#london bombing scene

[cyberphuck]

Here’s something I think about way more frequently than it merits: In Disney’s Peter Pan, in the scene in the cave when Peter is fighting Hook and has him suspended over the crocodile’s mouth, Peter hovers over him and orders Hook to call himself a codfish (which is an insult that Peter’s been using throughout the movie). Hook wails “I’m a codfish!” (and then Peter tries to feed him to the croc anyway.) This is supposed to be this funny moment of Peter (who is good) trouncing Captain Hook (who is bad), but I have to say that even as a kid this scene made me massively uncomfortable. Something about the hero gleefully humiliating the villain and forcing him to beg for his life (and this is viewed as a good and funny thing) was gross to me. (Before anyone “well actually”s at me, I’m well aware that Book Peter is absolutely a psychopath and commits several acts of outright cruelty, but Disney’s movie up until that point had been portraying Peter as a loveable rapscallion who would ultimately do the right thing, not like, a sadist.)

#I used to be fucking obsessed with the peter pan story in general #particularly the disney version #I very excitedly went to see the sequel return to neverland in theaters with my bemused friend #christ that movie is sad #literally one of the first scenes is Wendy's daughter running for her life as the Nazis bomb London

[chiefartisancowboy]

#albino #celebrities #architecture #redneck #gay slam #slam #’ kroger customers bash retail giant as they slam worker’s ‘tactics’ at self-checkout #cowboy #furious london 7/7 survivors slam ‘barbaric’ disney as it films shocking scenes recreating fatal bombings for tv drama #conor mcgregor slammed after warning of ‘grave danger in ireland’ in explosive immigration post over dublin stabbings #jason #885crystalbaylane #Huntsman #2718 #2718huntclublane

[ur-mag]

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[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

A Surprise^**

Hello friends, thank you so much for your patience. I ended up having quite a disastrous day and it took longer to finish editing! But here is the one shot based off of this request. Hope you like it!

Warnings: TW! abusive partner: mentions of love-bombing, gaslighting/accusations of infidelity, verbal arguments, intimidation tactics (psychological and physical), physical altercation between M/F ( described, but more intimidating than violent or aimed to hurt), physical altercation between M/M (not described but the aftermath is mentioned, bloody nosy type of thing), mentions of law enforcement and law enforcement processes. Mentions of sex, unprotected sex, oral (M/F receiving), fingering, unplanned pregnancy, ultrasound procedure.

WC: 18.2K

You were nervous as you rode up in the elevator. You weren’t claustrophobic or anything, so the feeling of it closing in on you was one you had no idea how to deal with. You were trying to keep your breathing as calm as possible and clearing your head of any irrational or negative thoughts, but it was truly a challenge. It had been a nearly a year since you and Harry had been in any space together and it was nerve-racking. What was originally supposed to be a month or two-long break, turned into all this time and distance. He said he wanted to talk and get some closure, which you thought was bull shit, and that’s why you were so nervous.

Before “the break” you and Harry had been dating for four years. Things had been going really well up until he started getting antsy to work again. You’d moved to London for him and now that he was finally “off” you saw that he was jumping into the next thing he could. You understood that he felt like he needed to do something with his time but soon enough he was back in the studio for hours at a time while you just hung out at his house. You lasted a year like that before you told him that you couldn’t do it anymore. You felt lonely in your relationship with him and you saw that he wasn’t ready to slow down and settle a bit like he said he was before. That was the whole reason why you’d even moved to London for him. So when you suggested a little time apart to have him sort through his priorities he freaked out on you. But the following morning the tune was different, he was more open to this idea of taking some time apart.

You had assured him over and over again that you loved him but that you were ready for the next step and he clearly wasn’t. He then assured you that you were the love of his life and that he’d take a month or two to just tie up all the loose strings with his current project and then focus back on your relationship. You even went back home to LA to give him all the space he needed. You checked in with each other a lot but when the two months were up you reached out and didn’t get a response back until two weeks later. Much to your dismay it was just an “I’m sorry.” And with tears in your eyes you just deleted the entire messaging feed you had with him.

A few months later you were back on the dating scene. One of your co-workers set you up with her cousin, Steven. He came off as sweet, smart, and mature. He mostly had his shit together from what she’d said and you had seen, so you gave him a real chance. Yeah, he was no Harry, but no one would ever equate to Harry, so you stopped comparing and got to know him for who he was. Soon enough you’d started to develop more feelings for Steven, he showered you in attention and time and affection, it was almost too much, you thought. But then you recalled that things had been so cold with Harry towards the end that maybe you just weren’t used it anymore. It wasn’t love-bombing, it was just a man who is interested in showing you what you meant to him. After two months of seeing him casually you started talking about the future, about starting a real, committed relationship. You talked about properly meeting each other’s families and taking serious steps forward, you were gearing up to properly move on with someone who clearly prioritized you! And then Harry called. 

He was jealous, you heard it in his voice when he called, but the fact that he was jealous pleased you in a way. Honestly, you thought you’d be so well off that when you spoke to him you’d feel above him somehow, but when you heard his voice your heart ached with longing and your small victory suddenly made you feel a bit sadistic. He then asked to see you to get some closure and you quickly agreed because you needed it too. But that’s how you ended up at his hotel just an hour later. So far you were just standing there at his hotel door just taking each other in. Quite frankly, you were just pleased you had made it out of the elevator alive. But it felt like it’d been ages and no time at all at the same time, your heart was racing in the confines of your chest, making it hard to breathe once again. It made you so happy, but hurt your heart at the same time to see him. It was so confusing, feeling relief and joy and disappointment all at the same time. 

“You look great.” He complimented you after a few moments of staring.

“Oh! Thanks.” You smiled timidly, “H-how are you?”

“I’m alright. Come on in.” He said moving aside and you wandered in. You sat at the couch in his suite as he headed to the kitchenette.

“Can I offer you some water or tea?” He asked.

“No, I’m alright.” You assured and he nodded before coming over to sit near you on the couch. You sat in silence for a few moments again before he chuckled in slight disbelief and shook his head.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here.” He confessed with a shake of his head.

“Me either.” You chuckled a bit humorlessly. He had wronged you…the only thing that you knew about him right now was that he did not love you as much as he said he did. If he did he wouldn’t have left you hanging like he had. “I guess I just…needed to see you one more time. I don’t think that we left off on a good note so-”

“Exactly. That’s why I wanted to see you.” He said leaning forward and taking your hand and your facade of stoicism and ease melted away immediately. The hurt from his actions just came to the surface and made a pang of pain ripple from your chest all the way out to your fingertips, you swore even your scalp hurt as his eyes met yours apologetically.

“Harry, it’s almost been a year.” You pointed out and he frowned.

“I know, love.” He confirmed, “And I haven’t even tried t-to apologize since that text I sent you.” He said and your eyes started welling up. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just…I got scared that if I took that step forward with you it meant that my work was gone.” He explained and you scoffed.

“Harry, no! When I asked you to slow down that’s all I meant. Slow down, not stop! I’d never tell you to stop.” You sighed, exasperated and upset that he even thought that you’d ever make him stop doing what he loved most, “I just wanted you to slow down a little and enjoy your life for yourself. Spend time with your mom and your sister and your cousins and nieces and nephews!” You vented, “W-with me.” You added towards the end and he nodded in understanding. “What you do with your work matters to me. I see how happy it makes you. And I don’t think I’ve ever done anything to make you feel like you couldn’t be honest with me about your priorities.” You said and he shook his head.

“You didn’t. I should’ve talked to you about it all, Y/N. I know I fucked up, big time, but I love you and-”

“No you don’t…” you interrupted with a scoff as you pulled your hand away from his, “You’re just jealous because I’m ready to move on with someone else now.” You said to him and he glanced up at the ceiling and smiled sadly.

“Yeah, of course I’m fucking jealous!” he confessed through a pained, breathy laugh, “And I still love you and whether you believe it or not because of my previous actions, I respect you and you deserve an apology. That’s why I wanted to see you.” He explained as his eyes met yours again, “I know that I’ve lost you, Y/N.” He said sadly, “Believe me, I didn’t come to try and talk you out of that decision. I just wanted to tell you, in person, that I love you with my whole heart. I should’ve fought for you. You showed me so much love and gave me all of your care and support all the time! I shouldn’t have been scared t-to talk about it. I shouldn’t have let you go.” He explained, “I’m going to have to live with that for the rest of my life, Y/N. I know that.” He sniffled and you wiped your tears carefully. “I just needed you to know that it’s not anything you did. I love you, even still, I think I’ll die loving you.” He said.

“Jesus, Harry…” you inhaled sharply before standing up quickly. You grabbed your purse from the coffee table and started rushing back to the door.

“Baby! Baby, baby, baby-” he rushed in front of you blocking the door, “J-just wait.” He sniffled, he looked panicked.

“Why should I?” You questioned him, “Why now?” You asked for clarity and he swallowed thickly, “You had this whole fucking time and now that I’m just about t-to forget about you, y-you show up and…” you trailed off as your anger boiled over and your tears started to trickle down your face more heavily.

“Y/N, I’m sorry-” He started.

“Y-you better not be trying to manipulate me!” You warned, your voice raised in accusation and he shook his head.

“I know it might seem that way b-but I’m not, love. I’m not looking for anything from you, I know I don’t deserve it. I just needed t-to see you and apologize to you and tell you how I feel before you wouldn’t entertain the idea of me in your presence ever again. And I know you probably hate me so much right now-” He explained and you inhaled sharply with a disappointed shake of your head.

“That’s the stupidest fucking part of this whole thing! I-” you stopped and shook your head, “I felt so happy when I heard from you.” You confessed, “And I still have so much love for you.” You sniffled and felt sick to your stomach just admitting it. You felt like an idiot for it.

You had gone over a very similar scenario in your head if not millions of times before while daydreaming or lying in bed. You dreamed of him coming back and apologizing and you having the strength to not come crawling back to him after whatever excuse he gave. Except you’d gotten it wrong. Harry wasn’t standing before you asking you to come back to him with an underlying arrogance that came with knowing that your love was enough to have you come back to him. He was actually just coming to be accountable for his mistakes and to apologize to you for hurting you. He came with humility and sincere repentance for his errors, no ulterior motives. And well, you weren’t nearly as strong as you thought you’d be by now.

“Oh, baby…” he sighed, “I don’t deserve it.” He recognized, “And I know that you’re happy.”

“I am.” You sniffled.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel confused, I really didn’t want that. I really just wanted to make things as right as I could after all this time.”

“Thank you.” You responded and he gave you one firm nod. “I think I should go.” You said and he glanced into your eyes and just waited for a moment and when you didn’t waiver he exhaled and moved out of your way to let you leave.

You reached for the door and opened it up before stepping out into the hall, pulling it shut behind you as you cried quietly as you walked back to the elevator, what seemed like a trap before now felt like your much needed escape. You were just about to step inside when you glanced back down the hallway at his door, questioning if you’d been too harsh. After all, you did miss him and you still loved him…you’d definitely regret not giving him a hug goodbye or even just confirming to him that you forgave him. So with all the strength you had, you ignored that pull to return to him and got inside and left. It was time to move on.

****************

You’d been quiet and in your head all afternoon. Internalizing everything you were feeling was weird because you were never one to just let things brew in silence. You had to talk about it and your best friend was back in the UK and she had an important work thing in the morning so you couldn’t interrupt and you just wanted to talk to someone who would be 100% real with you. You decided to just distract yourself until stopped by for dinner, surely his company would provide an adequate distraction.

But even when Steven arrived you found yourself ruminating on how awkwardly you’d left Harry. You certainly got what you needed but you were out of there so fast that you had no idea if he got the closure he needed from you and now you felt bad! That’s what you were thinking about, but your silent and pensive demeanor had Steven feeling iced out which he did not like. So after sitting in your little living room on his phone for half an hour in complete silence as his football game droned on, on the TV he figured he’d just ask you.

“Babe, are you upset at me?” He finally asked as he came into the kitchen. You were just grating some carrots into the salad you were making for dinner.

“No.” You assured him with a small smile as you glanced up at him briefly.

“Well, you’ve been oddly quiet since I got here. More than half the time I’m wishing you’d just shut up for five minutes but I don’t know anymore…it’s weird.” He joked, trying to make light of the situation. But upon hearing that your brows pinched in confusion and offense at his “joke”.

“That’s quite rude and not funny at all. I heard you turn on the game and you don’t like it when I talk to you when you’r watching so I just stayed quiet.” You mumbled a bit spitefully before going back to grating and he came closer and placed a hand on your hip.

“Damn, you’re so sensitive, it was a joke.” He said mawkishly and your irritation continued blooming so you refused to look at him, “Y/N, you’re clearly in your head about something and now you’re taking it out on me.” He said and you sighed.

“I’m not taking anything out on you, Steven. I’m just thinking some stuff through.” You shared with him.

“Stuff like…?” He pressed.

“Like…my ex, Harry.” You said and he straightened up at the mention of Harry’s name.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He asked with a sardonic smile and you put down the carrot and glanced up at him.

“You asked.” You emphasized and he huffed out a sarcastic laugh, “I’m not done, so listen up because it’s good news for you.” You said and he clenched his jaw and nodded, “Well he’s in town and he asked to see me so we could talk,” You explained and Steven’s expression twisted into a disconcerting look, “so earlier I met up with him and we talked-”

“Wait.” He cut you off, “Why the hell would you think to go see your ex?” He asked you, fully offended over what you’d done this afternoon.

“I went to get closure! And well, considering we’ve been talking about starting a relationship in the near future it’s good for us that I just close that door for good.” You explained and he shook his head.

“And you didn’t think to tell me about this before you went there?”

“It happened so fast and I know you were meeting clients all day so I-”

“You should have at least asked if I was fine with you doing that!” He groaned with frustration and you frowned.

“Like…ask you for permission?” You asked and he shook his head.

“Don’t put words in my mouth, Y/N.” He snapped quickly.

“I’m not, I was asking for clarification. You said I should’ve asked if it was alright with you before going. Is that not asking for permission?” You asked and he sighed.

“Look, not permission but like…at least consider me! Like, have me be there so he doesn’t get any ideas.” He said and you looked at him like he was completely delusional.

“W-what?!” You asked in disbelief, “Why would I invite you into a conversation with me and my ex about our old relationship?” You questioned.

“Because, I need to make sure nothing weird is going on! And if you didn’t want me there, which you clearly didn’t, then you should’ve asked if I was cool with you going to meet him all alone! It makes me uncomfortable to think of you two alone.” He said and you were complete confused at his logic.

“And what if you said that no, I couldn’t go?” You asked.

“I would’ve said no and you would’ve not gone.” He rebutted confidently and you were in total shock, “You have no business talking to him again, Y/N.” He added and you sighed and shook your head in exasperation.

“I wanted answers and an apology, Steven. I am owed at least that! And he took responsibility. He was able to give that to me.” You said and he scoffed.

“You’re…you’re so fucking naive.” He said and you looked at him in confusion, “It’s a test. He was testing you! Testing you to see if you’re still loyal to him. Testing to see if he still has power over you! And guess what? By going there all alone the moment he called you up, you confirmed that for him. You confirmed that he still owns you!” He was speaking to you in the most belittling way. You felt your rage flaring up inside of you.

“What are you even saying?!” You scoffed in disbelief, “It was just a conversation! I was in and out of there in less than 10 minutes!” You laughed incredulously.

“10 minutes? Really? That alone fucked you up so much you couldn’t talk to me?” He asked with a sardonic look on his face and you rolled your eyes, “See now, I’m not so sure that something else didn’t happen between you two.” He soft-launched his accusation and you scoffed.

“Nothing happened! I’m telling you that he said what he needed to say and I just left!” You explained, “I’m just thinking on it because I don’t feel right about just having left like that.” You explained, “It was awkward, the way I handled it. I didn’t even ask him if he had any questions for me or anything else to say, I was selfish. I just got the apology I needed and that was that.” You said a bit sadly and his jaw clenched for a second before biting down on the inside of his cheek.

“You promise that was it?” He asked you after a few moments of silence.

“I promise! Literally we just talked.” You reiterated and he nodded.

“Fine. I’m sorry.” He said grumpily, like a child who is dying inside because they had to apologize. You imagined he was feeling a bit ashamed or even embarrassed for jumping to conclusions like that and being so off the mark. So you walked up to him and hugged him tight as you rested your head against his chest. You relaxed in his arms and smiled when you felt his hand grab your jaw and angle up your face. Your eyes met for a few tense seconds, you were preparing for him to ardently kiss you but suddenly his hand fell from your jaw and grabbed around your throat, right beneath your jaw. Your eyes widened in fear as his grip got a bit tighter by the second. His eyes were dark as he stared into yours.

“S-steven.” You gasped in concern as you started to run out of oxygen. You tried to wiggle out of his grip, eyes watery and full of fear as your nails dug into his wrist hoping to startle him out of whatever possessed him to do this.

“I don’t want you talking to or seeing him again. Never again. Do you understand me?” He demanded and you felt your entire body just turn cold. You had no idea how to even react to this change in Steven’s demeanor so you just nodded. “You’re going to be mine soon and I need to know that I can trust you fully.” He said “I want to trust you. But can I? Can I trust you to stay away from him?” he asked and you nodded again, you’d do anything to get out of this situation, “Then say it. Swear to me.” He insisted darkly as he loosened his grip around you.

“I-I’ll never talk to him or see him again.” You whispered, “I swear.” You insisted with tearful eyes and he let you go before walking out of the kitchen silently. 

You grabbed onto the counter because your legs unexpectedly lost their strength. You were panting, struggling so hard to breathe as this entire interaction processed in your brain. You suddenly felt extremely nauseated as a wave of fear overcame you. You trembled wordlessly for a bit, feeling so devastatingly mortal. You’d never had such little power. You’d never felt so small. After a short, uncomfortable, and contemplative moment you grabbed the carrot you had been working on and got back to grating. You just had to take deep breaths and grate.

You were walking on egg shells for the remainder of the night, doing anything and everything to act as normal as possible and not bait him into another aggression. Meanwhile, he was genuinely chatting with you so casually, as if he hadn’t just grabbed you by the throat like that. It terrified you that he wasn’t acting, he was genuinely fine. You were questioning yourself now, wondering if there were signs you missed? Granted, you were now getting into more serious turf, but there was nothing that you’d seen before that indicated towards him ever behaving this way. Even as you lay in bed attempting to get some rest you just stared at your ceiling thinking about that moment. How dark his eyes looked…did you need to tell someone? It’s not like he’d actually hurt you…or threatened you…he just made you promise to stay away from Harry. There wasn’t even a mark on you. Who would believe you or what could you even do about it?

He sweetened up intensely after that though and it had your mind reeling. Even when you’d had sex earlier he had been so possessive. Normally, any type of sensual talk got you going but when he told you he was “going to make you his” as he finished it didn’t have the usual or intended effect, it made you feel uneasy and made you regret having slept with him after what had happened earlier on. You immediately hopped into the shower because you just needed to wash off the memory of him of on you. You held in your tears because you thought he would join you but he just called out a goodbye after some minutes. But even in your solitude you were practically frozen and emotionless. You’d never experienced him like that and it worried you, so you decided to talk to your friend about it.

*****************

You were nervous to talk to Marie about this because she was also his cousin, but you just needed to know if there was a history to Steven that you didn’t know yet. Maybe he’d done something like this before, just got aggressive and overly possessive with another partner? Or perhaps he’d been cheated on and severely overreacted because of his past hurt? But Marie’s sort of distant demeanor should’ve tipped you off that things were not going to be good with this conversation.

“Thanks for meeting me. I actually wanted t-to talk to you about something important.” You said as soon as the waiter left after bringing your drinks. “Something that happened w-with Steven.” You said and she pulled away from her straw.

“Look, you don’t need to tell me what happened, Y/N.” She interjected, “Steven already told me.” She said flatly and for a second her anger seemed just. You were glad she was angry at him for you. “And look I love you and you’re my friend, but quite frankly, I can’t believe you’d go and hook up with Harry after how good Steven has been to you.” She said and your jaw dropped in shock.

“W-wait what?” You asked incredulously.

“Don’t do that with me, Y/N. I know how weak you are for Harry.” She said and you shook your head, “I mean…I did warn Steven early on t-to be careful and take his time with you because you’d probably cave and run back to Harry.” She said and you frowned, “But after all this time? I mean Jesus, Y/N! The man pretended like you didn’t exist for almost a year! How little self respect do you have t-to allow him back in after everything?!” She questioned you with disappointment and a harsh judgement.

“Is that really what you think of me?” You asked her and she sighed.

“Look, I’m sorry for being so harsh but I love you and I’m angry at you for cheating on my cousin. He’s a good guy!” She defended her stance and you shook your head.

“I didn’t cheat on your cousin. We’re not even in an official or exclusive relationship so even if I had fooled around with Harry he has nothing to be upset over! He’s the one who hasn’t wanted to be exclusive yet!” You corrected and Marie smiled incredulously down at her drink, “You don’t have to believe me about Harry if you don’t want but believe this, Steven? He’s not a good guy.” You said and she looked up at you again fully offended.

“Y/N, look-”

“No, listen to me. I just need you t-to hear me out. Last night he…h-he grabbed me really hard by the throat and made me swear I would never talk to or see Harry again. He terrified me.” You confessed and her eyes didn’t even soften up, “I came t-to ask if maybe I’d struck a nerve by mistake, looking to justify how he behaved towards me but the fact that he got to you first and lied about what happened…that just confirmed to me that I want nothing to do with him. He’s a ticking time bomb and I refuse to be collateral damage.” You said as you stood from your seat.

“How dare you.” She said and stood as well and you shook your head. “You can’t just go around throwing accusations about someone like that! Especially about this sort of thing! It could ruin him, Y/N!” She said with a quiet and calculated rage.

“Believe what you want, but I want nothing to do with either of you ever again.” You said to her and walked off. When you sat in your car you were trembling with rage, you could not believe the last 24 hours of your life. You were just collecting yourself before taking off, you didn’t want to get on the road with that much anger flowing through your veins. You jumped in surprise when your phone started ringing loudly from your purse and you groaned and reached for it and when you saw Harry’s name on the screen you just felt a wave of comfort and then it turned into fear. You knew Steven wasn’t here but you couldn’t help but glance around your immediate surroundings before answering the call.

“Hello?” You spoke into the receiver tentatively.

“Y/N, I ummm, I need you to come down to my hotel right away if you can.” He said to you and you felt your stomach drop.

“W-why?” You asked him nervously.

“Your boyfriend broke into my suite and tried to attack me.” He said and you gasped. “Are you alright?” You asked instantly.

“Yeah, thankfully. But now h-he’s telling the officers that you put him up to this.” He said lowly, “Just come and we’ll sort this out.” He assured.

“Okay, I’ll be there soon.” You said and took off despite your heightened emotions.

Just before you arrived to Harry’s suite you saw a pair of officers guide Steven away down the hall in hand cuffs. He had a bandage over his nose and a busted lip. He barely held eye contact with you as they pulled him along. You rushed down the hall and hurried into the open suite more than relieved to see a paramedic only icing Harry’s hand while he talked to one of the officers looming over him.

“Oh my god, I’m glad you’re okay!” You exclaimed in relief and he stood right away and hugged you tight as you leaned into him and that’s when all of your emotions from even the night before caught up with you and you started to cry. 

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s alright. I’m alright.” He assured you lowly.

“Yeah, but sometimes you minimize things to not worry anyone so…” you reminded and he chuckled a little as you pulled back, “I’m so sorry about this, H. Sincerely. Genuinely! I-I can’t believe he went as far as pulling something like this.” You expressed, still quite flabbergasted at what had gone down. Harry rubbed over your back in comforting circles.

“It’s alright. I’m alright.” He assured you, “He’s worse off than I am.” He smirked a bit as he delivered this news.

“Oh, I saw.” You chuckled through your tears and he hummed. “You’re not gonna get into any trouble, are you?” You asked.

“No, love.” He assured you, “I acted in self-defense so we’re all clear there. He did give me a good scare though.” He said more seriously and you sighed. 

“This never should have happened…I just don’t get it where this came from? I swear, this is not at all like him! I’ve never seen him behave this way in the couple months we’ve been seeing each other. Even last night was just so out of character for how he’s always been towards me! And I’m not trying to make excuses for him. Clearly this is fucked-”

“Wait. What happened last night?” Harry asked you more seriously and you sighed and shook your head.

“Nothing, really.” You said to him and he gave you a look, not a scary one, just an insistent one. You sighed and shrugged, “Last night when I…when I told him we met up to talk and get closure he got really angry at me. Like, he was livid. It was truly an overreaction to me mentioning that I was really happy over having received that apology from you but that I felt like I had been awkward about it and left it weird with us.” You explained, “Then, he asked why I didn’t ask for permission t-to talk to you or see you or why I didn’t ask him to come with me? And I explained that I agreed to meet with you so that we could clear the air so that I could move on with him in peace and he accused me of fooling around with you.” You explained monotonously as you felt like you were there all over again, “I assured him we just talked and he then pretended like it was fine and apologized half-heartedly… and I went in to hug him but then it’s like a switch flipped.” You recounted what had happened, “I thought he was going t-to kiss me but he…” your voice faded out into an exhale, “H-he grabbed me so hard by the throat and made me swear that I wouldn’t see o-or talk to you ever again-”

“Miss?” One of the officers interrupted and you turned towards the officer as Harry released you just a bit. 

“Yes?” You asked softly.

“Can you elaborate more on this altercation?” He asked and you swallowed thickly.

“I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.” You said softly, eyes now laser focused on Harry’s dangling pendant as your vision started to blur with more building tears. You were scared more than worried about getting Steven into any more trouble and Harry could see that. “Love, look at me.” Harry insisted and you blinked rapidly as one of your tears trickled down your cheek before you looked up at him, “If he did anything to scare you, you need to report it.” He said, “He’s fucked as it is for this, he can’t do anything to you ever again. He won’t.” Harry assured you and you nodded.

You proceeded to explain what had happened and how he had grabbed you. You explained that you felt intimidated and frozen and unsure of what to do next after the altercation. You were asked why you didn’t call the police or make a report and you explained that you didn’t think there was anything to report. He hadn’t technically hit you or injured you. You had no visible marks on you or anything to prove this apart from the fear you’d been harboring ever since. But the officer informed you that even a forceful grab is considered assault in the sate of California. And that speaking to you that way, exerting any tactics to make you feel subdued or intimidated were also considered acts of aggression and intimidation that were reportable offenses. And after a few more questions and you assuring them that he had never done anything like this to you before they moved back to the situation with Harry. With police reports filed they went on their way and you offered to get Harry a new place to spend the rest of his trip.

**************

It was just a few hours later and you were sitting in your living room waiting for Harry to come out of the shower and for his lawyer to arrive. You felt awful for this whole thing with Steven, you really had no idea he was a psycho like this. Marie had actually tried calling you almost 20 times and had sent you about 15 texts asking you to call back and that she was sorry for not believing you earlier. You were still too angry at her to respond so you put your phone on “Do Not Disturb” and just focused on the TV and wondered if it was a good idea to have brought Harry to your home. You had found another place for him to stay but before you booked it he asked if it would be alright to use your guest room because he was concerned for your safety since Steven knew where you lived. 

His concerns were valid. And you knew that Steven was well connected and had several lawyer friends who you were sure could get him out on bail by the morning, so you agreed to let him stay. You just didn’t want to also put Harry in harm’s way again. You would never forgive yourself if Steven did anything to hurt him. All in all, none of this felt real, you felt like you were in an unhinged daytime soap episode just waiting for another tragedy to befall you and those in your life. You were so on edge that you flinched in fright when the doorbell rang. Once the shiver passed through your body you hurried over to see through the peephole and saw Harry’s lawyer waiting there.

“Hi Darius.” You greeted him with a smile and he smiled back upon seeing you as well. It’d been quite a while.

“Y/N! Wow!” He chuckled, “It’s so great to see you!” He greeted you happily as you led him inside.

“Likewise! I think Harry’s just finishing up his shower, he had quite the day.” You said as you locked up behind him and he sighed.

“Yeah. I’m so sorry to hear about that. But I’m glad he’s safe and that you’re also safe.” He assured you and you thanked him before guiding him over to the kitchen and allowing him to get set up while you went to grab the Coca-cola he’d requested. 

It was just a couple of minutes before Harry joined you two and caught up a bit with Darius before he got into the story of what happened. Harry was going to follow through on pressing charges and he was even more motivated to get it all done ASAP when he heard what Steven had done to you the night before. He wanted to give Darius his statement as well while it was fresh in his memory so that it matched up perfectly to what he’d told the police and so he started answering the questions while Darius recorded and took notes as well. But hearing it in detail for yourself made it all the more sinister for you. You weren’t even thinking about it all that deeply when you reached for Harry’s hand under the table and he paused and briefly looked at you.

“Sorry.” You mouthed and started to pull it away from him but he instead tangled your fingers together and kept talking.

You stayed at his side for the rest of the time until Darius left, assuring you both that he’d let you know as soon as any headway was made in this case. With a final farewell you were locking up behind him as Harry waited for you just a small distance away. You sighed and turned to him.

“I’m so, so sorry about this, Harry. If I had know that he would do something like this… I mean, I just shouldn’t have said anything to him about you or-”

“Hey, it’s not your fault. How were you supposed to know, love?” He asked as he grabbed your face gently, right under your jaw and you swallowed thickly and he quickly slid his hands down to your shoulders. “Shit, I’m sorry. I forgot.” He said and you shook your head.

“It’s alright. It’s still fresh.” You reminded and he sighed and shook his head.

“I’m sorry…if I had just come back to you when I was supposed to we wouldn’t be in this mess.” He said and you sighed.

“You weren’t happy though, I mean…you preferred to be alone all this time instead of back with me so…it was the right thing for you at the time.” You said to him.

“You forgive me though, right? For not…” he trailed off and you nodded.

“Yeah, H.” You assured him and he pecked your lips quickly.

“Thank you.” He said quietly.

“Of course.” You whispered back. Your lips still tingling from his quick kiss. 

“Sorry, I just needed to kiss you.” He said and you smiled slightly.

“I get it.” You assured him. “D-do you want to…sleep with me?” You asked with a little bit of hesitation.

“Yeah, love.” He said without a hint of a doubt, “Of course. I’m a bit shaken up myself.” He said and you nodded.

“C’mon then.” You said and grabbed his hand and guided him to your bedroom. You guys washed up and then cuddled into your bed. 

You faced each other silently, just looking at each other, taking each other in. You were telling each other you had missed each other with your shared, longing gaze, but you refused to touch. You both loved the static and electric feeling buzzing between your bodies far too much. It was masochism in its purest form. It hurt to be apart, you missed his vibe. His energy. His presence…Harry was a warm, little ball of light, even on his dark days. He was the kindest, most thoughtful person you’d been is fortunate to encounter. He was so hard on himself also, and you knew he was angry at himself right now. You didn’t want him to be though, you wanted him to be here with you and enjoying this reunion, however unfortunate the situation was that led to it. 

The amount of love you felt for him was impossible. As you laid in silence you smiled because you had truly missed the sound of his breathing. You inhaled his exhales, feeling more than grateful to be within his reach. You wanted to feel him on you, skin to skin. You shivered as you felt this intense love just surge through you.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.” You said softly and sincerely. His eyes glanced down, averting from your gaze as he smiled in disbelief. “I mean it.” 

“Even after all this time?” He asked, “After everything I’ve done?”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t hurt by you.” You smiled and he chuckled, “But yeah, I still love you despite those things.”

“Enough to give me another chance?” He asked.

“I…I mean, yeah.” You chuckled nervously. “And I don’t know i-if I’m a complete fool for that?! But I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, baby. More so lately…” he said and you hummed.

“Why’s that?” You asked.

“Umm…I was cleaning out your side of things. Like to send ‘em back to you and I just…I found this little box in the corner on your side of the closet-”

“The memory box!” You exclaimed, remembering its existence.

“Yeah…I just got to see all of the wonderful things we’ve shared together. How you’ve been there for absolutely everything. You’ve never let me down.” He said softly, “And I just…felt like a total fool for dismissing that. Nothing feels the same without you, you’re the thing that just…tied everything together, you know? You made my heart feel…whole.” He explained, “When I say that I miss you that’s what I mean. I’ve been incomplete without you around, Y/N. I’ve been missing you from everything. I’m so sorry that I waited until I almost lost you to reach out to you…” he whispered with shame. You frowned and reached for his cheek

“Everything happens for a reason, honey.” You whispered, “I mean, I’m glad you came along at this time because you saved me from a potentially dangerous situation.” You said more solemnly.

“I’m glad I was here for this. May-maybe this is a…sign of sorts for you to come back home with me.” He said a bit carefully. 

Harry was nervous to bring this up to you but he really just didn’t want you staying anywhere near this man. He wanted to be certain that he could keep you safe, that he could protect you and ensure that you were never so easily in harm’s way again.  And on top of that, his love for you continued simmering lowly in the background, it had never gone out. He just fled out of fear and he regretted it so much. He had been selfish and didn’t realize it until far too late. It filled him with gratitude that you’d even hear him out for an apology, let alone give him another chance. A chance that he may have blown with this suggestion he’d just put out there.

“Ummm…I…I’m not sure w-what to say to that.” You responded honestly, “Like, my first instinct is to say yes.” You chuckled nervously and while he was relieved to hear that, he held off his excitement to hear what would come next, “But like you’ve acknowledged a couple times already, we’ve been apart for a while and I think we both hurt each other to some extent and I worry that…in jumping right back into where we left things off that we’ll forget about all of the issues that led to us breaking down instead of working through them.” You said and he hummed.

“Yeah, that’s extremely valid.” He responded, “And I guess I want this right now mainly because I don’t want you here all alone.” He explained, “I realize we have things to work through before we can get to where we were before all this. And I’m so willing to put in the work with you to get to that stage again. But right now I just want to ensure that you’re safe and far away from that prick, Steven. That’s my main concern as of now, baby.”

“Well thank you for worrying about me. I would love to leave with you but I don’t think it’d be a smart move.” You sighed.

“Even just for a few weeks until things cool off a bit? I can set you up somewhere else even.” He said and you bit your lip pensively.

“I’ll think about it.” You responded.

“Okay, that’s…that’s enough for me.” He whispered back.

***********************

It  was a couple weeks later when Steven finally showed up at your place. Obviously you had the locks changed, so his key didn’t work, which really angered him. And when you heard him shouting at you and pounding on the door, threatening to break in if you didn’t allow him in, you immediately called the cops as you had a restraining order filed against him. You also recorded everything this time as you tried to calmly coax him into leaving before they showed up. He was angry that Harry was pressing charges against him and he wanted you to talk him out of it. You knew better than to say anything about Harry’s case, so instead you asked Steven how he even got access to Harry’s location. Up until this point it was all speculation, you just assumed he grabbed the information off of your phone, that really was the only way. But there was no proof yet that this was a premeditated aggression on Steven’s end. So when he confessed to you that he searched for the information on your phone you were relieved and would submit that as further evidence to get a more strict order against him.

He refused to leave and the longer you didn’t let him in the angrier he got and even broke a window. Thankfully, the police were just arriving when this happened and they submitted an Emergency Protective Order, this was far more strict than the restraining order but that was really all they could do. You really didn’t feel safe anymore so the next morning you contacted your landlord and explained to her what had happened and let her know that you’d have to terminate your lease early for your safety. She was kind and didn’t make you pay the extra fee or even make you finish out a whole month, she just hoped you’d fine somewhere else soon. 

You contacted Harry and of course, he said you could stay with him for a little bit. You felt stupid for not just doing that to begin with like he had suggested. But the reality was that he had also hurt you and let you down and you were worried about what moving in together again so soon would do to impact your future. But for the time being this felt like the safest choice. Steven knew your friends and co-workers in the area thanks to Marie, so there was no one you could go to in LA that you felt he wouldn’t think of. It pained you to quit your job and pack up your life and go, but you needed to. Of course, Harry welcomed you with open arms and you were grateful to know that you were a whole continent and ocean away from LA right now. 

*****************

It had been three weeks of you living with Harry and things had been going well so far. You felt drained though, like completely fatigued from everything, you often felt this way when you were anxious or depressed so you prioritized reconnecting with your therapist from before right away. You were seeing her every week so far and were eager to see and feel the results of doing this deep and healing work after what had happened to you and Harry in LA. You also reconnected with a few friends and they were helping you network a bit to find a job. Harry assured you that he was more than capable to take care of you but you didn’t feel comfortable with that, especially since your romantic future together was still a bit up in the air.

You two were doing well, you were reconnecting as friends more than anything right now. Living with him was comfortable though, you had lived together before though, so you knew how to exist in the same space together. You soon noticed that just being in a situation that was familiar to you both was making you both more affectionate towards each other though, which you both had been working hard to keep at bay. Of course, the feelings were there, but having those little things that reminded you, you weren’t alone made you smile, like now…

“Baby, I’m home! Are you here?” Harry called as he came into the house.

“Yeah, I’m in the laundry room!” You called back over the rumble of the washing machine as you folded your laundry. Moments later he was coming into the small, warm room with a smile on his face.

“Hi, love! How was it today?” He asked as he came up to you and hugged you.

“It was good. I met with Poppy and her friend, Sheila, she’s the one who just started up her own tanner line or something and needs an accountant? She’s interested, so I’m meeting with her and her partner again her next week when she’s back from her vacation to see about the position.” You shared.

“That’s really good. Hopefully it pans out.”

“I hope so too.” You said as you dropped the t-shirt you were working on in the basket with folded laundry so that you could interlace your fingers as you clung to him.

“And like I said before though, no rush, okay? You’re doing plenty to help out here. And after everything else you’ve been through, taking it slow can’t hurt.” He added.

“Thank you. I really do appreciate that, H.” You smiled.

“Of course, love.” He hummed. You pulled back slowly and looked into each other’s eyes. “I’m really happy you’re here.” He reassured you.

“Thank you, baby.” You whispered.

“Baby?” He asked with a grin and you rolled your eyes and sighed.

“Well, I mean…you call me that, so…”

“It feels right, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” You agreed with a smile.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” You whispered with a smile. He tucked your hair behind your ear and kissed your cheek.

“Can I kiss your for real?” He asked you quietly and you just nodded. Moments later your lips met in a tentative kiss. There was a little bit of hesitation at first but seconds later you were kissing with more depth. Your hands held his as he cupped your face tenderly as you continued to kiss. You’d kissed very quickly a handful of times since your arrival but nothing like this where you could feel yourself getting all hot and bothered by it.

“Baby…” you mumbled into the kiss.

“Right…sorry.” He hummed and let you go breaking the kiss abruptly and you chuckled as you blindly reached down your leg and finally grabbed the dryer sheet that was half hanging out of the dryer and tickling your leg. You crumbled it up and tossed it in the garbage bin just a few feel away from you before turning back and looking up to him.

“You can continue now.” You said with a small smile and he grinned before picking you up and setting you on the dryer as your mouths met with more urgency. Your kiss and need started to grow and grow and boil over very quickly.

It really wasn’t planned when he carried you to his room and got you undressed. Even though you’d yet to resolve everything from before, you didn’t feel worried or wrong about this. You felt comfortable and beautiful as you felt his bare skin against your own. You were eagerly awaiting it as he kissed down your body and made you feel so good along the way. He wasted no time in getting down and going down on you, showing you just how much he had missed you. He savored you and gave you his best until you were starting to lose your grip on reality.

“Oh fuck, I missed you…” you giggled through a moan as his tongue did it’s wonderful work between your legs. You were tingling all over as he flicked over your clit until you were trembling and then he started to suck, “Oh my god!” You gasped as your eyes started to roll back. “I’m getting so close!” You warned. 

Your lips parted and you started to pant when he started to work two fingers into you. Your breath hitched when he curved them up into your g-spot. You felt your body melt into the bed for a second before he started to fuck into you harden until you were so tense your legs trembled as you started to come. The soft moans flowing from your lips were egging Harry on, making him even more hungry for you. You pulled him back up to you and your lips met eagerly as you reached for the button of his jeans.

“Want ‘em off?” He asked and you nodded, “Sure, baby?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, baby. I want you. I need you.” You whispered and he smiled before kissing your lips quickly before pulling back a bit.

“I just…I need you to know that if we do this I want us t-to be the thing that means we’re going to try again.” He said and your gaze softened, “Obviously, I’ve missed your body and having you like this, but this is more than that to me. I want it to  be more than that.” He said and you nodded.

“I do too, baby. I want to try again. I really do.” You said to him with welled up eyes and he smiled and kissed you slowly again.

“You are everything to me.” He mumbled as you helped get his pants off blindly as he tugged the material down, “I’m never going to forget that again. I swear it, baby. You make me so fucking happy.” He panted as he toed off the pants before he climbed over you and pulled you up with him towards the the top of the bed. You climbed over his lap and kissed his passionately. Harry’s hands roamed your naked body with expertise. He knew the spots to touch and to pay mind to as you guys worked up to the love-making bit. You too appreciated his body. You touched and kissed over his body and took his length into your mouth, working him up just a bit more before you two had sex. 

“Shit, baby…fuck that’s so good!” He groaned as you sunk down on him until you gagged around his tip. You weren’t as used to his size as you once were. 

“Careful, baby. Go easy.” He reminded as he stroked over your cheek lovingly before running his thumb along your stretched out bottom lip. He loved seeing how you fit him in your hot little mouth. It had his abs clenching hard as you rolled and fondled his heavy balls in your hands until he was fighting the urge to start thrusting in your mouth. “Baby, please…please, I need you.” He panted and you popped off of him and glanced up at him.

“Can I get on?” You asked and he swallowed thickly.

“A-are you sure you want this?” He asked and you nodded.

“I do, H. I want this with you. I want everything with you. Everything that we had, I want it all back. I love you more than anything in the wor-” he cut you off with his kiss and laid you down. You were dying of impatience as hi heavy erection glided against your slicked up and swollen folds, you were so ready to have him back.

“I love you. I love you so much.” He whispered as he lined up to your entrance.

“I love you too. Please just…I need you.” You begged and so he pushed forward until he was sinking deep in your hot, wet little hole until he bottomed out. 

You hissed as you adjusted back to his size, he was great about it, so patient and eager to get you going by rubbing over your clit until you were so wet you were sliding up and down his shaft. He watched you hungrily as you lifted your hips up and down to feel him moving inside of you. But it got to the point where he needed to take over and just get you both to come. His thrusts were deep and slow, he was bottoming out with each one, it was making your brain blank each and every time he sunk into the deepest part of you. Your body was tingling and your walls fluttering and pulsing around him with every movement. Everything felt so good with him. He was looking down at you with so much adoration it was making you even more emotional.

“Baby, baby don’t cry.” He chuckled as he kissed your forehead as a few tears streamed down your cheek.

“It just feels so…good.” You sniffled and he kissed you quickly, “It feels so good to be with you.” You hummed as you rolled your hips up against his and he moaned lowly and kissed you again.

“Yeah? Are you gonna come for me?” He asked and you nodded. “Good girl, let me know when you’re getting close.”

“I will.” You whined out as he delved deep and ground against you until your eyes squeezed shut, “Shit!” You gasped as he started thrusting a bit faster into that spot until you just felt yourself leaking around.

“Fuck…” he laughed, “Fuck, you’re so wet f’me, I-I’m getting close.” He panted and you whined and started to rub your clit to catch up to him.

In a few moments you were right there on the edge with him. Your back was arching as you moaned his name as your orgasm nearly took you out. Your ears were ringing and your vision was blurring as you started to come around him. He started to thrust faster to get off, but he was drawing out your orgasm until you were trembling.

“Fuck…fuck, I’m coming!” He warned as he started to press himself up to pull out. “Oh fuuuuck…” he moaned as he started to stroke himself as he came all over your mound. He thrusted his sensitive cock through your folds, making a little mess of you before kissing you ardently. “I love you. Love you so fucking much.” He whispered, his voice cracked as he started to cry and you pulled him into your chest and held him tight as you both just let your raw emotions out in this moment. 

You both needed it desperately. After he settled down he hurried to get something to clean you off and then you started to talk about you two. What you wanted, what you hoped to see in the future. You’d had these conversations before but even now the things that Harry was saying to you were complete different than before. Losing you seemed to be the thing that woke him up to how much he’d been taking you for granted. He’d gotten used to it, he’d gotten complacent at your expense.

“It’s going to be so different this time.” He said softly as he looked deep in your eyes, “I will be different this time.” He assured and you sighed.

“I believe you…there’s just a little part of me that is still not ready to let you back in.” You explained after he had explained how he was going to show up for you from now on, “I want to just trust you fully, but I’m afraid that you’ll make a fool of me again. That you’ll hurt me again.” You explained, “And I know y-you won’t but I just need to let you know that I’m still learning to trust you fully again.” You explained. “So please just…be a little patient with me.” You requested and he smiled.

“I know, baby. I will be patient with you and I will do everything I can to prove to you that I will never do anything to make you doubt choosing me again.” He said and kissed you slowly. You smiled into the kiss and let him pull you closer to him again and that’s how you fell asleep, nestled close together.

….. ONE MONTH LATER ….

In this short amount of time things had drastically shifted between you and Harry. You’d started to go on a date a week, doing thoughtful things for each other, sharing your feelings as they arose, communicated openly…he’d matured a lot in your time apart and helped you overcome your fears faster than you anticipated. You were so proud of him and it was spilling over into every moment. Like now, you were filled with a surge of love as you wandered into the kitchen to see him pulling out your favorite salad dressing from the fridge.

“Hiya, baby. What’re you up to?” You asked.

“Just making us your favorite salad for a light lunch.” He said.

“Wow, lunch already?” you asked and he smiled as you went over to him and hugged him from the back as you peeked over to his hands, eager to direct him on how much dressing he needed to add.

“Yeah, love!” He chuckled, “We had breakfast at 8! It’s already past 2pm.” He informed you and that surprised you. But you’d been so sucked into your work that it was very possible that you forgot to even feel hungry.

“Oh, I didn’t realize.” You explained and he frowned a bit.

“Baby, have you been feeling alright? It’s not just today, I’ve noticed that you haven’t had much of an appetite at all lately.” He pointed out and you frowned as you gave it some thought and realized that yeah, this was something you’d been feeling for at least two weeks. Maybe it was intense PMS? You hadn’t gotten your period since moving here, so you hoped it was just your body finally catching up with itself.

“You’re right…I mean, I have very visceral reactions to stress and big changes…I mean, my whole body and system have just been out of whack for a little but they’ll balance out again.” You assured him and he hummed.

“That’s true, it’s been hectic for you.” He said as he opened up the dressing bottle, “Honestly, I was thinking that-” he stopped as you gagged as the scent of the dressing wafting up towards you. You had to let him go and go hunch yourself over the sink as you felt the scent of the dressing just linger in your nose and mouth. “Baby…?” Harry came over and rubbed your back slowly, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah…” you grimaced, “But I think the dressing is bad. Didn’t you smell that? It was rank!” You turned to him with a disgusted look on your face and he frowned.

“I didn’t smell anything. You look a bit awful now though. You’re all pale.” He said feeling your forehead and you exhaled slowly to ward off the nausea that you suddenly felt making your head spin.

“I might throw up, the dressing smells so bad.” You explained and he frowned and turned to the counter and brought it up to his nose and it smelled just fine to him. He even checked the bottle for the usage date and it was still good. 

“This is fine…should I mix your salad with something else then?” He asked and you shook your head.

“I think I’m fine. I’ll just have some toast.” You said and he nodded. Eventually, you had to go back to your “office” and leave him hanging for lunch because you could not handle the look and scent of the salad, especially that dressing. By the time dinner rolled around you were still feeling a little off so you just had some veggies in a chicken broth and that was that.

*******************

You’d truly forgotten about your sensitive sense of smell until once again, you were assailed by an unbearable scent. Except this time it had happened at your friend, Poppy’s house. And this time you did actually get sick.

“God, I’m so sorry, P.” You apologized as you returned to her kitchen with embarrassment, “I swear its not your cooking, my nose has just been so sensitive lately and I get to grossed out by certain scents. I’m not sure what exactly yet though.” You explained to her.

“God, you sound like my sister when she got pregnant.” Poppy chuckled and you froze. That hadn’t even crossed your mind. Yeah, you’d missed your period for the last two months but literally everything impacted your period, your cycle was fickle, especially when you were under as much stress as you’d been. You weren’t surprised that it hadn’t come at all. Truly, this wasn’t new to you, especially when you were stressed out, regardless of whether or not you were on the pill (which you weren’t after moving back here, you’d run out the week before you came out). Then, you recalled that when you and Harry had sex the first time he hadn’t used a condom. Yeah, he’d pulled out but that was never a guarantee.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Poppy asked you with concern.

“I think I should probably take a test just to rule that out. I mean, it’s…very unlikely but I was a bit irresponsible a bit ago and just need some peace of mind.” You said.

“Okay, I have some in my bathroom, let me get you one.” She offered and you nodded so she hurried off to get it for you.

You were sure you were good, but you just needed to see it for yourself. There was absolutely no way you could be pregnant, you weren’t ready for that. Harry wasn’t ready for that. Like emotionally you guys were, but you had just rekindled your relationship, the last thing you needed was something this crazy to throw a wrench in things so quickly after you’d gotten back together.

“Alright, here you are, babe.” She said handing over the box as she came up to you again.

“Thanks.” You smiled nervously.

“W-would you mind if I did it here?” You asked her and she smiled and shook her head.

“Of course not.” She assured you and with that you were off to the bathroom again, sitting there, willing yourself to pee enough to saturate the stick and finally it came and you put the cap back on it and washed your hands before coming out. “I hate to be that person but what if you are pregnant?” She asked and you sighed.

“I have no idea…” you confessed through a nervous chuckle while you stared at the wall blankly, “I mean, H and I just…God, we’re just getting back into the groove of things. Throwing a baby into the mix at this time isn’t going to make anything easier. It’s just not what we need right now.” You explained to her.

“Yeah, I get that.” She chuckled, “Cam and I try and then we stop because of the same thing and like…ugh, it’s just a vicious cycle! And genuinely, if you have that many doubts it’s just that you’re not prepared for it, you know? That’s what I had to tell Cam after a few months.” She explained and you nodded in understanding. “I-if you are…what do you think Harry’d say?” She asked and you sighed.

“I have no fucking clue…” you admitted, “Obviously, before, we had said we wanted to have a family together. But again, that was before everything went to shit with us.” You sighed, “And like, we’re in such a good place right now…” you sighed, “Like I know he wouldn’t be a prick about it but we’re not quite ready for that yet.” You chuckled nervously and Poppy nodded in understanding.

“Well, don’t worry, you’ll see in a few minutes that everything is fine.” She smiled with encouragement. 

You decided to believe her that everything was going to be fine. You were already booked for a full body, deep tissue massage next week with Poppy when your timer went off. You turned off the timer and then brought the test up closer and your heart stopped beating and you stopped breathing for what felt like an eternity. Staring right back at you, clear as day, were two little pink lines.

“Th-that means I’m…right?” You asked showing Poppy and she bit her lip nervously and nodded.

“Are you okay?” She asked you with concern and you just exhaled slowly. You were completely taken by surprise. Then you started to get worried.

“I ummm…I think I need to get home.” You said to her, still in shock. You swallowed thickly as you tried to imagine how Harry would react to the news that he would be a father.

“Do you want me to drive you over?” She offered, since you had walked from Harry’s to hers. It was just a 20 minute walk, you guys lived quite close.

“No, no, P, it’s alright. I think walking will be good for me, I need to…I need…” you trailed off as your eyes started to well up with tears as you started to imagine the worst case scenario.

“Hey…Hey, hey, hey, c’mere.” She said pulling you into her arms as you started to cry, “It’s going to be alright, babe. H is not gonna be angry, you know that.” She assured you as she rubbed comforting circles into your back as you held her tight. “You have options, yeah? You know that he’ll have your back no matter what.” She said and you nodded, “Let me get you home, yeah?”

“Okay.” You whispered to your best friend and she gave you one more squeeze before letting you go.

  Once you got to your place she encouraged you to have a shower and that she’d get some tea going for you. You texted Harry that you needed him to come home as soon as possible, you didn’t want this solely on your chest for another minute. You took your time and when Harry started pulling into your driveway Poppy popped in and let you know before shouting a goodbye to you. You sighed and relished in the warm water for just another moment before turning off the water. You were soon reaching for your robe and slipping into it. You padded over to the mirror to wash your face and you bit your lip before untying the robe and looking over your body. You looked the same, you saw no evidence of a baby.

“Baby?” You heard Harry calling from downstairs. Soon, his footsteps were heard coming up the stairs and you quickly tied your robe up and got to lathering your face wash in your hands.

“In the bathroom!” You called back before rubbing it into your skin. He rushed into the bathroom and looked more than relieved to see you intact.

“Are you alright?” He asked and you sighed and quickly bent over to rinse your face. You then dabbed it dry as you reached for your toner.

“I think so…” you responded after a little bit, “I don’t know.” You sighed as you grabbed your moisturizer.

“Well what’s going on? Hmmm?” He asked you as he came over and kissed your shoulder, his arms wrapped around your middled and pulled you in closer and suddenly you had to throw up again. You gasped and wriggled out of his hold and turned around to face him. Your eyes started welling up with tears again and you were just building up the courage to say it. “Baby, you’re worrying me.” He said softly and you swallowed thickly.

“Ummm…I…I’m pregnant.” You said and his jaw slightly dropped. He let out a small and nervous laugh before he just pulled you back into his arms without a single word. You hugged him back and just held each other for a little bit.

“What do you want to do?” He finally asked you and you shook your head.

“I have no fucking clue…” you said and he let you go and hoisted you up onto the counter. You draped your arms over his shoulders as he held your thighs, “I mean, what do you think?” You asked and he sighed.

“I don’t fucking know…I mean, that’s gonna be our baby so I…like I’m inclined t-to give it a try. But at the same time I don’t know that our relationship is ready for something like this. I mean, I want this with you in a few years but we’re just getting started again.”

“I know…I don’t even know how this…like you pulled out.”

“I know, but it’s not always a guaranteed thing.” He said and you sighed.

“I should’ve said something then…” you shook your head as you rubbed your forehead with one of your hands.

“Hey, there’s no point for any would’ve-should’ve-s,” he said, “It’s gonna be alright. We’ll figure it out soon, okay?” You nodded, “Just take your time, baby. Whatever you decide, I have your back.” He assured you and you nodded. He grabbed your face and kissed your lips until you were smiling.

“Stoooop.” You giggled, “M’not in the mood.” You pouted through your smile and he smiled.

“I think you’re lying.” He hummed and you rolled your eyes. “Look, how about we get an appointment with the doctor and see how far along you are and maybe that’ll help us decide what we might want to do.” He said and you nodded.

“Yes, good thinking.” You smiled, “God, I was so scared to tell you.” You sighed and he tutted.

“What made you think to take a test?”

“I smelled something P was cooking and got sick.” You said, you felt tour cheeks growing hot in embarrassment. Harry chuckled and then furrowed his brows pensively. 

“Didn’t you almost get sick at the salad dressing a bit ago?” He recalled and you chuckled.

“Yeah, that’s true…” you remembered, “I mean, I know I haven’t gotten my period but-”

“How was that not a sign?!” He chuckled in disbelief and you proceeded to explain how your period often skipped when you were under a lot of stress so this wasn’t an odd thing for you. But he was sweet, he was calm, but you could see the cogs just turning at full speed in his mind. You hoped he wasn’t angry at you, but you couldn’t help but think that he was and that he would run again. “I’m not angry, you know?” He mumbled softly and you glanced into his eyes and smiled a bit, “I can see it in your eyes, you know?” He whispered.

“You sure?”

“I am, baby. But I am…excited too…I mean, I don’t want to dwell on it too much incase we decide not to proceed with this but…I am. I mean, you’re the only person I want to have a life with. No matter how it happens, it’s you that I want to have babies with and raise them with and just share that experience with. So if you did want to continue with the pregnancy that would be good with me too.” He hummed.

“Okay. Thank you for your opinion.” You whispered before kissing his lips and hugging him tight against. You kissed at his neck as you just nestled yourself in the crook of it. “I love you.”

“I love you.” He smiled.

…. TWO DAYS LATER ….

You currently found your self peeing into a cup at the doctor’s office. You knew you were pregnant, but the doctor wanted to verify before they did an ultrasound to see where you were at. Once you finished you closed up the little jar and left it not he shelf as instructed. You washed your hands and then scurried across the hall and back into your room to see Harry intently reading the poster on the wall abut pregnancy.

“You know you get super horny during the second trimester.” He said in amusement, “As if you needed any more of that while pregnant…greedy.” He mumbled with a grin and you chuckled.

“You’re dumb.” You said as you went back over to the bench and sat again. You dangled your feet back and forth for a bit before Harry came over.

“What’re you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that…this is fucking insane.” You chuckled.

“In a good way?”

“Yeah…bad too.” You hummed and he nodded and leaned in to kiss your cheek.

“It’s going to be just fine, baby.” He assured you right as the doctor knocked at the door. “Come in!” Harry called and soon the woman was coming in.

“Hello, Y/N!” Dr. Sallow greeted you sweetly, “Glad you’re back!” She said with glee and you smiled.

“Thank you.” You replied, “And ummm, this is Harry, my…partner.” You said and she turned to him and smiled.

“Harry, wonderful to meet you.” She smiled and extended her hand and they shook them quickly before she walked over to the screen. “So, you’re here because you are pregnant.” She said and you nodded, “I can confirm that.” She smiled and Harry squeezed your knee when you inhaled sharply. It sort of felt official now. “So we can definitely do an ultrasound if you’d like, the room is available. Or did you have other questions?” she asked.

“Definitely an ultrasound. Want to know how far along I am and that sort of thing.”

“I’d assume fairly early if you’re just noticing any symptoms, so don’t be too disappointed if we don’t see much of anything just yet.” She forewarned and you both nodded. “Alright, I’m gonna have nurse Debbie set up the room and then she’ll escort you over and we’ll get a look at you.”

“Thank you.” You smiled and soon she excused herself before fluttering off to her next patient. You only waited a couple of minutes before nurse Debbie came to escort you to the ultrasound room and got you all set up. Harry was practically bouncing beside you with anxiety as he waited. 

“Let me get the doctor.” Debbie said and hurried out. You glanced over to Harry.

“Hey, hold my hand.” You said and he dragged a chair over and interlocked your fingers. “I’m so excited to see.” You whispered and he grinned wide.

“Me too.” He confessed and you chuckled. “Maybe we…think a bit more about keeping it…” he suggested and you smiled a bit.

“Yeah? You mean it?” You asked softly and he nodded.

“I do, baby.” He smiled. 

A few moments later Dr. Sallow was announcing herself again before coming in. She explained the procedure and then got the gel on you before grabbing the camera and gliding it over your tummy, looking for the best spot.

“Oh…there we are.” she hummed and Harry immediately shot upon seeing the image projected on the screen.

“Oh my god…” he whispered as he squeezed your hand tight and you smiled up at him quickly before you both glanced back over to the screen.

“So that there is the head and the arms and legs…” she pointed out and shifted the angle, “Do you want to know the sex?” She asked as she turned to you and you chuckled.

“That’s…ummm, isn’t it a bit early to know that?” You asked her and she shook her head.

“Not at all, we can tell as early as 10 week if the position is right.” She explained and you’re heart stopped.

“And I’m already 10 weeks along?” You asked shakily as the realization of what this meant started to settle in. You felt Harry starting to pull his hand away from yours.

“Oh no, you’re more like 14 weeks, dear.” She said and that’s when Harry completely pulled away from you and you felt the air completely leave your lungs. You turned to him and he just clenched his jaw as he ran his fingers through the top of his hair. “So do you want to know?” She asked and you were so frozen that you nodded quickly as your eyes teared up. “It’s a girl.” She said with a smiled and you just nodded.

“That’s…that’s so great.” You whispered and then brought a hand up over your mouth in an attempt to muffle the sound as started to cry. Dr. Sallow turned to you quickly with concern and then you felt Harry’s hand grab yours again. You turned towards him and saw he was crying too. “I’m sorry.” You whispered and he shook his head.

“We’ll talk about it.” He said to you softly and you nodded.

“Is everything alright?” Dr. Sallow asked and you sniffled.

“Sorry, yes. I just didn’t mean to say that.” You explained and she apologized but you assured her it was fine. 

You just wanted to get out of there… you were mortified. This wasn’t Harry’s baby and now you really had no idea what to do. You always used condoms with Steven, but now that you knew he was psycho, you had no doubt that he was capable of sabotaging you like this. More than anything you were so hurt and angry that he had taken this from you and Harry. For a second you almost turned and asked for an appointment for an abortion but you glanced at the screen and you were flooded with guilt for even thinking that.

“Ummm, I’d like to leave.” You said as you started to sit up and Dr. Sallow was quick to clean you off. Harry helped you off of the reclining seat and you were back on the road not even ten minutes later. 

You were just silent the whole way home, you felt like shit. You felt awful for getting Harry all excited only to know that this was not his child you were carrying. You were so confused right now, you almost wanted to pinch yourself and hope you woke up. You could feel Harry continuously glancing over at you but you couldn’t look at him. There was no way you could look at him after this. It was over between you two…there was no way you could ask him to stay with you after this. It wouldn’t be fair to him. When you got to the house you made it to the stairwell and plopped down as you started to sob violently.

You moved to the side when you saw Harry coming over, assuming he was just going to go up to the bedroom. But then he crouched down and sat a step above you and pulled you into him by the shoulders.

“It’s o-”

“Don’t say it’s okay.” You cut him off, “This is not okay.” You whispered sadly. “I hate Steven.” You seethed and he swallowed thickly as you started to sob and he pulled you closer and kissed the side of your head.

“I love you, okay? This doesn’t change that for me.” He said to you and you shook your head.

“I would never ask you or expect to stay. It’s not fair to you, Harry…” you said sadly, “I was about to tell Dr. Sallow that I wanted to abort but then I saw the screen again and I just…I don’t think I can do it. That’s like…a part of me too and I just…I don’t think I can go through with it.” You said again, sputtering on your tears. “If that means that we’re over, I get it. I totally understand it.” You sniffled.

Harry frowned deeply as he heard you say this. His heart was completely torn right now. He thought you were reacting this way because you were going to terminate the pregnancy upon finding out that it wasn’t your baby together. But hearing you say that you wouldn’t be able to do that, it made him so angry and so hurt. Despite his own feelings about this, he fully understood why changed your mind. After seeing the tiny little thing tucked inside of you his heart was in shambles too. He was fully ready to advocate for you guys keeping it, but hearing how far along you were, it completely shattered his heart. He felt physically ill as the moment replayed in his brain. You’d both slept with other people during your time apart, so he wasn’t angry at that, it was more that it was Steven’s. A man who had hurt you and disrespected you and that scared you. It made the hate he felt for him grow even more intense than it already was. He was livid, he could kill him for taking this from you two. Harry had to decide how he would proceed from here. You were fully prepared to leave him again in order to keep this baby and the thought of it put so much sorrow in his heart. He didn’t want to lose you.

The idea of leaving you and letting you do this all on your own made his sad. You didn’t deserve that. You deserved to have a good pregnancy, one that came with a supportive partner, someone to share the experience with. He wanted to be the person to be there for you but right now the thought of that little thing growing inside of you made his blood boil with hatred. He couldn’t think clearly in the slightest. 

“I ummm…I love you so much, baby. I just, I think I need some time t-to process this and just think about it all.” He said to you and you nodded. “I love you though. You know that right?” He asked and you nodded again as he kissed the side of your head.

“Love you too.” You whispered and he hummed. “Should I go for a couple of days?” You asked quietly.

“No, baby.” He said quietly, “You stay here and rest up.” He hummed lowly, “I think I’m gonna go up north and just spend a few days with my mum, clear my head, if that’s alright?” He asked. You wanted to say no, the last thing you wanted right now was to be all alone with this information. But you had no choice but to agree, you had just put him in the most impossible position and he deserved to have the space to think about it as calmly and comfortably as possible.

“Yeah, sure.” You whispered.

“Can I tell my mum?” He asked and you sighed.

“Why the fuck not…” You chuckled through your tears and he pouted.

“Hey, look at me.” He insisted, “I won’t if you don’t want me to, baby. This is about you, about your body. If you want me to keep it to myself I will.” He assured.

“Sorry. I’m just afraid that it’ll change how she feels about me.” You explained nervously. You’d had a wonderful relationship with Anne. You missed her wisdom and kindness and friendship during your time apart from Harry and hearing that another man had impregnated you, her son’s girlfriend, well you’d understand if it upset her. 

“No…I mean, things happen. Accidents happen.” He said and you shook your head.

“Baby, I-I don’t think this was accidental because we used a condom every single time. I’m certain of it!” You wept, “Like I’m not stupid, or careless like that.” You assured.

“You think he ruined the condoms?” He asked and you sighed as you recalled all of the overtly possessive things Steven had been saying to you during sex the last month or so that you had been together. Things about making you his forever, about giving him babies one day, making you a mom…you thought he was just introducing some of his preferences in bed with that kind of talk, but maybe it was more than that. 

“It’s very possible.” You said softly.

“Jesus…” he shook his head, “How fucked up was this guy?” He asked you and you shrugged.

“I never saw that side of him before all of this.” You said and Harry sighed and nodded. After a moment of silence he cleared his throat.

“Ummm…I’m just gonna pack and head out soon, want to avoid that rush hour traffic near Birmingham.” He said and you nodded. 

He stood up and then offered to help you stand as well before you guys went up to the room. You sat on the bed as you watched him pack a couple days worth of clothes. You wanted to ask him to stay, but you couldn’t be that selfish. This was the least you could do for him after that a-bomb was just dropped on him. Not to mention the a-bomb you’d just dumped on him too. When he finished packing up his bag he went over and kissed you quickly.

“I’m not running away from you, okay? I just need to clear my head.” He reassured you, his words were mumbled against your forehead before he kissed you there, “I love you so much.” He whispered before kissing your lips.

“Love you.” You mumbled, “Text when you get there, yeah?”

“I will, baby.” He assured.

“Be safe.”

“Always.” He hummed before he bid you farewell once more before he left. 

Once you heard him pull out of the driveway you just curled up on your side and started to cry. This couldn’t be real…there was no way this could be real. You felt completely defeated. The only thing you could think that made you happy was that you never wanted Steven to know about this, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. You had no idea how that would go down with your child in the future, but right now you wanted him not to know a single thing about you ever again. After coming to that conclusion you ended up calling your mom and telling her everything that happened. You talked and cried for nearly an hour before she had to go, but not without promising she’d call again and chat the next day in order to keep you some company, even from afar. 

After that you decided to draw yourself a warm and relaxing bath, that always made you feel so calm. So you started out on that, letting your bath bomb melt in the warm water as you made yourself a nice cup of tea, your last caffeinated one for the foreseeable future, and then got inside.

*****************

Harry had been driving up the M1 motorway for a bit before he quickly texted his mum his ETA. This caused her to call him right away and ask what this surprise visit was about, but he couldn’t speak when he answered her call. He just sobbed, he sobbed for nearly 15 minutes before he shared what had happened that morning at the doctor’s office. He explained everything he was feeling, even the bad things he was thinking, but the one thing that kept coming up was how much he loved you.

“I love her so much but I just don’t think I could get past the fact that, that prick is the baby’s dad…I cannot for the life of me sit with that information and not become enraged by it.” He said, it pained him to spare Steven a thought.

“D-do you feel angry at Y/N for being with him?” She asked and he frowned.

“No/ It’s not like I didn’t see other people but I hate that she thinks that I couldn’t be with her after this. Like, I think about letting her go, like she’s saying, and it absolutely guts me.” He explained. “And like…I feel bad that it crossed my mind at some point, but not for the reasons you might think, it’s just that I don’t know i-if I am even prepared to take that role on.” He sniffled.

“No one ever is, even when it’s meticulously planned, H.” She reasoned and he sighed,

“Are you concerned about him wanting to come back into her life?” She asked and he nodded.

“Yeah…a bit.” He admitted, “I mean, I don’t think he’s the type to take any accountability for his actions but if he finds out about it he’s so arrogant that he might want to just to make her uncomfortable. I mean, Y/N thinks it may have been deliberate because she said she always made sure t-to use protection. I mean, I wouldn’t put it past him to do something like that, the man was completely mad.” He shared and his mum hummed in understanding.

“Well sweetheart, it doesn’t sound to me like you’re all that conflicted. It sounds to me like you don’t want to end things with her.”

“Of course not! But what if I…what I can’t love that baby as much since I now know this?” He asked.

“I-is that what’s holding you back?” She asked and he hummed on confirmation. He felt like a complete prick saying that but he was legitimately concerned about this. What if you went on to have your own kids together and it just changed something in him? What if he was open to being with you now but then changed his mind? What if he saw Steven every time he saw that baby and only felt anger instead of love? The chances of something like this happening were extremely low, practically non-existent, but not 0%. And in the end he would hurt you and that baby even more if he walked out because one of these things happened.

“You know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think you will love her just fine, H. You know why?” She asked and he hummed, “Because out of everyone in the world you know the impact that one incredible and dedicated man can have on a child.” She said and he sniffled, “You’ve seen for yourself that a biological connection is not needed to give someone unconditional love and support. You’re lucky, you got that from two fathers.” She said and he smiled.

“Yeah.” He whispered.

“I’m not saying that it won’t be scary and difficult at times t-to do this, but it can also be extremely beautiful and rewarding. You’re both such wonderful people that if you decided to stay and do this together you could impact that child’s life for the better, just like yours was.” 

“Right…” he said softly

“And well, honestly sweetheart, these concerns you have, they’re things you need to figure out with Y/N. She will listen to you, H. I mean, if you’re feeling this conflicted about things I can’t image how she must be feeling now.” she said with sympathy and when he saw himself nearing Birmingham he felt awful. It got as bad as him feeling sick to his stomach as he pictured your fearful and distraught face back in the bedroom. He’d done it again, he’d left you hanging at a time when you needed his love and support the most. He loved you so much, he could not believe he’d left you alone in that state. And in two seconds he started to signal to get off of the motorway.

“Mum, I ummm…I need to go back and be with, Y/N.” He decided, “I shouldn’t have left here there by herself after everything she had to hear today…I’d be surprised if she was still there after I just walked out…fuck!” He groaned in frustration.

“H, she loves you so much.”

“I love her too…why do I keep doing the wrong thing and hurting her?” He cried now as he got off at the next exit. He was waiting for the traffic to clear before he could make his turn to turn around.

“I think it kind of scares you, how much you love her. And I think in a way you might feel like you could lose her, so you pull back regardless of how that might make her feel. It’s self preservation.” She explained and he swallowed thickly. Hearing this helped him mentally decide that he wasn’t going to run any more, after everything he’d done you’d given him another chance regardless of the possibility of him hurting you again. This was his chance to show you that his love for you was bigger than everything else. “Don’t be afraid to open your heart, sweetheart.” She added and he hummed.

“Alright, thank you for listening. I’m just gonna call Dr. A and ummm…hopefully sort some mental things out before I get back to Y/N.” He said.

“Okay, bub. Be safe, please let me know when you’re home safe. I love you.”

“Love you.” He mumbled before he hung up and got back onto the motorway but heading back towards the South. He wasn’t going to do the same thing again and leave all alone to guess just how much he loved you, not this time. He was going to be there for you and support you and love you both.

*****************

It was a bit odd to you when you heard the large gate to Harry’s house opening up. But then you recalled that sometimes his PA would do errands that required him to come to the house. So you just got out of the tub quickly and rinsed your body off in the shower before getting into your robe in case he came upstairs for any reason. You were just getting one of Harry’s hoodies when you heard his voice.

“Baby? Are you still here?” He called out as you heard the front door shut heavily against the frame. You hurried into the yoga pants you’d grabbed and rushed out to see him coming up the stairs. 

“You came back.” You sighed in relief as he hurried up and he just pulled you right into his arms and you started to cry.

“I’m so sorry. I should never have left you like this, baby.” He sniffled as he kissed your head over and over again. “I love you so much. I love you so fucking much.” He assured you. “I’m not leaving you alone with this, baby.” He said to you and you pulled back a bit to look at him.

“What do you…mean by that?”

“It means that we’re doing this together.” He said to you and you shook your head.

“I can’t…I couldn’t do that to you.” You said to him and he shook his head.

“You’re not doing anything to me, baby. If you’re keeping this baby I am choosing to do this with you. I know it’s going to be hard but I will be there for you every step of the way and love our little babygirl with everything I am. I love you far too much to not see this through with you.” He said and you just broke down and hugged him tight.

You had no words, there was just joy. You knew this would be hard and challenging and even sad at times, but he’d come back to you and he wanted you to stay with him.

“I love you so much, H.” You finally whispered before kissing his lips.

“You’re everything to me, baby. We’re gonna get through this.” He smiled and you smiled.

“Promise?”

“I promise.” He smiled, “It was actually my mum who reminded me that biology had nothing to do with being a great father, so…she doesn’t hate you.” He said and you chuckled through your tears.

“Good, that would’ve definitely been the worst outcome.” You said jokingly and he smiled. “And look, I know that there are a lot of logistics and other things to discuss and I’m still sorting through that mentally, s-so if you can just be a little patient with me while I…get that together in my head I would really appreciate that. I’m still processing that there’s a little person forming in there and it’s kind of…freaky.” You said as you looked up into his eyes and he sputtered on a laugh. You frowned at his reaction, “What?”

“I thought you were going to say it was magical or amazing, not freaky.” He giggled and you did as well. 

“Oh…well, I…I don’t feel…happy about it yet.” You confessed to him and this brought on a fresh wave of tears, “I feel like shit about that. Like I’m gonna be a mom, I should be happy, not freaked out, shouldn’t I?” You asked him.

“Not necessarily. You can feel however you want about it, baby.” He assured you, “Especially in this situation, it’s come as a surprise to you. I don’t judge you at all for not feeling happy about this yet, baby.”

“Promise?”

“I swear it.” He promised before pecking your lips again quickly.

“Thank you.” You whispered and he nodded and smile at you.

“Wanna do something to take your mind off of things for a bit?” He asked.

“Like what?”

“We can…sort through the pantry and fridge and see what foods you’ll have an aversion to?” He offered and you smiled and shook your head at his bizarre, yet completely productive suggestion. “I see you trying to hold back your smile.” He teased and you finally gave in.

“That’s the wildest but most genius thing you’ve ever suggested.” You giggled.

“I know. Imagine how smart our kid’s gonna be?! We’ve got this in the bag.” He said confidently.

“You think so?” You asked and he nodded.

“With you as her mum, I know so.” He smiled.

…. 1 YEAR LATER ….

You woke up feeling completely refreshed and renewed. It was absolutely quiet in the house and it was strange to wake up in silence. When you rolled over and looked at your phone you saw it was nearly 10am and shot out of bed. You had no idea how you’d slept in that much! The baby needed to be fed and changed! You hurried over to the nursery already thinking up an apology in your head for Ellie. But when you made it into the nursery it was empty. Harry had some work to do for Pleasing today so you knew he’d be out. Maybe he called someone to come look after the baby? When you passed by his home studio on the way to the kitchen you heard his voice along with others, so you knocked on the door.

“Come in!” He called quickly and you peeked inside and immediately smiled when you saw Harry spin around in the chair with Elara sitting on his lap, she was literally just chilling there while she drooled all over one of the newer nail polishes Pleasing would release soon. He smiled at you over the sounds of whoever was speaking right now. “Hey guys, are we good for today or is there anything else we needed to go over?” He asked with a smile as you waved from the background.

“We’re all good!” You heard and then heard the multiple voices bidding farewell to you and baby Elara before he hung up.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You said to him as you walked into the room to grab her from him.

“It’s alright, baby, we were just chatting a bit.” He assured you, “Weren’t we?” He asked the baby who just ignored him to keep attempting to bite the bottle in her hands before he started to rub at her back.

“I know you had work, you should’ve woken me up.” You said as you kissed his head.

“No way.” He chuckled, “You know, you slept through two whole alarms, you clearly needed the rest. I thought you were dead for second there.” He said with grin and you tutted.

“Don’t even say that.” You scolded.

“You’re right, sorry. Bad joke.” He corrected himself, “But really, my love, I don’t mind doing these launch plan meetings online, it’s none of the fun stuff so.” He shrugged and you smiled, “Besides when I have Ellie on camera everyone is so obsessed with her little smile that they’re so agreeable, so it’s a win-win.” He chuckled and you smirked.

“God forbid the paps see her and exploit her for money, but her own father is exploiting her cuteness for sway in the board room.” You said with a grin and he chuckled.

“Hey, she likes hearing all the commotion too.” He added and you smiled before kissing the top of her head and she sighed and laid over his chest making you both coo. “She finally slept through the night. Sorry you missed it.” He said softly and you chuckled.

“I’m sorry you’re so used to waking up to her crying that you noticed!” You giggled as you raked your fingers through his curls easily and he hummed.

“I don’t mind it. Reminds me that this little cutie is finally here.” He said and you smiled at how sweet he was with her.

“I can’t believe she’ll be six whole months tomorrow.” You said in disbelief.

“I know…S’your half birthday, bub.” He said to her and she just blinked tiredly, "She’s perfect though, isn’t she? Your little twin.” He hummed with pride as he looked down at her and then at you again. You nodded and watched him with her for a few moments.

Harry had nothing but love for baby Elara. He adored her completely. He almost felt silly for being so worried that he wouldn’t bond with her as genuinely as if she were his biological daughter. Once he saw you starting to show and you guys started shopping for the nursery, and picking out baby names, every ounce of doubt he had melted away. That was his daughter in every sense of the word. He had so much love for the both of you that he felt like his heart would burst sometimes.

“I love you so much.” You said to him and he glanced up at you.

“More than Ellie?” He smirked and you chuckled.

“The same, I think.” You hummed and he looked surprised.

“Oh wow, I was expecting a firm no.” He laughed.

“Oh my god…I love you both. It’s a bit different for sure but I somehow get it all to fit in my heart.” You said and he smiled as he stood up.

“Look at her, she’s about to pass out again.” He said as he looked down at the baby.

“I think we should get her back in the crib and have a cuddle. We can watch that show you’ve been pestering me about.” He suggested

“Love is Blind?” You gasped and he nodded. 

Soon enough you had washed your face and brushed your teeth, as you did every morning, all while Harry got Ellie down. But he soon joined you in bed as you waited for him to return. He climbed into the bed beside you and like a magnet, you immediately scooted right up against him and kissed him gently, it caught him by surprise.

“Thank you for letting me sleep in, baby. That was exquisite.” You confessed and he smiled and pecked your lips again.

“Of course, baby. Anytime.” He smiled. “I do have a question for you though…when are we going to have another baby?” He asked you and you giggled.

“Ummm, ask me in a year!” You laughed.

“A year?” He scoffed.

“Hey, it’s hard work!” You added and he smiled.

“Yeah, but it’s so worth it, isn’t it?” He asked with a smile and you sighed happily at his response.

“Yeah…” you hummed, “It’s all worth it.” You smiled.

“Our little family makes me so happy, I just want one more.” He said and you glanced into his eyes.

“Just one more.” You agreed and he chuckled.

“Yeah, just one.” He assured you, “So in a year I’ll ask again, okay?”

“Okay.” You sniggered and kissed him quickly again before you got the show going.

You were explaining a little bit about why you were suddenly so interested in this show without trying to give away too much of what you knew had gone down, thanks to your friends and social media. He easily got sucked into the narrative and when you both started commenting as you watched on you just got so happy that you could share something so simple together and then also something as huge and serious as a baby. It made your tummy flutter and swirl with love for him and you then realized that maybe it would be less than a year before you’d be trying for another baby and you were perfectly alright with that.

---- TAG LIST ----

@sunshinemoonsposts @anotherdudetteinthisworld @matildasatellite @sad-avocado @sunflovverharry @cherrysulewski @daphnesutton @gurugirl @reveriehs @ottawaoutlander @jessitpwk @permanentllyharry @here4thefanfics @slutfortigertattoo @angelbabyyy99 @freedomfireflies @behindmygreyeyes @justlemmeadoreyou

These are the friends who liked the ask with the request for this piece:)

@harryssattelitestomper @vanillagirllll @thef0reverl0st @unknown7549 @liviingfxst @leantunes0309 @outofthisworl-d

#Harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles stories #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles angsty one shot #harry styles smutty one shot #harry styles fluffy one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry x reader #harry x you #dad!harry styles x mom!reader #dad!harry #dad!harry styles #harry styles girl dad #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles angst #harry styles writing recs #0nlythrowharrybeaux

[applesandpavenders]

Things that made the battle scene in The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe still the best battle scene I’ve ever seen:

Epic scenery

The MUSIC

The moment the music stopped and you just hear bodies colliding and shouts and the clatter of weapons. So chilling

How Peter’s battle strategies clearly reflect his experiences and values; he uses the griffin’s to essentially bomb the witch’s army and keeps Edmund safe out of range on the cliff. He uses the air space over the enemy as an important battle field which is often forgotten in fantasy battles (but was such a big deal in blitzed London)

The variety of of creatures in each army. The film uses this as a moment to world build on who lives in Narnia and establish what they value by who’s side they’re on

It emphasises how each unique creature is built different and how that effects the battle. A good example is how the tiny guy with the sword takes down the rhino (it’s a split second scene where the rhino looks like he trips but he was actually attacked)

There a unicorn, like, come on

Again, the silence that comes when the music stops just before the two armies collide. Exquisite

It’s not an overly gory battle, and it’s not made to look super grey or gritty, but it doesn’t glorify it either. It’s made to look epic but also terrible - there’s broad daylight and colour in each shot but the music adds weight to the deaths that happen

Just a huge amount of fantasy creatures that don’t look like robots. Those fauns look genuinely nervous

The way Peter consults the other leaders like the griffin and Oreius. He respects them

Peter’s glance over his shoulder to Edmund for reassurance

The way Edmund gives him a nod. SO cool.

It demonstrates how they’re both kings and although Peter is leading the army Edmund is also playing a vital role in the battle

#narnia #the chronicles of narnia #edmund pevensie #peter pevensie #the lion the witch and the wardrobe #lww #fantasy battles #aslan

[youryurigoddess]

A nightingale sang in the London Blitz

When exactly was that certain night, the night Aziraphale and Crowley met — and spoke for the first time in 79 years in the midst of the London Blitz?

And what’s the deal with the nightingale’s song, really?

Grab something to drink and we’ll look for some Clues below.

The night they met

The Blitz, short for Blitzkrieg (literally: flash war) was a German aerial bombing campaign on British cities in the WW2, spanning between 7 September 1940 and 10 May 1941. The Luftwaffe attacks were carried out almost non stop, with great intensity meant to force a capitulation and similarly strong impact on British life and culture at the time.

Starting on 7 September 1940, London as the capital city was bombed for nearly 60 consecutive nights. More than one million London houses were destroyed or damaged, and more than 20,000 civilians were killed, half of the total victims of this campaign.

The night of 29 December 1940 saw the most ferocity, becoming what is now known as the Second Great Fire of London. The opening shot of the S2 1941 minisode is a direct reference to recordings of that event, with the miraculously saved St Paul’s Cathedral in the upper left corner.

The actual raid lasted between 06:15 and 09:45 PM, but its aftermath continued for days. The old and dense architecture of this particular part of the city turned into a flaming inferno larger than the Great Fire of 1666. Multiple buildings, including churches, were destroyed in just one night by over 100,000 bombs.

Incendiary bombs fell also on St Dunstan-in-the-East church that night, the real-life location of this scene as intended by Neil. It was gutted and again claimed by fire in one of the last air rides on 10 May, when the bomb destroyed the nave and roof and blew out the stained glass windows. The ruins survived to this day as a memorial park to the Blitz.

Such a delightfully Crowley thing to do: saving a bag of books with a demonic miracle adding to the biggest catastrophe for the publishing and book trade in years. 5 million volumes were lost, multiple bookshops and publishing houses destroyed in the December 29th raid alone.

Even without this context, judging by the seemingly unending night, overwhelming cold and darkness, broken heating at the theatre, and seasonal clothing (like Aziraphale and Crowley’s extremely nice winter coats), it’s rather clear that it was the very beginning of the year 1941.

Everything suggests that Aziraphale and Crowley’s Blitz reunion happened exactly 1900 years after their meeting in Rome — which, according to the script book, took place between 1 and 24 January 41 (Crowley was right: emperor Caligula was a mad tyrant and didn't need any additional tempting; there's a reason why he was murdered by his closest advisors, including members of his Praetorian Guard, on 24 January 41).

Interestingly, both events involved a role reversal in their otherwise stable dynamic, with Aziraphale spontaneously taking the lead instead of letting the demon be the one to do all the tempting and saving, and ended with a toast.

The S2 Easter Egg with the nuns of the Chattering Order of St Beryl playing table tennis at the theatre suggests that the Blitz meeting happened on a Tuesday afternoon, which doesn’t match any of the above mentioned days, but sets the in-universe date for 7 January 1941 or later.

The Chattering Order of Saint Beryl is under a vow to emulate Saint Beryl at all times, except on Tuesday afternoons, for half an hour, when the nuns are permitted to shut up, and, if they wish, to play table tennis.

The nightingale

January means one thing: absolutely no migratory birds in Europe yet. They’re blissfully wintering in the warm sun of Northern Africa at the time. But, ironically, when the real nightingales flew off, a certain song about them suddenly gained popularity in the West End of London.

It might be a shock, but A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square wasn’t a hit from the start — even though its creators, Eric Maschwitz and Manning Sherwin, were certainly established in their work at this point. The song was written in the then-small French fishing village of Le Lavandou shortly before the outbreak of the Second World War with first performance in the summer of 1939 in a local bar, where the melody was played on piano by the composer Manning Sherwin with the help of the resident saxophonist. Maschwitz sang his lyrics while holding a glass of wine, but nobody seemed impressed. It took time and a small miracle to change that.

Next year, the 23-year-old actress Judy Campbell had planned to perform a monologue of Dorothy Parker’s in the upcoming Eric Maschwitz revue „New Faces”. But somehow the script had been mislaid and, much to her horror, replaced with the song A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square. She had never professed to be a singer but even so, she gathered her courage and went out onto the moonlit set dressed in a white ball gown. Her heartfelt rendition of the now evocative ballad captured the audience’s imagination and catapulted her West End career to stardom.

It was precisely 11 April 1940 at the Comedy Theatre in Panton Street and the revue itself proved to be a great success — not only it kept playing two performances nightly through the Blitz, but also returned the next year. And the still operating Comedy Theatre is mere five minutes on foot from the Windmill Theatre, where Aziraphale performed in 1941, and not much longer from his bookshop.

Now, most Good Omens meta analyses focus on Vera Lynn’s version of the song from 5 June 1940, but it didn’t get much attention until autumn, specifically 15 November, when Glenn Miller and his orchestra published another recording. And Glenn Miller himself is a huge point of reference in Good Omens 2.

According to the official commentary the infamous credits scene is establishing Aziraphale and Crowley’s final resolve for the next season using the same narrative device The Glenn Miller Story (1954) does in its most crucial scene. It starts with the tune (and audio in general) totally flat, then adds a piano on one side, and gradually becomes fully multidimensional. The Good Omens credits not only emulate the same sound effect, but bring it to the visual side of the narrative by literally combining the individual perspectives of the two characters together. Even though they’re physically apart, their resolve — and love to each other — brings them even closer than before. Aziraphale smiles not because he’s being brainwashed, but because he knows exactly what to do next.

Some of you might have noticed that Tori Amos’s performance for Good Omens is actually a slightly shortened version of Miller’s recording — much less sorrowful than Vera Lynn’s full lyrics that include i.a. this bridge:

The dawn came stealing up

All gold and blue

To interrupt our rendez-vous

I still remember how you smiled and said

Was that a dream or was it true?

Which is a huge hint when it comes to what we can expect from the main romantic plot line in the Good Omens series. The original song introduces an element of the doubt — it seems like there was no nightingale at all, only the mirage woven by the singer clearly intoxicated with love, much like Aziraphale and Crowley for the length of the last six episodes. Crowley’s comment in the season finale might allude to that interpretation, stating that there are no nightingales — never have been. It was all a dream. But the version we’re working with here is short and sweet, and devoid of that doubt. In the Good Omens universe angels were actually dining at the Ritz, the streets were truly paved with stars (or will be shown as such in the next season), and a nightingale really sang in Berkeley Square, as the omniscient, omnipresent, and omnipotent narrator, God Herself, had shown us.

All in all, it’s not an accident that the “modern” swing ballad activating Aziraphale’s memory and opening the 1941 minisode is the Moonlight Serenade by Glenn Miller. It’s a track naturally associated with A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square when it comes to music style and the sentiment in the lyrics.

But why the sudden popularity? In the great uncertainty and hardship of the Blitz, A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square provided solace and escapism for listeners, offering a glimpse of hope and love amidst the darkness of war. It became a universal anthem of resilience and a reminder of the power of love transcending difficulties. By January 1941 the whole city knew this tune by heart, including a certain West End aficionado with a cabinet full of theatre programs in his bookshop. Thanks to Maggie’s grandmother, he most probably had a record at hand to play during his spontaneous wine night with Crowley. We can only suspect the details, but it was was mutually established as their song exactly at that time or soon afterwards. Pretty sure we will see a third installment of that minisode for many, many reasons, but especially because of this “several days in 1941” answer by Neil:

The Man Hunt

In 1941 A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square gained even more popularity as the romantic theme of the Fritz Lang’s newest film Man Hunt. The 1939 story by Geoffrey Household first appeared under the title “Rogue Male” as a serial in the Atlantic Monthly Magazine where it received widespread comment, soon becoming a world-wide phenomenon in novel form. Its premise criticizes Britain's pre-war policy of appeasement with Germany, ready to sacrifice its own innocent citizens to the tentative status quo. Sounds a bit like Heaven's politics, right?

Yes, I'm trying to make you watch old movies again — like all the other classics, Man Hunt (1941) is easily available on YouTube and other streaming websites.

The next part will include spoilers, so scroll down to the next picture if you prefer to avoid them.

The plot of the movie seems simple enough: the tall, dark, and handsome Alan Thorndike, who nearly assassinates Hitler, narrowly escapes Germany and back in London continues to evade the Nazi agents sent after him with the help of a young trench-clad “seamstress” named Jerry, bridging the class divide and becoming unlikely friends-partners-romantic interests. It doesn’t end well though.

Jerry's small London apartment serves as a hideout for Alan when he was being followed by Nazis, similarly to how Aziraphale's bookshop is a safe haven for both Crowley and Gabriel in S2. She helps the man navigate the streets and eventually out of London — by sacrificing herself and getting forcefully separated from him by a patrolling policeman. The last time they see each other, Alan watches Jerry look back at him yearningly and disappear in the fog, followed by the elderly officer.

Unfortunately in the next scene we learn that the latter is a Nazi collaborator and helps the agents apprehend Jerry in her own flat. Staying loyal to her love and uncooperative, she’s ultimately thrown out of a window to her death, but posthumously saves Alan once again — through the arrow-shaped hatpin he gifted her earlier that is presented to him as the evidence of her off-screen fate.

Long story short, thanks to Jerry’s sacrifice Alan not only survives, but is able to join the war that broke out in the meantime and go back to Germany, armed with a rifle and a final resolve to end what he started, no matter how long will it take. The justice will be served and the dictator will pay with his life for his sins.

I wouldn’t be myself without mentioning that the main villain has a Roman chariot statue similar to the one in Aziraphale’s bookshop, an antique sculpture of St Sebastian (well-known as the gayest Catholic Saint) foreshadowing his demise, and a chess set symbolizing the titular manhunt/game of tag with the protagonist.

Aziraphale’s song

Will Aziraphale sacrifice himself as well? Or has he already? If his coin magic trick can be any indicator, we should expect at least a shadow of a danger touching the angel’s wings soon.

Let’s sum up the 1941 events from Aziraphale’s perspective: the very first time they’ve interacted after almost a century, Crowley actively sabotaged his entire existence twice by stepping onto a holy ground and by being outed by agents of Hell, both on the very same night and both because of his undying dedication to the angel. That’s enough of a reason not only for performing an apology dance, but also maintaining a careful distance for Crowley’s sake for the next 26 years. Only when he heard that his idiot was planning to rob a church, he gave up since he “can't have him risking his life”.

That’s when Crowley, sitting in a car parked right under his bookshop, offered him a ride. It wasn’t even subtle anymore. It was supposed to be a date, this time both of them understood it. But Aziraphale wouldn’t risk Crowley’s safety for his own happiness, especially not when he can name his feelings towards him and knows that they are reciprocated — the biggest lesson he learnt back in 1941.

So he did what he’s best at, he cut Crowley off again, but this time with a promise of catching up to his speed at some point. Buddy Holly’s Everyday, which was originally planned to play afterwards instead of the Good Omens theme, adds additional context here:

No, thank you. Oh, don’t look so disappointed. Perhaps one day we could... I don't know… Go for a picnic. Dine at the Ritz.

Aziraphale, carefully looking around and feeling observed through the whole conversation in the Bentley, consciously used the “Dine at the Ritz” line from A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square, from their song, as a code only the two of them understand. Not as a suggestion to go out for a meal, but a promise. A hope for the privilege of being openly in love and together — maybe someday, not now, when it’s too dangerous — even if it leads to a bad ending.

Fast forward to 2023 when for one dreadful moment Crowley’s “No nightingales” robbed Aziraphale even of that semblance of hope. He looked away, unable to stop his tears anymore. Only their kiss helped him pull himself together and make sure that a nightingale did sing the last time he turned — just like in their song — this time without a smile, as a goodbye.

#a nightingale sang in the london blitz #the song is a code #and is miracled as a sign #aziraphale needs a hug #no nightingales #history rant #yuri is doing her thing #the good omens crew is unhinged #neil gaiman #st dunstan-in-the-east #1941 minisode #1941 flashback #a nightingale sang in berkeley square #good omens #good omens meta #good omens 2 #go2 meta #go2 #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #1941 aziraphale #1941 crowley #the blitz #man hunt (1941) #the glenn miller’s story (1954) #why am i like this #why do i do this to myself #long post

[noneorother]

By far the dumbest movie reference no one caught in Good Omens is : The League of Gentlemen's Apocalypse

I'm working on a theory that requires many hours of movie watching, so here we are. Many people have already mentioned that the nazi zombies/Furfur is a The League of Gentlemen comedy troupe shoutout. But I'm taking it one step crazier. Remember the opening scene from the 1941 minisode of S2E4, the one with the london bombing and the Angel statue in the bottom right corner ?

Haha sorry my bad. That's the climax intro scene of the movie The League of Gentlemen's Apocalypse. Here's the opening scene of the 1941 minisode:

You can excuse the confusion after seeing both, with how they look pretty much identical (yes this is giving me The Tales of Hoffmann PTSD, thanks for asking) And it's not very coincidental when you know who helped write the minisode.

You know, just the fourth member of The League of Gentlemen and writer of the movie LG Apocalypse. So shall we tease out all the (I'm warning you) EXTREMELY dumb quotes and story beats this terrible movie has lent to the 1941 episode? There are quite a few. But there's also a potential story arc that isn't so dumb... (TW offensive comedy, including mild gore)

In order to understand this you probably have to know a bit of background on British show The League of Gentlemen. "[A] surreal British comedy horror sitcom... follows the lives of bizarre characters, most of whom are played by three of the show's four writers – Mark Gatiss, Steve Pemberton, and Reece Shearsmith – who, along with Jeremy Dyson, formed the League of Gentlemen comedy troupe in 1995." You don't need to know all of the characters or backstory of the show, just that it's a fictional town with many fictional characters played by the same three writers (and an invisible fourth).

(Also known as all these people right here) Want to know who they plays a stand-in for Jeremy Dyson in LG Apocalypse and gets murdered first with black marker on his face?

Say hello, baby Sheen!

So we've seen the bombing scene, what about the car driving through fire and Aziraphale's suggestive line at the beginning?

Yup.

Do the characters make a deal with a Reece Shearsmith character to enter the real world through a church?

HECK YEAH. Bonus points for the green background.

A gag about fake lips with Steve? Sure.

Steve Pemberton seen here as a nazi zombie, and also here playing "Herr Lipp" (also known in the actual script as "the worst pun in the world" in the movie. Groan). What about Mark Gatiss Stealing binoculars from Steve to spy on two important characters? But of course.

Surely not the arm falling off too?

Oh dang. It's a big plot point in LG Apocalypse you say? Then, in the climax, does someone in dark sunglasses who doesn't know how a rifle works fire it at a main character, and the other character who he misses says fuck? Now you're pulling off my arm..

Well I'll be damned. The only difference here being Steve's head exploding, naturally.

I'll admit, I have trouble seeing where a giant 3 headed chimera beast that destroys a bunch of characters fits in at the end of the 1941 miniode, but I don't think 1941 is meant to be a stand in for the whole movie, because at that point in the movie the role of the main characters shifts to become the real versions of Shearsmith and Gatiss, not the characters. But even though the end of the movie doesn't track with 1941, I think the moral at the end is interesting : "In the church, Lipp says he will kill Gatiss. The other characters try to dissuade him, saying that once all the writers are dead, Royston Vasey will cease to exist and they will die. Lipp claims that they will in fact be better off, because as long as they're controlled by someone else they have no free will and can never change for the better. Tipps tells Lipp that because he saved the day and can therefore change, Lipp need not kill Gatiss. He persuades Lipp to hand him the gun, only for Tipps to accidentally fire it and kill Gatiss.

With all the writers now apparently dead, the residents of Royston Vasey prepare for the worst. Instead, everything calms down and The Apocalypse is averted. The characters realise they now have free will. Herr Lipp adopts some orphaned children, the vet, Mr Chinnery, finds a rabbit and is able to take care of it without killing it, and Bernice and Pauline become romantically involved. Tipps leaves the church, waving goodbye to Edward, Tubbs and Papa Lazarou. It appears that Royston Vasey can continue to exist independently of its dead creators." This struggle for free will outside of the plan originally set out by their creators, especially in the context of said creators not really caring about them anymore, really starts sending red flags up for me. Crowley's existential crisis at the beginning of S2E1 seems to be mulling over similar themes. The lack of any God narrator as in season 1 might be a change in storytelling technique, but might also point the the creator being absent, or having moved on without really letting her original creation know it gets to exist on it's own now. Funnily enough, this is the second movie with shot for shot quotes throughout, that places a specific set of characters at the center of their own deeper plot that has a meta level to the storytelling. I'm starting to think there's a pattern here...

_______________________________________ Here's my series on the Tales of Hoffmann, another movie hidden within the series.

#good omens meta #good omens 2 #good omens season two #art director talks good omens #go season 2 #go meta #good omens season 2 #good omens s2 #go2

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

I'll come pick it up after pt.9

John Egan X Female! Reader

Summary: No matter how hard he try, John Egan can't escape the war. Even when he's in London...

Waring: Sadness/ mention of a dead children, brother/ historical inaccuracies/ grief/ crying/ use of Y/n/ allusion to sex

Word count: 970 words

The morning after, Egan woke up, naked next to his nurse. She helped him when he woke up during the night, he was starting to lose his mind, seeing the effect of the bombs he dropped. He stretched his arms and looked at his nurse, she looked so peaceful, the opposite of her life and his right now. He looked at the time, 11:17, it was almost noon. He decided to wake her up by kissing her neck, not the start anything sexual, just to tickle her, so she wakes up with a smile. When she opened her eyes, she saw her pilot, with a huge smile on his face. ‘’Good morning, darling’’ he said, with his raspy morning voice. She giggled, she always found men with low, raspy voice attractive. ‘’Why are you laughing’’ he asked, smiling. ‘’Your voice is hot’’ she mumbled, stretching her arms. She went on top of him, only to get out of bed, and tease him a little. She was naked, they didn’t bother to put cloths on after the midnight ride. ‘’Wanna go explore the city?’’ she asked, while getting dressed. She wore a white blouse, with long sleeves, with blue checkered pants. The occasion where she could wear pants were rare, but she loved it. It was more comfortable than a skirt, and it didn’t expose her private parts if it was windy outside.

After they ate, they started to walk around London, they were holding hands. He was happy he could show her off. At the base, they didn’t want to show too much affection, it was where they worked, he had a war to win, and she had people to heal. Bucky wanted to buy the newspaper, he wanted to understand what happened yesterday. When he was walking towards the seller, they both heard a woman scream. Their head turned to see a house that collapsed, people were scouting the debris in search of people. ‘’No! Please my daughter’’ the woman cried. Y/n heart was breaking, she had heard the same screams when her mother learned that her son had died. Her eyes filled with tears, she wanted to hug her, two men were holding her arms, so she wouldn’t go in the debris. One of the men that was on the destroyed house was holding the corpse of a dead children. Bucky was watching the scene with a lump in his throat, was this how the Germans acted too, when he dropped bombs on their house? With almost no compassion, the men holding the kid, walked in front of the mother like she wasn’t there. Y/n walked towards the woman. She was wailing on the ground; no mother should ever lose her children. Bucky was paralyzed, he couldn’t move, but he was looking at his girl, she was helping the mother, she was so selfless, but in a good way, ‘’I’m so sorry for your loss’’ Y/n said, kneeling in front of the woman.

She wanted to be in front of her to make the woman feel heard. Y/n wanted to let her know that she was there, she understood. She never lost a daughter, but she had lost a brother. The mother didn’t say anything, she just hugged the nurse. ‘’It’s okay, I got you’’ The people that were watching the scene, began to leave, but Bucky stayed, waiting for his girl. But he wasn’t gonna pressure her, she needed to help that woman, and he understood why. After a few minutes passed, the woman stopped hugging Y/n, thanking her for being there and started to walk away. Y/n went back to Bucky, he was looking pale. ‘’Bucky are you okay?’’ she asked, taking his hand. To show him that she was there. He looked at her, smiling. He didn’t want to say what was truly on his mind: how many children died because of me? Instead, he just said he was fine. She didn’t believe him, she knew what he was thinking, but she didn’t want to pressure him.

When Bucky read the first page, he thought his legs were going to abandon him. The mission was a disaster, they had a huge number of losses. Was his best-friend in the line up? Egan looked at Y/n, they were supposed to be on vacation, yet he couldn’t stop thinking about the war. ‘’Call the base, I know you need to do it.’’ She calmly said. That was all he needed to hear, he went into a red cabin and called the base, praying for good news.

Y/n was waiting outside the cabin, hearing a little bit of the conversation, but when Bucky smacked the telephone, she knew something was wrong. He came out of the red booth, the expression on his showed so many emotions, anger, sadness and grief. ‘’What happened?’’ she asked, wanting news. ‘’Buck went down’’ she couldn’t believe what she was hearing, the compassionate smile on her face faded. Gale Cleven was probably dead, she shook her head, in denial. ‘’There’s a mission tomorrow, I said I was going to be there, leading it. We must get back to the base, I’m so – ‘’ ‘’Don’t even say your sorry, because I understand. Buck is your best friend, and I have to check on my girls. Don’t apologize, Bucky’’ she said, taking his face with her hands, to make him look at her. He took her hands in his. ‘’Thank you so much, darling, I don’t know how I would do it without you.’’ He kissed her, he was truly grateful for her. ‘’Let’s get back to the base, shall we’’ she said, smiling. He only nodded, he was angry, he wanted to rip the head off every German for hurting his best friend. He was going to paint Germany red, with the blood of it’s population...

Part 10⬇️

#john egan x female reader #john egan x reader #major john egan #john egan #master of the air imagine #master of the air #callum turner x reader #callum turner imagine #callum turner #gale cleven #austin butler

[natchastxin]

trip to venice.

Summary: Ilsa brings you to Venice despite your refusal and you confess to her the feelings of hurt you’ve had since she left you in Amsterdam three months ago which leads you to join Ethan’s team. You find her in the aftermaths of the fight on the bridge.

Pairings: Ilsa Faust x f!reader

Warnings: blood, slight smut

A/N: I just finished watching Mission Impossible: Dead Reckoning Part 1 so I’m writing this to make myself feel less sad. And obviously there are spoilers for MI Dead Reckoning so don’t read if you don’t want to.

You loved her, you really loved her and you thought she felt the same way too. She told you so herself just that night she spent in your room in Paris after a stressful mission. So why did you find your bed empty and apartment bare as if she was never there? Had you dreamed the whole night?

The only evidence that proved that the night had transpired was the singular note she left on your nightstand, propped up against a glass of water. On it, etched on the delicate white paper was a single letter: I. The letter was accompanied with a heart that was drawn in the same swoopy style as the letter.

You picked it up and quickly turned it over in your hands to see if she had written anything else. Much to your disappointment, that was it. You laid back in your bed with the note clutched over your heart and closed your eyes as the scenes of last night flashed behind your eyelids.

—

A frenzied knocking woke you from where you had fallen asleep on your couch while watching your movie. Worried sick about Ilsa, you thought it best to distract your mind with something else. She came to your apartment before she left for Kashmir, letting you know how the mission was going to go down as you braided her hair.

You met her while in the MI6. She was the agent and you were... well, you were also an agent but you were better known for your bomb-diffusing skills, how well you handled a knife, and your medical skills. Funny thing, that was actually how you met her, in a knife combat. You were tasked to bring her in because she had information on a known terrorist and caught her off guard. The fight ended with both of your legs wrapped around one another's necks until you called truce.

You fell for her quickly, quicker than anyone you had ever fell for before. It hit you that you were falling for her the way waves break against a barrier of rocks. You came to the realization one late night that two of you had gone to a bar for drinks.

You sat across from her in the headquarters in London, staring at her in your own subtle way— in a way that you thought she didn't notice— but she soon caught on whenever she looked up and you would quickly look back down at your paperwork. For her, she fell for you more gradually. It was a gentle love for her that she received from you, it was like the cool afternoon breeze that rustled through the trees of the forest; it enveloped you and left you wanting more when it left. This pining between the two of you lasted for years, through her disavowal which was shortly followed by your resignation from the MI6 to do privately contracted work all the way to the day she confessed to you that she loved you when she showed up at your apartment front door.

You opened the door and she was greeted by your very disheveled appearance. "Hey," she croaked out and your eyes immediately brightened, any trace of fatigue disappearing from your eyes.

"Ilsa."

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes," she said, smirking.

"You're one to talk," you said, pretending to be cross and resting your hands on your hips. But you can barely keep your facade up long. Your real emotions of fear quickly break through your expression. Your lip trembles and you pull her towards you. She drops her duffle bag onto the ground and lets you melt into her embrace. "You were supposed to call," you tell her, you voice muffled by her shoulder. She laces her fingers through your hair to hold you close.

"I'm sorry, darling," she tells you and hugs you tightly, "I'm here now, I'm okay. We got to the bomb in time."

"The bomb?" You said, wiping your nose on your sleeve while pulling away, "Why didn't you call me? I could've helped."

"We didn't have time," she sighed out, "I got here as fast as I could."

"Come on," you said pulling her in, "I'll make you a drink."

—

The night progresses rapidly and both you and Ilsa down multiple drinks as she tells you how the mission unfolded.

"I have something to tell you," Ilsa said.

"Hmm?"

She pressed the lip of her beer against her chin and leaned towards you. "I love you," she said. Your heart beats rapidly against your rib cage and you breathe in that intoxicating perfume scent of hers. Her grip on the slippery glass tightened for a few seconds while silence filled the air as you came to terms with what the woman before you confessed. "I love you too," you whispered out. She takes your beer out of your hand and places it on the coffee table along with hers. She kissed you then, threading her fingers through your thick hair, trying to bring your lips closer to hers.

"I've loved you all these years," she tells you.

"Let's not waste any more apart," you said, "Do you want this?" You bring your hand to the first button of her shirt to indicate what you meant.

"I have longed for this day since the day I met you," she tells you, "I want this— I want you."

She straddles your waist and your arms encircle around her, bringing her impossibly close to your body.

You bring her to your bed and you make sweet love to her that night, you're gentle as she is with you. She lets you worry over her injuries and press kisses to the bruises on her neck. She cums on your fingers then your tongue multiple times and you bury your head into her heat for as long as she lets you, she then returns the favor until you're shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm. Mustering the remaining strength you had in your legs, you straddled her and brought both of your cores to each other, rubbing until she sobbed as she came and your thighs burned with exhaustion. You collapse next to her and bring her close to your chest. You kiss the top of her head and brush her hair with your fingers.

"Stay," you tell her, whispering it into the dark corners of the room, "I know you have to leave soon, but stay for the next two days— for me."

She closed her eyes tightly and let out a hesitant breath, "Only for you."

She kisses your chest, then your neck— sucking on your pulse point to mark you as hers. To be fair, you had done your fair share of marking up her body so now it was time she took her revenge. She kissed you long and slow, nibbling on your bottom lip until your lips became red like cherries. She takes your breath away every time she pulls away and you stare into her beautiful iridescent eyes. She slowly falls asleep in your arms and you spend the time counting the freckles on her eyelids before falling asleep as well. You held her close that night, not wanting to let go.

You woke up that morning blissful— if only that lasted for more than a minute. The bed was empty and so was the apartment. She had vacated and left not a single trace of her presence. That broke you. You collapsed to the floor, sobbing and clawing at your chest. Little did you know, this started a cycle for you and Ilsa. A cycle that always led her back into your arms in that tiny apartment in Paris. The next year, she waltzes in and out of your life whenever she pleases. It was as if she had forgotten that first night you had with her entirely. She would fuck you then leave the next morning and you were happy to give that to her if that meant you could have her for that little while.

You used to tell her about the dream you had for the both of you. The one that included laughter, coffee dates, the strolls you would take at the local park, the paintings the two of you would pick out to decorate your apartment, the patter of small feet that would fill the silence of the morning, and the infinite love that the two of you would share. She would lay there with her eyes closed, smiling happy. It was the only way this dream existed for her— in that small bed inside of the small Paris apartment you owned. The only place that dream lived was in yours and Ilsa's minds. You dreamt of a world where no one knew your names, a world where you could live anonymously, stroll down the streets hand-in-hand, free from the fear of someone harming you or Ilsa. She hides her tears when you describe this dream to her each time the two of you lay naked, sprawled together late at night. She let you dream for the two of you because that was the only way she could truly make you happy. You knew that she didn't want the same future you wanted but you endured.

Three months of taking the torture, you had finally confronted her. Not given the response that you deemed to be the truth, you sent her out of your apartment in fury, swearing that you never wanted to see her again.

"I thought what we had was real, Ilsa," you had told her, "You told me you loved me that first night in Paris when you got back from your mission with Ethan."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she mumbled.

The truth was that Ilsa was scared. She was scared what would happen if other people knew just how madly in love with you she was. She saw what happened to Ethan and how it affected him. She didn't want anything bad to happen to you so instead she kept you a secret and kept the relationship to a minimum because she saw it as the only way she could protect you. She would have you in the only way she could but she never knew how much she would hurt you in the process. You finally came to the realization of why she was treating you like such an ass one day the both of you had spent the night in Amsterdam.

"You're not Ethan," you told her in bed one night as you held her close, "And I'm not totally helpless. I know you love me, Ilsa. And I love you, more than you know. Despite everything you've done these past three months, I still love you even though I shouldn't."

"But I can't protect you."

"Baby, I can protect myself. You forget that I was a trained agent too. This is my life, I'm not going to let some future terrorist dictate who I should be able to love."

She left again that morning and that was the last you saw of her for the next three months.

—

Your head throbbed as you sat up. You quickly began taking in your surroundings and noticed that you were in a moving van. You clutched your head in pain.

"Hey, darling," a familiar voice said and your heart dropped to the bottom of your stomach. Familiar hands grabbed yours but you shook them off.

"Where am I? What are you doing here? What happened?"

No one gives you an answer. It seems like the two men at the front are waiting for Ilsa to answer you but she doesn't. All she does is stare.

"Fine, I'm leaving then if you won't give me an answer."

You stand up and you're about to open the door when Ilsa grabs your free arm. That does it for you. You twist in her grasp and eventually pin her down in the van.

"Don't fucking touch me," you spat.

"Hey now, c'mon," Benji in the passenger seat finally said, "Just tell her, Ilsa."

"We knocked you out when you came out of your favorite cafe. Something bad is happening, I— we need you," she said and it comes out barely a whisper. Your expression changes.

You finally let her go and sit up. She sits up and coughs, rubbing her chest.

"Why? Why now?" You asked, looking deliberately at Ilsa, waiting for her to answer.

"We're going up against this new enemy and we could use your help," Benji answered instead, "Ilsa has told us about your skills and, well, we need someone like you."

"Thanks, but I'm not interested. She knows why."

You motion to stand up again and this time Ilsa speaks in a stronger voice.

"Y/N. Please," she pleaded. You look at her, which was the first mistake. You could never deny her anything. You would always say yes to her even if it cost you. Your jaw clenched in frustration.

"Fine. But if I do this, I don't want to talk to you or see you ever again. You got it?"

"I understand," she said even though it felt like her heart was being wrenched from her body.

"You've hurt me enough times," you told her.

The two men at the front of the car exchange looks.

—

You sat in the back of the van when Benji brings Ethan in. You had only met Ethan once before, he was nice. But you didn't tend to base how good a person was from first impressions.

"Y/N," he said when he noticed you.

"Ethan," you replied.

"Nice to see you."

You nodded. He looks back and sees Ilsa's deliberately avoidant gaze, looking anywhere but at you. He lets out a very small sigh and looks at Benji who gives him a grimace, shaking his head. He knew what happened between you and Ilsa, one of three people that knew. He knew how much the two of you loved one another and how stubborn Ilsa could be. You, on the other hand, from his singular encounter with you, he knew that you had a kind soul. Why else would Ilsa love you so? Even if she refused to admit it.

You hold up a paper clip and help free Ethan from his handcuffs. "Are you okay?" He asked.

You nodded your head, busying yourself with unlocking his handcuffs.

"I'm always fine," you told him once you freed him.

"So what's the plan?" You asked.

—

"What would potentially happen if a government got their hands on this AI tech?" You asked while sharpening your knife nervously.

"We don't know," Ethan said, "We need to find the other half of the key to find out."

Luther shows him the surveillance footage from the chase in the airport, "I took out the footage from your glasses and looked through everything. See anything strange?"

He notices a man glitching and replays the footage, "It's like he's a ghost."

"We can't find actual video of him except for right here," Luther stops at a frame of Grace, "He only exists in this reflection."

"The Entity," Ethan says, his voice dropping to a whisper, "It's protecting him."

"You saw him, didn't you?" Luther said.

"I did, but I wasn't sure."

"Well who is he?" Benji asked.

"Someone I thought died a long time ago," Ethan said, "In another life, before the IMF. Before I was offered the choice."

Ethan looks up at Luther, "In a very real sense, he made me into who I am today."

Luther grimaced.

"Does he have a name?" Luther asked.

"He calls himself Gabriel," Ilsa said, turning from the window. You look over at her and she meets your gaze before switching to Ethan's.

"You know him," Ethan said.

"There is no knowing him. He has no recorded past— the Entity made sure of that. He's a dark Messiah. The Entity's chosen messenger and he sees death as a gift he wants to share with the rest of the world."

"How do you know this?"

"I still have a few friends in MI6."

She looks back at you but you look away. "Friends who are afraid," she continued, "Of the British government gaining control of the Entity. Any attempt to try to stop them would be seen as an act of treason."

"And because you're disavowed," you said, "Friends called and asked you for help."

"They knew Gabriel served the Entity," she said, "They knew he was on his way to Istanbul to acquire one half of the key but I beat him to it."

"Do your friends know what this key leads to?"

"They believe it leads to its source code."

"Source code," Luther echoed.

"When were you going to tell me this?" Ethan asked.

"I'm telling you now," she said.

"Hold on, did you talk to them in person?" You asked, "Your friends. Did this happen over a phone call?"

"I'm disavowed so they had no way of contacting me in person."

Her expression changed when she realized what you were implying.

"He wanted you to find the key," you said, your voice coming to a whisper, "He wanted you to bring the key to Ethan. This was a trap."

"No, we can't be sure that was the Entity," she said.

"We can't be sure it wasn't," you replied.

"We can't believe anything outside of this very conversation," Ethan said, "None of you should be here."

—

You sat with Benji in the other room as he revised the firewalls on his laptop. You leaned back in your chair, having switched to a different knife to sharpen.

"Why did you guys choose me? Of all the people you could've called, why me?"

"Ilsa wanted you here. She wanted to see you and make sure you were safe."

"Bullshit. She doesn't care about me," you laughed.

He looks at you and your belief in your words falters.

"Why did she leave me then?"

"It's the only way she could think to protect you. Yes, I know how that contradicts the fact that you're here now but you're the best agent she knows and she thinks that maybe she can better protect you this way."

"That's stupid," you scoffed.

"Not everything is always a clear path in Ilsa's head."

You look away to where Ilsa is standing in the other room. Benji follows your gaze.

"She still loves you, despite everything she's done to make it look otherwise and I'm guessing you still love her too."

You give an imperceptible nod of your head.

"Go tell her before it's too late. With our line of work, we never know how much time we get with one another."

"You're very wise, you know," you said, "When you want to be."

"Thank you," Benji said, his face brightening.

You walk to the room in which Ilsa is standing in. You tilt your head to the door leading to the roof and she nodded. You went first. She follows a few minutes later.

You stood on the rooftop, gripping the railing tightly. You bent down and stretched your shoulders before resting on the railing with your forearms. She walks over and leans with her back against the sunset. She lets out a loud sigh.

"You're mad at me," she noted.

"Great observation," you said sarcastically.

"Y/N..."

"What? What do you want from me, Ilsa? I've given you everything I have. Every time you turned for me I was there and now you pull me into this mission. You couldn't even talk to me first? I would've said yes, you know. All you had to do was ask. I would always be there, despite everything."

She doesn't say anything so you look at her. Hot tears are rolling down her face. Your heart broke again even though you knew that it shouldn't.

"I'm sorry," she said, "Those nights in Paris then in Amsterdam."

Silence fills the air when she pauses. "I had a mission after Amsterdam and faked my death," she said quietly, "I wanted you to come with me but then I remembered everything I did— how I hurt you."

You turn around and lean against the railing, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I didn't realize that in my efforts to protect you, just how much I was hurting you in the process. I know that I don't deserve your forgiveness but I want to give this a chance, a real chance this time."

You looked over at her, "I wanted to give this a chance too. I always have. But I don't want to get hurt again. I can't keep doing that to myself."

"I know. But what if I promised you that I would try? I want to be with you, whatever it takes," she said.

You think about it, was it really worth it to give her another chance? She was the love of your life, yes, but she had hurt you so many times, though not intentionally.

"Fine," you said, uncrossing your arms, "I'll give us a try. But I want complete honesty from here on out.

She nods, "I can do that."

So you let her back into your heart because your love for her outweighed the grudge you held against and it was the only thing you ever knew how to do.

She hugs you hesitantly and you move your arms to hold her closer. She smelled the same as the night in Amsterdam. You brushed your fingers through her desert colored highlights. She tucks her head under your chin, revelling in the comfort your embrace brought her.

"I promise that I won't hurt you," she said, "Not intentionally."

You kissed the crown of her hair and she looked up at you before meeting your lips. You let her deepen the kiss as you pull her even closer to you. She found a home in you that day. You held her closely by the waist, not wanting to let her go. A smile tugs at both your lips.

"You know, I've never been to Venice," she said.

"Really?" You said.

"Yeah, it's my first time here."

"Hmm, maybe I'll show you around after this mission's over. What do you think?"

"I think... it sounds like perfection."

She bit her bottom lip adorably before snuggling her head into your chest. You never wanted to let her slip away ever again. She feels your grip on her waist tighten as your mind drifts once more to the plan. She was going to meet Gabriel at the bridge and fake her death. The margin for error was so small, barely imperceptible to the human eye.

"What's wrong?" She asked, brushing her nose against your jaw.

"I don't like this plan," you confessed, "There's too many things that can go wrong. It's not safe."

"Darling, it's the only way we'll be free," she tried her best to make you see the brighter side of the plan.

"You could die, Ilsa. I can't have that happen."

"I'll be careful. He'll hit me here," she said, guiding your hand just clear of her heart, "I'll be sure of it. Besides, if things get out of hand, death will just have to withstand my will to stay alive."

"Ilsa, don't joke," you said, looking away. Your eyes sting with tears threatening to run away.

"I'm not joking- hey, look at me," she cups your jaw with one hand, "I'll come back to you, I promise." She rested her forehead against yours. "I'll be fine," she told you.

She follows you back down where everyone is changing into their attire for the party. Ilsa pulls you into her room and sits you down on a crate. She sits in between your legs. You give her a perplexed look.

"Could you braid my hair?" She asked quietly and your mouth breaks into a smile. "Of course."

You brush her hair gently to one side. She plays with her fingers while you comb through her hair, plaiting it expertly.

"I haven't had my hair braided since you left me," she confessed, "You've always been the person to do it for me."

You smile to yourself at the thought of this simple activity she saved just for you. You finish braiding her hair and place it over her shoulder. You kiss the side of your neck and she turns to capture your lips. She rises onto her knees and laces her fingers through your hair, pulling you to her. Her tongue slides against yours as you deepen the kiss. She moans into your mouth and you grip her waist tightly. You nibble on her bottom lip before she does the same to you.

Ethan walks in and the two of you break apart. A smile creeps onto his face. "Glad the two of you finally came to your senses," he said and a blush rises to both your cheeks, "Could I get a minute with Y/N?"

Ilsa nods and leaves the two of you alone but not before pressing a kiss to the back of your palm.

She walks back into the common area where Luther and Benji are working on their laptops.

"Nice hair," Luther commented.

"Why are your lips red?" Benji asked.

Her fingers rises to her lips instinctively and she blushes.

"Oh my god," Benji said and Luther smirks.

He stands up and points his finger while following her. She ducks and speed walks to the equipment. "You guys are back together aren't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Benji," trying her best to keep a poker face.

Benji smirks and crosses his arms across his chest, "I like seeing you happy. The two of you are good for each other, clearly."

Ilsa blushes again before ducking her head and rummaging through a duffle bag, "Thanks."

—

"I have a task for you," Ethan said, "While we're at the party, I want you to follow us from a distance. We have the advantage of Gabriel not knowing who you are. I need you to follow Ilsa and protect her. I won't be able to do that while I get Gabriel. Can you do that for me?"

"Of course, Ethan," you replied. He nods, "You'll be off comms so that there's no distractions. I just want you to follow Ilsa, don't worry about me. Alright?"

You nod.

"Take the weapons you need. I'll come find you when everything's done," Ethan said. He goes to stand up but you grab his arm, "Stick to the plan. Let her fake her death. I know it's going to seem real but don't worry, we've got this."

He blinks appreciatively at your reassurance. "Good luck," he said.

—

You were following Grace, Ilsa, and Ethan to the party. Watching them from a distance. Ethan had told Ilsa to run so you followed her to make sure that she would be alright. You finally caught up to her in a deserted alleyway. She swings at you with her fist before realizing who was following her. You duck and grab her arm.

"Y/N?" She said, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Ethan sent me, he told me to follow the three of you from a distance. He asked me to protect you." You moved in closer to her and inspected her face and she closed her eyes, taking in your concerned touch. "I'm alright," she told you.

"Good, you had me worried back there," you said. She opens her eyes and sees that you haven't moved from your spot. One of your hands moves from her face to her hip and pull her flush against you.

"I missed this," you whisper to her. She puts a hand against your abdomen. "What are you waiting for then?" She husked out. Her hand scrunches the front of your shirt and pulls you even closer to her body. You meet her lips, they were soft and they enveloped your own.

You pull away and rest your forehead against her. "We should probably go," Ilsa told you and you nodded, agreeing.

"I'll be right behind you," you said, "Do you have a weapon?"

She half unsheathes the sword she's holding and you smirk. "That's my girl," you said. You take one of the five knives on your body and tuck it into the back of the waistband of her pants, you hide the weapon with her shirt.

"I added a little something special," you told her.

She smiled and kissed you, "Let's go."

She takes off running and you run behind her. You hear faint sounds of combat and Ilsa comes to a quick stop, causing you to crash into her. She held a finger up to her lips. She motioned for you to stay here but you shook your head. She motioned for you to just wait and you reluctantly agreed.

She walks up to the bridge and you wait tensely behind the corner, glancing over to your girlfriend to make sure she was alright. She starts fighting Gabriel and she gets stabbed in the leg. She lets out a heart wrenching scream and you run over swiftly and quietly. You unsheathe the knife from behind your back and slash his thigh— his femoral artery. He yells in pain and clutches his leg; blood gushed past his fingers.

"Who the hell are you?" He grunted. "No one that you need to know." You flip your knife and help Ilsa stand up. "Go check on Grace. I'll handle him."

She limps over to Grace and checks her pulse. You momentarily let your guard down and Gabriel gets back up. "Y/N, look out!" She screamed. Gabriel punched you in the back of the head and knocked you out.

Ilsa's vision turned red with anger when she saw your body crumple to the ground. She picks up the sword again and advances toward Gabriel. Her swipes are sloppy and Gabriel can see it but nonetheless she gets a few slashes in. He takes advantage of her sloppiness and knocks her sword away easily. He slashes at her abdomen and it barely misses her. He cuts open her stomach and she lets out a gasp and clutched her stomach. He pins her against the side of the bridge. "This is what happens to whoever cares about Ethan Hunt," he hissed in her ear, "When I'm done with you I'll carve up your little partner. She'll look so pretty all slashed up."

"Don't ever fucking touch her," Ilsa gasped out in between breaths. Her hand inches to the knife you had tucked into her waistband.

"I kill you first and she won't have anyone to protect her," he cackled.

"She doesn't need me to protect her."

She pulls out her knife and stabs the side of his body. "If anything, she's been the one to protect me all along." He doubled over in pain.

He grunted angrily and stood back up, stabbing Ilsa in the chest, she moved slightly to the side as he did so. Her eyes opened in shock, letting out a shaky breath. She looks down at the knife then back at Gabriel.

Gabriel stumbles back and lets Ilsa slide to the floor. She closes her eyes to control her breathing. You finally open your eyes, your head is throbbing and you look around. You push yourself up with much difficulty and see Gabriel's retreating figure. "Hey, asshole," you yelled out, "You forgot to kill me."

"Your time will come," Gabriel said.

You stumbled to your feet and pulled a small dagger from your boot. As he turns his back, you throw the dagger at him. It lodged in his back and he fell over before crawling away.

You look around and see Ilsa and your heart drops to your stomach. You run over her and see the knife. Quickly taking her head into your lap, you check her pulse, letting out a temporary sigh of relief. However, that relief didn't stay for long, you had a performance to put on. You hunch over Ilsa's body and cry. Your shoulders shake as you discreetly take out her earpiece and crush it beneath your boot. You lower your lips to her ear.

"You did really good. I'm so proud of you," you whisper into her ear. From a distance, it just looks like your grieving over your lover's dead body.

You brush her hair soothingly, continuing to let the tears flow.

"I love you," you told her. Her eyes twitch so you press a kiss to each of her eyelids, over her freckles. You hold her head close to your body and she stays motionless.

You hear heavy sounds of footsteps from the distance and you know it's Ethan. Grace would be waking up any minute now.

"No!" Ethan yells when he sees Ilsa's limp body in your arms. He places his finger to her pulse and his eyes soften to sadness. "Y/N, I'm so sorry. This wasn't supposed to happen," he said.

You sniffle and brush your tears, "She died protecting others. It's what she would've wanted."

Grace finally comes to and realizes what happened. She's in shock seeing Ilsa's "dead" body. "No, that wasn't supposed to happen. She's not supposed to be dead, she wasn't supposed to sacrifice herself," Grace starts hyperventilating, "Why did she do that? I didn't ask her to do that."

You lovingly brush at Ilsa's chestnut hair. "Ilsa was doing what she loved," you tell her without looking at her. You look at Ethan and place a hand on his knee, "Go talk to her."

You continue talking to her despite the fact that you look mad doing it. "You did good, my love. You did so good. I hope you can finally have some peace." You press a kiss to her warm lips before pressing your forehead against her.

Benji quickly but surely arrives only a couple of seconds later. He takes in Grace's hysterical expression and Ethan comforting her before his gaze landed on you. Your back faced him but he could see the tip of Ilsa's head. He hops out of the boat and rushed over to you.

"No, it can't be true. Ilsa..."

He takes in her pale complexion and the lack of movement from her chest. You look up with your tear-stricken eyes and a string of silent communication travels from your eyes to his. It was done.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry. This wasn't how it was to go down."

You nodded sadly, "I know."

You sniff harshly and brush your tears away roughly. "Please can we just take her home," you clear your throat, "I don't want us to be all exposed here and she deserves a proper burial."

Benji nods, understanding, "Do you need me to help?"

You shake your head and lift her easily into your arms. You take her back onto the boat to the underside, safe from the eyes of the Entity where she finally opens her eyes. You burst into tears then, for real this time. She brushes them away, shushing you.

"I love you too," she whispered to you, "I'm okay. Didn't I tell you everything would be fine?"

You nod, still trying to recover from the events of the bridge.

"If you could give me a hand though," she said pointedly, looking at the knife.

"Oh yes, of course."

"It's a cute knife but it would be better out of my body," she muttered.

You chuckle before indicating to her shirt then your knife, she nods. You slice open her shirt to get better access to the wound. "If you wanted take me to bed you could've just asked," she teased and you rolled your eyes.

You open your duffle bag to take out your medical supplies. You spray antiseptic over her wound and she hisses. "Sorry."

She shook her head, "It's fine. Do whatever you need to."

You get a firm grip on the knife and give it a big tug. It comes out quickly and leaves Ilsa groaning in pain. You toss the knife across the boat and rip open a packet of gauze and cover her wound. "Here, apply pressure. I'll stitch you up."

You take out your suturing kit and help her lay down in the cramped cabin of the boat.

"I only have numbing spray," you tell her and she nods, "Okay, it might sting a little."

She nods again. You remove the gauze and throw 3 tight but delicate sutures on her shoulder before wrapping her chest with bandages.

"Now let's look at that stomach of yours," you said before moving to her abdomen. It had a wider slash but the cut wasn't as deep as the one of her chest. You stitch it up nonetheless then wrap it. You move to her leg and she very gracefully takes off her pants to reveal the wound. It was a small slice, 2 inches wide. You stitch her up and bandage her.

Benji stomps on the floor of the boat to indicate your arrival. You look back at Ilsa. "Ready to hide again?" You asked and she nods. You drape a sheet over her body before lifting her into your arms and carrying her to the safe house. Luther gives your arm a squeeze when he sees you and you blink appreciatively before going to the room you had claimed and laying her on the bed. You remove the sheet and she looks back at you.

"Get some rest," you told her.

—

She was still bleeding heavily despite the stitches you gave her but you were on your own. The rest of the team had left to deal with the mission while you stayed behind and cared for Ilsa. You cleaned her bandages each night and replenished her with nutrients. You bought medical supplies and stole some from a local hospital and brought them back to her. She gets a fever on the second day and falls unconscious, shuddering ever so slightly in her sleep.

You took in her pale appearance in the bed. She sunk into the bed and her freckles looked dull. They never looked like that. You prayed for her to wake up so that the color would return to them. She looked so weak, her skin as pale as moonlight. She looked too frail. Too unlike the Ilsa you knew. You knew she had to get better soon, she had too. You wrung put a wet cloth and wiped her burning forehead. She starting to show early signs of infection so you fed her antibiotics and stayed by her side every night, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest.

Her fever finally broke on the fourth day. She wakes up and say your hunched over position by the side of her bed. She smiled gratefully at her guardian angel and combed through your hair. You sat up quickly at the feeling.

"You're alive," she croaked, her throat raspy from disuse.

"You're awake. God, I thought we would never make it out of that," you tell her.

"Oh baby," she said, a hand coming up to your face, brushing your cheek, "I'm okay. I'm alive. See?"

She brings your fingers to her wrist and you felt her soothing heart beat. You laid your head against her wrist. "Come, lay with me."

She slowly scoots over and you slide onto the bed with her and take her into your arms. "Don't move too much," you told her, "You'll tear your stitches."

"Thank you for being here," she said.

"I wouldn't be anywhere else. Just get some sleep, darling. I'll be here when you wake up," you told her, smoothing her hair. "Thank you for coming back to me," you whispered into her hairline and she closed her eyes with a smile on her face. You kiss her freckles repeatedly until she falls asleep.

—

When she finally heals, that's when the two of you say your goodbyes. Ethan, Benji, and Luther were the only ones there.

"But if you need me, I'll only be a call away," she told him and slipped a flip phone into his front pocket, "Only use it for emergencies. As far as the world knows, I'm dead." She gives him a tight hug. "And what about you?" Ethan asked, "What happens in your story?"

You shrug, "The love of my life dies and I decide to move to the quiet countryside of France and teach English." Ethan smiles, nodding his head, "That suits you." He gives you a hug as well.

"Treat her well," he told you and you nodded.

"If you're ever in France and need somewhere to stay..." you trailed off.

"I look forward to taking you up on your offer," he said.

"You ready?" You asked Ilsa and she nodded. She picked up her duffle bag and gave her last farewells to Luther and Benji.

"Come visit, okay?" She tells the both of them and they nod.

"Take care, Ilsa," Benji said while hugging her.

You approach Ethan one more time and take your favorite knife out from behind your back. It had an ivory white handle, a Persian tip, and a beautifully intricate wave pattern over the blade.

"This is for Grace. Tell her it's my gift to her for joining the IMF and taking Ilsa's place. We finally gets our happy ending now and it's all thanks to her."

Ethan nods, "I will."

"If any of you ever need us, I'll be there. You're Ilsa's family— mine by extension, we will show up, no matter what."

Ilsa laces her fingers with yours and nods. She gives you a kiss.

"Bye," you said. You and Ilsa exit to the boat that Ethan bought and placed under his name. The plan was to sail to France. It was a short ride and Ethan had packed everything you could possibly need into the boat.

"Go hide," you tell Ilsa and she nodded, "I'll let you know when we reach open waters."

—

You and Ilsa move into a chateau in the countryside, 30 minutes away from the beach. A place where the two of you could start fresh and build your family. There was a quiet town about a 10 minute bike ride, no surveillance cameras, just the eyes of locals who admired the love you and Ilsa had for each other. You and Ilsa went there on the weekends for grocery shopping before wandering around, trying the new patisserie shop around the corner, letting Ilsa feed you bits of croissant. The town made you and Ilsa feel young again, you would go out dancing like you were in your 20s, giggle in the back corners of the bookstore as you kissed one another and picked books for each other, let each other try their ice cream before agreeing which one was better. This quiet life, the one you and Ilsa always dreamed of was finally happening.

The two of you lounged on the couch together, reading. It was raining outside and the fire was crackling. She laid against your chest and you had an arm flung over her shoulder. She looks at your hand, the ring she gave you and smiles contentedly. She fiddles with the ring on your ring finger before smiling back up at you.

"Hey," you said, noticing her staring.

She moved your glasses from your face to the top of your head before cupping your face to kiss you.

"I'm happy we did this," she tells you.

"Me too."

She plays with your fingers while waiting, hesitantly, for the right moment to ask you a question that could change your lives.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" You asked, noticing her shift of mood.

She sits up and turns around, sitting on the backs of her heels, so she can talk to you face-to-face. "Would you ever want kids?" She swallowed harshly, waiting for your answer.

Your lips eventually break into a smile and nod, "If it's with you, then yes."

You put down your book and take her hands into your own before pulling her to rest on your chest. You stroked her back and played with the ends of her hair.

"Is that what was worrying you so much?"

She nods against your chest.

"I've been dreaming about having kids with you for forever, Ilsa. Of course I want them. I can't wait to see a mini you running around the house."

"I could settle for a mini you too," she tells you.

She smiled against your skin, her chest warming at the idea.

She lifts her head and kisses along your jaw. She nestled into the crook of your neck, breathing in your perfume. She felt a sense of fulfillment resting here in your arms. A fulfillment that she never got from joining Ethan's team. You offered her a life filled with love and safety and she wishes she had seen that earlier instead of running away. But there was no point in dwelling on the past now. You held her in your arms and she was going to cherish every single moment she could spend with you.

#ilsa faust x reader #ilsa faust #ethan hunt #rebecca ferguson x reader #rebecca ferguson #benji dunn #grace #luther stickell #mission impossible #fix-it fic #fluff #i hate tags

[denimbex1986]

'It should come as no surprise that Russell T Davies, the man behind Queer As Folk, the one who first made Doctor Who tangibly gay, has returned to the franchise with what might be its queerest outing yet. But even we were surprised by quite how integral LGBTQ+ themes would be to the story this time around.

Much has been made of David Tennant and Catherine Tate's return, yet it's Yasmin Finney's brand-new character Rose who's at the heart of this Star Beast special.

Donna's daughter befriends The Meep first, and she's also the one who saves London when The Meep reveals itself to be evil. What's special about this is that it's Rose's trans identity specifically that proves key to her victory.

When we last saw her mother, Donna had absorbed some of the Doctor's energy, creating a 'metacrisis' that would have killed her if the Doctor had not erased her memories. But when she's reminded again of the Time Lord's existence in this latest episode, Donna survives intact, and that's because when she gave birth to Rose, she unknowingly split that energy between them, halving their potentially devastating impact.

As Donna's memories return, Rose's innate Timelord energy is then activated too, enabling her to stop Meep with newfound knowledge and abilities from her position on the ground.

Rose's non-binary identity stems from The Doctor's. (The show finally acknowledges them to be gender-fluid after they presented as both male and female over the course of the franchise). That means the source of Rose's power comes directly from her nature as a non-binary individual, positioning her as a hero because of her gender identity and not despite of it.

That's not to say Doctor Who shies away from the difficulties trans people face in real life. Earlier on in the same episode, bullies deadname Rose in the street and soon after, Donna's own mother, Sylvia, accidentally misgenders Rose as well, despite her good intentions.

Donna's response to all this? "I would burn down the world for you, darling," and honestly, that's how we feel after seeing some of the negative feedback these scenes have received online.

Despite scoring strong reviews from critics and the majority of fans, it seems not everyone is celebrating Doctor Who's much-lauded return.

On Rotten Tomatoes, trolls are review-bombing the episode, bringing the audience score down to 41%, which is a huge contrast from the critics rating of 89%. Of course, everyone is entitled to their own opinion and the episode won't be to everyone's tastes, but when comments suggest the show 'needs to stop pushing talk of pronouns onto kids', it's safe to say most of these opinions are grounded in hate and ignorance.

Imagine being shocked that a show about an alien who regularly changes their body and gender would dare acknowledge such concepts?

In the days following the special, a hashtag named #RIPDoctorWho continued this backlash on X/Twitter, to which Doctor Who casting director Andy Pryor said the following:

"Just stopped by to say that on @bbcdoctor who (or any of our work) we don't work hard to cast inclusively for publicity. We do it because we like stories. & stories should speak to all of us & include all of us. And if one person feels a little less alone, then."

With more queer cast members on the way, including Neil Patrick Harris as the villainous Toymaker and Ncuti Gatwa as the new face of The Doctor himself, the future of Doctor Who is looking queerer by the day.

But it's not just the future that's queer.

To those who baulk at more inclusivity in future seasons, we can't help but wonder: What show have you been watching this whole time? Because Doctor Who is super queer — and it always has been.

Yes, even before Jack Harkness slapped a guy's arse or Bill Potts fell for a puddle named Heather, the Classic era channeled queerness with how it defied the establishment and stood up for those who need it most. It's hard to exaggerate how much stories like this resonated with LGBTQ+ people at a time when positive representation was almost non-existent on screen.

It's no wonder then that a sizeable chunk of Doctor Who's fandom identifies as queer, even if the show wasn't able to address LGBTQ+ fans directly until (queer lifelong fan) Russell T Davies regenerated the franchise in 2005.

But now, all these years later, The Star Beast ushers in a new chapter for Doctor Who where the show can finally live up to the inclusive ethos it's always striven for.

That's not to diminish the positive steps other showrunners have taken in the interim. 2015's 'Sleep No More' featured Doctor Who's first trans actress, Bethany Black, and season twelve's 'Praxeus' successfully flipped the 'Bury Your Gays' trope, although the less said about how season 13 handled #Thasmin the better.

And it's not like everything is suddenly perfect now. Rose's metacrisis abilities could feed into sci-fi tropes around trans/non-binary identities being considered "alien", plus the inclusion of Rose's deadname has garnered a mixed response from the trans community online.

While some argue this has given trolls the opportunity to use that name venomously against her character, others point out that transphobia is a reality the show shouldn't shy away from.

The moment when Rose calls the Doctor out for assuming Meep's pronouns might feel a bit-on-the-nose for some too, although if this kind of talk immediately heralds the end of the franchise for you, you might want to cast your mind back a few decades to 1972's 'The Curse of Peladon' where the Doctor and Jo discussed Alpha Centauri's pronouns at length.

But still, seeing trans and non-binary identities celebrated to this degree is very much welcome regardless, especially in a family show with such a huge fanbase like Doctor Who. This is the kind of storytelling that saves lives, trolls be damned.

And now, with the impending arrival of more trans actors and characters in Yasmin Finney's wake — including Jinkx Monsoon, Mary Malone and Pete MacHale — Doctor Who's next season promises to be more inclusive than ever before.

If you have a problem with that, remember that your hero, the good Doctor, would never discriminate against trans people, or any other marginalised group for that matter either. So why would you?'

#Doctor Who #The Star Beast #60th Anniversary #Catherine Tate #Donna Noble #Yasmin Finney #Rose Noble #David Tennant #Neil Patrick Harris #Russell T. Davies #Queer As Folk #The Curse of Peladon #Jinkx Monsoon #Mary Malone #Pete MacHale #The Toymaker #Ncuti Gatwa #Bethany Black #Sleep No More #Praxeus

[southfarthing]

London!!! There were SO many people – we marched for three hours and couldn't even make it NEAR the bridge, let alone cross it and make it to the US embassy at the end. It must have been close to a million protestors, if not more. I travelled from hours away, and saw many others from different cities across the country. Truly a national British march, and an amazing display of solidarity.

Everyone was polite, friendly, caring and respectful. People from all walks of life (families with children, young and elderly, people walking with their dogs) banding together to demand for a ceasefire – the bare minimum, really. I cannot understand how anyone can physically disagree with stopping the bombing of civilians, or how calling for an armistice on Armistice Day can be seen as a disrespectful or provocative stance.

The only disrespect and provocation yesterday was by the hateful racist thugs who turned up way before the march started (still not sure what they were so angry about or why they felt it was relevant to them), caused a scene at the cenotaph (which we were nowhere near), harassed police officers, and tried so hard (and miserably failed) to attack people marching for an end to violence.

All in all, a bad day for racists and a wonderful day for Brits making their anti-war and anti-genocide voices loud and clear. 💛

#a lot of stopping and starting 😭 im so shattered but what a wonderful day!!! #uk #palestine #mp

[shuinami]

Part 2: Why is the accent? Where and when does Hobie come from? Part 1: Who, What (London Accents) | Part 3: How (Writing Tips)

In this section, we'll touch on racism since the 70s, black Londoner youth culture and how punk has historically interacted with those things.

To begin, let’s answer the question of what the hell all us black people are doing here in the U.K. 😂

Long story short, after World War II, the U.K. invited subjects of the empire over, in need of help rebuilding the place and doing essential work after getting bombed and stuff. There was further incentive on the subjects’ side to come as many of their men had been sent off for the war but were out of work and not properly compensated upon their return, leading to a poor economy and many people hoping for better in the ‘mother country’. Caribbean people, mostly Jamaicans, came over from then right through the 60s but were not welcomed and treated as British as many of them thought they might be… cause, you know, racism. 

In 1962, 1968, 1971 and 1981, legislation was passed that made it incredibly difficult for black Caribbeans to come over, even to this day, which led to the migration of black people shifting to predominantly Africans, mostly West Africans, in the 80s, who would come for education and work purposes mostly. (For context, in the 2020s, there are more African people than Caribbean people in the U.K.). In the 70s and 90s, East Africans fleeing conflict have also immigrated en masse, although the numbers were quite a bit smaller than the West African and black Caribbean diaspora.

[not an expansive breakdown of all ethnicities, I just wanted to talk about the most populous black nationalities for the general gist of where black British life really got on a roll]

So, onto life as a black person in the U.K. 

It’s important to remember that the U.K. was racist as fuck AND did not have Jim Crow laws or a history of relegating certain cities or neighbourhoods to ethnic minorities because, by the time we had been invited, there were not so many of us living in England for such laws to be deemed necessary (by racists). 

Living literally side by side, often in the same building, with people who wanted to see them brutalized had a big impact on how black British people navigated life back then and has residual cultural effects on how we behave to this day. 

One thing that stood out to me was the line where Hobie says he has “a laugh at the pub with the mandem”. As many of you will know, the pub is a large part of general British culture as the main drinking scene. Until more recently, you couldn’t just go and buy alcohol from the supermarket or whatever like you can now, so people had to go to the pub for a drink. Additionally, during times when getting clean water was unreliable due to cholera outbreaks, a drink from the pub was safer than drinking water.

It’s also important to know that, unlike clubs, many pubs sell food and are family-friendly, so while it’s not likely for a little kid to be bouncing to go the pub because it’s just basically like a restaurant to them, it’s a place that a child can be used to going to.

Not only do pubs sell food, but pubs also are places that are mostly used to watch football, as well as play pool, participate in pub quizzes (competitive general knowledge pop quizzes done in teams) and generally be out late to sit and talk.

That being said, as I mentioned before, how black people navigate where we live is different to how white people do.

Whilst many black people will go to the pub with their work colleagues or with their mixed friend groups, pubs generally have never been a haunt for black adolescents.

Instead, black drinking culture is more associated with dance and music, i.e. house parties, clubs (particularly clubs or club nights where music popular amongst the black community is played and, in older times, basement boozers) and lounges. Unlike white counterparts, most black kids will not have grown up going to the pub or around people who went and would not be used to going until they got invited out, likely by workmates.

To this day, although racism has chilled out so much since the mid-20th century, a lot of younger people actually still have a latent fear of facing racism from white football hooligan types and drunk, older white people in pubs. If you went to a pub, you typically wouldn’t see many young black people in there, if any. 

The epitome of this mindset was on display during the last World Cup, during which Gen Z black U.K. TikTok was filled with half-jokes about the brutality they would face sitting in the pub to watch an England game if a black team member were to miss a kick or otherwise make a mistake. It was something we joked about in real life too and there was a rumour that went around - which many of us believed to be true - that two black guys had been thrown in the Thames because the black players had missed the penalty kicks they took. 

It was just a rumour, however, people did take to racially abusing the players online and, whilst it wasn’t true, you can see what the general attitude towards pubs tends to be and why it’s not a hotspot for black youth. 

There are U.K. pubs that historically have had more black patronage in black communities but there’s only a few and they’re not really a thing in London.

Knowing that, it’s not to say that no young black people frequent pubs, but it means that it says something about Hobie that he does (or his world, which we’ll talk about later). What it says exactly is up to your headcanon, but it’s worth noting that it’s not typical for a black teenager in London to hang out at the pub, even if they are rebellious and not concerned by the drinking age.

So you may be thinking, damn, why do pubs have such a reputation? What happened that meant that - to this day - there’s such a divide?

While the U.K. was always racist and was unwelcoming to those who arrived during the Windrush period, it continued to get worse going into the 70s. The increasing popularity of the fascistic political party called the ‘National Front’ saw the rise of ‘the immigrants are taking our jobs’ rhetoric used to appeal to the white working class that persists, to a less extreme, today, such as with the political party UKIP, as well as the English Defense League (EDL), both of which have taken on a more Islamophobic angle than the focused and explicit anti-black & anti-browness of the National Front. The National Front’s supporters would chant and sing stuff like “We’re gonna send the blacks back”.

In daily life, black kids had to deal with shameless racism, bullying and violence from their white peers. There was a ‘sus’ law implemented, which essentially made it so that police could (and very much did) stop and arrest any black person they saw on the street that they felt was ““““suspected person””””, which included unprovable and outrageously ridiculous bullshit like being suspected of ‘loitering with the intent to steal’ (so basically, if you’re black and outside, you were - and still are, especially if you’re young - likely to be suspected of this). As mentioned earlier, there were people who would watch games and get drunk in the pub, then go out into the streets on a destructive rampage would also take those opportunities of chaos to physically assault black and brown people.

All of this was on top of institutional racism and micro-aggressions like we have today but turned up to 10. Minorities didn’t feel safe going around their own city alone for fear of getting mobbed or having rocks thrown at them. Even in their own homes, racists were putting literal shit and bombs in their letterboxes. The popularity of the National Front saw a rise in Nazism - an especially wild expression of racism, considering the Nazis had bombed the fuck out of London in WW2, which was the reason the U.K. went crying to the subjects for help in the first place. 

So, naturally, ethnic Londoners tended to craft and operate in their own spaces when it came to leisure, more attuned to the cultures from their family’s countries of origin as well as the kinds where they were just generally more accepted for who they are. Though no longer out of necessity for safety, this aspect of Black British culture persists today, to a lesser extent though, and latent anxieties about acts of extreme racism still remain in the collective subconscious, even though most young people today will have never experienced such extremes.

Just for clarity, this is not to say black people are afraid of white people in general, I’m not sure that could even have been said in the 70s, since there were also plenty of non-racist (aka normal) people too. Back then, the culture was probably a lot more gatekept than it has been for the past few decades, but I’m trying to explain why black British culture and black British life is a different experience to being white British, it’s not only experiencing racism, but it’s also that we just do different stuff cause we historically didn’t feel welcome at their figurative tables and thus did our own thing mostly. It’s why you still get friend groups that are predominantly black despite everyone’s families likely coming from different countries with different cultures, because we relate in terms of black British culture and not feeling especially understood amongst white counterparts. But if white people make us feel like they are down with us, we’re down with them, as one would hope lol.

Speaking of down white people, another huge part of Hobie’s character is that he’s a punk, of course.

So, not gonna lie to you guys, due to the things I just stated about how black people had to navigate the world and craft their own spaces in order to feel comfortable and safe, the punk scene (as we would think of it) has never been a thing that was popular amongst black British people. It’s a predominantly white scene and during the 70s was not unaffected by rising Nazism. To this day, there are still Nazi punks and what we call dirtbag leftists, so you can imagine, at the time, though there were and still are more non-racist white punks, there were enough Nazis that a. it’s not something that seemed welcoming to black people and b. non-racist White punks in the 70s felt that the Nazi problem was bad enough that they needed to do something big about it, which we’ll get onto. 

Because we’re not a monolith, of course, there were black punks such as Poly Styrene, the lead singer of X-Ray Spex, and Basement 5, a punk-reggae band (remember this), but other than that, I haven’t been able to find documentation of black punk life in particular, nor have I been able to get any personal accounts from family. Punk is a small-ish scene to begin with, so you can imagine that the black people who participated are very few. Here, I’m not trying to say that few black people enjoyed listening to the music as part of their taste, I’m pretty sure a lot of young people would have liked the music but not necessarily been active in the scene/culture in the way that white counterparts were. 

Again, the fact that Hobie is a full-out punk as a black teen says something about him or his world; what in particular, is totally up to interpretation and headcanon, but understand that it’s another unique behaviour.

A similar thing that did include black people was ‘skinhead’ culture, something that emerged from and celebrated the working class, especially Jamaican people, in the 1960s, but it was co-opted by ‘punk’ and white people, then drifted away from its associations with and relevance amongst black people and became most popular amongst Nazis in the 80s, associated with the ‘British Movement’. Most people will think of racist white football hooligan types when they think of skinheads nowadays, even though in reality, for both punks and skinheads, not all people in these subcultures are racist/fascist. 

As I mentioned earlier, because minorities were living side by side with working-class white people, a lot of stuff that wasn’t kind of gatekeepy (i.e. super black) has always been at risk of being yanked from us and has historically been done by literal Nazis and I’m sure this plays a part in alternative scenes that stray very far from the cultures we’re raised in not being the most popular amongst us.

Nonetheless, non-racist punks and black people agreed on a lot of core points about classism/capitalism and the need to stomp out racism, which led to white punks starting the Rock Against Racism (RAR) organisation, which held concerts across the country with the intention of bringing people together to take a stand against racism. If you’re able to, I recommend watching the documentary about it called White Riot (2019), which whilst it does include some black interviewees, focuses on the white punks’ side of things and the racism of the time, as opposed to black life. Still worth the watch :)

Other than punk rock, you know what other acts were invited to play at these RAR concerts?

 Black musicians who played funk and reggae were also invited. Even though their music taste was different, the message was the same. Additionally, it might surprise non-British people to hear but even white British people have long loved themselves some reggae, hence Bob Marley’s popularity here.

Reggae is a genre that is often used to speak on politics and social issues, it’s why Rastafarians love it and make such music. So, whilst the punk-reggae fusion of Basement 5 might sound strange today when reggae is not as popular as it once was, it makes total sense why. You can also see references to the London punk scene in the 70s (the time he was living in London) in Bob Marley’s song “Punky Reggae Party”.

I mention this to emphasise how the blackness of black British people, even in white space, has not typically proven to give way, that to be punk or believe in such values is not to relinquish all traces of black culture. I also say this to say, as I’ve said in a previous post bouncing off of Daniel Kaluuya’s thoughts on ‘punk’, that people who are adamant Hobie would not listen to genres of music that are popular with or created by predominantly black people alongside the more typical punk rock give off strange vibes. There’s no precedent for a black person to totally give up that part of them that they would’ve grown up with just because they’ve solidified a political view. Of course, some people are less into it than others, as I said earlier, black people are not a monolith, but given all this context, I’m begging people to not post things like ‘Hobie would never listen to [insert black genre here] because he’s a punk! Other people’s headcanons/playlists are stupid and they’re punk posers!’. 

You can believe he only listens to genres of rock, and that’s fine, but stop telling black people that their headcanons where they project their more black tastes onto Hobie are inaccurate because they aren’t and it’s very strange to gatekeep interpretations of a black character from blackness in that way.

If you do want to know some genres popular amongst or pioneered by black British people, most of which popped off in the 90s, look to grime (hip hop, electronic), garage (electronic), drum n bass (electronic), jungle (electronic), U.K. drill (hip hop), afroswing (hip hop, r&b), reggae, dancehall (hip hop, reggae), hip hop, funk and r&b. I’d say pop since it’s popular amongst all ethnicities lol but, since Hobie is a punk, you’re gonna wanna exchange that for rock and indie, though I think it’s also fair to think there’s a few pop songs that Hobie would like, since being an anarcho-communist doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun, idk. Headcanons and stuff are not really what I’m here to share or enforce. Plus, of course, a lot of these genres are anachronistic but, at the same time, I’m pretty sure most people’s playlists feature more modern songs anyway, hell, even the song selected as Hobie’s intro is from 2011.

And none of this is not to downplay Hobie’s love of rock genres either.

I did make a playlist for myself, if anyone wants it or recommendations you can drop an ask 🤓

In the past few years, there’s been a noticeable growth of alternative life in London black youth culture, notably the roller-skating scene, as well as more people participating in more classic takes on alternative culture like goths, punks, etc. and, of course, black nerd culture has been popping since the late 90s. The black people participating in these alternative cultures aren’t relinquishing their blackness, putting hip-hop in the bin and whatnot - people can be multi-faceted.

What I hope you take away from this is that Hobie is a unique and nuanced character, he’s not a typical representation of any of the things he is, which is personally why I love him so much. I also hope you understand that being a black punk in the U.K., before more recent times, would have been a different thing to being a white punk because, not only are you participating in a counter-culture, you’re going outside the safety net and norms of black British culture which has been positioned as inherently counter-cultural anyways and is one you can never hide your associations with or come out of. It says a lot about him, it comes down to headcanon what, but it’s important to recognise that these aspects of him are not a given but things that would have been purposeful developments or huge moments of self-discovery in his life.

Headcanons are something that throws somewhat of a spanner into the works. Everything I’ve said is historically accurate but we also don’t know that Earth-138’s New London would reflect all these aspects of our Earth’s London. Perhaps 138 is written in a race-blind kind of way or, not coming from black British culture, the writers may not envision the world authentically from our point of view and might be unaware of how it’s different; maybe the execs would not allow them to tap into the racist aspect of Nazism and have the writers keep it vague for marketability's sake; hell, maybe the date on the mugshot was just an Easter egg and not a canon-accurate date, who knows? 

On top of that, if you headcanon Hobie as a transracial adoptee (meaning adopted by people of another race) or that he was orphaned at a very young age or otherwise not enculturated and socialised as a black boy, maybe none of this applies. 

From the current slang to the casting of Daniel Kaluuya, it seems clear to me that, in tandem with the retro vibe, Hobie has been designed to also evoke more contemporary ideas of blackness so the full picture of what the writers have in mind is anyone’s guess at this point.

That being said, I feel like those conclusions would all take some stretching and reaching to come to. I’m not here to tell you what you can and cannot interpret or write, but I’m just trying to give some information so you can write more accurately and understand Hobie and Black Londoner life better.

So, now you understand where we’re coming from, I think you’re ready for the writing advice 😎

#atsv fanfiction #hobie brown #spider punk #black british #across the spiderverse #shui fic #shuinami

[ur-mag]

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#Celebrities #Furious London 7/7 survivors slam ‘barbaric’ Disney as it films shocking scenes recreating fatal bombings for TV drama #Money #Motors #Politics #ShowBiz #Sport #Tech #UK #US #World

[glennk56]

William Hootkins in the 1970s.

William Hootkins was born in Texas in 1948. He was active in theater in High School and at Princeton University and interested in becoming a professional actor after graduating. His his friend John Lithgow recommended he move to England to continue his acting education, probably because he knew he'd get greater opportunities. So he moved to England in the 1970s and trained at The London Academy of Music and Dramatic Art. He continued mainly in theater and took film roles when he could. His first film role was a small role as a henchman in the British R rated film, Big Zapper in 1973.

Big Zapper, 1973. Small role and Hootkins would've been 24-25 years old during filming.

Anthology series Plays for Britain. Hootkins gets a small role in the episode The Paradise Run in 1976.

An anthology Documentary series, Horizon, which featured film adaptations of real-life events. Hootkins had a greater role in this 1976 offering Billion Dollar Bubble which starred James Woods about Insurance Company fraud in the early years of computers.

Still in his 20s, Hootkins got a small role in a major American film directed by Robert Aldrich and the opportunity to share a scene with Charles Durning, Twilight's Last Gleaming in 1977.

Also in 1977, Hootkins played Porkins in a small role in the 1977 blockbuster Star Wars. Small role but big enough to get his own action figure.

And again in 1977, Hootkins worked with Director Ken Russell in Valentino in a high energy scene of a drunken, egotistical silent film star. The movie was a bomb mainly because it wasn't the biopic of Rudolph Valentino that people expected. Russell took too much license in the life of Valentino to tell a more interesting story. I think what was known of the real lives of stars back then was greatly what the studio wanted to present to the public. So I think Russell was justified.

1977 was an especially good year for William Hootkins. The above photos are from a US-UK collaboration of a teleplay version of Come Back, Little Sheba starring Laurence Olivier and Joanne Woodward. Hootkins is in one scene only. Also in 1977, Hootkins appeared in episodes of British TV series, Van der Volk, Yanks Go Home, Plum's Plots and Plans and Documentary Series, The Lively Arts.

In 1978. Hootkins appeared in Part 1 of Clouds of Glory, a 2-part series of the lives of Poets, William Wordsworth and Samuel T Coleridge. Hootkins appeared with David Warner.

Late 1978, now William Hootkins is 30 years old and no denying the hair loss. He appears in all 3 episodes of the British miniseries The Lost Boys, about Peter Pan writer J. M. Barrie starring Ian Holm, presenting Barrie as homosexual and a pedophile (at least only in his mind). Hootkins plays Barrie's American friend, Broadway and London Theater Producer Charles Frohman.

Hootkins appeared in one episode of British 13-part miniseries Lillie, the story of Lillie Langtry in 1978.

In 1979, Hootkins appeared in Hanover Street as Beef with Harrison Ford.

Also in 1979, he played a very small role in a remake of The Lady Vanishes with Cybill Shepherd and Angela Lansbury.

#William Hootkins #1970s #fat actor #American actor on British TV

[youryurigoddess]

The stuff dreams are made of, or the interesting case of Anthony J. Crowley

We’ve talked a bit about Crowley’s trauma and his way of reclaiming the narrative in the past, but it’s time for some deep dive into the story he’s trying to tell. A story that meanders through the fabric of time and space, slightly changing with the human fashion trends, but slowly and surely bringing the demon closer to a certain angel like the red thread of fate.

1793

Some stories start in a garden, some even Before the Beginning, but this one starts with an Arrangement. Or, to be precise, a little bit after that.

See, most of the iterations of Crowley we saw throughout the history until then didn’t delve too deep into human cultural tropes. If anything, they were the inspirations behind more or less prominent biblical figures, maybe some nameless villains matching his demonic provenance and role assigned to him by his employers.

But in the hustle and bustle of the revolutionary Paris, Crowley emerges as a prototype of the Scarlet Pimpernel — a chivalrous Englishman who rescues aristocrats before they are sent to the guillotine. Stan Lee famously called him “the first character who could be called a superhero”.

Sir Percy Blakeney, the main character of the novel and the West End play under the same title, leads a double life. Appearing as nothing more than a wealthy fop, in reality he’s a formidable swordsman, a quick-thinking master of disguise and an escape artist. Even his own wife, Marguerite, has no idea.

Unfortunately Marguerite is being blackmailed with her brother’s life to find and expose the wanted Pimpernel. She regrets betraying her husband the moment she's forced to do it and spends the rest of the plot working to save him. She does, they make up, and return together to England.

In Aziraphale and Crowley’s case there was just a short stop for crêpes. But what seems to be an inspiration of a specific scene might as well come up later in the wider perspective of the show, so keep in mind those fragments of the musical’s libretto:

We all are caught in the middle

of one long treacherous riddle.

Can I trust you?

Should you trust me too?...

We shamble on through this hell

taking on more secrets to sell

'til there comes a day

when we sell our souls away.

We seek him here, we seek him there,

Those Frenchies seek him everywhere!

Is he in heaven? Is he in hell?

Where is that damn elusive Pimpernel!

1941

The London Blitz is when we see a full-fledged iteration of the superhero Crowley performing dashing and heroic deeds under the literal cover of darkness and air bomb smoke. In a bespoke double-breasted suit and a fedora — still free from the unfortunate modern connotations from the internet culture — he’s clearly channeling Humphrey Bogart as a private investigator Sam Spade in The Maltese Falcon (1941) now.

It all starts with a woman and a simple plan gone wrong: Spade’s partner is shot dead, just like the man he was supposed to be tailing upon the request of a mysterious Miss Wonderly. And when a very soft-looking, sweet-scented man named Joel Cairo appears in his office willing to pay a hefty price for a "black figure of a bird", Spade starts not only a new job, but also his own quest for truth.

On the surface, The Maltese Falcon ends happily: the killer gets caught, and the hero winds up with the Falcon. But Spade's victory is completely hollow. The Falcon itself, originally meant as a symbol of loyalty, transforms into a symbol of a corrupting, futile, and self-destructive greed that makes people betray their own loyalties.

The treasure is just a worthless forgery and he’s fallen in love with the criminal — one of the first femmes fatales on screen. Despite his feelings for her and a kiss, Spade gives her up and submits the statuette as evidence, describing it as "the stuff that dreams are made of".

Remember the eagle lectern? The eagle was believed to be flying highest in the sky and therefore closest to heaven, symbolizing the carrying of the word of God to the four corners of the world. Aziraphale in the 1941 church scene is the closest to Heaven we’ve seen him on Earth. Just look at him: dressed in a smart, well-fitted coat with peaked lapels, symbolizing his Heavenly allegiance, and doing good this time not as a work assignment, but of his own accord. Being the closest to Heaven means the furthest and most unattainable for a demon like Crowley.

The Maltese Falcon is a metaphor for unattainability — things out of reach to desire and fight for, although never truly possess. It’s “the stuff that dreams are made of”. But Crowley secured the original — made of gold and encrusted with jewels, but hiding its real value under black enamel — eerily reminiscent of the demon himself and the unending kindness behind his inappropriately tight black clothing.

Quoting Michael Ralph — the production mastermind behind Good Omens — from the S01E04 “Saturday Morning Funtime” DVD commentary, “We wanted to tip our hat to the Maltese Falcon as being a precious object that no-one thought really exists but it does”. So we can safely assume that Crowley can and will achieve his dream in the future.

1967

Do you know what else happens in 1941 in Scotland? Ian Fleming, a British naval intelligence agent, meets with the famous occultist Aleister Crowley and asks him to lead the interrogation of newly imprisoned Rudolf Hess — a leading member of the Nazi Party in Nazi Germany appointed Deputy Führer — given the two men’s shared enthusiasm for the occult.

This meeting has a significant impact on Fleming’s work as a writer; Aleister Crowley becomes the inspiration for his first villain Le Chiffre and creates a blueprint for most of the James Bond’s franchise ever since 1953, the publication date of the novel Casino Royale.

Meanwhile our Anthony J. Crowley believes in himself not being the villain he’s usually and sometimes forcefully painted as, but a superhero in disguise. The character of James Bond in particular inspires him so much that he buys petrol to get the limited You Only Live Twice (1967) window decals for his Bentley, dons his own tactical turtleneck, and sets off to organize a heist like no other. Sean Connery style.

Like a typical superhero, Crowley’s once again both saved and betrayed by his love interest. Aziraphale leaves him with a thermos of Holy Water, a faint smile, and a hope that they’ll soon match their speeds to meet halfway at the Ritz. The cancelled heist is not an ending, but a promise of a new beginning. And the fact that UK decriminalizes homosexual acts in the very same year is more than telling in this regard.

2019

An exceptional situation calls for exceptional solutions, and what’s more important than the impending Apocalypse? Demon Crowley does his best to put the arsenal of his 20th century film inspirations to good use.

"Ask yourself, do you feel lucky?" Crowley drawls, clearly imitating (although slightly misquoting) the titular Dirty Harry (1971). He’s hoping to be menacing and making the point of being the one on the right side of the law and history.

Some situations require more than quoting action heroes is not everything though. He knows what to do:

A jeep was heading purposefully towards the gate, and it looked as though it was crowded with people who were about to shout questions and fire guns and not worry about which order they did this in.

[Crowley] brightened up. This was more what you might call his area of competence.

He took his hands out of his pockets and he raised them like Bruce Lee and then he smiled like Lee Van Cleef.

'Ah,' he said, 'here comes transport.'

When in doubt, Crowley acts. He transforms into a combination of a stoic martial arts phenomenon and a sardonic, menacing character. His smile alone — even on Aziraphale’s angelic face, as seen in one of the final cut scenes — seems to be enough to ward off evil spirits, angels, and humans alike.

But we all know that even as breathtaking performances as those can’t protect anyone from the cogs of the Heavenly machine and its plans.

2023

No wonder that Crowley’s tactical turtleneck comes back in style after mere four years of retirement with a self-introduction “Former Demon, hated by Heaven, loathed by Hell. How will our hero cope?”. Something has changed during this time; he’s more mature now, not playing pretend by hiding behind the usual veneer of sarcasm and movie quotes anymore. Finally comfortable with the fact that this is his own story and there’s no need to become anyone else than himself.

The bookshop fire and the Heavenly trial still seem to haunt the demon in a way that makes him realize what all humans know: that every hero is his own biggest enemy. His ultimate dream might effortlessly change into his greatest nightmare any moment now, and the only thing he can do about it is hover in a two-minute distance from the epicenter of his feelings. But Crowley has no time to work on it when a new mission appears, to protect his angel from Gabriel and the combined powers of Heaven and Hell. Even if this — rather ostentatiously — is the last thing he wants to think about at the moment.

Crowley tries to plan ahead, while his story slowly warps into a different genre due to Aziraphale’s interruptions. He eventually changes back into his usual Henley shirt after agreeing to swap places and guarding the bookshop while the angel is off to Edinburgh, collecting more clues. Did he finish his personal quest off-screen? Did he just give up on it in the whirlwind of matchmaking shenanigans? Remains to be seen.

In the S2 finale our master of disguise in yet another turtleneck proves that he can successfully infiltrate even the universe’s back office. We don’t know where he drives off in the end, but one thing is certain — he’s got a plan. And a world (and his dream) to save, like a superhero he is.

#a turtleneck kind of day #crowley is a superhero #and a master spy #with a plan #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #go2 meta #ineffable husbands #crowley #turtleneck crowley #yuri is doing her thing

[georgies-ftts]

my thoughts and opinions on this weeks episode as someone who didn’t have time to watch last weeks episode, has never watched live american telly before and has discovered a new found hatred for your adverts. Also i swear a lot.

let’s begin

(spoilers obviously don’t be a knob)

1. he cannae be captain he’s only got two stripes on his epilette why are we focusing so much on this man

2. Bobby eyeing up that gun I like that (the acting)

3. this guy is giving me uncanny valley and i don’t like it

4. hehe dongle

5. i mean fair enough… in and out just like he said

6. Hen love of my life where the hell have you been loca

7. “and you won’t be anymore either” that’s actually dead funny to me

8. husbands that saw together survive trauma together <3

9. “everyone survived” i know foreshadowing when i see it

10. there’s a lot of drunk driver hatred (as deserved) somethings gonna occurr

11. oh he’s dead… lol karma fuckhead

12. Hen, i love you but why can noone on telly give me actual realistic CPR… break them ribs girl

13. christ these american adverts are weird

14. let me tell you advertising prescription medicine isn’t actually a normal thing to do

15. I don’t know boss man am no a dr but that’s an awful lot of blood are you sure you should still be breathing????

16. “Are you happy” “Yeah, Yeah I am” i have a feeling that’s all about to change buddy

17. just me or can anyone else not see a fucking thing that’s going on this episode why’s everyone in the dark for?

18. moving on from that i love the lighting in the office scene… chefs kiss

19. EXCUSE ME SHE WAS DOING HER JOB, NEXT YOU’LL SUSPEND HER FOR CODLING THE DRUNK DRIVER AND GIVING HIM TEA AND CHEEK KISSES PISS OFFFFF

20. Why do American comm’s systems always fail whenever you actually need them

21. They were axed to pieces. I will let you off -_- this time…

22. “I didn’t shoot him” honestly… same i hope you get yer pay out boss

23. Athena please for the love of god pop a paracetamol or a codeine and chill the fuck out

24. cause it has never been hard enough for them you just had to add a bastard bomb

25. ITS BEEN 5 MINUTES WHY MORE ADVERTS

26. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU ADVERTISING TO YOUR CITIZENS

27. The Rookie ad i love it carry on

28. If he wasn’t under the influence then he was just being a cunt and hen had every right to react as such thankyou very much

29. Oh my fuck what is happening - don’t tear them apart i’ll start crying

30. Bitch you’re taking on water stop being a pussy and help

31. “Don’t test me.” Queen, you rag his arse

32. “port stabilisers are gone” surely you should be tilting like a bitch right now or did i miss a frame

33. MORE FUCKING ADVERTS????

34. why’s that lizard from london?

35. WHY ARE YOU ADVERTISING DEMENTIA MEDICATION THAT IS LITERALLY ADVERTISED ALSO AS A DEATH PILL WHAT DO YOU MEAN COMA AND DEATH THATS NOT HELPING

36. “i didn’t save him either” he quite literally refused your help despite being detained

37. didn’t get that SS Menow reference… try the Mayflower next time

38. “Saving the ship” “course she is” GIVE THEM ONE MOMENT OF PEACE PLEASE I AM BEGGING YOU

39. okay good they are tilting like a bitch i will shut my mouth

40. NO STOP TILTING LIKE A BITCH I DONT CARE ABOUT REALISM I TAKE IT BACK NO

41. HOW MANY MORE ADVERTS DO YOU NEED

42. i don’t know but all your meds just seem to be doing the opposite of.. you know… keeping you alive.

43. woah therapy flash back get me one of those

44. you forgot to mention imminent death in your therapy session Mr Sir

45. “We did what we had to do” YOU’RE ALLOWED TO LIVE TOO.

46. “I couldn’t save my first family and I can’t save you either” and what if that was my last straw Robert Nash

47. ABC you can tone down the writing now i’m fucking sobbing

48. FUCK YOU AUSTRALIAN MAN I WAS CRYING MY EYES OUT

49. glad the us also have those Haribo ads

50. first time in my almost 20 years of life where i’ve seen an ADVERT for ANTIDEPRESSANTS that also actively make you MORE DEPRESSED

51. Hen i knew you were slaying you’ve never not slayed <3

52. no need for it was there mr boss man? no didn’t think so

53. You have no jurisdiction past the Gulf of Mexico??? ummmm??? distressed cruise ship full of your citizens???? idk??? do something????

54. oh. welp. no surviving that one, have fun with poseidon my loves

55. i don’t know about you but once i’ve been capsized like that in anything bigger than a kayak im giving up…

#911 series #911 abc #911 show #911 fox #911 spoilers #911 7x02 #athena grant #bobby nash #911 bobby #911 athena #911 hen #henrietta wilson #evan buck buckely #911 evan buckley #911 eddie #eddie diaz #911 chimney #chimney han #911 maddie #maddie buckley #bathena #bobby x athena