep with them. You couldn’t explain why you wanted to wait until you had been together longer. You weren’t opposed to sex before marriage, and you didn’t have any special desire to be a virginal bride. But that trust took a long time to build, and you hadn’t been in a relationship with someone you liked enough to date for longer than a few months. That was why it just hadn’t happened yet. A guy who got pissed you wouldn’t sleep with them was not someone you wanted to have sex with, and certainly not someone you wanted to marry, or really date for any longer than 30 seconds after they said that.

While you were taking a water break from cuddling on the couch, Dae-ho finally asked the dreaded question. “Do you want to sleep with me?” He sounded a little bit nervous and bashful, but knowing him he meant it. Dae-ho had a dislike for lying, something he had told you that stemmed from the trauma of not realizing that Santa Claus wasn’t real well into his teens.

Your whole body froze up. Another thousand questions ran through your head. What if he gets embarrassed and leaves? Or what if you were a complete idiot and he was like all those other guys. “I’m sorry, I really don’t want to. It’s just I’ve been waiting until I’m in a long term relationship and I know we’re going to-” Dae-ho interrupts you, “Okay.”

Wait, what. “Okay?” 

He shrugged, taking a sip of water, “Okay. I don’t mind. I think we have a very important conversation about our favorite types of soup to get back to anyways.” You were flabbergasted. For some reason you hadn’t thought that anyone actually wouldn’t care. But here he was, not trying to push you any further. Not only was he not pushing about sex, but he wasn’t pressuring you into talking about your reasoning.

“Ye- yes. Yes we do.” 

You stayed up until the sun had almost risen, talking about if stew was only stew if it had meat in it, if Santa’s Sleigh could really fly, and other random things from your lives. 

Dae-ho finally started falling asleep, even though he was doing his best to hide it. After his eyes closed for far longer than the length of a blink, you giggled and put a stop to it. “Dae-ho, I’m really tired. Is it alright if we go to bed.”

Dae-ho’s eyes lit up. He clearly didn’t want to admit that he needed to sleep, so you gladly took that burden off his shoulders. “Yeah, sure, if you’re tired.” He kissed you gently on the forehead, and leaned back on the recliner, “goodnight (y/n).”

“Goodnight Dae-ho.”

In 30 seconds he was asleep.

You were wrong. It didn’t take a long time to build a deep level of trust with someone. Dae-ho said I love you on your third date, and you did on your fifth. You were living together in four months, and he proposed in six. You decided to wait until you got married to sleep with him. You wanted to feel completely and utterly whole on your wedding day, and having two moments that you considered important life events in one of the most important days of your life felt so perfect.

Dae-ho had slept with a couple of girls before, but he didn’t mind waiting at all. In fact, when you told him the reason you wanted to wait, he smiled a big smile and kissed you, “that is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said!”

Meeting his parents shortly after your engagement was the most difficult part of your relationship so far. His father was a quiet man. He sat cross legged on the low table you were sitting at, silently staring at you and Dae-ho while his mother brought out countless dishes one by one. You had met all of his sisters very early on in your relationship, so this was a dinner with just the four of you.

“So, I see you and Dae-ho are going to get married.” It was a statement of fact. You were quickly learning that Dae-ho’s father took everything seriously. 

“Yes sir.” Dae-ho addressed his father. You knew they had a very strained relationship. Dae-ho always felt overwhelmed by his father’s militaristic personality and masculine persona, but never confronted him about it to try and avoid dragging his mother into whatever argument would ensue.

However, you weren’t expecting him to call his father sir. The same title he called all his superiors in the army.

“You will have the wedding in the church down the street.” Again, no question. Dae-ho fidgeted on the floor, a tell-tale sign he was uncomfortable. You squeezed his hand.

“We were actually looking at a few venues. There was one in a botanical garden that Dae-ho was especially…” Your sentence trailed off. Both men stared at you intensely. Dae-ho’s father like he was offended you were speaking, and Dae-ho with an increasingly uncomfortable look.

It was his turn to squeeze your hand. “The church is really nice. We can get married there.” He said quietly. He didn’t want to get married in the church. He wanted to get married in the botanical garden. But you could tell this was not an issue he wanted to approach with his father, so you let it be.

You plastered on a fake smile, “church it is!”

His mother came into the living room, with a smile the exact same as Dae-ho’s on her face. “Alright, the food is ready!”

His father immediately started grabbing food, not hesitating for a moment. “This is too salty.” He said the moment he took a bite.

Her face fell, “oh, I’m sorry.”

You reached for the same dish he had rejected, and put some on your plate before taking a large bite. “Mm, this is delicious Mrs. Kang.”

Her face lit up, “thank you so much!” Dae-ho’s father scowled at her, and her smile depleted. “I appreciate you being kind about it.” 

Their family dynamics were playing out in front of your eyes. Dae-ho’s father was the boss. And everyone else had to obey him. The rest of the dinner played out in similar fashion, whenever anyone expressed an opinion differing from the family’s patriarch’s, it would get very quiet. Then, finally, he would start the conversation up again. You were the one who spoke ‘out of line’ the most. Dae-ho and his mother were far more practiced at deferring to him. After a delicious dinner, Dae-ho’s father stood up, “I think the men should go talk, the women can stay here and clean up.” Your stomach turned. You were liking this man less and less each time he opened his mouth.

Dae-ho was quiet, and followed his dad out of the room, into what you assumed was his dad’s ‘man cave.’

The second they left, his mother’s personality did a complete 180. A smile you hadn’t seen since she first entered the room spread across her face, and she asked a flurry of questions. “How old are you? Where are you from? How did you and my Dae-ho meet?” You quickly saw that Dae-ho took after his mother. Not only were they a splitting image of each other due to their enthusiastic smiles, but their bubbly personalities matched. You answered every question that she asked enthusiastically, and asked many of your own in return. As the conversation went on you finished packing away all the food and washing the dishes, and moved to sit at the table with a hot cup of tea that she had made from herbs in the garden.

She got quiet, and looked at you, “You know, my Dae-ho, he’s not like a lot of boys. He’s a marine, of course and he’s very strong, but…” She paused, taking a sip of her tea, “he’s soft. Not- not in a bad way, at least I don’t think so. But, he needs to be taken care of.’

“Not in the way I take care of my husband, with the chores and children,” she laughed, but it lacked enthusiasm , “But, more, in the way a man takes care of a woman.”

You knew exactly what she meant. You didn’t agree with the phrasing. It was clearly the mentality of the older generation, one that her father and husband likely drilled into her, but you understood. Dae-ho needed someone to treat him gently, the way he treated you. The way couples were supposed to treat each other. 

She was saying that he was not like her husband, and that your relationship should not be like hers.

You reached for her hand and squeezed it, “I know. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of eachother.”

She smiled, and then the men came back in. Dae-ho’s father was acting like his usual self, and Dae-ho looked even more uncomfortable than he did before, if that was possible.

His father slapped him on the back, and said “we’ll do this again.”

You turned back to his mother, and you saw that a little bit of her spark had left when her husband came back into the room. You left quickly, without lingering in the apartment, and walked into the warm air of the summer night.

Dae-ho was quiet as you walked to your car. Once he stepped into the driver's seat (something you didn’t expect as you usually drove), he slumped over. 

“Dae-ho, what’s wrong? Did your father say something to you?” You rubbed your hand over his back and felt his shoulders shake.

He sat up, and you could see tears running down his face, “I’m not going to be like him. I swear to you. You and our children will never have the same life as me and my mother.”

His face was red, and he was wetting his t-shirt with tears that had already dripped off his face, “Dae-ho, what happened?” 

You reached towards his face and ran your thumb on his cheek, doing your best to wipe away his tears. He reached his hand up and gently held your wrist, not moving your hand away from his face.

“He- he told me I needed to learn how to be the man in the relationship. That I was weak, and that I- I-” You wiped away another tear, “I needed to put you in your place.”

Your heart broke. You had ideas of what had happened in Dae-ho’s childhood. Scars that you knew didn’t come from the Marines. Times when he took a long time in the shower, where you could hear cries just barely over the sound of the water. 

He reached up and gently held onto your face, staring in your eyes as he cried “I swear to you, I will always keep you safe. We are going to be happy, and I will never let anyone hurt you or the family we’re going to have. I promise”

You nodded, and stroked his cheek again, “I know Dae-ho, you are nothing like him.”

He leaned in and kissed you, lightly, as tears streamed out of his eyes.

You got married in the church, on a cold day almost exactly a year from when you got trapped in the store in a snowstorm. Your wedding was huge, and while it wasn’t exactly what you had wanted, it was still a wonderful day. Although more than half the guests were his father’s friends and colleagues, more than enough of your friends came to celebrate the both of you.

During your engagement you had planned more than just a wedding, you planned out the next 10 or so years. You had been an obsessive planner since you were younger. It relieved your anxiety to have a path to walk on. If you saved for the next year and a half you could afford a small house on the outskirts of Seoul, it was in a military housing neighborhood for Veterans and active duty service members who had served 10 or more years. Dae-ho entered the military when he was 18, so he only had three years left until his second five-year contract expired, when he would be discharged.

After you moved into your house you would start trying to have a baby. You spent long nights talking to each other about your future. When you first seriously talked about kids Dae-ho’s whole face lit up.

“You really want to have kids. Little babies that are half you and half me.” You were laying on your back on the bed, with your head slightly propped up by a pillow, and Dae-ho was laying on his stomach, resting his head on your chest between your boobs.

“Yes Dae-ho, I thought we had already talked about this!” You giggled, twirling a short piece of hair around your finger. He grew his hair out a little bit, it was still short, but it wasn’t buzzed anymore. “Of course I want to have kids with you.”

“I just thought- I kind of thought that you weren’t sure, and were just agreeing to make me happy.” He said quietly into your chest.

“Dae-ho, that’s crazy. You know I wouldn’t lie to you, especially about something as important as that.” 

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I think I just pushed the anxiety of the thought that you were lying deep down so I didn’t have to deal with it. I was just scared. Because of…” He took a deep breath against your t-shirt, breathing in your smell to comfort himself, “after you met my dad I was scared you wouldn’t want to have kids with me. I know- I know you said I was nothing like him, but I was still nervous.”

You ran your fingers through his hair and gently tilted his head back to make eye contact, “Dae-ho, I need you to listen to me. I want to have a family with you, because I love you. When I look at you I don’t see your father’s son, I see you. I see Kang Dae-ho, the man I love, the man I choose to be with because I know how kind and gentle and loving he is.”

Dae-ho smiled, and a tear tracked down his cheek. You whispered, “so, of course I want to have a bunch of mini-yous running around.”

You hadn’t decided how many kids you wanted, knowing that no matter what you decided on now would likely change once you had a couple of little ones running around. You decided to have at least two, a boy and a girl. Even though you knew the genders weren’t something you could control at all.

Your wedding day was fantastic. Although his father only smiled when there was a camera in his face, and two of Dae-ho’s sisters’ kids threw up, it was wonderful.

And your wedding night was exactly what you had been dreaming about too. Dae-ho was kind, and soft, and gentle. You had still been scared, so much pressure was put on the moment to be perfect. And, it  was as close to perfect as it could be. It was romantic, and you felt closer to another human being than you had ever before. 

There were several bouts of laughter whenever Dae-ho would make a joke to relieve the tension. Dae-ho started crying at one point, and it made you cry too. There was so much love in this moment that it overflowed and formed tears from the both of you.

You had almost saved up enough money to buy a house when Dae-ho got a call. It had taken you longer than you had expected to save up money. You were desperately looking for a job in your field, and while you were looking you got fired from the convenience store. Your boss’ son had gotten to the age where he started working, and they needed to save money. Although you weren’t happy about it, there was nothing you could do.

After spending a month applying to any and every position you could find, nothing worked out. So, you had to go back to working at another small corner store, unfortunately, this time with less pay. It had been two years since your wedding, when Dae-ho came home excited. He was going on a trip to the countryside with his company, helping train new conscripts.

He left the next week, kissing your forehead before rushing out the door. You giggled, he acted like he was going on vacation, instead of going to a work event.

The first half of the week was normal. Dae-ho called every evening, and he dropped his voice several octaves each time. You could tell that members of his squad were always around him whenever talked louder and acted more macho on the phone.

It was late on Thursday night when you heard someone knocking at your door. You were confused as to what it could be, maybe one of your neighbors needed help with something? 

You looked through the peephole, surprised to see a man standing in a formal military uniform in the hallway. You opened it quickly, not bothering to fix your disheveled appearance.

“Are you Mrs. Kang?”

You rubbed your eyes with your hand, confused. “Yes. What is it?” “I’m here to inform you there’s been an incident involving your husband. We’ll need you to come with us.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach, “what incident? What happened?” Dae-ho was at a training camp. He was supposed to be safe. What was happening.

“There was a shooting incident at the base, he is injured, but in stable condition. We will take you to the hospital as soon as possible. It’s best for him to have a family member with him at this time.”

“Okay, let me go change really quick.” You paused, looking up at the soldier, “Do you want to come in?” He shook his head, “No thank you ma’am.” You were still in shock. You weren’t fully conscious of what your body was doing as you changed and grabbed the necessities, a toothbrush, change of clothes, and all of you and Dae-ho’s medical information.

The car ride to the airport felt fuzzy, the soldier sitting next to you not saying anything as another man drove. The airplane was more surreal. You didn’t fly very often, travelling outside of Korea was a luxury you couldn’t afford. And whenever you travelled within Korea the train’s cheaper price point far outweighed the longer time it took to travel.

It started to sink in that something very bad had happened to your husband, and the thought itself felt like your heart was being squeezed in a vice grip.

The world still felt blurry until you finally arrived at the hospital. There was a vivid sunrise in the sky over the hospital, and you could hear birds singing.

The haze only completely stopped when you were guided to his hall, and a doctor approached you. “Hello, are you Mr. Kang Dae-ho’s wife.”

“Yes, yes I am.” You snapped into focus, a complete 180 from the past couple of hours. “Your husband is alright. There was a shooting on the base and in the chaos your husband was pushed down the stairs and fell onto a table.”

You let out a sigh of relief. In the back of your mind there had been a fear that your husband was critically injured, even though the soldier had informed you that he was stable. “He received injuries to his leg, back, and groin area. We don’t perceive any long term damage, however we will be monitoring him for the next couple of days.” “Can I see my husband?” The doctor had said all you needed him to say. Whatever else happened, the only person you wanted to hear it from was Dae-ho. You needed to be there by his side, to take care of him the way you had promised his mother you would.

“Yes, of course.”

The doctor led you down the hall, and opened Dae-ho’s door. He was awake and staring out the window from his hospital bed.

“Dae-ho!” You rushed towards him.

The look on his face confused you. He almost looked guilty. “What’s wrong?”

He chuckled, the laugh sounding forced, “I fell down the stairs, I’m gonna look a little weird for a while.” He smiled at you, but you didn’t believe it’s genuinity for a second. 

You backed away from him to close the door, and then walked back to sit at his bedside. “Dae-ho, please don’t lie to me. Tell me what happened.” He looked away, and sniffled, wiping his hand under his nose to brush over it, “it’s nothing, really.”

You grabbed the other hand and squeezed it, “okay. Then tell me what it is about this ‘nothing’ that’s making you upset. I promise, no matter what it is, I’ll be here for you.”

He got quiet, and whispered, “I couldn’t help.” He sniffled again. “I woke up to the sound of gunshots, and I was running towards them. For once in my life I wasn’t being a coward. But when I reached the stairs to help, someone brushed my arm, and I fell. The person ran past me and out the door, away from the gunshots. I- I couldn’t do anything.”

You squeezed his hand again, “it was dark, and all I could hear was the sounds of bullets. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t do anything. I thought they would come and shoot me. The one time I try to do something right, the one time I try to be a real man, I fail. I failed those people, and all I could think was that I was going to die. I wanted to run, I wanted to leave, but I couldn’t move. My legs would probably work, but I was just too scared. I’m a coward”

He was crying, tears ran down his face, “Dae-ho, that wasn’t your fault. You were scared, you did what anyone else in your situation would do, no matter who they are.” You reached forward, and wiped some of the tears off his cheek.

“In the dark, I feel- I feel the same way I did. When they closed the curtains earlier today to let me sleep I was terrified. I heard the sound of footsteps in the hallway, and I wanted to run. And then the shame for wanting to run came. But I was scared. I couldn’t make myself sleep. I was so scared (y/n), I’m so sorry, I was scared, I was sca-”

You interrupted him, “Dae-ho, please don’t do this to yourself.”

He sighed, “I know, I know. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

You leaned in, and laid on his chest the way he usually lays on you, “Dae-ho, please don’t be sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’ll tell you what, I’ll lay right here, and I’ll wake you up if I need any help. I promise you, nothing bad will happen while you sleep. ”

He nodded, even though you could still hear sniffling. It took him longer than usual to get to sleep. Usually within a minute it was lights out, but you could still hear the sound of quiet sobs for at least half an hour after you rested on his chest. You didn’t say anything, you knew that all he needed right now was presence, and to rest.

The next year was difficult. You decided to place your plans on hold to help Dae-ho heal. Nights were especially hard, you would wrap yourselves around one another for comfort. Dae-ho got quieter, and it was hard for him to be out in public. Everything was too loud. 

You realized very quickly that the two things he found most difficult were the dark, and loud noises. After his company briefly tried to put him back into the position he had before, they discovered that he was incapable of doing it. The first time there was a shooting drill Dae-ho panicked and ran away. They found him in a closet crying. He had come home guilty, and you held him as he cried because of the fear and shame that you couldn’t take away no matter how hard you tried

His superiors switched him to a desk job. Although Dae-ho felt ashamed, you had to admit that it suited him better. 

You moved into your new house after Dae-ho was officially discharged. He got a job at a small office run by another Marine veteran, and his hiring bonus was just enough for the down payment.

Although a lot of things had gone wrong in the last year, you settled into a life of normalcy. You got a job working for a fruit vendor at a local market, and were able to walk to and from work every day. The pay was just as terrible as before, but the hours allowed both you and Dae-ho to be home by 5 every day.

“Honey, I’m home!” Dae-ho said in English. ever since you had watched several 90s sitcoms, Dae-ho became obsessed with the cheesy line and said it every time he came home from work.

“I’m in the kitchen!” You called out, stirring a pot of soup you had made.

“Wow, it smells fantastic.” He said, walking up to you and kissing your cheek as he looked down at the pot. “You really didn’t have to do this, I know you must be exhausted.”

“I know, I just thought we should have an extra nice meal tonight.” Dae-ho raised an eyebrow, “why tonight specifically?”

You looked down at your feet, nervous, “well, I was thinking…” You looked back up at him, “I think it’s time to start trying for a baby.”

There was silence in the room for a moment. You knew Dae-ho wanted kids, but growing anxiety brewed in your stomach that maybe he wasn’t ready, or maybe the incident had changed his mind.

All that doubt was squashed when Dae-ho’s face erupted into the largest smile you had ever seen. He picked you up in both of his arms and started shouting “Yes, yes, yes! I’ve been waiting for this!”

He peppered kisses all over your face, and laughed heartily, “what do you mean you’ve been waiting for me?” You giggled, realizing that there wasn’t a hesitant bone in his body.

“Well, I mean that it’s your body. I didn’t want to pressure you. I figured that you would ask when you were ready.” The sentiment warmed your heart, and even though you didn’t think it was possible, made you even more sure you wanted this man to be the father of your child.

You kissed his forehead, “that might have been the sweetest thing you’ve ever said.” Dae-ho kissed you on the lips, and started walking towards the bedroom with you still in his arms. “Dae-ho! My soup.”

He pouted, but put you down. “After dinner.” You said, giggling.

“After a delicious dinner, I’ll have an even tastier treat.” You laughed, hitting him on the arm.

“Dae-ho, your mind is so dirty!” He laughed in response.

Your dinner was as delicious as you knew it would be, and your night was even better.

Planning was your strong suit. You had researched everything that would increase your chances at having a baby. You knew what you could, and couldn’t afford. Your budget fit raising kids, but there was no way you could afford IVF or any expensive medication anytime soon. You got a bunch of vitamins for the both of you, strictly tracked your ovulation cycle, and made a list of things you and Dae-ho couldn’t do to increase your chances of conceiving. No drinking, no eating certain foods, and an hour of exercise every day. You begrudged the lists. You only did all the things to increase your chances, but Dae-ho did everything enthusiastically. He was excited to take all the vitamins and eat all the special foods, and go on the nightly runs you had decided to do together after dinner. To him, it was another part of the exciting process of having a baby. To you, it was the torture you had to endure to get the greatest reward.

A lot of couples got pregnant quickly after trying. The year anniversary of the day you started trying, you started to get nervous. A year was abnormal

“Dae-ho, do you think something is wrong?” You asked him as you laid in bed one night.

“No, these things happen. It just takes longer for some people than others.” He kissed your shoulder as you spooned, and quickly went back to sleep. You stayed up longer, fearful about the possibility that something could be wrong.

A year and a half is when Dae-ho started to get anxious too. He did his best to hide it from you, but there were moments where you could feel his worry lingering in the air. Dae-ho’s sleep had gotten better. He would have nightmares, but he never had any trouble falling asleep. That changed when he started to worry about why you weren’t pregnant yet. He would hold you tight to his chest in the middle of the night, and you could hear his steady breathing for a much longer time than usual while you tried to fall asleep.

After two years, you made an appointment with a fertility doctor. It was expensive, so you wanted to postpone spending a lot of money on doctors as long as possible, but it became unavoidable. Whenever you had dinner with Dae-ho’s family you would both stare sadly at all of the nieces and nephews running around. 

Both of his parents would poke and prod and ask you when you were having kids. His mother in a kind, empathetic way, asking you dozens of probing details in her excitement of being a grandma again. As soon as you started trying for a baby, Dae-ho called her. He was giddy and excited on the phone, and they were both deeply enthusiastic. 

His father was different, and he got worse the longer it had been since you had started trying. He blamed Dae-ho for the fact that you didn’t have kids yet. He would always demand to know if you were pregnant yet. And Dae-ho would be forced to say that no, you weren’t. He would then call Dae-ho weak and tell him that he needed to “do better,” even though you being pregnant or not wasn’t something either of you had any control over once you had started doing everything you needed to to increase your chances..

But the biggest reason for you going to the fertility doctor, was that you both just really wanted to have kids. You would rub your belly absentmindedly during the day, and Dae-ho would quickly glance away each time you caught him looking. Your house was the same as it always had been, but with each negative pregnancy test it felt emptier. Quiet with the lack of pitter-patters from children’s little feet on the wooden floors.

You made an appointment early in the morning on Monday, before either of your shifts started. Dae-ho rested his hand on your thigh as you sat in the waiting room, his knee bouncing up and down at a rapid pace. “Dae-ho, it’s going to be okay.” You said, trying to convince yourself as well.

He smiled back at you, but you could see that you both had the same anxiety, “I know.”

They called your name, and you went into a middle-aged doctor’s office. “Hello, my name is Dr. Kim. Can I get a complete history from both of you.”

She had your medical files in front of her, and asked a dozen other questions to fill in any gaps. How often you had sex, what vitamins you were taking, what your diet was. 

“Well, you’re doing what you're supposed to, the next step is to do some tests to see if there are any medical reasons you haven’t successfully conceived yet.” She confirmed what you already knew, you were doing everything right. In the back of your mind you had hoped that you had missed something. You were taking the wrong vitamins, or eating the wrong foods. “And how long have you said you’ve been trying to get pregnant?” “Two years.” You said quietly.

She continued to tap on her keyboard, “it is possible that you’ve just been unlucky, and that there is nothing unusual medically. However, two years of trying without conceiving is abnormal, so these tests will be necessary to give us a comprehensive view of any factors contributing to your unsuccessful attempts at conception.’

“Mr. Kang, we will need you to give a sperm sample. A sperm sample is the only test needed to rule out male infertility. Mrs. Kang, there are several tests we need to do to see if there is anything on your part preventing you from getting pregnant. Today we will get a blood sample, and schedule other tests today for later if neither of your results have any abnormalities.”

You nodded. The entire situation was deeply uncomfortable. You didn’t want this to be part of your journey to parenthood, you wanted to be like everyone else. Romantic, and in a warmly lit bedroom instead of in a white doctor’s office. 

“What do I need to do for a sperm sample?” 

The doctor looked slightly confused, “well, we have a special room with some… material… to help you ejaculate into a cup. Then we send the sample to our lab to run tests, like sperm count and sperm quality.”

Dae-ho tilted his head like a confused puppy, “what do you mean by material?”

She looked incredibly uncomfortable, but you could tell that Dae-ho was truly confused and not trying to put the doctor in an awkward position. You grasped his arm, “she means porn, Honey.”

Dae-ho’s jaw dropped and he shook his head “Oh no, I don’t need any porn, I have my wife.”

The doctor quickly interjected, “sir, your wife cannot come with you.”

Dae-ho blushed, “oh yeah, of course sorry.”

The whole situation was almost amusing. The doctor’s panicked face and Dae-ho’s embarrassed expression. But you didn’t have the energy to find it funny, you were too scared. 

Dae-ho left for his tests, but stopped to kiss you before he left. “Goodluck, I love you.” You smiled, “You’ve got this Dae-ho, I love you too.”

The week after your doctor’s appointment was normal . You went to work, came home, then ate dinner together and fell asleep in bed next to one another. But there was anxiety under the surface. There were more silent pauses where both of you were too preoccupied with your thoughts to say anything, and you both stayed awake long after you turned off the lights in bed. Dae-ho slept with his hand on your stomach, and his hand was clammy with the same fear you were feeling.

You got a call on Friday afternoon, “Mr. and Mrs. Kang, could we schedule a meeting next week to go over your test results?” “Yes, the doctor said we should schedule some more tests, can I do that now?”

There was a pause on the other line, “Dr. Kim doesn’t think that is necessary at this time.”

Your heart dropped. They had found something wrong. You knew it. That was the only reason they didn’t need to test anything else. They had already found the problem.

Dae-ho came home half an hour later, and you were laying in bed on your side with the curtains drawn, crying. “Honey, I’m home!”

You couldn’t call out to him. You knew the statistics, it was almost always the woman’s. You were too ashamed to face him, knowing that you were the reason you and Dae-ho couldn’t have the one thing you wanted more than anything else in the world- a family.

 “(Y/n)! Where are you?”

Dae-ho rushed through your small house, desperately looking for you everywhere. You heard the footsteps stop when he reached the bedroom. He was standing in the doorway when he saw your figure laying in bed. “(Y/n), what’s wrong.” He quietly approached you, walking around the bed to kneel down in front of you, reaching up to gently wipe your tears away. 

“I- I got a call from the doctor. They got the results back and wanted to set up an appointment.” His face looked concerned, but he stayed quiet as he waited for you to continue, “I think- I think somethings wrong with me. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I failed you.”

The tears started to come stronger. You felt like you couldn’t do anything right. You couldn’t get a job, couldn’t fix your husband’s trauma, and now you couldn’t do the thing you were made for as a woman.

“(Y/n), look at me,” he stroked your hair out of your eyes, “this is not your fault. We don’t know yet, and even if there is something about your body that makes it hard to have a baby, it isn’t your fault. It’s not something you have any control over. It’ll be okay, I promise. I love you.”

He kissed you gently on your forehead. You could tell that he was also hurt by the reality that there was likely something stopping you from being able to get pregnant, but instead he focused on you. It was so sweet, and so very Dae-ho.

He made you dinner, and you ate in bed before going to sleep with your arms wrapped around one another.

Your appointment was at the same time as the one last week. You were glad they could fit you in so early, as the anticipation was killing you. You nervously entered into Dr. Kim’s office, where she was sitting with papers in front of her that you could only assume were test results. 

There was no beating around the bush. Once you sat down, Dr. Kim began to talk. “I’m glad that you were available so soon. I have looked over both of your results.”

You and Dae-ho squeezed each other's hands, hoping and praying for good news.

“Mrs. Kang, I have looked over your results and I’ve found nothing abnormal with your bloodwork.” You let out a sigh of relief.

She turned to look at Dae-ho, “I looked over your past medical history, Mr. Kang, and I noticed that 3 years ago you sustained an injury to your groin while you were in the military.” You Dae-ho’s hand gripped yours tighter, and your breath sped up. “Your sperm count was very low, and I believe that your past injury may have caused or contributed to that.”

You listened intently to the doctor, but Dae-ho was completely unaware of anything else she was saying. He was solely focusing on how it was his fault, and that he was the reason your dreams couldn’t come true.

“Of course we’ll need to do some testing, but this is the most likely conclusion considering that you have had a normal sex life and no other symptoms. I’ll write a referral to the urologist, and I suggest you go in for a consultation.” She wrote on a slip of a paper, and handed you a physical copy of the referral.

“Thank you, Dr. Kim.” You didn’t know what else to say. Dae-ho wasn’t responding, he was staring off into the distance, and you had to lead him out of the room.

Before you exited the room, Dr. Kim spoke up, “Mr and Mrs Kang?”

Dae-ho stayed facing forward, but you turned to face the doctor, “I truly am sorry, and I wish you the best.”

You nodded, and left, leading Dae-ho out beside you. Dae-ho didn’t respond during the ride home. You didn’t talk to him. Nothing you could say would make him feel better, you just needed to get home and then maybe you would be able to comfort each other.

Dae-ho walked to the bathroom as soon as you got home. You didn’t stop him, and sat down on the couch staring into space.

You heard crashing from the bathroom, and ran in to see Dae-ho throwing the vitamin bottles on the ground. “It’s bullshit, it’s all bullshit!” 

The next bottle he threw down was glass, and it shattered into a million little pieces on the ground, “Dae-ho, stop!” You grabbed his arm to stop him from throwing another bottle. That seemed to snap him out of his daze. 

He started crying, and you pulled his head down to nuzzle into your chest. You wrapped your arms around him, and started stroking his back. “It’s my fault, it’s all my fault.” You quietly shushed him, and ran your fingers through his hair. “Shh, Shh, it’s not your fault.”

“Yes, it is,” he sobbed, “I was the one who couldn’t do anything, I’m a fucking marine and I got pushed down the stairs and laid there like a coward. I’m the one whose fault it is that we can't have a baby.”

“Dae-ho, we don’t know anything for sure. We’ll go to the urologist and see if they can help us.” You gently pulled his head back to look into his eyes, the same way he did when you thought it was your body causing your infertility, “but even if we can’t have kids, I want you to know that this isn’t on you. Everything you said to me, about how it isn’t my fault and how no matter what it’ll be okay, is true.”

The sad look in his eyes showed that he didn’t believe you. You sighed, “let’s get out of here, you should go lay in bed and I’ll make us something to eat. Be careful when you step, I’ll clean up the glass in a second.” Dae-ho pulled away, “no, I failed as a father, I will not fail as a husband. I’ll take care of it.” You grabbed his shoulders when he tried to move away, “listen to me. The only difference between us is the name “husband” versus the name “wife.” Our job is to take care of each other. When I need you, you take care of me. And now, it’s my turn to return the favor.”

He nodded apprehensively. You could tell that he had some hold-ups, but he didn’t argue with you. You both knew this about your marriage, but everything his father had told him was hard to deprogram.

You made a stew, and cleaned up the glass while it was simmering. Before you entered your bedroom, you heard Dae-ho talking. You stopped outside the door.

“I promise you, it will all be okay. Your daddy is going to make sure you will get to see this whole beautiful world.” Concerned, you opened the door. Dae-ho was sitting in the bed holding a onesie that his mother had given him after you told her you had started trying.

“Hey.” You said, walking towards him and handing him the bowl.

“Hey.”

He ate a spoonful of the soup and then took a deep breath, “I’m so sorry that I messed up our plans.”

“Dae-ho-” You interrupted, but he held up his hand to signify that he wanted to finish his thought.

“I know you don’t blame me. But I can’t help the way I feel. I know- I know everything you’re going to say and everything you’re thinking, and I’m sorry but I- I just can’t believe you right now. I’ll only be able to when we have everything figured out. I’m sorry, that's just- that’s just what I need.”

Your heart broke, but you knew his words to be true. There was nothing you could say to change how he felt. “Okay. But if you know what I’m thinking, then you know that I mean it when I tell you that everything is going to be alright. I promise you I would never lie to you Dae-ho.”

He smiled at you, with tears still glimmering in his eyes, “okay, I believe you.”

Dae-ho scheduled an appointment in the afternoon later in the week. It was in the middle of the work day, but it was either that or waiting over a month. “I’ll take off work to go with you.”

“(Y/n), it’s fine. I promise.” 

You objected again, talking with your mouthful as you ate a bite of oatmeal, “Dae-ho really, it’s okay.”

He paused, and looked at you, “to be honest, I want to do this by myself. I just- I don’t think I can take it if there’s something seriously wrong and you’re there. I wouldn’t be able to handle it if I got bad news and had to look at you, I think it would kill me.”

You were silent, “okay, but if you need me, please, please just call.”

He reached over and squeezed your hand, “of course. You trust me, right?”

You squeezed his hand back, completely sure of what you were about to say, “always.”

Dae-ho didn’t call you during the day, but you called him several times. You were beginning to get worried, and told your boss that you had to leave early. She understood, and the second she said you could go, you ran towards your house.

You weren’t sure what to expect. Maybe an empty house, maybe an emptied liquor cabinet if there was bad news. What you weren’t expecting was for Dae-ho to be sitting cross legged on the ground in front of your table, with papers completely covering the wood.

“Dae-ho what’s going on? I was terrified!” You plunked your bag down on the ground.

He looked up at you, surprised to see you, “(Y/n), what’re you doing home?” “I’m only home an hour early. Did you not see my calls? I’ve been trying to reach you all day!” You said, exasperated but relieved to see he was okay.

He reached down to look at his phone, and then looked back up at you guiltily. He said quietly, “oh, sorry. I’ve been so focused I didn’t realize.”

You sat down next to him, looking over the papers to try and make sense of what they were.

Before you could understand, he grabbed your shoulders to turn you to face him. “I did all the tests, and- and it’s a lot of news.” You were concerned, he didn’t usually react like when he found out important things. And he certainly didn’t react like after your last visit to the fertility doctor. “They can fix it. We can have a baby!” 

Your eyes lit up, and without realizing it happy tears began to leak out of your eyes. Before you could fully celebrate you had to stop yourself. “But then, what is this?”

“It’s expensive, it’s really expensive. But I- I did all the math and I think- I think we can do it.”

There were so many emotions swirling around in your head. Fear of the cost, fear of the future, but Dae-ho brought you back down to earth. “I know, I know. But (Y/n), it’ll be okay.” 

You believed him, you would always believe him.

He smiled a big smile you hadn’t seen in a long smile, and he quickly pulled you into a hug. He pressed kisses all over your head, and finally, finally you allowed yourself to feel completely hopeful again.

You did another set of tests to make sure that you didn’t have any conditions yourself that would affect your fertility. Sure enough, all of your results came back squeaky clean.

Dae-ho’s treatment was going to cost a lot. The initial appointments you two had scheduled had cost over a thousand dollars.

Dae-ho’s surgery was over 10 thousand dollars. Your mortgage was high, and since it was still the early years of owning your house you wanted to pay as much as possible before interest tripled the original cost of your house. The conclusion that you reached was that you could afford the surgery in two years. 

It was a bittersweet feeling, on one hand you were heartbroken that you had to wait longer, but a finish line made the pain easier. Finally, there was certainty. You circled the day when you would schedule the surgery for, and every morning you would look at the calendar to remind yourself what you were working so hard for.

Your house didn’t feel so empty anymore. The silence was still hard to deal with sometimes, but you and Dae-ho busied yourselves with buying baby clothes, and picking out things for the nursery. Both of you were happier, even though you could tell that Dae-ho still had a lingering guilt because of his condition.

In the week before the surgery you felt yourself buzzing with excitement. It felt like you were walking on air. Dae-ho was so enthusiastic that every day when he came home he would run to you, swoop you up in his arms and laugh as he kissed your face. It became the highlight of your day.

Most of the time people were nervous on the morning of a surgery. But not you and Dae-ho. The drive to the clinic was filled with laughter and loud music. Everything was finally going according to plan.

Right before Dae-ho went into surgery pulled you into a hug and whispered into your ear, “this is it, the rest of our life starts now.” 

You squeezed him in the hug and smiled, and he waved goodbye as he walked into the room where he would get prepped for surgery. The longer he was in the operating room, the more nervous you got. You knew that the surgery would probably take an hour or an hour and a half, but as the time approached and passed that mark your anxiety grew. Finally, after two hours, the doctor came back.

You stood up excitedly, ready to hear the good news.

“I’m sorry Mrs. Kang, the damage was more extensive than we initially thought. We weren’t able to perform the surgery.” Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t handle this. You had kept it in for so long, had done everything right, had waited patiently only to have it end with even more bad news. 

You couldn’t stop yourself. You ran over to the trash can and threw up your breakfast, overwhelmed with the grief of your hopes and dreams yet again being crushed.

Sitting in the waiting room, you felt broken. Your cheeks were wet and all you could do was stare straight ahead as you waited for them to bring Dae-ho out of surgery. It was an outpatient surgery, which meant that he would go home after. You were glad at first, because it would save money, but now you were dreading having to go back to the empty house together. You didn’t want him to see your pain and think for even a second that you blamed him.

Dae-ho was wheeled out, and you felt another piece of your heart break off when you saw the look on his face. “Dae-ho.”

He looked up at you with his big puppy-dog eyes, “Let’s go home. Can we please just go home.”

You were growing accustomed to heartbroken silent drives. Dae-ho made to leave the car when you got home, but you locked the door. You couldn’t deal with either of you having a breakdown once you were inside your house.

“Can we talk, please?” You begged.

“I’m sorry. I just- I had so much hope that this nightmare would be over, but it just keeps going.”

You looked over at him. “It’s not over. We’re not done. Please don’t give up. Please. It’ll be okay, I promise.” You pleaded.

Dae-ho finally looked back over to you, “okay. Okay.” He took a deep shaky breath, “we’ll keep trying. The Kangs aren’t quitters.” He said with a light chuckle, bringing a smile to your face.

The next week you went back to your doctor. “Unfortunately it looks like our only alternative is to do sperm removal followed by IVF.” He paused, looking at a list of personal information, “your financial situation would make this procedure very difficult, I hate to say this, but have you considered adoption?” Your heartbeat spiked, “yes, my husband is a Marine Corps veteran diagnosed with PTSD, we aren’t considered candidates.” You had been through all of this years ago. Early on you had looked into adoption. Before you had even tried to get pregnant naturally. Both you and Dae-ho wanted to help a child without a home and add them to your little family of Kangs. You were shocked to find out that because of Dae-ho’s PTSD you couldn’t adopt. He had nightmares and was afraid of loud noises and the dark, but there was nothing about his PTSD that would make him a bad father. But, for some reason a little note on his discharge papers crossed out one of your options.

“Okay, well the procedure will be expensive, but IVF for healthy women under the age of 35 has an over 50% success rate.”

Once you got home Dae-ho pulled you into a hug the second you crossed the threshold. “We’ll make this happen, I promise you.”

You burrowed your head into his chest and mumbled, “I know, I know. I believe you.”

And so the cycle started again. It was another two years before you saved up enough money.

You both had surgery on the same day, and watched with delight as the doctor showed you the embryos after they had medically joined your egg and Dae-ho’s sperm. Tears streamed down your face as you saw what would become your baby on the screen. You never knew you could feel so attached to a couple of small dots, but here you were. The doctor gave you a print out, something they didn’t usually do but Dae-ho begged for, and went home. Your appointment was scheduled for the next week, it was the happiest week you had in years. You and Dae-ho went on long walks every night, you got dinner with his sisters and your friends. It was fantastic, and the night before the implantation you stayed up late and talked about baby names for hours.

Everything finally went to plan. The implantation went smoothly, and three weeks later when you and Dae-ho were sitting in the bathroom together, there were so many emotions buzzing in the air it felt electric.

“I’m going to turn it over.”

“Okay.” Dae-ho was pressing his hands together and praying, something he almost never did.

You screamed, “oh my God!” 

Dae-ho jumped up and grabbed the stick out of your hand. A pink plus sign. 

Dae-ho shouted out in joy and wrapped his arms around you and started jumping up and down. Dae-ho then paused and sunk down to his knees, pressing his head against your belly.

You stilled as he pulled your shirt up and put his forehead against your stomach. You could feel wet tears on your belly. “Hello baby.” He whispered, “this is your daddy, me and your mommy love you so much and we are going to take such good care of you, I promise.”

Your heart felt full. Finally, you and your husband had a family. You were a mother, and Dae-ho was a father. The next six months were the happiest of your life. Dae-ho completely assimilated into his role as a father. He painted your baby’s room a pale yellow, and him and his mother picked out more baby clothes than your child could possibly wear.

He had a copy of every ultrasound photo in his wallet, in chronological order. There were so many of them that the wallet started to bulge with all the extra paper.

You were just as ecstatic as him. When you and Dae-ho were cuddling, he would reach around from his spot as the big spoon to rest his hand on your belly. You would draw circles next to it, and whisper to your baby, “it’s your mom. You know, before you and your dad were in my life I felt lost. And now, I’m happy about every step I’ve taken. It led me right here. Thank you little baby, mom loves you.” It was too early in your pregnancy for the baby to hear you, so you giggled to yourself before drifting off to sleep.

The only time you had ever seen Dae-ho’s father proud was when Dae-ho excitedly shouted, “we’re pregnant!” Three minutes after entering their house, unable to hold in his excitement for a moment longer. 

Although you did hear his dad mutter “took you long enough” under his breath, his mother’s unapologetic excitement made up for it. Before you knew it you had five knitted baby hats and five knitted baby socks in the top drawer of your dresser.

Dae-ho would excitedly shout “we’re pregnant!” Whenever anyone would so much as glance at your baby bump. Most of the time it annoyed you to no end when fathers would say, “we’re pregnant,” while their wives were the only ones actually doing any work. But in Dae-ho’s case you think he earned it. He did all of the chores, prepared dinner for the next day the night before, and treated you like a queen. Besides, he looked so cute every time he said it.

Your pregnancy was easier than you could have ever imagined, even in your wildest dreams. You had no morning sickness, very little fatigue, and your baby hit all of their milestones early. You decided not to figure out if it was a boy or girl until they were born, and so your baby was affectionately nicknamed “little Dae” during your pregnancy.

Truly, you had never been happier.

Dae-ho came home with take-out at the usual time. You liked to eat healthy, but it was Friday night and you agreed to have a little treat at the start of every weekend.

“Honey, I’m home!” Dae-ho called out. No response.

“(Y/n), where are you?” You had to be at home, either you or your boss would have called him if you had to stay late.

He walked through the house, finally stopping in front of the bathroom door. Dae-ho shakily opened it, and upon seeing the scene inside, immediately rushed to you.

You were laying on the floor of the bathroom, unconscious and surrounded by blood. He rushed into action, he had run scenarios of every possible nightmare scenario that could happen the second you got pregnant but it didn’t even come close to preparing him for this.

He picked you up and ran to the car. Dae-ho didn’t remember the drive to the hospital. Every other second he would glance at you lying unconscious in the passenger seat as he sped through the streets of Seoul.

The hospital parking lot was full so Dae-ho parked illegally. He picked you up in both arms and rushed you into the ER, not bothering to turn off the ignition.

The staff jumped up the second they saw you, and quickly tore you out of his hands. A doctor quickly noticed your baby bump and asked you if you had any previous pregnancy complications. He shook his head, and before he could react they were rushing you away from him. He tried to race after you, but two orderlies held him back. Once he couldn’t see you anymore, he collapsed to his feet sobbing.

Dae-ho was hyper aware of everything going on around him. Every beep, every footstep, everything. A doctor came out and questioned him on your medical history. He had it memorized.

It felt like forever before the doctor came out. 

“Mr. Kang?”

Dae-ho immediately stood up and nodded, “your wife experienced something called placental abruption. It’s when the placenta detaches from the uterus. Due to the severity, we performed an emergency C-section.”

“Emergency C-section?” Dae-ho blurted out, “no, it’s too early.”

The doctor sighed, “Yes, 25 weeks is very early, however it was our best option.”

“How are they?” The doctor was talking too slowly, Dae-ho needed answers now.

“Your wife’s placental abruption was very severe, and there were significant complications. She’s very weak, and will have to stay in the ICU. She will need further surgery to try and fix the damage, but due to the amount of blood loss we couldn’t continue the surgery longer.” Dae-ho felt like there was a weight crushing his chest. He couldn’t breathe, “and- and the baby.” He was scared to ask. He didn’t know if he could live if his child died, and he knew he couldn’t if you left him.

“He’s in the NICU, I’m going to be honest with you, premies this size struggle, but we will do everything we can and if he begins to improve, his outlook is very good.” 

His son. His son. He had a little baby somewhere in the hospital, all alone and by himself, without his mother to take care of him. Completely new to the world. “Can I- can I-” The words didn’t come out, but the doctor seemed to understand.

“Yes, of course. Due to disease risk you can’t visit for long and will have to wear sterile clothing, but you can visit briefly.” 

Dae-ho didn’t have to decide which of you to see first. He had to see his son. He knew you, and he knew that you loved your baby more than anything. You wouldn’t want him to be alone right now. A nurse put a set of scrubs on Dae-ho, and then he was ready to enter the room. He had a face mask, a cap, and gloves on, and there were booties on his feet.

As soon as the automatic door slid open, time stopped. There were several babies in the room, but Dae-ho’s eyes quickly found the one that said “Baby Kang.” His feet moved without realizing it, and before he knew it was standing in front of the incubator.

His son was so small. He was tiny. There were wires everywhere and his skin was bright red. But even then Dae-ho could still see his tiny chest rise and fall slowly. Dae-ho started crying and it was one of the only times in his life where he felt no shame for breaking down. The tiny infant in front of him was perfect.

“Sir, you can reach your hand in to gently touch his arm.”

Shaking, Dae-ho reached his hand into the incubator. A wave of emotions passed over him when the baby grabbed onto his finger. The tiny baby held on for dear life.

Dae-ho waited as long as he could, standing, staring at his baby boy until the nurse told him he needed to leave before the risk of viral infection became too high.

The nurse led him to your room. You were laying in a hospital bed with a million tubes attached to your body. You were unconscious with a tube pushed down your throat, with tape over your eyes to prevent them from getting dry.

He reached towards your hands, and took your gloved ones in his.

“(Y/n). He’s perfect. He’s so perfect, and I can just- I can just tell he’s a fighter. He’s so strong, just like his mommy. He- he loves you, and we- we need you to hold on.” He was crying, wetting the mask over his nose, “I’m so proud of you, of both of you. I need you so much, please I just-” 

He started sobbing. There were no words able to express everything he felt, and everything he wanted to say. All he could do was cry.

For the second time that day, he was kicked out of a hospital room. “Can I- can I stay?” He pleaded to the nurse.

She sighed, “you can stay in the NICU waiting room overnight. But, I recommend you go home first.” She motioned to the plain scrubs he had been given to change out of his blood-soaked ones. “If you have any baby things collected yet, you should get them. Also, bring any insurance information and medical records for your wife, and some comfort items for both of you if she wakes up.” The word if stabbed him in the heart, but he nodded. 

Dae-ho didn’t want to leave either of your sides, but he had no choice. His parents were visiting one of his sisters in the countryside, and the majority of your friend group were at a wedding in Jeju that you couldn’t go to due to saving money for the baby.

Dae-ho was determined to get from home to back as quickly as possible. Once he got to the parking lot, he clicked his car keys several times. He didn’t remember where he parked, he was in too much of a rush to get inside when he arrived at the hospital. Dae-ho walked around the entire parking lot looking for the car, before going back inside to check with the front-desk woman.

“Hello, ma’am, I came in with my wife and I- I can’t find my car.” He said, his tone of voice exactly reflecting his feelings.

The woman looked up, “okay, we have cameras in the parking lot, what is the make and model?” 

He gave the information to her, and when she came back from a room he assumed held the security cameras, she had visibly paled.

“I’m so sorry sir, I checked the cameras. It appears as if you left the car door open and the vehicle was stolen. I can call the police and we can see what they can do.” She said apologetically.

“No, I can- let’s just do that later okay.” Dae-ho turned around and walked out the front door. He had no energy left. 

Dae-ho walked to a subway station next to the hospital, and jumped over the turnstile. He knew his way around the subway station. In his early 20s he didn’t have a car, and had familiarized himself with the city’s subway stations. If anyone confronted him about not paying, he knew they would quickly back down once they heard why.

Dae-ho sat down on a bench in front of the train that would take him home, and put his head in his hands.

“Excuse me sir, would you like to play a game?” Dae-ho looked up to see a tall man in a well-pressed suit staring down at him. “No.” Dae-ho snapped, looking back down at the floor.

The man sat down next to him. “Do you know how to play Ddakji?”

Dae-ho scooted slightly away from the man, determined to ignore him. 

“If you play with me I will let you in on a-”

“Listen here sir, I don’t know you and I do not want to play a game. Please leave me alone.” Dae-ho said, looking the man in the eye, trying to deter him. The man let out a slight chuckle, “not even for 100,000 won?”

Dae-ho wanted to say no, but he couldn’t. The thought of the cost of all your medical treatments was something he hadn’t thought about yet. It was so far less than his fear for both of your lives that the thought of paying medical bills hadn’t come close to entering his thoughts before now. He had heard stories of friends-of-friends dying or going bankrupt because of hospital bills. He was horrified of the same thing happening to you or the baby. He would do whatever it took to save you, borrow millions of dollars from loan sharks, work 20 hours a day, he wouldn’t let anything happen to you. It was a potential he couldn’t confront. He wouldn’t let you die, but what would he do even if he could get the money? You would be destitute, and his child growing up in poverty was a thought that horrified him. As much as he hated it, a short game with a crazy man would be worth it if it could help prevent that possibility. 

“What’s the catch?” Dae-ho was desperate, not stupid.

“Well, if I win, I give you 100,000 won. If you win, you give me the same, simple as that.” The man responded, his smile not quite reaching his eyes..

“I don’t have 100,000 won.” Dae-ho didn’t care about embarrassing himself in front of strangers on the subway, he had much bigger things to worry about.

The man sighed, “okay, you can pay with your body instead if you’d like,” Dae-ho raised an eyebrow and turned back away from the man with a scoff. The man chuckled again, “no no, not like that. Let’s just say, I take off 100,000 won for every loss. Sound fair?”

Dae-ho felt humiliated. But he couldn’t fail you. He couldn’t fail you over something as stupid as a slap in a children’s game. So he nodded.

The man opened up his briefcase and held out the two pieces, “blue or red?”

By his fourth attempt Dae-ho’s face was red and hurting. With every round he got more and more frustrated, shouting out obscenities after every slap. On the fifth attempt he finally won. Dae-ho shouted out, and with his victory the man handed him two 50,000 won notes.

Dae-ho was ready to walk away and forget the strange event that just happened, when the man spoke. “Kang Dae-ho.”

He turned around, “how the fuck do you know my name?” Dae-ho didn’t consider himself a violent man, but he turned around and walked to stand directly in front of his face.

The man chuckled, “you are 34 years old. You’ve been married for 9 years and you and your wife have been trying to have a baby for 6 of them. Yesterday, your wife went to the hospital at 25 weeks with an emergency C-section.”

“Fuck you,” Dae-ho threw a punch at the man, who caught it.

“If your child and wife receive all the treatment they need to survive, you will have to pay about  750 million won.” The man smiled, “which is far more than you can afford. You will be destitute if you can get the money. And if not- well… then I guess we know what’ll happen.”

“Why the fuck are you saying this to me?” Tears burned behind Dae-ho’s eyes, threatening to break free.

The man handed Dae-ho a business card with three shapes on it. “Call this number, my organization could help you.”

Just at that moment Dae-ho’s train came, and the man let his arm go to let Dae-ho stumble away. As he sat down on the subway Dae-ho pulled out his wallet. He took out the first ultrasound photo. The first image he ever saw of his baby. You both started bawling once you saw the tiny baby on the screen, and heard the quiet steady beat of your baby’s heartbeat over the monitor.

Dae-ho started crying in his seat on the train. He had dreamed for his entire life about what it would be like to be happy. Truly happy, away from his father’s judgement, away from the military, away from all the pain in his life. And finally, finally it had happened.

His life was beyond his wildest fantasies. He was married to the most wonderful woman in the world, and was going to be a father. You and his son were the greatest things on the planet. You were lovely and kind, and your baby had to be just as lovely and kind as you. And the two of you were somehow his, somehow his family. And then everything fell apart. He had to save you, had to fulfill the promise he had given you so long ago. That it’ll be okay.

“I promise you, daddy is going to take care of you. I’ll see you soon and then you, me and mommy will be okay.” Dae-ho kissed the ultrasound photo, then pulled out his phone and dialed the number on the card.

This took so long I don't think you understand 😭. I'm not sure how regular I will be able to write, my second semester started halfway through writing this fic and I am so crazy busy that I have almost no free time. My writing has a lot of medical stuff in general because that is my other interest besides writing (#womeninstem lol) I think I'm starting to really find my voice in writing, and it a pretty raw and realistic style. Have a good day, drink water and get sleep :)

[thatguyjam]

Divers + Wags with Male!Tattoo Artist!Reader

Headcannons

Tattoo artists tend to have a lot of tattoos, so these headcannons operate on that assumption

A/N: Guys I haven't written about Lily Zneimer in a week. I'm in heavy withdrawal.

Oscar + Lily

Oscar isn't very vocal about his love of your tattoos, but rest assured, he never stops thinking about them

Lily also isn't very vocal about your tattoos, but she's always looking at them

When it's just the three of you, they'll both be more vocal about it

They'll pin you down on the bed and just ooh and awe about them as if you aren't even there

Lily is open of get some small tattoos, as long as you are the one who does them

Oscar keeps changing his mind on what he wants

One day he wants a sleeve, another he just wants matching couple tattoos, and another day he wants a tattoo like Fernando's samurai back tattoo

Max + Kelly

Probably ended up accidentally encouraging a drunk max to get tattoos

You never tattoo him while he's drunk, but he ends up with a steadfast determination to get you to tattoo him when he's sober

Kelly can't because of her job, but she'll brainstorm with Max for fun ideas that he won't regret

He ends up getting the Barcelona and Zandvoort tracks, along with a small star for each of his championships

He doesn't tell anyone about these besides you and Kelly, but whenever he thinks of them he smiles

If your tattoos aren't colored, Penelope will color them in with washable markers whenever you are over

Especially when she was younger, but she still does it

Kelly ends up managing to get small tattoos on her hip for you, P, Max, and their new baby

Charles + Alex

Charles finds your tattoos very hot

Alex likes them, but Charles drools over them

When they first saw you, your tattoos were definitely one of the main reasons you caught their eye

When they were flirting with you, they got small couples tattoos to spend more time with you

When you joined their relationship, you got another matching one

Like Alex = moon, Charles = sun, you = stars

Every time you get new tattoos done, they make sure you take perfect care of them

Even though you're literally an expert, they just enjoy pampering you with skin care

And maybe keeping you shirtless whenever you get back/chest tattoos

Alex + Lily

They, unlike Oscar and Lily, are very Vocal about their love of your tattoos

They first say you at one of Lily's golf tournaments, and seeing your tattooed arms in a polo shirt made them instantly fall head over heels

Witnessing them attempt to flirt with who they perceived to be the hottest man they had ever seen in their lives was truly a treat

You had also fallen for their antics instantly, but hadn't given in so soon, just so they would keep being so cute and flirting

After just five dates they instantly demanded that you tattoo them

They got matching tattoos with each other first, Lily and F1 car, and Alex a golf club, but they got you to tattoo something relevant to you onto them as well soon enough, and you ended up with a golf club and F1 car yourself

Valtteri + Tiffany

Valtteri always tries to goad you into taking more clothes off by saying he wants to look at your tattoos

You did his What's Next tattoo

You and Tiffany have matching ones

Valtteri loves tracing your tattoos with his fingers when he's half asleep

He claims it helps him sleep

You're pretty sure he's just obsessed with you

Tiffany calls you rabbits but you catch her staring at your tattoos just as much at Valtteri traces them

Valtteri is extremely tempted to just get full sleeves of tattoos, says it would match his brand, but has to wait to retire for that many tattoos

He is now pretty exited for retirement

Or at least the next winter break

Taglist: (comment or DM to be added)

@koalapastries @justaf1girl

[daylighted]

the girl behind the wheel . . . dean winchester & reader !

summary. the last thing dean expected was for his car to disappear & in its place, you to be left. he also never expected to have to worry, still, about you getting stolen. warnings. men r pigs!! sequel to this ask !

it's not like you asked to be made into a human or anything. dean seemed to operate on that idea, though, that this was all your choice. he looked at you with pure grief in his eyes, and something that seemed much more akin to exasperation than the unwilling reluctance you thought he was beginning to fall into.

"i have to get a new car." he's openly, dramatically, pouting.

you shrug. his jacket has now become your jacket, because shoplifting clothes for you meant snatching the cheap shit in the back of the store that people wouldn't realize were missing until it was too late, which left you in summery clothes in the dead of winter.

"that's all you have to say for yourself?"

dean is looking at you with that quizzical stare he gets, like he expects you to have some sort of answer for why you were like this. you didn't know. you just got here.

"steal one." you look around the parking lot of the little strip mall he'd taxi'ed you both to, and nod toward a big black truck towering above the other cars. "that one."

dean follows the direction of your finger and snorts. "no way in hell. that guy's gonna notice immediately that that thing is missing."

just like how dean noticed that you were missing, when the tides shifted or the moon phased at a certain time, and suddenly you were a girl by a light pole and not a car parked under the streetlight. that was understandable.

dean runs a hand over his face, turning his back to you again in that way that didn't fully seem to indict you, but it didn't really make you feel like an innocent party in this.

you could help. of course you could help. dean wanted a car, that car was the scariest in the area, he couldn't take that one with force, so...

the front windshield has "DEER HUNTIN" sprawled into the glass in an ugly, abrasive font. dean was a hunter. he wore lots of layers, even when he'd be driving in the dead of summer. you just needed to find a guy in lots of layers.

so you disappear, ducking into one of the little businesses in the mall with hunting & fishing goods on the big sign out front. everyone in there sort of looks the same, the whole place smells a little like oil and a lot like dirt and hay, and you think that you've made a poor judgement call until you find him.

big guy, as big as the truck in the parking lot. camouflage hat and jacket. dirt all over his jeans. a t-shirt beneath the jacket that says i like my girls like i like my bucks: big and horny. he's your guy. he's so your guy.

"hi, sir," you say, trying to puff out your chest in that way that dean hates but makes you feel a little bit taller and on his level. the guy looks over at you in a way that dean also does, sometimes, but he's much more obvious about it than dean is. "is that yours?"

you point to the truck in the parking lot.

the guy puffs his chest up, too, and now you really don't know why dean hates it, when it just seems to be a dude thing. "it sure is, pretty thing," he drawls, putting the box of ammo back on the shelf, "you want a ride in it?"

"no thank you." you hold out your hand instead. "can i have the keys?"

he laughs. your face visibly falls, and he laughs a little harder. "won't go for a ride with me but expects me to fork over my keys. i'll be damned. what's your name?"

"baby."

"baby," he doesn't say it like dean does, with awe and reverence and sentiment. he says it like it tastes filthy in his mouth. "tell you what. go on a little ride with me, and i'll let you take it for a spin."

"no thank you." how many times did a girl have to tell a man no? seriously. "i just want the keys."

the door to the shop dings, the echo of the bell ricocheting around the spacious area. "baby?" dean's voice. you are so helpless to the way that you light up at the sound of it. "baby, you better—"

he cuts himself off, his eyes landing directly on you. you can always tell when dean's looking at you. there's something physical and innate in the way his gaze rests like its own sort of blanket over your skin.

the guy behind you nods toward dean. "that your boyfriend?"

"no. that's my driver."

you could not possibly be more clear, but the guy's face twists up. "so why the hell do you need my keys?"

dean is at your side now, a hand on your hip and a grimace on his face. he tends to wear that look a lot around you, now, even though you still catch glimpses of the fondness when he thinks you're not looking.

"she doesn't." dean pulls you a little more into his side, and you grin. he's always so warm. "sorry 'bout that."

"keep your girl leashed, alright?" the guy scoffs, turning back to the shelves full of ammo boxes. "she's tryin' to get into trouble she can't handle."

you could handle a lot of things. you'd been crashed a few times. you'd been long overdue of an oil change. you were pretty sure that dean was conceived in you, which was an entirely other sort of thing you didn't even want to think about. were doing pretty well without thinking on it, thank you. you could handle things, and it wasn't fair that this stranger thought he knew you based on one interaction that you were certain was going just fine.

dean seems to sense that you're about to dig a deeper hole for yourself, and so he starts to tug you away. "yeah, yeah, she's leashed," dean grumbles, his teeth gritted together. he doesn't like the guy either, it seems.

you barely take a step away before dean's turning to you again with that look of unadulterated exasperation. again. "what the hell was all that?"

"you said we couldn't steal it because he'd know." like, did dean just... forget that conversation in a two minute span, or what? "so i went to ask him for the keys."

dean's lips flatten. he's really, seriously trying to keep the blank expression but the twitch of his dimples gives away his amusement. "no."

"yes." you reach into dean's jacket pocket over your shoulders and hold out the keys. "got them, too."

"he gave them over?"

you smile. and that's how you know that dean was yours and you were his, and that even if he was getting premature gray hairs from you, he still adored you. "no. i was just letting him know i was taking it. i wasn't really asking."

dean laughs this time. well and truly laughs, holding the shop's door open for you. "you are somethin' else."

"i'm helping," you correct, looking down at the key fob in your fingers. you press the unlock button, but the truck's headlights don't light up. it sits as idle as ever.

the car next to it, a model close to yours but not quite as well taken care of, beeps in acknowledgement.

you pass the keys over to dean, practically skipping toward the impala in utter glee. the cards always worked in your favor, didn't they? you'd been with the winchesters for three generations, passed down like an heirloom, but this was the one that loved you the most, and now you could finally show it.

"scratch that, baby," dean says as he catches up to you, catching you around the waist to drag you in for a kiss on the temple, "you're a goddamn godsent."

yes. you definitely were.

notes. forgot i wrote the first part to this, and then this came into my head, and it made me giggle so i had to write it. pls enjoy

tags. @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @figthoughts @theosaurous @stereotypicalbarbie @whyyouegg @eepwtf @rositaslabyrinth @rubyvhs @aileenunfiltered @abox-of-rocks @sunsbaby @bluemerakis @jollyhunter @misatxox @sunsettsam @angelblqde @bombarda-babe @unfortunate-brat @funkycoloured @chevroletdean @chiierful @cowboysandcigarettes @voidsuites @bitchykittenconnoisseur @beausling @soldiersgirl @dulcescorderitas @hyacinnths @couturewinx @blushpinkdoll @mccartneyqp @svbnra

[muletia]

I still can’t get your joke abt obsessed vehicons x reader, like imagine your ass gets kidnapped so many times you start encouraging them to unionize to hopefully get them off your ass, which eventually leads them to collectively decide YOU’RE the boss now and they ALL love you, task failed successfully??? 😭😭😭

the anons are referring to this ask, it just took me one billion years to answer, sorry

I was going to write a little something about obsessed Vehicons but gave up after rewriting a wip a few times ehhhh, so imma just do a little info-dumping about my ideas regarding them tf stormtroopers

Maybe one of them got injured and abandoned in the field. You find him and keep him company, discovering that the cannon fodder of the Decepticons isn’t emotionless or indifferent. They have their own personalities, thoughts, and dreams. They feel and want to be treated as full-fledged bots, though they know all too well that such a luxury is unattainable for bots like them. From that moment on, you start seeing the Vehicons differently. More kindly. You notice their suffering, begin to have normal, almost friendly conversations with them, and, most importantly, treat them as beings, not doormats. They’re immensely grateful for it, and they’ll show their gratitude at every opportunity. At first, it’s purely out of gratitude, but over time, it becomes out of respect, and eventually, simply because it brings them joy.

Which leads to your backyard turning into a parking lot and landing zone for Vehicons who visit you every chance they get. They abandon their routine of random drop-ins to deliver you to Megatron, instead waiting for your commands. They want to listen to you and only you, ready to do absolutely anything for you. Did your boss annoy you at work recently? A platoon of Vehicons is ready to wipe them off the face of the Earth. Need something specific? They’ll steal delivery vans for you so you can pick out something nice. Just don’t ask them to leave you alone — that they simply cannot do. They won’t easily give up the only person who treats them normally. Not even just with respect anymore, because once obsession burrows into their processors, they’ll be ready to do the most obscene and vile things for you if you so desire.

There are two endings. One is angst, where the Vehicons continue to deliver you to Megatron despite their burning feelings, leaving everyone unsatisfied except for the Lord himself, whose only annoyance is Optimus. Or it ends with them completely severing ties with the Decepticons and choosing to live only with you as their new boss, though that’s far from an ideal outcome. Megatron won’t relent so easily, and not even an entire army of Vehicons will stop him from claiming you for himself.

[ao3cassandraic]

Flooding the zone

Like many in the US right now, I'm having trouble holding my shit together. It's a day-by-day, night-by-nightmare thing. I do not read mainstream news. I have what social media I have left (including this hellsite) filtered to hell and back, because it doesn't take much to send me into a spiral.

So if that's you too right now, I feel you, and I swear I'm not writing this post to make it worse.

I'm writing it to ask us to think about what we're saying and doing and how we're spending our energy.

I'm not a political scientist, but I read a few. I'm not a labor theorist, but I am a union member and officer. Our situation in the US rhymes with other situations, geographically and historically, and one thing that's crystal clear is there are ways to stop this shit and it takes numbers and actions and often time.

The numbers are maybe smaller than you think? That one surprised me. Active resistance from maybe 5% of the population has stopped coups cold.

The rub is, best I can tell, that it's hard to say exactly which actions are gonna turn the tide, never mind when -- this shit's complicated and contextual and frequently opportunistic (as with President Yoon's faceplant in South Korea) such that even hindsight gets a bit murky.

So it seems to me that what it makes sense to do is flood the zone, as they say in American football, and keep flooding it. And yeah, that's a Steve Bannonism too, but what our enemies lack in ethics and care they make up for in cold hard strategy, so why not steal it from them?

(Part of my thinking is George Lakoff, too. Smart dude. Decent one, too. Check him out.)

Flood the zone with truth. Flood the zone with defiance -- it's our country too! Flood the zone with hope.

And not just once, but many times, because we can never know in advance the one time that'll put us over the top. Also because like almost any serious endeavor, resistance takes practice. As we practice, we get habituated to the practice and we get stronger and better at the practice!

I can attest to this myself. I spent most of my adult life pretty lousy at civic engagement (never mind resistance), if I'm honest. I voted routinely, but that was about it. I started switching it up in 2011 (I'm a Sconnie and Scott Walker sure did happen), though -- protests, donations, working the polls, union membership and then service, contacting my legislators, more protests, campaign work, some other stuff.

And now a lot of the above list is plain old routine, for me? It's ordinary as weather. It's just part of how I live my life. I bet civic engagement, including in the form of resistance, can become that way for you, too.

I believe a fair few of us can step onto the same road I've been on if we redirect some of our existing efforts -- because doomscrolling is an effort, venting is an effort, doomsaying and amplifying doomsayers is an effort. Let me gently suggest:

Instead of doomscrolling or ruminating: meditation, spiritual or religious practice if you have one, exercise if it's available to you, reading books or fanfic, doing puzzles or brainteasers (I have developed such a Squaredle habit).

If you can't scratch the doomscroll itch unless you're looking at something political, try Mariame Kaba or Rebecca Solnit or even Ezra Klein. If the problem is the doomscroll finding you, filters and blocks and getting away from algorithm-personalized platforms can likely help, and that last is a good idea all by itself.

Instead of venting to social media or into the void: vent at elected officials! You don't have to start with phone calls, or do them at all (I rarely do) -- remember, we're flooding the zone, and the zone's pretty big. Email or Resistbot or postcards are totally fine. More fun in groups -- postcard with friends!

If you can, try to angle your conversational contributions online and off-, including what you reblog/retoot/boost, away from venting and toward action and hope. This doesn't have to be because you're actually feeling hope -- it absolutely can be (and for me often is) a conscious strategy to develop fellow travelers and discipline my own mind and hands.

Instead of doomsaying, express hope and love and solidarity. Again, you don't always have to feel it -- it's a conscious organizing strategy, get me? If it helps you feel more hope and more solidarity yourself, and it may (especially as others respond to it), that's a grateful bonus.

Or consider a swear-jar strategy. Catch yourself doomsaying? Make a donation or email a legislator or whatever -- just decide on a useful action you'll take when you slip up, and hold yourself to it. Every time.

It's not hard to find people who say that all the above is performative, it's not action, it's not effective, ka-blah-ka-blah-ka-blah. I say that we damned well don't know that and that lots of small efforts from lots of people is totally how zones get flooded.

I also say that everyone starts somewhere, and that the zone ain't gonna flood itself.

Redirect even a little effort to flood the zone with me, please? Thank you. And my love to you and to all of us in these times.

[berfgrimm]

CRΣΣKS | choi seunghyun (t.o.p) x reader

pairing: choi seunghyun (t.o.p) x reader

warning: angst, minor blood/injury, some fluff, mentions of addiction & depression, mentions of character death within the context of acting (idk how to explain it i’m so sorry)

note: i had this idea about being an actor and starring in squid game while I was listening to my sad playlist so this is what came of that. please enjoy, i love you all.

———————

Emotional scenes were never your favorite to film, especially in front of so many people. You hated having to cry or scream, because, even though you were acting, forcing your body to experience those emotions could exhaust you under normal circumstances. Knowing that this would be your final scene on Squid Game added to the emotion, sure, but there was something that complicated things even more. Seunghyun.

The two of you met for the first time during the casting announcement for the new season. You’d heard of him before, and though you didn’t know much about him, you found him to be very kind, and reserved. When you noticed that he tended to keep to himself, you made every effort to include him, and after a while, you saw him begin to come out of his shell.

Over the course of filming, you grew closer to Seunghyun as the majority of your scenes were together. You both worked hard to craft two characters that compliment one another, letting your blossoming real life friendship bleed through on screen.

You created a rich history that these two characters experienced together, stretching back to their childhood — two people that were driven apart by military service and arranged marriages that fell through. You invented school trips to museums, and vacations to experience live music. You created two characters who didn’t see a future that wasn’t plagued with addiction and depression, but still hustled every day to keep their head above water. You drew from your own experiences with love and heartbreak to create two characters that would never find peace with one another. You fell in love with Thanos and his muse.

After filming wrapped each day, you would often get dinner together and discuss your interests or workshop ideas for your characters. You ended up staying over at his place more often than not, falling asleep on the floor while watching a movie together. You spent more time with Seunghyun than you did by yourself, but it never once felt like it was too much.

When you explained your relationship to a friend, they were certain there was more going on between the two of you than just a platonic bond. The thought hadn’t occurred to you before; even though you knew Seunghyun was attractive, you never looked at him through that lense before. You assured your other friend that you didn’t see Seunghyun that way and you were sure he felt the same. You didn’t allow the thought to fester in your mind, too afraid of it ruining your friendship.

So, here you are. Preparing for your final scene before you wrap. You’ve created a character that you’re infinitely proud of and now you have to say goodbye. But it’s more than that. You know that you’ll be saying goodbye to Seunghyun as well. He still has a few scenes to film, and though you wish you could stay to watch, you have to catch a flight later to start production on your next project. So when you spot him standing quietly behind the crew, watching you set up, you find it hard to fight back the tears.

You’d never found yourself in a situation like this. You got along with many of your co-stars on other productions, and made friendships that would last a lifetime, but this was different. Seunghyun was different from all of them. You’d never spent all day and night with a co-star before. You’d never studied art and poetry with a co-star and discussed it at length until your mouth went dry. You’d never created a shared playlist with a co-star, so of course you never fell asleep with your head on their shoulder while you listened to it. You’d never felt this hollow when you envisioned your life after wrap.

You sit on the edge of the bunk, resting your elbows on your knees so you can clasp your hands together. You breathe in and out as slowly as you can, preparing yourself to film this next scene. When the tears sting at your eyes, you sit up straight, rolling your shoulders.

“Shut up,” you whisper to yourself. “Don’t cry yet. Just hang on.” Your actor mentality kicks; you don’t want to waste tears when you have to film a crying scene. “Pull it together,” you mutter under your breath. “Come on.”

It could have been any other scene, and maybe it wouldn’t have felt like this. You are forced to end your time on Squid Game with the demise of Thanos. In some ways, it’s fitting; sending off both of your characters at the same time. You’d already filmed your remaining scenes but you dreaded this one the most. You think that the production team sensed it, and arranged it like this intentionally; you hope they’ll forgive you if you don’t thank them for it.

Filming feels like pulling your heart out of your chest and holding it out in front of you for everyone to see. The sound of your cries echoing in the silent dormitory is surreal, tears streaming down your face with no signs of slowing. When you fall to your knees on the floor, lamenting the loss of your partner, you feel it — the lines start to blur between the characters and yourself, and your cries become real.

It’s the absence of Seunghyun that scares you. Having been so dependent on one another for months like this makes you fear the loss of him. Of course you’ll be able to call or text or even visit, but you fear it won’t be the same. Does your connection only exist in the confines of your characters? Was this born of longing in the art you created together? Fuck, your head feels like it’s going to collapse on itself.

You don’t realize that you’ve gone on autopilot, lost in your mind to your thoughts but still present in the scene. You also don’t notice that you’ve repeatedly slammed your fist against the floor as you deliver your lines, not until you feel someone wrap their arm around your back and grasp your hand to stop you. Ha-neul. He cradles you against his chest, something that you hadn’t rehearsed but something that fits the scene nonetheless.

When the take ends, you prepare to tell the director that you’d need a break to compose yourself before trying again, because somewhere in your mind you felt that it wasn’t what he needed. Maybe it was too much.

“It was perfect.”

The director was certain, along with your castmates who make sure to check on you as Ha-neul helps you to your feet. You feel like you are outside of your own body, watching from above as you are handed a rag to stop the bleeding on your hand. You try to find Seunghyun but you get lost in the crowd, being pulled in different directions as people praise your performance. You say your quick goodbyes, needing to get away from everyone as you become overwhelmed.

Your hands tremble on the walk to your trailer, your breath coming out in shudders as you try to regain your composure. When you step into the trailer and pull the door shut behind you, the silent tears start to fall.

“Do you need me to bandage your hand?”

Seunghyun is sitting on the sofa of your trailer, holding a first aid kit in his hands, a gentle smile on his face. You nod, stifling your tears and replacing them with what you hope reads like relief because you’re so glad it’s him.

Seunghyun stands, crossing to you and taking your uninjured hand to lead you back to the sofa. He makes sure you sit comfortably before he kneels on the ground in front of you, setting up the first aid kit so he can begin to clean your wound.

You can only watch him in silence at first, your eyes darting back and forth between his hands and his face, watching how he concentrates on his work. The tears start to return, quiet again but you struggle to hide the way you start to tremble.

“I don’t want to leave,” you admit, looking down at your hands as he presses a large bandage to your skin. He sighs softly, his hands now still as he stares at the bandage.

“I know,” Seunghyun whispers after a moment of silence. “I don’t want you to leave either.” He shifts his grip on your hand so he now holds it with both of his, fingers gently stroking the top of your hand.

“I think everything is going to be different now,” you say, quietly. Seunghyun pulls in a deep breath and lets it out in a soft sigh, as if he’s trying to find the words. You feel a pang of worry in your chest that he doesn’t feel this same ache in his chest as you do at the thought of leaving.

“I’ll still be here,” he says, finally making eye contact with you. “I won’t keep you out.” You stare into his eyes, an ache in your jaw from struggling to hold back your sobs.

Seunghyun wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumb before he takes hold of your chin with the gentlest grip. When his lips touch yours, you feel as though you drift away, floating above the trees out of your body. You’d never felt something so tender and meaningful. It’s over as soon as it begins, and your eyes stay closed, too afraid that you’d imagined it.

“When do you leave?” Seunghyun’s voice rumbles through your bones, settling heavy in your chest. You open your eyes slowly to meet his gaze again.

“Soon,” you reply, your voice sounding unlike your own: weak and forlorn.

“Okay,” he nods. “We can stay here until then.”

Seunghyun sits beside you on the sofa, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to keep you close to his chest. He offers you headphones to share, to enjoy your playlist together one more time. Relaxing into his arms, you toil over your emotions; what happens now? Is this the end or is there something else? You can’t bring yourself to even think of it yet, because right now, the world doesn’t exist beyond the walls of your trailer.

[lyxchen]

Okay so I've heard this said a bunch of times and I'm gonna admit I thought like that too for a while but no, Gi-hun did not win the games because he was lucky. A lot of people think that's how he won because he never killed anybody but that's really not the point. Gi-hun won the games because a) he's smart and is able to look at things from a different angle, b) because he is a good and kind person who also believes in others and c) because of the goodness and care get got back from other people.

In the first game he survived because Ali saved him and that wasn't luck, that was Ali being a good person and helping somebody not get killed. Ali could've not caught him, let him die, he didn't even know Gi-hun at all at that point and he put himself in more danger too by having to hold on to a person while standing completely still but he still saved Gi-hun because Ali is a good person.

In the Dalgona game he quite literally Was Not Lucky. He decided to go with the umbrella which is the worst shape to pick and he probably would have died if he hadn't looked at the game in a different way and decided to change his strategy. Gi-hun is smart. He is also optimistic and so he tried something new and found a different way to beat that game.

In the third game he survived because he was smart and kind enough to listen to Il-nam. The other people in their group dismissed him as just an old man speaking but Gi-hun didn't and that way they had a good strategy to beat the other team. The same goes for him listening to Sang-woo's idea of running three steps and then stopping, which ultimately was what saved them. His group also chose him as their leader (who, as Il-nam said, needs to not seem weak or loose hope because then the whole team is doomed). His team trusted in him and his optimism and they were right to do so.

In the marbles game he won because he was once again kind and decided to team up with Il-nam and also because in the end Il-nam decided to "sacrifice himself" for Gi-hun because he showed him kindness before. Yes Il-nam didn't actually die but he also knew that Gi-hun had cheated and still let him continue on to the next game, probably because Gi-hun had been good and kind and caring towards him before, even though he really didn't have to be. Gi-hun also didn't know this but by teaming up with Il-nam he inadvertently ensured that Il-nam had a lot more fun in the games than he would have had, had everybody just ignored to "old, fragile man". Gi-hun was good to Il-nam throughout all the games and it ended up saving him in the marbles game.

In the fifth game it's only some small moments as Gi-hun isn't really involved in the game because he's the last number but still it wasn't just luck. First of all he was kind enough to give the number 1 to the player that asked him for it. Yes, that number was bad but he didn't know that and had he been selfish enough to say no to that other player he wouldn't have survived. Being the last to play in any game can end up being bad for you, still he decided to give up the number he picked because the other player asked him to. Secondly he also survived that game because Sae-byeok was kind enough to remind him of which glass tile to step on after he had forgotten which one it was. It's only small but she didn't have to tell him and still she did. Sae-byeok btw is also good to him because before that he was good to her and protected her (even though he was angry at her at first) and that way he was able to gain her trust.

Lastly he won the Squid Game because Gi-hun was kind to Sang-woo and because Sang-woo deep down was still a good person. There were probably many reasons as to why Sang-woo decided to kill himself in the end but part of it, I'm sure, was also because Gi-hun was a good friend to him. I mean Gi-hun was even willing to give up all the money and go back home with nothing gained if it meant that Sang-woo didn't have to die and would be able to come home with him. Gi-hun deserved that win and that money and in the end Sang-woo knew that. He also knew that Gi-hun would make sure to take care of Sang-woo's mother and that he wouldn't just take all the money for himself because Sang-woo knew that Gi-hun is a good person. (Gi-hun technically also won the Squid Game because he was good at it which is also him being smart)

So in conclusion and I hope y'all haven't stopped reading yet: Gi-hun didn't win the games because he was lucky. He didn't just sit around doing nothing and won anyways. He won because he was smart but even more importantly he won because of the kindness and goodness that exists in humans and that is especially present in him. He won because he had empathy, because people trusted him, because he got back from them what he gave to them first. He never killed anyone and we can clearly see that he Could Never kill anyone in those games but that's not his weakness. Just because he didn't let himself get corrupted and turned into what the games wanted him to turn into doesn't mean he won because of luck. Him not playing by those subtle, hidden rules that are made to force him to be bad, to not care about others and to give up his kindness actually means he was better than the games. He won because he didn't let them turn him into a monster. They tried really hard and they failed and that's how he won!! But also on top of that he also won because he isn't the only good person in this show. He also won because other people helped him, were kind to him and gave a shit about him. Each and every person that helped Gi-hun didn't have to do that. They all could have not helped him, Ali could have not caught him, Sae-byeok could have not told him which one was the correct glass tile, hell, she could have Lied to him about it and the only difference it would have made for the other players would have been them being one more dead person closer to winning all that money. But that's really not how humans are and act which is why all these people helped Gi-hun, helped each other in small or big ways and in the end his own kindness and the kindness that exists in other people is what lead to Gi-hun winning. That's not luck. That humans being good

[cokoakeostuff]

Your new comic prompted me to start replaying the tutorial of totk and sndisjsjsksns like I thought it was incredible when I first saw it, but now refreshing with game knowledge makes it so much better.

Link freshly waking up in a mysterious ruin again: torn between feeling like 'not this again', 'at least I have memories this time' and ' Zelda! Is Zelda ok?! What happened to Zelda!' (This was a lot more peaceful when I couldn't remember why I was fighting, and I know I need to pace myself because I'm injured but: ZELDA)

Finding people on the island and one is being really weird about the master sword. Sndjdksksksjsksksbsi, If only he had some bananas to offer, then everyone could be confused.

I cant wait to see how this plays out, from getting the purah pad, to Raru, to the shrines and the battery, and just seeing how multiple people working together in the tutorial changes things.

I am so incredibly excited about this, thank you for making and sharing it!

omg yes you got it, wild for real though he was gonna have to fight some random yiga members because no one ever recognizes him, just his haters 😭 and then he thought sky was talking about zelda at first (he is only thinking about her atm) so that aggressive “what happened to her?” really confused him. I also had to replay the tutorial (well I haven’t finished yet because I’ve been busy) but I already have so many ideas I wish I could make them faster GRAAH.

Working on this project brings me lots of joy really, and even more seeing other people enjoying it with me, thats so cool.

And no, thank youuu for your support, it means a lot to me, and if you want to request some doodle o silly idea you can, take it as a way to say thank u for ur dono!

[dreaminguponlilypads]

KINGS OF ENGLAND.

AU: TF 141 as mobsters in England, circa 90’s

i was watching the movie legend while writing this lol

The streets of Manchester whispered their name like a prayer. 141 wasn’t just a crime syndicate—it was the syndicate. Their influence stretched from the nightclubs in Deansgate to the docks at Salford, their power cemented in blood and loyalty.



At the top sat John Price, the undisputed kingpin. A man with a cigar always dangling from his lips, he carried himself like an old war general—because, once upon a time, he had been one. Now, he led his empire with a mix of ruthless efficiency and the kind of charisma that made men kill for him without question.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley was his right hand, a Manchester native who once ran with smaller gangs before Price took him under his wing. The skull mask was more than a signature—it was a legend. Some said he never took it off, even when he slept. Others swore they saw the devil himself when they looked into his eyes. Whatever the truth, one thing was certain: when Ghost came knocking, you didn’t answer—you ran.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick was the face of their operations, the one who could charm his way out of a murder charge before breakfast. He handled negotiations, both legal and otherwise, and had the uncanny ability to walk into a room full of enemies and walk out with twice as many friends.

And then there was MacTavish. 'Soap,' as they called him, though there was nothing clean about the way he worked. Explosives, heists, breaking and entering—if it required skill, precision, and a touch of madness, Soap was the man for the job. He laughed through every firefight, like he was daring death to take him.

Tonight, they met in the back room of The Raven’s Nest, their private club, where the drinks were expensive, and the clientele even more so.

'Got word from Liverpool,' Gaz muttered, swirling a whiskey in his glass. 'Some lot’s makin’ a move on our ports.'

Soap raised an eyebrow. 'Anyone important?'

Ghost leaned against the bar, arms crossed. 'New blood. Desperate.'

'Either way, they die the same,' Price said, tapping ash from his cigar. 'I want ‘em handled. Send a message.'

Soap cracked his knuckles. 'Consider it done.'

This was Manchester. Their kingdom. And anyone who forgot that?

Well.

Ghost had a knack for making people remember.

Soap didn’t waste time. By midnight, he and Ghost were in a blacked-out BMW, cruising through Manchester’s dimly lit streets, heading toward the docks. Rain slicked the pavement, making the city glisten under the orange glow of streetlights. It was a quiet night—too quiet.

'Gaz get us a name?' Soap asked, checking his pistol.

'Yeah,' Ghost muttered. 'Some lad named Frankie Doyle. Small-time, but he’s got backers. Thinks he can make a name for himself by takin’ from us.'

Soap snorted. 'Fuckin’ idiot.'

They pulled up near the dockyard’s storage units. A few men in track jackets and leather coats loitered outside, smoking.

'Four outside, more inside,' Ghost observed, voice low. 'We doin’ this quiet or loud?'

Soap smirked. 'Let’s see if they got manners first.'

They stepped out of the car, slow and casual. The men outside straightened, hands moving to their weapons.

'This is private property,' one of them called out.

Soap grinned. 'Aye? That’s funny. ‘Cause last I checked, this belongs to 141.'

One of the guards paled at the name, but the others weren’t as smart.

'You’ve got the wrong idea, mate,' the first one sneered, stepping forward. 'You can walk away, nice and easy.'

Ghost sighed. 'Shouldn’t have said that.'

The fight lasted less than a minute. Ghost moved first, a switchblade flashing in the dark. The first man didn’t even have time to scream before he was on the ground, blood pooling beneath him. Soap went for the other, slamming his head against a crate before shooting him point-blank.

The last two tried to run.

Ghost caught one, dragging him back into the shadows with a hand over his mouth. A muffled gunshot followed.

Soap let the last one go—for now. 'We want ‘em to know,' he muttered. 'Let Doyle hear what happens when you fuck with 141.'

They stepped over the bodies and into the warehouse.

Time to send a message.

The warehouse smelled like damp concrete and old oil. Stacked crates formed narrow pathways, and a single hanging light flickered overhead.

Soap moved first, stepping over a bloodstain some poor bastard had left behind, his gun loose in his grip. Ghost followed close behind, his presence like a shadow stretching long in the dim light.

They heard voices before they saw anyone. Frankie Doyle was in the center of the warehouse, standing by a table covered in blueprints and half-smoked cigarettes. He was a scrawny bastard, maybe mid-thirties, with slicked-back hair and a secondhand leather jacket that looked like it had seen better days. Around him, five men armed with cheap pistols listened as he ran his mouth.

‘…we push a little more, yeah? Price and his lot ain't untouchable—’

Soap kicked over a crate, the loud crack of splintering wood cutting Doyle off mid-sentence.

'Go on,' Soap grinned, stepping into the light. 'Finish what you were sayin’.'

The room froze. Doyle’s eyes went wide. One of his men cursed under his breath and reached for his gun.

Ghost shot him in the leg before he could pull the trigger.

The man hit the ground, screaming, and Doyle stumbled back, knocking over a chair. His remaining men pulled their weapons, but they hesitated. Smart.

'Now you thinkin’,' Soap said, spinning his pistol lazily. 'Here’s the problem, Frankie—you’re dumb as fuck. You thought you could move in on our ports, skim off our shipments, and what? We wouldn’t notice?'

Ghost put a bullet in his head before he could answer.

'Price’ll want the docks cleaned up by morning,' Ghost muttered. 'Call Alfie. Have him send a crew.'

Soap nodded, pulling out his pager. 'Hope Liverpool got the message.'

'They will.'

[aechlys]

One of the most interesting things about looking at Buck-Tick lyrics is not just Atsushi (and Imai)'s evolution as a wordsmith but his evolution with topics, if that's even the right word for it. You literally get to watch him get hit by things we both do and don't know about that happen to him throughout his life, and then how over time he grew to deal with them- or sometimes just accept them as fucked- and what he thought about it. And of course not everything is auto-biographical- we know his love for creating characters to tell meaningful stories about- but you still have the well-known strains of how he deals with significant loss, how he comes to terms eventually with people from his past he can't change, his own fuck-ups, encouragement to fans, examinations of things he encountered either irl or in the news.

And then, whoever came up with the brilliant idea to record so many live performances literally from day one until the very, very end...because not only does he evolve with each layer of new songs but also with each fresh performance of even some of the band's oldest, iconic songs. We get to see for ourselves how his relationship to various subject matter changes from performance to performance, the best ones being with decades between them. Whether it's a raw, excruciating grappling, to a sort of sublime madness of acceptance, to finally elevating himself above the issue entirely-- 太陽に殺された/Murdered by the Sun is such an excellent example of this, and for those just wandering in is a song about questioning celebrity, whether it's worth being a player on the stage when the attention can be excruciating- and with the added subtext that the ones you love may die with you nowhere near them for the sake of success. Atsushi questioned his entire career with this song after his mother died from cancer while the band was on tour- "Murdered by the Sun" perhaps more than just a metaphor for being killed by the spotlight, but him as a son feeling extremely responsible for not being there. If you have the time to take out to watch all three play out, I encourage it:

The most famous, from 1992, where he even added an extra verse at the end that I don't think he ever sang again- an extremely raw and clawing performance where the lighting at the beginning hits his face perfectly to reveal a Noh mask-like countenance to pull us back to this idea of the oldest theatre, and also to the fact that he likely felt like he was currently hiding behind perhaps several masks at the time.

10 years later in 2003, now the lines of the song are drawn out, more floating, his lilting voice older and more seasoned than last time. It's been ten long years that probably shot by in a flash and he's experienced so much with still so much yet ahead of him. The madness of it all is settled in his bones now, you feel, and there is an acceptance about it even though he's learned to shoulder the strain that's still there.

10+ years again to 2015, now the song starts off as if he's telling a story about someone else entirely- he's risen so far above the issue because it is wholeheartedly his life now- but in the second half of the song you sort of see him reawaken and look back down at his past self as he asks his questions "Will I just die? Will I live?"- like looking back into the past and going "Well what will you choose, kid? Because here we are now." And in his final chorus he no longer is left beating himself up telling the sun to just kill him like he did the first time in the added verse- now he's blowing kisses to the sky in each direction as he thinks about those gone on- and this time, this time, at the end he does not die.

Honestly, that someone had the genius idea- even if it was just for marketing and to make money- of recording so so many lives which allows us to literally see it all in action with our own two eyes like the best sort of modern anthropology...I want to hug them. Because such a life...such an artist and their very vivid artistry is preserved forever now in a way that we can look at almost like pages in a book.

There is no conclusion to this post because ultimately there is no conclusion- at least not a satisfying one- to his story. Or perhaps, writing it out and thinking about it now, ironically there is. Atsushi, essentially, died on stage. Weirdly self-fulfilling that the 'sun' of the stage, in a sense, did catch up to him in the end when a song about dealing with problems in the moment was never meant to be a prophecy. And I don't think it was, genuinely. More of a curiosity at best. Something that makes his story all the more interesting, perhaps. And that's precisely why I think there's no ending to be had- every person who sinks their claws in deeply to the material will come away with some treasure that possibly no one has managed to see before. And that, right there, keeps adding pages to the book.

There is no ending because a sudden curtain fall does not constitute an ending, and there is no ending if all of us continue to add pages to his and the band's story. Not even the band is stopping their own page-adding- Imai claiming Atsushi was causing mischief in the studio while recording Subrosa is testament to that.

I don't know. This post started off as just a vehicle for me to rattle off the pressing thoughts I had about artistic and personal evolution and then turned into this whole thing so I don't have much of an ending here myself. Except to perhaps say don't stop listening, don't stop watching, don't stop posting and comparing and questioning and sharing your thoughts about things, because these are all pages to a book about a man whose artistry is very much alive and well- because of us. They say, too, sometimes, that when people are reincarnated they can still remember who they are, or they remember wisps of enough to recognize things from before. I'd like to think, perhaps in a rather fantastical way maybe, that when the wheel turns and he comes back again, that in his travels he may stumble across some old band called Buck-Tick and see not just the mountain of art he and his best friends created but also all of our little foothills piled around it containing our thoughts and translations and praises and grief and happiness all carefully built with love left behind for him and the guys. And that somehow, whether he understands it or not, he can smile at seeing us all again, even if it makes no sense to him at all.

[asprinkleoftism]

505

"I'm going back to 505.

If it's a seven hour flight or a forty five minute drive

In my imagination, you're waitin' lyin' on your side

With your hands in between your thighs.."

-505 by Arctic Monkeys

Cecil Stedman x Reader

About: After a nasty fight between the two of you, you have had enough of Cecil for the last time or so you think.

Notes: AMAZING AMAZING COVERT ART DONE BY THE SUPERB @geddy-spageddy please go check out their art! They're super talented and kind! I love Arctic Monkeys and the idea came to me while listening to this song. I hope you enjoy it! Some toxicity angst, nothing abusive though, and some drinking use involved. Italics are past memories. Enjoy :3

"Darlin', I didn't mean it-

"You still said it though! If you didn't mean to say: 'God if you're so fucking tired then why did you say it?!" You cried out.

"Well, you ask so much from me all the goddamn time!! I'm the one busting my ass all the fucking time!" Cecil yelled back.

"Just because I ask you to be here for me doesn't mean you get to scream bloody-"

"Your room number is 505, ma'am."

The check in guy knocked you out of the flashback, even though the event just happened an hour ago.

"Thank you." You mumble, taking the room key from him.

You gave a friendly nod to him and turned to find the room, the room you've been accustomed to going to every once in a while.

505.

Seeing the room number felt like it was taunting you as if it were saying: 'Welcome to your second home.' You shook the thought of your head as you unlocked the door and stepped in. The all familiar beige basic walls with the white curtains, old boxy TV as well as the floral bedsheets comforted you in a sense. You shut and lock the door behind you and collapse onto the more than less comfortable mattress. This would be your last time coming here, for you were set in stone on staying here for a couple of days or so, however long it would take to find a new apartment for you to live in. All that you knew though was that you were done.

"Cecil..wake up."

"Hm?' Cecil grumbled.

He was still half asleep, but almost immediately woke up to your voice. It was like a sweet melody to his ears. You reached over and rubbed his back, hearing a half tired groan come from Cecil. Your touch sent chills down his spine, but in a good way. It was a reminder to what he has in his life. Cecil sighed deeply as he rolled over, facing you and immediately taking you into his arms. Cecil attached his lips to yours, bringing you even closer to him.

"This is the best part of my day." Cecil said once he pulled apart from you.

"Why is that?" You ask cheekily.

"Because I get to see your pretty self before I have to slave the day away."

You chuckled, attaching your lips back onto his.

The sound of the empty glass hitting the table was what echoed throughout the empty house. The only person there was Cecil. Normally you would be there, but you weren't. In fact, he knew exactly where you were at. But this time it was so bad that you both got in each others faces. So much screaming that his ears were still ringing from it. Cecil knew he was at fault for this and not just this time but for the many other times it has happened. He loves you, he really does. But damn it, he knew he was shitty. Cecil knew he was a shitty partner to you and knew he could do better. But it was the same old, same old. Cecil filled up his drink again, trying to wash away the events from earlier.

"I'm done! I never want to see you again!"

Your words echoed in his mind. Cecil said some stuff he shouldn't have but you did as well. It was just gasoline from one another to the already bursting fire. You had gotten in his face and it only caused him to get even more louder. Nothing physically happened, but it was a horrible screaming match to the point you threw your coat at him and walked out. The door slammed so hard that y'alls framed picture on y'alls anniversary fell and shattered.

"Shit, shit." Cecil had cursed as he went to retrieve the picture that fell.

He moved the glass shards away, realizing the picture was still in tact and the frame just needed to be replaced. In the process of it, Cecil's hand was cut up from the glass, but he didn't care. For the first time in a long while, Cecil felt some strand tears fall down his face. This was it. It was over.

"Please just..leave me alone."

"I'm just trying to help you out, Cecil." You say.

"Okay well maybe I just want some damn piece and quiet after work."

"I just want a fucking hug or even a hello from you, Cecil! Not just you grumble in, go and have a drink and give me the stank eye when I ask you about your day!!"

"I just want to be left alone for Christ's sake!! You're always jumping down my throat for everything!!"

'And now for the four o'clock news..'

The lukewarm soda went down your throat nicely, followed by the salt goodness from the potato chips. You were chowing down, trying to eat your feelings away and distract yourself. Despite the news and the badly made sitcom shows that you skimmed through, you still felt the frog in your throat. You wanted to cry but you held it together. This was ultimately the final straw. Lots of screaming and cursing at each other, sleeping in separate rooms, and lots of drinking to cope. Despite all of that though, you loved him. You love Cecil deeply, even at times like these. Great cuddler, great sense of humor, great in bed, and great at being..loving. Your mind started reminiscing on the good times. The honeymoon stage was your favorite. Cecil was more like himself then and was much more open. Over the years he started building his walls up and up slowly against you, even though there was no reason for him to do so. Granted you knew what he did for a job, being director of the GDA and all, but it killed you inside that you just wanted to help him.

"You look absolutely ravishing in that, darlin'." Cecil complimented you.

You turned around to find Cecil in the doorway. There was a company dinner party happening and of course you were going to go with him. You were his significant other after all. He trusts and loves you so he wasn't afraid of you knowing about anything.

"Thanks." You say.

Cecil approached you from behind and ran his hands down your body in a romantic way. Sure, Cecil liked to admire how you looked and how blessed he was to have you, but this was all romantic, not lustful. Cecil then leaned in and placed a delicate kiss on your temple, feeling the rough edges from his cheek scar.

"Sorry." He mumbled.

"For?"

"My cheek, I know it can be irritating."

"Why would it be?" You ask genuinely.

Cecil sighed deeply, placing a peck on your cheek.

"We'll talk later, hun. We need to get going." Cecil said as he squeezed your hips.

"Alright, you cheeky bastard." You response making him giggle.

Every time you both argued, Cecil would go out for a drive in his car. It often helped him clear out his head, more than alcohol ever would. He waited until he was sober enough to do it of course, despite wanting to do it right away. But despite both of you being mad at each other, Cecil would never do anything intentional to get back at you. Sure he would cuss at you and say hurtful shit out of anger, but he would wait until he was sober enough to drive. Driving relaxed him, and made him feel like he at least had a little bit of control in his life over something. You made him feel content with life but the more often this was happening, the more he felt like he was going to loose you. He didn't want that. As he sat there in that kitchen, contemplating on getting another drink, Cecil made a decision. He wants you. He wants to be with you till the end of time. Even if the world explodes due to his negligence, he wants you there. Cecil wants to hold you in his arms, caressing your face, whispering sweet nothings to you in comfort. And as the sky turns orange, his chapped, cracked lips will connect to your lips, squeezing your hand tightly in comfort as it all ends. He wants you.

"Darlin', shh, I got you."

"Not even a text or nothing, Stedman?! I thought you were dead." You pushed him away from you.

Cecil just approached you again but you walked away, trying to hurry to lock yourself in the bedroom out of anger. You slammed the door.

"FUCK!" Cecil exclaimed.

The door flew open as he stood there in the doorway. He knew you were upset at him, hell when were you not upset at him? Cecil was such a fuckup that he wouldn't be surprised if the world blew up because of him.

"Hun, I'm sorry. Okay? I-I should've texted you and told you. I'm sorry." Cecil apologized, making him sound like a broken record.

"Cecil I'm fucking pissed because I love you and just want you okay!"

"Why?!" Cecil almost tearfully yelled, "why do you love me?! All I do is treat you like garbage! I don't..shit." Cecil grumbled, running his hands through his hair.

Cecil leaned against the wall and slid down on it, sitting on the floor. His hands were resting on his temples as he looked straight down on the ground. You didn't know whether to approach him or give him space. You hated when things were like this between y'all, but you really do love Cecil. He had a kind soul deep down and he loved you too, he just wasn't used to anyone caring for him so damn much.

"Cecil.."

"Just..just leave. You deserve someone better than me."

Your heart shattered upon hearing that. Despite all of the damn fights you both have and how bad they can be, you still loved him deep down. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. You sat down next to him, gingerly grabbed one of his hands, and held it. Cecil looked at you. His face had softened, and his eyes seemed to be glimmer, which was a first for you. You sat closer and brought his hand close and placed a soft kiss onto it.

"I'm here, Cecil. Forever and always."

Cecil blinked, and tears fell down his face. He cleared his throat as he was trying not to bring attention to that. Ever so slowly, did you reach your hand to his face to gently wipe the tears away from his face. You didn't know it at the time, but the action made Cecil the most vulnerable you've ever seen him. More tears fell down his face, and you could ever so slightly hear his voice breaking. You leaned against the wall, sitting up taller than Cecil. You both sat there in silence, trying to come up with something to say, anything at all to break the silence. And suddenly, in the midst of the deep silence between you two, you felt a light weight on your shoulders.

All of the snacks and soda were gone, and all you could do was hold the pillow against your chest as you silently sobbed into it. You felt that this was really the final straw between you two. You didn't want it to be, but you knew it was for the best. Cecil and you live in different worlds and just aren't good for each other. You were slowly going through your phone gallery, deleting photos of the two of you. It was best to get it over with, just rip the band aid off. Each photo you deleted, more tears went down. You were hurt and was already missing him.

"Goodbye, Cecil." You mumble as you deleted the last photo of you two.

You tossed your phone across the bed and held the pillow out of anger. You knew you were at some fault for what happened but you just wanted Cecil to let you in. He had put walls up, walls that he wouldn't let anyone break down. As angry as he made you, you fucking loved him. You just wanted-

*KnockKnock*

Your heart raced as your eyes locked with the door. It was locked with the door knob and the chain lock. There was silence except for the nonsense that was on the television. Your conscience told you not to get up.

Don't do it. You know who it is.

"Darlin'?"

You felt your body go numb upon hearing Cecil's voice from the other side of the door.

"Stedman, it's over." You shout in instinct.

"Please just open the door." Cecil begged.

"I'm through, Stedman." You yell back.

You stiffled your sobs into the pillow, hoping Cecil wouldn't hear them but he could. And Cecil felt a heavy weight in his chest upon hearing your sobs you were trying to hide. But he knew begging wouldn't get him anywhere, it would just make things worse.

"Okay if you won't open the door, will you just hear me out?" Cecil asked.

As much as you wanted him to just go away, you didn't leave him much to say when you left the house. It was the least you could do.

"What do you want?"

"I know I'm a piece of shit. I know. I treat you horribly, yell at you, take shit out on you. I do it all, I'm aware. And I'm an asshole for not changing when I said I would. You deserve better, I meant that. You deserve someone way better than me. But.." Cecil paused, gathering the right words to say, for he has never been this sentiment before in his life to anyone other than maybe Donald, his number one. "You. You have done fundamental change for me. More than I could ever put into words. Hun, I see light in this world now. It's not much, but fuck, it's something. It's more than I ever have in my years of living and doing what I do. I know you hate me and don't want nothing to do with me anymore, but please. I am literally begging you to give me one last chance. And you know me I don't ever fucking beg for anything, not even my own life."

Hearing Cecil quite literally beg for you to give him another chance for the first time ever did a number on you. Not only did it increase the tears falling down your face, but it brought back the happy memories you and him have. Through the bad ones though, the more you thought of it, the good ones slightly oversaw the bad ones. The many dates y'all had, the nights you both would stay in and be with each other, the drinks and food y'all would engage with, the intimate, loving moments, they all came souring back into your mind.

Fuck.

Despite it all-

"I love you so much, darlin'." Cecil's voice cracked, "Please."

-you fucking loved him.

Without answering, you put the pillow onto the bed, slowly crept to the door and held your fingers over the chain link. Was this what you wanted?

Yes, yes it was. Cecil has never professed his love like this for you before ever in his life. Something changed. You weren't sure what it was but it was enough. It was enough for you. You slid the chain lock undone, undid the lock on the knob, and swung the door open. Standing there in front of you was a different Cecil, a Cecil you have never seen before. His face was red, with fresh and old tears staining his face. His expression softened once you opened the door and he saw you. Cecil even cracked a smile. You couldn't help but do it back to the ol' southern bastard. The ol' southern bastard that you loved and wanted to be with.

"Can..Can I come in?" Cecil asked.

"Yes, Cecil."

~

[liwinly]

( ౨ৎ ) ──────── UP!

MELODiES AND MEMORiES ── prompt 12 / / ni-ki x fem!reader .:. g. fluff , bestfriends to lovers ..: w. skinship ( hand holding , hugging ) 𓂃 wc. ~ 1000 ;. lily's note. made this for mei or @miukidoll <3 (I told you it's nothing scary) hope you like it ���� btw I'll try to post chapter 1 of fooled hearts next week!!!

It was a usual Saturday afternoon. You were sitting on the grassy field at the park, waiting for Ni-ki. It was a thing you two always did, hanging out and having fun. Ni-ki, your best friend since you could remember, had promised to meet you after he finished his practice session for his school soccer team. He always had a smile that made everything feel better, and even though you had known him for so long, it always made your heart skip when you saw him.

You looked at your phone, tapping your foot impatiently. He was taking forever today, and you just wanted to have fun with him. That was the thing with Ni-ki—he could always make even the simplest things fun, and today, you had a new idea for something to do. You’d been thinking a lot about it, and it made your cheeks turn red just imagining it. But you didn’t want to mess up what you had with him. What if he didn’t feel the same way?

A sudden voice broke your thoughts.

“Y/N! Sorry I’m late!” Ni-ki called out as he jogged over, waving his hand.

You smiled at him, your worries melting away the moment his eyes met yours. “It’s okay, you’re not that late,” you said, though you knew you were lying. You were just glad to see him.

“Good. So what are we doing today?” Ni-ki asked, plopping down next to you. He sat so close, his shoulder brushing against yours. You didn’t mind, though. You actually kind of liked it.

“Well, I thought we could play that silly game you like,” you said, referring to the one where you two would make up random rules and try not to laugh.

Ni-ki grinned. “I’m in!” He slapped your back playfully, and the impact made you giggle. “But first, I need a snack.”

You laughed and pulled out a bag of chips you had been snacking on earlier. “Here, I brought these.”

Ni-ki took the bag with a grin. “You always think ahead, huh?” he said, popping a chip into his mouth.

You shrugged. “I know you too well.”

For a moment, the two of you just sat there, eating chips and chatting about random things. The wind picked up, and the sun was starting to set, casting a warm, orange glow over everything. You both sat back and just enjoyed the moment, your bodies leaning against the tree that was shading you. Ni-ki’s presence was always calming, like everything was right when he was around. But today, you couldn’t help but feel something more when he laughed or smiled at you. It felt like there was more than just friendship between you two. But you didn’t know if you should tell him.

The game you played together was always goofy. It was just a way for you two to laugh and forget about everything else. Ni-ki was always full of energy, even when he was tired from soccer practice. It didn’t matter how many people were around or how embarrassing it got, Ni-ki would always be willing to make a fool of himself for your sake.

As you were trying not to laugh at his ridiculous dance moves, Ni-ki suddenly grabbed your hand.

“Hey, no laughing at me!” he said, his face serious but the spark in his eyes showing he was joking.

You stared at his hand in yours. It was warm, his fingers wrapped around yours in a way that felt...different. Your heart started to beat a little faster, and you wondered if maybe he felt it too.

“Ni-ki…” you whispered, your voice coming out a little quieter than usual.

He looked at you, his expression softening. “What’s wrong, Y/N?”

You didn’t know why you were so nervous. You had always been close, always known each other inside and out. So why did this moment feel so different? You glanced at your intertwined fingers and then back up at his face.

“I don’t know... I just... I don’t know what’s happening,” you stammered. Your face turned red as you realized how silly you sounded.

Ni-ki chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling. “You’re acting weird,” he said. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

You didn’t know what to say next, but it felt like everything in the air had shifted. Ni-ki leaned his shoulder against yours, a gentle touch that made your skin tingle.

“You know,” he started, his voice quieter now. “I like hanging out with you, Y/N. Like, really like it.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “I like it too…”

Ni-ki looked at you then, his gaze intense but kind. “I mean, like, a lot. More than just friends. You’re always so cheerful and fun, and I don’t know... it makes me feel like I can be myself. Like... it’s different when I’m with you.”

You felt your cheeks grow even warmer. “Me too, Ni-ki. I feel like... I feel like I can tell you anything. You make me feel happy.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and before you could say anything else, he suddenly pulled you into a hug. It wasn’t anything crazy—just a simple, warm hug—but it made your heart race like crazy.

“You make me happy too,” he whispered into your hair.

You stood there, your heart beating loudly in your chest as you hugged him back. His arms felt strong and comforting around you, and for a moment, you didn’t care about anything else. The world could have been falling apart, and you would’ve still been okay as long as he was holding you.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Ni-ki pulled back, his hands still resting on your shoulders. He smiled at you again, and this time, it felt like the smile you had always been waiting for.

“Y/N, I think... I think I like you more than just a friend,” he said, his voice soft and unsure but sincere.

Your heart fluttered. "I like you too, Ni-ki," you said, your voice barely a whisper.

Ni-ki grinned. "So, are we finally on the same page?"

You nodded, smiling so wide your cheeks hurt. "I think we are."

As you sat back down, still holding his hand, you knew this was just the beginning of something new. No more wondering, no more holding back — just the two of you, rising up together.

── .✦ @woniefication @sugarikiz @slayyuna @amoressb @irasvr @miukidoll

[dallasgallant]

Time period post- appliances and thrift

Originally was going to skip making this post, as I thought it’d be boring but I was informed (many times) how it was wanted. Going to combine appliances and some thrifting and shopping related things. As I think it would be beneficial, as the boys are poor/impoverished so we should look at some of that side of purchasing - as many of my general time period posts are very middle class to soc range (at least in the images of new cleaned and polished) Home related posts;

Here and here

Something to keep in mind is location and the community. Some places, especially smaller towns take a long time to change or update, a lot of “mainstreets” or “squares” in older parts of town have the same buildings or styles from maybe even when they were first built or at least updated in the 1960s and still look like it today. So imagine back then! Lol. Even if a community has a rich minority, like the socs- that’s no guarantee the area modernizes into something brand new over night.

Convenience, gadgets and built ins-

Truly the time to be a lover of the gadget or the trinket. The continuation of post war production boom and making products with the idea of convenience in mind. A lot of it was ridiculous but really there was some cool stuff. The big trend was : Automatic and electric.

Electricity and electric things had really started to take to the public in the 1880s and we never really stopped electrifying basic items. Notable cases here; Electric knife, electric beaters/mixers (still hand held but not done by hand), electric/motorized can openers.

Gadgets! Things that would’ve been done by the stove and the over now with dedicated little devices. Now toasters and waffle irons and grittles had already been around for some time but were booming. Meat grinders (electric ones anyway), roasters, blender, drip coffee maker, hot trays/warming trays.

Another reason for the rise in gadgets or specific tools like a warming pan would be just how popular hosting and throwing parties was. (Much more soc). At the same time as more specific gadgets were made there was also a trend of combining! As kitchens were small and again, connivence.

You’d also see radios or even later counter tvs (impossibly tiny) pop up in kitchens.

Laundry-

A lot of homes at the time would only have one bath, especially if older and it was likely added in (if very old), so forget a laundry room. However, they were slowly rising in popularity and bathroom numbers too in more modern homes. Laundry machines did exist for a while but it’s sort of like electricity and AC some people didn’t have them or are still getting around to getting them — and when they did it’d sometimes be on the porch or garage or where they’d fit.

Laundromats would populate towns, still do but in this case it was less common than today to have a full set and bonus gadgets in your home. (Though your iron etc at home) or maybe there’d be a woman who does it for the neighborhood or apartment complex etc (headcanon Steve’s mom as a washwoman. I know they still existed but all the info I get is 1700s Scottish women… I feel insane)

Not so fast -

The world wasn’t like it is with microtrends and using/wearing/having something for a week or a summer and then tossing it out. There were trends but far longer lasting, and if someone was to make a commitment to say doing their home in a design trend, once all that work is done they wouldn’t change it for years (some never do! Look at all the untouched houses on the market every so often)

Appliances were made to last and often came with a Warranty, either discounted or free replacement or repair for a certain period of time. If you’re lucky a lifetime warranty. This stuff was built to last a lifetime! Tough, dependable, durable. It’s why the “garage fridge” exists in so many middle class homes today, it’s out of style but it still works perfect so now we have a soda fridge or extra storage.

Honestly if you had to replace or update annually back then it’d probably be seen as a bad or cheap product!

This isn’t to say people never updated, or changed based around style. But you first have to have the money for it and two it’s a treat, not a regular occurrence. So maybe in 10 or 20 years if you need new kitchen appliances or would like to restyle you go for it.

Thrift and used-

Especially relevant to the guys. Think it’d be rare if they bought a single thing new - that wasn’t used or loaned etc

Thrift stores, surplus stores, charity’s, churches, there’s always been ways to get things at a much more affordable rate. Even thrift food stores in some circumstances (no it’s not pre used).

Used car lots were also incredibly common, honestly it’s how most kids got their first car. Most people really! Now if you didn’t get totally swindled.

Thrift isn’t just relegated to physical thrift stores either, a lot of local businesses (places that aren’t the department store or major chain) would often have a used section or “used store”. Appliances, records - just about anything.

Layaway! A store sets an item or a bunch of purchases aside and you make incremental payments until the purchase is paid off. Then it’s yours. (Began during the Great Depression)

Rental, and rent to pay started conceptually post ww2 but Rent-A-Center itself was founded in 1973 so I’m not completely set on renting.

Coupons! Another way to save money and be able to make purchases, given in newspapers, adds, by the stores themselves. Rewards programs really kicked off in the 60s, one of the most common being S&H Green Stamps. (Some hang on the builtin board in the museum.) these would be gotten at check out and some other businesses and collected by customers, to be redeemed for items from their catalogs. You could get everything from appliances to makeup from how you saved and spent.

While I’m not getting into it, I did include thrift and some other things that are more relevant to the boys -> 1964 Food Stamp Act that saw the Creation of SNAP (food stamps) would be huge. However programs stem all the way back to the depression once again, more here

They Would have way older appliances and machinery- 40s old sometimes. Boys specifically have a Dixie stove and this old washer is an assumption of mine (if they had one at all!!)

[a-twistedheartslonging]

Okay, so I'm pretty sure that somewhere in your Non-human AU you wrote a bit about the beasties in general with a human that has a bigger body and how they wouldn't really care since their human would be smaller regardless. (Correct me if I'm wrong).

I wanted to know if you could elaborate on that more. On a more NSFW note, do you think it would be different when diddling if their human was thin or if they were chubby/fat?

-🐭 Anon

Yeah, when it comes to beasts, a lot of them tend to be pretty big, especially the predators. I mean, sure, there are some smaller beasts out there, but for the most part, being large is just kind of the norm for many beast species. So, like, even if you're a human who's on the taller or thicker side, the beasts might still call you small and treat you like you're tiny.

It's all relative, you know?

I don't think there would be that big of a difference for them, nsfw or otherwise except for some small things.

If you're on the thinner side, don't be surprised if your beast starts trying to fatten you up and bundle you in layers. They know it's not easy being warm when you don't have a fluffy fur coat or downy feathers to keep out the chill. And with less natural padding on your bones, staying toasty is gonna be even more of a challenge. Your beast will probably be slipping you extra snacks and treats, hoping to put some meat on those skinny limbs. Don't fight it too much - a bit of extra insulation will do you good when the cold winds blow. And get used to your beast draping you in sweaters, scarves, and coats every chance they get.

They just want their scrawny human to be warm and protected from the elements. It's hard out there for a thin-skinned, nearly-hairless primate, ya know? So let your beast coddle you a bit - it's just their way of showing they care about keeping their fragile little human healthy and comfortable, even if you are a bit lacking in the squish department.

Some might like it a bit too much how they can easily fit their hands around your waist like some kind of personal toy.

If you're fat/chubby, you may find yourself on the receiving end of more intense physical affection from some beasts, especially the tweels. They seem to have a natural fascination with soft, squishy tummies and love to grab handfuls of belly fat, giving it playful squeezes, pokes, and bites.

They really like if the difference in height makes it, so your gut rubs against their crotch area when hugging/close together.

Along with the tummy grabs often comes nibbling - those pointy teeth can't resist gently biting into yielding flesh. And of course, aggressive snuggling and cuddling is par for the course, as chubby bodies make for warm, comfy places to burrow into. Don't be surprised if curious fingers also start tracing any stretchmarks streaking across your stomach, hips or thighs. Though they will assume their just some kind of human stripes. Excited if you developed new ones. They find the texture and patterns quite intriguing.

Hmm, not a whole lot of nsfw is coming to mind so if anyone wants to add thoughts or ideas, please do.

[felixcloud6288]

Dungeon Meshi Chapter 80

Marcille is serving you this delicious nothing she made.

Everyone's concerned about getting digested but I'd also worry about them asphyxiating. It's not like there's any reason there should be air in the coatl's digestive tract. However, the coatl having a large cavity in it probably resolves that issue.

Quick reminder: Izutsumi is the only one who doesn't wear shoes.

Laios, your goal is not to get eaten by Marcille....right?

I could the sound of a toilet flushing in this image.

The design of this building reminds me how Ambrosia looks. It's not a singular tree; it's a series of interwoven vines. Not sure if the star fruit is something she likes to eat or if it's just for aesthetic.

Ohh. It's Pipi.

Marcille! What has the lion been doing to you! What's happened to your hair!

Even if we removed the Winged Lion's actions, Marcille not wanting to talk to the Canaries is perfectly understandable. Mithrun did stab her after all.

But yeah, Marcille is making the same face Thistle makes when anyone said anything contradictory to his desires. The Winged Lion wants its master to become obsessed with their biggest desires since that will make them tastier when it decides to eat them. So one of the first things it likely does is strip away the lord's desire to be reasonable.

Awkward...

If I had to try ascribing a biological explanation to why half-elves live twice as long as elves, I'd say it's because of some oddity caused by gene regulation of telomerase.

Our DNA is stored in bundles called chromosomes and our chromosomes are linear, meaning there are definite start and end points in them. When our cells divide, they have to make copies of their chromosomes. However, small bits of the ends of each chromosome cannot be copied over. So cell division causes some bits of DNA to be lost.

To compensate for that, the endpoints of our chromosomes have small repeating sequences called telomeres. Each time our cells divide, a small number of telomeres are removed from the endpoints. Then a protein called telomerase synthesizes and attaches new telomeres.

Most of our cells are not allowed to produce telomerase because that could quickly lead to the cells becoming cancerous. Cells also have what's called the Hayflick limit which is the point where the cell will stop dividing because its telomeres have become too short.

Assuming all the human species are fairly similar genetically, elves would likely have a greater number of telomeres in their chromosomes or maybe have some mechanism where their cells produce telomerase in a very restricted capacity.

However, since half-elves have chromosome pairs that are close but not quite matching, there might be something that causes them to produce too many telomeres. Marcille mentions that the long-lived races' lifespans are getting shorter so maybe elf genes have a coded maximum and preferred number of telomeres and the preferred number changes due to environmental pressures. But Tall-men don't have anything like that so it causes half-elf cells to produce the maximum number of telomeres during development instead.

As a side note, elves and dwarfs probably have more cancer-preventing genes since they live so much longer.

Marcille is starting to do that finger-biting thing Thistle did. It's the exact same finger too.

Why is the lion posing all sexy?

There's a pretty clear idea why the lion decided it wanted Marcille to be the new lord. If the entire world gets put into a dungeon, then the lion will have free access to anyone it wants to feast on. Still no idea why it originally wanted Laios as the lord though. Maybe Laios would be good for maintaining things until a better lord came along.

Did the Utaya dungeon lord wish for something similar? Did they make a wish that necessitated dragging the entirety of Utaya into the dungeon or break the barrier between the interior and exterior of the dungeon?

Okay. So the lion knows Mithrun because all the demons are extensions of the same being.

The lion can't think of any reason Izutsumi would be helpful. It's trying to butter-up the party to make them join and it can't think of a single thing it can say to flatter her.

And the thing is, the lion could probably easily get Izutsumi on-board by just offering to turn her into a full human. She's only with the party because she was hoping the dungeon's power could do that.

Senshi and Chilchuck seem to be standing their ground about not using the dungeon's power. Izutsumi is avoiding Laios's gaze instead. She probably wants to join Marcille so she can have access to the dungeon's power. If so, she can't bear to look at Laios and tell him he can't.

Laios describes Marcille's actions as forcing people to eat only what she likes. Everyone laughed at Marcille's intent to expand everyone's lifespans to 1,000 years. Even if she thinks it's good, no one else agrees.

Does Laios really look like Marcille's father? And did that have any effect on how she behaves around him? Alternatively, does Marcille not remember exactly what her father looks like and she's using Laios's face to fill in the blanks?

Izutsumi's gonna tear a hole in Senshi's clothes if she's not careful.

You only just realized it?

back

[autonomousxselves]

He stares quietly at the man for a long while. Kasukabe's wording made it clear he held some sort of protectiveness over those Phantom Thieves of Hearts, whether they knew eachother at some point or the ex-politician just rooted for them to win. It was even more clear they would get nowhere with this distrust in the air. At this rate the two will just keep asking vague questions in circles, but Ken was certain this man knew more than he was letting on by this point. The silence stretches onward as he keeps his gaze steady.

"I can't tell you everything," he finally answers. His tone holds no frustration, rather understanding all things considered, but his fingers tighten around the suitcase handle. "But we have no intention of harming or arresting this group. We have an idea of how they commit their crimes, and it leads directly back to the heart of our operations. So we need to have a discussion with them at some point. If anything, we would offer these kids protection from their enemies." Both physically from the Shadows they must be fighting, and likely crossing them out of the wider government's eyes.

"They are only one part of this case, with many, many others tangled in the lines. With just a little more information, we can confirm what we need to know to continue our duties. I'm sorry I can't be much less direct, but it's important both to them and to all of Japan, if not the world." Yes it sounds dramatic, but the entire thing really was dramatic. Ken himself had nearly seen the end of the world first hand at least twice now due to these Shadows, and the scenery last Christmas could have been a third attempt from something else. The operative couldn't let that slide by without a fight now.

After another moment of thought, he continues to a new tactic. "Tell me, have you heard of Jungian psychology? Mr. Jung had some intriguing theories regarding the self. A collective sea of souls, the Shadows in one's mind we fight, the Personas we all put on..." He ignores the blatant side eye from Koromaru. He just wanted to see how Kasukabe would react to these words, though based off the resonance floating in the room like static Ken has an idea what it would look like. "All very fascinating topics that we like to study in the office."

Just like Ken, Toshiro pauses to carefully choose his words. He's been thinking to himself for a while that the Shadow Operatives might very well be aware of the Metaverse and all that lies within it, but he doesn't have any actual confirmation of that fact. Moreover, their trustworthiness is another matter entirely. Toshiro's not so arrogant as to think he's somehow above them, or that they wouldn't be able to help him - in all honesty, the opposite is more likely to be true - but the fact that they work for the government at all is enough to set off some red flags.

Especially considering what he now knows about Shido.

"Before I answer, do you mind if I ask a question first? Sorry. I'm not trying to be frustrating." he does feel a little bad for sidestepping Ken's question and for his vagueness, which he's sure isn't what Ken's looking for. But this is something he's not going to budge on.

"What exactly is the purpose of this investigation? Are you still looking into the Phantom Thieves? If you find them, what are you planning to do?"

Toshiro's more than aware how suspicious his answer sounds, but he can't think of any other way to approach this than to be direct. Even if Ken figures out that Toshiro's made contact with the Thieves, that won't give him enough to figure out who they are - at least, he hopes that's the case. They've all been careful not to get the public eye on them, at least.

"I know that you probably can't tell me much. I apologize if I'm making things difficult for you, but... you can understand where I'm coming from, right?"