#mango ask

[softmangoes]

mango! hello there ^ ^ firstly, you. are. an. incredible. writer!! secondly, i came across a song recently that immediately reminded me of sun and joseph's relationship :D the song is Peaceful Easy Feeling by the Eagles! believe it or not, you'll find old albums that shockingly vibe with joseph down to a tee- but thats a whole other rabbit hole ill save for another day! this song is so SO very sun and joseph coded and im moments away from exploding the sooner this very piece of information doesn't get across to you. sending all my love <33

hi humdrum!! 🧡 i have been beaming about this message for days, so thank you for reaching out! i would love to hear about any rabbit holes you may have. we can always explore together! i love listening to music to help me write and this song is absolutely perfect when it comes to describing sun and joseph's relationship so i've decided to make it canon because they refuse to calm down and leave me in peace to write my emails this side story (expansion?) takes place right after chapter two of never let me go.

you make it easy

September 1982

For the first time in years, Joseph slept in. Usually, he would wake up right before the crack of dawn, memories of darker days prickling at his psyche. These were the moments he’d roll out of bed, skin slick with fear and adrenaline rushing white-hot through his body, before he would slip on a tank top and running shorts and head out of the door. 

This habit had started a little over a month after he had moved into El Paraiso, when he woke up to Sun shaking him. 

“You’re awake,” she exhaled, her breath heavy and her eyes wide. “For a second there, I thought you were just going to keep screaming.” 

It took him a moment to realize that he was gripping her arms and another to register that she was practically on top of him, her hands pressed against his shoulders. In the dim moonlight, he could see the dampness on her forehead and how disheveled her hair was. Joseph swallowed, taking note of how raw his throat felt. 

“I’m…sorry,” he started, blinking the world back into focus. In this moment, there was no blood on his hands, bruises on his cheek, or mud beneath his feet. There was no river to drown in or streets to run across. There was only the desert night and Sun’s shaky fingers. Joseph released his grip on her, worried that he had somehow hurt her. “Are you alright?” “Me?” Sun scoffed. “You’re the one who was fighting demons. Are you alright?”

“Nightmare,” he said, his sandpaper tongue licking chapped lips. “A pretty bad one.” She inhaled, the tension in her body loosening before she braced herself against his shoulders and looked straight into his eyes. Whatever words he had been about to say fell quiet amidst the intensity of her gaze. 

“You’re safe, okay?” She said, resolute. There was a sense of understanding in her eyes. Joseph’s face went flush. Even then, he was still trying to get used to her directness, to the way she said things he never knew he needed to hear. “I won’t let anything hurt you.” 

Despite her gentle demeanor, there were times in which Sun burned so hot that she threatened to melt the walls he had spent years building.  All Joseph could do was nod, silently thankful that she wasn’t the type to pry. He had his own fair share of ghosts and it wouldn't be fair for him to bring up specters from the past to the only person who didn’t look at him with fear. 

He shifted himself, conscious of the position they were in. In any other moment, his skin would have flared at how close they were, their bodies separated by a mere few layers of cloth.

Instead, he winced. “Sun,” he said, taking a pained breath. “Your knee’s on my rib.”

After that incident, Joseph would start his day by lacing up his shoes to go for a run. He warmed up by jogging a couple circuits around the parking lot, pounding the asphalt  just until the sky began to lighten and the fear and adrenaline that plagued him from past haunts turned into sweat and warm muscle. By the time he launched into a full sprint down the empty sidewalks, calves searing and lungs aching, he only ever had one thought on his mind: the press of Sun’s body against his, pinning him to their bed.  I won’t let anything hurt you.

Every morning, Joseph ran down the desert streets until he could do nothing else but burn. Whatever apprehension he felt at the beginning of the exercise would sear away within moments, leaving him with a desire he could never hope to fulfill.  He’d never admit that he would imagine pulling her closer to have those words whispered into his ear, to feel the heat of her breath on his neck, to become enveloped in a promise no one had ever sworn to him until that moment. 

Once he reached his final lap, he would lean against the facade of the neighborhood bar, chest heaving as the new day smoldered across the sky. He would watch the sun alight on the horizon, knowing that it wouldn’t be long until the one that had dawned in his life would rise soon enough. 

Joseph wiped at his forehead with a bandana before slicking back his hair into a small ponytail. This was the longest time he’d spent in any one area. If it wasn’t for the contract he had with the studio, he would have packed up and left El Paso months ago. He knew that signing on with them had its risks, but the stable income allowed him the freedom to make other decisions. Still, money and career aside, he found that had no urge to hop onto a bus, get a motel, or do anything that would leave him far from the one person he wanted to be around. 

I won’t let anything hurt you, she had said. But could he say the same? 

The last thing he wanted to do was risk her safety for his own selfishness. There were people after him, he was sure of it. People that his father owed money to. People who wanted answers. Even after all these years, Joseph had a feeling they weren’t the type to forget what they were owed.

He leaned his head against the concrete facade, sighing. Despite his fears, this was the first time in his life that he had felt anything close to peace. If he wanted to stay with her, then they had to stay friends. There was no use in making her complicit. At the end of the day the soreness in his legs, the sweat slicking his skin, and the burning in his lungs were one of the few things that could distract him from the ache of wanting something he couldn’t have. 

So he’d walk his way back to the apartment, his skin warm from the heat of the rising sun. But this morning was different. The day after they dropped off the cardboard box with the scrawled-out name at the thrift shop and picked up new items for the apartment, Joseph dreamed of flowers. 

Above him, white blossoms drifted in the wind like falling stars. The crab apples were in bloom and there was only one place where they flourish with this much abundance—the old lake just a few blocks from his high school. He had many memories of floating on its surface, the cool water soothing the mementos from his father’s fists. 

From where he was lying, Joseph could see the sunlight filtering through the branches above him in an ever shifting mosaic of dappled light and watched as the tiny green leaves shuddered in the soft breeze. Growing up, this was the only place that had given him any sense of ease. 

Fingers trailed through his locks, tickling his scalp. It took him a moment to notice that his head was resting on someone’s lap.

“Hey,” Sun said, smiling. There was a sparkle in her eyes.  “So this is where you grew up? It’s pretty.” 

“It’s nothing much,” he said, noticing that all of this wasn’t real despite how much he wanted it to be. There was a flower that had been caught in her hair. Even here, he resisted the urge to reach for it. “This was the only good thing about it.”

And so much had changed since he last saw the crab apples bloom. He had changed. “Besides,” Joseph continued as the first few droplets began to fall. Once the rain reached the flowers, the tender petals became translucent and skeletal—ghosts sodden by the past, being pressed into the blades of grass around them. Joseph could feel each droplet fall onto his skin, but noticed that Sun was untouched. 

There wasn’t much time. He lifted himself up to face her and to place a hand on her cheek. A smile curled the edges of her mouth, the corners of her eyes crinkling softly. Even in this dream, she felt so real, but someone like her didn’t belong in the memories that he had worked so hard to leave behind.  “I’ve found a place to stay,” he said right before the nightmare could take hold of him. 

Once he opened his eyes, Joseph found herself saying her name. His hand smoothed across the empty bed, the sheets cool at his touch. The room glowed with the full brightness of the morning and he shot up, wondering how long he had been asleep for. 

“Sun,” he called out, wiping away a spot of drool with the back of his hand. “Sun?” 

The bedroom was different. Tucked away in the corner by the closet was the walnut drawer they had bought from the thrift shop the day before. His duffel bag sat on top of it, still unpacked. 

A large photo frame hung on the wall above it filled with an assembly of postcards from different parts of the world. Each one was addressed to Sun, signed by her father. Joseph slipped out of bed, making his way to the hallway. The apartment was eerily quiet and far brighter than usual. Every window in the living room had been opened, shining the morning light on the newly arranged apartment. Near the windows, he noticed that Sun’s record player was out of its package, with each vinyl placed carefully onto a display rack beside it. 

The desk lamp from the thrift store sat on the edge of the dining table, complemented by a cup full of blue pens. Sun had told him the lamp was so he didn’t have to strain his eyes while reviewing his scripts every night.  With this new setup, Joseph imagined going over his lines while chatting with Sun across from him. 

A few Texas postcards were splayed out on the table, one of them addressed to Sun’s father. 

When Joseph saw that Sun’s shoes were still by the front door, he went to the bathroom and found her crumpled against the shower. 

His blood became ice. 

Joseph knelt in front of her, pressing his fingers to her wrist. Her pulse was slow, but steady. 

Fear spiked through his body, urging him to take hold of her face to rip the bandana from her hair to check for any signs of blood on her scalp. The bathroom was sharp with the scent of disinfectant. Rubber gloves and rags were strewn around her body. At some point, he figured, she must have fallen and hit her head as she was cleaning. 

“Hey,” he said, calculating whether it’d be safe enough to carry her. The keys to the truck were by the front door. It’d only take them around twenty minutes for him to get them to the nearest hospital if he drove with his foot pressed to the pedal. 

For good measure, Joseph leaned over to press his ear against her chest to check her breathing when he felt her fingers smooth over his hair. 

“You’re still here,” she yawned, blinking away the bleariness from her eyes. “That’s good.” 

Joseph fell back onto his palms, confused. “What?” “God, did I fall asleep?” She said, wincing as she rubbed the side of her neck. “This is going to suck so much.”

“Sun,” he said, trying to keep his voice level despite the panic prickling along his skin. The bathroom tile was clammy beneath his palms, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of the linoleum or his hands.  “What’s going on?” 

She sighed, sounding even more tired than a moment ago. “I got it into my head that I could tidy the apartment and rearrange everything before you woke up,” she looked away, sheepish. “You know, as a surprise. I wanted a clean slate. For us.” 

For us. It took him a moment for him to register what she meant. A clean slate. Just the day before, they had gotten rid of her ex’s things and in exchange for some new additions for the apartment. The makeover had been a way for her to move on and move forward. With him. 

“You’re a workaholic,” he drawled, the hint of a laugh softening his words. “Has anybody ever told you that?” 

Sun smiled, her eyes glinting in the way that made his chest tighten. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “I’m glad you didn’t leave.” Joseph’s fingers curled against the tile. “What do you mean?” Sun brought her knees to her chest. “While I was out, I had a dream about the morning you left. You wrote that note. Said you had owed me one for letting you stay the night.” She rested her chin on her arms, casting her eyes low.  “When I was cleaning everything, I felt a little worried that calling this place our home would end up turning you away.” Joseph sighed, taking a moment to look around the bathroom. She’d done all of this rearranging only to feel afraid that he was going to run again? For years, running was all he knew best. But not this time. 

“You think I’d leave after we finally found a place for my toothbrush?” He asked, jerking his head towards the cactus-shaped toothbrush holder that they’d bought the day before that was sitting beneath the medicine cabinet. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Why?” 

There was a lot hanging behind that question. Sometimes even he forgot that before he stepped into the apartment, she had lived in it alone for so long. 

For a moment, he considered telling her about the dream with the lake, the tree, and its flowers. But that was a place that no longer existed. A month before he ran away from his hometown, the old crab apple had been struck by lightning. In one moment, the trunk was charred and split in half, never to bloom again. Whatever beauty the tree had offered to the place existed only in his dreams. 

But this was better than any dream. The linoleum beneath his palms. The sharp smell of disinfectant in the air. Her dark eyes looking right back at him. This was real. 

“You make it easy,” he said, his voice steady. “To stay.” 

A moment passed between them. 

“Good,” Sun beamed. “I’m glad.” As she loosened the hold around her knees, her stomach growled. She groaned, embarrassed.

Joseph laughed, pushing himself off the floor. Knowing her, she probably hadn’t had a bite to eat since the night before.  “Come on,” he said, offering his hand to help her up. “Let’s get some breakfast.”  Sun grinned. "Can you make the eggs like you did the last time? I've been dreaming about them."

✷ ever since they celebrated his first month at the apartment by cooking a pasta recipe together, joseph has been using the cookbook sun bought for them diligently. because of all the time he's spent on the run, he never learned how to cook and has been practicing often so he can impress her eat well. one of his favorite things about having this new skill is sharing a meal together.

✷ joseph grew up in a rainy logging town far from el paso. he's got a few scars from his time working at the lumber mill after school. ✷ sun is a pretty heavy sleeper while a feather falling through the air will usually wake joseph up unless he's absolutely exhausted. ✷ sun is a workaholic but so is joseph and maybe they've woken up to find the other leaning up against them while asleep on the the couch once or twice or a few times and didn't make a huge deal about it at all. they definitely didn't think about it for hours the day after. nope. ✷ sun does have a habit of occasionally having serious conversations while straddling or pinning someone down and it's really because it's a good way to prove a point, alright? she used to wrestle bullies to the ground as a teenager to teach them lessons and the habit never really left her. ✷ of course joseph followed sun on a tour around their apartment to listen to her talk about all the new changes she made and all the things they'll share together after they finished their breakfast. they spent like half an hour sifting through postcards from sun's dad.

a postcard on the dining table from me, pushed away to make space for bacon and eggs: thanks for reading! 🧡 i hope you enjoyed this one and i'd love to hear about what you think. i'm considering making a collection of side stories for this fic, so we'll see where that goes. 🥭

[theywerebothgirls]

ask me things about faberry i need to talk about faberry ☝️🤓

[chloesimaginationthings]

The way you draw mangle is just so wet dog code to me <33

THEYRE JUST A PUPPERRRR

[thatonefishfriend]

eat your greens

[lui-the-cute-snek]

codeword mango!!

tfp wheelratch pretty please with a cherry on top 👉👈

Here you go! Sorry this took me a bit, I have little to no experience drawing tfp bots

[mixmangosmangoverse]

I hate to say it but everyone saying there's Pre-Holocaust vibes are correct

We're seeing a massive spread of unchecked, unrepentant antisemitism spreading quicker with social media now. People are cheering on murdered Jewish kids and then fact checking us to tell us it didn't happen

Blood libel is gaining traction like never before all the while Jews in the Diaspora are being attacked

So to all you proud Nazi Punchers, I must ask,

Why are you standing by, letting this happen, repeating things the Nazis could only dream of? Why aren't you standing up, dismantling antisemitism in your movement, helping Jews once again forced to hide in their homes?

Or was it never about protecting Jews? Just about protecting your egos

[its-a-me-mango]

I ABSOLUTELY ADORE THE WAY YOU DRAW SMG3!! I NEED TO SEE MORE!!!

Well who am I to say no to the SMG3 enjoyers, order up, he'll poison it just for you <3

[bovineblogger]

could you possibly make a haiku about cows?

🐄🐃🐂🐮

much larger than i

my arms dont fit its body

i hold what i can

[officialoddswapau]

Hey Cyn, do you like mangos?

Yeah

[amycherrysoda]

“Reuniting”

🟠🟣🟢

(This was after the big fight scene :3)

[poppyflavour]

Another suggestion, this time from @/gonepoofed !! I really like the outcome :D

[theywerebothgirls]

My faberry hc is autistic Quinn and adhd Rachel...i don't think the first one is popular 😅

I think autistic Rachel and neurotypical Quinn are more popular.

I once read a fanfic where they wrote Quinn as autistic but I didn't like how they portrayed her, autistic Rachel is better written in canon.

[itsyouch]

love ur artstyle so much <3<3<3<3 if requests are up could you do mango or purple? hehe

>///< thank youuu <333

Sorry this took so long! I really wanted to make them doing something silly but I couldn't think of anything I liked :,)

Im actually really happy with these designs though XP

[codename-adler]

ur trademark is Joselito loml

and to think, nay, to witness—that i have completely missed this…? bambam ‘tis most joyful gift to me 🫶 i now come bearing gifts for you & all fans of Joselito

30.

one day, Seth. one day Kevin will fall so hard for you(r dick). but that is not today.

-> aftg socmed au masterpost

[thatonefishfriend]

some of y'all wanted to hug him, so i obliged <3

[erwinsvow]

non sexual dominance just really tickles my pickle. do you have any thoughts about sammy and his acts of non sexual dominance (or. yknow. vaguely kind-of sexual dominance)? little things he does around the house or while out and about?

definitely not projecting. i am NOT begging our lord above to give me a spouse who brushes + dries my hair after i shower and orders for me at restaurants. that would be weird. nuh uh. not me.

do i have any thoughts. i have so many thoughts the worms started exploding one by one. mister sammy bryant and his urge to take care of you because it's very clear to him how much you take care of him. for someone who is so used to being let down / hurt / disappointed all the time to not having to feel that way around you or about you. it is like a fresh breath of air. and also at the same time very unknown to him?? if that makes sense?? not being used to the way you can almost read his mind (like when he's had a bad day and you don't talk much but come give him a long hug and a cold beer) or how you take care of things for him when he's got a lot on his mind (the doctor's appointment that he needed to reschedule a month ago, remembering to add something to the grocery list that would have ruined dinner plans when he was going to cook). it's nothing crazy, nothing extreme. but you fill in gaps he didn't realize were empty so then when he looks at you he just kind of has this urge to take care of you. to make sure you're okay. seen and heard and taken care of without having to ask.

so for our little shy reader future wifey in particular! it's extremely blurry lines between vaguely kind-of sexual and kind of not. he senses your anxiety before you can feel it, and he eliminates it where he can. like when you worry, for example, that people are mad at you. he doesn't know why it happens, but he knows it will happen, so he just naturally takes over. orders for you at restaurants so you don't have to talk to the waiter. or how he memorizes your coffee order, so he can just step up and order for both of you while you practice saying the words in your head a couple of times before realizing you don't have to! because sammy ordered for you. that's such a good example of him taking care of you in a way that makes you tingly all over. but one step further. he always does that headlock thing that guys do. just waiting in line with you at the coffee shop or waiting to be seated somewhere or in the checkout line at the grocery store. and you just feel his huge arm around your neck, engulfing your shoulder and clavicle, fingertips on your other shoulder. and just stays like that for ages. it's not even inherently sexual he's not choking you out or anything but it's just the motion. the way people look and know, oh obviously they're together. how when it's time to move the hand moves to swing across your back or rest firmly on your waist. just very touchy feely in public but not in any way that is too pda-y or gross or intrusive. just casual dominance in the grocery store. does it so he easily yank you out of the way if there's someone getting through behind you. stares at whoever it is while you're pressed against his chest until they leave the aisle. it's also the "kid" nickname being dropped in every possible situation. right after the aisle clears he goes "gotta watch out, kid" but you know you don't actually have to, because he always will. for you.

i feel like when he comes home from work he goes straight to you for a hug. you do this thing where you loosen his tie and unbutton the first button for him and you two just kinda stay like that for a bit until you tell him dinner's almost ready but he doesn't budge for like five minutes. stays there staring at you and takes your jaw in his hand and manhandles you against the counter and gives you a real kiss before going "smells good. thanks sweetheart." just nsaifjbask i don't know what it is about the domesticity with sammy but it gives me butterflies because you know all he's wanted in such a long time is a good girl to come home to and he finally has it and he does a little thing like kiss you really hard for too long and leave you a little breathless and your jaw tingling where he held you and it's his way of telling you that he's happy you're there in not so many words. or how he starts cleaning up after dinner and swats your hand away when you try to help and tells you to go get ready for bed. that he can take care of it. or the c'mere, sweetheart when you two get into bed. just imagined freshly showered sammy with wet curls smelling so good. he's shirtless, just in a pair of plaid pajama pants and you're wearing one of his plain white shirts to bed, putting on lotion or something and he just says that and your brain turns off. he says it every night but it never fails to make your head devoid of any thoughts. you comply, obviously, and he just positions you on his chest or pushes your back against him and keeps a firm hand on your waist and maybe you just stay like that for a little until your eyes get droopy. but you wanna keep talking but as soon as you hear the "go to bed, kid" or the "goodnight, sweetheart" you're out like a light.

even around the house. let's say you're not married. flip between your two apartments (let's pretend it is cervine. across the hall neighbors. jesus almighty.) and when he's over—which is a lot of the time—he has this habit of fixing things. things that you wouldn't know how to fix. ridding you of the headache from squeaky cabinet doors and the closet door that won't close all the way. he'd seen you struggle with it before bed once and the next day he comes over after work and gives you your hug and your kiss and then goes straight into your bedroom to fix it. one of the lightbulbs in your bathroom went out a while ago. you don't have a ladder but even if you did, you couldn't figure out what kind of bulb it needed and you didn't wanna go to the hardware store so you just have a two-thirds lit bathroom. until one day you don't anymore. that's just like boyfriend helping you stuff but there's something so feral behind the flesh of it... like there's not a problem in the world sammy can't fix for you. and you like that realization a lot but what's worse is how much sammy likes it. like when you get on your knees to thank him for fixing something extremely stupid. and he stutters out "it-it's nothin' kid, you d-don't have to-" but you interrupt him with "but i want to." you said he brushes you hair and i raise you one more. carries you into the shower and loves to wash your hair for you, literally can't get enough of it. especially when he knows you've had a bad day and you just need to not think for a little bit. tells you to relax against him and he uses his strength to hold you up, you focus on the feeling of his fingertips on your scalp and how warm the water is and how warm sammy is until you're nearly asleep against him. it's not just how caretaking it is. it's not about calling him dad (which you do but this is besides the point) or relying on him or anything else. it's just blind trust and comfort and despite the jokes he cracks and how he teases you when you're alone. how he says (like mango said!!) that this city could eat you alive and spit you out like a seed, that despite everything else and whatever happens at work and however stupid or dependent you might seem that you're not. that he loves you just as much as you love him. that he depends on you just as much as you depend on him and that you both want each other so badly it comes out in every little action throughout the day.