look at that john's toned legs

Season's Beatings

Words: 2477
Warnings: Bullying, Blood, Self-Hate, Being Beaten, Transphobia, Misgendering,
Inspired by: @bunny-yams Hamilton Highschool AU

Alex waited for Lafayette to be done changing from his cheer uniform. He had to say goodbye before running off to his quick after school choir practice. That and the fact that John and Thomas should be coming by soon to get ready for their football practice.

“Alex!” Lafayette called, walking out of the change room. Alex came over, giving him a quick hug.

“Good job today, but you stink,” Alex scrunched his nose, playfully hitting Lafayette’s arm. “Go home and shower,” he added.

“I’m hurt,” Lafayette joked, his accent thick (thicc). “Do you want me to walk you to choir?” He asked, tightening his ponytail a bit.

“I think I know the way,” Alex laughed, turning away from the much taller man. “See you tomorrow!” He waved, leaving the changing room area. He would have waited for his boyfriends but he didn’t want to be late for the meeting. They were planning what songs to do at the up coming competition and Alexander wanted to be there.

He took a left from the gym, walking down a beige tiled hall with orange and blue lockers lining the walls. He always hated the horrible, inconsistent pattern of the colours, and just how bad they were. He took a right at the end of the hall, stopping when he heard a voice.

“Well well well, if it isn’t our favourite little girl,” A voice rang out in the quiet hall. Alex turned to see James Reynolds along with some other most likely sophomores. He took a step back, almost tripping, but trying to hide it.

“What the fuck do you want Reynolds?” He spoke, trying to hide his fear. He’s been beat up many times, and while he didn’t like to back down, the beatings hurt.

“Oh, that’s no way to talk, don’t I spend so much time with you? And I haven’t gotten to much recently because of some people, ” James answered, poison seeping into his words.

“Just leave me alone, I have somewhere to be,” Alex spoke, quickly turning in hopes of getting away. He was near the gym, so if he could get past them he could go back to see if Lafayette was still there. But there were four of them, and only one him.

“Not so fast, I haven’t had fun yet,” James hissed, grabbing Alex’s shoulder and pushing him into the lockers. He punched Alex roughly in his stomach, making Alexander hunch over in pain.

One of the other guys pushed Alex over while another stepped on his arm, making Alex let out a sound of pain. He’s learned to hide it over the many beatings, cries it only encouraged them more.

“I’d kick you in the nuts, but you don’t have any because you’re just a girl, and that’s all you’ll ever be,” James spat. He leaned down, picking Alex up by the top of his shirt and glaring as his jacket.

“To think someone would ever actually love you? They’re just using you, because why not. You’re just a whore’s son, and a whore yourself,” He said in Alex’s face. Alex tried to hold back the tears but it hurt, both physically and emotionally.

“Aw look, the little girl is crying,” James mocked, making the others laugh as he threw Alex to the ground. Alex gasped for air, having the wind knocked out of him. He attempted to get away, kicking towards the guys while holding his injured arm to his chest.

One of the guys grabbed Alex’s hair, pulling him back as he cried out in pain. Tears were falling down his face as he threw his limbs around in an attempt to escape.

“So pathetic,” One of the guys said as they took turns kicking him.

“J-j-John, Th-o-mas!” Alex cried, curling himself up into a ball as the continued to beat him.

“You really think that’ll scare us, it’s after school,” James laughed as he pulled Alex by his hair once more so he was looking at him. Alexander had tears down his face as James stared at him with a smirk. “No one is here for you, you’ll always be alone,” He spat out, pushing Alex’s head back into the lockers. Alex let out a cry, biting his tongue harshly as his mouth bled. Upon impact with the corner of the metal locker Alex’s head gashed open, some blood seeping through and trickling down his forehead.

James stopped while the other guys kept beating on Alex, hearing heavy footsteps from down the hall. He didn’t want to beat the scene if someone was coming, so they couldn’t link him to the attack, so he turned and quickly left. He disappeared down the hall, most likely leaving the school.

John was the first to turn the corner, rage filling him as he saw Alex curled up into himself being beaten on by three men in his and Thomas’ year.

He didn’t even wait for anything, jumping on one of the and punching him in the face as hard as he could. Thomas ran around the corner, grabbing another one of the guys and beating on him. He quickly let go of him though as he saw the third guy trying to run away. He ran after him down the halls as John pushed the other guy to the ground.

He carefully walked over to Alex, not touching him yet because he didn’t know how hurt he was or if Alex even knew he was there.

“Alex, open your eyes, please. It’s me, John,” He spoke softly. Alex slowly opened his eyes, tears falling out of them. He rarely got beaten even close to how bad this one was, often it was a couple or small to medium beatings in a few days.

“Hey, you’re safe now, okay,” John whispered, gently wiping away Alex’s tears. He expected Thomas would get some adult to deal with this, it’s the only way to truly stop the beatings. “Can you stand?” He asked Alex, kneeling beside him.

Alex shook his head, wincing as he moved slightly. “Let’s clean you up okay?” John said. He carefully went to pick Alex up, stopping even time Alex’s breath jumped or he made any noise. Alex was always trying to play down any beating and stay quiet and he never really spoke about how much pain he was in.

John carried Alex to the nearest bathroom, bringing him into the boys even though the school doesn’t really want Alex in there. Thomas and John never cared though, always telling him to go in. He’s a boy, so he should be in the boy’s bathroom.

John placed Alex on the sink counter, turning on the tap beside him. Alex had yet to talk, looking at the ground as more tears fell. John wanted to hug him but didn’t want to hurt him more.

He got some paper towel from the dispenser and placed it under the now warm water. He first went to the cut on Alex’s forehead, dabbing it gently as Alex let out a slight hiss. John wiped up the slowly drying blood and went on to the cut on Alexander’s lip which wasn’t as bad.

He noticed that Alex was holding his right arm close to his chest. “Can you take your jacket off?” He asked quietly. He new Alex didn’t even like to take it off when he wasn’t hurt and he hated showing his marks from the beatings. Alex didn’t want to a first but gave in because he didn’t have the energy to fight. He painfully slipped it off, revealing the old bruises on his arms. His wrist was already quite swelled and red. John, having taken first aid, looked at it carefully.

“I think it’s sprained, we should probably get some ice soon,” He spoke. He looked at Alex’s other arm, seeing some more red marks where bruises will probably form with a pain in his heart. He wanted to do so much more to those guys then what he had done.

John put his hand at the bottom of Alex’s shirt to ask for permission to look at his stomach. From all of Alex’s wincing from every movement of his stomach, it was obvious it was harmed. He lifted up Alex’s shirt slightly to see the marks left behind from the punches and kicks. John wanted to cry when he saw that, and he knew they were going to look worse and they formed into bruises.

John placed a loving kiss on Alex’s lips, holding in the tears. He pulled back, staring at Alex with sadness and love. He loved him so much. John gently ran his fingers through Alex’s soft hair, pulling back when Alex winced again.

“How about we go find Thomas and get some ice?” He spoke, handing Alex back his jacket. Alex didn’t move from his spot, staring blankly at the wall.

“H-he’s going t-t-to know,” Alex stuttered out.

“Who is going to know what?” John asked, confused if what Alex was attempting to say.

“I tr-tried hard-d to h-h-hide it, b-but now G-G-G-George will know-w,” He mumbled, balling his left hand into a fist.

“Hey, if he knows he can help, right?” John said, placing his hands on Alex’s legs softly. “He can help stop it,”

“He’ll-ll s-s-see me as weak-k,” Alex mumbled, not looking at John.

“Hey,” John lifted Alex’s head up slightly, “You’re anything but weak, from everything that has been thrown at you and you can still manage to smile,” John smiled sadly, kissing Alex softly once again. “Now do you want you jacket?” He said in a more up beat tone, helping Alex put his jacket on once again.

John piggy backed Alexander back to where he first found him, where Thomas was with a teacher and a janitor who was cleaning the ground of the blood that was dripped on it.

Thomas walked over, kissing both John and Alex quickly on the cheek. The teacher came walking over behind him, “I can see from the cut that something happened, but can you confirm that you were beat by the three sophomores Thomas has said?” She asked Alex who was slightly hiding into John'a neck.

He stayed silent for a moment before talking, “There was four,” He mumbled.

“Four?” Thomas and John asked, both looking confused.

Alex nodded a bit before speaking again, “James, James Reynolds was there, he’s the one that pushed me into the locker to cut my head,” He stated, looking up from John’s neck.

“But Thomas didn’t say he saw him,” The teacher spoke.

“He ran when he heard John and Thomas running down the halls,” Alex answered, not liking all the attention he was getting. It was the wrong kind of attention, not the good kind.

“We’ll question James and the other boys, but since there is no witness here for James he might not get in trouble,” The teacher admitted.

Alex bit his already injured lip, not caring about the pain. He just sadly nodded and leaned his head against John, making sure to not hit his cut. “Let’s get you some ice,” John spoke before starting to walk down the halls with Thomas behind him, leaving the teacher with the janitor.

“I’ll call Mr. Washington for a ride,” Thomas spoke, and John could feel Alex tense but said nothing. The trio walked to the office and go a bag of ice from the secretary. Alex held it on his wrist as they waited for George to arrive to drive the three of them home. Thomas texted home to say the he and John didn’t need a ride home from football before turning his full attention to Alex.

He sat between the two guys, leaning on Thomas because he was in the side that didn’t have a giant gash on his forehead. He was sleepy but the constant pain and the freezing ice kept him awake.

When George pulled up, Thomas picked Alex up bridal style and carried him to the car. They could see the confusion and worry in George’s eyes but didn’t say anything at first. Thomas got in the back with Alex as John sat up front. Alex was placed in the middle so he could lean on Thomas for the ride home.

George gave John a concerned look a John let out a sigh, “He got beaten up badly by some dicks, excuse my language, but nothing is broken on needing stitches,” He got the main questions out of the way. George was still vary worried and lost but he just drove the trio to his house.

When they arrived Thomas went to carry Alex into the house but George took him from him. Alex didn’t do anything because he just hurt and somewhat wanted to die at that moment.

George took Alex up to his room, telling John to grab the first aid kit and for Thomas to grab some more ice. They did as they were told, bring the items to George in Alex’s room. They sat on the end of the bed as George took care of Alex, bandaging up his forehead cut and wrapping ace bandages around his wrist. He gave Alex some pain medicine and the younger boy slowly drifted off to sleep.

“How long has this been happening?” He asked the two boys who were still him the room.

“We’ve know for a little bit, but he said they were never that bad and we were protecting him during school. We didn’t think they’d come after school. We’re so sorry,” Thomas mumbled and John agreed. They were both nervous of what George would do but also guilty, knowing that they should have spoken up sooner and that they should have protected Alex better.

George sighed, placing his hand gently on Alex’s shoulder, “He probably told you not to tell didn’t he,” He said sadly, “Thank you for protecting him though.” He added, which only confused John and Thomas. They thought he was going to snap. George stood up, grabbing the first aid kit and walking towards the door, “if anything else like this happens though, let me know.” He ended strongly, leaving the room without another word.

Alex partially woke up from the sound of the door closing, “Tommy? John?” He mumbled, looking around with semi opened eyes.

“Yes, love?” Thomas asked as the two boys turned their attention to Alex.

“Cuddle me,” The younger boy mumbled, reaching out towards his boyfriends. They both laughed softly, knowing he was out of it because of the pain killers. They both crawled over to him on either side, holding him close.

The three of them fell asleep in each other’s arms, finally feeling safe and at home.

anonymous asked:

Because I think fandom needs something cheerful - could you please post some fun Claire&Jamie passage from the books, like the scene with miscroscope in "Fiery Cross" or Jamie defending a man from being feathered and tarred and turning the mob's anger into laugh in "ABOSAA" (albeit the latter is rather long)? Thanks!

With pleasure, anon!

—–

“If you’ll not let me be spiritual about it, you’ll have to put up wi’ my baser nature. I’m going to be a beast.” He bit my neck. “Do ye want me to be a horse, a bear, or a dog?”  

      “A hedgehog.”  

      “A hedgehog? And just how does a hedgehog make love?” he demanded.  

      No, I thought. I won’t. I will not. But I did. “Very carefully,” I replied, giggling helplessly. So now we know just how old that one is, I thought.  

      Jamie collapsed in a ball, wheezing with laughter.

– Outlander

—–

 "I dinna need help,“ he said, reaching for the cord at the neck of his shirt. "I told ye, I’m not drunk.”  

      “You’re right,” I said. “ ‘Drunk’ isn’t anywhere near sufficient to describe your current state. Jamie, you’re completely pissed.”  

      His eyes traveled down the front of his kilt, across the floor, and up the front of my gown.  

      “No, I’m not,” he said, with great dignity. “I did that outside.” He took a step toward me, glowing with ardor. “Come here to me, Sassenach; I’m ready.”

– Dragonfly in Amber

—–

“Hold on!” he roared. “Hold on, God damn you!”

I smiled gently, barely hearing him. The sense of great peace was lifting me, carrying me beyond the noise and chaos. There was no more pain. Nothing mattered. Another wave washed over me, and this time I forgot to hold my breath.

The choking sensation roused me briefly, long enough to see the flash of terror in Jamie’s eyes. Then my vision went dark again.

“Damn you, Sassenach!” his voice said, from a very great distance. His voice was choked with passion. “Damn you! I swear if ye die on me, I’ll kill you!”

– Voyager

—–

 "Not to say ill, I don’t reckon,” he replied. He suddenly stood up, and began to fumble up the tail of his buckskin shirt. “It ain’t the clap or the French pox, anyhow, 'cause I seen those before.” What I had thought were trousers were in fact long buckskin leggings, surmounted by a breechclout. Still talking, Mr. Myers had hold of the leather thong holding up this latter garment, and was fumbling with the knot.  

  “Damnedest thing, though; all of a sudden this great big swelling come up just along behind of my balls. Purely inconvenient, as you may imagine, though it don’t hurt me none to speak of, save on horseback. Might be you could take a peep and tell me what I best do for it, hm?”  

  “Ah…” I said, with a frantic glance at Fergus, who merely shifted his sack of beans and looked amused, blast him.  

  “Would I have the pleasure to make the acquaintance of Mr. John Myers?” said a polite Scottish voice over my shoulder.

– Drums of Autumn

—–

“Sperms,” he muttered to himself. “Sperms.” He shook his head vigorously, then turned to me, a frightful thought having just occurred to him.  

  “Whose are they?” he asked, his tone one of darkest suspicion.  

  “Er … well, yours, of course.” I cleared my throat, mildly embarrassed. “Who else’s would they be?”  

  His hand darted reflexively between his legs, and he clutched himself protectively.  

  “How the hell did ye get them?”  

  “How do you think?” I said, rather coldly. “I woke up in custody of them this morning.”

– The Fiery Cross

—–

 “Jem?” she said, startled. “What’s the matter?”  

      The flames gleamed on Jemmy’s hair like freshly minted copper, but the face under it was white, and his eyes enormous dark pools, fixed and staring.  

      “Jemmy!”  

      He turned a blank face to her, said “Mama?” in a small, uncertain voice, then sat down suddenly, his legs collapsing under him like rubber bands.  

      She was dimly aware of Germain, swaying like a sapling in a high breeze, but had no attention to spare for him. She seized Jemmy, lifting his head and shaking him a little.  

      “Jemmy! Wake up! What’s wrong?”  

      “The wee laddie’s dead drunk,a nighean, ” said a voice above her, sounding amused. “Whatever have ye been givin’ him?” Robin McGillivray, rather obviously a little the worse for wear himself, leaned over and prodded Jemmy gently, eliciting nothing more than a soft gurgle. He picked up one of Jemmy’s arms, then let it go; it fell, boneless as a strand of boiled spaghetti.  

      “Ididn’t give him anything,” she replied, panic giving way to a rising annoyance, as she saw that Jemmy was in fact merely asleep, his small chest rising and falling with a reassuring rhythm. “Germain!”  

      Germain had subsided into a small heap, and was singing “Alouette” to himself in a dreamy sort of way. Brianna had taught it to him; it was his favorite song.  

      “Germain! What did you give Jemmy to drink?”  

      “… j’te plumerai la tete…”  

      “Germain!”She grabbed him by the arm, and he ceased singing, looking surprised to see her.  

      “What did you give Jemmy, Germain?”  

      “He was thirsty, m’dame,” Germain said, with a smile of surpassing sweetness. “He wanted a drink.” Then his eyes rolled back in his head, and he keeled over backward, limp as a dead fish.

– A Breath of Snow and Ashes

—–

“Nay, I wouldna go wi‘ a whore. Not ‘til it‘s settled between Rachel and me,” he said seriously. “One way or the other. But I shallna take another woman to my bed until she tells me that I must.”

We both looked at him in some surprise across the teacups.

“You do mean it, then,” I said. “You feel… er… betrothed to her?”
“Well, of course he does, Sassenach,” Jamie said, reaching for another slice of toast. “He left her his dog.”

– An Echo In The Bone

—–

I exhaled gingerly and relaxed against him in slow motion, reveling in the feel of his warmth and the solid comfort of his body.

“Elephants,” I said, drawing the shallowest possible breath compatible with speaking. “When a female elephant is dying, sometimes a male will try to mate with her.”

There was a marked silence behind me, and then a big hand came round and rested assessingly on my forehead.

“Either ye’re fevered again, Sassenach,” he said in my ear, “or ye have verra perverse fancies. Ye dinna really want me to—”

“No,” I said hastily. “Not right this minute, no. And I’m not dying, either. The thought just came to me.”

He made an amused Scottish noise and, lifting the hair off my neck, kissed my nape. “Since ye’re no dying,” he said, “maybe that will do for the moment?”

– Written In My Own Heart’s Blood

these moments | john shelby

@ateliefloresdaprimavera wanted, and I quote: “happy,married to the love of his life John and [reader] who’s like a daughter to Polly”

hope you like it, hun!

You marched down the street, half angry, half exhausted. Groups of kids were running up and down and you cast an eye out to check whether any of yours were there. Men tipped their caps to you as you passed and you barged your shoulder into Polly’s front door, slamming it behind you.

“I got fucking fired, didn’t I?”

“Lovely to see you too, sweetheart. Sit yourself down. Kettle’s just boiled, you can explain yourself”

You huffed, yanking your scarf off and chucking it over the back of a chair.

“Thanks Pol. Where’s the kids?”

“John’s got them”

“John’s got them?”

Polly cast a look up to you as she brewed the pot and smirked when she saw your confused look.

“He was showing Katie her numbers and the rest wouldn’t let them be, you know what they’re like”

“Sorry, no, go back – John’s got the kids? By himself?”

She chuckled to herself and slid a cup over to you.

“Sit yourself down. And explain”

Keep reading

Request: “I broke my leg, its not like I died.” With Oliver Queen? :)
Warnings: None? unless the broken leg counts

You and Felicity were watching the computer screen as Oliver fought yet another villain of Starling. And the villain was winning. He knew they were dangerous, that’s why he didn’t let you go. Felicity sent Dig and Thea for backup, but she swore to Ollie that you wouldn’t go. Under any circumstances. All you could do was watch and worry. Thea and Diggle finally arrived to the scene and were able to take down the criminal.

You were too focused on them to realize that Oliver was laying on the ground, holding onto his leg. Obviously Felicity didn’t realize either. You pointed it out to her and she immediately informed Dig and Thea. They rushed over to him and lifted him up. You couldn’t hear anything but you could see him tense up from the pain.


When the three got back from the encounter, they brought Ollie down to the “Arrow Cave” and set him down on the operation table. You rushed over to him and grabbed his hand.

“Ollie are you okay? Do you need anything? What can I get you?” you spoke.

“Y/N, Y/N shhh. I broke my leg, it’s not like I died.” he said in a comforting tone, which still outraged you.

“Exactly Oliver! You broke your leg!” you exclaim.

“I’ve been hurt worse.” he says while turning his head the other way to face Dig. “Isn’t that right John?” You and Diggle looked at each other and after a long second of eye contact, he shrugged. Felicity started treating his wounds and he winced at the pain. You finally gave up trying to fight him and walked over to the computer to do some research on another someone you were trying to bust.


You’ve been on the computer for hours. You hadn’t noticed anything going on around you when all the sudden somebody calls your name and you jump.

“Y/N?” they say. You sat there for a moment and they call you again.

“Y/N?!” they repeat. You hopped out of your chair and ran to who was calling for you. It was Oliver. When you walked toward him he attempted to sit up.

“So, how’s your leg?” you ask, a bit playfully. He lets out a small chuckle.

“Fine. Thanks for asking.” he replies. “You’ve been at that computer for a while. You find anything?” he asks.

“Just a little. There was som–” you stopped when you felt arms wrap around your waist. “Ollie?”

“Hm?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah…I love you.”

You smiled and bent down to kiss him on the forehead.

“I love you, too.”

Originally posted by feilcityqueen


-Lizzie

What a Tease Part 3

1st gif source: X

2nd gif belongs to Bonniebird (gif source: X )

John x Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5 

Prompt: You tease John while he is in a meeting.

A/N: I accidentally posted this to my main blog (oops!) so i had to redo the entire post (double oops!). But if you’re reading this it’s finally up so yay! Part two did so well, so I decided to release this earlier than I originally was going to. (Two days after Part 2 instead of a week later!) I’m currently writing part four but based on how long I think part four would be if I tried to end it while including all I want in it I think there will also be a part five but that will most likely be the last part unless I get a lot of people asking for more parts. I have a few ideas for new fics floating around so i might make a vote based thing soon just to give me an idea of what you all would like to see. Okay I’m done rambling. Enjoy and leave me feedback!


John shut the door and stood over leaning against the wall with a still perfect view of you through all of the windows that showed the view of the inside of the betting office. 

“You finally decided to join us, John.” Tommy stated flatly, while taking the longest drag of his cigarette John had ever seen. John just nodded thinking it better to not take a swing at the beehive knowing he would just get stung. His brother seemed upset and he would usually be worried about that but he couldn’t stop thinking about the way you looked up at him. Or the somewhat reserved yet devilish smile you always had while speaking to him. You were untamed yet very held back. Reckless but reserved. Strong but dainty. You were a living contradiction and he loved every ounce of it. 

Keep reading

My Son - John Shelby

Request: Can I request a imagine where the reader and John are having their first child and hes so happy/proud that hes bringing another Shelby to the family.. Martha and Esme dont exist super fluffy and just plan adorable lol thank you.. I love your writing.. @happys-crazy-queen22

My Son - John Shelby

At this point, despite only being some five months along according to the doctor, John had told nearly everyone in Small Heath that you were pregnant. You and John had only been married some three months and you knew, with how much you were showing, that people would realize you were pregnant before the wedding. It wasn’t why you and he had gotten married but you knew that gossips in Small Heath would say it was why. A Shelby boy trying to fix a mistake by marrying the girl.  

Keep reading

36 Seconds

Sherlock x reader x john (platonic) 

Requested: Yes

Warnings: ANGST

_____________________________________________

 "(Y/N), what are you doing?“ John asked 

curiously holding a bag of groceries in his arms. You were huddled behind a sitting chair in Sherlock’s flat, just barely peeking your eyes over the side to glance at Sherlock standing frozen by the fire place. “Hiding.” John sighed shifting his weight as he stood in the door way. “And why are you doing that?" 

You shot him a quick glance before returning your eyes to Sherlock. "He got frustrated with a case and started shooting at the wall, he gave no warning though and I was sitting on the couch underneath.” You explained nodding your head to the new bullet holes. John sighed loudly, entering the flat and shuffling to the kitchen with his bags. “I’m surprised Mrs. Hudson hadn’t come up here to yell at him.” He called as cupboards slammed shut. “She’s been out all day, otherwise she would’ve.” You replied leaning your head onto the seat beside you. 

“I am right here you know?” Sherlock piped up, slowly thawing out of his frozen stance. You scoffed, flipping hair off of your shoulder. “You’ve been absent from this conversation and you never really listen once you’re in your mind palace." 

"You do make it most difficult to concentrate with all your blabbering. You can come out from behind  the chair now.” Sherlock straightened the collar of his jacket. He walked to the couch and laid across it. Standing tentatively you scanned the room. “Promise not to almost shoot me?” You laughed sheepishly. “It’s not like I wanted to hit you. If I had, I wouldnt have missed.” Sherlock snapped crossing his legs and folding his hands behind his head. “Then what was all that for then? I really did think you were going to shoot me Sherlock! Why would you be so reckless?” Heat was making a wave across your body. As you yelled at him, your voice grew louder, causing the rest of the flat to go silent. 

Sherlock sat up, fingers gripping the cushion. “You knew I wasn’t going to hurt you.” He said sternly. “Did I? Did I really Sherlock? Because there were times when you have hurt me for experiments, whether you meant to or not.” He rolled his eyes, “That was over 12 years ago, we already got past this." 

"Well with all of the stress you’ve been under, I cant tell if you’ve got your head on right." 

Sherlock walked towards you, only stopping with his face inches away from yours. "Are you questioning my judgement?” You looked up to him, staring straight into his eyes. “No, I’m questioning you.” You challenged. Before Sherlock could open his mouth to answer John came in between you and pushed your bodies apart. “Come on now, you’re acting more foolish than a child. I would know, I have one.” John scolded. “It seems that John agrees with me.” Sherlock piped. “I never said that.” John shouted. You turned away, walking to your bag thrown by the door. “Its fine. I’ll just leave.” You picked up the bag, throwing it over your shoulder and descending the stairs. “Where are you going? Your flat is upstairs.” Sherlock called to you, annoyance evident in his tone. “Why does it matter to you? You don’t care about my safety.” You yelled back, rushing your feet in front of you. You made a point to slam the front door behind you as you exited the building. 

John turned to Sherlock with a stern look in his eyes. “That wasn’t very nice of you.” Sherlock huffed, throwing himself back into his chair. As he crossed his legs he said, “She’ll be back. She’s going to be over it soon. We’ve had so many fights over the years, especially when we were teenagers.” John sighed shaking his head. He moved to the kitchen to make himself some tea. While he waited for the kettle, he joined Sherlock in the sitting room. “When do you reckon (y/n) will be back?" 

Sherlock shrugged, "We’ve got Lestrade’s Charity ball to go to tonight. She’s supposed to accompany us, I’m sure she’ll be here in enough time to get herself ready for that.” John went to reply, but the kettle in the other room started to pipe. Both men sat waiting in the flat, wondering where you’d run off to. 

You knew you were overreacting but that didn’t stop you from feeling immensely hurt that Sherlock seemed to have no concern for your well being. After years of being by his side the two of you had developed a very close bond with each other. You lived in the apartment above Sherlock, and when John came around you became an unbeatable trio. You’d walked until you ran off your angry fumes and looked around the city. You still had to pick up your dress for the ball tonight and you needed to get ready. However you didnt want to go back home and face Sherlock so soon. 

You phoned Lestrade and asked him to take you to the tailors the next town over. It only took a few minutes for him to find you on the street corner and pick you up. “Didn’t want to take a cab?” He asked, opening the passenger door from inside. “Not really, no.” You said climbing in beside him.  “Everything alright?” Lestrade asked, pulling back into traffic. “Yeah, me and Sherlock just got into a little tiff.” You replied leaning your head against the window. “Might I ask what it’s about?” Lestrade asked sending you a quick glance before returning his eyes to the road. “He cant even make an effort to even pretend to care about my wellbeing. I know I shouldn’t be upset over it but I’m hurt.” You watched the people on the street as you told him, trying to force your mind to wander away. 

Lestrade gave you a sad smile “Oh (y/n) you know he cares about you. Sherlock isn’t too great with emotions.” You nodded your head, avoiding further conversation. It was silent between you two for a few minutes before Lestrade spoke again. “What does the dress look like?" 

"It’s white.” You replied. 

He chuckled besides you, “Very specific.” As you pulled up the the tailors you began gathering your things. “You’ll just have to wait and see it.” You teased, opening the door and exiting the car. It only took a few minutes to collect the dress, carrying it to the trunk in a white bag. When you returned to the passenger seat Lestrade smiled. “Where to now?" 

"Molly’s.” You answered swiftly. “Not going back to your flat?” He questioned. “No, I’ll go back after the event. I need a little space from him.” With that Lestrade pulled out of the parking lot and drove you to Molly’s. He even insisted to walk you to her door, greeting Molly with a hug and a smile. “Have you seen the dress Greg?” Molly chirped pushing hair out of her face. “(Y/N) wouldn’t let me look. All I know about it is the color.” Lestrade answered shoving his hands into his coat. “Which is?" 

"White.” You and Lestrade said simultaneously. “(Y/N) you’re going to look gorgeous!” Molly said excitedly. “I’m sure the dress will be, hopefully I can keep it from being stained so I can return it.” You laughed settling into the foyer. “I’ll see you ladies tonight.” Greg said giving a nod and retreating back to his car. 

Molly helped you in, making tea and excitedly telling you about the date that would be accompanying her. In turn, you told her about the happenings with Sherlock. When the time came, you and Molly got ready together, fixing up each others hair and makeup. She let you borrow a pair of shoes so you wouldn’t have to go out and get any. 

Walking into the ball, you gave Molly a kiss and sadly watched her depart across the room. Your hair was up in a low bun, part of your hair brought down in the front in a curl. Your dress was sleeveless, leaving much of your shoulders and back exposed. Silver embellishments laced across your waist and the gown went down to the floor. Underneath you wore simple white flats. You looked at the ground hesitantly, adjusting your earring and sighing. 

A hand lightly landed on your back, urging you forward. You looked over to the person and was greeted by John. He flashed a quick smile and wink. You smiled in return letting him lead you with his hand on your back. He leaned closer, kissing your temple and lowly saying, “Everything will be fine. You look gorgeous.” Giving a shy thank you, your eyes scanned across the dining room. Couples scattered about, all sipping wine and sharing laughs that carried across the room. 

John walked you to a table where Sherlock sat, fingers tapping rapidly. John left your side to take his seat on one side of Sherlock while you took the other. Random others sat across the table from the three of you. “Hello Sherlock.” You said under your breath as you fixed out your dress in your lap. “Didn’t think you’d be speaking to me tonight.” He replied quickly. “Just because I speak to you doesn’t mean I’m not still hurt.” You snapped back coldly. Sherlock raised his eyebrows at this but shook his head and focused his attention else where. You sat in silence, twiddling your fingers under the table. 

A collective stillness gathered across the room as Lestrade greeted everyone and announced dinner would begin shortly. Your table struck up a short conversation during the meal, for the most part you kept to yourself. Mindlessly pushing your food around the plate you felt Sherlock’s hand tap your thigh under the table. You looked over to him wordlessly glancing curiously into his eyes. “I’m sorry.” He said. 

“It’s fine.”

The rest of the dinner went by normally. You tried to act like things didn’t happen, but Sherlock still seemed tense. His eyes flickered across the room, you nudged him with your elbow. “Something’s wrong.” He whispered in your ear. Three sharp clicks against a glass stopped your conversation. Lestrade thanked everyone for coming and announced that cars were beginning to come around to escort people out. Several couples began to stand and make their way out of the dining room. 

“Before everyone leaves tonight I would like to thank an unlikely trio of people who have been of a great service to everyone at Scotland yard.” Lestrade announced smiling proudly. You hadn’t noticed until then but a very annoyed Donovan sat beside him, huffing out loud breaths with her arms crossed. “On behalf of myself and the rest of our group we would ask these individuals to stand from their seats in recognition. (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N),” Lestrade paused as you stood. Giving a shy wave and biting lightly on your lip in embarrassment. 

“Dr. John Watson," 

There was an eerie feel about the room. People were clapping and smiling politely, but Sherlock’s previous words had you on edge. A particular man caught your eye, he sat still and watched you very closely. As John stood the man became more tense. 

"And lastly, Sherlock Holmes.”

You didn’t have enough time to bring him to Sherlock’s attention. You felt Sherlock stand beside you. The man you had your eyes glued on reached into his jacket pocket, quickly standing before firing at the man beside you. You yelled out, pushing Sherlock back into his seat and stepping in front of his body. You were certain you were the only person who knew what was happening. Loud gasps and cries echoed in the room. The man lunged forwards shooting you again before being taken down by people around him. John caught your arm as you fell back to the floor. 

Sherlock was now above you frantically looking for direction from John. More people gathered around but Sherlock shouted at them to move away. Your head was heavy on the floor, your arms limp besides you. You watched as John held dinner napkins to one wound while Sherlock held some on the other. Lestrade came then, replacing Sherlock’s hands holding the napkins. 

You could see the three men were trying to comfort you. “How long until an ambulance can get here?” Lestrade’s voice cracked when he asked. “There’s a lot of traffic, people are running mad about. We could try to pick her up but shes losing blood fast.” John answered trying to collect himself. “They should be here in 3 minutes and 19 seconds.” Sherlock interrupted. “Assuming they go the quickest and most logical route.” He continued. “Well what are we supposed to do until then?” Lestrade asked. John remained silent, only looking at you with teary eyes. “It’s going to be okay (Y/N)." 

Sherlock’s face dropped, his face wrinkled as he held back tears in his eyes. "Your dress is beautiful.” Lestrade told you, taking in a deep breath.  “Looks like I won’t be able to return it huh?” You joked, trying to hide a wince from the pain. “Stop (Y/N) you’re going to be okay.” Sherlock said, taking your hand in his and squeezing it tight. You nodded letting out several heavy breaths. “Can you hold me?" 

Sherlock moved scooping you under your arms to lay you across his lap, John and Lestrade moved directly next to him. All three men looked down on you. "I love you guys.” You said breathlessly. “Thank you for everything Greg.”

Lestrade wiped tears from his eyes roughly, “This is not how this ends.” He replied loudly. He stood then shouting at people to get help. You could feel everything in your body become heavier. As you looked at Sherlock and John, your eyes flickered slowly between theirs. “There isn’t any two other people I’d rather have spent my life with. You guys are the closest thing to a family I’ve ever got.”

The last few shallow breaths escaped you, John was holding your hand tightly and Sherlock was smoothing out your hair. They sat wordlessly for a few seconds, letting their tears fall onto your now lifeless body. It felt like forever for the ambulance to finally arrive. When they did Sherlock let them pull your body away from his lap and attend to you. Sherlock stayed on the floor, tears rolling down his cheeks. “They were 36 seconds late." 

Tags: @mollyhamishpond

I’ll Always Save You- John Shelby

Request// A john Shelby imagine where you (his wife, pregnant or not your choice) get kidnapped and he has to get the entire family together to get you back.. Pleaseeee

*I love y’all for all the positive feedback you’ve been giving me! Thank you guys so much and I’m going to try and post a couple new prompts this week. xoxox*

Masterlist


“Tommy,” John yelled out in the empty betting house. “Tommy!”

“What the hell is it, Johnny Boy?” Tommy and Pol made themselves known by exiting the office to find a hysterical John pacing across the wooden floorboards.

“They’ve got her, they took Y/N.” He made little since out of context, but the fear Thomas heard as your name fell from his throat had him on high alert. You and John had been married for over three years and he had never seemed as happy as he was after meeting you. It was almost as if the war never happened, and John was once again the boyishly charming lad that everyone once knew.

“What? Who took her?”

“Fuckin’ Sabini’s men. They came to the house and ripped her from our bed while I was out.” John’s breathing became heavy, every word whispered making the situation more real.

Now, Tommy paced as well. Tonight had been a low point for the Shelbys. Arthur had been arrested for the murder Billy Kitchen while Michael had been thrown behind bars by Officer Campbell for the burning of the Marquis of Lorne. The pile was just adding up.

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higherthanthebeasts  asked:

Your ficlets are my favourite thing, and a lovely salve to sooth my personal disappointment over TFP (but eh onwards and upwards yes?) Would love it if you wrote a little ficlet with sherlock comforting John and talking about John's childhood/upbringing - would be interesting to hear your thoughts on whether some of John's insecurities could stem from childhood/adolescence. (The sweeter and more tender the better - your work is fabulous!!! Hope you're having a good day!)

(Can be viewed as a sequel to this)

Sherlock knows John’s mother is dead. He doesn’t know how or when, or if his father is still alive or not- if so, presumably very estranged. There are gaps in John Watson’s life that Sherlock does not know how to fill, but he doesn’t want to- not until John’s ready, that is.

The first time John gives him a little window into his past, Sherlock is completely taken. He is making tea, and has turned on the radio (Radio 2, he thinks it was on, John’s default) and is vaguely humming along to whatever song is playing. 

He turns to give a cup to John and is astonished. John is leaning on the counter, hand covering his mouth, silent tears just starting to fall. 

“John!” He nearly spills the tea over his hand. “John, what’s wrong?”

John jumps and his hand moves from his mouth to touch his cheek. Of course, it comes away wet, but John seems surprised by his own tears. 

“Oh-um. Sorry. That- don’t know where that came from.” He pauses, breathes out, and obviously forces a smile to reassure him. “It… my mum loved this song.” And he says it so quietly, Sherlock could almost swear he hadn’t heard anything at all. He lets himself focus on the music.

“When I grew up, and fell in love, I asked my sweetheart ‘What lies ahead….?’” 

Sherlock considers John over his own mug of tea, and passes John’s to him. His tears have largely dried, and he’s now listening to the song with a very faint smile. Sherlock turns up the volume, and lets it all be, for now.

He can sense it, this quiet yet burning need John has to say… something. He doesn’t want to pry, and he definitely, definitely doesn’t want to accidentally do it all wrong and cause John to completely clam up. 

So, instead, he offers John a part of his past like an anchor. During dinner, he puts on a deliberately ‘80′s themed playlist. When the fourth song starts to play, Sherlock casually mentions, “Mummy always put this one on when we had parties.”

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Mothers

Author: @riversong-sam
Word Count: 578
Parings:
John x Reader
Warnings: fluff, angst maybe? 
A/N:
I hope you enjoy this! slightly AU Feedback is greatly appreciated. possibly more parts??

John took you in at nineteen after seeing how good you were with his sons. Dean was eight and Sam four at the time. You had knelt down to their eye level and introduced yourself.
“Hi I’m (Y/N)” you smiled and held your hand to Dean who stood protectively in front of little Sam and glanced at his father. A subtle nod from John and Dean shook your hand.
“I’m Dean and this is my brother Sammy.”
“Well hello there” you wave at Sam, who gives you a small shy smile clutching Deans leg.
“I’m your daddy’s friend but I want to be yours to is that ok?”
Sam smiled wider and came out from behind Dean toddling over to you. You smiled and put him in your lap, chatting with Dean a little.
“You like Batman?”
He nods vigorously and talks adamantly about him.
“Dean” John said causing the little boy to stop.
You looked up at John, “He’s fine John let him talk.” Sam was too young to hear the warning tone that came with your voice, silently telling his father to shut up but Dean wasn’t.
You turned back to Dean leaning closer, “Can I tell you a secret?”
He nods.
“Batman is my favorite” he giggles and you smile widely standing with Sam.
“Alrighty boys lets go grocery shopping. I’ll make dinner.”
You endeared yourself in both his and his childrens eyes that day. You had only been with them a short time before Sam started calling you momma. That had caused quite a disturbance in the force. You left the boys inside and had drug John out by his ear.  
“What the hell is your problem John.” You hissed lowly not to alarm the boys by shouting.
“My problem is you trying to replace my wife.” He growled lowly.
“Oh for the love of.. John Winchester you listen to me good. I AM NOT trying to replace Mary. Do you understand? I love you and those boys in there. I don’t care if they call me mom or if they call me (Y/N). Mary is gone John it’s been five years. You and those precious little ones deserve to be happy John.” You shook your head at him.
“I’m not her John I never will be. You still love her I understand that but DO NOT take that out on me. Again I’m not trying to replace her, I’m just here to help.”
You walked away and not long after that conversation did he ease up. You really weren’t trying to replace her, he realized that all it took was you not yelling but strongly emphasizing you weren’t. The two of you started dating after about a year and a half of you being with them. By the time you were twenty-seven he proposed.  
You had a simple wedding gown and Dean walked you down the isle. That was the first time he called you mom.
“You look beautiful mom.” He whispers hugging you before handing you off to his father. You had tears in your eyes as you kissed his cheek.
**
You had been through everything with them. Comforting both sam and John whenever Dean died. Or the other way around when you lost Sam. When Sam was soulless and Samuel Campbell was back. When Dean got the mark and was a knight of hell.
What threw your happy little family for a loop though was when Amara brought Mary back.

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Positive (John Laurens x Reader)

Word Count: 819

Request/Summary: Can he convince you to stay? (I feel like I’m advertising for a trashy tv drama)

AU: Modern

Warnings: Acknowledges the existence of sex, cussing, lil angsty.

A/N- Please enjoy.


You woke up cold. Too cold. You curled yourself into a tight ball and yanked the covers out from beneath you, pulling them over your shoulder. You suddenly became aware of your own nakedness. You shrugged it off, yawned and rolled over. Your eyes popped open wide when you found your friend next to you in bed, completely naked. Memories from the previous night flooded back into your mind. Or he was just a friend.

“Just a dream.” You mumbled to yourself. “Wake up, (Y/N). Wake up. This can’t be happening.” You shut your eyes tightly. When you opened them again, you were still in bed with him. You sighed and crawled out of bed, careful not to move the mattress too much while doing so. You picked your dress from the previous night off of the floor and stared at it. Instead of putting it on, you dropped it to the floor and slipped into your panties.You pulled open several drawers until you found a t-shirt and jeans. You put them on, scraping up every memory you could from last night. You weren’t particularly drunk, and neither was John as far as you could tell. It just seemed to happen.

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babybrotherdean  asked:

!!! John with small babies pre-fire doing. Baby things. ??? Being cute and soft, maybe. ;-;

Mary left a small basket full of flowers on the table. She’d meant to arrange them, put them in a vase, but now Dean’s gotten to them, and John’s just sitting there, watching him pick them up one by one and squish them together and separate them again. He’s putting them on the table side by side, making small piles of them; the only time John intervenes is when he starts picking petals off the white one, whatever it is.

“Hey, now. Mommy’s not going to be happy if you ruin her flowers.”

“Mm,” Dean says and sits down, watching the flower a little dejectedly.
Then he puts it back down on the table and grabs a bunch of other ones, making a small bouquet in his hand. He offers it towards his father with a smile that makes his round cheeks puff.

John chuckles quietly, lifting baby Sam a little higher up over his arm so that he can accept the bouquet from Dean. The kid on his lap makes a whiny sound and his face crumples up for a moment before he figures that things are still good and nobody’s waking him up abruptly. Dean toddles forwards, leaning to and over John’s leg: he examines his small brother for a moment before making a happy sound and looking at John.

“He’s so tiny,” he says then in that childish tone of pure content happiness that he often wears on him, “And so dumb.”

“Don’t say that about your brother. I bet he’s really, really smart.”

“He’s a dumb baby.”

John laughs.
“You’ll see.”

“Hey, Dad.”

“Yeah, buddy?”

“Can you put a flower behind my ear like - like in the cartoons?”

A small smile lingers on John’s face as he nods.
“Sure I can. Pick the best and I’ll make sure it stays put.”

Dean comes back with the white flower he was about to abuse earlier, and he hands it to John looking somewhat nervously excited. John straightens the flower’s stem and puts it behind Dean’s earlobe, pulls it back a little so that the flower touches the skin and balances itself so that it doesn’t fall off right away.

Further away, the door opens: Mary’s back home. John rests his hand on Dean’s shoulder and looks him in the eye.

“Go say hi to your mom,” he tells him in a secretive voice, “See if she notices anything different.”

Dean nods excitedly and rushes away. His small steps pitter-patter away as John leans back to the couch and closes his eyes.

Yeah, a nap wouldn’t hurt.

coololdsoulpoetlove  asked:

I saw the A/B/O prompt list link so I had to check it out, but there were so many good ones!!!! So I'm choosing the 1st one that caught my attention: #21: [in public place] "Stay calm. I may have just gone into heat." With the squad por favor!

sure thing!

21 - “Stay calm. I may have just gone into heat.”

You knew your heat was coming, but you weren’t entirely sure when it would hit. You had already begun nesting, taking over the guest bedroom and rearranging pillows, mattresses, and blankets until you were satisfied. That was your biggest indicator that your heat was closer than you thought. 

Of all the places it had to hit, a restaurant was the worst. The restaurant was huge and seemed to have more alphas present than omegas. Laf had his hand on your waist protectively as you followed the hostess to your table. He made sure you were in between Herc and John while he sat close to Alex.

You felt safer with John and Herc on either side of you. Dinner was nice, light-hearted, but towards the end of your meal, you shifted in your dress. You felt warmer than before. You quickly took a sip of your water, but you couldn’t relax. You swallowed and began to feel a low, dull pain in your lower back. 

You tugged on Herc’s shirt. He quickly turned and looked down at you. “You okay, princess?”

You nodded slightly. “Stay calm,” You said softly, sitting up a little straighter. “I may have just gone into heat.”

Thankfully, Herc stayed calm. He simply nodded, biting his lip a little in thought. His thoughts were interrupted when he noticed how your scent changed. It pierced the air and messed with his head. He cleared his throat, ignoring his carnal desire of claiming you right here. He ignored the thought because if he had noticed your scent, then he was sure other alphas did too.

“Laf,” Herc said lowly. “I’m going to get a couple of boxes.”

Laf frowned a little. In response, Hercules glared at him. Laf wasn’t sure what to make of it until your scent reached him. As he looked at you, he saw how you shifted uncomfortably and had your legs crossed tightly. You looked hot and uncomfortable. You felt Laf staring at you. All you could do was look up at him desperately. 

“Mm.” He nodded a little. He watched as Hercules pulled your beta server over. In a low tone, he asked for the check and some boxes. Thankfully, he was quick to come back with everything Herc requested, moving faster than before. 

John rubbed your back, trying to put you at ease. You gave him a weak smile, tried to fight the urge to crawl over him and Alex to get to Laf, tried to fight the urge to bury yourself into Herc’s side. Alex helped Laf get everything packed up. Herc took care of the bill and took your hand without hesitation and led you out of the restaurant. 

You silently prayed this heat would be an easier one.  

I Try To Understand

Sherlock Holmes (BBC Sherlock):

Summary: Y/N’s anxiety attacks are triggered by crowds and people she doesn’t know, which annoys Sherlock because he doesn’t understand it.

Requested by anon.

×××

Now, I stood there. All alone. And was told to ask around to find new essential information. Nothing special really as a known assistance of the great consulting detective Sherlock Holmes.

But normally my assignments consisted of helping him with chemical results or looking for clues at a crime scene.

They didn’t know. Sherlock and John, neither didn’t know about my anxiety. Talking to people. Strange people. It was horrible.

And now I stood there. All alone. And was told to ask strangers about the last night.

I decided to start with the security gard, hoping to get enough information at once.
“S-So… uhm, Mrs. Baker, have y-y seen or heard anything unusual last night?”, I wanted to know, stumbling over some words. God dammit, focus!

“No, nothing really. It was, in fact, one of the calmest night in the last days…”, she replied, a thoughtful expression on her face as she touched her chin lightly. I fiddled with my fingers, trying to calm me down.
“Oh, yeah? Why was that?”, I questioned and looked to the side, noticing Sherlock and John standing right at the end of the hall.

She started rambling about her last shifts and explained in detail what was different from other nights while I tried to listen to her. My fingers fiddled with the hem of my shirt and I bit the inside of my cheeks, trying to distract me from my anxiety.

I knew that she couldn’t harm me, she seemed like a nice and calm woman but still I was panicking. I couldn’t really explain what it was and I was simply nervous. Too nervous to process this whole lot of information that this lovely woman was telling me.

“Not listening.”, I heard a monoton voice and snapped out of my trance. The voice belonged to Sherlock, who now stood right next to me. He shoved me to the side, scoffing as I hold my breath.

“I am listening.”, I said a bit angrily, even though he was right. I simply didn’t want to get into an embarrassing situation with a stranger but it was already too late.

“Your eyes are constantly directed to the ground. Your hands are shaking and you fiddle with the hem of your shirt. You always to do that when you’re nervous. Nervous means not being able to listen.”, Sherlock explained in a rush and my cheeks started to blush in a slight tone of red.

“Sorry.”, I mumbled before the woman gave me a understanding smile and turned to Sherlock, who started to question her.

John appeared next to me, looking at me with his hand on my hand. “You alright”, he wanted to know and I just nodded, biting my lip. “You know him. He doesn’t mean it like that.”, he assured but I just rolled my eyes and mumbled, “sure, he doesn’t.”

-

Later at 221B Bakerstreet Sherlock sat on his usual seat, legs close to his chest while he was in his mind Palast. John sat at his computer, finishing to write down our latest case while I was researching.

“Shut up, both of you.”, Sherlock suddenly said and John and I both looked up, confused.

“We weren’t saying anything.”, I said, still confused and Sherlock shrugged, standing up abruptly and throwing his body on the couch.

Time passed and I got frustrated about not finding anything useful and the whole flat was quiet apart from the tapping sounds coming from John’s key board.

After I sighed Sherlock gasped, his mouth and eyes wide. “That’s it!”, he exclaimed, making John and me look up again.

“Oh, so, you solved the case?”, John wanted to know while Sherlock stood up excitedly standing next to us.

“What? No!”, he said matter-of-factly, “I finally figured out what’s wrong with Y/N.”

“Yeah, uh, what is it?”, I asks, not really knowing what he was talking about.
“It’s anxiety!”, he pointed at me proudly and grinned as he clapped his hands.

“You suffer from anxiety which is triggered by strange people and crowds. And that’s why you are always quiet and stutter like a dumb sheep.”, Sherlock explained, still being all excited and proud, “And you was too afraid to tell us! But why…? Ah! Because you don’t want us to make fun of you! Am I right? I am and I know it.”

I couldn’t say a word. I looked everywhere but at him or John. He was right. I didn’t want to tell them. I didn’t want them to make fun of me. In general, I didn’t know what they would think of me.

“Sherlock.”, John mumbled, looking at him with a strict expression.
“What?”, Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows, before he looked at my smaller form. My eyes tearing up, my teeth biting my lower lip.

“Oh…”, Sherlock sighed and then it was quiet.

“I’m sorry.”, Sherlock said quietly and I needed some time to decided wether he was serious or not. And he was, I was pretty sure.
The way he towered over me, the way his beautiful eyes were filled with shame. I knew that he was genuinely sorry.

“It’s okay.”, I said, not louder than a whisper. My voice was calm and I felt weird.
They weren’t saying anything..

“Y/N, I try to understand… I am awfully sorry for what I said.”, Sherlock apologised and John looked at me, quite confused about Sherlock apologising.

“I know.”

C’mon guys we need better representation in the media

I know that this post might wind a few people up after all, why should a white woman call for more representation.  But while we still aren’t completely there on P.O.Cs showing up, or members of the LGBTQ (I’m probably missing a few letters there), or even religions, there aren’t enough disabled characters showing up anywhere.  I’m not asking for anything big, like a diabetic character screaming ‘OH NO I’VE GOT TO INJECT MORE INSULIN NOW’ or a flashing neon wheelchair, other examples are available.  For someone that grew up with four or five different conditions (sometimes it’s hard to remember the exact number of conditions), there weren’t really people like me on TV, at least not that I can remember.


For me I was very excited when I saw that scene in Mean Girls where Regina George has a Halo operation, because I’ve had 3 of those now (I’m twenty-four) and you couldn’t take the front bars out, Mum and my family put Disney stickers on the part that goes across your forehead because I was four the first time I had the Halo operation down and if you’re making a child wear something big and bulky like that for six months at a time, then you had damn well make it look a bit better.  I had my second and third halo operation done when I was eleven and fifteen respectively.

Originally posted by onthatmdp

Thankfully I wasn’t hit by a bus, (I was hit by a car at a different point in my life) two of my medical conditions (Morquio A and Scoliosis) made my upper spine and neck a bit er fragile.


Another of my medical conditions is called Tinnitus, which means I have a constant ringing in my ears 24/7.  It’s a bit like the ringing you get after you’ve been at a concert or club in a noisy environment.  To me it sounds a bit like one of those old school kettles constantly whistling.  So I perked up when The Hunger Games books and later movies mentioned the symptoms but it was on screen for probably less than 30 seconds.


When Glee first came out and there was a character in a wheelchair, I was tremendously excited.  Finally people would realise that there were people out there in wheelchairs.  

Originally posted by thankformakingmeafighter

Alas, the actor himself is not disabled, so I didn’t really know how to feel.  He couldn’t understand even the struggle of getting train tickets or in shops, even making everything accessible.  It was something at least.


One actor that I have always loved is the great Peter Dinklage, because he always seems like he really knows what he is talking about when it comes to his craft.

Originally posted by rkortez

In Game of Thrones (one of my favourite GIFs featuring Dinklage as Tyrion Lannister slapping Joeffrey Lannister Baratheon) the character gets such a hard time for being small, which I feel I can emphasise with because I too am tiny, 3 foot something, he gets called imp and such.  I’ve been called Midget before, so while I drove over the guys foot (in my electric wheelchair).


I could probably point out yet more examples of disability but for me the character Cass who was played by the lovely Sophie Stone.  Stone as a person is severely hard of hearing.  So she actually knows what it’s like to miss things when it comes to hearing queues. 

Originally posted by scriptscribbles

When my hearing aids come out at night I can’t really hear anything, I sometimes describe it as having my ears wrapped in cotton and the plasticine they use when they’re making new moulds for hearing aids.  That combined with the tinnitus means I always have some music playing if I can.  It can be so disorienting not being able to hear anything.


And finally my favourite show on the TV when it comes to disability.

The Last Leg which was started up by Channel 4 in the UK in 2012 for the London paralympics.  The show is presented by two guys with disability (Adam Hills and Alex Brooker) joined by as Adam is so pleased to remind us by the pride of Dartmoor, John Widdicombe.

Originally posted by nintendontdodrugs

It looks into everything going on it the world, the bigger issues and discusses them.  I have never laughed so hard at the show because it’s not tone-deaf when it comes to discussing disability.  Also Adam Hills (above) is funny and likes to give rants calling people dicks, people like Katie Hopkins, Donald Trump and of course there’s more.

Reblog if you would like Hollywood to remember that yes there are disabled people out there and you can find disabled actors.

Submission

LOL SRY

“Ugh!” Thomas stomped into the classroom with the rest of the class in tow, ringing out his curls. “I hate the rain!”
“It’s just a bit of water, mon ami!” Lafayette shook is head like a dog, wetting his friends around him. While the others groaned and began again to dry themselves off, John giggled as he wiped the drops off his face.
“Turtles like water!” He commented. “So they like rain. So I like the rain.”
like you,” Alexander went to hug his best friend, but decided to gingerly pat his shoulder instead upon realising that John was still soaking. This was in vain though, because John flung his arms around Alex in response and got him wet all over again. “John-!”

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My Beloved

 Written for @sherlockchallenge prompt for July - On the Tube

Summary:

“And it has backfired spectacularly – a slip of his tongue, which has raised Sherlock’s hackles and rendered the whole lot of Yarders tongue-tied and wide-eyed. The only advantage of this has been Anderson looking ill.”

“Sherlock…”

The man seated next to him didn’t answer. Since they have boarded the Tube, Sherlock has lapsed into a sullen silence and showed no sign of coming out of his sulk. John sighed. He really couldn’t blame his friend – he would have done the same in his stead.

Or rather he would have exploded as soon as they have left the crime scene, ranting at Sherlock until being left out of breath.

In the end, he thought, I would have gone shopping at Tesco, still huffing and puffing, and I’d have forgotten this…incident the next day.

Or not.

He sagged a little further into his plastic seat. Fortunately for him, who didn’t like the crowded, cramped places since Afghanistan and Sherlock’s mood, there were only a few people besides them in the carriage – a group of teenagers obviously playing truant and an old couple bickering over who was going to prepare what for supper.

“You’re so stubborn, Harold!” “Pot kettle, Martha.”

John couldn’t help but smile at this scene. They were reminding him of Sherlock and him – at least when his friend wasn’t doing his best to impersonate Mister-Warning-I’ll-bite-you-if-you-come-closer.

He glanced at Sherlock’s closed-off face.

Time for a second attempt. He waited for the train’s next stop – “Notting Hill Gate. Please mind the gap” – before repeating in a more pleading tone “Sher…”

The rest was lost in his throat when the train moved off again with a rush. John found himself being jostled directly towards Sherlock. He caught hold of the backrest just in time to stop himself from colliding with his friend.

Great. Just what I needed.

“Hum… Sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay, John. I knew you didn’t mean anything by that.”

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"Why are you in my bed?" (jswazz) part 1

I wake up to a very annoying buzzing noise that just wont stop. My head is pounding and this noise just isnt helping. I roll over onto my side and cover my head with my pillow hoping to be able to drown out the nose and to my surprise it works.

Not long after the buzzing noise is back and i grown loudly. Realizing its my phone i reach for it on the night stand and answer the call without bothering to check who it is.

“What do you want i was sleeping.” i groan into the phone and i hear a familiar chuckle.

“Wow y/n your grumpy in the morning. Did swazz not do you right last night? By the way where is he? He was supposed to meet me in the studio 2 hours ago.” Nate says to me and i groan again.

“Why in the world would i know where he’s at, it wasn’t my turn to babysit. Why dont you call him?” i ask him annoyed.

“I did call him, why dont you look and see who’s phone your on, and i figured you would know where he is since i caught y'all sucking face at the party last night.”

“What are you talking about Nate?”

I sit up and hold out the phone and confirm that it is indeed not mine. I look over and there is john laying stomach down in my bed, completely naked, with only some of the comforter covering his lower half and Im only in my my bra.

“What the actual fuck happened last night?” i ask out loud hoping Nate would be able to shine some light in on why my bestfriend is butt naked in my bed.

“I dont know for sure, the party was dying down and everyone had left. You and swazz was completely wasted in the kitchen making out so i left and caught a uber home. Do you not remember anything?”

By this point im freaking out because no, i remember nothing besides taking like a million shots and loosing 2 beer pong games. Everything after that is a blur.

“Nate I’ll have swazz call you later we have something important to talk about.” I hurry up and hang up on him before he has time to tell me anything else and i wake up swazz.

“John!” I shake his shoulder and he doesn’t budge. “John!!” I say much louder this time and he starts to mumble.

“Mhmm what baby” he says is in his raspy morning voice and i can’t deny how sexy he sounds. I shake my head to myself and remember the task at hand.

“John get up we need to talk!” I tell him in a worried voice. He rolls over onto his side so he’s facing me and he wraps his arm around my waist.

“What’s wrong?” he asks in a sweet tone

“Why are you in my bed… Naked? What happened last night?”

“You remember, we were playin beer pong and you kept telling me how you thought I was sexy.” he says to me as if I’m joking. I remove his arm from around me and pull the blanket up to cover myself.

“No, John I really don’t fucking remember a thing!” I yell at him with out realizing how mean that came out. Realizing that I’m being serious John sits up and stretches before looking me in my eyes.

“We were both really drunk after the last game of beer pong ended and everyone was basically gone by this point. We had been flirting the whole night so I though you didn’t mind what was happening. We were standing in your kitchen and i was telling you that I was too drunk to drive and i told you I should stay with you. I promise you consented to everything that happened and I swear I wouldn’t have even touched you if I knew exactly how drunk you were. I would never hurt you on purpose y/n! Honestly!” By time he’s done talking he’s out of breath and looking at me with worry in his eyes.

I groan to myself and rub my temples hoping to sooth the pain caused by my ridiculous hang over. Im trying so hard to remember something but I just keep drawing a blank.

“Baby are you mad at me?”

“Do you regret it?”

“Y/n talk to me please!” He says each sentence with out really giving me time to answer.

“No John I’m not mad I’m just confused. And how am I supposed to know if I regret it if I dont even know what happened!” I say through gritted teeth annoyed at the fact that he’s just not getting that I don’t even remember how we got in this situation.

I cover my ears with my hands hoping to shut out the world and possibly remember what happened.
__________

{10 hours earlier}

“Ha! You loose again Y/n!” Swazz yells at me over excitedly as the ping pong ball lands in my last cup meaning I lost 2 rounds of beer pong and he automatically wins our bet.

“You said 2 out of 3, I do believe you owe me a prise baby girl.” John sticks his tongue out and licks his lips seductively as he walks toward me while I back my self up to the counter.

The deal was whoever won got to do whatever they wanted, to the other person. John had been flirting with me and teasing me all night. I made the bet believing I would be able to win the beer pong game and i would finally be able to get him back for teasing me all night.

I invited the boys and some of my girlfriends over for a small get together to celebrate my sisters birthday, but all Nate had to do was send out a few texts before basically all of Los angeles was in my house.

Realizing I just fucked myself by backing myself in to a corner I sigh out loud.

” You don’t play fair at all y/n. You’ve been prancing around me in this short ass dress all night and you know what it’s doing to me.“ a small giggle escaped my lips because John has caught on to my little game.

Yes I’m not naive I can see the way he’s been looking at me since he arrived earlier and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t using it to my advantage. But John isn’t innocent either. All night he has been rubbing on my thighs and my butt and whispering dirty words in my ear every chance he got. I was the only girl he was worried about all night and that just gave me an ego boost.

John holds me by my side’s tightly and presses me into the kitchen counter so I cant go anywhere. Im drunk. There is no doubting that. But John has this hungry look on his face and I’m too excited to find out what he has on his mind to tell him to stop.

He places a wet kiss to my neck biting me lightly to tease me. I reach my arms up and wrap them around his neck. One of his hands reach down to my thighs right below where my dress stops. He uses one of his knees to separate my legs while he palms my thighs.

"You know, I think I’m a little to drunk to drive home. I should probably sleep here just to be safe.” he says in a deep tone of voice and winks at me while his hand slowly gets closer and closer to where I need him the most.

I nod my head at him silently answering his question. “Yes, I deffently dont want anything bad happing to you.” I tell him with a shaky voice.

John looks me up and down, from head to toe and curses under his breath “Y/n do you realise every guy at this party tonight wanted to see what was under this pretty little skirt of yours?” he asked me seductively and i shake my head ‘no’ at him.

“Well it’s true, I had to put a few of them in there place and let them known that if anyone was going to be seeing what was under this dress it was me.”

Ever so lightly he rubbed him palm along my clothed pussy. I moan lightly and gain some confidence to speak up.

“I didn’t realise that. You were the only guy I was worried about.” I scrape my nails along the hair line on his neck and he let’s out a growl.

Finally he starts to Palm me harder at my words and i grab him by his face and pull his lips to mine. I kiss him greedily and moan against his lips. He pulls my panties to the side and swiftly inserts a finger into my heat.

“God y/n your so wet.” he said barely audible. I can tell he’s extremely turned on by how turned on i am. He starts moving his finger in and out of me while doing a come here motion to rub against my g-spot. It feels so good and I’m finally getting some kind of relief relief but One finger isn’t enough for me.

I moan in his ear as his thumb comes in contact with my clit. “More John, please.” I am begging at this point.

He quickly removes his hand and stops all contact and I whine. He laughs and evil laugh and looks at me closely.

“You’ve been teasing me all night, your crazy if you think I’m going to let you get off that easily.”

He tugs my panties down my legs quickly and i step out of them. He reaches down and grips me from behind my knees and instructs me to jump and i do as I’m told.

He lifts me onto the counter top and stands between my legs. I can feel his boner pressed up against my thigh. He kisses me passionately for a minute before I hear a cough from behind us. I look over John’s shoulder to see Nate standing there awkwardly. He scratches the back of his neck and speaks up.

“I’m the last one here, everyone’s gone. Not that you really care.” he says stoping and starting again. “My uber is here, just wanted to let you know that the coast is clear so you can do whatever it is your doing.”

John groans angrily into my neck. “With all due respect Nate, get the fuck out!” he yells and i laugh lightly at him. Nate throws up his hands in defeat and laughs with me. Without saying anything else he’s out the door. As soon as John hears the door shut he’s spreading my legs and kissing my pussy with open mouth kisses. I moan loudly, not expecting that and wrap my hands in his hair.

“Im glad you let your hair grow back out. I like having something to pull on.” I say to him and he sucks in my clit harshly and I realize it’s his way of telling me to shut up.

He continues his torture to my clit and sticks two fingers inside of me rubbing at my g-spot. It doesn’t take long before I’m a writhing mess on my counter top. He looks up at me through hooded eyes and instructs me to cum and i do.

He stands up straight again and just holds me till i have come back from my orgasm. I reach up and pull his shirt up over his head and admire his tattoos. I always thought they made him just that much more sexier if that was possible. He unbuttons his pants and pulls them off. He pulls my dress up over my head so I’m left in my bra and he’s in his boxers.

“Here or the bedroom?” he asks me.

“Bedroom” I say quickly and before I know it he’s picking me up and heading towards my room. He throws me down onto the bed and crawls over me. He starts kissing me again, and I find his boxers and Palm him through them ever so lightly just like he did to me.

A/n: if you know me then you know I can never right a simple smut and it always goes over the character limit. If this gets good feed back I’ll post part 2 tonight 😈

I should take them off, shouldn’t I?

Pure smut for @for-the-love-of-dean, as a very belated birthday fic.

John x named!reader, the reader is called Amanda ‘cause this is for her.

Amanda prompted me with this line: “My eyes are the only thing I don’t want to take off of you.”

And I worked in this excellent NSFW imagine by @manawhaat, who kindly and amazingly agreed to beta this utter filth.

Warnings: NSFW gif below the cut, smut, dom!John, sub!reader, super light bondage, little bit of praise!kink, edging, sir!kink, unprotected sex (wrap up in real life guys).

Tags: @jinnythegreat @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @katnharper @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @deandoesthingstome @adriellej @crowley-trash @kittenofdoomage @aprofoundbondwithdean @sunriserose1023 @crzcorgi @classy-sassyandsmartassy @mrswhozeewhatsis @faith-in-dean @icecream-and-gadreel

Originally posted by elbereth-g

“The shoes are too much, right?” You looked yourself up and down in the mirror of the motel room, before looking over your shoulder at John,“I should take them off, shouldn’t I?” You motioned to your feet. You were certain as you said it, you didn’t need heels to bait a werewolf, the dress made you irresistible all on it’s own. It was a sexy little number, a deep shade of midnight blue that hugged your curves and revealed your toned legs. Those legs that served you well as a hunter didn’t need heels to stand out. Besides, if you had to run, flats were a much better option, and during your first hunt with the legendary Winchester, you didn’t want to risk anything and make a fool of yourself.

His hazel eyes, clouded with hunger, scanned your form from where he sat at the table, plastic cup of whiskey in his hand, his gun freshly oiled and polished on the table in front of him. John’s jaw clenched, his grasp tightening around the cup he’d surely crush if he kept on squeezing.

“Sweetheart,” his gruff voice rumbled from deep in his firm chest, "my eyes are the only thing I don’t want to take off of you.”

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