#we also have 5 days to go so there's still time!

[hwaslayer]

[untitled] (khj) | one.

⎾ SERIES MASTERLIST | SERIES PLAYLIST

⎾ SUMMARY: hongjoong hasn’t been worried about anyone besides himself for a long, long time. he’s spent years dodging the idea of responsibility by getting into trouble and late-night chaos and running from a broken family he has tried to keep tucked away in the past. when unexpected circumstances name him the sole guardian of his 15-year-old step brother, suhyun, hongjoong finds himself struggling to be the person his brother needs him to be especially because they’re strangers. throughout his journey of stepping up, healing and facing the past, he meets you— someone who also comes to see the best in him and sees him as more than just a lost cause.

⎾ PAIRING: kim hongjoong x f. reader

⎾ GENRE: (18+ - minors dni) badboy/fuckboy, strangers to lovers, found family/slice of life au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

⎾ WORD COUNT: 3.7k

⎾ CHAPTER WARNINGS/CONTENT: cussing, basic intros, setting the foundation for the fic lol, mentions of like... idk, being in a a friends with [some] benefits kind of situation?, club scene, alcohol consumption/intoxication, mentions of a physical and verbal altercation, police activity, mentions of being injured because of said fight, somewhat of a slow start for now hehe 🤭

Love.

That's how Seonghwa looks at you— like you hold all of the love in your arms, in your eyes; like every inch of your body was designed with most rarest form of love, to be loved, to give love. He looks at you like you are love, and he hasn't come to know any other form of it. Even if takes days, months, years, Seonghwa is willing to be patient and willing to wait because you are the most rarest form of love.

Though, you're not sure what made you so deserving of Seonghwa and his love. His care. His support. His patience. He treats you so gently, like you're his entire universe. He's everything you had ever wanted, had ever asked for.

Even now, as you lazily and groggily step out of your room to him sitting in your living room/dining area. Hair a mess, body all exhausted. Definitely not club ready.

"Sorry, were you still napping?" Seonghwa asks sweetly as he keeps his eyes on you.

"Time to wake the fuck up, sweetie!" You yawn and run your hand through your hair before rubbing at your nose. Seonghwa scrunches his own nose, pure adoration in his eyes as he watches you try and wake yourself up from the sleep you were so rudely waken up from— courtesy of your childhood bestfriend and other half, Kang Yeosang.

"Why are you guys here so early?"

"Early?" Yeosang cocks a brow up. "It's 9. We said we'd be at the club by 10 and you.. just woke up."

"Oh shit." You rub at your arms. "How about I just stay in bed and you two—" Yeosang has his hands on your shoulders and forces you to turn back into your room.

"Mingi will not have it so go get your little skirt and top on or whatever you planned to wear." Yeosang slides your closet door open, making you shove him away.

"He's gonna say that we don't always go out like this, you know?" Seonghwa adds as he leans against your door frame.

"Right, yes! He's right for once." Seonghwa glares at him as you pick out your outfit, forcing yourself to get ready even though your body is yearning for at least 5 more minutes of sleep.

You did agree as a group to head out for once to celebrate Mingi's big promotion, so it's not like you could back out and disappoint your friend. 

With that being said, even though you aren't entirely��in the mood to dress up, you put on the cutest mini skirt and mesh top on in the bathroom— singing along to the songs Yeosang has playing on your TV's Spotify account in between taking shots and getting your makeup and hair together. You dance around and sing into your mic [makeup brush] while finishing the last touches, Seonghwa still having that same adoration in his eyes. 

It's cute, really. 

You two met during freshman year in college and ultimately got close through working in the Student Life Center as student ambassadors and tutors. That's also how you met Yunho, Mingi and Juniper. That's also how everybody gained this image of you two being the perfect couple over the past years. You would have thought that going into the real world, the adulting phase of your lives, things would have majorly died down—

It sure didn't.

In fact, it got worst. People pressing the idea of you two finally getting together and even getting married. Becoming one of those college sweetheart success stories that people love to hear about so badly. What's worst is the fact that you can find your own mother under this category. She was the biggest Seonghwa enthusiast, always pushing the fact that you should 'give the poor boy a chance because he cares so much.' You love Seonghwa, but you love Seonghwa as one of your dearest friends, first and foremost. He had always been kind, patient, supportive and caring but that was his nature. He never pressured you into anything despite all the talk, which you highly appreciate. But, you can't help but feel bad because you know he holds onto some kind of hope. Especially when he treats you so sweetly, like you're fragile and something he always has to keep safe. He doesn't always shy away from affection and showing you how he truly feels sometimes. And you're not gonna lie, Seonghwa was one of the most attractive people you have ever laid eyes on.

Maybe it's partially your fault that you let it happen and continue to let it happen. Letting small [especially drunk] makeout sessions happen, cuddling up against him, letting him hold your hand here and there; small, chaste kisses against the head, cheek, forehead. Never slept with the guy, but we'll leave it at that.

Maybe you should have done more to stop it. The whole friends with benefits kinda vibe you've got going on, but like, not really? Seonghwa knew it was the one way he could have you, a way to keep you close, so he deals.

Welp.

Who knows what the future holds, right? You say this now, but you could be headed into a future that does have Seonghwa in it as your partner. Or, it could be completely different and the complete opposite.

Who knows.

All you know is to live in the present and take things for what it is. Mainly focusing on your own happiness and growth. Focusing on the now;

Like where the fuck is your favorite lipgloss?

"Where's my lipgloss?" You toss your couch pillows aside, hands digging deep into the cracks of the couch to make sure it wasn't wedged in between [spoiler: it's not]. 

"Dude, why do we always run into something when we're in a rush? And it's always you!" Yeosang scolds you, peeking in between jars and containers on your kitchen counter.

"Is this it?" Seonghwa asks, coming out of your room with your favorite lip gloss in his hand. You gasp, running over to him with a smile on your face.

"Where'd you find it!"

"Underneath your nightstand."

"My lifesaver." You chuckle, Hwa's hand coming up to gently caress your chin.

"What to do with you?" He teases with a small smirk on his face.

"Seriously." Yeosang swings his keys around his finger. "So, can we go? Like, are you good or ..?"

"Yes." You playfully roll your eyes, shutting off your lights and grabbing your small black purse before heading out with the boys. The three of you step out of your in-law, one of your dads coming out to the porch to greet you while you continue to fiddle with your keypad and lock your door. Long story short— your biological father and your mom had divorced years ago. You had decided to stay with your dad being that your relationship with your mom wasn't the greatest [even until this very day]. Occasional visits would do, but even then, it served as a reminder as to why you made the decision to remain alongside your father. You feel as though it worked out because your mom got to travel, date around, and do all the things she had been dying to do post-divorce [maybe even during her marriage era]. During this time, dad found his boyfriend. Got married, moved into a new house across town and renovated your in-law so you would have your own space while still having a piece of home with you. Your mom had trouble with this for a long time, and quite frankly, you were upset that she was being selfish about it. You didn't talk to her for a good month or so until she started making the effort to reach out and slowly visit again. Make 'peace.' Stop causing unnecessary issues.

"Mhm." Your papa says as he slides the kitchen window open. "Hey to my handsome boys!" The two wave happily in response. "And what's the special occasion that's got miss thing looking like that?"

"Papa." You say, making him laugh while he holds a glass of water in his hand. "It's Mingi's celebration for his promotion and I'm being forced to go." You called your biological 'dad,' while your stepfather went by 'papa' to keep things simple, but meaningful and close to your heart. Over the years, Papa has been loving and supportive, and always so open, so sweet, so happy to share his culture with you. He loves to teach you new things, and he's the reason why you're able to change and shift your perspective especially when times get rough. He is patient, kind and absolutely perfect for you and your father.

"Forced?! He's your friend, if anything, you're going because you want to celebrate with him!" Yeosang bites back, making you squint and glare at him.

"If you squint, you'll see how they've got a knife held to my back."

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Y/N." Papa says, making you laugh.

"Yeah, jesus." Yeosang adds.

"Is dad showering?" Papa nods.

"He sure is. Running the hell out of that hot water." The three of you laugh. "I'll tell him you were heading out." 

"I won't be out super late."

"Enjoy yourself, sweetheart." Papa leans forward a bit. "And boys, you know I love and trust you both to death, and I say this all the time but I mean it with every bone in my body. Please stay safe out there and take care of my babygirl." He says with a look on his face that make both Yeosang and Seonghwa nod in agreement.

"Yes sir!" Yeosang salutes before the three of you are waving one last goodbye before walking through the side gate and out to his car. On your way out, you catch your neighbors also heading out— unusual for them at this time of night.

"Hi Mr. and Mrs. Kim!" You call out, with Yeosang and Seonghwa waving. Your neighbors were familiar with your friends since they were over often. They wave, Mrs. Kim looking exhausted next to her husband.

"Is everything okay?" Seonghwa asks.

"I've just got a migraine and chills, so we were going to go to the urgent care." Mrs. Kim says. "I was going to try to hold out until tomorrow, but it's killing me."

"I'm so sorry." You look at the time. "Where's Suhyun?"

"He's in his room. We told him we'd be right back and that he didn't need to tag along."

"Well, please be safe on your drive over. My dads are home if you need anything."

"Of course. Thank you." Mr. Kim nods. "You three be safe too, and enjoy your night." You all wave as they drive off.

"I didn't clean my car yet so—" Yeosang cheekily smiles when he pops open one of the back doors for you. "Ta-da! Enjoy sitting next to my gym clothes!"

"Kang Yeosang." You get comfortable sitting in the back seat even though you whine about it. "Can you at least pick up your empty water bottles?" You pick them up from the floor and gather them neatly onto the empty seat next to you— ontop of his pile of laundry.

"She's just like you." Yeosang mutters to Seonghwa.

"I mean she's right, you could at least do that."

"You both can walk to the club!" Yeosang makes a hard brake at the stop, causing you to brace yourself before you could crash into Seonghwa's seat.

"You have got to be joking!" You smack him upside the head. He laughs as he continues to drive off normally, the club located in central downtown about 30 minutes away. The ride is fairly calm, Seonghwa making sure to keep Yeo in check until he gets into the main area. He circles the streets for a bit until he's able to find street parking about two blocks away. 

It isn't too cold, or else you'd honestly be dreading the walk to and from. 

When Seonghwa hops out of the passenger seat, he swings your door open. He gives you a small smile and a tap on the nose, chewing his gum to keep him distracted from the breeze.

"You should wear this until we get inside." He sheds off his jacket and throws it over your shoulders.

"It's not too bad—"

"Still, don't want you getting sick."

"She'll survive." You pump-fake a punch when Yeosang responds, making him flinch and giggle. "Kidding!" You roll your eyes and shake your head.

"Are Mingi and them inside already?" Hwa nods.

"Yeah, they said to just tell the bouncer we're with him and they should let us in." You cling onto Seonghwa's arm as the three of you continue the journey down the blocks— the enormous line to get into the club coming in view. You walk past the groups waiting to pay their fees and get through the bouncers, happy you don't have to wait in that line since the wind is picking up. Seonghwa tells the bouncer that you're here with Mingi and he responds with a nod before stepping aside to let you inside the busy, chaotic club. It's almost instant when you spot Mingi's head at a table— holding a champagne bottle in his hand while he dances around with the bottle girls and the rest of your friends, familiar faces.

"Finally!" Juniper flashes her phone. "It's 10:30!"

"We're just a smidge late!" You hug her.

"You were napping, weren't you?"

"No?!"

"You didn't answer my texts."

"Okay, maybe? But, we're here now!"

"And you need to catch up! Let's go!" Mingi butts in, taking your hand to show you to the table where all the alcohol is laid out. You greet the rest of the group, Mingi leading another round of shots with everyone. You take another with Yeosang and Seonghwa alone, then Yunho and Juniper; the list goes on, the shots continue.

The world is spinning.

But, at a good level. Just enough. 

The DJ is really good tonight, and he's playing all the right hits. You dance around and enjoy yourself with your friends, mainly dancing along with the boys and Juniper. Giving Seonghwa some alone time in between getting pulled left and right. He doesn't drink much, but he's here to have a good time to celebrate Mingi with the group. So, he will take shot after shot. He'll let loose, he'll be a tad bit more flirtier with you.

The group doesn't always go out like this, you know?

You dance with Seonghwa for a bit before you grab some of the bottled water lying in a bucket of ice on the table. You hang out near the railing that separates your group from the main dance floor, eyeing the crowd. Seonghwa comes from behind, resting his chin on the top of your head before holding onto the rail on either side of you.

"Damn, it got really packed."

"Yeah, they're like sardines on the dance floor." You sigh. "Fuck. That's great timing."

"What's up?" He tilts his head to the side and looks at you.

"I need to head to the bathroom."

"Bathroom?" Seonghwa clarifies. "I'll walk you over."

"You sure? You don't have to." He nods.

"All good. Don't want you getting caught in the waves of people alone. Let's go." He holds your hand as he leads the way to the women's restroom. There's a line, but Hwa quickly reassures you with a nod that he'll wait nearby until you're able to break the seal and use the restroom properly.

Which, thank god for his patience, because it took damn near 10 minutes just for you to finally make it inside and be the next person to grab the next available stall as soon as it opens. Besides the girl and her friends occupying the large stall because one of them is sick, everything else is relatively clean for a club bathroom. You feel more comfortable having been able to relieve yourself, washing your hands and checking yourself out in the mirror before finding your way back to Seonghwa.

He's against the wall, cautiously watching the crowd with his hands in his pockets. His eyes meet yours and he gives you small smile. You reciprocate, looking up as you approach him.

"Feel better?" He brushes your hair back and you nod.

"Yeah." 

"Good." Seonghwa leads the way back to your friends at the VIP table. There's so many people that it's impossible to keep your hand laced with Seonghwa's; too many people trying to push through, move around. Hwa keeps turning to keep his eyes on you, your hands gripping the end of his shirt as much as possible while you navigate the sea of people. Suddenly, you feel a little suffocated, especially when you hear voices raising.

"The fuck did you say to me?" Is all you hear in the middle of the dance floor before the crowd is yelling for the two individuals to stop getting in each other's faces. "Get the fuck out of my face!" You continue to try to slip through the crowd unharmed, a little worried as you pass people with drinks in hand. Every time someone dances or moves too much, your anxiety just skyrockets believing you'd land right in the middle of an accident. Seonghwa continues to lead, and you're barely keeping up.

Passing through without damage does not last.

The crowd gets rowdier, waves of abrupt pushes and movements causes you to shift and bump into people, one individual damn near spill all of their drink on you.

"Oh my fucking god— excuse me!" You yell, arm and top slightly wet from their [now] close to half-full cocktail. Seonghwa's head whips back, his arm immediately coming around to block you after he pushes back. Another person's back bumps into Hwa's, causing him to push them away as well. He's lowkey getting irritated, ready to defend you with everything he's got.

"Back up." He groans, looking at the stranger next to him. The stranger glares at him, but is quick to forget when dude in front is calling for his attention with another push. Hwa steps to your side, guiding you out of the chaos before it can get worse. "You okay?" He tuts, grabbing a napkin from the table to help wipe you down.

"Yeah. What the hell is going on there?" You look at the crowd, a fight starting in the middle of it all— hence, the abrupt movements and rowdy yelling. There's two individuals going at it with each other; shoving, getting in each other's faces, punches thrown left and right.

It's messy.

And it doesn't die down, only gets worse, really. The bouncers are finally able to break them up, yelling that they need to leave the club immediately.

"Jesus, what was all of that for?"

"Drunk men being drunk men, I guess." Juniper shrugs, helping you wipe down the rest of your shirt. "Sorry you got mixed into that, bae." After Juniper and Hwa help you out, your friends trying to get back to the good vibes and good times.

But, the chaos definitely put a dent in that. 

You and your friends aren't dancing around as much, and towards the end, you all find yourselves standing around and talking to each other. The group doesn't stay for much longer after the fight breaks out— the fight lowkey killing the vibe and making you all realize it's almost too late to be surrounding yourselves with this mess. Mingi invites the group to eat at a nearby late-night diner, but you, Seonghwa and Yeosang agree to head home out of exhaustion. You bid your farewells, hugging your friends and giving them cheek-to-cheek kisses before gripping onto Yeosang's shirt as him and Hwa lead the way out of the club.

"Fuck, now it's cold." You shiver, causing Seonghwa to throw his jacket over your shoulders again.

"Better?" You nod.

"Thanks, Hwa." He smiles, but it quickly fades when you notice the police cars up ahead— officers hovering around while talking to two of the bouncers from the club. On the curb is one of the individuals— corner of his lip bleeding, brow bleeding. Small cut on his cheek. He's got his hands cuffed behind his back and he isn't doing anything but glaring at the police. He's doing good avoiding contact with anyone passing by, except, he manages to look at his surroundings the moment you three are making your way towards their direction.

"That's one of the guys who started the fight."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Bumped into him." 

"The hell are you looking at?" The stranger spits when he sees Seonghwa looking his way. He's got black hair framing his face, piercing eyes. Obviously got bite to him.

"Hey, be quiet!" The police officer says, making him scoff before remaining quiet. Head down, eyes glued back to the floor now.

"Can we get this over with? It's freezing."

"I said be quiet." Is the last thing you hear from the cop before you, Yeosang and Seonghwa have created enough distance. 

"What a way to end the night." Yeosang mutters, hands deep in his pockets. "You sure you two don't wanna eat?"

"I'm good. I just wanna get home." Yeosang nods. You finally make it back to the car, plopping into the back seat with Seonghwa's jacket still strung over your shoulders while Yeo kicks up the heat. You continue to look out the window, minding your own until Yeosang exits the highway and into your neighborhood. You see more cops down the street near the urgent care center that Mr. and Mrs. Kim went to, finding it odd that there's so much police presence tonight when it's relatively quiet.

"They're out and about tonight." Seonghwa says softly.

"Well, thank god we were still able to have our fun before it got crazy. And good thing you didn't get hurt in the crowd." Yeosang says, driving back to your place.

"Mmyeah." Is all you respond with, exhaustion hitting your bones quick. "Do you guys wanna just crash?" Seonghwa yawns.

"Sure, if you don't mind."

"And that means on the couch, buddy. Not in her bed."

"Kang Yeosang, really?" You say in a somewhat scolding manner. Seonghwa shakes his head and rolls his eyes, keeping his gaze out the window. Sooner or later, you arrive back home safely. Seonghwa already has a bag packed since he had initially planned on staying at Yeosang's. And, luckily for Yeo, he's left bits and pieces of his own clothes and toiletries in your space so he's got zero worries in the world.

When you step out of the car, you notice that Mr. and Mrs. Kim aren't back yet. You don't see their car out front, but you assume they might have just parked it inside the garage. You've learned they don't typically do that, but a one-off situation wasn't unusual. The lights are all off, so Suhyun must be asleep. 

They must all be asleep.

"Good?" Yeosang asks, looking at you.

"Just wondering if they got home okay."

"I'm sure they did." He gently pushes you on the back, making you swat him in return. "Please walk, I'm freezing." He whines, doing as you're told despite the weird feeling that's settling in your tummy.

⎾ TAGLIST: @asjkdk @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @thechaotictheoryy @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @jexizia @curse-of-art

[millersbby]

my cherry pie cutie pie

summary: where joel had a bad day. you try to help with a sweet treat and warm meal but he really is just a grumpy tired old man after all.

warnings: grumpy!joel (with good reason) no outbreak!joel, cursing, no use of y/n, pet names, fluff, slight angst, argument.

my note: haii first fic on here lmk what u think and what i can improve on ! be nice tho >:(

listen to cherry by ldr :)

it had a been a great day for you to say the least.

you had spent the entirety of the warm summer day cleaning. while that may not be the most exciting of tasks it didn't matter because you were also making a delicious pie. cherry pies weren't your favorite but they were his. baking was more than a love language to you. it was a way of giving back. not just to friends and family. but to a man that deserves it.

while you were prancing around the kitchen in your white tank top and long flowy skirt, joel was running errands.

that morning he woke up at 7 sharp to you snoring softly with your hair made a mess. he could feel his mood sour since the second he woke up. like he had woken up on the wrong side of the bed. nevertheless, he chuckled at the view, pressed a soft kiss to your temple and whispered a "goodmornin' baby" before he quietly freshened up with a shower and left your house leaving you in your warm bed cuddled up with your orange cat. the one he said got in the way but always ended up feeding and giving treats to.

he was off work that friday but had errands to run so he decided it would be better to get them out of the way sooner than later. he was tired shitless since he had been working late.

he knew you would have some sort of pastry for him to try when he got back and that's what he would spend the entire day anticipating. seeing you wait for his reaction hoping that just like every time, he would enjoy every bite and still ask for seconds.

he arrived at the construction supply store as he needed white paint for a white wall in your room you wanted him to paint for you. as you said it wasn't the right shade of white. he wasn't sure what that meant but was willing to fix what you thought needed fixin. as long as it kept you happy.

he was in and out of the store in 20 minutes and placed the can of paint in the bed of his truck before driving away to the grocery store. he only needed to pick up some meat for grilling and a couple spices.

by this time you were awake. you had risen to no joel next to you. you checked your phone and opened it to a message from him.

"came to run some errands. fed the cat and left some oatmeal on the stove for you. be home in a couple hours. i love you" -2 hrs ago

you decided to also start your day. you had breakfast, took a shower and did daily tasks like making the bed and did a few dishes. you wanted to have some lunch ready for him when he came back so you prepared some sandwiches loaded with lettuce, cheese, tomatoes and condiments. you prepared a pitcher of iced tea and got to working on some made from scratch pie.

you cleaned as you went and by this time it had been about 5 hours since joel left your home. the pie was in the oven and you had some sandwiches and iced tea waiting for him in the fridge.

you heard joel's truck pulling in.

he walked into the house but he looked as angry as ever. as he placed the grocery bags on the counter you ask.

"hey baby what's wrong?"

"stupid motherfucker at the store didn't shut the paint tin right n' there's white paint all in the bed of my truck" he replied. low and angry.

you furrow your brows and walk out to the parked car to see the damage done.

it was definitely worth being angry about.

you walk back into the house and to lighten up the mood say,

"atleast we know it's the right shade of white, right?" chuckling. he doesn't laugh, all you got was a side eye and sigh that made you feel awkward. then his phone rang. he emits another sigh.

"alright man ill go in. alright no problem, be there soon" he hangs up the phone on his boss and his hands rub his eyes as if hes only just imagining the day ahead of him.

you look at him like you were asking what happened. without having to ask he only says

"theyre makin me go in, something about mark bein too sick to go"

"oh, well i made some sandwiches for you to have around this time ill pack one for you" you say enthusiastically as if it was fate you had food ready for him.

"oh it's no use i'll be late if i stay here any longer. i'll buy somethin near the site." he says almost dismissing you.

"well okay, love you!" you say as he paces out of the door. only to be met with a shut door behind him.

"he didn't mean to close it so harshly."

"he didn't hear me."

it wasn't hard to convince yourself, he was having a bad day and now they even call him into work. you were understanding.

it was around 7 pm and you had a nice dinner ready.

you cooked the meat joel had planned to spend the day grilling outside along with oven roasted veggies and mashed potatoes. you were starving but still wanted to wait for joel to come back from work to enjoy your food and dessert together.

you decide to put on a movie while you wait for him, only to end up falling asleep.

you woke up 30 minutes later to joel taking his boots and coat off. you jump up to give him a hug.

"i missed you" you muttered into his neck. he smelled of man. you loved it. you didn't ask about his day. he was almost glad. he didn't want to talk about how he was counting down the hours to just come home and relax.

"i did too" he says low, voice aching with a tiredness not even sleep could fix .but you didn't wanna let go. you had spent the entire day anticipating him getting home what more could you ask for than a hug and dinner with a side of chit chat.

you finally let go.

"i made you dinner and some pie too!" you were excited to be in his presence. to marinate in his smell and give him the gift of a full stomach after a long day. he was excited too, but to relax. he wasn't feeling conversational and had forgotten about the tart sweet cherry pie waiting for him.

"alright alright let me go shower." he said as he walked down the hallway. you expected him to want to eat as soon as he got home. you as well were very hungry.

you grab his arm and as he turns around you exclaim "oh, don't you want to eat first? foods still warm! and i set the table, ooh! and i bought some napkins with lil cherries on 'em thought it fit the-" you say with a smile but he's quick to cut you off.

"can i not just shower really quick? it'll only be a minute" he almost had an attitude.

"well okay don't be too long though!" you say sarcastically as he just walks into the bathroom.

you don't think much of the encounter as you have been justifying his mood with the day he's had. you try to understand.

you finish plating the food just as he get out of the shower. he looks unreal. a salt and pepper man with wet hair, an old tee and pajama pants is a view you'll never get tired of.

"look at you old man, looking as handsome as ever" you say smoothly as you smile and reach out to hug him. he doesn't hug you back.

"now that i think about it im not all that hungry, sugar go 'head n' eat without me"

"can't you atleast try my food? doesn't it look great, i made your favorite pie too"

you weren't upset he didn't want to eat, it's that he didn't consider the time you spent and the work it took to make the food. not that you would ever complain, you enjoyed the process. that doesn't mean it wasn't tiring. you wanted to feel rewarded by him and the faces he would make when eating the dishes you prepare him.

"i’m real tired darlin' im sure it tastes just fine."

"just fine?!" it wasn't the use of words that pissed you off, it was the tone. he was dismissive.

"you know what i meant." his patience started to run thin. all he wanted was to relax.

"i waited all day for you!" you raised your voice slightly without noticing.

"i never asked you to do that! i never asked for all this, did i? i'm sorry i have a job and a life i need to take care of! sorry i don't spend my days sleeping and bakin lil cakes!" he didn't mean to yell, he hadn't even noticed he did until he saw your eyes pool with tears at the thought of him thinking you had no life. that you had no struggle or purpose other than being in the kitchen or in bed sound asleep.

although that's not what he meant, it is certainly how you took it.

you didn't want to keep arguing. but you were hurt. you took a deep breath as a tear fell down your face.

you walked away.

you went to your bedroom as your appetite disappeared into thin air leaving joel in the kitchen regretting his words. it was never in his intentions to say something so cruel and it was definitely never in his intentions to make you feel the way he did.

you did your nightly routine not even wondering what he was doing or where in your home he was. you just knew you didn't want to speak to him. you cared for him, you cooked for him, you even baked a pie flavor you'd never eat if he weren't there and he still found a way to make things your fault.

you slid into your bed and as you were about to shuffle over to turn the lamp off you hear a knock at the door.

"hey darlin? can i come in?" his voice was low, regret spilling out of his lips with every word.

"what do you need joel" you were angry, and hungry.

"brought you a lil somethin, can't let my girl go on into bed hungry"

you get out of bed to open the door and find joel with a wooden tray. on it was the food you prepared, re heated with two slices of pie on the side. each with their respective plates.

"i’m real sorry sugar, had no idea what was goin through my head speakin to you that way." he puts the tray down on your vanity and pulls you in for a hug. "do you really think i have no life? baking and cooking makes me happy but it's not all i do." you asked quietly.

"i was pissed off at the wrong person today, i didn't speak out of sincerity i spoke out of emotion, of course i don't believe what i said." you could feel the regret was really settling in.

"it's okay joel, i understand today was a rough day" you knew his attitude didn't come from no where. "don't matter sweetheart, you didn't deserve that, that's for sure" he reassured

you pull away slightly from the hug and his lips meet yours. it was a well needed kiss. you lead him to your bed as he picked up the wooden tray, careful not to drop anything "shall we feast?" he fakes a british accent.

"feast we shall." you mock.

it was the sweetest ending to any day.

[causeimcrayzeebee]

MAJOR TETRO PINK SPOILERS (for the whole thing basically)!!

wow. this was such a heartbreaking ending. i can’t help but be overwhelmed and emotional about everything that happened today,,,, i have so much to talk about but i just really can’t cover it all so I’m just gonna talk about my main takeaways from today!

i was so convinced it was gonna be tamba and was in hysterics cause i didn’t want it to be her… i am actually shocked hasegawa was the culprit— well, for the most part, save for during the camera discussion where i was yelling at my phone that hasegawa knew they were there (and somehow i was still not convinced he was the killer till the actual reveal), but in all honestly, this was a perfect end for his character. 

it really highlighted the decay of hasegawa ken. pre killing game, hasegawa lived a somewhat simple but comfortable life, with a loving family and a successful career. but of course, it seems he was without friends, coming home from school every day to continue studying in his room. then he entered the killing game, surrounded with 15 of his peers, and only 1 of them really became his friend. kamimura kazutoshi. hasegawa became attached to him, connected with him; he felt a love he hadn’t before. and then kamimura was taken away. the remaining students he was surrounded by were who he believed to be terrible people. now, hasegawa was truly alone. 

in hindsight it’s obvious it had to be him…. he couldn’t escape being suspicious for every damn trial n still survive lmaoo,,, of course he would come up with a convoluted, difficult plan that would’ve gone through just fine if it weren’t for monomoko intercepting.

speaking of monomoko, i was thinking about how tetro is so interesting in the aspect that it has supernatural elements like monomoko. she’s not a real bunny and is some kind of dimensional extraterrestrial being (im not caught up with staffside yet bear with me), but somehow, she’s far from the the scariest and most horrifying part about tetro. the things that are the most realistic and plausible to happen are the most fucked up, horrifying parts. in the words of hasegawa ken, real horror is knowing. knowing that it’s possible, knowing the evils of real people.

endings are difficult. even the best stories can have mediocre or horrible endings. but i have to shout out pink because while this technically isn’t the fully ending, it was such a fantastic end to a long journey. red had me tearing up. i did not expect a whole ass animation at all but it was so very moving. the colors and the shots were just amazing! but mostly what hit was the writing. the prose for that took my breath away, the little red riding hood theme was perfect. hearing sasaki one more time, narrating what could only be something from her journal, was a perfect way to wrap up sasaki’s life, and tetro pink as a whole. 

maybe hasegawa is right— maybe the pink cast are all terrible people. but maybe they’re also just human. maybe that’s the human response to their circumstances. and maybe humans just make human mistakes when pushed to the edge. 

looking at the remaining people was a knife to the chest, realizing it was only 5. and those exit interviews. oh my GOD the exit interviews. they’re both so similar yet so different to who the were before. wada…. oh my goodness wada…. “I’d have killed myself so sasaki could go to sleep” was so raw and filled with pain, i don’t think I’ll stop thinking about that answer. ojima and yanagi were both pissed at the people who took away what little childhood they had left, at the loved ones they took. i also found seki commenting on ojima not losing anyone particularly close interesting, because i think many of us acknowledge the absolute devastation of people like hasegawa losing kamimura or wada losing Isono and Tsuno, but we often forget how this would be for everyone else. ojima was close with everyone; everyone was closer than the average group of people because they were put into hell together. even if a student wasn’t super close to someone who died, that was someone they knew who was murdered. EVERYONE lost the deceased 11 people. tamba and hiroaki are both so much more shaken up, more quiet and more defeated. they went into the game as people who took every opportunity to get the upper hand and be better, but now they’ve been beaten to a shell of who they once were.

so with this, our surviving cast is going home. but did they really even survive? yeah, we have survivors technically, but really we’ve witnessed the brutal killing of 16 students; 16 people; 16 KIDS. and there will be more.

thank you von, the vas, and the editors for working so hard on such a beautiful project. im beyond excited (and terrified) for blue!

[svnghxxn]

ᯓ𐙚 . ˙ Lucky I’m your soulmate. . . Pt 1

SOULMATE AU

f!reader X soft!sunghoon

Part 2 coming soon, seeing how well this does

Content :: Fluff, worshipful Sunghoon, SUNGHOON HELPING YOU BATHE but not in a sexual way ifywim

Note :: I have written fanfics before but it’s been a while, I have no idea how to navigate this app, I kinda had a thought and I made the acc, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE give me feedback (but don’t be harsh) I know I’m not the best but I want to improve. Also tell me how to be aesthetic that’s my main inspo ANDDD give me Enha fic suggestions if you wanna idk how this works so pretend you’re talking to a 5 year old pls no abbreviations 😔

— — —

Everyone knows they have a soulmate from birth. Nobody is given a sign or hint about who their soulmate is, when they will show up, what they will be like, did I mention that they appear randomly? It’s not even an introduction, they just.. appear in your house! Pretty creepy, right?

This whole soulmate thing is universal. Scientists have been trying to find out what causes soulmates to appear. Is it based on the menstrual cycle? What if it’s based off spiritual beliefs? Who knows! All that we know is that soulmates appear randomly, and are supposed to be your other half, or whatever.

You, on the other hand, are waiting painfully for your soulmate to “appear,” maybe he could make all the troubles go away, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic, so watching compilations of soulmates “appearing” behind their beloveds while alone in your bedroom wrapped in blankets helped with your delusion that maybe you could have a cute moment like that, too. Even daydreams of your soulmate holding you as you slept helped you relax and find comfort on the hard mattress you called your bed every night.

You never imagined what your soulmate would look like, you didn’t want to set up unnatural expectations, and you wanted a little surprise! Though it was a low chance that your soulmate would look exactly how you expected, but still! You also hoped that he would have.. at least an average cock- come on! A girl has needs!!

It was the evening when you got home from work this sunny Friday. The sweltering heat making your seat buckle unbearable and almost suffocating as you rushed home, the AC wouldn’t help, your hair was down and it was like a furnace, making the back of your neck sweat like crazy. You almost fell asleep a couple times as you waited for the red lights to turn green. The honking of angry drivers behind you shook you back to reality. Your palms were sweaty as you held onto the steering wheel tightly, as if it were a lifeline, the only thing grounding you to reality.

Your schedule is stretched thin, all taken up by your stupid workplace, your routine consisted of waking up, brushing your teeth, doing your shift, going home, dinner, falling asleep. Sometimes you fell asleep in your work clothes, other times you would skip dinner to take a shower, you’ve been neglecting your health badly for the extra paychecks.

Thankfully today was your last day of painful shifts that make your legs hurt and pride hurt even more. Retail wasn’t the best way of making money, and the customers definitely didn’t help, it took everything in you not to spit back insults at those horrid people, but you bit your tongue and told yourself your job would be on the line.

You got home around 7:22 pm, the sun was still up in the sky but it felt like your day was already over. You managed to find motivation to do something before bed, to help yourself relax and start the next morning off on a good note. You had the weekend for yourself, might as well make the best of it.

You started by setting something up for dinner. You forgot to stop at the grocery store so you couldn’t make much, you mentally cursed yourself at the realization. You settled for something simple, easy on the stomach, you might need something light after only eating instant ramen and microwaveable meals the past week.

You got the ingredients ready, pots set up, and you stopped in front of the sink to wash your hands, it seemed your mind was on other things as the soap lathered and washed away the work of the day. Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t even notice a man next to you, watching your every move, it wasn’t until he reached out to touch your hand that you snapped back to reality.

“The fuck- AH!!” You yelped when you saw a hand reach out from seemingly nowhere, you stepped back abruptly, away from the man, and snapped your head in the direction of where the hand came from, to find an unassuming, very handsome, young man.

Your fear quickly turned to shock when it clicked, that wasn’t just a random man that broke in, it’s your soulmate! He looked at you with slightly widened eyes, his surprise didn’t meet his lips, his hand still hovering in the air from when he tried to touch your hand, but still, as if he’s waiting for your permission to touch him.

He has a quiet aura to him. His expressions are muted, barely there, but you can tell exactly what he’s feeling as if you two are connected—most likely from your soulmate link. His eyebrows, thick and dark, were the first place your eyes went to, it contracted with his pale skin, accentuating how his color palette was so elegant and attractive. His jawline was sharper than a knife, cleanly shaven. His lips are plump, slightly parted, they look divine, you’re too stunned to realize you’re leaning in slightly, your body already wanting a taste before your mind can catch up. His eyes are a gentle but deep brown, it makes you wonder how beautiful his eyes would look in the sunlight, or how innocent he would look with a shimmer in his eyes. His skin looks smooth and spotless, except for a few moles, one on his cheekbone, another one on the side of his nose, and one last mole near the corner of his mouth. His hair is dyed blonde, which looked absolutely stunning on him, it gave him another layer of innocence that you wanted to take away so desperately.

“You alright now?” Your soulmate says, his honeyed, deep voice filling the air, breaking the silence, breaking you out of your trance. “Oh- I’m good.” You lie, your voice escaping you in short breaths. You blink your surprise away, straightening yourself now that you’re practically melting under his gaze.

It’s not until you brush your hair out of your face that you realize how messy you look, still in your work clothes, hair greasy, sweaty from the car ride home, you most likely have eye bags from the quality of sleep your getting, and you probably broke out, you were too busy the past week to pay attention to something as tedious as skincare. Shame and embarrassment fills you and you squeak, immediately darting past him, not wanting to make a bad first impression, you sprint down the hallway to the bathroom.

“Wait- I want to know your name!” You hear your soulmate shout as you run past, you shout back an excuse. “Gotta shower! Later!” You stop in your tracks, the bathroom door almost closed when you hear his voice approaching the bathroom. “Can I help?” Your heart skips a beat at the thought. He doesn’t even know your name but he wants to help you shower?

The image burns itself into your mind. You, naked, relaxing under the water as his elegant, smooth hands run over your body—his voice snaps you out of your daydreams. “I’ll behave myself, I won’t do anything you wouldn’t want, Princess.” The pet name nearly makes your knees buckle. You never knew you had a thing for pet names, or was it the fact that he was your soulmate? Whatever, that was all it takes before you start to crack the door open more, and find your handsome, well groomed soulmate standing in front of the door, looking hopeful, almost eager to help.

“Come in.” You say after a moment, your mind running with dirty thoughts that would make a prostitute blush. He steps in once the gap is big enough for him to fit in, and you catch him glancing at your body, curiously, reverently, as if he’s undressing you with his eyes. “Thank you.” He says with a small, soft smirk.

“Oh- should I-“ you cut yourself off as your eyes widen, realizing that you might need to take your clothes off to let him help you shower. Your soulmate, wanting to watch you strip down, hesitates before turning around to give you privacy, as if he isn’t about to see you, touch you, in a few moments. You unbutton the work shirt you’re wearing, shimmying out of the uncomfortable pants you also have to wear. You unclasp your bra and let it fall to the ground, your panties discarded quickly after. He seems to know when you’re done, and turns around, not giving you a moment to say you’re done.

The moment he sees your body, it’s like the wind is knocked out of him. His calm, put together demeanor cracks when his eyes catch on your pert nipples, already hardening from the cool air, his gaze drifts down, drinking in the sight of your bare skin, gentle curves, his breath quickening with each moment, his eyes widening slightly like earlier, his hands twitch at his sides, as if holding back the urge to reach out and touch your soft, supple skin. You notice his wandering gaze and your cheeks warm up, you turn towards the shower and step in it, not giving him any more time to ogle your body.

“I’m behaving- I promise Princess.” He calls out with that teasing nickname that makes your thighs press together, ashamed that he got caught checking you out already, he tries to make it up to you. You don’t respond, still trying to process the fact that he’s seeing you, really seeing you, you step into the shower and turn the knob, the warm water beginning to spray out the shower head. Your soulmate takes the hint and follows you, stopping beside the shower, you hesitate before you turn to him, your heart skipping a beat when you see the look in his eyes, concealed lust, masked with an equally as real look of admiration. As if he wants to care for you and fuck you dumb at the same time.

“Can I?” He gestures to the loofa hung up in the shower, presumably asking to wash you, watching as the water starts to sprinkle from the shower head, cascading down your soft body, the same body he wants to worship and make love to. You turn to him, reading his expression before you nod. You would love for him to wash you. You’ve been waiting years to finally have your soulmate, and he’s here! You want to do anything and everything with him, helping you shower is the least of it, not even scratching the surface of your daydreams.

He immediately reaches for the loofa, squeezing some coconut scented body wash onto the loofa before lathering it, giving your body a once over before he looks up at you, slowly lowering the sudsy loofa onto your shoulder, your eyes drift to his face, his handsome, reverent expression, dark eyes locked on your body as the loofa drags across your skin, washing your arms and shoulders. His eyes have a fire to them, burning in your skin, as if he’s holding back the urge to do something.

Once he’s done with your arms and shoulders, his other hand finds your waist as he washes behind your ears, in your ears, your neck, the neck he desperately wants to mark, your collarbone, he hesitates before the loofa dips between the valley of your breasts, his other hand dragging up along your side to gently cup your breast, your breath catches in response, and his eyes flick to yours, as if checking if your okay, before the loofa begins or trace the curve of your breast. His movements aren’t sexual or romantic, just caring, like he’s nurturing somebody, not pleasuring them.

The loofa explores your chest, your abdomen, it travels to the small of your back, up your spine, and through it all, your soulmate looks determined, reverent, as he washes your body head to toe. He doesn’t seem to react as he moves down to your thighs, gently maneuvering your limbs so he can reach your inner thighs, not paying attention to the heat between your legs, before he moves down to your calfs, his free hand holding your hip.

For the first time since he started, he says something. His voice is softer, as if the words slipped out before he could stop them. “You look like a goddess..” His hand pauses on your other calf, glancing up at you with a hint of embarrassment at his words he couldn’t stop in time. You respond with a blank stare, your body reaching to the sight of him on his knees, performing such an intimate act before you, and that compliment? Your knees are weak. He doesn’t dwell on it, tilting his head back down as he finishes washing your lower half. After a while of watching his elegant hands travel your body, he stands back up. Meeting your eyes again.

“Do you feel better?” His voice is soft like last time, but his words are more intentional, meant for you. You step under the water, rinsing the body wash off as you nod. “Better than usual.” You admit with a smile, even if you daydreamed about many things with him, you wouldn’t, you cant act on them. It’s as if your body wants to keep the moment intimate, sensual but not sexual. Your not even sure if your prepared yet.

“Good. Let me wash your hair.” He says with a small smirk. You close your eyes and turn around, tilting your head up as he grabs the shampoo and squeezes some in his hand, he starts to work the shampoo into your scalp, the sound of the shower running and his hands massaging your scalp fill the air, and you let out a soft, almost inaudible moan as he moves his hands against your hairline in such a way that seems practiced, as if he’s done this before. He doesn’t seem to react immediately, feeling a warmth deep in his lower belly before he shuffles behind you, letting out a heavy breath before he continues to wash your hair.

“You should really tell me your name.” He whispers, as if the words are meant for you, only you. You come back to reality, forgetting that you don’t know his either. “Only if you tell me yours.” You respond, staring up at the ceiling as you feel his elegant fingers thread through your hair, expertly washing your hair. You hear your soulmate lean in slightly before he speaks in your ear, his voice deep, low, intimate. “I’m Sunghoon. Now what’s your name, pretty girl?” He quirks his head, a teasing smile on Sunghoon’s lips. The tone of his voice makes your fingers twitch and your whole body shudder, you close your eyes before you answer. “Y/N.” You hear him exhale and lean back, gently guiding your head under the water to rinse the shampoo.

“Pretty name for a pretty princess~” Sunghoon lets out an airy chuckle before shuffling again. You don’t seem to register his chuckle, or the way he seems to have a brick in his pants. This week has been long and a shower is exactly what you need. Your soulmate is just a bonus. Once he’s done with your hair, he moves to turn off the shower, stealing a glance at the curve of your ass before stepping back, unable to take his eyes off you as he fetches a clean towel from under the sink, and unfolds it, reverently wrapping it around you, like your a fragile thing. He grunts as he manages to pick you up, his biceps flexing at the effort. You gasp at the sudden change and wrap your arms around his neck, your damp hair clinging to your skin.

He gives you a cocky smile as he carries you down the hallway and into your bedroom, you shiver along the way, not giving you any chance to react before he sets you down on his bed. “Dry yourself before I find some PJ’s, don’t want you to be cold, Y/N.” Sunghoon says gently, keeping his eyes locked on yours before he leans in and presses his soft, plump lips to your forehead, lingering on your skin before he pulls back and stands up, the kiss is a gesture that makes your heart skip a beat, a gesture that makes you stop and replay the moment over and over again. He turns around with an effortless grace, like it’s natural for him. He approaches your slightly ajar closet and begins to rummage through it.

As he gets to the closet, you can’t help but notice the ripple of his muscles as he sifts through the choices in your closet, and you thank the universe greatly for their choice in a soulmate. He’s absolutely perfect, he respects boundaries, he’s caring, he’s handsome, he’s the whole package!! and I bet he’s packing too.. You shake the unholy thoughts away and abruptly stand up, patting yourself dry, hurriedly towel drying your hair. In no time Sunghoon turns around with a soft smile, his eyes lingering on your skin before approaches you and sets an outfit on the bed.

It’s an oversized shirt, short shorts, and a matching pair of undergarments. Of course he would choose the most casual but enticing option. You don’t seem to care as you let the towel fall to the ground, Sunghoon turning around to give you more privacy before you slip on the panties, clasp the bra behind you, stepping into the shorts and pulling them up, and finally putting on the shirt. The short shorts aren’t visible as the oversized shirt swallows you whole, which is exactly what Sunghoon wanted when he picked out the outfit. He thought that maybe no shorts was a bit daring, so he compromised.

Like always, he knew when you were done, and turned around, his deep eyes roaming your body appreciatively before he steps forward. His toned arm slips around your waist and pulls you into his chest, your breath catches, but feeling his lips on the top of his head makes you relax, you huff against his chest before you wrap your arms around him, your arms are barely able to fully grasp him before he runs his fingers along your spine, through the oversized shirt, making your skin tingle and your body shudder from the intimate, light touches.

You feel Sunghoon’s lips smirk against your scalp, before he grips your waist tightly, lifting you with ease, your hands grab at his flexing biceps for stability as your startled again from his sudden actions, you quickly relax when he lays you down on the bed. Slipping beside you, his arms find their way around your waist again, pulling you against him yet again, his face nuzzling in your freshly washed hair. “Mm.. so pretty.” Sunghoon mumbles against your scalp, his voice intimate, smooth, his words meant for you, only you, his soulmate. “So lucky I’m your soulmate.”

Barely any time passes before you fall asleep in your soulmates arms, just as you fantasized before. Being wrapped in your soulmates warmth, his breath light against the back of your neck, his hard body pressed against your gentle curves, it’s like a dream come true. All your rough work days and sore feet are forgotten as you bask in Sunghoon’s embrace.

— — —

AGAIN PLS GIVE FEEDBACK I WANNA IMPROVE and also taking more Enha req, also smut coming next chapter if I’m not ashamed by the time I’m finished

[barmaidatthegarrison]

Green Eyes and Gunpowder (6/?)

Thomas Shelby x OC (Emily Hughes)

Summary - Sharp-tongued, steady-handed, and raised beside the Shelbys like blood, Dr. Emily Hughes weaves through their war for Birmingham with a surgeon’s precision—offering comfort, challenge, and quiet resistance, especially to the man who’s forgetting how to be anything but a weapon.

Word Count - 4,400

Warnings - Non-graphic animal death (the horse from season 1)

A/N - There's a lot going on. Many feelings.

Thanks for the support <3 Would love to know what you think!

Chapter 5

Her hands wouldn’t stop fucking shaking. Today was not a good day. None of this made sense because the day itself was quite successful – managing to get Thomas to let up on Ada and Freddie. But by God her hands wouldn’t stop fucking trembling. Doing anything today had been an exercise in futility. Then again, everything had felt that way since the War.

“She’s decided to keep the baby.”

Emily nearly jumped out of her skin, not expecting the interruption. She should be paying better attention, she knew that, and if she was anywhere other than the Shelby family kitchen, she’d have been ashamed of herself. Even here where she was safe, she was still a little embarrassed to be caught so off guard.

Working to stop the trembling of her fingers did not entirely succeed if the look on Pol’s face was anything to go by.

Emily just hummed, giving the potatoes one final rinse.

“I’ll check her over again after dinner then, make a birthing plan.”

Pol was silent for long enough that Emily’d almost forgotten she was there, or well, hoped she would leave soon. It would be nice to not feel so watched when she also felt so vulnerable.

“Daft girl.” Pol finally muttered, and Emily let herself breathe as the older woman marched out. She’d talk to Pol later about not being so harsh on Ada or maybe tomorrow. Hopefully her fucking hands wouldn’t betray her tomorrow.

“Move.” A second jump, more violent than the first, but this time one of Pol’s hands stopped her moving too much.

“We should put a bell on you.” Emily muttered and the older woman huffed.

“Give me the damn knife, stupid child.”

Blinking at Polly, it wasn’t until she was basically shoved aside that she understood. A small part of her felt ashamed, a larger one was so grateful.

“Thank you, Polly.” Her voice was small, thin. She knew she sounded like a young girl in that moment. She pressed her cold hands against the counter for a brief moment and caught her breath. The tightness in her chest eased just a touch. She hadn’t even really noticed it was there.

For a few moments she stood and let her eyes close and just breathe, just feel safe and okay and like she was in Birmingham. Like she was home.

Then she reached around Polly for the beef, but a hand caught her wrist mid-movement.

“I need to finish dinner, Pol.” She breathed, hand only barely trembling in Polly’s grasp. “You can do the cutting, but the last thing anyone wants to do is eat your cooking.”

She got a cuff about the head for that, which only made her chuckle, but she was allowed to continue.

Pol continued to cut the potatoes and Emily tried to hide her little grin – she was a softie at heart. This whole bleeding family was despite how they all denied it.

“Give me the gun.” She stood in front of him, blocking as much of the horse from view as she could.

She supposed it was a good thing that she’d stayed up with Tommy that night. That she’d been there when Curly came calling at his window.

Curly and Charlie were headed out the back now. Tommy wasn’t shaking, probably by sheer force of will.

She placed two hands on his chest and gently pushed him back. Water running down her forehead and into her eyes and soaking into his shirt. They hadn’t grabbed an umbrella before they came running and what was left of the downpour was still rolling off her.

“Give me the gun, love.”

He didn’t say anything, but he also didn’t fight back when her hand threaded into his. The gun came free when she pulled on it very lightly.

“Turn around, Tommy.” He still wasn’t moving, wasn’t speaking. He was still just staring at the white mare, at the beautiful girl who did not deserve the death it was about it have. “For me, Tommy. My Tommy. Please, turn around.”

She kissed him on the cheek, could feel him trembling now so very finely under her fingers. If she wasn’t touching him, even she wouldn’t know. It took so long for him to respond, until he finally blinked at her, lost and scared.

“Why does the horse need to be put down, Uncle Charlie?” He had been such an inquisitive child. “She’s not hurting nobody.”

“She’s too hurt, Tommy. She’s only going to be in pain, you see. This isn’t fixable.” He pulled the two of them closer to the pony, to show them the leg she couldn’t place on the ground. The way it was swollen and twisted incorrectly. “It’s a mercy.”

“Don’t feel like one.” He’d muttered, still so very distressed. For days after the pony – Current – had been put down, he was so sad. She hadn’t been used to Tommy being sad back then, it was a painful thing that she was now.

“Turn around, love.” She whispered and finally he nodded. Blue eyes wide and so young. “Let me do this.”

And he listened, turning his back to her. Her shoulders fell, and she turned to the horse. Running her hand along the mare’s head, she pressed a kiss to her nose.

“I am so very sorry, beautiful girl.” Her hands weren’t shaking right now. The moment Tommy started trembling it’s like her own stopped. The moment she decided to take the gun it all stopped. What had happened to her that this didn’t make her hands shake but cutting vegetables did?

When the deed was done, and her ears still rang with the bang, she turned away, getting Tommy back in her vision. His shoulders were high, the trembling heavier. She walked to face him, raising her hand to cup his cheek, to get his eyes to look at her.

Shell shock was not a hard thing to spot these days. He was not as bad as someone like Danny, she knew that, but that did not make his pain less real.

“It’s done. Tommy, we’re finished. Let’s go home.”

Getting him away from this place was her main priority. She threaded the fingers of both their hands together, walking backwards to pull him with her – there was no need for him to turn around, no need for him to see.

He was so very pale. And now that she was holding them, his hands were trembling just as much as the rest of him. Or maybe that was her. Or maybe that was both of them. The violence was done so her shaking could start again.

When she looked up, there was something wild and frightened in his eyes, something vulnerable and heartbroken.

Horses were special to him, reminded him of before, she knew. They had always been kept close to his heart, something that still brought him so much joy, reminded him of the boy who wanted to do nothing but work with horses all day. Innocent and sweet and naïve to the horrors of war.

As they passed Charlie, she told him it was done, to take care of the cleanup himself. To be kind to the mare in death. The fact that they hadn’t named her yet burned something in Emily’s chest.

That night she didn’t let Tommy settle alone. He was barely aware, movement slow and clumsy as he tried to undress. Her hands slid over his on the buttons, still again. She undressed him as gently as she as she could, taking care to talk to him softly as she did. Not about anything in particular, just gentle words and soft memories. He didn’t speak, but his stare was unwavering.

She was still so deeply in love with him, even a decade later, but any thoughts of passion tonight never even crossed her mind. She hadn’t allowed it to since that night- no. No bad memories tonight.

When she helped him under the sheets, he grabbed her wrist and said the first thing he had since Charlie told him the horse wasn’t saveable.

“Stay.”

“Okay, love. Let me get changed. I’m not leaving.” Not even to get her own clothes.

Beyond any ability for shame, she stripped in front of him, taking one of his nightshirts and slipping it over her own body. Settling in next to him, she pulled his head onto her chest, ear over her heart.

She trailed her fingers through his hair, touch light, trying to remind him that he wasn’t alone. That he was safe. She’d dried his hair off when they got home, but still some dampness remained. It was cold on her chest, but she didn’t mind.

She didn’t sleep until long after he had. Watching him rest settled her own breathing. Her hands shook again, but him being here made it bearable.

The next day Freddie proposed. He showed up at the house and shook Thomas’ hand. Shook Arthur’s hand. Shook John’s hand.

Hugged her, for the first time since the day she dug a bullet out of his shoulder, he hugged her.

“I stuck up for you.” She squeezed his arm. “You better not make a liar of me, Freddie.”

And he smiled, brilliantly, like every time he got away with a silly prank as a boy, like every time he got Tommy to go along with one of his ridiculous plans – which was rare, it was usually the other way around.

Ada slipped into his side and pressed close. “I know better than to disappoint you, Em.”

He kissed the side of Ada’s head and the Shelby girl beamed. More was coming, she knew, but for this one moment it was okay.

“Wedding before or after the baby do you think?” She asked rolling her eyes, “It’s not like you’ve done anything else in bloody order.”

Ada and Freddie’s wedding was nothing huge, but it was still sweet. They went to the registry office and had a small ceremony. The Shelby clan and Emily were all there, supporting bride and groom.

She was Ada’s witness on the marriage certificate and stood at her right as maid of honour. Being asked warmed her so violently inside that she thought she would combust. She was smiling the whole time, in such high spirits, so pleased to see the family getting along. Arthur was the one to walk Ada down what served as an aisle, and when the couple said ‘I do’ she smiled over at Tommy, the best man.

Today was a good fucking day.

“And that would be mine. Thank you, gents.”

The boys groaned as she took the pot in the middle of the table, offering a cheeky with to Arthur since half the money was his.

“You’re a cheat!”

“It isn’t cheating just because I’m better than you, Arthur.” She took a drag of her cigarette, grinning brightly at his faux-annoyed face. He wasn’t actually mad; she could always tell when it was real. Besides, he’d won most of the other hands tonight.

“It should be!”

Grace sidled into the snug with a cursory knock, dropping off more beers and some water on Emily’s request.

“You’re a stickler, Em, you know that?” She flipped John off as she took a sip of her water, washing away the lingering taste of the shitty ales they were drinking. “What’re you washing down for, eh? It’s barely a drink.”

That didn’t mean she didn’t notice the way Grace blushed when Tommy nodded at her in thanks, or the way she got a little too close to him when leaning over the table. Poor girl, she knew the pain of falling for Thomas Shelby.

“Yeah, and tomorrow when you wake up with Satan’s own band playing a bleeding Souza march in your head, you’ll wish you listened to me.”

Arthur leaned forward when the door closed behind her, the shrill voices of the singing masses being muted once again.

“You know she’s sweet on you, Tom.” He teased, signature older brother grin on his face.

Tommy returned only his flattest expression.

“It don’t got to be her, but you know it might be time, Tommy.” John added on.

“Time for what?” His voice was still emotionless, not giving in to the shit his brothers were slinging.

Emily purposefully did not say anything, did not read into it. The two of them did not discuss romance, ever. It was one rule that she had implemented when they were eighteen after she’d humiliated herself. So, she took the opportunity to shuffle the cards and stay out of it.

“Time you took yourself a woman.”

“Just play the bloody hand!” Tommy shot back which only made his brothers laugh.

“Nah, you stay the way you are, Tommy!” Arthur chuckled. “Remember what dad used to say: fast women and slow horses…”

“Will ruin your life.” Even Emily couldn’t help snorting at their duo act.

She opened her own mouth, to change the subject or announce the deal when the cars pulling up distracted her. Too many, too fast, not people they knew. Fuck it was happening.

“Coppers.” Arthur breathed, but she shook her head and Tommy said ‘no’.

After the second call and the gunshot, Tommy lifted himself out of his chair, buttoning his jacket. He made eye contact with her, she nodded to his silent question, sliding in behind so she would exit last and least noticeably. And making sure to carry the empty glasses.

When Tommy told everyone to go home, she made her way to Grace’s side and grabbed her by the arm.

“That means you, Grace.” The woman looked ready to protest so Emily gave her the hardest stare she could. “Go. Now.”

Girl wasn’t brave enough to argue with Emily and so took off her apron and followed the ends of the crowd out. Emily slipped behind the bar and donned the apron as fast as she could. If this was going to work, she had to be the woman that caught Kimber’s eye – not some girl that she still couldn’t trust.

“Go to the back, Harry. It might get dangerous.” She whispered to the man, pouring a set of whiskeys. “I can do this.”

Harry was smart and didn’t even attempt to argue, just slipped back where the stock was kept. Sometimes she wondered if he wasn’t the smartest fucker in the city. She finished pouring the drinks and brought them over on a tray, purposefully unresponsive. With the crowd that had been here before, and the fact that Kimber seemed to not have an eye for bloody detail, it would look like she was just the barmaid.

She could practically feel his eyes tracing up her body as she leaned over the table.

“Who’s this now?” His smile, she was sure, was meant to be enticing.

“Emily.” She said simply. A man who was used to getting what he wanted. Maybe a little bit of effort would entice him. “Anything else I can get you, gents?”

“I can think of a few things.” Kimber said heavily, still staring, though she noticed his hand was about to reach out for her. And she wasn’t the only one since she saw John’s eye twitch and Tommy’s ‘go home’ was said with more force than was necessary.

Playing at taking her apron off and heading out the back way, Emily heard Kimber’s comment about her: “Don’t think I’d have ever left this shithole if I knew you could find a woman like that.”

Well, it looked like she’d definitely gotten his attention. She could only hope this meeting went well and her skills wouldn’t be needed to patch anyone up.

“Gift for a Dr. Emily Hughes.”

“From who?” John shot back, eyes narrowing.

“A Mr. Patrick O’Hare, OBE.” The young man returned, giving the packages a pointed look.

There was a lot, John thought, even as he leaned back to shout Emily’s name. This was the stuff that posh cunt had said he’d said – the dress, the shoes, the jewellery. He felt his face scowling before he even noticed, the thought of that man turning his stomach.

“Oh.” The woman in question slid under his arm, squinting at the packages with disdain. “Patrick’s things. Give it here.”

John reached to take the packages instead, marvelling at the weight for some fucking clothes. She smiled thankfully at him.

“Mr. O’Hare would also like to say that he will be by this afternoon around half 6. And also that he is looking forward to hearing your opinion on the clothes.” And with that the young man tipped his hat and left.

“He looks forward to hearing my opinion, does he?” She mocked with a roll of her eyes. “Fucking prick. Come on, let’s take a look at whatever nonsense I’m going to be wearing.”

Breakfast had just been cleared off the table when John put the packages down, Arthur leaning over his shoulder, cigarette dangling from his lips.

“What’s all this now?”

“That London prick.” John muttered, watching Tommy’s eyebrows raise.

Emily didn’t hesitate to open the largest box, tissue paper moved aside automatically. The woman hummed, touching the fabric, and followed by closing the box immediately.

“Red. Shocking.” Incredulity dripped from her tone, and Arthur laughed. “At least it’s soft. He always did like to dress me up in red.”

John raised his eyebrows, “How often did you hang around him?”

Pausing in her movements, she took a moment to think. Her eyes unfocused as she reached into her own memories.

“A dozen times or so?” There wasn’t a lot of confidence in that number. Still it made John scowl. “He didn’t start dressing me like a fucking doll until about the fifth one.”

“Why’d you let him?”

She blinked at Arthur’s question, hand stilling for only a fraction of a second before she shrugged. “I started making some interesting connections; it wasn’t worth ending over something petty. I can put up with a lot if I need to.”

That thought came back to John again, the one from the car, the one that made his stomach twist. She’s too used to being treated like shit.

The smallest box was the next one she opened, unable to keep from laughing at how she lifted the necklace out of the box, keeping it far enough away from herself that it seemed more a threat than a piece of jewellery.

“It isn’t going to bite, Emmy.”

“That’s a lot of gems for a tight necklace.” She muttered. “It’s going to pinch me.”

Even Arthur and Tommy were nearly laughing now. God, Emily really was the most sour person when it came to these things, so very particular. He knew that she did like jewellery, but only specific things – never bracelets and never anything too tight. Maybe he knew too fucking much about her preferences – he wasn’t even sure he knew that about Ada.

“It probably costs more than a bloody car.” Arthur muttered squinting at it.

Emily tossed it to him, the oldest quick to catch it.

“I’m sure it’ll look lovely on you, Arty. Really’ll bring out your eyes.” There was a lot of laughter at that. Tommy making a comment about pretty girls that had Arthur turning all shades of embarrassed red. Picking on their big brother could be so fucking easy sometimes.

“It’s really pretty though, Em.” Ada commented, sliding into the room and taking the necklace from her brother’s offended hands. She’d spent the night here last night, Freddie having a late meeting and she had decided stayed up with Emily, chatting instead of being home alone.

“Tell you what: after the ball tonight, it’s yours.” Emily said things like that so simply. If Ada liked it she could have it, no mind the value. Sometimes he wondered why Emily worked so hard to improve their business when she could not care less about money besides having enough to survive.

Then he remembered: it was because she loved them.

The youngest present Shelby just smiled, pleased, and continued to admire the necklace that definitely looked heavy from John’s perspective.

“I suppose I should put this all upstairs.” She muttered, the mood sobering. “I’ll start getting ready later. It’ll just be you boys going with Patrick’s man for the inspection, yeah?”

Tommy nodded, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“I don’t like you going with him alone.”

And John had to agree. He’d watched in that first meeting as she’d threatened to expose him, his deepest secret, and destroy his life. And somehow they were supposed to trust that the wouldn’t pull anything when he was alone with her? When none of them were there to protect her?

“I’m not daft, Tommy. I’ve already given some evidence to my reporter friend – and I’ll be sure to let Patrick know that if anything happens to me or if he betrays you, those’ll find their way to every paper from here to bloody India.” She snorted. “Anyway, I’ll also have a gun in my bag if the threat isn’t enough.”

Tommy’s face stayed stern, he wasn’t convinced. Neither was John, though he had to admit he felt at least a little better than he had a few moments ago knowing she had thought about this.

Ada helped Emily take the boxes upstairs, Arthur waiting till they were out of earshot before turning to Tommy.

“She can’t go alone.” His voice was heavy, unwavering. Not angry, but definitely stern. He was in prime older brother form.

Tommy nodded. “Louis’ll linger nearby if she needs him. Not much else to be done.”

Louis would never be able to blend in to a place like that, but he could park the car nearby, be ready to rush in and pull her out if something went awry. Could follow the car and if it was diverted, could chase it down and protect her.

John couldn’t help the discomfort he was feeling. He didn’t like this, but Pol said it was going to be fine.

It wasn’t the dress, the shoes, or the way her hair that was done up that made Tommy’s heart stop for a moment when she came down the stairs. Yes, he appreciated her in finery, he did all he did so that she had the life she deserved, but that wasn’t what made his chest lurch.

It was the way she looked at him, eyes twinkling, and bashfulness in her smile. The warmth in her voice when she asked, “What do you think? Am I pretty enough?”

He took the cigarette from his mouth, worried it would slip from between his lips.

“Beautiful.” And he swallowed. His voice had been too heavy, it sounded too real. It was too real. “All for this posh prick, hm?”

She snorted at that, sliding into the room and taking a seat. “He does have nice taste in clothes, I’ll give him that.” Reaching out, she plucked the cigarette direct from his fingers and took a drag. “Is it bad that I’m already tired?”

To anyone else it would seem like a normal question, a silly joke. But not to him – to him the vulnerability was obvious.

“You don’t have to, love.” He said with a shrug, lighting himself another cigarette. “Could tell him to go fuck himself.”

She smiled at him, warmly, but he did have the sense she was trying to convey that he was an idiot.

“I think the 10 thousand pound would beg to differ.” She leaned her head to rest on the back of the chair. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. “It’s one evening. I’ll stay the night in Luton. It’ll be far too late; I’ll miss the last train by the time I’m free.”

He raised his eyebrows, “With him?”

Her face scrunched up in disgust, “Absolutely fucking not.” She rolled her head to get him in her vision without having to lift off the chair back, “I booked a room at an inn.”

Gears turning, he just nodded. Their conversation interrupted by a few knocks at the door.

“And that’s my cue.” She breathed, taking a stand.

Tommy watched as she rolled her shoulders back, straightening her spine, and banishing every ounce of vulnerability from her face. Emmy became Dr. Hughes in that moment; if it wasn’t so impressive, it would be scary.

“Emily, darling. Lovely as always.” Emily could basically feel John’s glare, the coldness of Tommy radiating from her back. Arthur and Pol were openly scowling from across the room.

“Thomas and Arthur Shelby, Polly Gray, this is Patrick O’Hare.” She greeted, ushering him into the sitting room with his man. “You remember John.”

“Gentlemen. And lady.” He nodded to the man at his side. “Matthew Liden. He’ll be joining you to verify the cargo and is prepared to make payment should it be as promised.”

Patrick caught Tommy’s eye and there was something dangerous in his gaze, a threat. A man who made himself seem loud and flashy, but was able to live up to his lethal reputation should it be necessary. One actor to another, they shared an understanding.

Looking at his companion, this Liden. The man was confident, held himself well. His eyes were unfocused, as though he weren’t paying a lick of attention. Like the poor blokes with shellshock who regressed inside, the ones who didn’t rage, didn’t hear German artillery in the streets, the ones who quietly went about their day-to-day until they hung themselves in the kitchen.

Tommy nodded, “I’m sure this will be a profitable enterprise for you.”

Patrick hummed. “I should hope.” For a second his gaze was hard, the mask dropping just enough that the threat was obvious. “Now. Dr. Hughes, we have quite a bit of ground to cover.”

She nodded, eyes squinting just a touch. Tommy could practically see the gears in her head turning. Quickly, she offered a kiss to each of their cheeks, except Pol who she hugged.

O’Hare tracked the movement carefully, genial mask fully in place, offering only a small, placid smile. But his eyes – they were intense. Tracking, cataloguing.

Smart girl. She wanted him to know that they cared about her, that she played a significant role here. That he would have something to contend with should she not return.

“Try and enjoy yourself, eh?” John whispered, just loud enough for the three of them to hear.

Emily just smiled at him.

---

Tagged: @weaponizedvirtue, @taorislover94 @maaxxxaam

[kykyonthemoon]

Floating Floraletter

and why it will always be my favorite!!!

‼️ This post contains spoilers for Caleb’s 5 star memory. Read at your own discretion.

‼️ These are just a few words from my perspective after reading the card. I'm aware that each person might have different views, and I'd love to hear from yours too. Please do share your thoughts.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

❀ At first, when I read the title of the card “Floating Floraleter”, I was a bit confused. The “floating” part is quite clear because it refers to Caleb’s boat, Evol (which he uses to make the flowers and MC float). And “Floraleter”? It must be a combination of “floral” and “letter” but I don’t see any letter here. Turns out it’s in the card’s content. And it made me cry.

Since his time at the Academy in Skyhaven, Caleb wrote many letters to MC but didn’t send them. They were all very normal thoughts and reminders he had for her. Yet if she had received them during that time, it would mean that she would never be able to see him again.

Because all those letters were goodbyes that he wanted to say to MC, in case something unexpected happened and he couldn’t come back to her anymore.

All those letters reminded me of the Violet Evergarden episodes; when the mother asked Violet to write a letter to her daughter every year on her birthday because she couldn’t live anymore; or the letters without an address, stacked up at the post office… I felt like this part of the card, although only a few short lines, was enough to be my most favorite so far, because of the emotions it conveyed.

It wasn’t anything grand, it wasn’t anything big, or fancy. Just a few simple lines he sent back to the most important person in his life. It was enough, and sincere. That was all my heart needed.

❀ In addition to the letters that never reached MC, Caleb also kept her photos, and photos of both of them together. He kept them in the most important chip on his aircraft. So that when the time comes and he must go, her image will be the last thing he sees before leaving this world. 😌

❀ Loving a soldier, not only MC but also Caleb always have to face the possibility of never seeing each other again. Caleb states that he also wants to come back as much as MC wishes to see him again. Perhaps it is that small wish of both that makes them try every day, despite all the misunderstandings, the arguments, the distances... to finally truly return home - where each other is. They choose not to say goodbyes, but only hellos. So romantic yet painful at the same time. It makes me cherish peace more than ever, and at the same time remember that separation is inevitable in everyone's life. But if even the desolate land can still grow flowers and grass, then death is only temporary (as the church has taught me that).

❀ There are also some minor details that I probably won’t be able to name them all out here. I love the way MC trusts Caleb unconditionally. He tells her to jump, she does it without hesitation. Because she knows he will always catch her no matter what. I love the way they interact, tease, joke and caress each other. I also love the way MC appreciates him more, understands him and is more proactive with him. If in the previous cards (especially the normal ones) the way MC behaves didn't move me much, then in this card, she shows me the role of being Caleb’s trusted support. Although not much, it is a spark that I hope to see more of in the future.

Let me sum it up by what MC feels: 

I know that no matter what happens, I’m just like him. We always yearn for our home and long to return to each other’s side.

[animalsalvationassociation]

How about some domestic fae and y/n fluff as kids?🥺🥺

Wifey says ya'll are spoiled~ X3 ( @calamaroo )

[ DO NOT REPOST, ALL ART & CONCEPTS WERE MADE BY ME ]

Trouble Trio Shenanigans

(Oh you didn't know?~ These three all knew each other as kids~💕)

1. Not sure what the joke was, but clearly it didn’t land. (Pfft—Lookit her toe beansssss!!!! XD)

2. Nan is a snow mermaid~ ❄🧜🏻‍♀️

Itty Bitty Fae

3. Poor Patches gon be nommed (And an attempt at making Fae look like a roasted bean)

4. Knife Baby (aka Rage Bean) 🔪

5. Mourning . . . 🥺💔

(Lore?~)

6. Nap Time 😴

(Fae makes nests out of blankets and pillows as a comfort mechanism. She also likes to give Y/N her blankies whenever they sleep because she knows they have lots of nightmares. She still does it to this day, I think Y.N. is finally starting to catch on~)

7. Berry Thieves — aka "The Berry Incident" 🍓

(They're black berries yummy~ — These two as little ones were the type to do something wrong/unhelpful usually by accident. They were too innocent to realize it was wrong unless someone told them directly. Don't worry everyone laughs about it now because it was actually really cute.)

Livestock Headcanon:

The Palace Clan (where Fae & Y.N. grew up) had a sort of symbiosis with several species of "livestock" (aka "wilds"). Those being, Reindeer/Goats/Sheep/Cows/Chickens/Horses (may add others lol).

Not all of these creatures traveled with them constantly but there were certain herds that had a sort of "alliance/friendship" with them, even some that weren't really considered "livestock". The nomads would protect these herds/groups and they would receive resources/aide/friendship in return.

(Fun Fact: Around the time that Y.N. joined the clan, the government of Scotland gifted them rights to their own land, allowing them to travel wherever they needed in order to thrive. Since then the clan has become a huge part of the community and even received their own crest as a symbol of appreciation for their services.)

[ Wilds - Creatures who are “less evolved” than the modern image, or have chosen to live outside of the bounds of modern societies. ]

I'm sure I've mentioned before but I used to work as a historical reenactor as well as a stable hand at a Livery. (Best years of my life really)

I worked with all kinds of animals: Ponies/Goats/Sheep/Rabbits/Chickens, a Donkey (we love Heber omg, #mrgrumpypants), and two cows (Jasmine and her son Charming)

So I think I'm allowed to say that I love the concept of their clan working with, protecting, and caring for livestock, even going so far as to treat them like family. Which was very fitting seeing as their clan was interracial, with several different cultures/species hodge-podged into one group.

Thank you for the ask Anon! 💖

[ This is a Octonauts AU, in no way is this canon to the OG storyline. ]

[indigosunsetao3]

Chapter 8

Repairing old wounds and making new ones.

AO3 (Full list of tags/warnings. Please check them.) Masterlist 7.8k Words

Chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

When Celeste’s phone dinged with a notification, she dug it out of her purse and glanced at it. A new message from Johnny was waiting for her, and she shifted the shopping trolley she was pushing to unlock the screen to see what he had to say. After everything that had happened with her den, John had been insistent that she have their numbers should anything else crop up. But also allow them to keep in contact and let her know when they would be working in her house.

Celeste had resisted their continued help. Tried to fend them off saying she would just call someone to do come out and do the work. She didn’t want to feel like she owed them more than she already did and felt it was crossing the line to have your neighbors do work for you. What if it went poorly? Maybe they charged her more than she could manage or did something she didn’t like and there was a falling out. She was already warring with Mrs. Nettles about trash bins, which she had put solar spotlights on just to poke the angry bear, she didn’t want a fight with these men. She had a feeling they would be much better at making her life miserable than a nosey old lady. And Celeste sure as hell would not be leaving this house, it was the last piece of her husband she really had.

John is out for the day so I’m going to work on the floors. They’re the one thing he trusts me to do without him hovering.  I won’t be disrupting anything will I?  No, all good. I’ll be there in a bit. Stopped in town for a few things.  Do I need to pick up anything for the house?  Simon’s at the hardware store getting what we need.

Stuffing her phone back in her purse Celeste went back to shopping, taking her time to wander down the aisles. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go home, but it was still a bit awkward around the men in her house. Feeling as if she were just lurking in their presence as they came in and out, hauling moldy carpet, climbing on the roof, yelling at one another when things weren’t going as planned, and laughing behind a closed door as they ribbed one another when they were. She had tried to stay out of the way, reading on the couch or wandering outside but that felt odd too, just watching them work on her place without helping. But every time she asked if there was anything she could do, they would tell her no, to relax or take care of anything else she needed.

After wandering the grocery aisles for a third time, Celeste gave up wasting time and finished shopping. She had a few frozen things to get home with, and the days were getting warmer, so they wouldn’t keep as long in the car. The ride home took a little longer than usual, not drastically, but enough for her to take notice that the early tourists were starting to arrive. It wouldn’t be long before the spring festival to kick off the season was there, which meant more chaos at work.

“Hey you,” Celeste said with a grin as she shouldered open the front door to find Samson sitting on the small table that housed her bowl of keys and the rest of her junk that didn’t have a home.

Diligently, Celeste set her keyring in the bowl so as not to misplace them, her eyes lingering on the shiny new key in her favorite shade of blue. How Simon had figured out blue was her favorite color, she wasn’t sure, but when she came home one day to both doors rekeyed, he silently handed her the master key to put somewhere safe and her key. He also let her know that the guys would be keeping a spare at their place if she was comfortable with it. Just so they could get in and out while working on the place, and for emergencies. Celeste agreed, if only for convenience, and the fact he had thrown away the fake rock where she kept the spare key. He didn’t even look mildly ashamed to admit it either as she huffed at him.

“I’m surprised you aren’t outside, it’s a pretty day,” Celeste continued talking to Samson as she scratched his ears and kicked the door shut, which also no longer stuck on the uneven tile. Simon must have adjusted it when he set about redoing the locks.

“He was,” Johnny called from the top of the stairs, his voice a little breathless from stacking support beams. “Until he decided chasing my bootlaces while I hauled in wood was more interesting.”

“He’ll do that,” Celeste said with a small laugh as she lugged her overstuffed bags of groceries into the kitchen.

Ever since the embarrassment of not having cat food, Celeste had been vigilant in actually going to the store. It had only been a few weeks, but she wasn’t about to have another incident of having to ask the guys for anything else. Having them around had forced her to assess her current situation besides the giant hole in her den ceiling. To actually take a good look at how she was living, and not just in a figurative sense. Her place was a stale tomb. Alice had said it a few times, but Celeste ignored it until strangers came into her house and she really saw what it looked like. It was as if she were a ghost living in her own place. It didn’t look lived in, with dust collecting on everything, nothing on the walls, and barren shelves.

Being forced to reckon with the den meant ripping off the band aid of all the things she had tried to pack away. Which would force her to speedily decorate and clean. Between the men working on the structural damage, she had spent her evenings actively going through all the boxes she had been ignoring. Shifting things out of the room so it wasn’t in the way and taking items to the rooms she wanted them in.

The work had started out exhausting, mentally and physically, having to keep working hours after her actual job and dealing with the emotional whiplash. But it had lit a bit of fire in her once she started seeing all the memories she had packed away months ago. Each night, she felt it become a little less draining. Even when her framed handwritten wedding vows had sent her into a sobbing fit that ended with John quietly handing her a cup of tea and scaring the shit out of her because she didn’t realize he was there.

“Simon is going to bring a receipt for these things he’s picking up, right?” Celeste asked from the doorway a few minutes later as she looked into the den where Johnny was.

“I told him to,” Johnny answered as he looked up from where he was lying on his stomach with his hands in the hole in the floor. “Doesn’t always listen to me though.”

The roof had been a repair that was out of everyone’s hands. The cottage didn’t have standard shingles, they were wood and required specialty ordering and installation. Celeste’s insurance luckily covered a good portion of it, but there was still a huge amount she had to pay out of pocket, which hurt her wallet. She had a bit of savings built up from her husband’s life insurance and other assets, but with her current job and being on a single income, putting money back into that savings was a bit harder when she had to withdraw from it.

And while Celeste couldn’t prove it, the guys were being a bit dodgy when it came to the rest of the purchases for repairs. She didn’t want to feel like she owed anyone favors, let alone money, so when the guys showed up with materials, she was always ready to shove money into their hands. But there was always an excuse. They lost the receipt, this was just left over from their own house so it didn’t cost them anything, or her favorite from Kyle ‘found it on the side of the road.’ The one time she managed to get Johnny to take the bills, they had mysteriously appeared back in her wallet two days later.

“None of you listen,” Celeste sighed as she walked over to a box she had started on the night before, smiling just a bit to herself at the vase of flowers in one of the windows.

“We listen,” Johnny answered as he grunted, tugging at something, “but that doesn’t mean we are going to do it.”

“How bad is the floor?” Celeste dared to ask as she flopped down and crossed her legs to get to work on her own project. This box at least looked like mostly her junk, so there were no risks of jump scares of emotions.

“It’s,” Johnny hesitated, “not great.” He grinned a bit as he looked over at Celeste, who rolled her head back to look up at the ceiling with a loud sigh. “But we can fix it. Just going to shore up the structure before we lay down the rest of the subfloor.”

“Would I have gone through it if I stood on it?”

“Maybe not you, but John for sure,” Johnny stated before waving a hand to gesture for her to come over. “Want me to show you?”

“I’m not sure I want to see, but why not,” Celeste answered before shifting to her hands and knees to shuffle over so she was knelt next to him.

The area Johnny was working on looked bleak and, if she were honest, a bit scary.

She knew it was going to be bad when they had ripped the carpeting out of the whole room, deeming it unsalvageable, even where it hadn’t been wet. Every section they pulled they kept finding more and more mold until they got to the walls. The subfloor was okay the further away it was from the direct damage, the carpet and padding took most of the brunt of the spores that had spread. The area that had been dripped on for weeks they had ripped up the plywood which crumbled in their hands. The insulation underneath was soaked and unusable, and there were burn marks in some of it because of the old wiring.

Now that the supports were fully visible, Celeste could see years of different damage. Spots had been eaten by termites, evidence of mice, and plain rotted out spots. John thought that they could seal the sheetrock that doubled as her kitchen ceiling to kill any other mold that hadn’t sprouted, but he was insistent Celeste keep an eye on the ceiling downstairs. They had rewired any exposed wiring, leaving Celeste in the dark literally overnight a few days ago. Kyle had tried to convince her to stay at their house with the power being cut, but Celeste had insisted on staying home. Even if that meant moving around the house with a flashlight and banging her shins more than once.

“The supports are still in working order in most spots,” Johnny explained as he pointed the beam of his torch for Celeste’s eyes to follow. “But we have a few we need to add some reinforcement,” he pointed to a piece that had cracked in the middle. “I’ll run boards from the good spots to take the load off the bad ones.” He continued before turning his head to look up at Celeste who was leaned over, hands on her knees to peer inside.

“What’s to say the rest of the house doesn’t have these issues?” Celeste asked as she eyed a suspicious looking stain on one of the beams.

“Unless you have other leaks,” Johnny answered as he groped to his side to grab a precut piece of wood, “you should be fine. May have to renovate them at some point just for the age,” he continued as he maneuvered the wood into place. “But it’s a good thing we’ll be here to help,” he winked.

“Well, I don’t ever plan on leaving, so I guess I’ll keep it in the back of my mind,” Celeste answered as she watched Johnny hold the wood in one broad hand before grabbing the nail gun.

“Are you busy with anything?” Johnny asked as he pulled the wire to give himself more slack.

“Ah,” Celeste glanced back at her box of junk before back to Johnny, “not really. Is there something I can help with?”

“Nail this board in for me. Be easier for me to just hold it in place,” Johnny said. When he saw Celeste’s eyes get big and she was about to back out he tacked on, “you just need to press the gun to the board and pull the trigger. Doesn’t matter where, as long as it’s not my hand…or yours.”

“I’ve never,” Celeste started as he held the contraption out to her. It was heavy and she had to grip it with both hands as she looked at it before back to him.

“Right there,” Johnny pointed with one of his fingers as he supported the board. “Just press the gun down as hard as you can and pull the trigger.”

She was still completely unsure, but Celeste nodded once before leaning over to press the nail gun to the board. If she could help in any way to put her place back together, she was going to. It would help ease the guilt and the feeling that she was taking advantage of them. The angle was awkward, and she pressed her hand on the back of the gun to hold it in place before darting her eyes up to Johnny, who was watching her face.

“Good?” She asked, and when he nodded, she gave him a disbelieving look before pulling the trigger.

The blowback of the air pushed the hair out of her face, and the loud pop made her shriek in surprise, to which Johnny laughed. That was why he was looking at her, to see her freak out, because he knew it would happen. She scowled and pulled the gun back, only to find the nail hadn’t gone in all the way, it was still sticking out halfway.

“Damn,” Celeste muttered as she looked at it. She tried to pry it out with her hands, but it was just far enough that she couldn’t. She gave up trying before Johnny plucked it out of the wood without barely straining and tossed it over his shoulder.  

“Not a problem. You just weren’t holding it tight enough against the board,” he explained as he gestured for her to try again. “The compression of the air pushed the gun off the wood. Go again now that you know what to expect,” he nodded his head for her to try again.

This time, as Celeste lined the gun up and pressed against the back of the gun, he put one of his hands over hers and pressed down as well. His grip was strong and warm, completely engulfing her hand with his as he held the gun steady and in place. When Celeste pulled the trigger this time, the blowback was just as strong, but it didn’t kick back as hard because she felt Johnny press down even harder to hold the gun in place.

“There you go,” Johnny said approvingly as they lifted the gun away. The nail was in the wood, sunken in a bit from the pressure. “Few more to go,” he stated.

Celeste adjusted to get on her stomach like him, and together, they worked on nailing the boards. Her hands were sore and ached by the time they finished. She had still messed up a few when she attempted to do it herself, but it was satisfying when they finished and looked down at the fresh wood that replaced or reinforced all the old pieces.

“Food’s ready,” came a voice that made Celeste jump, but Johnny merely grinned.

“For someone so large, you are so quiet!” Celeste admonished as she looked up at Simon from her stomach as he loomed in the doorway.

“You get used to it,” Johnny answered as he pushed himself up in a push up position before getting on his knees and standing, offering his hand to Celeste to help her up. “John will want to inspect before we lay down the plywood,” he explained as Simon walked over to look at their work. “So, we can call it a night.”

“Enjoy dinner,” Celeste replied with a grin as Johnny took a step closer to Simon, he always seemed to gravitate toward him no matter the situation.

“I didn’t get food just for him,” Simon replied as he raised an eyebrow, “I know I’m rude, but I’m not that rude.”

“Oh, I,” Celeste felt herself growing hot. “You didn’t have to,” she started, “I actually bought myself groceries today for once.”

“Good, you can feed yourself tomorrow. Now before it gets cold or Samson gets into it, let’s eat. I set the table.” He stepped aside to let Johnny and Celeste out of the room, shutting the door behind him to prevent the curious orange cat from exploring.

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

Cleared.

The one word Kyle had been itching to hear for weeks. He hated being put on the sidelines, waiting around while the rest of them worked. It felt like a deadweight to the team, and while he knew none of them felt that way, it still bothered him. And being cleared meant he could get back out in the field and not be stuck at home all the time with his thoughts. At least when they were working, Kyle knew exactly where he stood in everyone’s eyes. There was no question as to what he brought to the table and that John valued him. At home, it was a whole different story.

John had gone with Kyle for his official appointment to get back to active work. All the other appointments had been check ins and physical therapy closer to home, but this was all the way in London. It was a long drive, almost six hours, from their place so he had booked a hotel to stay overnight. When Simon gave him an eyebrow raise when he told him he was going, he had used the excuse he needed to meet with a few contacts on the Russian issue. Simon let it drop, but John knew that he could see right through him.

“Picked up some food from the bar,” John stated as he walked into the hotel room to find Kyle already lounged on his queen-sized bed on the far side of the room. “Figured you had a tiring day.”

“Going to need another week to recover,” Kyle joked as he extended and flexed his arm.

He was sore, they had put him through some rough paces. Running, lifting, prolonged extension and raises. They had poked and prodded him, and while he bit his cheek to not let it show, some of the spots were still sensitive to touch. But after a few hours, bloodwork, x-rays and the requested re-test on shooting, at John’s discretion, they said he was fit for duty. Kyle knew if he was going keep up with the rest of the team he was going to have to work quickly to get back into the shape they were.

“You take all the time you need, we’re doing alright,” John answered as he sat down hard on his bed, which squeaked loudly. While running a three man team was less than ideal, just the thought of Kyle being out in the field again made him anxious. He blamed it on what he had to do to keep him alive, ignoring the other glaring reason.

“No, I’m good,” Kyle answered quickly as he sat up and reached his hand out for the take away box. “I’m climbing the walls at home while you’re gone.”

John glanced up at Kyle at that while handing him his food; burger cooked just like he liked, extra mayo, no pickles, and vinegar for his chips. He knew what he meant, knew that he would also climb the walls if he was stuck at home when his men were at work. Though, that small spark he worked on stuffing down lit up at the implication that Kyle missed him while he was gone. That he wanted John around, was worried about him when he was away and couldn’t wait for him to be home or be around him. But then he went and squashed it away, hurting his own feelings with the next question.  

“Celeste not keeping you busy?” John asked with a small, forced grin and eyebrow raise. “The flowers were a nice touch.”

“Her den is dismal, she needed something,” Kyle reasoned as he dipped a chip in the small plastic container that held his vinegar. “And her garden is overgrown, killed two birds with one stone.” If John was going to be obtuse then fine. He would let him.

“I think you made Johnny jealous you did it first,” John joked as he toed off his shoes and shifted to lean back on the headboard of his bed to eat. This was easier, talking about Kyle and Celeste, push him toward that pursuit even if it hurt in more ways than one.  

“Johnny can get Simon flowers if he needs the attention,” Kyle answered as he mirrored John and leaned back against his own headboard. “He’s got his own tricks up his sleeve anyway. Simon, too, in his own quiet way.”

“Poor girl has no idea what she’s gotten herself into,” John answered with a small chuckle.

He knew his men better than anyone else. He could see how they sat up a little straighter, looked just a bit more interested, and always brought the conversation back around to her. They all said it was out of concern, being friendly, but there was more to it. More to the way Simon silently hovered when she insisted on moving the heavy boxes herself. How Johnny stooped a bit to get down to her level to be able to look her in the eye better. When Kyle would grin just a fraction wider, the one dimple in his cheek popping, as she talked to him.

“Don’t act like you also aren’t interested,” Kyle prodded as he flipped the channel to the football game. “I see how you get flustered,” he joked, pretending he didn’t ache that John didn’t act that way around him. “Not used to someone telling you no, are you?”

“I’m not used to someone being so determined to do everything the hard way,” John countered. “I can deal with stubborn and bullheaded,” he looked pointedly at Kyle, “but she just flat out won’t listen.”

John had told Celeste over and over that he and the guys would take care of the issue in her den. He’d make the arrangements for contractors if they needed it, he knew plenty, and they’d fix what they could themselves. Money they could figure out later, that she needn’t worry about that at the moment. John knew she was on a fixed income compared to the four of them who made money for every contract they took. Not to mention their pensions. But she wouldn’t have it. Just the other day she had called a plumber to fix her leaking sinks and John had to run the guy off when he arrived, slipping him a twenty pound note for his troubles.  

“You aren’t her Captain. She doesn’t have to listen,” Kyle reasoned, pausing for mid bite to watch the goalie save the ball. “Damn,” he muttered as he took a bite of his burger.

John let the conversation drop as they both focused on the game, picking up on the fact Kyle wasn’t interested in talking about Celeste any longer. The tension between them was thick these days, but one thing that was still easy for them was football. It had been the thing that bonded them in the beginning, Simon and Johnny not nearly as big of fans, and made things feel normal. Even out in the field, when tensions were high for other reasons, they could fall into sports talk.

When the game wrapped, Chelsea having their arse absolutely handed to them, Kyle cleaned up dinner while John showered. It almost felt that John didn’t want to be alone with Kyle, not without distraction, and he all but bolted from the bed. The easiest solution would have been to book two rooms, but John insisted on just sharing one. For a brief second, Kyle felt his stomach squirm with anticipation when John stood fast on that point, leveling him with a look when he tried to argue. It wasn’t unusual, the four of them would pile into a closet to sleep if needed, but John had an option this time, and he still picked to be with Kyle.  

 “Liverpool and Burnley play here in a moment,” Kyle said vaguely when John walked out of the bathroom.

“Not much of a game,” John noted as he toweled off his hair, throwing the linen onto one of the stiff backed chairs. “But may as well.”

Settling under the sheets, hiding the grimace on his face from the burn in his shoulder as he pulled off his shirt, Kyle turned his attention to the game. Ignoring the desire to just look at John as he lounged on top of the sheets in nothing but a pair of shorts, hand tucked behind his head as he stared at the screen. Kyle didn’t know if he did it on purpose or not, but it was getting harder and harder to just not scream his frustration. To ask John if he knew what he was doing. If he enjoyed torturing Kyle like this. Booking a single room, walking around barely clothed, making him jealous with the mention of Celeste even if Kyle also had an attraction to her. Being figuratively and literally, just out of reach no matter how close Kyle was to him.

“Fuck, that’s a red card. Don’t know why he’s waiting,” John muttered after a bit as he watched a player get in the ref's face. He looked over to Kyle to see if he agreed, but he had nodded off. Still half sitting up with his head drooped to the side, breathing softly.

Quietly, John grabbed the remote and turned the volume down a few notches before setting it back on the nightstand. His eyes roved over Kyle, taking in the way his eyes fluttered from a dream and the slow way his chest rose and fell. He always looked so much softer, younger, when he slept. The stress of life smoothed away to reveal the gentle person underneath. The one that wasn’t hardened, wasn’t angry or on edge. The person Kyle may have been if John hadn’t intervened that day in Picadilly and recruited him to his task force.  He could have served his time, retired with honor, and been a civilian with an easier life, a life with someone like Celeste. Grow old, and be safe from all of this.

But John had been selfish.

He had seen Kyle’s potential and sucked him in, and was leading him right down the same path he took. Of his three men, Kyle was the one that could survive without the job, could have made something else of his life. Johnny and Simon lived and breathed for the military; they needed it like they needed air, just like him. But Kyle was better than them, he could do so much more. But he still chose to stay around, to follow all of them into the next fight. Always ready to charge head first despite the risks. And never one to back down even when certain death was waiting on them, which is what almost made John lose him last time. Why the right side of his chest was peppered with fresh scars and a mangled bullet hole in his shoulder.

John finished the game, glancing at Kyle as he barely woke from his sleep to shift further under the sheets and roll over. It wasn’t too late, but they had been up early to make it for Kyle’s appointment, so when John glanced at the clock reflecting almost ten, he opted to just cut off the television and go to sleep himself. If they wanted to get back tomorrow at a decent time, they’d need to be on the road just after dawn. John was hoping to get the floor in solid at Celeste’s so they could start working on the ceiling.

Kyle rolled over in his sleep, wincing a bit at the noise as it pulled him from his doze. The hotel beds were horrible, they squeaked and groaned, and it seemed to linger, echoing, once he stopped moving. Shifting a bit, thinking that perhaps he had rolled onto a spring that was coiled under him making all the racket, Kyle waited for it to cease. In his half-asleep daze, he reached out with a fisted hand to hit the bed to make it stop, as it just continued on. He was about to sit up and grab his phone to see if he could find the source of the noise when he heard the gasp. That roused him fully, shaking the sleep from his brain as he listened to his surroundings as he gained his bearings. It wasn’t his bed, and it wasn’t his gasp. It was John.

Throwing back the blankets, Kyle sat up and reached for the bedside lamp, squinting at the dim light from the nearly burnt out bulb as it came on. John was on his back, his face contorted as he thrashed in his sleep, arms tangled in the sheets as he fought some invisible enemy. There was sweat on his face, and the way his chest heaved, Kyle knew he had been at this for a while, but it hadn’t woken him up.

Nightmares weren’t new for any of them. There had been times Kyle had been jolted awake from Simon yelling in his sleep or Johnny groaning in pain. He had woken himself up plenty of times and had been shaken awake by John as he fell from the helicopter for the hundredth time. But John somehow always managed to keep his nightmares quiet, away from them. It was rare that he needed someone to pull him from them, and it was always Simon who would step in. Waking someone up from a flashback nightmare was a risk in its own, the brain not always able to differentiate reality from sleep. But Kyle wasn’t going to let John suffer, he was clearly panicked and perhaps even crying with the way he was gasping for air.

“John,” Kyle said, his voice still thick from sleep. “John, wake up,” he tried as he rose up from his bed and crossed the small gap between them. “Hey,” he reached out and tried to grab at his arm, but it flailed under the comforter and out of his reach. Moving to grab his shoulder, Kyle could feel the heat come off of him and the slick sweat that coated his bare skin. “John, wake up,” Kyle said firmly as he shook him a bit harder. It wasn’t working.

Wherever John was, he was deep and lost in it.

He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Everything was happening too fast for him to be able to do anything. There was blood all around, on the streets, on his pants, his shirt, his hands. And the screaming. The screams were circling him but also right at his feet. Simon was yelling at him to do something, but John couldn’t move, couldn’t get past the weight that was pinning his feet to the sidewalk as he watched. Watched Kyle shiver with pain on the ground as blood oozed seemingly from everywhere, leaking onto the concrete to mix with other’s blood and flesh.

The painful gasps that Kyle took to try and breathe as he fruitlessly ripped at his kit to try and get it off felt like a thousand knives to John’s ears. He needed to help him, to do something, but he was going too slow. He couldn’t get his limbs to work right, and as he fumbled with the Velcro on Kyle’s vest, the man screamed out and tried to pull away from the pain. The panic in his eyes was evident. He knew this wasn’t a wound you walked away from; it was one that he may not live past five minutes from. And his terrified eyes locked on John’s as he grabbed for him, his fingers grasping at his arms sliding in the thick blood that coated them.  

“Kyle,” John groaned out.

“I’m here, John,” Kyle tried, thinking he was finally getting him awake. “Just a nightmare, come on,” he tried as he ripped at the sheets to get them away from his neck to free him a bit from the restraint.

He needed to get the bullet out. He was bleeding too badly, and they couldn’t pack it with the bullet lodged in there. Simon was fighting against Kyle as he thrashed in his hysteria of pain to try and make it stop, shaking fingers trying to rip at the gaping wound in his shoulder. Johnny was laying down cover fire as John knelt by Kyle’s side, trying to assess the damage.

He looked at the bulletproof vest that had been obliterated by the bomb shrapnel. His skin was twisted along his stomach, peppered with sharp pieces of metal between the holes in his shirt. No. No. No. He couldn’t lose Kyle. Not like this. Kyle was screaming in pain, his voice growing hoarse from the overuse and exhaustion. He needed to do something.

With a grunt, Simon placed a blood-soaked glove on Kyle’s cheek. He shoved his face to the side, the screams reaching a new octave as the wound in Kyle's shoulder was stretched. Simon didn’t hesitate as he knelt on Kyle’s good arm while the other hand held down his shredded right arm. It was now or never to get that bullet out.

“Do it,” Simon yelled as John plunged his fingers into the jagged wound.  

“John!” Kyle snapped as John made a shuddering gasp and then held his breath as if he had just jumped into water. He stopped moving, stopped everything except for his eyes, which were flicking back and forth rapidly behind his eyelids. “Wake up,” Kyle insisted as he bodily lifted his shoulders off the bed a few inches and shoved him back down hard, hoping the sensation of falling would wake him.

It worked.

John inhaled a breath like a drowning man and snapped his eyes open. He didn’t know where he was, but he knew Kyle was there. He could hear him, see him in the light of the room, wherever it was. Then the panic set in. He hadn’t saved him. He failed. Kyle was gone, and this was some fucked up vision of him, an embodiment of his guilt for it. For everything. He could still feel the sticky blood on his arms, but he was too scared to look, afraid if he took his eyes off Kyle, he’d disappear. 

“Hey,” Kyle said softly as he saw the wild look in John’s eyes. He was awake, but he wasn’t back. Not fully. “You’re safe,” he continued, using the words his therapist had drilled in him for when he had nightmares of his own. “You’re safe, in bed. No threats.”

“You’re here,” John said, his voice a husky whisper as he looked at Kyle. “I’m sorry for everything,” he breathed, feeling the tears. “I’m sorry I couldn’t,” he swallowed, though his mouth felt like sandpaper. “It’s my fault.”

“John, I’m okay,” Kyle said, trying to put the pieces together as to what his nightmare had been. “Look, see?” Kyle offered as he gestured to his arm. “All in one piece, a banged up piece, but a piece,” he suggested gently as John continued to look at him wide eyed, his pupils a bit blown.

“I watched you bleed,” John continued, his eyes roving over Kyle. His eyes were adjusting to the light and he could see him a bit better, not just a hazy glow. “All over the street, me,” he looked down at himself, fully expecting to see blood, but only saw the crisp white sheets and his own bare chest. “I felt you go limp in my arms,” he took a sharp breath as if trying to keep himself together and not fully break down.

“But I’m okay,” Kyle reasoned as he watched John struggle. It was so rare to see him vulnerable, it was almost enough for Kyle to fall apart. To see the fear, the dread. Despite being a fully grown man Kyle could only see a small child, one that needed someone else to be the strong person for once. “You got me out, we all got out,” he pulled the sheets back a bit more to reveal John’s chest and stomach to help him cool off, his hair gleaming with sweat. “Try sitting up, let me get you water,” he offered.

“No,” John said instantly, still afraid if Kyle moved, if he stopped looking at him, he’d disappear. “Just, stay, don’t leave.”

“I’m just going to get you water,” Kyle started, but when John reached for his arm, he held still. His hands were shaking, and Kyle scooted a bit closer. “See? I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. You kept me alive, John. It was just a nightmare.”

“It was too real,” John murmured as he held Kyle’s forearm, fingers feeling a few of the jagged scars from the shrapnel.

“But it wasn’t real. I’m here, alive, breathing,” Kyle said as he locked into John’s eyes to keep him from frantically looking around. It wasn’t sinking in. The look in John’s eyes didn’t fade. If anything he looked more worried, as if Kyle were going to evaporate.

Softly, Kyle peeled John’s fingers off his forearm and dared to put them to his chest. To let him feel his heartbeat, his breathing. It was perhaps a bit intimate to be this close, but it was all Kyle could think of to let John truly see he was alive and okay. He felt the hesitation in John’s hand, but when his sweaty palm connected with Kyle’s skin and he felt the steady beat, John seemed to relax a bit, sinking down into the bed.

“It’s my fault you even got hurt if I had just-“ John tried to reason as he flexed his fingers on his chest as if to hold on.

“John,” Kyle said firmly. “It’s part of the job. You can’t save me from everything, just like I can’t save you or Simon or Johnny. We know what we signed up for,” Kyle answered. “I live with the fear every day, every minute.”

“If I had been quicker,” John tried.

“Then we both would have taken that hit from the bomb, and I probably would have been dead,” Kyle answered and felt a twinge of regret at the flinch that crossed John’s face. “But I’m not. And you’re not.”

“I’m sorry,” John said after a beat of silence, “don’t,” he added as Kyle opened his mouth to continue arguing. To try and absolve him from the guilt that was eating him alive. "Just let me be sorry and…stay with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere, my bed is right there,” Kyle reasoned quietly, gesturing toward his bed, as John’s breathing finally started to even out and his eyes looked less haunted. Yet he didn’t remove his hand from his chest, if anything he tightened his grip.

“That’s too far,” John stated in almost a whisper. He knew he’d regret this in the morning, giving in to what he had been fighting for so long. But he needed something. Need to feel Kyle alive, there with him. Watching him die in his sleep every night was its own torture.

“I,” Kyle started before looking at John’s desperate face. “Okay,” he breathed.

This was hardly the way Kyle was hoping this would go, but he needed to put his feelings aside. His Captain, and fellow soldier, needed him. He was going to help him even if it just rubbed salt in his own wound and broke his heart tomorrow. How many times had he just laid with Johnny to be his ground when he was so wrapped in his head that he couldn’t determine what was real and what was a memory. He could do this for John, especially since he was asking for help this time instead of suffering alone.  

John shifted a bit in the bed, doing his best to keep out of his head, when Kyle leaned over and flipped off the light. The dark helped with the awkward feeling, and he told himself that this was no different than when they piled in for a catnap before evac. Except it was just the two of them instead of all four. And Kyle was only in his boxers instead of a full kit as he slipped under the sheets.

“Thank you,” John said after long minutes of lying side by side, barely touching as they stared at the dark ceiling.

“You’d do it for me,” Kyle replied as he fought the urge to fidget with how nervous he was feeling. With Johnny it was easy. He curled up against him and held him tight as he fought through whatever it was he was facing. Then, when Johnny calmed himself enough, they’d talk about it. But John felt like that bomb that had nearly killed him. Any wrong move would set it off and ruin everything.

“I would,” John agreed, “but you have Johnny and Simon.” He ventured, noting that Kyle seemingly avoided going to him these days.

“You have Johnny and Simon, too,” Kyle answered as he turned his head to look at John, even if he couldn’t see him. “And me. If you’d let us.”

“I’m trying,” John breathed out, the darkness making it a bit easier to let his guard down. “It’s different, with me being Captain. I can’t,” he fought for the words but Kyle stopped him.

“Talking has nothing to do with your rank,” Kyle said. “Tell me what you were dreaming about. It gets easier the more you talk.”

“I see it,” John finally said into the dark, pointedly keeping his eyes on the ceiling despite knowing Kyle had turned over to face him, tucking one of his hands under his head to get more comfortable.

“Almost every night. That street, watching us get overrun, you doubling back for the civilians,” he paused. “I see the way you jerk to the side and fall to your knees as the bullet hits home, but you still,” he paused to take a few breaths, seeing everything as he talked. “You still got up to get them out, get them to safety even as you couldn’t even hold up your gun. Arm useless,” he was losing the fight to keep it together. “Then when the bomb,” he gasped, just like he did in his dreams to keep the sob back. “I thought you were gone in that instant. I thought I just watched you die in the flash.”

“But I didn’t,” Kyle reassured as he barely made out John’s profile, his eyes growing accustomed to the dark again. “I was awake that whole time,” he added, never having told John his side of it. “The shot, the explosion, hitting the ground,” he winced at that memory. “I watched you drop everything to run for me, not caring about yourself. How you dragged me behind the barrier, and Simon came over to help. It hurt, I thought I was dying,” he wasn’t going to lie. “But I fought it. Though when you dug that bullet out, I couldn’t fend off passing out,” he smiled, hoping it would translate in his tone. “I thought that was the end until I woke up in hospital. With you in the same spot next to me, in the same clothes you were in on the street. Still dirty and bloodstained. Simon said you hadn’t left.”

“Two days,” John replied. “The nurses were tired of me, tried to get me to change, but I was afraid if I left…I’d come back, and you’d be gone.”

“When I woke up, you left,” Kyle pushed, perhaps using the vulnerability to his advantage to get some sort of answer. “Why?”

“I couldn’t face you,” John answered as he finally turned his head to face Kyle. “Face what I had let happen. Face the disappointment, anger. They didn’t know if you’d recover, if you’d be able to use your arm properly again. It would have been my fault. Digging that bullet out could have done worse damage, mixed with the shrapnel.”

“Digging that bullet out kept me alive, John. I’d rather be alive with you than dead with a bullet,” Kyle answered firmly and finally dared to reach his arm out to wrap around John to pull him closer. He pressed his chest against John’s arm and ran his thumb reassuringly on John’s bicep when he didn’t pull away. “Stop beating yourself up for doing what you needed to do. I’m alive, I’m here, because of you.”

John didn’t answer, the words echoing in his mind as Kyle inched closer to curl against him, shifting enough to rest his head on his shoulder. It felt beyond comforting to feel each sharp angle and soft curve of Kyle pressed to him. To be able to wrap his own arm behind his back to firmly keep him against his side as Kyle adjusted to get more comfortable, sliding his leg over his.

They didn’t say anything more as they lay in the dark, wrapped up in one another. Letting their breathing and subtle shifts of their bodies fill the silence as they eased back into rest. John laid awake for a long while, long after Kyle had dozed, and did his best to memorize the feel of him. To take in what he had been denying himself for so long. And when he was sure Kyle was completely asleep, John pressed his lips to his forehead while he waged a war in his mind on what to do when the sun rose.

[askgrantcurly]

Letter One - Expected Delivery 5/2/2025

Jimmy,

I know you’ve been expecting me to write and visit you while you’re in rehab, and when I dropped you off that is exactly what I intended on doing. I got home that day after sobbing in the lobby and it made me realize a few things. These are also some of the reasons why I didn’t… or couldn’t come.

I don’t think I was ready to see you change when we first got into a relationship.

I knew I wanted you more than anything, I still do, but I didn’t have faith that you could change, and that was wrong of me. I expected this to go exactly the way it always had. I am so sorry, Jim. You were putting in all this work and I treated you like a manipulator. I feel so stupid for letting myself get disillusioned by my own insecurity. You put forth effort and I shunned you for it.

Instead of talking to you I decided to talk for you and then get angry at you for things you never said- things you likely didn’t even mean. We are equally flawed; the only difference is that you’re honest about it, and I’m a coward.

I knew that something was wrong when your demeanor changed before the abortion appointment, and I was too selfish to address it.

I did want to have that baby with you. It kills me to think that you were changing your mind and I ignored every sign. You were trying to communicate the best way you knew how and my selfishness and acceptance made you feel like you couldn’t tell me directly. Sure, there is miscommunication on both sides, but I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about ME and MY mistakes. I put you in a position where you felt like being honest with me wasn’t practical. I’m so sorry, Jim. More than anything, I’m sorry about that.

I still think we made the right decision in the current situation we’re in, but in the future, when you want to- IF you want to, we can try again.

I love you. Completely, entirely, wholeheartedly, I love you.

There is no one else in this world that I would rather be with than you. I know you said in your letter that no one else compares to me, but the same thing can be said about you. No matter who I’m with, whether I’m dating them or just filling in the holes with some… quick emotionless fuck while I wait for you, no one will ever or has ever compared to you. You are the one for me and I refuse to give that up.

I think I put a lot of my self worth on sex, which isn’t your fault but has led me to look for that validation in other people

I slept with someone else… multiple people, actually, and I’m incredibly embarrassed about my actions. I hurt people I love because I needed validation more than I cared about them in the moment. God, I buried myself in other people’s affection because I didn’t have the attention I wanted from you- and I’m the one who wasn’t reaching out. None of it makes sense, even to me.

The first person, a close friend of ours, was for comfort and familiarity and I’m sick to my stomach over it. I thought I was clear about my intentions but I don’t think I cared in the moment if I wasn’t. I hurt her and that is something I have to live with now, even though we’re working through it. Things have changed now.

The rest were… god, for lack of better word, opportunistic. It became an impulse fueled by a desire to be cared for- cared about- and I never stopped to accept that the only person who feels right to me is you.

I don’t have feelings for any of the people I slept with. The sex, at least to me, was just sex and nothing else. In your last letter you brought up an unofficial obligation to each other and I have to agree. I felt like I was cheating on you the entire time and that made things messy.

You have every right to be mad at me. I NEED you to be angry with me because it means you still care about me. It’s weird, and a bit deranged, but it’s the truth.

I knew about Colt; I knew something would happen, and I’m not angry about it.

I’m not mad at you for sleeping with Colt under current circumstance. I understand why you did it, but it breaks my heart that it was such a bad experience for you… you don’t deserve to feel like that. I won’t let anyone touch you like that again. I don’t want anyone else to touch you, and I don’t want to touch anyone else. I just want it to be US.

One last thing…

[[ ILLEGIBLE ]]

Please don’t answer me until I pick you up. Really consider it.

Much love, Grant.

[properlittlefamily]

[ID: reply from @dairxoxo that says, "What are you reading? I haven't read anything since 2021 or so. Do you have any good recs. I need something to try to awake my love." [two smiling emojis] /End ID]

Okay this turned out longer than I thought because of course I had to go through all my bookmarks to answer this properly haha.

Warning (I guess): I am a very anti-Rebecca person. I've gotten used to the idea of Seb over these last years, but still very much prefer not to have him in my fantasy soap realm.

omegaverse au - butteredsc0tch | a/b/o, mpreg

"He’d started to feel nauseous, nothing extreme but just a little queasy in the morning when he’d wake up and again just before he’d go to bed. And if he’d felt tired, well he’d been working hard – add in the strain between him and Chrissie and it’d been no surprise he’d felt more exhausted than normal.

But then one day he’d sat down to rest his eyes for 5 minutes at his desk, and had woken up 2 hours later to Chrissie shaking his shoulder, peering down at him with worried eyes. The fact that he’d then slept for 10 hours that night, and had still needed another nap the following day, didn’t go unnoticed by him either.

So he’d bought a test, and had locked himself away in the en-suite where he'd known he wouldn’t be disturbed."

I know omegaverse/mpreg is not everyone's cup of tea, but this is one of absolute favorites. Like top 3 for me, no contest. I just think it's so well written, both story and character wise. I've read this series so many times, I've lost count. Love, love, love.

you're so much brighter than the sun to me - wafflesofdoom | canon divergent

"after their fight at home farm, aaron and robert sit and talk, and decide a holiday in vegas is exactly what they need to sort themselves out.

or, the one where their holiday of a lifetime to vegas turns out to be unforgettable for more reasons than one."

Everytime I go back and reread this, I'm always just clinching my fists and grinding my teeth because of what could've been. And because it's just adorable.

The Plan - orphan_account | smut, accidental voyeurism

"As soon as Aaron saw that smirk on Rebecca's face, he knew she was doing this on purpose so he comes up with a plan.

That plan includes texting her to walk through the back and watch Robert fuck him and not her."

Aaron being an absolute menace and literally marking his territory is just so fun to me. Also always love me some shameless smut

sweet dreams are made of these - KayCeeCruz (locked to users)

"After a tragic accident, Robert’s left in a coma. While his loved ones fight to keep him alive, Robert sinks into a world of dreams. When he wakes up, he is confused about what life is real and all he wants is to have his husband by his side." I haven't reread this one yet, but I remember absolutely loving it the first time I read it. This one has definitely been bumped up the list.

Triggers - KiyoYoon | past abuse, smut, aftercare

"Aaron and Robert enjoy a day without Liv in the house alone, meaning that they can gladly have sex without the thought of scarring their little sister. Until Aaron feels a heavy weight in his chest and doesn't realise he's stumbled across some triggers."

Another top favorite of mine. I really love all the fics that dive into emotional/mental/physical response Aaron (could of) had in the aftermath of his abuse, but this is one that has always stuck in the back of my mind.

pushing up daisies series - softlyspoken | mpreg

“I’m just ...” Robert looks at Aaron, really looks at him and Aaron looks away from him. “You look different.” He whispers.

Aaron’s eyes flicker slightly. “Your leather jacket is annoying.”

“Eh?”

“I thought we were pointing out random things.” Aaron says, he puffs his chest as he speaks.

Yes, another mpreg fic. This is actually a trope I read quiet often. Anyway another well written series that I just adore and have read so many times.

Reiteration - Otherworldliness | time travel (kind of)

"Robert Sugden falls asleep in August 2017 as a broken man rapidly losing everything he loves. He awakes in August 2014 with more knowledge and hindsight than any man should, but more importantly Hope."

Another fic I haven't reread yet, but I'm always thinking about it. Basically a "god is a robron shipper and is not happy" fic and I remember loving it.

Village Talk series - theprincessed

"A collection of random, often canon-related conversations starring Robert and/or Aaron and featuring assorted villagers in Emmerdale."

Just a fun collection of short stories of Robron interacting with other villagers.

[supernova41st]

Don’t worry Darling ⊹ .

Medic x Nosocomephobia!Reader

Now playing • My Elixir—Sons of Raphael ♪

A/n: Trust me this was a request but I CANNOT find the question for this one. It followed the idea of medic x paranoid reader and I liked the idea so I decided to make it reader with Nosocomephobia (fear of hospitals) I hope I executed them well. <3

Warnings: None

Divider creds ~ @saradika

Meeting

𓄼 Hospitals have always irked you since you were a kid. Something about the ambience, smell, and atmosphere of them made you uncomfortable. You could handle blood and violence, but hospitals? Hell no.

𓄼 Now, when you signed up to be a mercenary you did prepare yourself for some medical stuff to occur, however, nothing could’ve prepared you for whatever Medic was on that made you so terrified. He was like the embodiment of everything you didn’t like about hospitals x10. And after finding out his way of doing his procedures it only made you more nervous..

“Hang on—I have to be alive for the whole thing??”

“Now now (Y/N), no need to worry, as long as you play your part the surgery will be swift!”

“Don’t you have anesthesia to give me or something?”

“Ha! No. I’m afraid that is out of our budget”

“..Okay, um.. will it hurt?”

“Hahaha!! Oh my, you.. you’re quite comical my friend, hah… yes.”

𓄼 You began to dread the day that was coming, you could barely handle dentist appointments! Now some creep you don’t know basically rummage around your guts for a few hours? This was going to be hell, you just knew it.

𓄼 During that fateful day, you decided to press through. You did nearly everything you could do to get over the anxiety of it all. Breathing, Counting to 10, Naming 5 things you see, etc. And as soon as you laid onto that operating table..

Thud!

“Goodness! Are you alright—….”

𓄼 You passed out. Yeah, he didn’t even lay out any medical supplies, the texture of the operating table against your skin was already too much to bear.

Headcanons

𓄼 You’re both victims in this situation (maybe one more than the other). He tries his best to make sure you don’t pass out every time you see him, but if anything his attempts make it worse.

“Why do you have a syringe?? I thought we were just checking up on how the uber device was working!”

“It’s nothing, darling. It’s simply some Midazolam, I went out to purchase it just for you! Now if you’ll just hold still..”

𓄼 You passed out as soon as he the needle graced your skin. I mean.. at least it kinda worked?

𓄼 Even when you get use to his appointments (meaning not passing out as much) he’s still more gentle around you.

𓄼 He’ll warn you about what he’s about to do and will give you a heads up on if there will be anything startling involved. He also makes sure to bring nitrous gas to help you calm down if needed.

𓄼 He feels guilty about it, but he enjoys talking you through giving you shots. Not in an arousing way, but he enjoys the idea of you being comforted by him. And god, he loves it when you hold his hand, he’ll sometimes worry that he’d be too focus on you holding onto him than injecting you.

“It’s alright, (Y/N), deep breaths..”

“sigh Okay..”

“You’re almost there, you’re doing very well, my love.. and done! See? As I said, only a pinch”

𓄼 If the smell of his clinic disturbs you, then he’ll also remember to light a candle at least an hour before your appointments. He’d specifically choose lavender to help soothe your nerves.

𓄼 He’ll also play some classical music in the background, not only does it calm your nerves but it also helps him focus. He’d remember your favorites and play them more often then other..

“You’ve been playing that one a lot lately”

“How could I not? It has a very nice tone, and I’ve grown tiresome of the other ones”

“Aww, you sure you’re not playing it just for me?”

“Hm, who’s to say”

[randomkposts]

K:- hey, thank you for your answer! We enjoyed hearing it! And your patience.  Not every night is a good night to write

I am interested in your exploration of the notebook being able to control actions before death. Like , that's that's genuinely neat angle that I haven't seen used as much as I think it could be (that or I'm reading the wrong fics when in a mood for death note. 

Or at least I dont think I can recall many depictions of it being used by Light for reasons other then boredom. Or Netflix Death Note. 

E:- The only time I recall is the prisoners writing on cells and what they can only be able to physically do as some aren't obviously not able to leave their countries immediately to go to another one. 

If it's too much, then they simply die by heart attack

K:- According to rules of the death note there is a time limit of 23 days, unless you give them a long affecting disease, in which case time is needed for that to progress

E:- So it can like give them cancer?

K:- exactly. Or like tuberculous or whatnot. 

Also by the rules, it's possible  to fill out  all the other details and exclude a name. And the circumstances will be inactive until you put a name in. 

So like you could go   ____ will decide to shoot up a convenience store and kill  _____, ______, _____, _____, and _____, at _____ on ______ the ____  of _____, before running into the street and being hit by a car. 

From there you have 19 days to add the names of the victims.

Light Turner will decide to shoot up a convenience store and kill Nate Rivers, Qualish Whammy,Teru Mikami, Misa Amane, and Beyond Birthday at 6pm on Thursday the 23rd of March, before running into the street and being hit by a car. 

You should probably fill it in at a time before 5:55 pm Thursday March 23, so everyone has time to make it to the convenience store for the shooting. 

Even if you set this from pre-canon when Beyond Birthday isn't in jail and everyone is alive, they still might not be able to make it to the convenience store in time, in which case they might just die of Heart attack.  

Otherwise you have a time priority. You have 40 seconds from writing the name down to pick a cause of death, then 6min40s to add details after writing the cause down. 

If you write the time of death within 40 seconds of writing down COD a heart attack, then the time can be manipulated. So if they write down “Light Tuner dies of a heart attack” then quickly add “At 6pm on  Monday the 11th” then Light Turner isn't going to die of a heart attack quite yet. 

If the other victims were unspecified, for instance “Light Turner shoots up a convenience store full of people before running into traffic.” Light will just die of a heart attack. Convenience store full of people is not specific, and falls under the category of “more than the intended”, so for it to work, shooter Light has to have a target(s). 

It might work if you specify it misses, in which case Light Turner goes into the convenience store, misses every shot, and then runs into traffic,  but it also might just heart attack him, as that might leave too much potential for accidents. 

We never really saw Light do much with that rule, or anyone else. 

I also haven't really seen a Light (or OCs even) be respectful and curious about the existence of Shinigamis. Be it SI OC, OC, Canon, or even self inserts, the characters just seem to go, “oh neat Shinigami exist, now let's kill people (or don't) with this notebook.”

So your Lady Lights interaction with Death Gods is refreshing to me. What religion would you say your Light follows, out of curiosity? It would be rude for me to assume. 

Those are good questions. 

In the A or B scenario It will  depend on your rules. If you decide the notebook prioritizes priority (first to be written down) or ease of access, for instance. 

If you write conditionals, unless the condition is contracting deadly disease (or your choice of slow acting death), you are still probably subject to the 19 day rule for triggers, for the most canon interpretation anyways. But this is not canon, is it 😁

If it's say “Beyond Birthday dies of dehydration in the arctic on Friday the 13th of May” and Beyond Birthday is in prison, it will probably just heart attack him. 

It's possibly possible to write 6 pages of insanely controlled prison break, border crossing, and driving then fill his name in, so he can get to the arctic at max speed and die, but if arctic dehydration and a date is the only specifier, it will probably conclude “not possible”

Of course writing that level of detail that is fillable and accurate would probably need the amount of work that goes into movie heist levels, and even so it still might not work. Remember “nothing goes according to plan” 

The highly detailed plan can be undone by someone in the right place at the wrong time for you. Like say, someone who wasn't supposed to be in the building at the time came back for their keys. 

For clauses, you might want to look at Netflix Death note. It uses different rules and characters (such as the burning page rule) than the OG death note, but it does offer exploration of clauses and conditions in a way that the original doesn't get into, which would be useful to look at even if you were to decide against it. 

Oh hey, it's Yuri! The girl who went on a date that started with a bus jacking, and still wanted to have a good time at spaceland. Cool to see you developing her into a Kira supporter, and she's as good a person as any to argue Kira with, given we don't see a lot of Light's friends. And you have made her pretty rude or die here!

If you hadn't specified, it might have made more sense to have Light switch to study at Yuri's and have that conversation away from the cameras. Or have Light set it up so the conversation could happen. 

Instead you had Sachiko leave Light and Sayu alone at home, and Light wants to be a good older sister and not leave her alone with the house. 

So she can't swap. 

Given Light mostly goes after convicted criminals, does your Light have the distinction from other Lights of doing background research about their crimes and what may have lead to it? Canon Light is rather judgmental and of the belief that “a criminal is an undesirable who has no place in our society.” 

Canon Light is also a Privileged Japanese Male who trusts and believes in the justice system, and the values of his society. 

In Japan, the burden  of Proof is upon the prosecution, and has in there what is being called a hostage justice system 

It's hard to be a defence lawyer in Japan when once indicted the conviction rate is 99.8%   

With that in mind Phoenix Wright going up against insane odds to prove his clients innocence in Japanafornia doesn't seem so far fetched anymore. 

You are probably going to want to do research into Japan's attitude towards criminals and crime in order to achieve the nuance of opinions you want to display from characters within this fic. 

I also recommend looking into confucian values vs western individualization based values, as the philosophies a society and community live by also influence their opinions as much as gender, religion, and such.  

It could also be an Interesting thing to have Light and L have contrasting views and values on, spoken in discussion perhaps. 

 Physiological impossibility is an interesting question. 

Death note says that suicide is a potential within all humans, implying that even if a human is intensly psychologically opposed to suicide, by writing it in the death it is made a reality. 

So to what extent the personal philosophy of an individual can hold against an instrument of a god is a good question. 

Certainly a thing worth exploring in fic. 

So with the earlier parameters of the death note above, Light gives people slow acting cancer (to give the death note a hold on them) and writes that they will be better people. 

Kind of reminds me of conversion strategy where they convert sick people before they die, telling them if they spend the rest of their life doing good deeds and having faith, they will go to heaven, and god might save them. 

Is it truly salvation if done under duress? If someone else makes that decision about your future actions? 

I'm sure Light and L will also talk about that with opposing viewpoints. They are foils to each other, with intellectual attraction to the others opposing viewpoints. They like to argue the other side.

So I think its pretty important that L has their own set of arguments against Lights viewpoints. 

That Oragami language with Sayu is really cute. 

E:- Sayu studying the Origami :- “is she trying to Rap?” 

K:- Sayu concludes that her sister is talented at many things, but lyrics are not one of them, lol. 

E:- We have different interpretations of Misa.

K:- Jenne wants to go in the direction of Misa being a creep to her.Did... did they kind of just swap Light and Misas personalities? Wait not quite. 

Hmmm, I'm picking up Mia Sutton vibes from this character. 

E:- I say our Light is more aggressive.

K:- and less religious 

E:-  And while our Misa isn't a yes man, he's more willing to go with what Light wants while retaining his personality as bubbly but willing to end you. I'm partial towards our cause of the unlikely friendship we had for him and Fem L.

Misa, to me, is first a victim in Death Note. A victim who manages to finally have power to fight back. 

Misa is deeply depressed, and not in a good headspace after the trial, losing her parents, her parents killer almost gets off Scott free and then almost gets killed herself. 

And you have me who likes angst but crack.-put my clown wig on -

Also literally no contact of her sister or in this case older sister

K:- Yah we have different interpretations of Misa, which makes sense as we are different authors with different themes we want to explore in our writing. 

E:-Also was thinking what kinda of rizz Misa got going on back in Death Note. Like girl your nurse friend was happy to cover for you as a fake you to escape a cop. 

K:- Misa had insane charm stat!

E:-  She does! That's why I want to keep that with M Misa. M Misa had to deal with creeps regardless if it's a female patron or male

K:- We should ask Jenne if Misa is still in the entertainment industry, in the swap, and talk about actor coverups and stuff

E:- M Misa probably startled modeling young, good looks and a certain fashion sense that would get girls flustered and charming. 

Reading up on predatory patronage for male idols is upsetting too. Getting sexualized, and having a more isolated time than the female idols would be.

If you think about it. Everything about Misa is always going to be tied to Lust/romance/sexuality

K:- Unfortunately 

E:- I think that's why I have a different view of Misa. Misa is first a victim.

Then a killer

K:-I think being in the industry really screwed with Misa's perception of relationships

E:- It's definitely did. That's why Fem Misa was so insistent on being Light's GF. That's what she knows. And it's going to be the same for M Misa as well

Forced dating is a thing and being a young attractive male model in 90's Japan with skeevy business dealers,

Well money buys things.

K:- sex sells so they say

E:- M Misa wouldn't like Fem L very much at first. They would get along at some point

Enough for M Misa feeling guilty enjoying shopping with the enemy

K:-The way we have written him. Definitely. and that's a lot of the fun with him

E:- I just really like our version a lot ahahha

K:- A genuine relationship with someone you mutually plan to kill one day can’t not be intense

E:- Exactly, and since they do have to be in close quarters, there would be justification in finding common ground. 

I want to see Fem L go shopping at least, enjoy just having a friend. Or whatever she and M Misa have going on.

Fem Light is always more ruthless, and M Misa was emotional

K:- I felt that Light was a ruthless sort of person anyways and that Misa was the more emotional one and that felt important to me to keep as a core part of their characters even as genders changed

E:- Exactly. Light isn't Light without the ego, the narcissism, the need for control and cut throat

K:- Tell that to Light Turner. Mia Sutton was more excited by being Kira in Netflix death Note. 

E:- Misa isn't Misa without their depression, the need for attention, charisma, cleverness, and rage under it all. 

We will ignore that version

K:- That version is hilarious to me! I enjoyed watching it with my friend! But to be real about it, it does do it's best to work with the American setting and values within it the characters while sticking with the death note plot.

L:- I think Kira is a psychic

Also I like how  in both Jennes universe and OG death note Rem is  Homoromantic

But Yah Mia Sutton took charge more often, even going behind Lights back about some of the Deaths. 

A quote from her “I saved you... from yourself again. Because every time things get hard, you leave me to do the real stuff.”

I also think you would be interested in this video about gender norms in Japan

The Kanji one would also probably be relevant, but this one seems more relevant to Light and L's portrayal, and attitude they will get in the workforce. 

E: Once more the freedom found in the choice of fashion of women in Japan. In Misa's case was gothic Lolita. Misa is iconic with her outfits in the Death Note Series and I would see that the case with her male counterpart.

Also as much as I dislike the American version of it, I will admit I do like the line of their Misa on having to do the hard work and that resentment you can practically feel

K:-I enjoyed watching it with my friend, and not watching it, I look back at it in an academic sense and think about the amaricanasationism they infused the characters of death note with, and where it works and doesn't.

E:-Culture is hard to integrate into a different one.

K:- Death note is a Japanese story, and taking it out of Japan feels weird for a variety of reasons, and as I am learning more about Japanese culture I can reflect on what about it works there, and why it doesn't jive as easily elsewhere. 

For instance, Knowing more about Japanese Justice, and confusion values gives insight into why Light Yagami is LIKE that. 

Collectivist values explain why Light wants to kill off Criminals and Lazy people.  

In North America values it's like "Lazy????  Your logic has taken a sharp turn somewhere?"

But to Light Y, criminals and Lazy people are both the kind of people who break the social harmony of the community.

He's also a privileged middle class to rich person who has faith in the Japanese Justice system and overall rules of society. 

He's not burned by it. He upholds it. Benefits from it. 

K:-Light Turner did have less faith in the justice system as be feels it failed him when getting justice for the death of his mother. Which he did remedy through the notebook. 

But he is also against killing them, where Mia trying to get him to kill his Dad. 

Of course Light Yagami was fine to kill American FBI agents, but Misa was the one who killed Japanese police force members. 

And I think Mia Sutton has more in common with Light Y, and Light T has more in common with Misa. It's sort of Flipped. 

Light Y and Mia are both playing the manipulative femme fatale role and are with their partner to better kill people, where Light T and Misa were trying to seek a personal justice with their death notes.

E:- that's actually interesting, Light T took a more emotional approach. I can see why most fans don't like that type of change. 

K:- I think its an interesting adaption

If you actually think about it, if Light was the only genderbent character in deathnote, the show would take very dark turn and would communicate a different message.

K:- " If Light was the only genderbent character in death note, the show would communicate a diffrent message, yes, primarly because the show was written in the early 2000s with 90s values, and its creator was not good at nuanced portrayal of women, to put it mildly. Look at how Death Note treats Misa. Shes treated as a legit threat until she joins up with Light where she becomes more of a joke. Yes the sexism and being talked down to for being a girl would drive Light nuts, but its nothing she didnt already deal with growing up. Would it be harder for them to take her seriously? Yes-"

E :- "Which is obvious considering the early 90's 00's Japanese work culture. Even now it's still a breakthrough.

But they may or may not be trying to say Fem Light would suffer under male hands or something of that issue.

Would the Task Force hurt fem Light? Doubt it. Most of them are respectful men, the worst I can say is they can get hot headed with each other as men.

Laying hands on Fem Light? No.

They never did that to Misa not counting the time with Soichiro as that was with Light under the impression they were suspects."

K:- "Misa being under arrest and filmed was pretty yikes. And Solitary confinement was already a pretty dark and messed up angle to go. But Light here is the chief of police's daughter. She has the power of Neoptisim and a prior connection with most of them on her side. "

E:- " True true. He already had a bond with them. Misa's arrest was more hostile. Maybe that is what they were referring too?"

K:-"Misa was both treated like a threat and not.

Later on in the prisonorship she had police escort shopping privlages, but at first that image is pretty wack.

And why? What are we supposted to infer from this?"

E :-"I know right? She's a threat enough to keep around surveillance but not enough to stop her from swapping places with friends.

She can show she is capable of fooling people but it's not enough to treat her as a genuine threat. I doubt Misa minds it. It gives her so much leniency to get away with things.

But for fem Light it's infuriating.

But here I wonder if L would see her as a threat?

My canon L doesn't give a fuck about your gender. Only if you can actually play the game. Violence is not restricted by gender. Anyone is capable."

K:- " Are we supposted to infer something about L from Misas outfit while being filmed? I guess its interpritive, but I see it more as L breaking social boundries to make her unconfortable and push her closer to hopefully breaking. Same with the handcuffs really."

E:- " L does that with everyone. She ain't special in that which makes it oddly open minded.L does that to me by getting his damn feet on things."

K:- " I don't think L cares about Gender. But the steryotypes at the time imposed preformances of gender upon most of the players"

E:- "Right right. Such as expected reactions"

K:- "And I admit, I AU for fun. I'm not intrested in exploring the darker timeline where the taskforce is a skeevy to female Light.

And we acknowledged that the world would treat them diffrently by gender from where the concept was first incepted with female L.

Its always been part of the considerations, the Sexisim present in Japan at the time at which Death note was written. Hell, I'm probably missing nuances from it, from not being Japanese nor Not being an adult in the 90s"

E:- "We can only gather what we know and work with it. And once again this is for fun."

: )

[xplrvibes]

can they switch it up for once and have colby being slutty? It's getting boring lol

Imagine him as the tin man in a booty skirt and corset top. Silver paint down those normal ass legs...😍

[moeblob]

Honestly? Good anime imo! I really enjoyed Aileen. I enjoyed Claude. I enjoyed Isaac and Keith and Rachel and Almond and Ribbon. I enjoyed Belzebuth and the flock of ducks (Walt/Kyle/Auguste) and Jasper.

[vani-ash]

I'm just trying to make a timeline of Paradise Of Thorns for myself feel free to correct me if it sounds wrong. (Spoilers for the movie)

According to google it takes approximately 3-5 months to grow durian to ripe from when they first bloom, So the movie takes place roughly over 5 months if we go for the longest time.

Thongkam is a monk for about a month (again i just googled how long temple duties take and it said a month).

At the start when asked how long until the durians are ready to sell Thongkam says 4 months, so its been 1 month by himself before they move in.

And then I think when he gets back from being a monk, that's probably close to 4 months being done (he goes to do it 4 months in? based off 1 month by himself, 3 hospital visits )

Mae Saengs hospital visits are once a month, we only see 2, once at the start, and once when Thongkam buys her the wheelchair, but there is a third we don't see where Thongkam goes to sell the produce and tells them they have to take a taxi.

I think Jingna shows up around halfway through the second month.

The time between Sek and Thongkam finding their first durian bloom, getting married, Sek dying, and Seks funeral is unclear to me. I did think they got married, paid off the debt and Sek dying happened in a day but i think it'd make more sense to be like a week. (I thought a day cause Sek asks to marry and its like sunrise, then it cuts to them going to pay the debt, which i assume was already mostly paid off if they could do it this quickly, so like i assume Thongkam insisted on paying it that day instead of whenever he was scheduled to pay it, Sek leaves to do things, then comes back that night. But after trying to time line it i think a week or two sounds more realistic?)

So sometime within the first month all that happens, and then I've just been using the hospital visits to try and count how long each section takes.

-1 month alone/with sek -3 months with Mae Saeng, Mo and Jingna -1 month away at temple -1 month with Jingna (the durians arent fully done when he gets back so I'm adding 1 more month even though thats over 5)

I think Mo's wedding, and the rest of the ending all takes place on the same day/night. Also Sek / Thongkam been together 5+ years

Mo / Sek been together 20 years (?)

(Mo wanted to leave to work in bangkok 10 years ago but Sek convinced her to stay, so Thongkam/ Sek could be together more than 5 years as thats only how long hes been paying the debt?)

[moregraceful]

many things i have been keeping under wraps at work, such as pronouns, but also, very critically, age. bc i got that ageless mixed race asian swag where i am very clearly not an undergrad but also??? they just don't know. and it WHIPS and it is so funny to ME because all the managers and shift supervisors are like damn this girl in her mid-twenties is so easy to talk to, it's like talking to a peer. surprise bitch i'm older than you. and maybe this means i'm performing psychological experiments on cis men, but i am ngl if i hand you a two page resume that you don't read, it is simply none of MY business if you think i am in my mid-20s. they are going to be so mad when they find out lmao