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thefatedthoughtofyou · 4 months

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Holiday Magic

Gator Tillman x GN Reader, friends to lovers, fluff( no pronouns used for the reader [lemme know if i missed any tho just in case] )

Summary: It's Valentines Day, Dot and Wayne and Scotty are all out of the house. It's just you and Gator and the cupcakes you're making. Oh and the massive crush you have on your best friend. What could go wrong?

Warnings: blind gator (if that's one), food and eating, slight mentions of past abuse, very small, like one or two sentences of it.

{ Also these are some of the songs i was imagining. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. }

🍒🧁🍒🧁🍒🧁🍒🧁🍒

"You guys have fun!" You say, smiling as Dot shrugs on her coat, Wayne kneeling to tie his shoes by the door behind her.

"Oh we will hun. And think about what I said." She ducks in to hug you, squeezing you tight. You smile and shake your head.

"Now none'a that. I'm tellin you he feels the same way." She pats your cheeks, you crinkle your nose at her, she does it back and laughs.

"I just...can't. Cuz what if-" you lower your voice and lean closer, worried your friend might hear you, though he's all the way upstairs,

"What if you're wrong? And I say something. And it just makes thing weird? I don't-" you take a deep breath, shaking your head again.

"I'm not sure I could handle things being weird between us. Just because I went and fell for him like an idiot. Ya know?" You shrug.

"Oh hun. Don't say that. You're not an idiot. And I'm not wrong." She smirks, that little twinkle in her eyes that you love so much. Wayne stands with a small groan behind her and puts his arm around his wife, smiling at you.

"She's right ya know. He's definitely sweet on you. Just try. Be brave. We know ya are." He smiles, nods encouragingly. You take a deep breath and then groan loudly, both of them laughing at how flustered you are as they head for the door.

"And hey," Dot turns, points at you, face serious.

"I know he can't see you. But you look cute enough to eat." She nods to your outfit. Just something a bit nicer than what you usually wear, nothing terribly fancy.

"Thanks." You mutter, looking at the floor.

"And I'll try... I guess... Maybe." You look back, smiling sheepishly at them. They laugh and wave as they head out the door. You lean in the doorway as they get in the car, waving again as they back out of the driveway. You shut the door and lean against it, hoping their valentine's dinner goes well. And the movie after it.

Dot had told you she and Wayne would be out late. And Scotty was at a party at a friends so you didn't have to take care of her tonight either. It was just you and Gator. And your baking. Dot offered up her oven to you, and her kitchen, when she learned you loved to bake things. And you'd been using her kitchen ever since.

You were mixing your last batch of cherry chip cupcakes when you heard Gator coming slowly down the stairs. His feet moving with precision, finding each step carefully before setting his foot down on it. You peeked around the corner, watching him, always worried he'd fall. But you'd only seen him trip once, the whole time you'd known him. He got around well once he knew the layout of places.

His blue bandana was wrapped snug around his eyes, hiding the scars you knew were there, but had only seen once or twice. He didn't like people looking at them. Or him, really, all that much. Not because of that. So he covered them. And you didn't mind not seeing, you just wanted him to be comfortable.

"They leave already?" He called when his foot hit the floor and he was on solid ground again. He adjusts the bandana, fingers pushing and tugging at the edge of it as his feet shuffle toward the living room. You look away, moving back to what you're doing.

"Yep! Mom and Dad are off on their date. Scotty's at a little valentine's party. Which is adorable to me, we never did that when we were little. I mean maybe at school but not at each others houses." You smile as you pour the cupcakes and set the tray in the oven, twisting your timer and setting your bowls in the sink as Gator moves into the living room.

His fingers twitch at his sides as he moves. And you know it's because he's fighting the urge to reach out and feel his way around. Dot had told you he did that. Hid and changed the way he got around when people were watching. You smile to yourself as you watch him, arms crossing over your chest.

"And you should have seen the little tux she was wearing. I've never seen a tiny human look so dapper." Gator's head tilts toward the sound of your voice, a laugh falling past his lips at your words.

"She's not that tiny." He scoffs, shaking his head, standing in front of the couch hesitantly. Like he's not sure he wants to sit or not.

"She's tiny to me. It's like when you're a senior in highschool and you look at the freshmen coming in, and it's impossible that you could have ever been that small. They're just babies!" You exclaim, hands flailing in front of you. He laughs loud this time, reaching down to feel the couch before plopping down onto the soft cushions.

"They're like fourteen." He argues, still chuckling.

"Yeah. Fourteen year old babies!" You concede. He snorts again, shakes his head, soothes his hands over his thighs as he sits. You can see the small smile still on his face, like he's content to just sit there and argue with you. And he is. And so are you. It's an easy rhythm you've both gotten used too. The teasing. And the joking.

"Want me to put the radio on?" You ask, already reaching for it before he answers you.

"Yeah sure. Whatcha makin'?" He asks, head tilting, nose sniffing exaggeratedly at the air. Your nose crinkles as you hold back the urge to laugh at him. Sitting there sniffing the air like a curious puppy.

"Cupcakes. Cherry chip. Chocolate frosting for the top. And I'm thinking maybe cherry frosting filling for a few. But I haven't decided." Your brow furrows as you look around the kitchen. One batch already cooling. Almost ready to frost once you get it all mixed together.

"Hmm. Chocolate covered cherry cupcakes." Gator hums, his head tilting.

"Oh. Yeah, I guess so. I didn't even realize." You mumble, wiping at your forehead with the back of your hand. You're sure your covered in flour and batter and frosting. Not that it matters, because he can't see you to make fun of your mess anyway. You hear him chuckle behind you and turn to see him shaking his head at you again. You huff loudly and he snorts at you, his smile growing.

You just stand there. Watching him. And you know you shouldn't. Know it's rude to stare. You know he doesn't like it. But you're not staring because of his eyes. You're staring because... of him. Just him. You've been finding it harder and harder to not stare lately.

The more you've gotten to know him, the more you'd liked him. And you'd watched him grow, since he got here, the new boy next door. Showing up after all the trauma with his family. A trauma he and Dot shared. And he'd been angry, and hurt, and in pain.

But you babysat Scotty for them during the week when they couldn't be home early, so you'd been around. Didn't ask too many questions, though you wanted too, and he seemed to like that. Seemed to relax around you. And when you did eventually start asking questions, he'd answered them. Mostly. Best he could.

You'd watched him grow, into himself, and into the family. And the way he was with Scotty always melted your heart. He never called her Scotty, always "kid" or "kiddo" or "bookworm". But the way he smiled and laughed with her. The way he let himself be tugged and guided gently around the house by her, completely at her beck and call, made your insides all warm and gooey.

He was your best friend. You knew that. You hadn't had many growing up. But he was a good listener. And a good talker too, once he got going, and felt safe enough to. You could listen to him talk for hours, and you had, day after day. Sitting in his room late at night, just listening to him talk and watching as his hands moved when he got more passionate about things.

You wanted to grab those hands sometimes. Just snatch them out of the air and hold them. Maybe press gentle kisses to his scarred knuckles and whisper how much you loved watching him talk. How much you loved listening to all the wonderfully weird ideas he had sometimes. Loved how creative he was even though he tried to hide it. You wanted to tell him how much you loved him.

But you never did. Never managed to find the courage. Just sat on his bed and watched him. Like you were watching him now. Sitting on the couch, his head moving slowly side to side as the radio played some love song. He was more a metal guy, but it didn't seem to be an issue today.

The timer ringing behind you on the island startles you out of your thoughts with a loud gasp. You huff a startled breath and grab it, twist it off, and grab the cupcakes out of the oven. Turning it off and leaving them to cool. You mix the frosting for the first batch. Cherry and chocolate. You decide you're gonna fill a few.

You work quietly, filling and frosting, humming along to each song that plays. Not really paying attention to them all that well. Your tongue sticking out as you concentrate, trying to get the little swirl in the frosting just right. You're starting on the next one when Gator speaks again, for the first time in you don't know how long.

"Do you just know every song?" He asks, you almost drop the cupcake in your hand as your back straightens at the sudden noise.

"What's that?" You ask, looking across the island at him, he's turned on the couch, head resting on the back of it, one knee pulled up onto it, and if he could see, you know he'd have been watching you this whole time.

You look at him for a moment, navy sweatpants and a soft grey shirt, his socks mismatched, like always, courtesy of Scotty, you're sure. He looks so soft, relaxed, his hair falling in his face a bit. He smiles at your question, amused that you didn't hear him through your concentration.

"The songs. You've been humming to like, all of them." He nods toward the radio as the song changes again.

"You know this one too?" He asks, lips twitching against his arm on the back of the couch, head resting there as he waits for your answer.

You let the song play a little, listening, and of course you know this song too.

"Yeees." You drawl, setting the cupcake and the frosting piper down, licking some cherry frosting off your fingers.

"Of course you do." He snorts into his arm. And you know he'd be rolling his eyes if he could.

"Oh I'm sorry. I didn't know it was illegal to enjoy music in this house." You scoff, wiping your hands on your apron and crossing your arms as you watch him smile brightly.

"It's not illegal. But jesus. Every song?" He asks, shaking his head again.

"I like music! What's wrong with that?" You ask, taking a step around the island, toward him, you feel like you're always moving toward him these days, needing to be closer.

"Nothing!" He says, laughing as he raises his hands in surrender.

"It's just- I guess I just never knew anyone who liked that many songs and different...uh... what's it called. Like different types'a music I guess." He says, his hands tucking around his leg on the couch.

"Different genres?" You ask, taking another step, the song on the radio is slow, makes you want to sway to it. You're fingers itch with need. The need to touch, and hold, and move.

"Yeah that!" He snaps his fingers, points at you. You smile. His own smile wide with excitement that you knew what he meant.

"I just like all kinds of music. Different genres have different things to offer ya know?" You say, leaning your hip against the island as you watch him nod.

"Right. Yeah. Makes sense. You like rock and stuff too?" He asks, teeth digging into his lip.

"Yep. Love it." You say, popping the p, and smiling when he smiles, the two of you mirroring each other though he doesn't know it.

"Cool. It's not really, Valentines music though I guess." He says, slowly, eyebrows scrunching as he thinks about it.

"I don't know. There's a few ballads that'd be good I think. For rock people." You shrug, push yourself off the island as the song changes yet again, another slow song, another one you know. You watch him nod again, teeth still worrying at his lip, he looks nervous. And that's what does it, for some reason.

You take your apron off and walk over to him. You watch him track your movements through sounds, "looking" up at you when you end up standing in front of him. You look down at him for a moment, watch his tongue peak out as he licks his lips.

"Gimme your hand." You say, almost whisper.

"What for?" He asks, his voice tight, he's on edge, suspicious. Your heart aches for him, and for what he's been through to cause that feeling.

"Don't your trust me?" You tease, knowing he hates pity, always. Responds better when you put a little bite into it. The teasing he's good with. He tilts his head, like he's trying to hear your intentions.

"I um... I mean yeah. I do." His hand raises off his leg a bit, but not high enough to reach yours, stopping mid air. Uncertain. You smile, reach down and take his hand carefully.

"Here. C'mon. Come with me." You give his hand a little tug and he stands. You stumble back a step at his sudden proximity and he huffs dramatically.

"Where are we going? Aren't you cookin' or somethin'?" His voice is laced with annoyance, but you know he's just nervous, worried, that you might be pranking him. And you hate that he still thinks that way. But you don't hold it against him, years in a prison hospital ingraining that feeling deep.

"I'm just frosting now. This is more important." You tell him, giving his warm hand a squeeze as you pull him toward the space between the kitchen and the living room. A nice little open space, perfect for what you need. You stop and face him, take his other hand in yours as well. You watch him swallow nervously, his fingers twitching against yours.

"What are you doing?" He asks, his voice soft, and small.

"We. Are gonna dance. If- if you want?" You ask, shoulders jumping, hands twitching nervously in his. He licks his lips, eyebrows jumping on his forehead, popping over the bandana before disappearing again.

"Dancing? Right here?" He asks, sounding unsure.

"If that's okay with you? I know all the songs remember? It's nice to dance. And not just hum along sometimes." You breath out a small, nervous laugh, you heart pounding in your chest. Hoping he doesn't push you away, or tell you it's stupid, or something else equally horrible and embarrassing. His lips twitch, just the smallest amount, but you see it.

"I don't... really know how to dance." He says, his brows furrowing again, bunching together beneath the blue bandana.

"Only time there was ever dancing was at church sometimes. And no one ever really wanted to dance with me. So I don't... sorry." The apology is automatic. A thing he does. Not as often now. But he falls back on it. When he thinks he's done something wrong. He apologizes.

"It's okay. Dancings not so hard. Here." You move his hands slowly to your waist. And then move your hands up his arms to rest on his shoulders.

"And then we just- sorta move. Just sway with the music." You say, starting to move. He moves with you, fingers pressing into your hips as he smiles at you. He tilts his head forward a few times, like he's trying to look at his feet, before he straightens back up.

"Don't know what the fuck I think I'm lookin at. Not gonna see nothin." He mutters, and you know he's talking to himself, mostly, but you laugh anyway, and it makes him smile, makes him braver.

He moves closer, arms moving around your waist, holding you close. You smile too, bite your lip and move your hands. Let them fall over his shoulders, resting your arms there instead.

"See. You're a natural." You tell him, huffing a laugh, his nose scrunches and he nods at you. You can see his cheeks flexing, like he's squeezing his eyes shut tight or blinking hard. Or trying too.

You take a deep breath and move again, press closer, settle your head on his shoulder, your nose nearly pressed against his neck. You feel him trembling against you, feel the shakey breath he takes before moving his hands up and down your back genlty.

"I'm doing okay?" He asks you after a moment, both of you swaying slowly.

"Perfect." You pull back, eyes on his face.

"You're perfect." You whisper, eyes on his mouth. And if you were braver, you'd kiss him. But the dancing seems to be where your bravery ends. You move your hand, from the air behind his head to the back of his neck, your fingers tucking into his hair there. He sighs, seems to melt into you.

"I'm really not." He says, and you can hear that self depreciation that he hides so well.

"You are to me. For me, maybe. I don't know. But I-" your breath catches in your throat. His head moves to the side, listening, always.

"You what?" He asks, and you can feel his breath on your skin you're so close now. His hand moves up your back slowly, and then up under your arm, it finds it way to your neck carefully, his thumb brushing over your jaw.

"You what?" He asks again, insistent, his head dipping closer, his hair brushing your forehead. Your fingers twitch in his hair, against his neck, you know he can feel it.

"I just. I think maybe that I-" you cut off again, take a deep, frustrated breath. He smiles then, hums a laugh.

"You love me." He says, his head moving closer, his nose brushing against your cheek. Your heart pounds, your hands have to be sweaty, and warm again his neck and shoulder where you're holding him tightly now. He doesn't seem to mind.

"Wha- I didn't- I mean i'm-"

"You love me." He says again, cutting you off. And he's, oh you know that look, he's smug now. Lips twitching up at the corner, his thumb moves over your jaw as he smiles.

"Well you love me too." You huff, brows crinkling as you frown at him. A laugh bursts out of him. His arm still around your waist tugs you closer, you're chest to chest now and there's no way he can't feel how fast your heart is beating. He's still smiling, and now he's nodding.

"Yeah. I do. I do love you." He whispers into the the small space between you.

"I know. I- I love you too." You say, softer now, watching his face, that warm smile fading to something else. A look of concentration moving over his features.

"What? What's wrong?" You ask, your hand moving to his forehead, fingers pressing into the crease between his brows, soothing it. He softens under your touch, leans into it when your hand moves to his cheek. He shakes his head, once.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, so soft, so earnest. You nod. Forgetting he can't see you, rolling your eyes at yourself.

"You just said you love me and you're asking if you can kiss me?" You breathe, a giddy laugh punching out of you. He shrugs, nods.

"Yeah. Asking for permission's always good right? Or does it- does it ruin the moment?" He asks, face going serious again. You bite your lip, move your hand further into his hair and smile when he sighs at the touch again.

"It doesn't ruin the moment. Just makes it better. I think." You tell him, curling your fingers in his hair.

"Good. I'm glad I didn't ruin it." His voice is thick with emotion, and your chest aches as his hand moves from your neck to your mouth. His fingertips moving gently over your lips, his thumb following them, you press your lips into his thumb and watch him smile as he leans closer, his thumb moving away the second before his lips touch yours

It's just a soft kiss. A sweet, warm press of lips against yours. Gentle and full of care. And it's everything.

His hand on your back pulls you closer and you gasp, he smiles against your lips and then his tongue hits your bottom lip, moving genlty, asking for permission. You sigh into his mouth and press closer, letting him in. His hand finds your hair, fingers moving against your scalp softly before his fingers get tangled and he groans into your mouth. You laugh into his and then you're pulling apart, reaching back to untangle him as you both laugh.

His head falls to your shoulder once you free his hand and he groans again.

"Sorry." He moans, you rub his back and pull him close, swaying from side to side again as you hold him.

"It's okay. It was funny. Kind of perfectly us." You sooth. And then he's standing straight again, his hand finding your face slowly, thumb settling at the corner of your mouth, like a guide in case he needs it again.

"You taste good." He says, like that's a normal thing to say, like it didn't just make your knees weak.

"Um... I do?" Your nose scrunches, doubting him.

"Mhm." He hums, dips forward, presses his lips to yours again and pulls back.

"Like cherry frosting." He says, smiling again, thumb moving across your lips.

"Oh. Yeah. That makes sense." You nod, your voice a little higher than normal. He nods, presses his forehead against yours, stays there.

"Need any company while you frost the rest of them?" He asks, his voice soft between you.

"I'd love some." You nod, take his hand in yours and guide him towards the kitchen.

"You'd love some. More or less, than you love me?" He teases as you park him next to where you were working. You groan at his question, pushing your hand against the smug look on his face.

"Oh. More and more as we speak." You tease as he laughs and swats your hand away. You swat back at him and he catches your hand easily, sight or no, his reflexes are great, and fast, he tugs you to his chest, hand wrapped around your wrist.

"If I stop talking. You'll love me more?" He asks, his voice pitched low as he snakes his other arm around your waist. You shake your head, dip your free hand into the frosting, two fingers covered in chocolate.

"Don't ever stop talking." You say, moving your hand slowly, so he doesn't clock the movement.

"And I don't think I could love you more than I already do." You say, sweetly. He smiles, starts to lean in for a kiss and you smear the frosting across his cheek. His mouth drops open as he freezes.

"Oooh my god. What did you just do to my face?" He asks, sounding the most offended anyone has ever sounded. You snort, grab at his neck when both his hands let you go, held up in the air by his shoulders.

"Made it better." You say, pulling him toward you and licking the frosting off his face. He makes a strangled sound in his throat and you smile and shove gently at his chest as he grabs for you.

"Now behave. I have to get them finished before everyone gets home." He pouts dramatically, and sighs. But he stays back, and you watch him bring his fingers to his cheek where you licked him. Just a press of fingers before he sniffs, realizing you can see him, and drops his hands again.

"Here. This is for you." You take one of the cupcakes your frosted earlier and place it in his open waiting hand.

He peels the paper off genlty, feels for a spot on the island and sets it down before taking a big bite. There's frosting on his nose but you can't even focus on that because he moans so loudly as he chews you feel your cheeks flush.

"Jesus." You mutter. And he smirks at you.

"Asshole." You grumble, smiling when he laughs around a mouthful of cupcake, his lips covered in crumbs and brown and pink frosting. You can't help yourself, you grab his shirt and tug him into a kiss. The little surprised noise that catches in his throat is the best sound you'd ever heard.

"Now you taste like frosting." You say agaisnt his lips.

"You callin me sweet?" He teases, licking at the frosting on his lips, you bring your hand up and wipe at some with your thumb.

"I'll call you whatever you want." You say, licking your thumb clean. He leans into you then, nuzzles into your neck.

"Promise?" He whispers into your skin, his arm circling you again and tugging you close. Your move your fingers through his hair, press a kiss to his head.

"Promise." You whisper back, smiling when he hums into your shoulder and rocks the both of you back and forth gently.

You finish the cupcakes with him by your side, both of you humming and singing along with the songs that come on. You get them moved to the table, setting them out in a heart before Gator drags you away to sit on the couch, his arms around you as you watch a movie, describing what's happening for him. You lie a few times, just to make him laugh. And he does, he buries his face in your neck and laughs and holds you tighter when you tell him what really happened.

Dot and Wayne come home and find you alseep on the couch, wrapped up in each other. Holding each other and snuggled close, safe on their couch. In their house. Together. Both of them smiling as Wayne lays a blanket over you before they head upstairs.

"I knew they'd figure it out." Dot says, smiling as they crawl into bed. Wayne shakes his head as he tugs the covers up.

"I did too ya know. Just don't know how you always know exactly when these things are gonna happen hun. It's like a sixth sense with you or somethin." He clicks off the lights and Dot curls into his side.

"It's holiday magic that's all." She sighs, cuddling closer.

"Oh. And you owe me and Scotty twenty bucks." She tugs him closer, smiling into his chest as he laughs and holds her close.

Tag list ( do i do those? Not usually but i got peeps that need to see it 🤣🤣): @jozstankovich @friendly-jester

#gator tillman #gator tillman x reader #gator tillman x you #gator tillman fic #gator tillman x gn reader #mine #my writing #my fic

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ginhaku125 · 8 months

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What Your Favourite Pokémon Masters EX Ship Says About You!

Side note: I literally don't care what you ship unless it's illegal, I just made this for funsies. Also I'm not allowed to judge you because I shipped Lear x Bettie when I was 11 (I don't anymore though don't worry)

Scottie x Bettie - You're one of the only people who don't headcanon them as twins or siblings which…good for you, just watch out for the 95.5% of the fandom who does

Scottie/Bettie x Paulo - You probably have about five other MC x Rival ships, and depending which MC you ship with Paulo, they're either incredibly gay or incredibly straight

Scottie/Bettie x Tina - Three things: Either you shipped Bettie x Rosa before Tina was officially added to the game, you ship people who have the same energy or you want Paulo to suffer like the majority of the fandom already does

Scottie/Bettie x Lear - Same joke as with Paulo, except you probably ship at least one MC x adult ship and/or ferriswheelshipping and I'm calling the police on you. (IT'S JUST A PHASE YOU'LL GROW OUT OF IT TRUST ME)

Paulo x Tina - You are a sucker for the "childhood friends to lovers" cliché and you're in denial because Tina is a lesbian

Lear x Rachel - You are a sucker for the "childhood friends to lovers" cliché. You also started shipping them because you played Rachel's Sync Pair Story and read her dialogue in the Pokémon Center when you scouted her. You could of sworn she was older than Lear but you went "eh, sod it" and shipped them anyway

Lear x Sawyer - You took that one conversation between Rachel and Sawyer a bit too seriously.

I'm also calling the police on you.

Rachel x Sawyer - You're me. Also can we be friends if you ship this I really need more fanworks of this ship or I WILL go insane

Scottie/Bettie x Paulo x Tina - You're bisexual. I'm sorry I couldn't think of a proper joke you're just bisexual now welcome to the club.

Lear x Rachel x Sawyer - You don't understand why Rachel and Sawyer keep fighting over who cares for Lear the most when Lear has two hands. Also I've never met someone who ships this so I don't even know why this was added

Bonus:

Lear x Cheren - You are literally every Lear fan I have ever met except for, like, 2 people. One of them being myself.

And for all of you asking "where's the Bellis ships?" "Where's the Pokémon Center trio ships?" I've never seen anyone care enough to ship Bellis let alone the Pokémon Center Trio with anyone and honestly, they probably didn't even cross half of you guys' minds when you read this post so I think that just about explains it.

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muffindaddystyles · 3 years

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Hates to, Hate you.

Word Count: 8k

Summary: Harry realizes that hurting Y/N broke him into pieces and tries to win her back with the confession of true feelings, will Y/N let him? If yes, how? How will he walk through fire for her?

Pairing: Famous!Harry x Reader!with anxiety.

AU: fake dating, slow burn, sexual tension, enemies to lover!

Warning: Mentions of violence, sexual assault, language, adult topics.

PART 1, MASTERLIST

"Please, stop." He says dolefully rubbing his eyebrows to get rid of the ache pounding in his head.

He's miserable. It hurts to not have her with him. It's been two tragic months of going through constant sleepless nights, disrestless stomach, intoxicating himself to forget her, staring at things like a hawk and missing her terribly.

He was alone before her and never felt this lonely.

He sees her everywhere. In his dreams and her shadows in his drawing room getting excited over a ceramic vase someone gifted him. Dancing in his kitchen to the beat of pink floyd and hip-checking him for a cheerful nudge, in his back garden rescuing a sparrow who broke it's neck and in his attic stressing over her assignments.

Everything reminds him of her. The fruity drinks that the barista's handing to the people, the fairy lights upon their heads and how she used to fond over them —- buying it for his bedroom too and when he refused to hang them, she just brushed off his snarky comment and did it herself.

The ring in Harris finger floods back all the bitter-sweet memories of the time he refused to have a lil fun with her, (Y/N and Harris made friendship rings and bracelets for eachother with the colorful beads to spend their boring time in his home waiting for him to write some lines before they went to a gumball shop) as they try to knock some senses in their friend's brain, "You tried to dodge a heartbreak and still ended up shattering your heart, yourself." They worry about him. That he's been bearing the pain all alone and not sharing it with anyone.

His voice croak-y and hoarse, "How's she?" The question haunts him. She blocked his phone number and even in the wee hours of night he wrecks his mind whether he should call her or not, he couldn't because she doesn't want to hear his voice.

He misses her voice. He misses her complaints and whines as if they filled the stoic parts of his life with happiness.

"How'd I know?" Harris lowers down to rest their elbows on the table, "I -- I thought . . she isn't in contact with ye'?" When Harris shakes their head with a gesture that he's being truthful it sinks his heart furthermore.

He clears his throat, twisting the jewels on his hand and sucks his bottom lip to muster some courage, "I've been seeing someone." Harris chokes on the boba they were chewing on for so long, "You what?" They are completely perturbed at his statement. Even though they've been working together and been friends before Y/N came in the picture, she's still their bezzy and we don't betray our bezzies like that.

"Yeah, someone to help me sort me feelings out." Harry frowns confusedly and then realization washes upon him so he becomes frantic in his chair, "No . . not what you're thinkin'." He runs his fingers through his hair to subside the twitch in them.

"A therapist, 'm talkin' bout a therapist . ." He sighs watching his tea waft down sympathetically.

"Oh. That's a good start, Harry!" Harris tries to bring the same dimply boyish smile that used to flutter over his lips whenever she used to tease him, unfortunately it never appears.

Y/N didn't handle her first ever heartbreak well. She lost her appetite, her focus on her studies and to her surprise didn't shed a single tear –-- it just kept piling in her chest and she waited for the moment it'd burst until she saw those pictures plastered all over social media. Pictures of him with some model that isn't a shorty pants like her at all, totally how those ladies described his type to be and someone with whom he wouldn't be embarrassed to hang out with.

She's everything, Y/N's jealous of. Those sparkling blue eyes compared to her boring brown ones, handsome figure and the radiance of richness.

Then she got stuck into her life responsibilities and worried about other things such that; she wasn't able to pay any bills and her flat's rent despite doing two part time jobs along with doing her class-fellows assignments in return of money and still got kicked out of it. Her close friend offered her to live in her studio and she has made it her kitchen, study, sleeping room with her stuff and clothes scattered everywhere.

She lives on noodles and toasted breads sometimes treating herself with delights of kit-kat bars in the middle of nights.

Watches her friend do her work and leave when the night comes by —- she has never felt this lonely in her entire life.

"So, was it love at first sight?" Nora her friend asks, handing her cuppa tea and a scone. Y/N let a weak sad smile slip, shaking her head and reminiscing all those moments where she was falling in love with him without even realizing, "Falling in love slowly patiently is the most beautiful . . . at some time I used to loathe his existence but staying with him and after knowing him, it was like --— an escapeless tunnel. I didn't realize it, till one day I woke up and my heart saw him in a different light, where I wanted to give him all me lovin' but he wasn't ready for it." She shrugs sipping the hot beverage and doesn't flinch from the burn that tingles at the tip of her tongue.

When she put her cup aside Nora takes her hand assuring her sweetly, "You'll have that person soon -- he's just on his way, with a big bouquet of roses and a teddy bear to give you the lovin' you deserve." Y/N giggles at that waving her off and not showing how her person is still Harry. What does she do to forget him? To fool her in thinking he isn't her first love.

"Aish, Nora aren't you gettin' late? Gooo." She had some clients to meet before she stopped here at studio to grab some things but it turned into a girlie hangout, "Take care honey and don't forget to put a bucket there." She points to the corner where water's dripping from the rooftop and Y/N exhaled an exasperated sigh of breath when the door clicks leaving her alone yet again.

It was past twelve and when usually she pulls an all nighter to study -- today she decided to sleep early. Her bad habit of overthinking kicks in again, this time it's not over some silly thing but she ponders over where she went wrong? She should've kept her feelings to herself and atleast would have been sleeping in her bed cuddled with her chonky cat Zippy.

She misses Zippy badly.

A noise of door unlocking loudly drags her from her reverie and her heart pounds against her ribcage ready to break it. Who could be at this hour of night? It could be Nora since she's the only one who got keys to the place.

Sitting up quickly she squints against the blinding lights and watches someone's boot stepping over her blanket that flopped onto the floor from the sofa she's sleeping on.

"Kevin? What are you doing here?" He's Nora's boyfriend and her classfellow. He just shrugs tumbling his way towards the sofa and she tries to scoot back from him as much as possible, "I'm here to see you. . ." He slurs. It knocks her breath out, filling terror in her veins as the heels of her feet rub against the leather of the couch in her effort to be away from him.

"What? This's not appropriate I -- I . . suggest you to call Nora s –- so, what're you doin —-" She squeaks in fear sinking into the couch when he towers over her and traps her under him with his hands on either side of her body aggressively, "I like you. Why don't you get it!!" She flinches when he shouts angrily with bloodshot eyes and the smell of alcohol disgusts her springing tears in her eyes.

"Please, stop . . ." She whispers with silent tears running down her throat using all her strength to push at his shoulders but he grips her hips tightly and yanks at her sleeping shirt revealing the strap of her bralette. She couldn't even cry for help. It's useless so putting some belief in herself for the last time she uses all her power and kicks him in his crotch pushing him roughly on the floor.

His nails tear at her delicate skin but she doesn't care before running out of the studio ignoring the names he's calling her from behind.

She runs away, away and away. Not thinking twice where she's going before crossing the bridges and tunnels. It feels like her ears are bleeding with the echo of loud horns of traffic and the hopelessness of her life makes her fall on her knees. She cries all the tears she was bottling up for months feeling like she's running out of time and reaching dangerously near to her end.

She's been in the same neighbourhood she's been before many times. The chilly wind doesn't prick goosebumps over her skin, the night's darkness doesn't scare her and the stray dog that's barking somewhere in far doesn't affect her at all as she stares at the door from where she has stepped into her comfort space many times.

Harry's with Scottie. His childhood friend who's here in London for some shoot. They were lounged in the living room talking their hearts out and their cringey memories from when they were small when he halted mid-talk, jaw slacking when his eyes took the sight of someone standing at his main door from the multiple security screens appearing on the telly.

He doesn't believe at first. Thinking he's hallucinating and that maybe he just saw a flicker of a ghost but when she looks up revealing her sad face and those big brown eyes he rushes to open the door.

"Fuck." He breathes out working on the heavy cold locks of the oak door with shaky hands anxiously and she was about to walk away with her back turned to him when he spurts out her name in haste, "Y/N." She listens to him. Insides breaking with the nirvana and scent of him surrounding her.

His breath hitches in his throat when she spins to meet his apprehensive gaze and she doesn't give him a chance to have a proper look at her before falling in his arms, her head hitting his chest and body shaking vigorously as she sobs sadly.

"Darlin'?" He asks worriedly, slipping his arms around her shoulders to lull her in his embrace, "Are you oka?" He feels like his stomach ate his heart as he anticipates an explanation from her and she isn't doing anything but crying.

"You're scarin' me, pet. What happened honey?" He pulls away to cradle her face in his calloused palms. His chests pangs with hurt and remorse upon seeing her tear stained cheeks, wobbly blue lips, and disheveled state.

He steps inside with her still in his arms and rubs his hand down her spine to calm her down as little sad sniffles and hiccups keep slipping out of her mouth.

He sits her on the sofa squatting down infront of her and Scottie brings her water. When she refuses to drink it because Harry strokes his thumb against the apple of her cheek, "Shh, 's okay . . you're okay. You're with me now, sweet girl." It's like the world and anything else has blurred around him and his ever priority's focusing on her only. His observant gaze dawdles from her face to her bruised shoulder emitting an afflicted gasp of trepidity from between his lips and it deepens to a growl when it fell over her hip-bone where the fabric of her pyjama's spotted with blood.

He glances up at Scottie who gives him a knowing look of horror. He gets closer to her and she doesn't retract as his thumb streaks away the blood oozing from her shoulder gently, saying nothing as he examines it.

After a brief pause Y/N's heart skips a nervous beat when he tilts her chin to have a better look at her face, taking in the evidence of someone handling his petal so brutally it left scratches at her face.

Harry looks her dead in the eyes. His anger barely restrained tippling from the pot ready to leave burns, his voice is tense and quite, ears heating with wrath.

"Who did this to you?"

"Kevin." The tears are back at her waterline more concerned that he's panicking because of her and Scottie sits beside her massaging her shoulders.

"Kevin, who?" Harry's question is curt controlling himself from finding this mother fucker himself and beat the shit out of him, "H -- he's my friend's boyfriend, I though --– was sleeping in her studio 'n 'n --- when he . . . he —-- " She hides her face in her palms unable to speak but Harry quickly pulls her down in a comforting hug whispering sweet things to stop her crying.

She parts from him with puffy eyes and swollen lips shaking her head at her stupidity, "I … I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here, 'm gonna leave — ' " She's a weeping blubbering mess trying to stand up on her jello legs with the help of the couch's armrest.

He catches her wrist crying out, "No! Don't! please, please stay . . . . fo' me?" Scottie has never seen him like this. Bended out of shape for a person, begging them on his knees to protect them as he rambles loudly.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden on you, I -- I'll go in the morning." Since she has nowhere to go it's better she sleeps here for a night instead of on the streets.

Harry finds it ironic. That once he didn't want her overnights now he wants her all days and weeks, perhaps till the end of his life.

He's gonna win her back.

He hands her his tattered comfy sleeping clothes and the spare toothbrush leaving her to it. When he comes back downstairs Scottie's waiting for him at the main door.

"You should report a file against that bastard the first thing in the morning." Scottie tells him seriously and he nods. His head snaps when she spoke softly, smiling at him, "You're in love."

"What?"

"I haven't seen you like that with anyone, Harry. Make it to her foolish boi -- tell her what you feel." She laughs, jolting him with his shoulders and he smiles timidly bidding her a good-bye.

The door to her room's ajar opened as he peeks inside to make sure she's okay and sighs deeply when finds her staring blankly at the ceiling. The floorboard creaks when he pads inside quietly and her stare diverts to him while he stands on the foot of bed, "I read somewhere that cuddlin' helps ye'sleep better, you w'na try?" She hums in return, fisting the duvet under her chin and slip shuts her eyes remaining stiff in her spot when he slides under the duvet closer to her.

She turns into a puddle when his long arms wrap around her tummy, "Is this okay?" His voice a mere whisper of care earning an honest nod from her -- his thigh strings over her legs to cocoon her in his warmth completely, ". . and this?" She again nod at him so,

He smushes his cheek into the crook of her neck and she could feel something moist on her skin while his lips puckered to speak, "Y/N?" He murmures broken and sad snuggling more into her.

"Hmm?" She hums, the exhaustion from walking and crying this much forcing her to sleep, "I've missed you, terribly." Her heart leaps and she wants to exchange the familiarity of emotions but her tongue remains heavy in her mouth.

Her toes curls and fingers clutches the wrinkly fabric of the pillow case she had her head rested on but now it's slipping down from over it due to her body shaking vigorously as she tries to escape those filthy, gruesome hands like a terrifying shadows of evil choking her throat and sucking the life out of her.

Harry's head snaps down to where she was snuggled to his side moments ago when she murmur-yells no,no,no,no'. He feels like someone placed a heavy brick over his chest at the sight of his lovie writhing like a leaf petrified of whatever she's dreaming of and his shoulders rolls back while he perches on his elbow to shake her gently out of it.

"Y/N . . ." He remains dulcet. Chewing onto his already swollen bottom lip since he didn't even close his eyes the entire night manipulating the plush flesh, he doesn't know what kept him awake —- but it sure was this sense of responsibility to make her feel protected under his wings. She smacks his arm away pushing at his chest with her all might to skid away to the edge of the bed in her sleepy state, so he quickly hunches on wobbly knees to catch her before she falls.

"It's just me, Angel, Harry –- wake up darlin'," His heart beating ominously frantic and head jumbling with horrible thoughts of what she's going through as her warmed up cheeks soak with tears, he has never seen her like this, he never wanted to see her for the first time after months like this --- shattered to pieces and drained of her energy.

He smooths his thumb to caress her cheek slightly and swipe those sad tears away. She wakes up with a gasp making him jerk his chin back, blinking rapidly to confirm her surroundings and her fearful vision zeros to his panicked features. She places her palms against his pectorals to make sure he's real and there and that ugly nightmare just ended, "Harry?" He gulps the thick web of tears down his throat and bobs his head.

"Yes, sweet girl, Harry . . ." The very streaks of golden rays sneak through the curtains and dances between their faces as she fists the hem of his shirt, "It was just a nightmare." He assures her running his hand up and down her arms to calm her down.

"Don't be afraid, dovie' won't let anybody hurt ya from now on, g'na protect you —--" It was the last straw for her before she flipped him over and climbed out of his bed to get out from his room.

"Shit." He drives into a state of frenzy following her down the stairs like a puppy almost missing a step or two as she wears the slippers she came in last night, "Where ye' goin'?" His muscles twitch in a hurry to make his next move and save whatever's between them that's keeping him sane, " Dunno, away from you." She shrugs, lost in her own fog and the sting in his heart's unbearable with the inflammation of hurt.

"Why?" He tumbles through the last step and infront of her, eyes bloodshot and heart how from the squeezing agony of loosing her for second time for the same cause.

"Because, I w'na forget about you!!" The scream she had in her lungs to convey her anger gets stuck in her throat. His shoulders slump from the burden of guilt and regret.

"Why?" He feels like throwing up with the unbearable anguish of him hurting to a point he wants to wash his memories out of her mind.

"Because you make me so confused, Harry…" Her face pinches into an exasperated expression of hopelessness while she nudges him aside to pass by him and to the main door but he catches her wrist before she could step outside and never come back to him, "I wouldn't confuse you from now on …. 've been better fo' you y/n, 'cos I want you to know that I'm yours." His confession springes her off guard by pure stupefaction and when she looks at him -- he's already gazing at her as if she's the moon surrounded by singing stars.

"Please, let me fight for you baby." Tears springs at his waterline ready to welcome a sob out of his lungs. Because he knows he'll be unable to live his life without her, his love will rot in the cage of his heart because he'd never be able to express it for anyone except her.

He continues not holding back anything from her instead unlocking another love language and that's being vulnerable and completely defenceless to her, "While being with you I still thought a part of me was in love with my ex and I didn't want ya to be me second priority, could neve', was so so wrong 'cos even though you're not my firsts you're gonna be my lasts. I'll make sure that you're." He gulps down the tears blocking his wind pipes and making it difficult to speak.

"I want you to give us another chance, to forgive me and give me a proper chance to love you 'cos that's what you deserve . .." The sincerity and genuineness in his stained smaragdine irises turns her pudgy in his hold, ". . . you deserve all the lovin' in this world, honey."

"Work for it then." She tells him and his pretty eyes widen adorably as of some golden fish, a vivacious smile adorns his features and he doesn't take a moment before swiping her off her feet and into his arms to hug her tightly.

His insides feels like nourishing after a time with contentment and satisfaction.

To have his loved one in his arms.

In his life.

"Thank you, Thank you, Thank youuu." He rambles into the crook of her neck, elated and joyful. Swaying their bodies together and making her smile softly after a prolonged time of suffering.

She'll heal.

He'll make sure to put ointment of affection and love on her wounds to help her heal, for herself but nobody else.

"You've got to be kidding me!" She mutters putting the alcohol swab on his torn bleeding knuckles and he squeaks locking his calf around her ankle, "Ouch! Ye' mad woman."

Harry and her went to file a report against Kevin, along with Nora who became her witness because she despises that disgusting of a man to be even around her and her studio let alone her boyfriend.

Harry was her biggest support through the whole process and dropped her off assuring her he'll pick all her stuff from Nora's place. There he was, Kevin. Stumbling at the footpath after Nora kicked him and his luggage out.

Harry's very patient and optimistic but not when his loved ones get hurt. He didn't know what was happening around him before he sprinted towards Kevin and punched him square in his face, breaking his nose and busting his own knuckles with a fierce shout of "y'son of a bastard!"

"If I ever . . . ever see ya near her, I promise that you wouldn't be able to see the living daylight." He grunted, resisting to hit him in the shin with his boots and walked past him to the studio to collect her stuff.

He was grief stricken seeing the way she had to live and not finding her pet cat anywhere. His heart could be heard cracking into tinytinytiny pieces when Nora told him that Y/N gave it to the vet since she was unable to afford it.

When she catches him staring up at her like a love-stricken puppy she huffs wrapping a band-aid around his knuckles, "'M mad at you." He seems unfazed making her gasp when brings her closer with his legs wrapped around her's, "Why . . . you're always mad at me." He whines jutting out his bottom lip and she shakes her head at his silly dotiness.

"You -– you can't go hurtin' yourself fo' me, H." She's very unaware, because certainly he'd do it as many times.

She narrows down her eyes to squint him in offense when he brushes her comment off with nonchalance and raises his bandaged wrist up to her face, "Will you kiss it better' fo' me, pet?" Her insides crumbles like dry rose petals falling from a beloved book of her favourite romances.

"Hmm?" He nudges it in a questioning suppressing a smirk. She wipes her clammy and antiseptic hands down her trousers not meeting his gaze while taking his hand awkwardly but delicately closer to where her soft mouth is located; she halts glowering at him, "Only if you ask nicely."

"That wasn't nice? Thought I was being a good boy there." He mumbles diligently pulling at the hem of her shirt and she bites down a smile, fingers still wrapped round his wrist.

"Pretty please…?" He wheezes his words out begging-ly -- upper lip curving, pupils dilating and she shrugs, "..if you insist so.." His grin was immaculate that of golden sun when she pressed her lips to his knuckles carefully giving it a gentle pat afterward.

"Not doing that again." She breathes out the air she was winding up inside her for so long. Spinning on her heels to turn her back towards him and put the first aid back under the sink, "We'll see 'bout that, let's do some grocery." He stands up patting his thighs loudly, "Wouldn't be surprised if we'll find bugs in me cabinet instead of goodies."

They've been roaming isles for an hour now and they always end up fighting who will push it. Harry doesn't let her because she keeps on filling it with instant noodles, chocolate bars and sakurai oreos.

"How about we try to live till our fifties wouldn't be that beautiful?" He follows behind her closely. His chest brushes against her shoulders everytime she makes a stop to cooes over some brightly coloured food and candies, "'M trying to make it till next year, dunno 'bout you." She mutters grumpy-ly tossing another packet of cherry lollipop inside the trolley.

He puts it back.

With a strict warning glare to her way.

"I want you to stay healthy." He says sternly glaring up at her from his ducked position. She tosses the lollipop back from the shelf, "'M paying for my things." She dismisses him off panning deadly.

"Fo' fucks sake, 's not 'bout money!" He grits annoyed at her stubbornness and she arches her brow leaning against the trolley, "Harry…'m not an actress or some high-paid model. Lemme enjoy real things, okay? Or just say you'd look too outta my league standing next to me." Her brows pints down into a frown and her shoulder slumps with her body further relaxing against the trolley.

She's up for a debate with him right in the middle of the junk food aisle if that's the case.

"See. That's why I don't want to be married!" A couple from far banters off in astonishment catching Y/N completely off guard.

"Uh-ah!" She yelps getting startled from the boom of interruption and a high-pitch squeaks leaves out of her petite lungs when the trolley rolls from under her perched elbow making her stumble for a nice trip but the bang never came as Harry coiled his arm around her waist to pull her on stable feet with a firm hand over her smallest of back.

His gentle pupils flicker between her frenzied one's, noses tickling and teasing each other with each spurt of breath that rushes out of her parted soft mouth and against his cheek.

"Maybe it's not that bad after all." The couple who were planning their future based on another couple, who's not even a couple yet but trying to work on it with their shared amount of affection; sighs in awement leaving Harry and Y/N in their own bubble.

He takes her by the elbow and helps her with his lips thinned, "Careful there." His mumble is deep and coherent husk.

She didn't whine about his green vegetables, boring low fat cheese and planned meals, celery or whatever that shit is, after that. Walking by his side like a kid who just got relief from his time out punishment.

While on the counter she asked him politely rather than biting his head of, "Lemme pay please. I'm already imposing on you by staying at your place." She knows that he wouldn't let her. Harry wants to take care of her -- in every way. He just hopes she warms up to him slowly that there will be a day she thinks of his home as hers too, oh how the table turns!

T'not make her think that his love for her is only restrictive to materialistic things he lets her pay --- but for half of it.

"D'ya got a change, miss?" The cashier asks her and she cranes her neck up to him. He denies waving his credit card with a disappointed expression so she quickly takes a chewing gum from the racks beside in return for the change.

He stops in his tracks. Watching her with glinting eyes more like fawning at her when she sways on her feet happily swinging the bag in her hold side by side.

"C'mon Harry!" She grins twiddling her fingers in a gesture to usher him where she's standing beside his car, "Yup. On your command, darlin'." He shakes his head. To fetch himself from the fond-land he always enters with anything she does.

There's a low hum of telly buzzing in the room as they sit crossed legs on the coffee rug with their knees brushing if any of them moves their bum a tad, while they slurp onto the remaining soup in the noodles cup.

This whole time he wanted to say something, to talk to her, his heart out and make it a domestic routine of sharing stuff while they eat comfy in eachother's presence but seems like his tongue betrays him everytime and his needy eyes always want to admire her and the little things she does.

He licks his lips, nodding profusely when she asks for his cup and chopsticks to take to the kitchen. A huge sigh of relief vanishes out from his chest when she disappears inside giving him time to re-collect himself, he rummages through the bag to take out the chewing gum they bought at the last moment.

He rips the packet with his teeth but it remains pressed there between his morals when he senses the familiarity of the foil --- she bought a fucking condom out of accident!

At the same moment she pads outside halting in her tracks infront of him with a horrendous expression as her peepers wouldn't stop blinking. He doesn't not know what got into him but he throws it her way as if he's utterly disgusted by it.

Sinks into the couch and refuses to meet her gaze. She throws it back at him, "I don't want it, keep it you might need it." There he goes. The smugness fuels back as he outstretches his arm over the back of the couch and man-spreads scrutinizing the way her eyes linger at his meaty thighs before flicking them away with a nervous gulp.

"You've already planned it all out, hun?" He smirks rubbing the belly of his nose with his pinky's knuckle and she folds her elbows under her breasts shaking her head at his teasing, "Yeah planning to . . . murder you t'night." She laughs out evilly when his eyes widen comically.

"Hmm. I see. Didn't know ye' were this kinky 'n naughty." She rolls her eyes at his edgy nip. She wouldn't admit it but him testing her patience turns her hot and flustered.

"Night, H." She yawns and his heart grows ten times bigger at the softness of her appearance. She cranes her head against her shoulder to look at him from the spot she's standing at when his voice calls for her, "Y/N!? Ye'really into knives? In the bed I mean." His grin mischievous knowing fully well what he's doing to her as he waits for her answer propped on his knees.

She slams the door at his face and he plops back into the sofa with a pouty victorious smile.

Harry didn't realise that in the middle of watching Gilmore Girls on the telly he fell asleep straining his neck from keeping it in a weird angle, his arms hugging the pillow and feet dangling adorably nowhere. He groans knuckling away the sleep and tries to wake up when he heard a feeble noise of someone taking his name until he looks up and finds Y/N towering him with her fluffy cream blanket pinched around her head darlingly.

"What happened, pet? Y'okay!?" He gasps trying to sit up and take her precious face to inspect her properly but she shakes her head and lays him back gently.

Her nose runny and cheeks rosied as she asks for a favour from him, "Can I -- um," She wipes her nose with the sleeve of her sweater paw. He doesn't question her further and opens his long arms to welcome her for a warm embrace.

"C'mere, pet." His whisper delicate to her.

She lies down pressed to his front resting her head on his sprawled arm and scooches herself closer to him smiling shyly against his hoodie where a Harry is embroidered in pink thread. It's like a gust of fresh spring and dew of nighty mountains as Harry takes a relaxing breather snuggling her impossibly affectionately close to himself, petting down her sweet smelling hair.

"Y'can talk to me 'bout anythin'." Their heart-beats in sync as he keeps his palm spread at her back to protect her from falling, "Ye' know that right?" He pulls back to cradle her chin between his fingers and look her in eyes sincerely.

"I know that button. Sleep for now, hmm?" He smiles softly, shutting his eyes from giving out how much a mere love name's enough to fuse him into a cloud of giddiness.

In the morning though, Harry's a small spoon and Y/N a big one. Her limbs trying to latch to his body in every way possible with her cheek smashed against his shoulder blade.

His lips quirks up into a lazy loopy smile full of contentment and peacefulness as he weaves his each finger into her's to bring her knuckles to his mouth and smother it in kisses, "Rise n' shine you furball." He rasps. chin doubling adorably as he tries to look at his squirmy girl.

He turns to face her side, temples touching and lips hovering over eachother's skin. He feels her smiling against his chin as she cuddles up into him, "I'd like to make you a brekkie…." She murmurs playing with baby curls on the nape of his neck.

"Dunno 'bout that. What if you poison me, t'death?" He giggles and she smacks his belly pouting grumpy-ly.

"Offer, expired. no more brekkie for you." She tells him wiggling out of his grip and walks towards kitchen but burst into gleeful laugh when he wraps around her calves like a koala bear, "Was jokinnnn', babe." He emphasizes his words with a twinge of whine and she meanders her hand in his ruffled curls.

"Kay! Kay! But, I could only make you omelette and sour bread." He jumps back on his feet enthusiastically looping his arm around her clavicles, "No problem. Glad t'eat anythin' made from your lovely hands."

She made him brekkie and he made fabulous peach tea for them. She blabbered off and he listened with careful ears. He praised her with glinting proud eyes and she treasured these praises in her heart.

While she chewed slowly he messaged his manager that he couldn't come to any working place for a week or so. He wants to make it special and memorable for them, their honeymoon phase.

"D'ya have any class today?" He asks her leaning towards her atop the counter, "Nope 's Saturday dummy." She chuckles flicking her thumb against his forehead and he gives a dimpled grin with bolted shut eyes.

"Yeah … silly me."

"Why?"

"So that I could take ye' ona date." His inners bouncing desperate to know her answer, "Me?" She points at herself surprised with parted lips.

"Yes you, is there somebody else sitting with us? Hello?" He calls for that non-existent person and she suckles her bottom lip to subside her squeals down. She breathes out, "Some ghostie? Evil spirit? Jesus himself —-" She cuts his banter of. With a light slap to the back of his hand.

"Okay." She says with an excited shake of head happiness bare in her words and Harry literally slips from his seat padding towards her in haste, "I'd love to." She confirms with a sweet smile and he hooks his nimble finger around her jeans loop to pull her closer to him for a fervid emotional hug.

She was a frolic mess in her room trying out her outfits and fitting into her skirts, trousers anything that could match perfectly. Deciding to terminate any ideas to wear cotton floral sun-dresses instead ends up tucking a baby pink sweater into her chequered white and black plaid trouser along with a pair of Mary Janes booties.

She took huge puffs of breath to calm her wild heart down when the knock on her door appeared. He decided to be a full on romantic today doing all the date rituals without any shame dressing up in a silk shirt three shades lighter than her's, with a pussy bow around his neck and she thinks she couldn't be more in love with him as he has a bunch of sunflowers and jasmines in the cracks of his jewels adorned fingers.

"Well, well, well, Look who came to their enemy's door holding presents." She smirks and he scowls, "Oh cut it. 'M here to pick y'up fo' our date."

What makes her lose her mind's Zippy on his shoulder.

"Oh my goodness! Harry!" She leaps towards him and takes her fluffy beast in her arms and showers Zippy's crown with many many kisses, "Thank you!" She cries out joyfully wrapping her free arm around his waist and cuddles him for dear life.

"I lo —-- " She thinks it'd be embarrassing to say it on the first date and Harry almost had a mini heart-attack but she changed her words, "I can't be more grateful to you, thank you so much."

"Now, stop thankin' me hunny." He gives her the flowers he plucked himself from his backyard and kisses the apple of her cheek turning her into a gooey mesh.

"Where is it?" She avoids checking him out.

"Why should I tell ya?" He nudges her to lock her elbow around his and she gazes up at him with loving eyes, "'cos 'm your date that's why."

"Bribe me then." He grins bashfully.

"Harry!!" She gasps and huffs tipy-toeing timidly to plant a soft kiss to his chin but it lands against his throat making him thin his lips to give out a noise that could embarrass both of them.

"Not telling you." He squeaks dragging her outside into the porch and she whines, "You leech!"

"You did not!" She snaps her neck in utter exhilaration from the view in front of her and towards Harry who's watching her with puffed cheeks to not to give out his bunny smile as her face turns guppy. The sunshine dawdles around them and she pulls him down to her level with the tug of their intertwined hands, "You're somethin' else, Styles." It warms his blood. Bursting sentiments of pure love and amiability through each orifice that leads to his heart.

"Only fo' you." He whispers stroking the plush of her cheek -- restraining to place his needy lips on her alluring pillow one's inviting him to have a good taste of their sweetness before they could taste the ripeness of strawberries growing at the farm he just took her.

"Uhm. Let's see who could collect more!" She grins pushing herself three steps away from him with support of his pecs, "What's the prize?" He asks pawing at her hips to keep her in intimate distance and she giggles tapping his chin.

"A feeling of saccharine-ss and sweetness when we'll eat those strawberries out." She tries not to step on heavy branches that are still growing and makes her way to the fresh patch, "Perhaps, that could be acquired from eatin' somethin' else out too." His wet lips brushes against her earlobe as he speaks, sending a shiver down her spine.

"You're being very loud and lewd." She pokes him in ribs. Squatting down to pluck a juicy perfectly sized strawberry and hovering it against his mouth to give him a taste, "Hmm what could I say 'm a man of dirty words." His eyes darken to an intoxicating shade of emerald as his heart-shaped magenta lips wrap around the strawberry to split it in two with his teeth.

He still remembers. How her mouth tasted that night, how her lips came molding around his's like a stamp of a lover's letter and her body fitted against his's like a lost piece of puzzle.

Just made for him.

"Harry …" She's out of words. Maybe, breath.

"Yes dovie?" He hooks his finger into her belt's loop to saturate the thread like distance between them and makes tight hold at the nape of her neck to crane her head up to meet his honey eyed gaze, "D'ya know how to make strawberry mochi?" His shoulder slumps at her question and he rests his cheek atop her temple cutely.

"Noo." His voice sort of whine-y.

"No, problem. We'll make it together." She chuckles turning back to collect the strawberries into her basket.

She never had this fun. Messing around with him. Feeding eachother the sweet fruit. Him scaring her that some rat sprinted by her feet and enjoying the way she jumps at him, only wheezing comically when she throws a blow at him.

Her giggles bounces off each and every ivory flower and leafy plant as he pins her to the viridescent grass, with his thighs and tickles her non-stop. What started as raspberries turns into sloppy smothers of kisses all over her face.

"Harry!!" She bursts into another fit of laughter, "Stop." She warns him squeezing her thighs around his waist and he giggles challenging her.

"O'what? Huhh?" She closes her eyes nuzzling into his arm that's trapping her down, "Or I'll kiss you…" Her voice gentle and dulcet making his grip loosen and heartbeat fastens like a thunderbolt.

"'M not afraid of that." He gives a toothy grin sneaking a glance at her hand which's gliding up his throat to cup his cheek, eyelids fluttering like petals from breeze as she smudges her sweet mesh coated lips against his's in a tenderly ardent, and yearningly amiable kiss feeling her pulse ring in her ears with so much force.

His fingers make their home down her smooth hair to cup the nape of her neck, elbows digging into mud when he lifts her up to deepen the kiss sloppily. Just her. Only her. Swirling inside of him as his very thought.

Their noses crooking perfectly, skins kissing and bodies hitched to eachother with the knot of souls.

She whimpers into his mouth squishing the poor strawberry she was holding in her free hand from the intensity of fierce sentiments she's spiraling in; to have him all and swallow him all because he's that damn gorgeous. His tongue pokes and tickles the plush insides of her small mouth tasting the strawberry straight from where he loves the most. His belly burning with the fire of desire feeling the way her body's reacting with puriency to his subtle touches of affection.

He was dying to have a kiss from her the day she gave him her lips that night and he couldn't resist but to think about it regularly.

A wet filthy sound bubbles around them when they part away with the remnants of spit in the form of intricate strings connecting them; that breaks when he relaxes his forehead against her's taking a good breather of mossy air.

"S' messy." He tuts when his eyes fall at her palm covered in strawberry pulp.

She gasps giddy-ly when he pokes his pink tongue out and takes a huge swipe up her palm with an erotic hum that rattled her insides.

"H -- arry." She nibbles at her bottom lip to filter noises she's unable to hold meanwhile he sucks her fingers one by one to clean them, her panties twisting with an ache of want.

"Hmm. All nice 'n clean, now we should go." He says flipping her wrist to act as if he's inspecting it. Brushes the dirt of his trousers leaving her baffled and grumpy. When she doesn't stand up he squats down at her level arching a brow at her and before she could know what's happening she's thrown over his broad shoulder like a rag doll.

Her squeals hearty and giggly as she tries to punch his back but her breath gets caught in her throat when his large hand comes spanking her butt-cheek. He waits for her reaction —- grinning cheekily when she sucks in her weak mewls and grabs the back of his neck blabbering his name off.

He puts her back on the ground once out on the gravel path and hands her the basket piled with strawberries. Ducks down to sponge a kiss to her cheek telling her to stay glued to her spot as he leaves to pay.

She smiles down at her feet then at the sky revinding all the moments and their lovely kiss that makes her feel all warm and stupidly gooey.

While boarding the train he wiggles his finger behind himself to get a hold on her and keep her close to him, craning his neck with a lopsided sly smile, "Hold me hand."

"If you insist." She nods with a grin slipping her fingers over his palm and he wovens them with his own with a firm grip stepping inside the train and helps her to do so with his free hand behind her head.

She sighs. Sitting with her back pressed against the window of the train. One leg folded and other dangling from the seat as she stares at Harry with a pouty smile.

"Don't ya think you're sittin' too far away from me?" He says, grabbing her knee, "Come here." And slides her towards himself now their thighs overlapping. He doesn't like even the mere distance between them —-- might sound sappy but he wants to be like her scent.

"Happy?" She pinches his cheek and he winces dramatically ruffling her already loose tresses of hair making her look as if she was on a roller coaster minutes ago, "aren't you a one clingy bunny!" She huffs trying to blow away the hair falling in her eyes. He bobs his head in agreement and slings his elbow around her shoulders to tuck her under his chin protectively.

"Okie, now add some sugar in it —- aish slow down …" She coughs waving away the sugar dust tickling her nostrils as Harry poured so much sugar all at once. He has his chin rested on her head and her hips crooned against his thighs as they make the strawberry and vanilla mochi together.

His puffer jacket on her shoulders (To the time they went to buy grocery stuff it started being cold and Harry being a mommy he took out his jacket and bundled her up in it) —- She sneezes and he quips pecking her hair, "Bless your heart." Fetches her a tissue too.

"Thank you, bubs." She giggles grabbing his jaw bringing him down to smooch a kiss to his lips. She pulls back but he persists snaking his palm around the nape of her neck to keep her put —- she gives in with her heart fluttering like candle flame in a destructive storm.

Turns in his embrace and hooks her elbows behind his head patching tiny, tiny, tiny pecks on his pillowy lips until he gets desperate to kiss her mouth and tongue pushing her to his front by gliding his hand into the back-pocket of her jeans.

Her head lulls. Feeling as if the kitchen got filled with candy clouds floating around her when he cradles her cheeks in his both palms lapping at her bottom lip and nips at it with every whimper of desire that falls, "Mine." He breathes out rubbing the bridge of his nose up and down her cheek like a puppy nuzzling into his favourite plushie.

"Yours." She says without any hesitation.

He smashes his wet lips back on hers. Swirls of gleeful colours surrounding them as he feels like he could kiss her forever.

She gasps gazing down lustfully at his wine cherried lips when he holds her from waist and sits her on the wooden counter, "I want you to take me." She murmurs nailing at the silk of his top and he paws at her hip-bones cravingly, it makes her feel like one the most desired women alive.

"I'm all yours to pleasure you lovie'," He looks her in the eyes with so much love and affection it melts her whole, "Just ask me and I'll give me girl what she wants …. " He says trailing sloppy kisses down her throat. Her head falls against the tiled wall giving him more access to her skin --- so he could mark her as he wishes.

The heat from his mouth to her bare skin arouses her to an extent she feels wetness sticking to the insides of her thighs with each grind of his crotch against her's.

She tugs at the roots of his curls, mouth parted around a moan when he grazes his touch over her plump breasts, "Is this okay?" He asks breathlessly and she bobs her head vigorously latching onto him.

"Yes, please, more … " He blinks to let reality sink in when she raises her arms in the air for him to get rid of her clothes.

He smiles. Hard. Crinkles forming by his eyes and cheery lines around his mouth as she looks up at him with those doe eyes glinting with his own reflection.

She squirms grumpily and he cackles loudly when she hooks his fingers into the hem of her jeans as a sign that "just undress me right now and fuck me hard over this counter." But, the romantic sap he's just keeps on being a tease.

"Fuck me already." She huffs locking her ankles behind his back.

"Trust me, I want it as bad as y'do but are you sure —-- "

"I'm --- just fuck …. " She cuts him off, cupping his cheeks and kisses his mouth. He groans when she sucks his swollen lip in between his teeth and lifts her pelvis grinned against his swell lining in his trouser to elaborate her neediness through actions,

He undresses her finally folding them and putting them away nicely while she stays a breathless mess just in her undies, her sheer panties soaked in her juices and profanities of moans fuses into air from both of them as Harry places his hands on her knees. Irises darkening with lust when he looks at the delicate lines of her drippy pussy lips forming from underneath the material.

"Spread your legs, I want to feel how turned on I made you feel." His voice an obscene grunt and it tingles her core making her feel she should obey him, "Fuckin' hell." His moan is dirty as he rubs the pad of his long digits against her soaked centre. His piercing gaze flitting between her thighs crumbled her in the best way possible.

She fists the hem of his top, tugging at it with the blabbering of his name.

A series of pornographic whines leaves her through her nose when he demands her to raise her bum so he could get rid of the last thing being a bother to them.

"Oh my — " She arches her spine when his fingers withered in her stickiness, between her glistening pussy lips to her mound pinching her clitoris in the way and listens to the soapy noises he's creating while lathering his hand with her juices he'd love more to coat his tongue with.

"This is what you want, hmm? For me to bend you over this counter right fucking now and pump me thick cock inside your sweet cunt from behind till you're screaming for me to ram harder inside you, so deep that you feel me in your little tummy and I keep it there for hours making you cum on it again and again — many time that you're milky and cramped around my prick like a filthy girl you're." He dips his impossibly sweet pink tongue inside her mouth and makes her sip down his dirty words through her throat not letting her mewls slip out as his lengthy finger slicks inside her causing her melt against his chest with a turmoil of emotions and heat she never felt before.

Her brain whirles with the mantra of fuckfuckfuck but her guppy lips says otherwise, she coils her arms around his shoulders scratching her nails down his neck — eyes rolling back as she shakes with the build of ecstasy.

"You're so snug and warm, sweets. Can't wait to be inside you." He husks curling his digit to give her upper wall a good rub, "Harry!" Her scream comes out gruff vibrating with a sexy octave.

"Yes, baby." He pinches her chin between his thumb and forefinger staining soft wet kisses from the corner of her lips, to her rosy cheeks and down her throat sewing love bites along her veins.

"Does it feel good, hmm? 'M g'na stuff you full of my prick bet it'll make you feel like heavens --" Her brows tenses up as he forces her to keep her eyes locked with his's and groans with the throb in his cock bound to implode with each whimper of his name she lets out hiking up her knees on the counter — the heels of her feet sticking firmly against the edge of the counter giving a carnally pleasing view for him to enjoy and ooze with sticky precum.

He huffs out breathily, fingers sliding in and out at a fast pace while he moves down to take her perky nipple between his teeth teasing it with nip of his tongue, "Fuck. Mhmm baby I've so many dirty things to d'to you, would you be an atta girl and be naughty with me?" He nuzzles his curls against her skin grinding his knuckles up and down against her swollen clit.

"Yes, yes, yes." She moans trying to sink impossibly deep on his fingers. He admires her in amusement as her belly twists into ripples and she thrashes in his tight hold —- broken into pieces of vulnerability foxily.

He withers his gaze to where he's driving his fingers roughly inside her and a cold shiver runs down his spine, eyelashes fluttering and he sucks his bottom lip brutally praising her softly, "yes just like that darling taking my fingers so good —- they'll look pretty down your throat too while I'll fill your other holes with me, all me." He wraps a hand around her throat giving it a light squeeze and it was enough to spread warmth and the saccharine feeling of fullness in her every tissue gushing over his fingers.

"You're mine." He growls nipping at her sweet spot –-- wearing her out with his continuous different motions inside her. His wrist glistening with her come and her head lulls on his tanned shoulder, eyes slip shut, chest levitating with shallow breaths.

She cups his cheeks wrapping her trembling legs around his waist and kisses his smile, it's sloppy and barely a kiss with their lazy effort to keep their mouths on each other to soak into intimacy.

Next they're a moaning and crying mess on the kitchen floor with her knee hooked around his hip to keep him close as he stretches her out leaving a pleasurable burn against her squishy inviting walls.

His cock sits warm inside her pussy and his balls snug against her bum. It's torturous waiting for her to give a signal that he might move because he couldn't resist but to be rock hard inside her and fuck her for hours but his knees are laughing at him for being unable to bear the sting of cold tiles.

"You can move, 'm okay." She whispers hugging him for dear life and he nods grinding his hips slowly, the bulbous head of his dick hitting all the right spots —- he's so good at fucking.

He takes her fleshy tits in his palms caressing them with each lewd stroke of his cock inside her and treats her glistening lips from his spit back to his mouth, pecking it generously.

"Pull me hair." He groans pushing hard and guides her hand into his swirl of sweaty curls — hips stuttering, eyes rolling back into his skull erotically when she does so peppering loving kisses under his earlobe, "You're g'na ruin me lovie … fuck me please." He whines grabbing her ass and lifts her pelvis to slide inside her dripping pussy with much more roughness.

She has never seen him like this. Shredded to seams for her, sweat beading down his gorgeous face like glimmer of pearls and eyes mossed with so much lust and desperation it knocks air out of her lungs.

He rolls them over gently and her squeal turns into a shameless yawp when he feels much more bigger than before inside her with her being on top of him —- he was right she could feel him in her tummy.

She's clueless what to do. Not that she's gonna show it –- she doesn't want to give him an impression that she knows barely anything about riding but the way she begins with zealous back and forth movement digging the heels of her palms against his pecks wrecks him havoc.

"You're doin' so good pet, yes, yes, yes. Use me baby. Use me like your little fuck toy 'm c'mon." He grabs the nape of her neck and brings her down to skim his tongue over her lips, manipulating the plushiness of them with his teeth. His balls slapping against her skin as she bounces on his cock diligently and he fists the soft flesh of her bum with both of his hands to help her ride him knows she's labouring herself out, "I'm all yours." He says caressing her sides to make sure she's okay and brushes the wisp of sticky hair behind her ear.

"You're looking so sexy sitting on my dick like that -- how about I don't allow you to cum so you could keep me warm with your pussy like that fo' hours?" His pants out gripping at her thighs as his prick spills with wetness inside her and she cries out shaking, "No!" He smirks crinkled forming by his eyes and takes this chance to drive hard up inside her making her flop onto his chest.

She gasps moistly, pulsating around him feeling every ridge and vein of his cock stroking against her walls creating obscene noises of skin meeting skin and their moistures mixing soapily like gooe.

"Cum fo' me baby -- squeezing me s' tight. I know you're there." His pants laboured and heavy as he sucks his own digits coating them with his spit nicely and glides them down pressing them to her weeping bud, then flickers it in prolong circles. Toes curling. His thrusts consistent and fast. She crooks her nose against his's murmuring to him with a wavering voice.

"I'm gonna cum, fuck."

"You're gonna make me come."

Her eyes widen in surprise but her body reacts otherwise albeit she has never experienced it —- but her moans were uncontrollable when he spanked her butt cheek and she crampied down at him jolting tremendously with the wave of insanity spreading to her bones.

"I'm a naughty boy, give it to me." He kisses his teeth together man spreading and throwing his knees up to ram up inside her perfectly.

His eyes shuts till he could see white spotting behind them -- he spills inside her in form of thick ribbons and milks her cunt with it riding her out of her high. She clings to his body and snuggles into him to tone down the shivers running down her spine with each tiny orgasm she feels rushing out with his lazy thrusts.

"I'm jello." She tells him and he looks down at her with a mishevious grin, "Does that give me a reason to eat you whole?" She rolls her eyes poking at his cheek with a grossed out expression.

"I'm still inside ye', remember?" He stirs his hips to make her realise and she yelps not know if it's making her feel hot or utterly sensitive, "You're insatiable." She mumbles pouting her lips to indicate him she's dying for his lips to smooch kisses to her.

"No kidding I love the noises you make when you come undone." She confesses timidly drawing stars at his chest and he giggles kissing her temple gently, "Stop before you wake me buddy up again –- he quite fond of you." He blushes hiding his face into the crook of her neck with tiny voice.

They're canoodling under the fluffy blanket on the sofa watching telly after they just took a bath together, shampooing eachother with peach scents and drying eachother off with warm towels. She's nuzzled into his side wearing one of his baby yellow robes, his arm stays around her shoulder thumb addicted to caressing her silky cheek, sometimes spreading his fingers down her throat to tip her chin up to smooch sweet kisses on her lips.

"You're cute when you're not a pest." She giggles and he frowns comically pretending to munch her alive, "That's very rude -- you should be thankful that I lov — " Her heart almost stops functioning.

They were sipping onto their green teas and nibbling onto the strawberry mochi they made and refrigerated before when the doorbell rang making them groan in laziness.

She stood up going to see what took Harry so long on the door and got revealed to him talking instinctively to whoever rang the bell.

"Hi, Y/N." Scottie smiles at him. Carrying her luggage and Y/N looks down at her attire for a second then forwards her hand shyly. She was so scared that day –- it's a blur to her but now she watches Scottie properly she realizes …. She's the same girl from all the paparazzi photos.

Something switches off inside her. The rainbows and confettis, the moonlight and stars and the nebula of the whole galaxy she had consumed in her little body from making love to Harry just shuts down into a white noise.

Her bottom lip plumps into a pout. Eyebrows trembling from this confused feeling of some invisible thing squeezing the life out of her.

She's jealous.

"I just came here to say bye." Scottie's voice makes her focus back into reality.

"Oh…" She just nods. She doesn't return the hug even though her brain guilt trips her for that and when Scottie leaves with the air thick and tense, Harry corners her in between a wall and piece of furniture cradling her grumpy face in his careful palms speaking gently to her.

"You don't 'ave to worry 'bout her, she's just a friend …. Infact you don't have to worry 'bout anyone because I love you so so much baby that I don't see myself spending me life with anyone else." She glances up at him twice, jaw falling slack from shock and he chuckles smothering her in kind-hearted kisses when she stares at him like a hawk.

"You what!?"

"I love you, Y/N." Her eyes closing like a moth flapping nearer to fire and finding peace in burning inside it.

"I love you too so much." She whispers and welcomes his lips melting against her ardently. With the passion only lovers hold. Amiability she couldn't find anyone else but in his embrace, in his kisses and his lovemaking.

"Can we go back to cuddlin'? Me feet gettin' cold baby." He whines treading fastly into the living room while carrying her like a kitten from behind and makes squeaky noises once snoozed under the warmth of the blanket.

He touches their foreheads. Kissing the tip of her nose adorably.

"I love you." Then burst into giggles. When she returns the passion coyly.

"I love you too."

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles one shots #harry styles fanfic #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #Harry Styles fluffy duffy

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arthur-j-raffles · 3 years

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Hey, why do you think people get upset (especially purists) with the concept of Johnlock when it's been here for ages? I love the thrilling impulsive disordered way Sherlock thinks and acts (like my ADHD, OCD, and other mental disorders which I headcanon Sherlock to have.) alongside his nurturing and supportive Boswell (like my fiancé). They're flirty, fun, and affectionate with their jokes and laughs with each other throughout their mysteries, and that comforts me. Canon is damned and I don't care what Conan's opinions are if it makes me happy. Why are people so sour, salty, and act like the idea of me writing fanfiction and buying fanart of my first ship at 12 (when I first read Sherlock from the public library with my nana a decade ago) is the worst thing in all of existence and ruins Sherlock Holmes? Am I the crazy one or is everyone else who's crazy? (Btw it's nice to see someone on Tumblr who loves the OG turn of the last century version Sherlock than the terrible show alongside Lupin and Raffles.)

Hi anon! I know you probably just asked this question to get me to respond about how it’s ridiculous that anyone would get that upset about a fictional ship, but this question got me thinking for a bit. I’m one of the most biased sources here (i’ve made posts about how i don’t tag John/Sherlock because it should be a given, etc.), but I’ll try to respond to this question with an honest and fair answer because there are a lot of factors as to why people get upset at John/Sherlock.

Below the cut I’ll talk about:

1. Cultural Osmosis

2. 19th Century Friendship

3. Distaste for Shipping

4. Homophobia

1. Cultural Osmosis

One of the reasons I think is most prevalent is that people who have never read or watched any Sherlock Holmes content assume because it’s so old and so popular that they’ve somehow absorbed enough of it through pop culture and references that they know what Sherlock is like via cultural osmosis. They know he’s deductive and doesn’t like people, so they assume he’s cold, always calculated, and the pinnacle of detective perfection. They know John is the narrator and Sherlock’s friend, so they just assume John is basic, boring, and so uninteresting that he’s barely in Sherlock’s social circle, but merely tags along with him. This vision of both of the characters is skewed so far from the canon that people either can’t fathom how you ship these two characters who in their minds are very incompatible, or the more common thing, people have a preconceived notion that you’re looking too much into it because nothing old and published can be gay.

(This kind of thing isn’t just exclusive to Sherlock, either. People will also gawk at the idea of Spock/Kirk from Star Trek TOS because they assume they know what TOS is without even watching it because they’ve seen the cultural impact of “beam me up, Scotty” and “live long and prosper.” They create a mental image of TOS that’s mostly full of their own assumptions, and gay subtext isn’t one of their expectations.)

2. 19th Century Friendship

Another reason is that historical male friendships are different than what the typical male friendship is now. In the 19th century, men were more open to showing affection for each other in strong ways. Photos from the century show male friend groups openly holding hands, arm in arm, and helping light each other’s cigarettes. Obviously a lot of men are shaking off ideas of “manliness” that limit the way they can express their platonic love to their friends, but there’s still a lot of men that won’t hold their best friend’s hands because “that’s just weird/that’s gay.” This is all a long-winded way of saying that, to some people, Sherlock and John are the pinnacle of close male friendship in the 19th century. They are the perfect show of platonic affection between men, something that some people look up to and aspire towards. To people who think of Sherlock and John as exclusively best friends, they may feel offended or baffled that anyone would try to “ruin” that friendship by making the two lovers. That’s why some people who are legitimate fans of Sherlock Holmes may take offense to the ship: they think it ruins the friendship between the characters.

3. Distaste for Shipping

It isn’t uncommon for fans of a series to have a distaste for shipping elements, especially for a series whose sole focus isn’t romance. Sherlock Holmes is in no way a romance, and some people feel that shipping shouldn’t be the focus of fandom content because the source material isn’t romantic. People who want to focus on mystery and suspense elements may believe that shipping ruins what fans should be focusing on and appreciating in the franchise. And they have some merit in thinking that shipping can ruin the focus of a franchise, because there are definitely some fandom subcultures out there that ignore important themes and messages in shows to instead focus on their ship. But, this is an over-generalization of any fandom, clearly.

The above reasons for someone disliking Sherlock/John are not malicious. They assume the person is well-intentioned but misguided. In the cultural osmosis example, the person just doesn’t understand the source material and thus doesn’t understand the ship. In the friendship example, the person just wants to see a male friendship that isn’t toxic, and mistakes the act of shipping for throwing away that interpretation entirely. In the distaste for shipping example, the person just wants to focus on the themes of Holmes and not the romantic subtext. However, saying that everyone who gets upset at shipping John/Sherlock is well-intentioned would be a lie.

4. Homophobia

There’s an obvious reason of—whether implicit or explicit—homophobia when some people get downright disgusted or outraged that someone would ship John/Sherlock. I don’t think it needs explanation as to what homophobia is, but Sherlock/John especially outrages people more than other gay ships because the characters are classic. Sherlock is known throughout the world, everyone knows his name even if they’ve never read any of the stories, and his iconography—smoking pipe, hat, and jacket—have become well-recognized. It makes ignorant people boil over when you say that this iconic character who has remarkable impact on the world may be gay, asexual, or transgender. They think that lgbtq identities are something taboo or something to be ignored. To them, lgbtq characters should be background noise at most. And vocalizing that you see John/Sherlock subtext in their interactions destroys that.

TL;DR: Some people may be upset by John/Sherlock because they don’t understand the source material, they think shipping destroys a friendship dynamic they liked, or they feel that shipping takes away from the story. Some people may be upset by John/Sherlock because of ignorance and homophobia.

#sherlock holmes #holmes #sherlock #dr watson #john watson #acd holmes #original post

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buckysmischief · 4 years

Text

wish you were here, part 1

Scott Lang x reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: Falling in love with someone who lives one the other side of the country is a bitch, but can you make it work?

Warnings: language, long distance, a little angst, fluff

Prompt: Internet friends to lovers

AN: This is for @flowerymoonlight ‘s challenge 💙 also thank you to @saundrasays & @jillybeaner13 for reading over this part for me, I owe you both 💚

I will not be doing a taglist for this mini series

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“Are you sure Sam won’t mind?” Friday’s were date nights for him and Wanda, so when she called that morning and invited you to dinner, you got suspicious. It had been almost a year since your ex found himself a new girlfriend and as your best friend, Wanda had made it her mission to keep your mind off of him - he was a coward and didn’t deserve anymore of your tears. You came home one day and all his belongings, and the huge flat screen that you paid for, were gone. You thought someone had broken in until you found a note in his hand writing that just read “sorry”.

“Date night got moved, he’s got a “business” call with his friend in an hour. It’s fine, really, ask him yourself.” she gestured to the front door of their apartment, Sam walking in seconds later. “Babe, tell YN that date night is cancelled.”

“Hi honey, my day was amazing, thanks for asking.” he said, following it with a kiss so she knew he was messing with her. “Yeah, a buddy of mine in California works in security and he sent us this new system and I have no idea how to work it. I figured with the time difference and our attention spans it would be better to move date night to tomorrow.” Sam didn’t bring up this friend often, you didn’t even know his name, but you were definitely curious.

While Sam cleaned up, you helped Wanda by setting the table. She insisted on doing all the cooking and you learned to just let her have it. It wasn’t long before the three of you were sitting around the dinner table, laughing over empty plates. Being around Wanda and Sam was always refreshing, the mood was always light and the conversation always flowed from one thing to another so naturally. Before any of you knew it, Sam was getting a FaceTime call, “SCOTT! Your friend's name is Scott! Ha!” Sam laughed at your excitement as he walked into his office to answer the call.

Instead of going home, Wanda poured you a glass of wine and decided you were staying, something about Sam always losing track of time when it came to Scott. You were looking through their collection of DVDs when you found an oldie but goodie, Jawbreaker. By the time it started playing, Wanda was back with snacks and blankets.

The movie wasn’t on for long before you had to go to the bathroom, Courtney was being a bitch again so you didn’t worry about missing the rest of the scene. As you were washing your hands, though, you thought you heard your name. You turned off the water and was about to brush it off when you heard it again… coming from Sam’s office?

After sneaking out of the bathroom and down the hall, you found yourself standing to the side of the half opened door, trying to figure out why your name would be brought up by either of them. You were just about to forget about it until you heard it again, “I just don’t think YN would be up for it..”

“Be up for what?” you bursted through the door, causing Sam to throw his phone across the room, coincidently, at your feet. Sam knew he wouldn’t get to it before you, so you quickly grabbed it up and bolted to the living room. “Oh look,” you smiled at the stranger on the phone, “he has a name and a face to match.”

“Ahh, you must be YN. Sam said you were a fallen angel, now I know why.” He was cute, funny, and definitely just winked at you.

“That’s not - I said she was the devil, and THIS is why! Who just bursts into rooms and takes their friends' phones!?” He was still chasing you through the apartment, meanwhile Wanda was laughing so hard on the couch she was almost in tears.

“Awww Sammy, you talk about me?? That- that’s so sweet!” you laugh, trying to dodge the pillows Sam is hurdling your way. He finally pelts one right at your head, causing you to drop his phone. You tried grabbing it, but Sam was faster, “YN, I love you to death, but I will body slam you into the couch the next time you make me chase you ever again.”

“That’s fine, I got what I wanted.” with a smug look on your face, you walked back to your spot on the couch to finish the movie.

Later that night after Wanda and Sam were asleep, you were still up scrolling through different apps when you got a few interesting Twitter notifications.

It had been a few days since you and Scott “met”. You only had a few conversations after that, but this was the most you’ve put yourself out there in a long time and it felt good. Even if he was just a friend, you sensed he was going to be important.

For some reason though, Sam still wasn’t super excited with how close you were getting. “I mean, I love Sam dearly, but he’s not the friend police.” Wanda only gave a shrug before opening her apartment door to the sound of Sam talking to someone on the phone.

“Hey babe,” she whispers, kissing him on the cheek, “who's that?”

Before he could even answer you heard the laugh and knew it was Scott. “So, how is my first ex husband doing?” You tried getting a good look at his screen, but he kept it far from your reach. “You wish, he won't be your ex anything if I have anything to say about it!”

From Sam’s phone you could hear Scott laugh hard before replying, “Aw, Sam, that’s so sweet. We’re not even dating yet and you’re already fighting for us to make it. That's the best man energy I’m looking for.” Scott’s laugh was cut off by Sam ending the call, refusing to play along with whatever that was.

“How close are you two exactly?” Sam has always treated you like a little sister, but ever since Quill left it’s only gotten worse. He felt responsible since he introduced you, but there was no way he could have known that Quill was the biggest asshole in the galaxy. “Because when he asked about you, he called you his “future wife” so what kind of coincidence is that??”

Wanda rolled her eyes, knowing exactly where this was headed. “Babe, relax. They haven't talked that much. But, just thinking out loud...” she paused, “they do have a lot in common..”

“What are you getting at?”

“Nothing, It- it’s a shame he lives on the other side of the country because I think you two would be the perfect couple, but that doesn’t mean you two shouldn’t be friends.” She’d always been able to know what you were thinking without you even telling her, Scott was funny and cute and she was right, if he lived in NYC he’s definitely the type of guy you’d try to date. But he didn’t, and that’s okay.

As you got to know Scott better though, you learned that he was more than just the “funny” one. He was ridiculously smart and clever, more than he gave himself credit for. When he told you that he spent a few years in prison you didn’t believe him, he ended up just sending a picture of his mugshot and links to articles about the trial. Sam was surprised to find out you knew, it wasn’t information Scott just confessed to everyone.

“How did it even get brought up?”

“We were playing 21 questions and I asked him what the most trouble he ever got in, when he first told me I thought he was kidding but after he sent proof I was shocked.” Scott was worried that you’d look at him differently, but if anything it made you respect him more. It also meant that he trusted you, and you should trust him too.

It wasn’t long before you realized you were catching real feelings for him, and Wanda was right, a long distance relationship just wasn’t something you could do right now. You should have seen it coming, prevented it even. Staying up on the phone all night, texting him before Wanda when something random happens, the good morning/ goodnight texts.. You even told him about Quill, turns out Scott knew who he was, vowing to give Sam hell for introducing you to “that asshole” instead of him.

“Oh, so you think you’d be a better boyfriend?”

“There’s only one way to find out.” He became very flirtatious recently and you secretly loved it. Of course, you’d never let him know it.

“How’s a guy like you single, anyway?”

“It’s a funny story actually..” there was a strain in his voice that made you want to tell him he didn’t have to answer, but his tone told you that this was something he needed so say. “I was engaged to a woman, Hope, for almost two years. One day I saw a text from her boss and in one message I found out all the business trips they were taking were actually for pleasure, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, Scotty..”

“No, don’t feel bad. That was almost a year and a half ago, I’m more than over it. I just don’t trust as easily anymore.” As he changed the topic to something more light, you thought about what Sam had said before, how Scott told you things he doesn’t normally tell other people. For a second, you almost let yourself think that he might have some kind of feelings for you, too.

“So, what’s the plan again?” Wanda had insisted Sam’s birthday party be a surprise this year, even throwing it the weekend before his actual birthday so he wouldn’t suspect.

“If you’d stop texting Scott for two seconds you’d remember.”

“Bucky and Steve are taking him out to do whatever his heart desires, while we’re here getting ready. The food should be here in like, two hours, so we’ve got plenty of time. I told Steve they’re not allowed back before 7pm and that I’d text him when we’re done just to be safe. The slackers will show up whenever they please, I guess.”

By slackers she meant Pietro and Clint, they showed up just in time to help lay out the food. They definitely didn’t sample everything they put their hands on, that would be rude. Well, at least they brought alcohol.

Wanda finally texted Steve that everything was ready and not even 10 minutes later they were walking through the door. Sam was greeted to a loud “surprise” from everyone in the room and was quickly prepared to catch Wanda, who threw herself into his arms. It wasn’t until Bucky and Steve fully entered the apartment that you realized there was someone else with them.

“Scott?” As he made his way to you, time felt as if it were slowing down all around you. As silly as it sounds, you never thought you’d actually meet him, or maybe you just didn’t allow yourself to. It didn’t matter though, did it? Here he was, the man you’ve been falling for for months now, standing right in front of you like he had in so many of your dreams. “Is this real?”

Before he could explain, Wanda beat him to it, “I texted him a few weeks ago to see if he wanted to come out, he agreed on the condition it would be a surprise to everyone. He got in last night.”

“A whole day, Scott Lang. You’ve been in the city a whole day!? You were texting me the whole time!” He scooped you up in his arms for a hug, and when he put you down you immediately wished he didn’t.

“The look on your face was definitely worth it.” You’ve seen his smile a hundred times, but none compared to how contagious it was in person.

After that, he never left your side. At first you felt bad because he was Sam’s friend and he was only here because it was Sam’s birthday, but he told you that they just spent the last eight hours together and you didn’t feel as bad. “Besides, I’ll be here a week,” he quickly scanned the room to make sure no one was watching and began to whisper in your ear - it was soft, and deeper than you’ve heard before, “that’s plenty of time to get to know eachother better.”

Blushing, you playfully slap him on the chest and go to refill your drink. You thought it’d be a good idea to double the amount of alcohol that was already in the glass, but quickly decided against it and went for soda instead. There was no way you were going to turn into a drunk idiot in front of him, no way.

“So, do you like your surprise?” Wanda said. With Scott flirting teasing you, you almost forgot this was all her doing.

“Could have given me a warning, Wands..”

“I did, I told you to wear those shoes with that dress.” She pointed to the simple black heels you were wearing that went perfectly with the black dress that was just hanging in the back of your closet. The top was black lace, while the bottom half was silky and flared out. At first you wondered why you were getting so dressed up when you weren’t even leaving the apartment, but brushed it off when she told you it matched the dress code she gave to everyone.

“He’s leaving in a week, what am I supposed to do, seduce him into staying?”

“No,” she laughed, “but don’t ignore your feelings. Everyone knows he likes you too.”

“You’ll never stop meddling, will you?”

“Never.”

“Glad we cleared that up.”

She then wished you good luck and went off to find Sam, but as the night went on her words never left your mind. It had been a long time since you let the thought of Scott liking you back cross your mind, but now with your best friend telling you that he in fact does…

“Whatcha thinking about?” Green eyes and the smell of mint flooded your senses and every thought was lost.

“Nothing important. So, what are you actually doing while you’re here? I’m sure Sam is excited.” There was no harm in testing the waters, right?

“He is, but I was being serious before, I want to get to know you better.”

“The only person who knows me better than you is Wanda, and she knows me better than I do.” He began laughing, and just like his smile, it was even better in person.

“That’s all true, but I have two options for you: take advantage of the time that I’m here, or come back to San Francisco with me for a few days. Or both, I’d be more than okay with both.”

“I’m sure you would, but let’s take it slow? Lunch tomorrow?”

“It’s a date,” he smirked, “right now though you should come listen to the embarrassing story of Sam I’m about to tell.”

Permanent tags (49/50): @sociallyeneptbarnes @hopesbarnes @saturn-aka-six @stuckonjbbarnes @superavengerpotterstar @estillion14 @sleepingspacedragon @geeksareunique @infj-slytherclaw @imsoft-barnes @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @murdermornings @distractedgemini @screaming-fridge @readeity @whatinthyworld @my-drowning-in-time @valkyriesryde @starbxcks @buggy-blogs @hey-its-grey @pinknerdpanda @brokenthelovely @theannoyingnightmarecollector @death-unbecomes-you @rhymesmenagerie @ptrprkrss @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @mushyjellybeans @https-bucky @also-fangirlinsweden @goalexis123 @missmeganrachel @sunflowersandcherry @miraclesoflove @matsumama @reann-loves-sebstan @thinkoutsidethebex @thefridgeismybestie @niall2017 @maddope @imagine-all-the-imagines @thummbelina @m3ga1nsp1r3d @starspangledseb @thebadassbitchqueen @king-seb @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @bonkyboinkybucky

#celebratinguswriters #scott lang x reader #scott lang imagine #social media au #mcu fanfic #marvel #wish you were here #fluff #angst #pining #internet friends to lovers

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hhgossip · 3 years

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HIDDEN HILLS WEEKLY ISSUE #2

In this issue of Hidden Hills Weekly, we are talking about the outrageous lives of our celebrities in the gated community! We talk about polyamorous lovers to concerts in your every own kitchen!

ISABELLE AMOR’S ADDING ON TO HER POLY LIFESTYLE?

For the past week, Isabelle Amor, 28 has been in New York filming her newest show, “Only Murders In The Building.” She has been seen up and down the busy streets, filming scenes and having fun on set but fans have noticed that the singer/actress is having too much fun with her co-star. The pair have been seen getting quite cozy with one another when the cameras cut. They have been seen with big smiles and sparkles in their eyes. It comes as quite a shock as Isabelle is in an unconfirmed relationship with country music stars Annika Baddie, 25, and Cameron Nelson, 26. You did read that right, Isabelle is dating Both Annika and Cameron. They are living a polyamorous lifestyle where three people are all seeing each other.

Fans are wondering if Isabelle’s co-star is going to be added to her relationship with the country stars. Fans took it far enough to compare the relationship and pictures of Isabelle with her ex-boyfriends and current lovers to her new beau. Those pictures include her famous love story with James Hemmings, 27, with who they share one child together. Mateo Hemmings, 3. One fan stated on Twitter that - “Jelle is way more hotter than this! What is this?!” Along with the tweet was a shared picture of Belle with her co-star. While other fans tweeted that Belle looked happier with her two other loves. “Belle looks GLOWING with Ani and Cam! LET HER BE HAPPY!” Says another fan.

What do Annika and Cameron think about Isabelle potentially looking for another lover? What do you all think? Let us know!

WALLEN FATHERED A CHILD IN SECRET WITH MACKENZIE?

On February 26, 2021, the multi-talented actress Mackenzie Locklear, 23, told the world via Instagram that she had given birth on February 15th to a baby boy named Phoenix Finn Locklear. The actress went silent on all types of social media after the Sweetheart Dance we held on the 12th of this month until her huge announcement. We haven’t heard much about her birth but everyone is wondering who the father is. Mackenzie never said out in any interviews who the father of her son is but many people are assuming it’s Wallen Ward, 28, country singer. People are only assuming this as Mackenzie has been seen at many of Ward’s concerts in the past. She is either in the sound booth or she is backstage with everyone else. Wallen is currently married to Madeline King, 22, the youngest of the King Siblings.

We have reached out to all parties but we got nothing but got declined to speak from Locklear’s team, but we heard nothing back from King & Ward’s team just yet. But we will keep you all updated on the matter when we get the word!

ODESSA’S NIGHTMARE!

On the day of February 18th, 2021, we got reports of Daniel Kaylan, 29, had left his household with his daughter, Heather without notifying her mother and his fiancée, Odessa Fitzpatrick, 27. We were told that the police were called on the scene as Odessa had no idea where her daughter had gone to and assumed she had gone missing. It wasn’t clear where Daniel had gone with Heather but one thing that was clear is the fact that Odessa was not having any of it when Daniel revealed that he was the one who took Heather and left.

The couple just welcomed their third child, a son, into the world on the 14th of this month. Who they have not released the name yet. They also share another son, Wyatt, who is the oldest of the Kaylan Clan.

Rumors had spread that Odessa had indeed got the police involved once she could not find Heather anywhere and Daniel had to come home to talk them himself to explain what had really gone down. We know for sure, this is something he will never do again and might spend the rest of the year in the dog house for this one!

LOVE TRIANGLE IS STILL ON THE RISE!

Is 5 Seconds Of Summer’s guitarist still in love with a former groupie? The answer is unclear to many but also very clear to those around them! Spencer Stone, 25, used to sleep around constantly with Lanie Sinclair, 22, back when the band was touring for their album Sounds Good Feels Good. They currently share two children together, Lyric, 4, and Mercury, 2 months. Everything was going well between the two as co-parents before Spencer moved in with his girlfriend, Francesca “Frankie” Hart, 25. The house was already sold but Lanie ended up staying the night with Spencer the weekend before the big move and rumors have it that they have done more than just kiss that night. Sources had said that Sinclair left early in the morning with their daughter and her daughter, Lucina, 9 months, who she shares with her current boyfriend, Theodore “Theo” Dean, 26. Lanie was currently pregnant when she stayed the night.

Rumors only fueled even more as Lanie went off with Theo to Paris for nearly a month after giving birth to her son with Spencer. Theo was fresh out of an engagement with Nicole Hampton, 24, and Lanie was dealing with Spencer’s flip-flopping feelings for her. Sources had said in Aspen that Stone had made Sinclair cry more than once. Reports claim to overhear a fight between Spencer and Frankie as he admitted kissing Lanie. Witnesses say that Hart claimed to feel like she had been cheated on since Spencer agreed to father another baby with Lanie without talking to her about it first. This caused a huge rift between Hart and Stone in Las Vegas where Frankie walked out on him during blackout dinner.

During the Sweetheart Dance, many eyewitnesses had said that the whole night Spencer couldn’t tear his eyes away from his ex-groupie while she danced with her former turned current boyfriend Theo. What will Frankie think about all of this? What does Theo think about all of this as well?

SCOTTIE’S FREE CONCERT!

The Model/Youtuber Scottie Blake, 27, made headlining news when she went live on Instagram the other night and totally forgotten about it! It went from attempting to make pasta for dinner into a full-on action concert for thousands of people unknowing to her. Many of her fans were delighted to see Scottie enjoying herself as she danced around her kitchen and sang her heart out to her favorite songs. They blasted through her speakers and we do not blame her for forgetting about being live! When you have great music taste like Scottie, it’s common to forget what you were doing and just want to have some fun.

One fan wrote on Twitter, “LOOK AT HOW CUTE SCOTTIE IS!” With many heart emojis and a screenshot from the live.

Although trolls were making fun of the model, many of Scottie’s fans were quick to defend her and one started out. “As if you don’t do this when you’re alone lmao bye”

One thing is for sure, Scottie Blake, we need that album, and secondly, keep on dancing and never stop!

NICOLE HAMPTON IS TURNING TO A WRITER!

The rumors might be true! They might be false! But we do hope it’s true! Nicole Hampton, 24, had said it herself that she planned on writing a book called - “boy mom shit - you’ll be grey before thirty.” She then goes on to explain why she decided to write a book on parenting. It was because of her oldest son, Zeus, 6, who she shares with Derek King, 27. He was attempting to talk to his youngest brother, Asher, 4, who she shares with Brody Roberts, 30, to jump off his bed onto his skateboard so that he could ‘surf’ down the stairs. Luckily, Mama Hampton was quick to put that idea out of their heads and put their safety into their minds. Who knows what could have happened if she didn’t catch them in time!

As we are all parents in Hidden Hills, it would be so nice to hear what other parents have to go through. All children are wild, fun, and beautiful. They may drive us all up the wall but we do love them with all of our hearts! So, Nicole, we would love and buy your book! Give us a call when it’s about to be released! Don’t be shy now!

BRODY IS MOVING ON?!

Yes, you heard it here first! Brody Roberts says that he is ready to move on with his life and find that special someone! Our close sources say that he has come to terms with his ex-girlfriend, Nicole Hampton, 24 is moving on with her life and he is ready to do the same. As we stated in a previous story, the couple shares a son together, Asher, 5. The producer and director have been keeping a low profile recently but want to change that and step out more. We have to say that we’re excited to see Brody out and about again!

People close to the director stated that he wanted to connect with someone and meet that special someone in an authentic way and is adamantly opposed to dating apps. We get it, we don’t want to be catfished in this household. We were told that he has been asking around for ideas of places to meet people and even may have asked a few people to join him on that adventure. We do not know who at this time but once we get more details, we will share them with you all!

#hidden hills weekly.#issue 2.#isabelle amor.#cameron nelson.#annika badie.#james hemmings.#mackenzie locklear.#wallen ward.#madeline king.#theo dean.#spencer stone.#lanie sinclair.#odessa fitzpatrick.#daniel kaylan.#scottie blake.#nicole hampton.#brody roberts.

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crimsonbluemoon · 4 years

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40 Ohmtoonz UwU

I think this is the longest drabble yet. >.> uggggh.

Number: 40Prompt: reunion kisses; searching and searching for each other and finally finding one another, throwing themselves into a passionate kiss and mumbling promises against each others lipsPairing: Ohmtoonz

There’s a custom that everyone in town knows.

People from outside don’t, and would probably find it a little weird when hearing that every adult without a partner participates. The ribbons that are wrapped around their wrists are able to be bought in any grocery or convenience store in town. Blue for men, pink for women, or green for both, depending on the person’s love preference, with the owner’s name written on the edges. They’re worn like badges the week before the event, tied pretty in bows and loose enough to be snagged with the smallest of tugs. Everyone is meant to see them, to let possible suitors know what they’re looking for. But nobody is allowed to touch them before the first night of summer. It happens every year, in the town’s central park, right at the setting of the sun.

And for the first twenty-three years of his life, Luke thought the tradition was stupid. He knew it was how his parents found love, and his parents before them, but he didn’t understand the appeal. Why did they wait to court the person they liked for one particular day? What was so special about it? What if someone else took their lover’s ribbon before them? He didn’t see the meaning, and ignored the tradition for years after he turned eighteen. If he liked someone, he just asked, because he didn’t care. In fact, he avoided asking anyone he was interested in to go out near the holiday just in spite.

He’d go to the event (because it was considered dishonorable not to), but never rushed into the park like the others. He kept his wrist, adorned with a pink satin ribbon, tucked in his jeans pocket, watching the townsfolk act like idiots. He never felt robbed when a friend handed their ribbon over, always rolled his eyes at how the younger adults looked so excited to finally be able to join the romantic event of the year. Luke was fine staying on the sidelines, watching love bloom for everyone but him.

But that was before Ryan, the town’s new librarian, came into town six months ago. Ryan, the sweet man who had helped Luke find the house blueprints he needed to finish remodeling the old Victorian home. The same Ryan that came to his house to cook for him three times a night, despite Luke never asking (but the southern flavors in his chicken were too good to turn down). He was the only person Luke texted in the morning, and most nights ended up on the phone with him. His mouth was the first one on a guy that Luke had stared at a little too long to be friendly. And Ryan was the only reason that this year, after seeing the pretty blue color Ryan had picked for his own, that Luke’s ribbon was green instead of pink. Because if there was a chance…

“You’re going to ask for his ribbon, right?” Jonathan looked excited for his friend, or maybe the event itself. Luke didn’t get why his best friend always got to hopeful at these things; he’d never gotten his ribbon accepted. But with Ryan came Evan, a music teacher who once lived in town (between Luke and Jonathan’s houses) before his parent’s divorce made him move away. Evan had always been the ‘one that got away’ for Jonathan. The roommates were on the opposite side of the park, Evan laughing about something while tightening the blue ribbon around Ryan’s wrist. Luke’s eyes lingered on it for a moment before glancing back to Jonathan’s hopeful gaze.

“This whole tradition is stupid.”

“But you’re still gonna find him. You have to! I-if you don’t get to him first- I heard guys were-they were gonna ask him!”

“And if he gives them his ribbon, then he obviously likes them.” he reached forward and ruffled his friend’s hair, grinning at the noise of disapproval. “I’ll be fine. You just focus on getting Evan’s ribbon. He’s got a green one, which means guys and girls are gonna try to ask him.”

“What?! No way…” The dejection in Jonathan’s face made Luke sigh and shake his head.

“You’ll be okay, dumbass. Stop thinking so hard.” This was why he hated the tradition; it was too easy for someone’s heart to get broken. Again, he wondered why people looked forward to the stupid-

“Oh, they’re about to start.” Sure enough, Luke caught sight of the mayor raising his arm, the smoke gun pointed to the sky. There was a tension in the air as all eyes glanced to the final rays of sunlight, which fought valiantly to stay over the horizon. But night had the upper hand. With a final smothering of darkness, the gun shot off into the sky.

And the park flew into chaos. Luke saw Jonathan jump into the fray quickly, just as he always did. With how many times his heart had been given back to him broken and ribbonless, it was amazing to see how resilient he was. At first, Luke didn’t move, leaning on the same tree he always did to watch the commotion. He saw younger couples he knew were bound to match up finding each other in seconds. Brian barely had to take two steps to offer his ribbon to his best friend, Brock, who he’d come with to the event. Mini practically strangled Tyler with his after jumping on his back and sending them both tumbling to the grass. Marcel rejected a woman’s offer the same time that Scotty declined her sister, and Luke knew their ribbons would be switched by the end of the event. He couldn’t find Jonathan in the fray, but there was no sign of Evan either. Maybe they had found each other already?

Another slow glance around the park made him realize something else; he couldn’t see Ryan. A weird uptick in his heartbeat pressed painfully to his chest while he scanned the crowd, but there was no sign of him anywhere. But people only left the event when their ribbon was rejected by the person they liked or…or…

His back slowly pushed off the tree, hands out of his pockets when entering the fray. People bumped into him in all directions, laughs and gasps of joy making it impossible to call out for his friend. He avoided a couple kissing in order to move to another part of the park, wondering why his anxiety was rising with each step he took. He didn’t care about the tradition; he’d never actually thought of asking someone out. It was stupid and old fashion and just so sappy-

“Fuck.” He stopped for a moment, eyes wide when watching the pink flush spread over Ryan’s face. But it wasn’t at him; it was at the handsome baker standing in front of him, two fingers hooked in Ryan’s ribbon. They were standing close, like two lovers would, pretty hazel eyes focused on the slow way the bow in the ribbon started to be pulled apart. It wasn’t sappy or stupid at all; it was romantic. Just how a guy as sweet as Ryan would want to be wooed. Just like Luke wanted to woo him. Luke was so stupid. He was an idiot for not realizing that he should have just asked for the blue ribbon-

“I’m sorry.” Ryan’s voice cut off Luke’s misery. He blinked when the librarian stepped back and pulled his wrist away from the touch to rest it over his heart. “You caught me off guard when you asked. So I’m sorry but I, um, I can’t. There’s someone else I want to give my ribbon to.”

Luke was stunned into silence as the man apologized and walked away, leaving Ryan alone in the crowd. But it only took him a moment to get his brain back online.

“Ryan?” The way Ryan’s head jerked up at Luke’s call of his name made his heart swell, seeing the moment of excitement flash across Ryan’s face.

“Luke? You said you…and the tree-” Luke knew what Ryan was asking, but as soon as his friend got close enough to touch, he didn’t care. He yanked Ryan into his chest, hand clasped tight over the blue satin to make sure that nobody else could touch it again. Luke didn’t waste time with words, leaning down to kiss his answer into Ryan’s mouth. The lips that parted against his in shock only stayed still for a moment, but then Ryan was moving, crowding closer to Luke to deepen the kiss they shared. The energy between them was electric, rushing through Luke’s blood and making sure to burn away every doubt of having this man anywhere but in his arms.

“Sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry for waiting to-” Luke couldn’t finish his sentence without kissing the sweet lips again, needing to feel Ryan shiver against him.

“I don’t mind waiting for you,” Ryan confessed quietly, the promise of his words clear in his tone. The devotion the soft-hearted man had for Luke was too much, and he pressed another warm kiss against bruised lips. The ribbon under his palm wrinkled from how long he held Ryan captive in the night air, letting the romantic feel sweep over them in a quiet haze.

Later, while watching Jonathan fumble to tie his ribbon around Evan’s slender wrist, Luke wouldn’t complain about the stupidity of the tradition or it’s old-fashion courting style. Instead, he’d link his fingers between Ryan’s and admire the green satin bow sitting perfectly against the paler skin.

#alfa-angel #Ohmtoonz #Ohmwrecker #Cartoonz #Sultry boys #<3 #Crimson drabblez

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ifdragonscouldtalk · 4 years

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this is for @aurumacadicus’s birthday! i’m about to go to bed so it’ll be on ao3 sometime tomorrow, i’ll post a link to it then, but for now, here’s this! spirk hurt/comfort (with spock whump, obviously). i hope u like it rei

“In, in, in,” Jim chanted under his breath, shoving Spock’s back even though the Vulcan was being wholly compliant with the command to urge him on faster, glancing over his shoulder anxiously. They had lost their pursuers, but he could still hear their footsteps and shouts echoing through the hallways, so they weren’t too far behind. The door snapped shut behind them and he let out a soft breath, fiddling with the lock.

“Captain,” Spock said in a low voice, and something stiffened up Jim’s spine at his tone. “I believe it would be prudent to leave me behind. Your chances of survival without me increase by-”

“Not happening,” he replied firmly as he turned to his friend, his First Officer and lover, taking him in as he slowly sank onto the thin bed, one hand clutched over his thigh and the other clenched into a fist, the only indications that he was in pain. The room they had darted into seemed to be some sort of guest bedroom, which was just as well. Spock wouldn’t have been able to make it much farther on his feet. “I’m not leaving you Spock, and you know it, so go ahead and make your token argument since it makes you feel better, and then put that brain to work thinking on a way out of this mess.” Spock raised a disapproving eyebrow, but it lost its impact in a face pale with bloodloss over eyes glazed with pain.

Jim let out another soft sigh, kneeling in front of him to check the shoddy tourniquet they had wrapped around his upper thigh to stem the bleeding of his nicked femoral artery. The blood would leave a trail right to this room despite them taking precautions to leave several false trails and Jim using his foot to smudge the blood as they ran, making it blend in easier with the dark tiles of the palace, so it was only a matter of time before they were found. They needed to have a plan before then, and preferably before Spock lost consciousness as well. He had already lost more blood than either man was comfortable with.

“Captain, it is very unlikely that I will make it out of this encounter alive.” There was his token argument, and Jim almost smiled, looking up at beloved indulgently as he tightened the tourniquet where it had come loose. He probably wouldn’t have noticed the slight twitch of the Vulcan’s face, a flicker flinch of pain, if he hadn’t been looking for it, if he didn’t know Spock so well by now. He might’ve been offended by the assumption that there was any way he would leave Spock behind, if he didn’t know it was the only way the Vulcan knew how to cope, clinging to logic and trying to save others.

“Well, let’s assume that you will anyway, Mr Spock, and come up with a plan that accounts for that.” Spock’s chest expanded in his version of a sigh before he nodded.

“Very well, Jim. Are our communicators still blocked?” Jim flicked out his comm, both taking a moment to wilt at the static that emerged from it. “Noted. Perhaps, then, the most prudent course of action would be to leave the castle and find shelter until we can discover what has blocked our instruments.”

“We don’t have that kind of time, Spock.” You don’t have that kind of time. They both looked down at the wound in Spock’s leg, bleeding steadily with the pulse of his heartbeat onto the ragged mattress.

It had been a simple diplomatic mission with a warlike race. Their technology was advanced but their weaponry was primitive, swords and spears greeting them on their way through the palace which homed the Queen. Everything had been going fine, until it hadn’t. Jim wasn’t sure what he had said, but the Queen abruptly and unexpectedly decided that she didn’t like them very much, and was going to have them killed for it. Spock had taken a spear to the thigh before either of them could react, and Jim would continue to wonder how he had run on the wound with such speed as they were fleeing the Queen’s guards. Sure, he had seen Spock endure worse wounds, worse pain, but it never ceased to amaze him how much like a pillar he could become in times of need. Jim prayed that there wouldn’t be a day when he would look back and that pillar would be one of salt.

“We need another option,” Jim said as he stood, looking around the room for any useful tool, anything they could use as a weapon or a means of escape.

“We do not have many options.” Spock sounded tired, the skin around his eyes just that much pinched, and a stab of panic struck through Jim’s heart. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing him, not now, not after everything, especially not like this, maybe not ever, so he didn’t bear it, casting it away as he cast his gaze around the room, searching, always searching. “Jim.” Warm hands grabbing his, drawing his attention; the tingling in the back of his mind, gentle, of the bond, nearly unnoticeable due to his psi-null nature. “Jim, there is no point in you dying as well.”

“You’ve not yet died,” Jim pointed out, and knew he was starting to lose it, knew they couldn’t go on like this much longer, pretending that he felt like he was a captain right now when he was just a terrified lover, Romeo in Juliet’s tomb, when his voice trembled just that much. Spock squeezed his hands -- intimate, more intimate than the Vulcan usually allowed, even when they were alone. An expression of trust, of love.

“Then there is no use in you watching as I do,” he replied, soft, always soft. “It will only hurt you, Jim, and that is the one thing I vowed never to do.”

“Stop acting like you’re saying goodbye!” Jim couldn’t help it, ripped his hands away because if they stood here any longer he was going to start crying foolishly.

“We cannot deny the inevitable.”

“No, I was supposed to die first! I’m Human, and I’m the Captain, and I’m supposed to go before you do!” Spock just looked up at him, veiled pain in the lines of his face, blood dripping quiet and slow onto the tiled floor, and Jim collapsed to his knees in it, already stained with green, staring up at the man who had taken him as he was. Something crashed against the door and they both looked over at it, their eyes inexorably drawn back together, teeth clenched, hands fisted. “It’s too late.”

“So it seems,” Spock whispered, and Jim took his hands, bloodied, faintly trembling with his pain, with the emotions he was so incredible at containing.

They didn’t need to say I love you. They already knew, after all. And so, there was silence, until the lock on the door clicked and the panel separating them from the world slid open.

Only to reveal Scotty and Bones, phasers clutched in hand, scanners out, eyes alert. Jim leapt up, one hand still in Spock’s, eyes wide with shock and residual fear. “Bones?”

“Dammit, Jim, I told you to be careful!”

“How did you two find us? How did you even know we were in trouble?”

“Enough about tha’ now, lads, Mr Spock looks like he needs some help,” Scotty cut in, interrupting whatever answer Bones might’ve given. Although, Bones didn’t seem all that inclined to give an answer, having also zeroed in on Spock, tricorder already out and scanning as the door slid closed once more. “Enterprise, four to beam up!”

It was only later, when Spock was groggy from surgery and nauseous from medication, that Jim had the heart to say what had been pushing at his throat for hours, those words they whispered to each other in the night where they couldn’t affect their working lives. “I love you,” he breathed into Spock’s skin, eyes squeezed shut, lips pressed against Spock’s wrist. Intimate, still too intimate, but Spock was allowing it. He must’ve felt worse than he let on -- hell, that was the story of Spock’s, life, wasn’t it?

“I love you as well, ashayam,” Spock breathed back, eyes half-lidded, ears flushed green with the fever Bones was still trying to bring down. And, quieter still: “Thank you for not leaving me.”

“Never,” Jim replied. “But next time we’re hiding, I’ll still let you make that token argument, because I know how much it means to you.” Spock’s eyes slipped closed, still exhausted from the blood loss, the sedative, maybe trying to escape the emotions Jim was definitely projecting at him. “That’s what love is.”

“Indeed.”

#if the ending seems rushed its because it was #talon writes #star trek #spirk #spock whump #star trek tos #star trek fanfic #spock #kirk #reioka

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thegirlwhorunswithwinchesters · 5 years

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The Last Time

Summary: A familiar visitor reappears on your doorstep. Only this time things do not end the way you’re used to.

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: Brief mentions of minor character death, angst (turned to fluff)

Word count: 3.7K

A/N: This was supposed to be a quick drabble at first but then the story took on a life of its own and there was nothing I could do about it. Hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Let me know what you think (:

Beta: @bookshido

Sam knew every detail of the path to your doorstep like the back of his hand. The different shades of grey that crunched underneath his feet as he walked down the pebbled pathway. Every scratch and blemish in the fading paint covering the steps of your front porch. Even the blurry upside-down way your doorknob reflected his face when he looked down to stick his key in the lock.

Light footsteps sounded as soon as he had opened the door. Seconds later, you appeared from the doorway that led to the kitchen, a dripping wet bowl in one hand and a towel in the other. You were barefoot, wearing a yellow summer dress that hugged your frame in a way that made Sam look a little longer than a person was normally supposed to.

“You know, I gave you that key for emergencies.” You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head. “When I’m home I expect everyone to ring the doorbell. Even you.” But your attempt at judgement didn’t last long. Soon, your lips curled up into a smile and you were walking over to the tall man that made your already small entrance hall look like it came straight out of a dollhouse.

Sam didn’t say anything, just smiled back at you. He reached to take the bowl and towel out of your hands before setting them aside. Now both having your hands free, you wrapped your arms around each other in a bone-crushing hug. He could hear you take a deep breath.

“’S good to see you again, Sam,” you mumbled into the fabric of his plaid shirt. His hand rested gently on the back of your head, keeping you there for as long as the moment would allow.

“You too,” came his first words. He pulled away only slightly so you could tilt your head back and he could dip his down to press a soft kiss to your lips. You tasted of vanilla with a hint of cinnamon and he wondered if you had been baking again.

The sound of small feet thumping down the stairs made you both pull away. A young dark-haired boy rounded the corner at the end of the hallway. As soon as his eyes fell on their visitor, he started grinning from ear to ear. “Uncle Sammy!” his high voice roared as he charged forward.

“Hey, big guy!” Sam laughed as he crouched down to meet the boy in a strong embrace. “You look good, Scotty. Been taking care of your aunt here, like I asked?”

The boy nodded heavily, stepping back and using two hands to grab one of Sam’s. “Come on!” he said, practically bouncing up and down in excitement. “I have to show you what I built with the Lego-set I got from auntie Y/N.”

Sam let Scott pull him forward a few steps but then stopped to send you a questioning look. He wasn’t sure if he was asking you to give him a reason not to go or if he was just asking you to come with them. Either way, he didn’t want to leave you alone.

“It’s okay,” you said, sending him a reassuring smile. “You two head upstairs to look at the castle. I’ll finish up the dishes and then I’ll join you.”

“You just ruined the surprise!” Scott scolded you with wide eyes. “Now he already knows what I made.”

You covered your mouth and pretended to be just as torn up about this turn of events as your little nephew seemed to be. Luckily, Sam jumped to your rescue.

“I didn’t hear a thing,” he said, sounding almost convincing to your adult ears. Scott seemed to buy it, though. “Tell me, what did you build?” The genuine look of interest in Sam’s eyes made you smile fondly at him.

“Just come and see!” The little boy was impatiently tugging at Sam’s arm with all his 9-year-old strength.

It wasn’t until the two of them disappeared up the stairs that you stopped watching their interactions. Seeing Scott this excited and genuinely happy made your heart swell.

Though you felt blessed every day to be allowed to care for such a wonderful young boy, the way it came to be was your worst curse. You loved Scotty like a son but he wasn’t yours. He was born to two loving parents, one of them your older sister. They had everything going for them until one day it was all ripped away in a heartbeat by a freak accident. Both your sister and her husband had died, leaving you to raise their then two-year-old son.

It was how you met Sam. He was the one who eventually told you what really happened to your sister and brother-in-law. Ancient evil spirits. A whole new world had opened up to you and it had been a lot to take in after already experiencing such a great loss. It was part of the reason why you and Sam kept in touch. With becoming the primary caretaker of Scott came great responsibility and Sam made sure to check in and tend to your every need. It didn’t take him long to see your strength, and the immense willpower inside of you when it came to making sure Scott got the life he deserved. Admiration grew into something more, something stronger, and Sam found himself making up new excuses every time to knock on your door and stay longer.

You didn’t mind. His company gave you solace. Not to mention Scotty adored him. An occasional visitor became ‘Uncle Sammy’ and the comfort of a friend turned into the warmth of a lover.

Both your lives didn’t allow for more than a handful of weekends together. Afternoons spent in the park were your favorite because of how joyful Scott always was, running ahead of you in the sunlight. Nights falling asleep on Sam’s bare chest, feeling the heat of his skin against your cheek, your head rising and falling with every slow breath he took, came in a close second.

This arrangement between the two of you seemed to have formed by itself as time passed. You were busy with raising your nephew and Sam had the hunting life with his brother that he still put before anyone and anything else. If anyone understood, it was you. Family was most important.

Though he had never said it out loud, you knew you were just as much an escape to Sam as he was to you. The life he lived was rough. Whenever he was with you, he could let go of that for a moment. You loved that the most about your time together; the opportunity to live in the moment. To pretend like nothing else was out there but the three of you.

The tough moments came when the bubble burst. At some point Sam would have to hit the road again. It was a moment you always knew was coming the second he stepped foot in your house. Every time, you pushed it away until it couldn’t be ignored anymore. It was easier that way.

While you put away the last of the dishes, you put away the last of the nagging thoughts of strained goodbyes and Scott’s inevitable little pout as well. This was the part you were supposed to enjoy, and you were reminded of that when you heard the sound of Sam’s voice as you climbed the stairs to the first floor.

Scott was sprawled out on his stomach over the carpet in his bedroom, Sam sitting next to him with one long leg outstretched and the other folded under his body. You stood in the doorway for a moment, watching them in their own little world before they noticed your presence. It was Sam who looked up first, and you wondered if maybe he knew you had been there all along.

“You wanna join us?” he asked. You could see in Sam’s eyes that he wanted nothing more than for the three of you to have a moment together. Then Sam saw your gaze shift to the alarm clock on Scotty’s bedside table and he gave you an understanding nod. “C’mon, little fella,” he said to the still playing boy on the floor as he pushed himself up onto his feet. “Time for bed.”

The sounds of protests from your nephew were instant. You had expected this to be a struggle now that Sam was here. It had been so long since Scott last saw him and of course he wanted to play together a little longer. But to your surprise, Sam needed only a moment to convince the boy they would have the entire next day to do anything he wanted.

“Besides,” Sam concluded his small plea, “the sooner you fall asleep, the sooner the next morning will be here.” He was already folding up Scott’s clothes at this point after the boy had changed into his pajamas.

You watched with that same smile on your face you couldn’t seem to shake when seeing them interact with each other. Sam and Scott disappeared into the bathroom until they came back with Scott’s teeth freshly brushed and Sam’s shirtsleeve stained with some toothpaste. Another few minutes and the sleepy young boy was tucked in and ready to have some sweet dreams. You kissed his forehead and wished him goodnight before leaving the room with Sam.

It wasn’t until you were settled on the couch, each with a bottle of beer in hand, that the two of you really started talking. You had lots to catch up on. Sam told you about the latest hunt he had been on with his brother and Castiel, the angel he had told you about before. He left out all the gory details. Not because he thought you couldn’t handle hearing about those kinds of things, but because he didn’t want to have to relive them again himself. You were his safe haven, he wouldn’t have told you about the hunt at all if you hadn’t asked.

Then it was your turn. You told him mostly things about Scott, not so much about you. He didn’t mind because every little detail about Scott, his friends and the things he had learned at school made him smile. Though whenever you did slip in a little detail about your own day to day life, Sam couldn’t help but lean in a little closer than he had already been doing to listen even more carefully.

You swallowed the last of your beer and licked the bitter taste off your lips. It was the first time a silence had fallen since you both started trying to fill the other in about everything they had missed out on. Sam took the empty bottle from you and put it down next to his on the coffee table before getting up from the couch. At first you thought he was going to get the two of you another beer but then you saw him walk over to the radio in the corner of the small room.

As one of his hands reached to pick a particular CD-case from the dusty stack with a certain determination, the other moved to open the lid of the radio’s built in CD-player. For a second you wondered if the device would even still work, you hadn’t used it in forever. Then the thing produced some static noise and Sam pressed play.

He made sure not to put the volume up too high. It was soft enough not to wake up Scotty but still loud enough for the two of you to enjoy. And as soon as the familiar melody filled your ears, your body filled with warmth in response. It was the first track of your favorite album. You had probably told Sam about it some time in the past, though you couldn’t even remember when. He obviously still did.

Sam was suddenly standing in front of you. Without saying anything, he took your hand and pulled you up out of your seat before tugging you to his chest. Your arms wrapped around his body and his hands moved to rest on your hips. That is how you softly swayed to the music together, your head resting on his chest so you could hear the calming sound of his beating heart.

Once the first song ended and another one started to play, Sam’s voice sounded softly in your ear. “If you want to, you can tell me about what’s been bothering you.”

Your eyebrows pulled together in a frown and you leaned your body back slightly so you could tilt your head and look into his gentle green eyes. “What do you mean?”

One of the corners of Sam’s mouth went up into a half-smile that sent a string of electricity up your spine. “I know that look, Y/N. You can tell me.” He dipped his head down a bit so he could look deeper into your eyes. You wondered if he knew exactly what he was doing to you. “Maybe I can help,” he then offered as a final plea.

You always told Sam everything, and you knew that even if he could not help you, it would still feel nice to get it off your chest. All the while you spoke, the two of you kept swaying. It brought a pleasant sense of calm to your spirit.

“Scotty’s been asking a lot of questions,” you told him. “About his parents. I knew things like this were going to happen. He’s asked brief questions before over the years. ‘Why does Katy from school say it’s weird that I live with my auntie’,” you recalled out loud to him. The memory of the way you felt the day Scott asked you that question when you came to pick him up from school would probably never fully fade.

“Or, ‘Johnny said I can’t play soccer with him because I was raised by a girl. Why is that?’” You didn’t realize you were flailing your arms around until Sam gently grabbed a hold of them and pulled you against his chest again to remind you to take a breath and relax. You did exactly that and this time continued in a much more collected fashion. All this time, Sam didn’t interrupt or try to bring anything into the conversation. He wanted you to get everything out of your system first and you appreciated it greatly.

“I’d always remind him there is nothing wrong with the way he is being raised. I make sure he knows his mom and dad loved him very much and even though he won’t fully understand it all until he’s older, you know I’ve told him they are gone. But recently he hasn’t just been asking me why, he has been asking me about the ‘how’ as well. Some days he won’t drop the subjects for hours at a time and I… I don’t know what to do. What am I supposed to tell him?”

You finally looked up at Sam again. He had been listening intently, you could tell by the familiar look on his face. Once he saw the one on yours, he knew you needed him to speak up.

Normally Sam always had an answer ready for you, but this time you could see his reassuring look falter for only a split second. He had to clear his throat before he said, “Maybe… you could just tell him the truth.”

As soon as the words had left his lips, Sam flinched. He knew there was no ‘just doing something’ when it came to these kinds of things. Despite the fact that you had once told him you tried to hold on to only the happy memories of your sister, the truth didn’t change because of it. And the truth was that she and her husband had died a horrible death. Though not in vain.

“What I’m trying to say is, his mom and dad died saving him.” Sam reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “That should mean something,” he added in a soft whisper.

You took in a deep breath and leaned your head against Sam’s chest again, your cheek against the soft fabric of his shirt. “I know,” you said. “And it does. It means everything. But I can’t tell him.”

“You need more time,” Sam concluded with an understanding nod. “That is perfectly okay, you know. You shouldn’t beat yourself up about it.”

“It’s not that,” you sighed in response. His hands were now rubbing soothing circles over the small of your back and you closed your eyes at the pleasant sensation that was in such contrast to the kind of things your own thoughts were making you feel.

“Or maybe it is, but it’s something else as well. I still feel guilty about what happened. Every day, I wish I had done more to save my sister.” You feel Sam’s body tighten in your embrace and you know he is about to interrupt you so you beat him to it.

“I know,” you reassured him. “I know I shouldn’t feel guilty. There was nothing I could have done, and deep down I’m aware of that. Yet, I still think about it every day and feel at least some sort of responsibility. Misplaced or not, I can’t get it out of my head, even after all these years.” You could feel your head move as Sam drew in a deep breath at your confession. Then you added, “If I can’t, how could I ever expect Scotty to?”

That was when Sam finally understood what you had been trying to say. What you had been worrying about for God knew how many months, or maybe even years. He stopped swaying and pulled away to look at you. “You think if he knows, he will feel like it’s his fault.”

Your eyelids fluttered open to look back at the man in front of you. “It’s a possibility,” you nodded. “And I can’t do that to him. I’m supposed to look after him, Sam. I’m all he has.”

Tears glistered at the brim of your eyes and Sam’s large thumb moved up to brush away a single stray that had escaped down your cheeks. In his own eyes, you noticed a form of conflict, as if he was mulling something over in his head one last time before sharing it with you.

“That’s not true,” he then said. “You have me.” The tone of his voice had shifted only slightly. It was apparent enough to notice but you couldn’t quite place it yet.

“Sam, I-“ you began to protest.

“Shh,” he hushed you softly. He leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Let me finish, please?” His voice was soft, yet heavy with what you now realized was care and love, all directed toward you.

After receiving a nod from you, Sam continued. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long while. Talked it over with Dean multiple times. You are doing incredible taking care of Scotty by yourself. You’re the strongest woman I know, Y/N.” His smile wavered. “But that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to need help more times than I’ve been able to give it to you.”

“What are you saying?” You couldn’t help yourself from speaking, even though Sam had asked you to listen. A million possible answers to your own question surged in your mind, but there was only one you hoped to be the truth.

“I know we always say I come by to check on you two and then I’m gone till next time.” Sam took a deep breath and you could tell he was trying to hide how nervous he was. You had never seen him like this before. He was always very sure of himself, never any doubt evident in his eyes or the way he went about things. This was a new side of him that, just like all the other ones you had explored over the years, you adored instantly.

Then Sam said something that sounded better than any music he could have possibly played for you. “If you’ll have me, I’d like this to be the final ‘next time’. I’d like to stay.”

You were at a loss for words for a long time, astounded by the request you had hoped but never believed would actually make its way into one of your conversations one day. Luckily, Sam didn’t seem to mind your lack of response. He had said what he wanted to say and it was understandable you now had a lot to think about. So he simply pulled you back against his chest and started swaying to the music again. For the longest time you danced in silence. Even after the CD ended, Sam just kept moving the two of you through the quiet.

“What about your brother?” you eventually came with a response. Your voice was soft, barely above a whisper, and you pressed yourself more solidly against Sam’s warm body. For some reason the thought of him being around permanently, made you even more afraid to lose him.

“He’ll have me on speed dial,” Sam said. “If he needs me, I’ll be there. I will never be able to completely stop hunting. We’ve met a lot of people over the years, though. Made a lot of friends that are also hunters. Dean’ll have help.”

That answered one of the many questions you had, most of which you were scared to ask. It was as if Sam could read your mind, because he spoke again and answered one of the most heavily weighing queries.

“Of course there will be a risk. I carry a lot of involuntary baggage I will never be able to shake.”

You knew most of which he was talking about, and you had expected Sam to already know how you felt it about it, too. “We have plenty of that around here,” you said. “I’ll make some room in the garage for you to stash yours.”

“So is that a yes?” Sam leaned back to crack a smile at you and the hesitation in his eyes was gone.

“There have always been risks, Sam.” You wanted him to know, despite your previous attempt at a joke, you had a very realistic understanding of the possible dangers. “With you here, at least I won’t have to face them alone anymore.”

***********

Tagging @cocklesbelli because they asked me to. Is this a taglist? Idk. Either way: Enjoy, love!

#JJ's fics #sam x reader #supernatural #spn oneshot #fluff #angst #sam winchester #sam winchester oneshot #spnfanficpond

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hakka84 · 5 years

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Warren “The Mass-Murderer” Worthington III

Now that I’m trying to catch up with X-Men after I abruptly left in 2012 after the ending of the Dark Angel saga...

You might have no idea how it feels to discover your favorite hero (turned temporarily bad to good to bad to good to bad to good then... I stopped counting before Second Coming even happened) character ever is a mass-murderer that guys like X-fellow Wolverine pale in comparison. Given that I left right after the aforementioned Dark Angel Saga, I did know about Tucker Creek/Tabula Rasa (although I either forgot the detail or in the X-Force issues it wasn’t mentioned the population number), but... hm. So, old metal-winged Warry, as first action of his glorious but short-lived ruling of Apoccydom as King Archangel the First, murdered 5301 people. Ok. I guess... Fine. I mean, who’s the loser who doesn’t wipe out an entire city from the maps on a plan to start-jump evolution at least once in their life? Don’t get me wrong, I love to death (no pun intended) the X-Force/Uncanny X-Force run that ended with the Dark Angel saga, so beam me up to all this Warren-shaped murdering, Scotty.

But then the children he impregnated his Horseman Death with in a creepy one-night stand when he was still spoken for with some very in-love British ninja called Psylocke.. I was saying, those Worthington heirs, raised in the future by a time-traveler child-kidnapper who’s in serious need of reading some good-parenting books (because ordering your adoptive son to remove his twin sisters’s eyes as punishment because he failed to hate humans after you dumped them in a mutant concentration camp of a dark future timeline to have them grow out of that silliness that is “mercy”... is a no-no, in every good dad’s book; even Magneto isn’t that shitty, and he’s the worst father around, if you ask Scarlet Witch!), after some murdering here and there because of reasons (all their own worshipers from clan Akkaba / "out of mercy") go and put a plan in motion that will have all the population on Earth - minus the mutants - wiped out of existence thanks to the handy anger of a not-friendly Celestial. A plan that is successful (Earth is crushed and the Solar Systems loses its lovely third planet), that eventually fails and status quo is fixed back to its proper state (namely = an Earth standing between Venus and Mars) only because 7-something years later a stubborn Summers (what’s with the Summers? Everything’s always about them!) manages to win his anarchist rebellion (against the powers that be in the X-Heaven the mutants are living after Earth went kaboom) and his Uncanny Avengers can finally go back in time and change things so that Thor can stop the Celestial from blowing up Earth. Ah, yes, I was forgetting that the plan also came with the deletion of SEVEN TIMELINES that became one, so... how many bilions (of bilions) of people does this amounts to?

Way to go Warren! I’m so proud of you. As Archangel you surpassed your metaphorical father, that blue-lips small blip in history called a so-not-treating name like APOCALYPSE to ascend to Best Apocalypse ever. Clap clap. To know you will never discover how much you achieved with that night-stand (because I doubt anyone ever told you about the Apocalypse Twins, especially given you still were in your “Formatted Then Installed a Different Operative System Just Please Revert Back Because The Hardware Doesn’t Agree With The New Version” state at the time) brings me such sadness...

But, between you and me: just to be on the safe side, I’d opt for a vasectomy. I’m not sure if you’ll ever get back with Elizabeth again (after breaking up during the X-Man crisis) in the coming Dawn of X era (I will make sacrifices to the gods for it to happen because NOBODY TOUCHES MY FAVORITE X-COUPLE but I’m much pessimistic as of now), but I wouldn’t trust you and the former-ninja-assassin-killing-addict Betsy with an heir, not even adopted - let alone one who shares with you genetics and mutant abilities. We already have an Apocalypse (or not?), and a Galactus, and a Thanos for our mass-murdering evil needs: an Archangel Jr. with Omega-telepathic abilities and Hand-training skills inherited from mommy... hm, no. I’ll think I’ll pass, thank you.

Jean Grey went (or not) Dark Phoenix and ate a star, killing its star system (and its billion of inhabitants). Cyclops went (or not) terrorist. Beast... hmm, he plays with time continuum like we sapiens play with our tv remote control... What Iceman could do to keep up with his best-and-oldest friends? Bring back the Ice Age and kill all life on Earth? I mean, he cannot just twiddle his thumbs until the time comes he’s ready to become that Ice Master guy whose inability to pick his lovers will doom the galaxy. I mean, yes, that would put him right in the winning place, surpassing Jean’s Dark Phoenix’s deeds, and he would stand a chance to beat Nate Grey for the award for X-Man Who Fucked Up The Worst Ever, but that’s just tooooooo forward in the future. He needs to act now! I hear he encased Earth in ice at some point? I still have to get to that part or X-Title, but it’s not enough, my beloved X-icicle.

^ picture above featuring a confused Bobby Drake wondering what he should do to not be snubbed further by the “Mass Murders, Jerks, Terrorists and Friendly Time-place Continuum Threats Club” his O5-friends have founded without giving him a call (or not even sending him a card, how rude of them!). They go and award Professor Xavier the honorary membership* and him, the reliable joker and beer-cooler of the group, just nothing? Not a fancy certificate on precious paper with gold engravings to hang next to the accountant certification to make papa William and mama Madeline proud or to show to potential new lovers? Not even an invite to crash at the inauguration party? They didn’t even save him a Phoenix-shaped expensive canape or a piece of the Archangel-shaped blue and purple cake!

* Seriously, Charlie’s a jerk, a creep (coff loving 15yrs JeanGrey coff) a manipulative liar and someone who raised scared children into ruthless soldiers (coff Scott Summers coff) and erased the memory of the very existence of teens who died in the field (coff Gabriel Summers coff), but, recent-O5-strictly speaking...

Brought to you by 20th Century X, with supervision of the Cameron Hodge Right and in collaboration of Apocalypse Production, only on Mojo Prime:

The high-flying Angel Gets Mass-Murdererer: the series. S2, E10: That one time when it was Xavier’s Fault that I got my metal wings spattered with blood and body bits and nor I nor my closest friends remember it happening because our putative father whom we trusted for the most of our lives manipulated our minds, including the one of our own Omega-level telepatic one/fifth, into forgetting.

#Warren Worthington III #x-men #bobby drake

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kiss-my-freckle · 5 years

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Families, biological and chosen, both central to the series.

“This is about the children.” - Ranko Zamani, 1x1

I was gonna do a gif set for Guillermo Rizal, but Cooper’s conversation with Liz at the end of the episode offered too much bounce back and required my added input about the scenes themselves and their dialogues.

Forewarning - this is a lengthy post.

Tom, Liz, and Agnes: Chosen family.

Liz [6x20]: Before we had Agnes, I thought Tom and I were gonna adopt, that family had nothing to do with biology.

Pointing out the fact that Agnes’ foreshadow with the unicorn first came with this bit of conversation. A storyline that’s been brewing since season three.

And because it’s been brewing since then, I’d like to point out Red’s dialogues because they support an issue of paternity where Agnes is concerned.

"We" is an ambiguous pronoun.

In 3x12, we had these dialogues.

Red: I assume Tom is the father. Liz: I haven’t told him. Uh. He’s still figuring his life out.

In 3x14, we had these dialogues.

Liz: You and Tom agree on something. Red: He wants you to keep the baby?

In 3x16, we had these dialogues.

Red: How are you feeling? Liz: We’ve decided to keep the baby. Red: We? Liz: I’ve accepted Tom’s proposal. We’re gonna get married. Red: Right.

For someone like Red, with his previous dialogues and knowledge of how adoption works, his question of "we" offers two scenarios. Either he suspected Liz was in a relationship with someone other than Tom, or suspected someone else to be the father of Agnes. To assume Tom is the father, and be told Tom wants Liz to keep the baby, it's an obvious "we." Or is it?

Back to Red’s 3x14 dialogue.

Cooper [6x20]: The parents of Rizal’s children. No one would blame them for walking away from those kids.

The non-biological, chosen family.

Ressler: According to the report, the two of you are not genetically related to your daughter. Ben Mitchell: What? Sara Mitchell: No. Ressler: I’m sorry, but we ran the test several times. - Liz: It isn’t just you. Neither you nor the Mitchells are biologically related to either of the girls. Mark Walker: You’re telling us what - that we got some other couple’s eggs by mistake?

Opposite parallel. Because Tom isn’t the father of Agnes.

Liz: You and Tom agree on something. Red: He wants you to keep the baby?

Pushing us to Red’s dialogue in 3x17.

The focus to Liz’s baby bump was purposeful.

Red: You were wrong about him once. What makes you so sure you’re not wrong this time? Do you really want your child to pay the price for that mistake for the rest of his or her life?

Liz: I am attempting to build a life with [the father of my child.] A normal life with two parents who love one another. With everything you know about me, can’t you see that? Can’t you see how important that is to me? To my child?

The father of her child is back at the church.

The foreshadow of danger to come.

In the context of Brimley's dialogue, he was speaking of parent and child.

Brimley [6x20]: So much for making this a family business. Hand it over. Hood, hive, the works. You want something done right, you gotta do it yourself. Nothing hurts so bad as when a child disappoints. Like being impaled by a unicorn.

This means Agnes will be impaling Liz with a "disappointment" unicorn.

Back to 3x17 and its dialogues.

Liz: What am I doing? Cooper: You’re trusting Tom. Taking a leap of faith. One you know could end in disappointment. But it’s because you love him.

“So much for making this a family business.”

Liz and Red.

Tom and Scottie.

“Family. Business.”

Back to Cooper’s conversation, which bounces back heavy.

Challenges.

Cooper [6x20]: Every family has challenges. God knows yours with Reddington has more than most.

Cooper [3x17]: Now, each choice brings with it blessings as well as hardships. Choosing a partner means choosing that person’s life to become your life. Their joy becomes your joy, as do their burdens.

Walking away.

Cooper [6x20]: No one would blame you if you chose to walk away from them, but you never will. And not because you can’t. Because you don’t want to. Because in spite of his -

Tom [3x17]: But there are things that I did, and - and - and I might be done with those things, but I can’t promise you that those things are done with me. And I can’t promise you that it’s not gonna happen tomorrow or next week or - or five years from now. And I would understand, frankly, if you didn’t want to deal with any of -

Faith. Cooper [6x20]: In spite of everything, he’s committed to you, he loves you, and he has faith in you. And I think you have the same for him.

Cooper [3x17]: You’re trusting Tom. Taking a leap of faith. One you know could end in disappointment. But it’s because you love him.

Furthered by Mr. Kaplan’s dialogue, which offers a double interpretation.

Kate [4x18]: Please, do what your mother never had the courage to do until it was too late. Walk away from Raymond.

Again, “walking away.”

Cooper [6x20]: No one would blame you if you chose to walk away from them, but you never will.

Red is not the real Raymond Reddington, he’s Katarina Rostova. Kate’s bit of dialogue places Tom at the center despite its double interpretation.

Please, do what your mother never had the courage to do until it was too late. Walk away from Raymond. (herself)

The danger of oneself, furthered by Kate’s dialogue in 3x23.

Kate: I didn’t betray you. I did what I’ve always done - protected you - this time, from yourself.

Furthered even more by Red’s dialogue in 5x9.

Liz: I killed some men. Doesn’t matter that they were bad. That it was them or me. What matters is that I did it and I was good at it. And I didn’t lose any sleep over it. Red: You will. One of these nights you will. It’s just a matter of when. Liz: Maybe. Later. After I’ve crossed the abyss. But from the side I’m on now, all that matters is that I’m healed and I’m back. And I’m coming for Tom’s killers. Like I said, I couldn’t keep my promise. Can you forgive me? Red: Yes. Will you be able to forgive yourself?

The second interpretation, its very context. Raymond wasn’t Katarina’s parent, he was her lover. Again, placing Tom at the very center. I could list any number of times Red warned Liz about Tom, but I won’t. I’ll just take it back to 4x17.

Red: As I feared would happen, elements from Katarina’s past are circling Elizabeth like a pack of wolves in the night. I put Tom Keen in her life to keep an eye on her, and he married her. Kate: This isn’t about Tom Keen. It’s about your need for control. Red: Indeed. I need to control the danger to Elizabeth. I’ve built a vast criminal network predicated on that very principal. It’s time to live up to my mission statement.

Kate will be wrong about Tom.

Red, Liz, and Agnes: Biological family.

Agnes’ foreshadow with the unicorn continued in Liz’s scene with Red. Her conversation with Cooper bounces back to their 4x22 motel scene.

Liz [6x20]: Family? Is that what we are? I’m not so sure.

Liz [4x22]: But anger and fear and a certain amount of hatred are all normal in a family. And that’s what we are.

“Means” Several dialogues for this bit, I’ll just be adding two.

Liz [6x20]: I’ve been thinking about it a lot recently, and, uh - I don’t think I know what “family” even means.

Liz [5x1]: Well, you are my father and - Oh, my God, that sentence and all that it means.

Ilya: It is a mystery, right? So, we give them the answer. Katarina: What does that mean?

Bloodlines. Again, back to 4x22.

Liz: Before we had Agnes, I thought Tom and I were gonna adopt, that family had nothing to do with biology. Cooper: If this case taught us anything, it’s that it doesn’t. Family isn’t about bloodlines.

Liz [4x22]: Why didn’t you just tell me who you were? Why keep it a secret? Come into my life, give up everything, go broke trying to protect me, and not tell me you’re my -

Liz [4x22]: I’m angry at you, at who I am, at the fact that I want to help you despite everything you’ve done to me and to yourself.

Everything Red’s done to himself. Katarina “becoming Reddington.”

Liz [4x22]: What was it you said? A father who’s a career criminal [and a mother who died of weakness and shame.]

Add in their Bloodstream soundtrack for bloodlines.

♪ Wake up and look me in the eyes again ♪

Windows to the soul. That’s why they often do close-ups of Red’s eyes. Why he wears special glasses to avoid the retinal scan at the airport in 3x21. ♪ I need to feel your hand upon my face ♪

Red [1x14]: I can - I can still smell the nape of her neck, [feel her little fingers on my cheek], her whisper in my ear.

♪ And then the silence surrounds you ♪

The silence of secrets. The silence Liz found when she was seeking answers about her mother back in season two. The Sound of Silence soundtrack in 5x8 only adding to that.

♪ Two minds and all the places they have been ♪

Two minds. Their Never Tear Us Apart soundtrack in 6x19. “Two worlds collided.” Raymond and Katarina.

♪ I think I might’ve inhaled you ♪

Red [3x1]: She’s as much a part of you as the air you breathe.

Furthered by Liz’s dialogue.

Liz [6x20]: You won’t stay angry with me. I know you think you will, but you won’t. Parents don’t stay angry with their children. Or their grandchildren. And that’s who you are to us. It doesn’t matter who you were. This is who you are and who you’ll always be.

It doesn’t matter who Red was. He can change his face, but not his DNA. He’ll always be Liz’s biological parent and Agnes’ biological grandparent.

Back to Cooper’s dialogue.

Challenges.

Cooper [6x20]: Every family has challenges. God knows yours with Reddington has more than most.

Liz [4x18]: Finding out truths about who you really are is never easy.

Walking away.

Cooper [6x20]: No one would blame you if you chose to walk away from them, but you never will.

Liz [4x22]: Walk away? Are you serious? How can you be so smart and so clueless? Yes, I’m terrified. I’m angry. I’m angry at you, at who I am, at the fact that I want to help you despite everything you’ve done to me and to yourself. But anger and fear and a certain amount of hatred are all normal in a family. And that’s what we are. And I’m not gonna walk away from that. Faith.

Cooper [6x20]: And not because you can’t. Because you don’t want to. Because in spite of his - In spite of everything, he’s committed to you, he loves you, and he has faith in you. And I think you have the same for him.

Red [4x6]: I just wanted to thank you for trusting me, trusting the plan. I understand what a - a leap of faith it must have been.

“Not really, considering what was at stake.” - Liz, 4x6

Tom [5x8]: Could we just put a stake in it? You go first. Who’s in the suitcase?

Back to that danger foreshadowed.

Liz [6x20]: I left Agnes with Scottie because I was afraid of who you were. But I’m not anymore. Scottie won’t have to train Agnes. Because Agnes won’t be with her. I’m bringing her home.

“Training” Agnes.

Liz [5x9]: She loves Cheerios, and Thomas the Train in the morning.

Kat [6x22]: Scottie wanted me to tell you she’ll bring over the rest of her things in the morning.

Liz believing Red is Ilya. That’s the issue.

Stranger: And she believed him? Red: She did. So much so that she’s decided it’s safe to bring her daughter home.

Ilya is of danger to Agnes.

Red: I want this done before Masha’s daughter comes home.

That’s why he wants it done before she comes home.

Red: Your mother was not as bad as - If she were here, I’m sure she’d tell you she made so many mistakes. She was scared and uncertain and just trying to do the best she could. Bring Agnes home, Elizabeth. Liz: If there’s any risk - Red: There isn’t. Bring her home.

Katarina isn’t of danger. Ilya is. That’s why there’s no danger to Masha. Also why Red went to Paris. "Raymond” is Katarina, "Katarina” is Ilya. This falls to Tom’s side of Agnes’ family tree - while adding in the issue of paternity. This will break Liz’s second memory wipe wide open. The first tap of my Tom-Domino theory. Liz finding out Tom isn’t the father of Agnes will most certainly cause her to question who is and why she can’t remember having sex with him. I also believe this will tie in Red’s plan with Dr. Stark, as I believe he was planning to donate to Agnes.

Agnes’ paternity issue taking us back to Kirk’s arc.

Kirk, Liz, and Agnes: Chosen family.

Tying in both chosen and biological with Rederina and Keenler baby.

Liz [4x7]: The test results showed something else. I’m not your daughter.

Kirk [4x8]: Mistake? It wasn’t a mistake. No. It was altered by Reddington.

He’s right. They were altered by Reddington, who is Katarina.

Kirk: I had proof that she was my daughter. A DNA test. Red: You saw what Katarina wanted you to see.

Fabrications.

Liz: You know, I really believed he was my father. Red: You had every reason to.

Liz had every reason to believe Kirk was her father. Memories at the Summer Palace. Kirk’s marriage to her mother. A fabricated DNA report.

Because of Krilov, memories are just as easy to fabricate as DNA reports. That’s why Liz has every reason to believe Tom is the father of Agnes.

Silver linings. Hope in dark clouds. Because a storm is coming.

♪ And everyone thinks I dodged a bullet But I think I shot the gun ♪

The chosen family. Keenler baby.

Kirk [4x8] -

Liz: Kirk? Red: Gone. Liz: Dead? Red: Gone.

Tom [3x14] -

Liz: You and Tom agree on something. Red: He wants you to keep the baby?

Guillermo Rizal [6x20] -

Cooper: The parents of Rizal’s children. No one would blame them for walking away from those kids.

The biological family. Rederina.

Kirk [4x8] -

Red: Yes, Elizabeth is my daughter.

Tom [4x8 & 6x19] -

Tom: So it worked? Red: Yes.

Imposter Red: Yes. It worked.

Guillermo Rizal [6x20] -

Liz: You won’t stay angry with me. I know you think you will, but you won’t. Parents don’t stay angry with their children. Or their grandchildren. And that’s who you are to us. It doesn’t matter who you were. This is who you are and who you’ll always be.

Secret accounts.

Katarina & Raymond.

Katarina: Don’t you understand? He was my asset. I’d been siphoning intel off of him for years. You don’t think we had plans in place to destroy him if he ever found out that he was sleeping with the enemy? Ilya: Of course they did. Katarina: Money in secret accounts. Paper trails of payoffs. Passports in safety-deposit boxes - evidence that I didn’t steal his secrets, but that he shared them with me. Ilya: Alternate history.

The Travel Agency.

Liz: After the accident, somehow, somewhere, there was a slip-up, and she picked up on it. - Eleanor: I was at the bank, trying to figure out how to keep up with the medical bills - your medical bills - when the bank manager asked me why I hadn’t dipped into your personal account. Calvin: What account? Eleanor, I don’t understand. Eleanor: That’s exactly what I said. - Liz: She stumbled onto his finances. - Eleanor: I was able to connect the dots by following the money. Your travels were like a map.

Tom & Liz.

[Medical bills]

Liz: Do you know what Tom was talking about? When he said he figured it out? Red: Tom was a man of [many truths]. Which of those he was going to divulge, I can’t say.

Insert Dr. Krilov.

Impalement, disappointment.

Katarina & Masha.

Red: But I let my hopes convince me that - you’d never betray me like that.

Samar & Aram.

[The Keenler-Saram/Liz-Samar parallel]

Ressler: She’s alive, but she went a long time without oxygen. I mean, that was after she was somehow impaled. Cooper: Did they say how long she would be on a respirator? Ressler: All they said was that she can’t breathe on her own. And they don’t know if she ever will.

Red: What I really can’t get is how you used Agent Mojtabai, how you manipulated him into telling you about Samar’s condition. He told you so as to protect her, but because of you, he has to live with the fact that he betrayed her, that his words put a target on her back, that he is the reason that they will never be together again. Aram trusted you, and because of that trust, his life has been devastated.

Liz & Agnes.

Being impaled by a unicorn.

Liz: Anxious isn’t really the right word. It’s more like heightened. Like, I can feel every breath. I’m not used to that.

[“All they said was that she can’t breathe on her own.”]

With Ressler by her side, she’s not breathing on her own.

Soundtrack. The Lumineers, This Must Be The Place.

The lyrics were written by David Byrne of Talking Heads.

Family & Home.

♪ I'm just an animal looking for a home and Share the same space for a minute or two And you love me till my heart stops Love me till I'm dead ♪

For the chosen family of Tom, Liz, and Agnes.

Tom: I never knew my parents either. I think that’s what made Liz and I work. You know, it was the first time either of us felt like ... family.

Tom: Just go to the house. Meet me there, and when it’s safe, babe, I’m gonna explain everything.

For the biological family of Red, Liz, and Agnes.

Red: When I look at you, that’s what I see. I see my way home.

Masha: When are you coming home? Katarina: It’s gonna take a while. Mama has some work to do.

#Anti-Tom Keen #Anti-Keen2 #Rederina #Keenler baby theory

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critterreads · 6 years

Text

Those Nights

This is a Fourzeroladd fic based on this song. Thx to @firstaidquarters for the ship and ideas. Enjoy.

Warning: mention of suicidal thoughts.

The night was only beginning, pacing and heated yelling could be heard through the household. But soon the yelling subsided leaving Craig tired and wanting to ignore what happened between him and Scotty. For only being roommates they sure did find ways to be concerned about the other, whether it was pointless or a troubling matter. Then again, this is what happens when you’ve know the person for most of your life.

Craig flopped onto the the couch, taking his glasses off to rub his eyes. “Scott, you just can’t go and do that. They’re people who care about you.” The brit now readjusting his glasses back on to see the other standing there with a look of realization.

Scotty shuffled over and sat next to him on the couch. He looked around the room before settling on Craig's sky blue yet spearmint eyes, feeling his heart flutter from their gracious gaze. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that in the first place. ... Can you please forgive me?"

"Of course I forgive you, Scott. Just ... don't do it again, please." Tossing his head back to rest on the cushion.

Sitting there on the couch watching a TV show they both liked, it had Scotty thinking about those nights. Suddenly Craig spoke with a nostalgic tone.

"I remember when we used to laugh about nothing at all. It was better than going mad from trying to solve all the problems we're going through, Forget 'em all. Cause on those nights we would stand and never fall, together we faced it all." Looking at Scotty, leaning on the arm of the couch. "Remember when we'd, stay up late and we'd talk all night in a dark room lit by the TV light." He sighed. "Through all the hard times in my life, those nights kept me alive."

Scotty rubbed the back of his neck, he never thought Craig would even remember 'those nights'. He smiled and looked over to see him sitting there before he spoke.

"I remember when we used to drive anywhere but here, as long as we'd forget our lives. We were so young and confused that we didn't know to laugh or cry. Those nights were ours, they will live and never die, together we'd stand forever. Remember when we'd listen to the radio play all night. I didn't want to go home to another fight. Through all the hard times in my life, those nights kept me alive." Looking Craig in the eyes and feeling a blush creep up to his cheeks. "Those nights belong to us."

Craig sat there in a daze. He never realized how much Scotty and him relied on each other through their hard times. He also noticed the faded pink on Scotty's face and began to wonder if he had feelings for him. I mean, Craig did have feelings for him as well. He was kicked out of his house because of it, abandoned by his family for being him. Its one of the reasons that moved in with Scotty when he was 16, but now he is 23 and still living with him and yet never confessed his love.

It was now 1 in the morning, Scotty didn't expect Craig to leave after their talk. But he knew where he was, even though they just had a talk about Scotty's issues. He quickly grabed the the keys and set off to the bar that Craig most likely walked to, since it was only 5 blocks away. One thing that kept running through his mind is why? Why did he feel the need to go drink. It wasn't like him to go off and do that. "Did I say something wrong? What did I do? Does he hate me now?"

Finally pulling up to the bar and walking in, he spots Craig immediately and he is wasted. 3 beer bottles and 7 shot glasses layed empty in front of him, it would have been 8 if Craig didn't see Scotty standing at the entrance.

As Scotty dragged Craig into the car, all he could hear was Craig talking and slurring about something from his childhood. At first it was about the first girlfriend he had and how something wasn't right when they were together. He ketp on going on and on about his middle school date experiences he had but when he jumped to his high school years, it was a different story. Now he explained that he knew he was bi by freshman year but never told anyone about it, even Scotty and regretted it. But when he told his parents, they kicked him out.

To Scotty this was all new to him, all of it. He never knew that was the real reason for a lot of things. Scotty's thoughts were racing and they would have continued if Craig didn't catch his attention with a question.

"There's nothing wrong with us ... right?" He said with slight slurr.

Scotty looked over at him with a very confused look. "What do you mean?"

He sighed and leaned his head back. "I don't know how to say it but I've always loved you, not just brotherly love either. I just never got the guts too say it, I guess it took me getting drunk and thing of 'those nights'."

Scotty just smiled, the car was now parked outside their house and Craig just ketp on rambling about all the ways he loves him. He put a finger over Craig's mouth to quite him. "There's nothing wrong."

Craig's face lit up, he was so excited that when he tried to get out of the car he sliped and fell onto the sidewalk. "Ow!" Scotty just rolled his eyes and got out of the car to help his drunk lover off of the ground.

Im am really sorry Bels that it took me this long to finish it. But I hope you enjoy it. ;)

#bbs #bbs squad #fourzer0seven #fourzeroladd #mini ladd #critter writes #bbs fanfic #bbs fanfiction

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takadasaiko · 6 years

Text

Breathe Again Beneath the Flames: Chapter Twenty-Five

FFN II AO3

Summary: Reddington and Katarina pay the Hargraves a visit, Agnes has time with her grandpa, and the team gets ahold of Garvey.

Chapter Twenty-Five

It had all come down to this. Every ache, every setback, and there they were poised and ready to bring Ian Garvey in. She wouldn't admit it out loud to Cooper, but she was glad that Halcyon was leading the op. She knew that her in-law's company still answered to the law, but they tended to push the limits of those laws in ways that the FBI couldn't. She was more than willing to push those limits if it would bring Garvey in.

Liz looked out over the park that she, her team, and the Halcyon operatives that answered to Nez Rowan were hidden in. Some were in plain clothes, filling the space and ready to act, while others - like she and Nez - were crouched just out of view so that a nervous and pacing Jennifer Reddington wouldn't catch sight of them. It had been a risk turning her loose with the knowledge she had now, but it had been a calculated one. If they could take Garvey separately from her they would, but if they couldn't she would take a trip to Halcyon's DC offices to be held until they were certain she wasn't a risk. Jennifer knew Tom was alive. That within itself was a dangerous piece of knowledge.

"I'll admit I'm surprised to see you managed to talk Tom out of being here. Getting Garvey has been a focus for… a while now."

Liz glanced over to where Nez was watching her and she squeezed her eyes shut hard, grimacing against the last conversation she and Tom had had before she had left out. "I wouldn't bet on getting a second chance at him sitting back."

"Maybe you should have saved it for another time," Nez said lightly and Liz snorted.

"Too many things can go wrong here." And they could. One stray bullet, one wrong move and she would be reliving that night in their apartment nearly a year and a half before. It didn't take much to let her mind wander to seeing him laid out on one of the sidewalks here, catching the wrong end of the op, and blood pooling around and she screamed his name. It was something she couldn't live with, and even the idea of it was making it hard to focus on what she needed to do.

"That's everywhere and everything in our line of work."

"He got it. Didn't like it, but he understood why I needed this."

Nez hummed softly. "Solomon wasn't thrilled about getting benched either. He's still healing though. Tom is…. you didn't see him before. He's better. He would have been good for this."

Liz made a small sound of acknowledgement. It hadn't been fair to ask him, and she'd admitted that. It hadn't changed anything, but at least she had admitted it to him. Somehow she needed to find a way to accept the dangers they faced. Somehow. After they had Garvey in custody. After he was cuffed in an interrogation room and couldn't lay a hand on the man that Liz loved. Tom wasn't the innocent, wide-eyed teacher that she had thought she had married the first time, but there was something in her that still needed to protect him. He might not need it, not anymore than she did at any rate, but she did. She needed to protect him and keep him safe in any way that she could.

Liz tried for a smile, but was distracted as Dumont's voice sounded over the comm in her ear. "Got eyes on Garvey approaching from the south."

"Okay, let's go," Nez murmured and Liz saw her shift around for a different viewpoint.

Liz stayed where she was, gun clutched in her hand and her eyes on Jennifer. She had seen Garvey as well and she moved towards him. Liz could hear the conversation filtering through the comm, Jennifer's voice sharp and aggressive as she laid out the accusations that she had heard against him. Garvey watched her, his stance growing increasingly more tense with every fact laid out, and he reached out to her, close enough that his voice carried over the bug. "Keen doesn't know what she's talking about, and her team-"

"The guy had scars. He said you tried to kill him, that you-"

"What man?"

"Keen's husband, I guess. He called her his wife and said-"

"That's impossible."

Liz looked over to Nez and the other woman's expression was tight. "Go. Take him now," Nez ordered.

Everyone moved forward, shouts from both sides filling the air. Halcyon operatives boxed Garvey in on either side of the bridge and Jennifer instantly threw her hands in the air, terror written across her face.

"You brought them here?" Garvey demanded and Jennifer shook her head.

"No, I didn't… I don't know how…" She turned and Liz found those sharp blue eyes on her. "You."

Garvey barked a rough laugh, his gaze landing on Ressler, Samar, and finally Liz, lingering there even as an operative jerked his arms behind his back and cuffed him. "Whatever charges you think you've got, you'll never make them stick, Agent Keen."

Liz let the corners of her mouth drift up, her gaze not wavering from his. "Good thing it's not the FBI taking you into custody then, isn't it?"

There was something satisfying about the way the smug expression slipped from his face as he stared at her and Nez came to join her. "Thisis what Halcyon wanted with you, Garvey," she said dangerously and motioned. "Take him in."

Well, it looked like Liz wasn't the only one letting things get personal. There was an intensity in Nez's eyes when she turned. "I'm going to escort Roth to our local offices."

"Taking her to the black site would be a mistake," Liz agreed.

Nez's eyes flickered to look behind her. "I know you and Tom trust your team, but they're still cops. If you think they're going to be uncomfortable with whatever happens next, now's the time to make that call."

"I'd trust them with my life," Liz said firmly and Nez nodded, stepping away with Jennifer and leaving Liz to laisant between the two groups.

"They think they're playing us," Katarina murmured and Reddington glanced over to where she was perched on the arm of the couch, blue eyes fixed on him.

"I'd be more surprised if they didn't try something," he answered after a moment. "Elizabeth is stubborn and her husband is reckless."

"I've seen enough from him to know he comes from the same world we do, even without Scottie and Howard along the way. I'm a little surprised you ever let it get that far with them."

Reddington snorted, memories playing out across his mind of the first time he had directly laid eyes on Tom Keen. Until the wedding he had only seen photographs and files and reports. He had tried to stay away, to give Elizabeth space in a time when she needed it. McCready had assured him that his operative was the best fit for what he needed. No family, no real need for anything outside the job. It was everything to him, and as Reddington had looked into the cold stare of the operative in the photo he had believed the Major. He had relied on it, even when news started to trickle in that Keen had gotten close to Elizabeth. Reddington had ended the contract and McCready had told him that the operative was out. Maybe he had even thought that he was if Tom had managed to run small ops in between his attempt at playing house. It was when the news of the engagement came through that Reddington knew Keen hadn't left. He hadn't broken things off, and he could still remember the blinding rage as he had barreled back to the United States and to that little church in Elizabeth's hometown where she stood, dressed in white and with a smile that could lighten the darkest of souls. Tom Keen hadn't mattered then, or at least not as much as the realization that if Reddington had him killed right then that it would break Elizabeth's heart. McCready's top operative had caused him a great deal of grief over the years, but even now there was an undeniable fact in that he made Elizabeth happy, and that kept Red from feeling too much regret that he had let him live that day, or even the days since then. He had seen the pain and the suffering and the darkness she had sunk into when she had truly thought he was dead, and as frustrating as Tom was, Reddington would rather live with that than see Elizabeth suffer through that all over again.

"Or perhaps you knew then?" Katarina prompted, pulling Reddington from his thoughts.

"Knew what?"

"That he was the Hargrave boy."

"I didn't know."

There was an intensity in her expression that he hadn't quite forgotten, but his memory had dulled over time. Now that they were in the same room again he could feel it cutting like a knife. "Fate has a funny sense of humour then," she said at last and finally broke contact, falling back onto the couch with her knees draped over the arm. "Maybe there was no escaping this. You, me, Scottie, and Howard. Even the children now. He was the only one that slipped away, lucky bastard."

Red didn't have to question who she was referring to. He was the shadow looming over them both with those damn bones exposed. The one that could expose lies that he had both constructed for himself and a handful that had been constructed for him. Elizabeth's father and one of Katarina's lovers. He could still remember the way she'd looked at him, and even now his chest tightened just a little over it. "I know you loved him," he said softly, the words not quite what he had had in mind when he opened his mouth.

"Love may be a bit much," Katarina answered in a tone he knew well. "Love is always a bit much."

"But you did love him."

She sat up, the movement sudden. "So did you, in your way. Do you really want to talk about this?"

"You brought him up."

She waved it off and flopped again. "He's dead and gone. What are we going to do about the children?"

Reddington snorted, his gaze sweeping towards the window of the room they had chosen to meet in. "If they're digging into the bones I'll make good in my promise to them."

"And if they don't give?"

"They will. They won't like it, but they'll do as they're told." From what he understood Tom wouldn't be of much use without the medication that Whitehall provided him with. Migraines, tremors, and dizziness were only the first signs and enough to take him out of play. According to the records he had obtained, they never expected Tom's health to be what it once was. Red supposed dying could have that effect of a person.

Katarina's lips stretched at the corners. "That's something I've always appreciated about you. Her safety was more important than her affection."

"I will always do whatever I think is necessary to keep her alive," Red murmured.

His gaze shifted over to meet hers and she stood, crossing the space between them. She stopped when she reached him, her hands reaching to grip his jacket lightly. "She may not have been yours, but you always treated her as if she was."

"I wanted her to be," his confession left him on a breath. She always did know how to coax the truth out of him.

"I know." Katarina's hand moved up to his face and he felt her draw him in, her lips against his and for just a moment the world melted away.

The knock on the door forced them apart and Reddington cleared his throat. "Yes?"

Dembe appeared as the door opened, his expression serious. "I've just received word that Ian Garvey has been taken into custody in DC."

Reddington straightened. "By the FBI?"

"No. By Halcyon."

Well, now they knew what Elizabeth had been planning. They weren't looking into his past, but they had certainly gone out of their way to keep him out of the loop in bringing in Garvey, and he needed to know why.

"Garvey can provide pieces of intel that we need to find a way into the Cabal," Katarina said, already pulling her phone out and dialing. She turned as it rang in her ear. "Scottie, I hear Masha and Christopher have Garvey. No more games from either of us. We need to meet."

Life had always been a game of moves and countermoves in the world that he had existed in. He had learned to adjust early on when his father had moved them - escaped with them - from Communist-occupied Poland to the United States. He had changed their name and this many years later Howard could barely recall the finer details of his life before they had come to this country. There was one exception to that. The memory of that little room in their shabby apartment where he had curled up and listened to Voice of America was still crystal clear. He could recall every detail of the space, every feeling as music and talk filtered over the station and he had dreamed of something more. There was more, he knew that without a doubt now, and he'd fought for it. He was still fighting for it, and he'd be damned if he would let anyone outmaneuver him.

"Grandma said it was Daddy's when he was little."

Agnes' voice pulled Howard out of his thoughts and he saw his little granddaughter present the stuffed bear that had replaced her puppy the last several days to Red from her place at the foot of Howard's bed. Reddington, all charm despite the threats looming, smiled for her. "You had one very similar when you stayed with me."

Agnes hugged the bear. "Miss Candy said I could only bring one today."

Reddington smiled, his gaze shifting over to Howard and the other man knew he had a glare latched onto him. He pulled himself up as much as he could in his hospital bed, not missing the constant, weary gaze from Katarina Rostova in the corner. She had never liked him, but the feeling was mutual, despite the fact that they were both well aware of the other's worth when it came down to it. They'd proven that already.

The man he'd counted as a friend for decades sighed. "It doesn't need to be this way, Howard. You and I both know what secrets can do to people. Elizabeth has been through enough."

"You're protecting yourself, not her."

"You do sound like your son. Or he sounds like you. Either way."

Agnes slipped off the bed and started over to Katarina, her dark eyes sharp and focused, and it took half a beat before Howard was able to tear his eyes away. Scottie was only a shout away if Katarina looked like she was going to be a threat. "He knows you and so do I. Do you plan to make good on your threat?"

That smile didn't fade. "What's the play here, Howard? Scottie gives over enough information to allow us to believe that she's not hiding anything while you play the skeptic? This ruse is usually flipped."

"We're just trying to protect our boy, Red. You're the one threatening."

"Enough," Katarina grumbled and Howard's attention snapped to her, making sure her tone wasn't directed at Agnes. The little girl was sitting quietly without appearing bothered by the conversation around her. Katarina was ignoring Agnes in turn, her gaze shifting between the two old friends. "Scottie understands the stakes, Howard. Do you?"

Whatever response he might have given was cut short as Scottie strode back into the room with her cellphone in hand. "I still can't reach Tom, but Nez picked up." Her dark gaze slid over and Howard found himself with only a moment's warning. "They've been running an op after Garvey."

"And you knew nothing about that?" Reddington asked pointedly.

"We wouldn't divulge your secret and Tom and Liz would stop looking into it. Thatwas our deal," Scottie snapped irritably, but her mask of cool was replaced almost immediately. "But no. We didn't know what they were up to."

Katarina studied her for a moment, but finally drew back. "If they have him, this works in all of our favour. He has intel."

"And we'll get to that. I'm meeting Nez at the DC office. I assume you're joining?"

"Scottie-"

His wife turned towards him and Howard's argument died before it left his lips. She covered the space between them and took his hand, leaning down into a kiss. Promises were made there, but even as they broke Howard felt what was left of his breath leave in a sigh. She would handle the leg work while he couldn't, and in doing so, she would draw Red and Katarina away. If they needed them or not for this war Kat was so sure was coming, that was yet to be seen. Howard wasn't so certain as Scottie was by this point.

"I'll be back soon," she promised. "Agnes, you'll take good care of him?"

The three-year-old nodded soberly. Scottie pressed one more kiss to his lips before straightening and Katarina shot him a look on the way out.

"Grandpa?"

Howard looked over and Agnes was crawling onto his bed. Her little nose was scrunched up in thought and she clutched her father's childhood toy to her chest. She didn't say anything right away, though, and Howard reached out, instantly finding his granddaughter closer so that she could curl up against him, surprisingly careful of his broken wrist. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"I'm scared."

The words hung in the air just a moment before he pulled in a breath. "What are you scared of, Agnes?"

She shrugged and he wrapped his arm around her. His movement was hesitant, but she melted into him instantly. "Bad people hurting Mama and Daddy."

"Your parents are very smart, Agnes, and very…. good at what they do. No one is going to hurt them."

"Hurt you," she said sulkily and he found himself chuckling.

"Your daddy's smarter than me," he said softly, "and your mom won't let anyone hurt him and he won't let anyone hurt her. We just have to be… patient."

"I'm sorry I couldn't be brave."

Howard shifted at that as best as he could, finding a pair of dark blue eyes looking up at him. "Who said you weren't brave?"

"I'm scared."

"Brave people can be scared, sweetie."

She stared at him for a long moment before nodding and sinking back down. He reached over with his good hand and stroked her dark hair, feeling her relax and a smile tugging at him.

To his right his cell phone rang and Howard reached carefully for it, the name lighting up the screen. "Dr Gramble. I hope you have good news for us."

"That is not your happy face."

Tom slammed his pacing to a stop, the call barely ended as Matias Solomon spoke from his place slouched down in a chair with his expensive shoes propped on the table next to him. He was watching Tom with a vaguely amused expression. "That was Nez. We're on the clock."

Some of the amusement faded. "Damn. I thought we'd have more time."

"Doesn't look like it. They're flying down and that means we need to get any intel that Reddington can't have before he gets here." He didn't wait for a response as he turned, long legs carrying him around the corner to the alcove that Dumont and Aram were tucked away in. They were so caught up in their work that neither looked up until he tapped the desk, drawing both of their attentions simultaneously.

Aram pulled his headset off first. "Are they here?"

"On their way, but so is Reddington."

"That's not good," Dumont grumbled, his eyes still focused through his glasses at the computer screen in front of him. "What's our ETA?"

"For Garvey, any second. For Reddington, I'd say three hours tops."

"You got any of those fancy spy skills to unleash on Garvey, or you just gonna sic Solomon after him?"

Tom didn't miss the uneasy look Aram wore at Dumont's question. His gaze shifted to the monitor that showed the outdoor surveillance they had set up and they had already arrived and were in the process of unloading Garvey from the suburban with a bag over his head. He stumbled, disoriented, and Samar jerked him upright and forward. Tom felt his chest tighten a little at the sight of him, anger threaten to boil over. "Liz and I get first go," he said dangerously. "Solomon's gonna have to wait his turn. Need you guys to make sure audio and video is up so that we can play it back."

"Gotcha covered, Tom-Tom."

"Uh…. Tom?"

He paused, Aram's hesitant voice stopping him. "Yeah."

"This is… I shouldn't be running this program here, you know, outside of the Post Office, but it'll read the inflections in his voice and give us a readout. It's not nearly as accurate as a lie detector, but it's something."

Tom found his lips twitching up at one corner despite himself. "Thanks, Aram."

"We'll be searching out keywords, running it through our systems in real time too," Dumont added. "This bastard's going to give up the goods if he means to or not."

The smile remained and Tom looked back to the screen where they were slamming Garvey into the chair, cuffing him to the table. Liz circled around him and ripped the bag off his head. It was showtime.

Notes: I had a friend that said that everyone should have a turn punching Garvey in the face, and I think I agree lol This guy has everything coming and more.

Happy Fourth to all of my American friends that read this. I watched fireworks last night and don't need to be over at the family's house until this afternoon, so I'm going to try to catch up with some writing. I realized that I'm only a chapter and a half ahead right now. While that does tend to happen in the last third of a story for me, I've been working on an original project that has taken over my brain and demanded attention. That means today is Breathe Again day. Time to finish the current chapter I'm on.

Next Time: The Keens finally have a chance at Garvey.

#the blacklist #au fanfiction #Tom Keen #Elizabeth Keen #Scottie Hargrave #Howard Hargrave #Agnes Keen #Nez Rowan #Matias Solomon #Aram Mojtabai #Dumont DeSoto

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bluesakura007 · 3 years

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Undeniable - Epilogue (Happy Ending): Take My Hand and Run With Me - Khan Noonien Singh x OC

Summary: Zin’s plan has succeeded, and now all that’s left to do before she and Khan leave Earth for their exile together is to make the goodbyes to her family and crewmates.

Warning: None, just fluff again.~ 🖤

After this fateful day of the positive outcome ultimately being chosen in that courtroom, and after the reconciliation between Zinalya and Bones and Spock, which ended the feud between her and this pair, she’d promptly entered into her bedroom and joined Khan in her bed.

When she did, she couldn't stop herself from shuffling across the mattress in the dark towards where he was sleeping, his boots and shirt currently off. The only way she could tell that she'd reached her destination during this shuffling was when she suddenly felt the front of one of his shoulders touch up against her.

Just as she'd closed her eyes, though, she was surprised when she felt, still not being aware of it visually due to this aforementioned darkness, the arm connected to this shoulder of his reaching up and gently putting his hand onto her shoulder; obviously either this moment where she bumped into his shoulder woke him up or he was already at least partially awake to do this. She was all too happy to reach up with one of her own forearms and hold this one of Khan's that was holding her shoulder, drifting off in bliss.

She was lying in bed with the man who she wanted to, and was going to, essentially run away with - a man who reciprocated these affections and wanted to be with her in return - and the most difficult part of that plan was now finally over. Her worries, similar to what she and this same man were going to be doing, could now sail off into the sunset.

Khan, remembering that it was this woman he was lying with who had been responsible for bringing about this outcome for the both of them, gently whispered in her ear the words, "Thank you."

Then there came the warm shivers on her spine again.

Following this night of sharing a bed together, Zinalya’s exhilaration in this kind of presence of Khan’s didn’t falter. With him still under her guard, and attracting many glares and fearful glances from passers-by as they did so which they both ignored, the pair travelled on their way to Canada - specifically, on their way to her parents’ home.

The anger and intense disdain from these aforementioned glares they got was very palpable, and at points threatened to make them want to stop their journey and hide away in a corner somewhere, but the nature around them which caught their eyes proved to be a good enough distraction, including when Khan saw, just for a few moments, a ruby-throated hummingbird fluttering near to a flower a few feet away. And who could blame him? Hummingbirds are some of the most beautiful birds to exist on Earth, and yet they were simultaneously so small and quaint.

Then their arrival came, after which Zin's father, mother, older brothers Enaar and Rajen Hamilton and Enaar’s wife Leah - these latter three having also gotten there after finding out about Zin’s own impending arrival - all listened patiently without uttering a word as, sat next to each other on the lounge sofa, she and Khan gave the same origins explanation that he himself had given her two days ago. However, this time he didn’t go quite so deeply into the details: when he went over this particular segment of his childhood, Tanvir’s death was still painful to him, so he preferred to not go over it often if he could avoid it.

"Answer me one last thing, Khan." Mason leaned forwards from the seat he was sitting on. He and his wife were sitting next to their two sons and their daughter in law, opposite from their youngest child and the man who was now her lover. "Is Zinalya safe with you? Will she be alright when she goes to this exile planet?"

The father of the Hamilton siblings had spent the last few minutes during the explanation weighing up the Augment in his mind, as he would always love all three of his children and as a result of this love he wanted them to be happy, which is why he accepted Zin's choice, but he had to be sure of this question he'd just put forward.

Khan then looked straight back into his eyes without blinking once, to ensure that the honesty in what he was about to say in reply would be doubly clear. "Your daughter will always be safe with me, Mr. Hamilton."

The pair stuck around for another two days so that Zinalya could make her goodbyes to her parents, siblings and sister-in-law and spend these two days with them. There were many heartfelt words of goodbyes shared with the aforementioned family. Mason, Siazru, Enaar, Leah, Rajen... she wasn't going to be able to see any of them again for the next ten years, so as you would have imagined this was a particularly crucial goodbye, and, as you also would’ve imagined, tears were shed.

Then, once the adequately repaired Enterprise had departed for Ceti Alpha V, the same rule of Zin effectively being a babysitter making sure Khan kept himself out of trouble was applied to a different environment. As with back on Earth during the journey to Manitoba, some of the crew gave stares that ranged from confusion at her attraction to him to disgust, but, also as with this journey to her childhood home, neither of them were bothered about these stares.

Mind you, Khan did sometimes, whenever he saw them being given, return with his own unnervingly frosty and unblinking glare, but this was the only thing that happened. A large majority of his time during the trek to what would be their new home was spent in Zinalya’s quarters, where he would predominantly occupy himself with either reading or daydreaming. His mind was a vast cathedral, and during these moments when he did the latter, he found that it was one which he could almost tangibly walk through and explore; a place lined with huge gleaming stained glass windows and containing countless passageways and halls. Khan had never really been a religious man, so the fact that this place in his mind could be described as a cathedral was something that he found unusual, but nonetheless, mentally taking this journey to said mind basilica always calmed him, even if just slightly.

"You’d damn well better not hurt her." Jim’s tone of voice while addressing this Augment four days later wasn’t particularly aggressive or vicious, but was nevertheless authoritative and, instead of it being out of anger, this command was spoken out of concern for his now former security chief and crewmate’s well-being.

"Oh how could I refuse such an order, captain?" Responded Khan, also not maliciously and instead with satire. He and Zinalya were standing on the Enterprise’s transporter pad, both carrying a duffel bag each that contained water, basic provisions and some clean clothes, after, a few minutes beforehand, she’d once again shared heartfelt goodbyes.

This time it was with Scotty, Pavel, Uhura, Spock, Carol, Sulu, Kirk and Bones, all of which involving hugs, and now that she was about to complete the process of leaving behind her life in Starfleet, she’d additionally taken off the red operations division overshirt of her uniform dress, so now all that remained was its black layer underneath - this all-black colouring of her getup made her current appearance bear a small similarity to the man next to her.

"I... guess I’ll be seeing you round, sir." Stuck for how else he’d current emotions could be put into words, she chose these ones as she also suddenly found the inescapable weight on her chest at leaving her friends growing again.

Kirk smiled, him, Bones and Spock all experiencing this same growing weight but simultaneously being happy for the fact that this was all a decision she’d made without any coercion from Khan. "See you round, Zin."

"Perhaps we shall meet one another again at some point, even though we may not know when that point will be." Said Spock.

"Then that way if he stood ya up in the end we’ll get a chance to find out and do something about it." Added the CMO jokingly, earning a stare from the man in the black clothing and matching jet black hair. "I’m just kidding. But seriously, yeah: it’ll be great to see you again someday." His own smile that then emerged mirrored the captain’s, and Spock’s own was a tiny little upwards curl, more unnoticeable but still a virtue of his human half.

Zinalya nodded her head, her own mouth melting into the same warm expression. "I’d like that too."

Ceti Alpha V’s climate, from what the pair had gathered during the last few minutes, seemed to be a mild one. It was neither freezing cold nor blazing hot, or even leaning slightly towards either of these two temperature sides. It was just... ordinary, but they realised that this might be a time-specific climate and that it’ll get hotter or colder later, as this was an unfamiliar planet which therefore had unfamiliar weather seasons.

However, all that mattered now was that the temperature and weather at this present moment were good and that it was now well and truly over. Both Zinalya and Khan were free to be together in their exile sentences on this world, and now that, as mentioned above, the events of this story were over and they’d actually reached their destination, they felt a new and previously unknown kind of undeniable bliss coursing through their veins, in their minds and hearts.

She’d spent a couple of these last few minutes gazing out at a flat area of land, a valley, to be precise, over a grassy hill which, like the aforementioned current temperature in the air, was neither what you’d call too high nor too low. Most of the valley’s ground seemed to be dusty and rocky, but there were grassy and viable crop-growing regions for the rest, all decorated with what appeared to be a stream stretching through one part of the valley.

"I think I’ve found a good place for us to set up!" Yelled out Zinalya, running back down the hill and towards where she and Khan had been beamed down to along with the seventy-two cryotubes containing his Augment companions. A few seconds before she’d left to go up the hill and take a look at the surrounding terrain, he’d told her that he was attempting to unfreeze and revive one of these seventy-two companions, although she hadn’t found out any more specific details such as their name or what they looked like, so when she finally reached this beam site again, she was mildly surprised when she saw another person standing and conversing with him. This other person seemed to be a woman, whose long ebony hair stretched down elegantly behind her back and whose eye colour was brown. She had a light brown skin tone and the way she carried herself gave off an elegance that applied to her entirety and not just her hair.

"You must be Miss Hamilton." Her voice, which was smooth and amicable not too unlike the chirp of a hummingbird, contained an Indian accent.

"Yeah, that’s right. I guess that means Khan just told you about me?"

"He did; he said you’re the one who was responsible for getting us here." The woman nodded her head and smiled sweetly, and while this exchange was taking place, she seemed to be leaning slightly against the side of the now open cryotube that he’d defrosted, most likely because of the initial grogginess from being awoken. "I’m Kati." She fully turned towards Zin and extended her right hand.

"Good to be meeting you." The half Trill replied in the same amicable manner, shaking Kati’s right hand with her own. "I’ve gotta say, you’re being a lot more friendly with me so far than I thought you were going to be."

The female Augment chuckled. "Well, from what I understand you were the kindest to Khan while I was still sleeping, and since then you still haven’t done anything that’s put any of us in danger, so you seem nice and friendly yourself. I thought I might as well treat you as such."

"We can’t make any promises regarding Joaquin’s own tolerance, however." This male one himself said. "He was what you might regard as the hothead in our group, and he doesn’t trust outsiders easily. But I’m certain that sooner or later he’ll learn to open himself up to you."

"So, shall we wake up the others?" Said Kati.

"Yeah, lets get to it." Zinalya nodded.

"I agree. You also said you’d found a place for us to establish our settlement?"

"It’s just over these hills. There’s a river and grasslands and everything."

He turned to Kati. "Your thoughts?"

"It sounds good enough to me."

"Very well then." He walked over to one of the other tubes, all of them sitting next to supply crates which the Enterprise crew - this ship having left again by now - had sent down in addition to help with the initial setup of their lives on this planet. His fingers went up to the circular keypad on the top of this particular tube and began to initiate the same process as he’d done with that of the black-haired woman.

"I’m just going up to have a look for myself at this place you found, I’ll be back in a minute." Said black-haired woman spoke to Zinalya again before setting off in the same direction the latter had come down from. This one whose own hair was burgundy went to stand next to Khan, looking down through the cryotube’s glass at the masculine face inside which gave off a hint of authoritativeness despite the eyes, the windows to the soul, being closed.

"This is Joaquin." The man with the porcelain skin told her when he noticed her looking down through the glass.

"Can you show me how to wake them up?" She looked back at this conscious one who’d just spoken. "You know, so that when Kati gets back it’ll all be done quicker with three pairs of hands?"

"Of course." The smile that appeared on Khan’s face as he gave this answer wasn’t that big but was soft and beautiful even so, the sight of this causing the same reaction on Zinalya’s. He then started to demonstrate the defrosting process on the keypad for her, going about it a little bit more slowly this time to make it easier for her to see every step, and she watched carefully.

#khan #star trek into darkness #into darkness #khan noonien singh #benedict cumberbatch #khan noonien singh x oc #into darkness khan #star trek aos #aos #star trek #khan x oc #khanbatch #khan singh #stid

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multi-fandom-daddies · 7 years

Text

Imagine...

being rescued from space pirates by the USS Enterprise. You have to deal with a lot of the trauma you faced and a hectic ship while hiding that you’ve got magic from the two people who’ve helped you most.

AN: Sorry for the long wait but I made up for it in words. Nearly 4000 underneath the cut.

Blasters went off around you. There was screams. Explosions. Pain. Oh god, there was so much pain! You could feel the blaster beams burn across your skin. It was hell. That was all you could describe it as. As you were running, one of your captors stumbled across you, recognising you as a prisoner. They lined up the shot and your eyes slid shut, waiting for the inevitable. From behind your eyelids, you saw the flash as it went off and knew this was the end.

“Whoa! Y/N, wake up! It’s a dream!” came the soothing voice of one of your rescuers.

Opening your eyes, you looked towards him and saw him sitting in a chair by your bed. You were confused, last thing you remembered you were getting ready to be killed. You distinctly remembered the heat that rushed towards you, so why were you lying in a hospital bed?

Unless… unless this wasn’t a hospital. Maybe you were dead and this is what the afterlife was like. You didn’t think you minded, not when the man opposite you was as handsome as he was.

“I’d take it easy if I was you, Bones will have my head if one of your wounds open up again” the man smiled, threading his fingers together and looking you over. Bones? Who was Bones? What did he do in the afterlife?

“I’m Captain James Kirk, but you can call me Jim. Do you remember anything of what happened?” Jim asked softly, seeing how your eyes wondered to everything around you.

You shook your head, still not quite believing that this was real. You understood there was a lot of things that had gone unexplored in the universe, death being one of them. But you never thought the afterlife would be so… clean.

“Well, we were on a diplomatic mission when those pirates attacked us. We went after them and found you being hurt in the middle of their ship. So we tried to get you out but we were discovered, they didn’t take kindly to us crashing their party. You got hurt in the crossfire, so we brought you onto my ship, the USS Enterprise. You’ve been asleep for days, Bones was starting to worry about you” Jim explained, boyish grin disappearing in an instant as he told you what had happened.

So you weren’t dead. And you were on another ship. At least they knew about you this time. The ship you were on before knew nothing about you until the pirates boarded it and found you hiding amongst the supplies.

It was starting to come to you now. How the Captain of that ship had given you over to the pirates, just as long as he wasn’t killed himself. You remembered how you had been dragged on the ship, shackled to a table, how they had hurt you. Especially when they found out what you could do. Then they found it fun to do experiments on you.

You were rare, exceedingly so. Magic ran in your veins, passed down through generations of your family until it arrived at you. Your mother didn’t have it, but when she found out you did, she abandoned you and never looked back. That was why you had been looking after yourself for years, living on the streets, being a stowaway on different ships to make sure you never stayed in the same place for too long.

“We found the record logs on the ship, I'm sorry they did that to you. I promise, you're safe-” Jim said softly, reaching for your hand.

Instinctively, you pulled your hand away, wide eyes darting up to look at him fearfully. You didn't know who this was, what he could do. Why on earth would he try and hold your hand? Thankfully the door slid open, interrupting the tense moment as a handsome man walked in.

“Ah, sleeping beauty finally awakes, does she?” he greeted, quickly going over to the screen which displayed your vitals. “Hmm, heart rate is a little high. Understandable. I'm Dr McCoy, I've been looking after you while you've been asleep. How are you feeling?” he asked, taking out a tricorder.

You weren't sure how to respond, feeling like death warmed up. The memories of what they did to you weren't helping. Especially now you knew that you were in a medical bed, it was awfully similar to the one you were tied down to and tortured. Humming, you shrugged slightly in the hope that would be an answer.

“Can you tell us how you got on there darlin'?” he frowned, noticing the way your breathing was picking up and your eyes were darting around the room. He had seen these symptoms more than he cared to admit.

“Or who you are? The records didn't really give much detail about you” Jim smiled, trying to provide you with a comforting presence.

You shook your head, not willing to let them know anything about you. They were strangers. Strangers that had helped you sure, but all help came with a price. You knew that very well by now. What did they want from you? Why were they asking pointless questions instead of just getting to the bottom of it?

“Excuse us. Jim!” McCoy hissed, nodding briefly at you before hurrying round the side of the bed and tugging Jim out of the chair by his arm.

“Ow Bones! Learn better bed side manners!” Jim complained as they stepped away from you.

You listened in, needing to know what they were planning on doing to you. If they wanted to hurt you, then you would fight them. It wouldn't be too hard to get out of here unnoticed and steal a ship from the evacuation bays. Simple. Easy. Except you were tired of running.

“Bones, what is it?” Jim grumbled, pulling his arm away from his friend, brow furrowed at his behaviour.

“She's mute Jim! She's so traumatised, she's mute!” McCoy whispered, volume level dropping in a bid to keep quiet.

Promptly, the screen display went blank. Well shit, they found out!

Over the coming weeks that turned into months, you developed a close relationship with both Jim and Bones. They had tried to get you to come out of your shell, introduced you to the rest of the ship's crew and had helped you start living a somewhat normal life. Although that proved very difficult on a ship like the USS Enterprise.

As Bones were always keen to remind you, the ship was hectic at best and chaotic at worst. If Jim hadn't caused an accident (“I do not!”) then it was the everyday running of the ship. Everyone was rushing around, doing this and that and speaking a mile a minute. It made your head pound and pain burst behind your eyes. It didn't help that your magic responded to this.

On the days when it felt like you were barely keeping yourself above water, your magic would brush against things, disrupting frequencies that systems ran on and even causing a power cut. Scotty had been fuming at one particular incident which left him trying to fix the coolants for hours.

It happened the worst when you panicked and remembered what had happened to you. On those days you didn't even trust yourself to be around people, let alone Bones or Jim. You lost control of your magic, it acting out in ways that either tried to cheer you up or defended you.

Like that one time you had been panicking, rushing down to the medbay to find Bones when your magic had tripped up an Ensign who was walking past you in the corridor. He had his feet knocked out from underneath him and the freshly prepared coffee in his hand went flying in the air. You had ran even quicker to Bones after seeing that.

“Y/N, what are you doing here? I thought we were going to meet in the mess hall” Jim smiled, meeting you as you lingered outside of his room, hoping to run into him. However, he only had to see the look on your face and he knew that you had suffered a nightmare. “Come in” he sighed, tying in his passcode and letting you into his room.

You sat down hesitantly on his bed, watching as he kicked off his shoes and went to go get two glasses of whiskey to settle your nerves. Sitting on Jim's bed, watching him wonder around his room was oddly comforting, making you feel safe compared to when you were facing the rest of his crew. With the exception of Bones of course.

“So, I'm going with a nightmare” Jim stared, sitting opposite you and passing you a glass of amber liquid.

Nodding, you looked away, ashamed that you had disturbed him and ruined your plans for tonight. Ever since you had arrived on the ship, your nightmares had gotten worse. Your captors' faces featured heavily in all of them, along with their instruments of torture you had to endure every night.

Jim placed his glass on his bedside table, shuffling closer so that your knees knocked together. He threaded his hand through your hair, making you look up at him and meeting his soft gaze. “Have you told Bones? He might be able to give you something sweetheart?” he breathed, leaning forward to kiss your forehead.

Shaking your head, you wished you could tell your other lover about how much these nightmares were effecting you. But the thought of him giving you some hypospray immediately made you bulk at the idea.

“Maybe you should. I know he's been worrying about you. You haven't been eating or sleeping right. And believe you me sweetheart, he notices unfortunately” Jim rolled his eyes affectionately, making you feel slightly better. Your shared lover always fretted over the both of you, even though he would be the first to deny it.

“Just let him check you over, give you something to sleep. I promise it won't hurt as much as you think” Jim soothed, pulling you into his lap.

You stilled, your captor's laugh ringing in your ears as he promised you the same thing. It won't hurt as much as you think.

Suddenly Jim's glass crashed onto the floor from his bedside table, making your eyes widen. Your magic was normally settled around Jim and Bones.

“Shit, I must have left it on the edge” he cursed, kissing your temple before going to clean up the mess of whiskey and broken glass.

“Morning darlin', Jim said you had a bad night. Sorry I weren't there, damn shifts don't seem to end” Bones grumbled as you walked into the medbay with lunch.

You shrugged, smiling softly as you came round to sit on the edge of his desk. He did look tired, as though he had been up all night. Tapping the box in your hand, you placed it down firmly in front of him with a pointed look.

“Don't give me that look darlin, we both know you're just as likely as me to forget. Come sit down with me” Bones rolled his eyes, opening the lid to take a look at the sandwiches in front of him.

Unable to deny him, you sat in his lap, both of you sharing the sandwiches that you had made for him. It felt nice to give back to him after everything he had done for you. Even though both Jim and Bones refused to believe you owed them anything. So you tried to do as much as you could for them to repay back their kindness and love.

The atmosphere was warm, light chuckles coming from the both of you as Bones explained about the nightmare shift he was on. It distracted you enough that you missed the way he ran his eyes over you, taking you all in. On hindsight, you wished you had paid more attention to what he was doing, rather than just listening to him chat.

“You know, Hawkins came in the other day. He was due his check-up” Bones stated, making me hum as I leaned into his chest. A warm arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer towards him if that was possible. “I remembered that it was time for yours” Bones remarked, arm tightening a little as I stilled.

No! No check up! It was a miracle you weren't discovered when you were first brought in. But to tempt fate a second time was not something you wanted to do. You were fine. A little scarred, a little broken but who wouldn't be after everything you faced? You did not want a check up nor did you need one. Shaking your head vehemently, you pushed against his chest, trying to escape. The lights flickered above you, making you realise you were losing control again in your panic.

“Sshh, Darlin' look at me. Darlin' look at me please. It's going to be alright, I promise. I’ll be the one to do it and we'll take it nice and slow okay? We'll do this together” Bones soothed, cupping your face as you struggled against him.

Tears pricked at your eyes and fell down your cheeks as you stared into his beautiful eyes. They held such love for you that you could barely bring yourself to deny him. You knew he would look after you, would never judge you but you were scared. You hated being anywhere near medical instruments, only doing so if you had to hurry past them. But apart from that, you had a great fear of tools and instruments. Clenching his shirt in your hands, you rested your forehead against his, trying to calm yourself.

“I just want to make sure you're okay. We'll do this at your pace and if you want to stop, you just let me know Darlin' and we'll stop” he whispered, pushing your hair away from your face. When he saw your small nod, he wiped away your tears and kissed you softly. “Let's get started then” Bones murmured, helping you off his lap and tugging you towards a private bay. The lights kept flickering and Bones shook his head. “Remind me to get Scotty to fix those” he grumbled.

“I'm just going to scan you okay? It'll detect your heart rate, blood pressure, any anomalies in you that kind of thing” Bones explained, grabbing the tricorder and running it up and down you.

You were grateful for his explanations as you tried to concentrate on his strong, relaxing voice.

“A little elevated but you're in fine shape” Bones smirked, making you giggle slightly. He raised his hands to your neck, leaving them hovering there before he told you what was going to happen. “I'm just going to run my hands over your neck, check your glands to see if anything is swollen” he assured, seeing you nervously look up at him.

The touch was soothing, his warm hands gliding across your neck, rubbing small circles into the muscles. It felt just like the massages that Jim gave you after a bad day. Smiling you lent into him, nuzzling your face into his hands.

“Careful Darlin', I don't want it getting out my bedside manner has improved” he teased, mood a lot lighter than it normally was with patients.

He moved away, going over to the tray of hyposprays that was laid out neatly to the side. You felt your breath quicken at the sight of them. “Don't worry Darlin', I just want-” Bones started before the door slid open and Jim walked through. “Oh, just in time. You can hold her hand through this bit” Bones grinned, preparing the hypospray.

But I ignored him, staring at the look on Jim's face. Multiple emotions flickered over his face, leaving my stomach to curl tightly in warning. Something was wrong. Jim never looked like this at the pair of you, especially you. Anger, hurt, disappointment, betrayal, all raced across his face as he wouldn't look away from you.

“When were you going to tell us?” Jim demanded, eyes hard and looking at you firmly.

You felt your blood run cold at that. He had found out. Somehow he had discovered your magic and wanted to kill you. Or worse, maybe he wanted to experiment on you. He could hand you over to the Federation and let them experiment on you instead.

“Oh no, you are not doing this here! Not when I've only just got her to do a medical” Bones grumbled, crossing his arms as he looked between you. He could see more tears welling in your eyes as your fists clenched on the bedsheet beneath you.

“She has magic Bones! Everything that's been happening on the ship, the power shortages, the breakdowns and the random accidents? They've all been her” Jim snapped, never taking his gaze off you.

Your heart felt like it had jumped into your throat, your stomach twisting as fear pricked up your spine. You needed to escape from here before something happened to you. Before Jim could decide on what to do with you.

“What are you talking about? Magic isn't real!” Bones scoffed, brow furrowing as he came over to step next to you. His hand reached out to squeeze your knee, trying to offer you some support as he looked at Jim like he had finally lost it.

“I didn't notice at first but Spock was kind enough to clear it up for me. He has been following you, watching what happens when the incidents occur and the only constant in all of them... is you” Jim growled, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“My god man! You're basing all this on what Spock has told you. I thought Vulcans were meant to be logical but instead he tells you that magic is responsible. Maybe the green bloodied goblin is in need of a medical instead” Bones sneered, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of this situation.

“I wouldn't believe it if it hasn't been happening around us. All the little stuff, the lights flickering, the glasses breaking. They all happened when she lost control of her emotions. She's got magic and that's why they were testing on her, weren't they?” Jim demanded, stepping closer.

Your breath hitched in your throat, staring up at him fearfully. Would he hurt you as well? Would he hit you for lying to them both for so long now? Jim's eyes widened and tears welled in his own eyes at your reaction.

“Stop! Please!” you rasped, eyes squeezed shut as the words escaped from you. It felt strange to finally hear your voice in person after so long. It was raspy and nearly unintelligible after so long without use but it had the desired affect of stilling them both.

They stared at you, unable to believe that you had finally spoke to them after the months and months of knowing you. Even they had almost given up hope of hearing your voice, used to the fact that they wouldn't be able to hold verbal conversations with you.

“I... have magic... from... when I was a child” you told them, grimacing at the dryness of your throat. You were working muscles that you hadn't worked for a while.

“Here” Bones murmured, pouring you some water and handing it over to you. He stared at you wide eyed, as though he couldn't believe what he was seeing and hearing. Everything he knew about the world had changed in the space of a few short minutes. You didn't blame him for looking a little bit shocked.

Jim on the other hand was listening to what you had to say. He didn't say anything, just giving you your chance to explain this whole disaster to him.

“I was scared. I couldn't tell you. When my mother found out, she left me. I was abandoned on some planet and had to fend for myself. When my captors found out, they tortured me until I thought I would finally meet my death. Until you two came along and rescued me. How could I tell you? Everyone that has ever known has either abandoned me or hurt me” you explained, shaking your head and looking away from them.

Jim softened, coming over to stand in between your legs. He linked his fingers with yours, squeezing them softly to get you to look up at him. “You should have told us still. If only for the sake of the crew” Jim sighed, shaking his head before bringing your hands up to kiss your knuckles.

“How could I? I didn't want you to send me away or experiment on me” you murmured, hoping that he wouldn't do that to you. After everything that you shared over the months that you had known him and gotten into a relationship with him and Bones, you prayed he wouldn't betray you like that. “If you want me to go, just say the word. I’ll go now and no one else will be any the wiser.”

“Of course we don't want you to go! We love you, you idiot. Even if you did keep secrets from us, I understand why. In all of our discoveries, mankind still hasn't learnt to be accepting of the differences among us. But we would never hurt you” Bones swore, hurt colouring his tone at the idea that you would leave them. He sat on your other side, reaching to push your hair back as he wrapped an arm round you.

“I'm sorry, but my past experience have told me differently” you shrugged, relaxing into the touches of the two men in front of you. You loved them dearly and you were glad they were more accepting of it than you thought they would be.

“We know, but we're different and we're going to show you. Your secret is safe with us but... you're going to have to learn to control it. I think Scotty is getting sick of mechanical failures just happening over the ship” Jim grinned, leaning forward to press his lips to yours as you giggled.

“And I’m definitely going to take a blood sample now. I want to know everything in case something happens. How do you react to certain medications? Are you allergic to something?” Bones listed, going over to grab the prepared hypospray he had forgotten about.

“Bones, you know how I feel about hyposprays” Jim moaned, moving away as he gave Bones a wide berth when he stepped over towards you.

“Don't worry you infant, Y/N will hold your hand, won't you darlin'?” Bones mocked, rolling his eyes as you giggled at Jim's cry of protest.

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