#(rosie's) elephant in the room

[topsyturvy-turtely]

(Rosie's) Elephant in the Room

Fandom: Sherlock (TV)

Words: 4491 (on ao3)

Summary: John Watson loves Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock Holmes loves John Watson. John Watson’s daughter loves her giant elephant plushie.

This is the story how the two men finally jump over their shadows and confess their feelings. All because of an elephant plushie.

---

Rosamund Mary Watson owned one thing she was incredibly proud of: her gigantic elephant plushie.

Name: Ellie Phant Astic

Gender: female

Age: 1 year 24 weeks and 5 days

Material: very soft fabric

Strengths: very good at hugging and listening. The best plushie in the whole wide world.

Weaknesses: shy, not talkative (only talks to Rosie Watson).

“Hi, Rosie, sweetie. What are you writing down?”, her dad (John Watson) asked, as he dropped his bag to the floor after he came home from work.

“Key data of Ellie Phant Astic. Look!”, proudly the girl showed off her scrawly handwriting to her dad, who squated down to kiss his daughter’s top of the head and review her professional plush toy data. Seven years old, exceedingly smart and good at social interactions as long as it only includes herself, her way too big elephant plushie and family, Rosie reminded John more of Sherlock than of himself. Writing down key data of a plush toy? Definitely a thing Sherlock did as a kid!

“Wow, that’s truly elephant-astic”, John joked and winked. Rosie giggled.

“I believe you call that a dad-joke, John”, Sherlock said leaning in the door frame, dressing gown over his sweatpants and a white T-shirt and a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Well,” John stood up and his spine made a clicking noise. “I am a dad, so I am allowed to make those.” John smiles. “How was your day with the little one?”

“Oh, it was quite ‘elephant-astic’, wouldn’t you agree, Watson?”, he said, making air-quotes when saying the really not that funny word.

Enthusiastically Rosie nodded her head. “Yessss! Phantie and Lock and me went to the pond in the park and fed the ducks and then we came home and played Cluedo and then I had to go down to Granny, because Lock was angry, because he wasn’t playing according to the rules but that’s okay because Phantie, Granny and I made cookies and they were delicious and I ate soooo much!”

“That sounds like quite a busy day, Rosie. But, I suggest you don’t play Cluedo with Lock anymore, he is extremely bad at it.”, the doctor said with a smirk directed at his flatmate.

Rosie laughed, looked at the tall detective, then at the 3 foot stuffed animal and finally whispered into John’s ear, “Phantie agrees.”

Knowing full well his Watsons were whispering and giggling over him, Sherlock countered, “I am not bad at Cluedo. This game is simply illogical.”

“Yeah, sure it is, Sherlock.”, John said and Rosie fell into a giggling fit. With a pout, Sherlock turned around and walked back into the kitchen.

Still smiling, John turned to Rosie. “I’ll be taking a shower and be right down. Will you be alright with Mr. Pouty-Face over there?”

Giggling, Rosie nodded and pointed at the giant elephant next to her, “Phantie and I can handle him.”

“Probably even better than I can, sweetheart.”, John said, gave Rosie another kiss and left to take a shower.

Upstairs John was overwhelmed by the chaotic mess of a room screaming at him. He used to have a very tidy room, apart from the occasional pants or jumper laying one day too long on the floor. That had changed when Rosie came and Mary had died. John had moved back in with Sherlock and was since then sharing his room with a little girl: Plushies everywhere, pirate costumes over his bed, a magnifying glass with a bunch of sheets with a kid’s colourful handwriting, on and around the desk. The closet door wide open, half of the clothes falling out.

This room was getting definitely too small for a little girl living her wildest dreams. Let alone a little girl and her father. Said girl wasn’t even that little anymore. They had two small singles now, instead of the queen sized bed, because Rosie was kicking like crazy in her sleep. John’s nightmares had gotten better with her close to him, but on bad nights he had to sleep on the couch downstairs, as to not disturb her. Or blankly stare onto the ceiling hoping sleep would make John its slave at some point. Thankfully Rosie slept like a stone most days.

And as much as it pained him and would for sure pain his daughter: John would have to move out soon, if he ever wanted to live like a grown man again. If he ever wanted Rosie to become not dependent on her father. They both needed their own space. For their own sakes.

John sighed, grabbed some fresh clothes and left the messy room to take a shower. Tomorrow. He would tell Sherlock they’d move out tomorrow.

Continue on Ao3 ;)

#turtely writes #(rosie's) elephant in the room #parentlock #lots of fluff #a tiny bit of angst but nothing severe i promise #idiots in love #love confessions #johnlock #johnlock ficlet #bbc sherlock #sherlock bbc #sherlock x john #john watson #sherlock holmes #rosie watson #mrs. hudson #johnlock fic on ao3 #happy about reblogs 🥰 #*throws badly cut out paper hearts at you*

[rosiespokemontwitterau]

We- We don’t talk about the elephant in the room—

#rosies twitter au #pokemon twitter au #twitter au #pokemon #pokemon masters #pokemon masters ex #pokemon rosa #pokemon bianca #pokemon nate #pokemon cheren #we don’t discuss them elephants in the room k 😤 #lol okay #I’m like tired it’s midnight here so like allow me to just die for now haha bye #sorry lol

[al1fers-haven]

"Bring your kid to work day."

Alastor fluff - a continuation of 'Almost Instictual' and 'Instinct.'

"Alastor, love." The radio demon turned around, looking at your disheveled frame before eying the baby in your arms. A gentle smile overtook your features as you attempted to not just fall over and go to sleep right there. "Y/n. Dear, you're not supposed to be up and about yet! Go back and rest-" You shook your head, putting a finger up as you shushed him and continued to rock the two-month-old in your arms. Taking a deep breath before speaking once again.

" I need you to take Maria out today, or just away from me for a little bit- I need to sleep and my stomach has been hurting so much. Please-" Alastor watched as you walked up to him and gently gave him the sleeping girl. He stiffened at the contact. "Y/n- I have a meeting today-" You waved your hand, dismissing his statement and laying back down in bed. You looked horrible. Still recovering from the C-section they had put you through after you went into labor. "I need sleep, I need time away so I don't strangle her. Please just take her for the day, or get a babysitter- I don't care."

Alastor wasn't someone who had much shame or could be embarrassed easily. It wasn't a secret that he would do things without thinking, and this moment was an example of just how bad that was.

"Is thou your offspring, Alastor?" Zestial poked a little black claw into the baby's face, a small chuckle leaving his form as the baby grabbed onto it. A babble left Maria's mouth before Alastor realized that he was being spoken to. "Biologically? No....But I have relations with her mother. Who is recovering from getting surgery and was asked to have the little thing accompany me today while she sleeps." The green man nodded. "Thou was domesticated my eyes see." Alastor laughed a bit himself, gently pushing zestials finger away from the child face before exiting the elevator. Had he truly been that tamed by you?

"Alastor, zestial-" Carmilla pinched the bridge of her nose, staring at the board at the end of the room with her back turned on them. Ready to yell at the two men before she turned around and just stood there. Staring at Alastor.

"Is that a fucking child?"

Alastor gently glared at the woman and covered Maria's ears. "Whoops." Rosie jumped up from her seat and ran towards the two. Smile as bright as ever as Alastor let her take the baby. "Oh, there's my goddaughter! Hi Maria! It's anti-Rosie!" Maria giggled a little bit and grabbed Rosie's hat. Alastor stretched a bit at the loss of weight in his arms. "Alastor where did you..get this child." Alastor deadpanned, gently taking Maria back from Rosie and ignoring the woman pleads to keep holding her. "She's mine, technically. Now- Maria here will be attending today's meeting." Rosie snickered, returning to her seat with Alastor. "Okay then..." The room shifted their gazes over to the doors, three voices laughing about how stupid the meetings were booming throughout the room now as the vees entered the little room.

"You five are late. I expected better than you. Including you, zestial." the old man just chuckled and nodded. The vees seated themselves without a care in the world.

Carmilla pinched the bridge of her nose. "Now, we are all here because-" Valentino raised his hand like a child, his eyes on Alastor who had a baby in his grasp. Carmilla groaned loudly. "What, Valentino?" "Why does Alastor have a child?" Vox glitched a bit, looking at the red demon who seemed completely unphased as the baby girl started to play with his ears. "Okay let's get the elephant out of the room already!" Carmilla stood up, pointing to Alastor and Maria. "The radio demon we all have known to be an asshole now has a baby. Alastor is now 'dating' a woman who has a child and she is not well so he brought her here. Any objections?" "Should we trust that fossil with a baby?" Velvette giggled a bit, raising her hand as well as rosie and alastor glared at her. "I ask you don't swear in her presence. Her mother would kill me" Alastor quickly added on. Vox gawking at the display. "So- you got someone to sleep with you?" Alastor shook his head no. "No! Of course not, i do not with for such....nasty activities. Just dating her mother. Isn't that right maria." "Carmilla, would you mind holding her?" She nodded as alastor handed the baby to her, a small sigh leaving his mouth as he fixed his suit. Looking over to see the baby being passed around. His static screeched to a halt. As soon as the baby got to vox, who was holding her normally. She started to cry. Everyone silent in the room as the baby was passed on to velvette. Who was surprisingly good with calming her down. As soon as she got to valentino tho he didn't know what to do, grimacing as he held the child up like simba. Alastor quickly took the baby and glared at valentino, holding her tight. "Now may we start the meeting? Thank you.”

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin art #soft alastor #zestial #carmilla carmine #Alastor with a baby

[dewdropdinosaur]

Flush Little Baby, Don't You Cry

ALASTOR x READER

Summary: Alastor thinks your permanent blush is cute, similar to Charlie's even. But what if you aren't actually blushing at all his advances?

Warnings: Small mention of scars, allusions to death. Rating: PG

For the always lovely @anon-of-the-void Ask and you shall receive my dear!! Requests are still open - see pinned post for details!

In the chaotic space of the Hazbin Hotel, where demons sought redemption amidst the swirling chaos of Hell, an unexpected connection began to blossom between Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, and you, a newcomer to the hotel's staff as a receptionist.(To which Husk was greatly pleased that now he could just focus on bartending and not deal with as many ‘idiots’)

Alastor, with his charismatic demeanor and macabre sense of humor, found himself strangely drawn to your presence. You were different from the other inhabitants of the hotel, having a quiet demeanor and gentle nature standing out amidst the cacophony of voices and chaos. However, neither of you had dared to voice romantic interest, both of you unsure of the other's feelings and your own.

It was during one of your chance encounters early on in the hotel's grand foyer that Alastor noticed something peculiar about you. Little red circles adorned your cheeks, slightly tinted whenever you smiled or laughed. Even when, and especially when, frightened - they glowed slightly. Alastor found himself captivated by this. At first, he dismissed those little circles as mere blush or simple state of your demon form similar to Charlie or Nifty, finding them endearing in their resemblance to the delicate flush that adorned his mother's face in his long-forgotten memories of his mortal life.To him, it was endearing, a subtle charm that only added to your allure and reminded him of a simpler time in his life that brought him a sense of peace and familiarity. 

Because of this assumption, Alastor's fondness for you only grew, his interest piqued by the circle's presence. He found himself seeking out your company more often, engaging in lively conversations and sharing moments of laughter amidst the chaos of the hotel, just to see the cute flush of your rosy cheeks every time. The revelation ignited a fierce protectiveness within Alastor, a primal instinct to shield you from any harm that might befall you. He watched over you like a silent guardian, his presence a comforting shadow in the tumultuous world of the hotel.

However, his actions did not go unnoticed by the other inhabitants of the hotel, who watched with a mixture of amusement and bemusement as the usually aloof Radio Demon became fiercely protective of their new receptionist. Some whispered behind closed doors, speculating on the nature of your relationship, while others simply shook their heads in amusement at Alastor's unexpected display of strange affection.

As the days passed, you too began to notice Alastor's increased vigilance and protective nature. Sensing his concern, you decided it was time to address the elephant in the room. One evening, as the chaos of the hotel ebbed into a rare moment of tranquility, you found yourself alone with Alastor in his radio room, a perk that only you and Nifty enjoyed. It was a cozy tower despite its menacing metal exterior, with cozy chairs and vintage curtains. A lot like Alastor in a way, scary on the outside and maybe even the inside but something sweet and old was there too. 

Taking a deep breath and mustering the courage to broach the subject that had been weighing on your mind, you spoke. 

"Alastor," You began softly, voice barely above a whisper, "I noticed you've been... different around me lately. And I think it's because of these." With a hesitant hand, you gestured to the crimson circles on your cheeks that had remained beneath layers of uncertainty and shame.  In your time in Hell, many had found out about the circles on your cheeks. And had left you for them. So you were worried about approaching Alastor on this subject to say the least. 

Alastor turned his attention towards you, his crimson eyes softening with concern. "I assure you, my dear, it's merely a demon's instinct to protect those they care about."

You nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips at his veiled confession. You would note that for later. "I appreciate it, truly. But there's something I need to tell you."

With a gentle touch, you traced your fingertips along the scared cheeks, gaze meeting Alastor's unwavering stare. "These marks... they're not from blushing or simply a part of my demon state…. They're scars – reminders of a past I'd rather forget."

Alastor's expression shifted from curiosity to empathy as he listened to this confession. Suddenly it all clicked in his head. The way you would flinch when anyone would get too close too quickly, loud noises sparked the tint of the scars to glow, and how the scars moved with each expression you made. They stayed on your face 24/7 but didn’t shrink or expand like Charlie’s with each new expression. Instead they stayed stagnant and were less of circles and more oval shaped. Definitely not a blush or demon feature now that he had a closer look. 

In fact, that cute little blush that he adored so much didn't happen within the circular scars on your face but around them. How had he been so blind? His shadows would mock him later for this.

"I see," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Mhmm, yet they do nothing but add to your fierce beauty my dear."

You felt a wave of relief wash over you as you met Alastor's understanding gaze. In that moment, both of you realized that despite the literal and metaphorical scars that haunted their pasts, they had found solace and understanding in each other's presence.  

He reached out to gently cup your cheek, his touch surprisingly tender despite his fearsome reputation. And this time, you didn’t flinch away but instead leaned into his embrace. It felt warm and comforting and he smelled like holiday cinnamon whiskey and pine. (Which my dear, as your sassy narrator I think sounds/smells like an Old Spice commercial but this is Hell and Alastor has no idea what that brand is)  

And as you both sat together in the quiet sanctuary of Alastor's radio room, surrounded by the faint crackle of static and the soft hum of his radio, you knew that you had found a confidant in the enigmatic Radio Demon – someone who accepted your scars, both seen and unseen, and vowed to stand side to side with you no matter what trials lay ahead.

Maybe that half hearted confession Alastor made had some truth to it and maybe your confession was right around the corner too. 

#romance #hazbin hotel fandom #alastor the radio demon #answered #vizziepop #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #radio killed the video star #request #alastor x reader #alastors mom #alastors radioshow #alastor imagine #human alastor #charlie morningstar #nifty hazbin hotel #hazbin nifty #fluff #healing journey #friends to lovers #pining #alastor fluff #alastor x you

[antianakin]

No Order 66 AU where Anakin leaves the Order after the war ends and he and Padme end up retiring to Naboo to try to raise the twins together, but neither of them ends up feeling particularly satisfied with life on Naboo (for Anakin it just doesn't give him any purpose the way he desperately needs and for Padme it's always been this perfect rosy dream and reality doesn't measure up), so they end up leaving the twins behind a lot so they can pursue other things and are pretty absentee parents in general. They mostly end up getting raised by Padme's parents instead, and while they're perfectly good guardians for the twins and raise them kindly and love them a lot, there's always an obvious elephant in the room regarding who ISN'T there.

This causes a bit of a rift between Luke and Leia because while Luke is trying to keep the peace and give their parents the benefit of the doubt as he moves on and figures out his own life with what he DOES have, Leia is less willing to just forgive and forget.

Luke ends up becoming a pilot working for the royal palace for a while, but Leia goes into politics (something she'd entered while younger because it's what her mother did and she'd been hoping it would get Padme's attention and bring the two of them closer; it didn't work out that way at all and now Leia's sticking with it at least partly to spite Padme) as an aide for her cousin Pooja who is now Senator of Naboo.

And it's here, once she finally makes it to Coruscant and starts working in the Senate, that Leia meets Bail Organa, still working as Senator of Alderaan. The two of them click IMMEDIATELY and Bail ends up becoming Leia's mentor in politics, as well as the person who actually introduces her to the Jedi themselves. Anakin and Padme had never really bothered to do so, both because they were so rarely around, but also because they had chosen not to give Luke and Leia to the Temple and decided at that point that it would be easier to keep the twins and the Jedi separate. Bail of course has no such compunctions and even if he knew about Anakin and Padme's feelings on the matter, I imagine he'd find ways to allow Leia to accidentally bump into some of the Jedi while she was on Coruscant. If he just so happens to double book himself for lunch with both Leia and Obi-Wan, it's hardly anything malicious and they may as well all eat together!

Leia finally feels like she has a parent who gives a damn about her, someone who acts like a parent to her, the parent she's always wanted. Her grandparents had always been incredibly kind and they obviously had to do a lot of parenting, but they'd always been very strict about making sure the twins saw them as GRANDPARENTS and not their actual parents, which just make the absence of their parents that much more obvious and painful. But with Bail, she's finally got someone who doesn't care that Anakin and Padme aren't there and doesn't feel the need to create a wall between them for Anakin and Padme's sake. Bail takes her under his wing, teaches her everything she knows, allows her to explore things she'd never been allowed to explore before, connects her to even more people who can help her understand herself better than she's ever been able to before. THIS is what a parent was supposed to do for her and she knows it, THIS is what selfless love looks like from a parent and she THRIVES under it for the first time in her life.

She eventually decides not to stay on as Pooja's aide because she has no real desire to become a senator for Naboo at any point, but she IS good at politics and desperately does want to help people any way she can, so she starts up some sort of organization of her own to help people around the galaxy (and connects it to the Jedi because deep down she KNOWS she was supposed to be one of them even though that path is now closed to her). But she doesn't go back to Naboo, she doesn't make her home on her mother's home planet.

She goes to Alderaan instead. And this time, she gets to stay there for the rest of her life.

#star wars #leia organa #bail organa #bail can't adopt her officially but damn if he isn't going to do it UNOFFICIALLY #bail isn't force sensitive but he sees this girl enter the senate dome and immediately feels a connection #and he's familiar enough with the jedi now to know that he shouldn't ignore those feelings #what is it that leia's organization actually does? i have no idea #i imagine she has some level of inherited wealth through padme and the naberries she can access #as well as connections to the royal family of alderaan and everyone else she befriended at the senate #so she has the resources and connections to do basically whatever she wants to do #she gets aid where it needs to go #leia will be an organa in EVERY scenario explicitly because she will always CHOOSE to be an organa over a skywalker or a naberrie #anakin critical #anakin skywalker critical #anti anakin #anti anakin skywalker #padme critical #padme amidala critical #anidala critical #leia naberrie organa au

[throwbacktears]

people on here really don't like re-contextualizing midnights as a breakup album but. with "hits different", with the news of their breakup, and now finally "youre losing me", it just. it makes so much sense as a break-up album. and even if we didnt consider it as one at the time, i dont think there's anything wrong with coming to see it as one now. looking at it at all at face value, it just makes sense. even if some people might not want to hear that.

taylor has always said midnights is an album about choices - the ones we treasure, the ones we regret, the ones we mull over until the early morning.

lavender haze, given all that we now know, was clearly about taylor trying to keep her head in the clouds -- blissful ignorance -- a la "lavendar haze" -- when its apprarent theres a big elephant in the room. i always found it interesting that whenever she referred to her and joe's relationship, she fixated a lot on when they first got together, and he was there for her when no one else was. its almost like that was her anchor and justification to stay with him anyway, despite the (now-implied) emotional neglect that was actually going on, despite the multiple breaks they've supposedly have had to take over the course of their relationship. she just wants to stay in that time period where everything was perfect, when everything was still rosy, in that "lavendar haze".

bejeweled -- the idea that, even though someone wants to keep her a secret, and dim her light in the process, it wont stop her from shining, and she cant help it. and if theyre not willing to let her shine, something has got to give. the idea of her being kept to the basement, by this person, when she just wants "the penthouse of your heart".

the same themes in bejeweled of doing all the extra credit, just to get graded on a curve, to youre losing me, where "i give all my best me's, my endless empathy, and all i did was bleed"

maybe calling midnights a breakup album is too reductive, since not all the songs refer to her and joe's relationship, and thus not every song is a breakup song. but to call midnights anything other than, at the very least, a melancholic, relationships-on-the-rocks (re: theme of staying up until midnight over decisions), break-up adjacent album, where its clear something has got to give, despite the good that they had - especially given the context we have now - is amiss.

like the wisdom that comes with looking back at her re-recordings with new eyes and revisiting those times knowing what she knows now, she also uses the theme of midnights to ponder her then-current problems. such as: do i have to lose the person that i love most, because nothing they are doing, and everything they have been doing, is not enough anymore?

#taylor swift #midnights #youre losing me #hits different #bejeweled #mytext #i fixed the typos

[loremori]

Martin Freeman (58/366)

Sherlock 2010–2017

Writer & Creator Mark Gatiss Steven Moffat

*Modernized version of the Conan Doyle characters.

T4.E2 The Lying Detective (2017) Directed Nick Hurran T4.E3 The Final Problem (2017) Directed Benjamin Caron

We need to talk about the elephant in the room. I really hate the last episode of the series. Secret sister? Were Gatiss and Moffat possessed by Marlene King when they wrote the script? Nothing against Sian Brooke, she is a magnificent actress. So if I have to choose an ending it will be the end of the previous chapter. I wish the hug had nothing to do with 'the cheating' part. Only two men finally lower their barriers and try to seek solace for a completely avoidable death. Understand my point: JW failed to protect his wife, attacked his (only) friend, is not able to take care of his daughter, resorts to alcohol, hallucinates his dead wife, and has suicidal thoughts. Was it necessary to also fail in his marriage, when Mary was still alive? I think it's too much for one man. So... They go to celebrate SH's birthday and months later, JW and Rosie, return to 221b Baker Street. End.

**Of course, the cherry on top would be an explicit johnlock's end.

#martin freeman #bbc sherlock #sherlock #john watson #sherlock holmes #benedict cumberbatch #The Lying Detective #The Final Problem #Don't get me started on the granny with a hidden gun #It's not okay

[softspeirs]

The Major and the Nurse (3): Rosie Rosenthal x OC

A/N: I just can’t stop myself from imagining what it was like after the first mission for the Riveters when they get back from the flak house. So here we are. Our friend Grace Fleming is back. This technically takes place after this fic, but you can read them separately from each other.

three - don't break my heart (no promises).

He’s standing outside the officer’s hut, wondering what he’s supposed to do now. He doesn’t want to go inside.

Today’s mission went well, but it doesn’t change the mood that’s hovered over him since his forced break the week before.

He had hesitated at the hatch, that morning. His fingers drumming out a rhythm on the plane, he had shut his eyes, and had to force himself inside.

Hand on his hips, he shakes his head, frustrated with his inability to control his emotions and do his job.

That’s where she finds him.

“Captain Rosenthal?” Her voice cuts through the white noise in his head, jolts him back to the present. He shuts his eyes for a half second, making sure that when he faces her again, his smile is present and accounted for.

He is happy to see her; he doesn’t have to pretend, not really.

“Lieutenant Fleming. Heading home?”

The women’s huts aren’t anywhere near here. He knows that. Knows it means she’s gone out of her way to seek him out, and while that would normally make him grin and arch a playful eyebrow at her until she blushes in that way he’s learning he really enjoys, he can’t find it in him this evening.

She tilts her head. “No. Can’t sleep.”

“The matron’s gonna have your head.”

Can she hear it, he wonders? The way he’s fighting with his own voice not to crack, the way he’s desperately trying to have a casual conversation despite the fact that he knows why she’s here?

She rolls her eyes, takes a step closer to him. “She’s all bark, no bite. Besides, she wouldn't mind that I'm checking on you. Not after--" She stops herself.

It lands between them like an anvil, the elephant in the room they’re both trying to pretend isn’t there.

“You don’t have to check on me.” He says after a few minutes.

“I know. Still wanted to.”

His breath catches in his throat at the sincerity in her voice. Whatever this is between the two of them, he’s both terrified to let her in and fighting the urge to close the distance between them every second they spend together.

It’s just — the last two weeks have been absolute hell, and what kind of ending is he writing for her by letting this thing between them happen? If he gives in to their easy conversation, her gentle smiles and kind eyes… what sort of fate does that leave her with? Another day watching a plane not come back? How could he do that to her?

And that's assuming he's not imagining all the little moments that have stacked up since he got to Thorpe Abbotts - the softly exchanged words, the smiles and the reassurances, the way he can't take his eyes off her when she's in the same room.

“I can hear the gears turning up there.” She says softly. “Are you... are you okay, Rosie?"

He nods. "I'll be fine. It was just tough, getting back in the saddle today. But I'm fine."

“Captain—“

“And I really, really don’t want to talk about it. Please, Grace. I can’t… I have to just go to sleep, put today out of my mind, and try to figure out how the hell I’m going to do this again tomorrow.” Her name escapes him without his permission.

Her eyes widen slightly, but then the look on her face changes. It seems to say two can play this game. “Robert.” She says firmly, eyes narrowing. Something in his chest tightens at the sound of his name in her mouth. “If you keep everything inside, you’re going to break down eventually.”

He knows she’s right, but there’s a part of him itching for a fight. “You don’t understand what it’s like up there, Lieutenant.”

She flinches a little at his tone. He feels guilty for a split second, but he can’t stop himself.

“I never thought twice about doing my job until I got sent away, and I know everyone thinks it was for our own good, but that's not the way I like to do things. I don't like things being left unfinished."

Her gaze is pensive, thoughtful. "It makes sense that you're angry."

“You’re damned right I’m angry. I’m not supposed to be one of the only pilots here. We aren’t supposed to be the only original crews left. But I don't want to sit around and talk about it. If I talk about it, I won’t be able to get back in the plane the next time, and there isn’t anyone left, Grace.” He’s heaving great, shaky breaths by the time he’s finished. He can’t look at her.

“Do you feel better now?” Her voice is surprisingly calm. He expects her to get angry with him right back, or to get upset. He expects her to walk away from him, like he knows she should.

He doesn’t expect her hand, a light touch on his arm. “You’re right, Captain.” She says. “I don’t know what it’s like up there. I don’t know what you’re feeling now and I’ll never be able to fully understand. But those were my friends too, and you're not the only one trying to put before out of your mind.”

He looks up, sees a unique type of hurt in her eyes. Remembers the cackle of Bucky Egan’s laughter at a dry comment she makes to him while he sits on the edge of the table in the pub, letting her worry over a still-too-red cut above his eye.

Remembers her crouching down to ruffle Meatball’s fur, rolling her eyes at DeMarco as he brags about what a good copilot the dog is.

“And I know you have to bury some of it so you can get back in the plane,” she continues, taking a step even closer. “But just promise me that when you do need to talk, you’ll talk to someone. Even if it isn’t me. Because if you don’t, if it gets to you… you might make a mistake up there.”

He opens his mouth automatically to contradict her, but she reaches out to straighten the knot of his scarf before he can speak, continuing, “And if one day that plane doesn’t come back… well, that would well and truly break my heart, Rosie.”

His heart begins to beat again at the combination of her words, her proximity, and the feeling of her hands, her hands that save lives and are so sure and confident, lingering there on his chest.

He’s sure she can feel the rapid pounding of his heart beneath his flight suit.

“I won’t break your heart, Grace.” He says. His voice is like gravel.

He doesn’t promise. She doesn’t ask him to. They both know it’s impossible.

#this is whew angsty #i didn’t mean it!!! #but also i kind of did #rosie rosenthal x oc #softspeirs mota fanfiction #masters of the air fanfiction #mota fanfic #masters of the air fanfic #oc: grace fleming

[66sharkteeth]

I completely forgot to pick back up these sort of "weekly thoughts" I have about each episode! But I have a lot of thoughts about last night's episode that reminded me to pick these back up. I still don't know how much people enjoy these, but I figure nobody hates them and I'm trying to post more things for my own enjoyment lately.

Anyway... I guess I'll start with the elephant in the room- Yes, this episode is definitely queer coded. I see a lot of people calling it a trans allegory and while I don't personally know if I'm brave enough to say that's what it was outright... I did basically write Rosie to say what I want to hear from my own family some day. I don't come from a family of biggots to be clear. I'm fortunate in the sense that I don't risk ever being disowned if I were honest about my identity. But... I am all too familiar with the sentiment I wrote Luis to have when I just try to use my friends' correct pronouns.

I don't know if I can ever tell them they're actually mocking me too when they make these comments. And like Desmond, I also don't know if I can ever tell them I don't view myself as "their little girl" anymore (Er- Not that Desmond ever viewed himself as a little girl LOL. I hope my point is getting across though). And the guilt I feel about taking that away from them definitely stops me from further exploring and accepting some things. I'm probably getting way too personal here, but this was a very personal episode.

I saw some comments about how Desmond's own self-loathing for his blank identity has been why a lot of (unfortunate) things have happened in this story and I'm SO glad some people are starting to catch onto that. Desmond has always stood for the blanks that hate themselves more than humans do, much for the reasons I explained above. He took Rosie's brother away and that's something he's hid from her for a long time. But now that Rosie has given him the reassurance that she still loves him the same, Desmond can hopefully begin to swallow his self-loathing and love and accept what he is. He's not Reese anymore, but he still has Reese's heart, and that's all Rosie cares about. ...As long as Rosie stays alive and well haha. You guys seem really determined I'm gonna do something bad to her.

Lastly, shout out to everyone who noticed Shnee was running late for puppy school.

#weekly thoughts #desmond #rosie #luis #shnee #city of blank

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Five Fics Friday: January 19/24

Happy Friday, everyone!! It's time for my weekly collection of fics to give you guys something awesome to start off your weekend! Make sure to give these fics some love, and then come back on Sunday for a new list! Enjoy!!

RECENT MFLs

Non-Toxic by NinjaNina2 (M, 1,713 w., 1 Ch. || Established Relationship, Misunderstandings, Doctor John, Parentlock, Fluff and Humour, Stubborn Sherlock, Worried John) – Based on previous experiences, John has every right to be worried when gone for a medical conference, but what is the extent of damage This time…?!?

(Rosie's) Elephant in the Room by topsyturvy_turtely (T, 4,513 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Parenthood, Rosie is in this Fic, Plushie, Idiots in Love, Fluff and Angst, Domesticity, Pining, Co-Parenting, Love Confessions, Friends to Lovers, Flirting, First Kiss) – John Watson loves Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock Holmes loves John Watson. John Watson’s daughter loves her giant elephant plushie. This is the story how the two men finally jump over their shadows and confess their feelings. All because of an elephant plushie.

Under the Waves by johnwatso (M, 8,245 w., 7 Ch. || Suicide Attempt, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, Angst with Happy Ending) – Sherlock finally makes the decision to end his life. John helps with the fallout.

The Losing Side by Calais_Reno (T, 8,731+ w., 3/9 Ch. || WiP || TRF-Divergence, TEH Fix It, First Kiss, Regrets, Love Confessions, POV Sherlock, Clever John, Angst with Happy Ending) – What if Sherlock planned to fake his suicide, but John figured it out before he met Moriarty on the roof? What if Sherlock refused John's offer to go with him? And what if John did something so inexplicable that Sherlock couldn't stop thinking about it for two years?

Time in a Bottle by DiscordantWords (M, 18,413+ w., 5/6 Ch. || Magical Realism AU || WiP || Djinni / Genies, Time Travel, Temporary Character Death, Mutual Pining, Messy John / Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Heavy Angst With Happy Ending) – This is a story of seven wishes. One wasted wish, five wishes that changed the world, and one wish that changed nothing at all.

#five fics friday #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs

[raina-at]

Bu the Blue

When Sherlock opens the door to 221B, he finds the Watsons in a highly uncharacteristic state of agitation. The sitting room looks like a tsunami hit it, and while this is not in and of itself unusual (John always says Sherlock and Rosie together equal a mid-sized hurricane), normally Rosie achieves that chaos while happily playing, but she’s sitting in the midst of the chaos and crying her eyes out. John’s tossing things around the room, obviously frantically searching for something.

When he spies Sherlock, he immediately stops. “Thank Christ you’re home!!” he exclaims, walking over to Sherlock and all but collapsing against him.

“What happened?” Sherlock asks, catching his distraught husband in his arms, while Rosie runs towards him, still crying, and hugs his legs.

“Bu’s gone, Papa, you have to help us!” Rosie yells, holding on to his legs for dear life and wiping her tear-and-snot-streaked face on his coat. 

Oh no, Sherlock thinks. Bu is Rosie’s favourite stuffed animal, a ratty old blue elephant of apparently German origin. She’s had him since she was eighteen months old. John loves to tell the story how she ‘rescued’ him out of a department store toy bin, a bit moth-eaten and slightly disgusting, but she fell in love with him immediately and the saleswomen there were so enamoured of her that they let her keep him. She called him Bu because that was the nearest she came to the word blue at eighteen months and the name stuck. 

“I’ve been looking everywhere,” John adds, gesturing at the sitting room. “He’s not here, not upstairs, or in our room, or at Mrs Hudson’s.”

Sherlock scoops up Rosie and hands her a tissue. “Calm down, Watson, we’ll find him.”

“But, Papa, he’s out there all alone!” Rosie wails.

Sherlock decides it’s time to take charge. He strides into the flat, sets Rosie down into the client chair, gestures for John to sit in his chair, and takes his own place to complete the triangle.

“From the beginning, please. When did you first notice he was missing?”

“When we got to the flat and unpacked the groceries,” John answers.

“And you’re sure you had him when you left daycare?” Sherlock asks Rosie, steeping his fingers under his chin in his classic thinking pose. 

Rosie nods. She’s calmed down considerably, and she’s now sitting up straighter, obviously proud of being treated like a client. 

“Where did you go, Waitrose or Tesco?” Sherlock continues the interrogation.

“Tesco,” Rosie answers. “But I’m sure I had him when we left, I was feeding him a banana.”

“Well, then the answer is obvious. He’s at Speedy’s.”

John and Rosie stare at him, surprised. “How did you know we went to Speedy’s?” Rosie asks, obviously awed.

“Easy. There’s a cocoa stain on your dress, and Daddy’s breath smells of coffee. He never has coffee unless it’s from Speedy’s. You went in to pick up some cupcakes to have after dinner to celebrate my coming home from Glasgow today. You sat down, had a bit of a chat with Mr Chatterjee and left Bu lying on the chair next to you. And if I’m not completely mistaken,” he adds as he walks to the door, “That’s Mr Chatterjee now, hurrying up the stairs with Bu.”

He opens the door, and indeed, there’s Mr Chatterjee, looking surprised, with his hand in the air as if he was about to knock on the door to 221B. His other hand is holding Bu. 

Rosie squeals and runs towards Mr Chatterjee, who hands her the toy and accepts her enthusiastic thanks.

“Brilliant!” 

Sherlock turns around and makes a face at John. “Elementary.”

“Thank you, Papa!” Rosie yells, throwing herself in Sherlock’s arms.

“It was nothing, Watson.”

“You’re a genius, Papa! I’m going to tell all of my friends how you found Bu tomorrow. Now they’ll know who to come to when they lose their toys!”

John grins. “Tell them Papa likes to be paid in ice lollies. Now go wash your face, love, you look all splotchy.”

Rosie runs off, dragging Bu behind her.

Sherlock sags into his chair, suddenly exhausted.

“This one’s going on the blog,” John says as he starts straightening the sitting room. 

“Don’t you dare. It’s bad enough that her entire daycare class will now require me to find their sorry belongings. Also, I’ve been home almost fifteen minutes and I’ve yet to get a kiss.”

“Sorry, how absolutely horrid of me,” John says, leaning down for a kiss. “Welcome home, love.”

“Additionally,” Sherlock says, pulling John into his lap, “I don’t accept ice lollies as payment. Ginger nuts or nothing.”

John laughs. “All out of ginger nuts, I’m afraid.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll work out an alternative payment plan for you,” Sherlock mutters before pulling John in for a proper welcome home kiss.

“Daddy! Papa! Gross!” Rosie yells as she re-enters the room.

John rolls his eyes. “Yes, yes, I know, your parents love each other. Disgusting.” He pecks Sherlock on the lips once more, and Sherlock lets him go reluctantly. “Now let’s see about dinner.”

Sherlock watches the two Watsons bicker good-naturedly about what to make for dinner as he sinks back into his chair and breathes. 

It’s good to be home. 

A bit of parentlock fluff to recover from the angst of yesterday. Did I model the story of how Rosie got Bu after how my son got one of his most beloved stuffed animals? Yes I did.

Also, this one's for the German-speaking world out there, because Bu is, of course, the elephant from Die Sendung mit der Maus.

Here's a picture:

This was written for the May prompts by @notjustamumj, today's prompt was Blue.

I'm tagging the German-speaking crowd I know of, @khorazir @meetinginsamarra @catlock-holmes @the-reading-lemon (i think) (I hope I didn't forget anyone).

And a few non-German speakers as well. Do you have The Mouse outside of Germany and Austria?

@helloliriels @calaisreno @keirgreeneyes @jrow @fluffbyday-smutbynight @peanitbear

#johnlock #bbc sherlock #johnlock fic #my fic #tooth-rotting fluff #parentlock #notjustamom may prompts #blue

[claireelizabeth85]

Come Home To Me - John's Letter

John Egan x OC Female!Reader

Summary: This is John's letter that Lizzy finds in her trunk during episode 3, which can be read here.

Warnings: angst, heartache, mentions of loss and death if you squint.

This fiction is based on the characters of the TV series Masters of the Air. In no way are any of the characters mentioned on the real men of the 100th BG.

This letter is posted as part of @steph-speaks "sincerely yours" letter challenge. I have to say a huge thank you to @instructionsnotincluded for giving this a once over.

My Darling Lizzy…

I never thought I'd be the one who has to write one of these letters. I always thought you'd be here waiting for me. Leaning against the Jeep wearing my sunglasses and jacket, ready to give me shit about keeping you waiting. But I knew the moment I landed something just wasn't quite right. Crosby wouldn't look me in the eye, and the waiting...that was the worst part. No one would tell me anything. It was like the elephant in the room that everyone was doing their best to ignore. I had no idea whether you had been drafted or if you'd found someone a whole lot better than me cos let's be honest, that ain't hard.

I eventually got Rosie to tell me what happened. I had been hounding him all day and finally cornered him in the officer’s club. I was there with Buck and Crosby. Rosie told us what happened and how you hung on long enough so that he could bail out close enough to the Russians. He made it back, he's a bit busted up but he’s doing okay. Said that your last thoughts were of me and how you're sorry that you were doing stupid shit. He wouldn't tell me what happened at the end but said I just had to remember you as you were.

Jesus Lizzy, why? Why would you do that? Why would you go and put yourself in harm's way?

I know you didn't need to go, Rosie and Bennet both said you could have stood this one out but you had to prove yourself when there was nothing left for you to prove!!! I told you not to do stupid shit!! Yeah yeah, I know you don't like being told what to do, but the idea of you getting yourself hurt, of you being on your own in that fortress, I just…it kills me, Liz.

On a happier note, do you know what day it is today, sweetheart? It's the last day of May. The wildflowers are taking over at the back of the airfield. You know the one, where we took that red blanket and went to read in the sunshine. I took a long walk out there the other day to try and clear my head. Buck wanted to come out there with me. I think he’s worried but that field, that place, was just for us and whilst I love that guy I don't need him out there with me when I want to think about you. The walk was a bust because all I could think about was how much I missed you. I'm not ashamed to say it, not to you, but I cried. I cried so dam hard.

Do you remember the little tiny village church that we found on the way back from London? Well, you can get to it from the other side of the field. I laughed when I remembered how I wanted to marry you right there and then, no witnesses but me and you and the reverend? But you said no, said that you couldn't bear the idea of being married and me never coming back. You said you would marry me after the war was over and that no matter how long that took you would be mine.

Today should have been our wedding day, Lizzy. The war is over, the goons are gone and I should have been walking down the aisle with you by my side! I wish I had carried you in there laughing and shouting against my shoulder. At least then I could say you are - were my wife.

The very thought of you waiting for me kept me going in that hell - but I knew the moment that I looked at Buck, the look on his face told me you were really gone.

I love you, Elizabeth Egan. Got a nice ring to it doesn't it? I know this will be the only place that it's ever written down but that's how I'm gonna think of you every day for the rest of my life….as my wife. My brave, stubborn, courageous, beautiful, whiskey-drinking wife.

Buck and I are flying back home soon and Cros, well he gave me your trunk. Can I be honest Lizzy? I don't know if I can bring you back with me. If I do, then I have to accept that you're gone. Will you forgive me my darling, my beautiful English daisy, if I leave you and my heart here in England?

I loved you from the minute we met. I didn't know it, not until you took DeMarco's place and got hurt. I should have told you then that I loved you. Told Matron to go to hell and should have kissed you there and then. I should have told every single person who would listen. I know I'll never feel anything like this again and no matter how long I have to wait to see you, I will always love you.

Always yours Lizzy, no matter where I am.

Always yours.

John

#sincerelyyoursficchallenge #John Egan x Lizzy Waterfield #Mota #Masters of the air #Major John Egan #Major Gale Cleven #Major Harry Crosby #Major Robert “Rosie” Rosenthal. #masters of the air fic

[topsyturvy-turtely]

20 questions for fic writers

thank you for tagging me @gregorovitchworld! 💚

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

13 🙃

2. what's your current ao3 word count?

73.611 (not that bad i guess but i wish it was more)

3. what fandoms do you write for?

only bbc sherlock for now but i am thinking of writing for good omens too :)

4. top five fics by kudos?

-> Rosie's Elephant in the Room

-> Human Urges

-> JOHNLOCKed in a Closet

-> Let Me Fix You

-> Halloween

5. do you respond to comments? why or why not?

yes! i respond to every single one (unless it is only an emoji... but even then i do it most of the time)

why? because i fucking LOVE connecting with my readers! and i wanna make them keep commenting on fics. because comments are so fucking important!!! they are what keep us writers going!

6. what's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

aaah probably Missing (but that will be happy again!)

so in the end it is THE LONELIEST

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

JOHNLOCKed in a Closet, i'd say

8. do you receive hate?

thank goodness i don't!

9. do you write smut?

nope. i write some subtle sex scenes, but never long ones or intensely described. i just don't feel comfortable with it.

10. do you write crossovers?

nope. seems too complicated to me 😂 i don't really read them either so ig i don't have the urge to write them. ooh, wait i wrote a short freebatch/star wars/johnlock kind of crossover once. prompt: "geeking out over something" (day 14 of my otp challenge! that i might have ignored for about a year now... whoopsie)

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

3 times that i know of. novelhd dot com is a bitch. they stole JOHNLOCKed in a Closet (JLiaC), Strawberries and Cigarettes (S&C), and my oneshots on wattpad. it is fucking heartbreaking and really made me lose some trust in humanity as well as my motivation to write for a long time... DO NOT STEAL FICS!

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

no, because i don't feel comfortable with it. probably because of the shit that happened to me described above.

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

nope, but i would be up for the challenge:)

14. what is your all-time favorite ship?

the answer is obviously johnlock lol.

15. a wip you doubt you will ever finish?

all my wips. no idk. i've got lot of wips and i will never completely give up on them. maybe just forget them, haha.

16. writing strengths?

writing about feelings, dialogue, inner monologues, two-person interactions

17. writing weaknesses?

well, smut lol. writing long intense plots (i am a fluff writer xD) - but i hope to get better at it. i have big hopes for Missing.

18. will you write a dialogue in another language?

never say never! but only after i have checked up with someone who speaks/knows said language well!

19. what was your first fandom?

*sigh* bbc sherlock, my babes. ;)

20. what's your favorite fic you have ever written?

first thought of day 9: hugging of my otp challenge. it's an alternative ending to TLD. it's a bunch of big emotions, big words and and big moments. - ghost mary actually is one of the big reasons they finally get together!!!

tagging (if you have already been tagged, feel free to ignore this and/or tag me in the post you already answered those questions): @totallysilvergirl @lisbeth-kk @gaylilsherlock and man who else??? anyone! anyone who wants to join the fun!

#20 questions #20 questions for fic writers #johnlock #bbc sherlock #turtely

[theflyindutchwoman]

The UC storyline is something that has been looming over Tim & Lucy for a while now. So it's passed time that we deal with this conflict. And with Tim being confronted by both his past (with Isabel) and his present/future (with Lucy confiding about her fears for him), we are finally getting to the elephant in the room. Because Tim can no longer stay in denial about this. And because Lucy is getting at a crossroad where she has to make a decision regarding her future in UC. And this is what I want to discuss about… to try to see things from her perspective.

Because that's the thing : she loves going undercover. We might not understand why, but she does. And this - finding a career that she loves - is something she has been struggling for years. She said so herself, she has tried many things before. She loves being a cop, particularly going undercover and now that she knows that, it's understandable that she is going to want to hold on to it. And not only does she love it… She's also really good at it! To the point that she is getting noticed. UC is the first (and only) division that went to actively seek her out and try to recruit her. Add to that layer her relationship with her parents, who have been trying to discourage her in the past, and it's not that hard to understand how good it must feel for her to finally find something she loves and to be encouraged to pursue. And that's where she keeps receiving mixed messages.

Because yes, she saw how UC could go wrong and destroy lives. Isabel, Nyla, Mack… She saw and heard the tales. And yet, her mentor is Nyla. Who always kept it real but has never tried to deter her either, whose very first advice was to simply be better than her. And Angela. We may not have seen it directly, but it is implied that she is encouraging her choice by helping her become a detective, despite seeing what happened with Isabel. And let's not forget Tim here. Who's probably her biggest supporter right now despite his own baggage. Who pushed her to go to UC school when she had reservations. Who told her they were worth the risk, knowing she was very well on her way of becoming an undercover agent. Even Tamara looked thrilled for her when she came back from Sacramento. So if all of these people, with all their bad experiences, keep believing in her and pushing her towards UC, why should she drop it?

But most importantly : she never dismissed these cautionary tales. At no point did she ever tried to imply she was better than them. She is simply trying to learn from them. Which incidentally, was the topic of Nyla's class, the one that Lucy was trying to listen discreetly. Let's take a look at her recent behaviour : according to Noah, she could have done more UC ops. Yet she hasn't. The second she had the chance to talk to Isabel alone, she immediately asked her about her own experience. These are the actions of someone who is being cautious and taking it all in before making a decision. She even acknowledged that she never experienced long missions which shows she has at least some self-awareness. She understands that she still doesn't fully know what this life would entail. It's one thing to hear it, it's another to live it. She's still at the beginning of her career, where everything is a bit rosy. She just needs to find her own way. I'm not really comfortable with the idea that she needs to be punished for her choice by getting hurt or getting someone seriously hurt. It's too close to the idea that women need to be punished or humbled for being ambitious and that's a big no from me. Besides, she has been hurt in the job before and she's still doing it. She simply needs to experience a longer mission, with its ups and downs, to see if she really likes it, if that can be compatible with what she wants in life. And not just experiencing the part of playing a different character this time. But also the separation, the anxiety, the lies and deception, leaving the people you love behind (from her real life… but also the ones she will get attached to from her UC life). This is after all how she found out her previous jobs/studies were not for her : by trying. The catch is she can only experience this by being a full-time undercover agent.

Which is why she opened the door for a conversation with Tim, by letting herself be vulnerable and sharing her fear with him : that her going undercover on long missions might be too much for him. There was no judgement on her part. She was merely trying to be honest and broaching the topic they've been avoiding so far. Because she knows that her actions will impact him. Unfortunately, he wasn't ready to open up just yet and shut that line of thought immediately. But she looked torn on that last scene... she knows he wasn't being honest with her.

And maybe Lucy is lying to herself... Maybe she only thinks she loves undercover because her missions so far have been "easy", with no consequences when her cover got burned. Maybe she feels obligated to follow through because the department believed in her and she doesn't want to let them down. Maybe she hasn't fully consider how it would impact her as well. Maybe. But if that's the case, it's even more imperative that she can talk about it with Tim. Lucy needs to talk things out to process things. And right now that line of communication is not open. Not completely at least. And while Nyla could be a good option, this is still something that she needs to solve with Tim. Especially if they want to build a life together. She needs to hear his feelings, just like he needs to hear hers. I understand that he is in a difficult position : the last thing he wants is to hold her back. But she still deserves to have all the facts. The onus on this does not rest solely on her shoulders.

And this is why I think it was important that they first solidified their relationship before facing their first hurdle. So that they can confront it together.

#This might be an unpopular opinion (and I know how polarising this topic is) #So those are my two cents - I just hope it's coherent enough #The rookie #Chenford #Lucy Chen #Character Study #Episode Tag #5.20

[inthewindandinthewater]

Day Glow

A/n: Oops, I wrote this instead of another chapter of A Plain of Stars, I'm sorry but I'm having a bit of a block right now. Anyway, in the mean time have this Drabble with old boy James. I thought it was cute, definitely a good piece to hopefully rebuild some confidence in myself and get back to writing the real stuff. Hope you enjoy.

(I listened to 'Oh My Love' by John Lennon and 'Here Comes Your Man' by The Pixies while writing this)

⋆⋆⋆☆✦☆☆✭☆☆✦☆☆✭☆☆✦☆⋆⋆⋆

Day Glow

The stunning glow that bathes a room in the early morning.

That’s what it felt like, if anyone asked you that’s what you’d say. First light. 

First light after a hot sticky night, one where your covers don’t lay right and you don’t find a comfortable place to set your arms. That soft morning glow accompanied by singing burns and long, languid stretches. The feeling of that first sip of water hitting your throat after not allowing yourself respite from the cottony feeling at the back of your pallet. Fresh clothes, a hot shower, a hairbrush. 

That’s what it felt like to fall in love with James, a breath of fresh air and the feeling of sun on your skin. He was bright and bursting with it, and all too happy to bathe you in the same incandescence. 

He never second guessed it, the pull he felt to you. He saw you that day; head hung low over a book, hair falling into your eyes as you fell deeper into the word on those ink soaked pages. Maybe it was the look in your eyes or the way the pale blue shirt you were wearing seemed to bring out all the right colors in you. It didn’t matter, he was taken with you and James was never one to let something go so easily. 

He was capable of learning, and as such took a gentle approach to coaxing you out of your shell and into his awaiting arms. First a request for help on his homework, then sitting next to you in class, for academic reasons of course. He’d ask little questions about your books and your family, nodding in rapt interest, eyes glued to the captivating way your lips formed the words. 

He could only be so subtle, it was never his specialty but he’s giving it his all. That’s what made give him the time of day, anyone could see how hard he was trying to be someone you might spend your time on. 

During a particularly chilling trip to Hogsmeade you found yourself toe to toe with your biggest fan. Stumbling none too elegantly into one another with the grace of a baby elephant confronted with a large mouse. You stared up at him, making up for all his forced subtlety with a brasen gape. His nose and cheeks were tipped pink and his wild hair stuck up in that frustratingly sleep tousled way that had you longing to card your fingers through it. One corner of his rosie pink lips quirked up in boyish smirk, you knew you were a goner, but you hadn’t guessed it’d be this bad. 

That was the beginning of a short road to a long honeymoon phase, one that faded into a comfortable relationship which continues to feel like the first peaks of the sun through your apartment windows. The very windows that made you and James choose this apartment over the one closer to London, they were french panes and you loved them almost as much as the boy sleeping next to. 

You roll over, taring your gaze away from the windows to face James’ sleeping face. Your  hand moves of its own accord to make the very movement you longed to all those years ago in front of Honeydukes. His black curls only fluffed into a larger mess as you ran your finger through them, scratching lightly at his scalp as he leaned into your hand. He may be a stag at heart, but he always reminded you of a saint bernard. Pretty boy that he is. 

You think you could lay here forever, basking in the morning dew of the life the two of you created for yourself. All the Love you poured into one another and all the twists and turns you’d put your hearts through now wrapped in a thick layer of soft amour, which consist of nothing but the thought of coming home to one another at the end of it all. The constant knowledge that no matter what, first light will break and day glow will cover your world once again.

#the maruaders #harry potter #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x you #self insert #love him love Aaron Taylor Johnson #no beta we die like half the characters in this gd fandom

[befuddled-calico-whump]

are Lex and Sarah actually going to have The Talk she mentioned in this (https://www.tumblr.com/befuddled-calico-whump/734559110463389696/feel-totally-free-to-ignore-this-butive-been)? and if yes, how would it go?

previous part

cw: alcoholism (discussed), past trauma/implied noncon (discussed), adult language

•°•°•

Lex was silent as Sarah made breakfast, eyes firmly locked on the table. It was almost noon when she'd finally made it downstairs; staying awake until who-knew-when to wait up for the assassin had really taken a toll on her sleep schedule. Not that she'd be able to fall asleep anyway without the confirmation he was back safe and sound.

Akeela and Hugo had already eaten and were working on scouring some new leads---well, Hugo was scouring leads while Akeela antagonized him---and Rosie, nocturnal as ever, would probably be in bed until mid afternoon. Which meant it was just her an Lex for the morning meal.

Now that she thought about it, this might've been the first time she'd seen him sitting at the table at all.

Was it because of last night? Did he even remember last night? Her promise to talk in the morning? If that's what he was hanging around for, she didn't know how to proceed. It was good, good he wanted to talk, to address the drinking problem no one wanted to acknowledge, but she wasn't qualified for this kind of thing. She didn't want to screw up; give him some kind of fucked-up advice that would only make everything worse for him.

At the same time, it felt like he was finally relaxing around her. He'd let her touch him last night. Hug him. Hell if she hadn't wanted to do that a hundred times in the past.

From you, it's okay.

His heart had beat so fast when she wrapped her arms around him, and even as attuned as she was to listening, Sarah still couldn't tell if it was anxiety at being touched, or... Or something else.

She sighed, turning off the stove and scraping scrambled eggs from frying pan to paper plate. It wasn't allowed to be something else. They didn't have time for something else, not now, and she couldn't waste energy on hopeful nothings when she had a team to keep alive.

Besides, there was a bigger elephant in the room that needed to be addressed.

"So," she began as she set a plate in front of Lex. "You still wanna talk?"

He didn't make a move on the eggs. She didn't even know if he liked scrambled eggs, but they were cheap, and quick, and easy, and he needed to eat something.

"I..." he swallowed, picking up a fork, poking at the food, not taking a bite. "Yeah. Think I do."

"Okay." Shit. Should she sit down? Stay standing? What was the best way to make this feel less awkward, less like an accusation or a lecture? She settled for leaning against the back of a chair, right across from him.

"So." She bit her lip. "Drinking."

Fuck, she was already blowing it. What would happen if she said something wrong enough? Would he run away? Would he ever come back?

"It's funny," Lex said, stirring the eggs, not looking up. "I keep thinking this conversation would be easier if I was drunk."

Sarah nodded. "I guess they usually are. Or, I mean, they seem easier. But all it really does is create distance, y'know? Everything is still just as hard when that distance fades away."

"I know."

He fidgeted with the fork, she fidgeted with her glasses. Neither of them seemed to know what to say next.

"I know it's stupid," Lex said at last. "And dangerous."

"Yeah. It is."

"And... And it's selfish. Risking your team like that."

"That's not..." Sarah sighed, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "You're on my team, Lex. Okay? I know it can be a risk to the rest of us if you're careless on your way home, but right now I'm just worried about you."

"Why?"

"I just said---"

"I've been watching my own back for years, Spyglass. I don't need someone to worry about me."

Spyglass. Ouch. Maybe she'd been wrong about him getting more comfortable around her. Maybe last night had been a fluke.

"Okay," Sarah said. "You don't need it. But don't you want it? Don't you want to be able to rest easy, knowing we'll watch out for you?"

"I can still rest easy---"

"Without drinking yourself stupid," she muttered, and instantly regretted it. This was it, this was the fuckup that would send him running. "Lex..."

"No." The fork was clenched in his fist now. "You're right. I can't."

"Why not?" It wasn't an accusation or a demand, just a simple question, soft words.

He was silent, but she didn't push. Last night, he seemed like he needed to get this out. If that need was still in there, if she was the person he wanted to tell, he'd speak in his own time.

His posture seemed casual enough, hunched over the eggs that were probably cold by now, but even without her sight abilities, she could tell his body was rigid.

"The Tower fucks you up," he said at last, and it was almost a whisper. Sarah sharpened her hearing, just enough that she wouldn't miss a word.

"It's... I was always alone. Unless, uh, unless they were hurting me." He swallowed, and she watched his throat bob up and down, her hands tight around the back of the chair.

"It was the same fucking room for months. Always dark. And whenever they did bring me out, they'd usually blindfold me. So every time I close my eyes, I... It's like I might be back there. Like my body's too stupid to tell the difference if my eyes can't prove it wrong. Doesn't matter where I am. Bed. Floor. Some fucking alley. The only nights I don't wake up in a panic are the nights I'm too drunk to."

Okay, she wanted to say, we'll find a solution. We'll play music for you all night or give you a nightlight. But she could tell he wasn't done talking. It was good he was talking, but she was afraid of what he might say next. Which was dumb. Just because she didn't know about it, just because he'd never told her, didn't make what he'd gone through any less real.

"So that's why," Lex continued. "I couldn't even fucking do anything about it. When they hurt me, I mean. I tried once. Got so mad I started a fire, even with the null cuffs on, but the guards, they... Um, they made me regret it." His voice broke, but he didn't stop talking. Sarah didn't know if he could, now that the dam had been opened.

"I'd never know what was going to happen. Uriah was bad, but it was worse just being in the dark, waiting to see if someone would come hurt you that day. They'd beat me more than anything else, but there were worse things. Visitors. Rentals."

Sarah didn't know what rentals meant, but the way he said it implied enough. She was too aware of her breathing, every inhale small and silent to make room for his words.

"Some people got more creative with how they'd cause pain. Most weren't, but it didn't matter. Still hurt. One time, more than one time, a-a bunch of the guards, they just held me down and... and you know. Used me."

She'd already suspected as much, but his words still hit her like a ton of ice. A tremor went through Lex's shoulders as his chest hitched, and the little gasp he let out twisted in her stomach. His hand went to his face, thumb and forefinger rubbing at his eyes. Sarah waited for the hand to come down---for him to be able to see---before she finally moved, circling the table to stand beside him.

She half-extended a hand towards him, movement slow and cautious. "Is it okay if I..?"

"N-not right now," he said, his voice thick, and Sarah nodded. She couldn't say she didn't get it, especially right now. Instead of moving closer, she dropped to her knees next to him, resting her arms and chin on the table.

"Fuck," he choked out. "I'm sorry. Shouldn't just drop this bullshit on you."

"It's okay," she assured him. "I want to listen. If this makes you feel better... Does it?"

"I don't know. Doesn't make me feel worse." He tipped his head back, staring blankly at the ceiling. Sarah pretended not to notice that his cheeks were wet.

"That's why."

She laced her fingers together, staring at her nails. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Doubt it. Drinking is the only thing that works."

She sighed. "Lex, that's not... It's not good for you." Lamest response ever, but what else could she say? How could she possibly find an answer that was good enough for this moment? "There has to be another way."

"What happens if there isn't? Do..." His voice softened, dropping to a whisper again. "Do you want me to leave?"

It took a lot of effort to keep her hands on the table, to stop herself for reaching out to him. "No. No, not at all." Could she ever sleep again if he did? If he disappeared, if she had no idea he was safe? If he was even alive?

"I need you to stay," she said.

"To fight for the team." He nodded.

"No---yes, but that's not why." It would rip her heart out. "I kinda like having you around, you know," she said, trying to lighten her tone.

"Then..." Lex sighed, dropping his head again. "What ideas do you have? To help? I'll... I'll give them a try."

Sarah nodded. "Have you ever tried using your other senses? Smell? Hearing?"

"Listening to you right now, aren't I?" he said, but it almost sounded like a joke. She cracked a smile.

"You know what I mean."

"I haven't."

"We can try lighting a scented candle in your room. Or playing soft music through the night. Do you think that might help?"

"Worth a shot." He lifted his head, finally looking her direction, his violet eyes apologetic. She'd always been fascinated with his eyes. Their vivid shade of purple almost exactly matched the little wildflowers painted all over her childhood bedroom; a color she used to associate with a soft bed. Nostalgia.

"Sarah... Thanks. For putting up with me."

She rested her cheek on her hands, looking up at him with a soft smile. "Aw, come on, it's not nearly as awful as you make it sound. Maybe I like putting up with you."

Lex cracked a small smile. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She pushed to her feet, careful to move slow and smooth, even though her legs were half asleep from crouching. "And if you ever want to talk... About anything, really. Spaceships, fine dining, dinosaurs, how much Uriah sucks... I'll be here. I want to listen."

Lex nodded, taking a forkful of cold eggs. "I could probably make time for spaceships."

Sarah gave him a smile, then moved back to the kitchen counter, busying her hands with washing the frying pan. His time spent in the Tower was nothing short of horrifying, but if he wanted to talk about it, if he needed to talk about it, she wouldn't stop him. She just hoped she could find the right words when the time came.

And she hoped her idea worked, that he wouldn't need the alcohol, that he could sleep and not wake up in terror. Not for the team's sake, or her own, but because she'd spoken the truth the night before.

She really did care about him.

•°•°•

@whumpacabra @enteredin2eternity @kixngiggles @whumpsday @kiichu @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @shywhumpauthor @distinctlywhumpthing , @bloodinkandashes , @fleur-alise , @whumpy-daydreams , @whumpwillow , @honeycollectswhump

#I swear the hardest part about these is deciding on whose pov im using lol #wildefire #anon #thank youu #cinderglass #alcohol whump #past trauma