why are you looking at me that way john

Horizon Zero Dawn and Cultural appropriation: A very different view.

For the first time EVER, I’m sitting on the other side of a discussion about appropriating native culture.  Why?  Well, let me lay the framework.

First off, I’m not a guy who “knows a Native American” or has a “Native friend”  I am a 100% Anishinabe (Ojibway) dude who lives on reserve and has fought racism, stereotypes, pan-Indianism, and cultural appropriation fiercely for as long as I can remember. I’ve been the victim of horrendous racial violence as a child, adolescent, and adult, and I’m also a gamer.

I am the first to point out anything that smacks of any of the above and after I saw the Dia Lacina essay on “Horizon: Zero Dawn” being culturally insensitive and appropriating Native culture, I felt for the first time in a situation like this that I had to say something in rebuttal.

Lacina takes issue with the use of the words Tribal, Primitive, Braves, and Savage being used in the game (fyi they’re used to describe predominantly white people in game and they’re White words we didn’t use to describe ourselves thus I claim no ownership of, nor want to, anymore than I want to be a redskin, Indian or Wahoo)  

It seems (IMO) that most of her beef comes from an apparent belief that numerous aspects of generic tribal culture that appear in the game (making clothing from skins, hunting with spears and bows, living in a Matriarchal society, etc) are the sole domain of the Native American and just to be safe and cleverly keep her POV less subject to scrutiny, she applies it even more broadly to indigenous people world wide (I will just refer to us in particular as NA cuz I’m lazy and I also don’t refer to myself as a Native American) and basically that anything that is remotely “tribal” shouldn’t be used in gaming without our or someone else’s permission.

 In fairness, I don’t know if she’s actually played the game but as someone who is currently in the midst of doing exactly that, I can tell you that I have a pretty good idea of what stuff triggered her being upset and why, and while I absolutely respect her right to get offended by whatever she likes, and she makes excellent points about some other games, I am going to point out that there are flaws with this logic.

First of all, the basics: HZD is set in a post-post-apocalyptic future where people are living in tribal groups in a very destroyed world.  Machines exist but as hybrid animal/dinosaur type creatures and technology is pretty much non-existent in day to day human life.  

The heroine of the story is a red haired, white girl named Aloy who lives as an outcast with her adopted father, Rost.  Without giving a lot away, they are fiercely shunned by the local tribe for something Rost did and also the fact that Aloy is motherless.  

Impressively and rightly, though somewhat dismissively remarked upon by Lacina, is the way women and especially women of color are portrayed so positively in-game as this particular tribe is a total Matriarchy run by elders of various ethnicity.  African, Asian, White, and a variety of undefined people of color are common everywhere in the game.  (The leader of one band of warriors is a very fierce, commanding, intelligently portrayed black woman with a powerful presence.)  It reflects a fairly global society from a “skin color” perspective without any horrible accents or broken speech.

They worship an “All-Mother” goddess and their culture is (at least how I saw a lot of it) fairly heavy on European i.e. Celtic, Germanic, Scandinavian, etc type symbolism and the rest is filled in with mostly generic tribal-ish stuff that you could find in countless cultures around the world.

 I really didn’t get a “Native American” vibe off the game.  Of course, I don’t automatically presume to claim sole ownership of things like tribal life, hunting with bows and spears, and worshiping spirits of various elements solely for my own.  Random fact: Because there are over 500 distinct First Nations in N. America, we, believe it or not, didn’t all ride horses, live in tipis, use bows and arrows, tobacco and sage, and worship Eagles and Wolves.  Why? Well…use your brain.  Tobacco and Sage don’t grow EVERYWHERE, horses came over with the Europeans (and if you saw where I live you couldn’t have and cant for the most part get a horse through the bush if you tried) Eagles and Wolves don’t live EVERYWHERE….get the point?  Anyways….

If you examine Rost, he like most of the men has a braided beard and other seemingly Viking/Middle Ages inspired features, is white, speaks clear, unbroken English, and is a loving, protective and very positive role model for the girl.   Aloy for her part, is also fairly Viking-esque (to the point of looking incredibly like Lagaertha from the show Vikings but with red hair) also Egrit from GoT, and is no damsel in distress who needs men to save her. NOWHERE in the game have I encountered any Tipis, wigwams, Sweatlodges, or Non-White people speaking in stereotypical “Me smoke-um peace pipe, He go dat-a way” fashion.

The  opening cinematic is very touching (and long) as we see the orphaned Aloy as a baby in Rost’s care being carried around in a bundle on his back (which pretty much every culture did in one form or another at some point in time) and him ultimately taking her to the spot where a child of the tribe receives it’s name.

I really liked this idea as it isn’t often portrayed in a lot of mediums outside of stereotypical “Dances With Wolves” bullshit. Also, naming ceremonies are not the sole domain of NA people and what occurs bears zero resemblance to any NA ceremony I know of.  (It was actually a little Lion King at one point lol) But it’s a powerful moment in the beginning with much more that occurs during it but I won’t spoil that either.

Aloy herself is a pretty complex character.  She’s extremely independent, defiant, and questions pretty much everything about why things are the way they are and wants to do something about it.  You actually begin playing her as a 6 year old which is pretty unique and even then she’s tough and fearless and determined to explore her world.  

She is in no way hyper-sexualized (I’m looking your way Overwatch) Her clothing and everyone else’s, is utilitarian and appropriate for the environments she lives in, and so far, I have not encountered anything with her or any other character that made me go “WTF?”and trust me, my radar for that shit is HIGHLY SENSITIVE.  This isn’t Avatar, people.  It’s not John Smith. It’s not The Great Wall or Pocahontas.  This isn’t white dude shows up and saves the helpless non-white people while helpless native woman falls in love with him stuff.  It’s a fictitious future where we maniacs blew it up, damn us all to hell!

But here’s the more annoying thing for me as an actual Anishinabe.  I don’t need people speaking for me or getting offended on my behalf.  I am very capable of doing that myself. I am also in no way writing this claiming to be speaking for any other NA people or persons. It’s based on my observations from actually playing HZD and examining the various fictional “cultural” elements in the game.

If you see a skin tied inside a hoop and automatically assume it’s a dreamcatcher” ripping off “our culture” (FYI Dreamcatchers are a 20th century thing whose popularity was a result of pan-Indianism that exploded in the 70s.) or if you see feathers on a spear or as part of a costume (nowhere is anyone wearing a single eagle feather in the back of a beaded headband or a Dakota looking headdress either) and automatically presume it to be ripping off NA culture, you’re REEEEEEEEEEALY reaching.  If you think caring for the environment, obeying matriarchs, worshipping elemental spirits, or making your own clothes is solely the property of NA culture, see previous statement.

By all means get offended.  Get offended by Chief Wahoo.  Get offended by the Washington Redskins.  Get offended that thousands of Native women have been murdered or gone missing and nothing’s been done about it.  Get offended by Johnny Depp or Robert Beltran playing Native people instead of actual Native people getting those roles.  Get offended by shit like Adam Sandler’s “Ridiculous 6” where a native woman is called a “hot piece of red prairie meat” or Depp’s “Lone Ranger” movie.

Get offended that my family was destroyed by the Residential Schools and that the 60s scoop took babies away from their families and people, that forced sterilizations took place and mass graves of dead Native children exist at former Residential School sites.

Don’t just jump on the I’m offended bandwagon because you saw some feathers or skins or spears or bows in a game and immediately grew indignant and wanted to claim them as OUR culture.  They’re not.  They’re almost globally universal in numerous cultures at various points in time.  Get offended, as she rightly mentioned, when the game Overwatch sexualizes the shit out of almost every female character and takes West Coast tribal art and makes a costume out of it.  

THAT is appropriation.  White people holding powwows in Europe (powwows are also pretty much not traditional and are extremely pan-Indian, not to mention full of us appropriating each other’s Native cultures ie. Dakotas wearing Jingle Dresses, Ojibway wearing Dakota regalia, etc) is appropriation.

This game……I’m just not seeing it the same way.  And I’m nobody.  I have no ties to Guerilla or anybody other than myself and my community.

wallsofgoo  asked:


first of all… 5? this how i know the devil is real… but anyway lets get into it.

5) John at the Graham Norton show. listen..a sweater+a suit jacket (in deep fall colors) was enough but what pushed this over from “i just look this good” to “fry an egg on me” is the hair - the fade, the lineup, the LINE on the side. 

4) The Queen of Katwe London Premiere. I love me some John in print. I love me some John reminding me he’s Nigerian.

3) BAFTAs. Even when he’s wearing classic colors he does it big. Why settle for boringass matte black when you can go velvet.

2)Promoing TFA - random place. The look that changed me. The long coat, the shades, fitted jeans, all black, the way he’s standing, one hand in his pocket, gazing to the side, serving LOOKS. this look changed me as a PERSON. i went from a northface jacket kinda girl to wearing on sale matte brown coats from zara.

1) TFA Premiere. Are you surprised? You’re not. The day he reminded all these regular-degular hoes at the premeire w/him that HE was the ONE. he told us finn was gonna be a jedi with this look. he came into my house on this day to wipe away my tears w/his one gloved hand, slick down my edges, steal me from star trek and i embraced him into my heart as my main. i actually didnt know sw existed before this look and really…did anyone?

Sometimes John and Sherlock accidentally talk all night.

Like maybe the intention to go to sleep at a normal time was there, but then they get distracted.

11 PM: They finish the movie and it just naturally feels like time for bed. Teeth are cleaned, doors are locked, and they settle in between the sheets, and damn is the bed comfortable compared to the haphazard dog pile of limbs they had gotten into on the sofa.

“What did you think of the film?”

“Nice; very enjoyable.”

“Did I tell you it was my favorite when I was a kid?”

“No. Really?”

“Yeah. Would watch it on repeat.”

“Interesting. But it’s no longer your favorite?”

“Right. I dunno- I still love it, but not in the same way.”

“I understand. Your favorite now is that one Bond, um…Die Another Day?”

“Yeah.” John gives Sherlock a small, soft smile. He looks almost bewitched.

“What’s that look for?”

“It’s for you. ”

“Yes, but why?”

“Because it’s really nice to have someone remember things like that about me.”

1 AM: The discussion has shifted to favorites, and why they’re favorites.

“So you would rather listen to that same Rolling Stones album again and again for eternity than ever even trying something like Debussey?”


“Alright, well, now I know.”

“You know what?”

“That we’re breaking up.”

They laugh.

2 AM: …and now they’re just naming things they like.

John: “Long car journeys”

Sherlock: “The smell of coffee.”

“You hate coffee.”

“I hate the taste of coffee.”

“You are a complex being.”

“Thank you.”

They laugh some more.

John: “Rainy mornings that last all day.”

“Me too.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“They’re lovely.”

“Why’s that?”

Sherlock fidgets with his lips, trying to figure out how to phrase his answer.

“Because you always wake me very…pleasantly… and often you continue waking me pleasantly for most of the morning…afternoon…even into the evening sometimes.”

“Do I? When it’s raining?”

“Yes. Not every time, but under a certain set of conditions I can, for the most part, look at the forecast for the morning the night before and know in advance whether or not I’ll be getting anything done the next day.”

John looks back at him, a concoction of surprise, then near embarrassment, then a sly smile.

“Interesting, see, I find that I get one thing in particular done consistently on those days.”

Sherlock snorts.

4 AM: The topic has shifted between worst hangover stories and crazy uni memories to some more difficult things, like John’s time in the service, and Sherlock’s addiction.

“We’ve sort of been dealt a few tough hands eh?”


“Makes me want to take you away somewhere and just be relaxed for a bit.”

“I would agree to that in an instant.”

“Yeah? Let’s do that, then.”

“Fantastic idea!”

“I do get them on occasion.”

More laughter.

5 AM:

John is trying to work in to the concersation something he’s been wanting Sherlock to know for a long time. It’s difficult, though- he’s never really said anything like this- anything so personal.

“It says a lot about you, I think, that I can do things like this- stay awake all night, not having to be overwhelmed or rampant. You balance me, John.”

“Yeah..yeah I- I know what you mean. You also- I mean, you sort of…I don’t dread…my life to come…anymore. I used to think of all the days and years I had left to endure, wonder how I would fill them, hoping I could find something that wouldn’t feel so miserable, something to settle for, but you- fuck, Sherlock, I think back to that now and it feels like a horrible nightmare. I’m…more than just glad, to have found you. You- damn, this is hard, I-”

Sherlock ties his fingers with John’s and moves even closer.

"Take your time. No rush. No pressure. Anything you want to tell me, you can. You’re safe here.”

"I suppose…You umm…you made me rethink- my plans, for me, yes. But not only that, you also showed me a way of living so different from what I had known, so much better and full of richness, I look back at those days where I no longer wanted to be alive and think -it’s probably because I wasn’t alive. I had every responsibility and felt every drawback of life but was denied any of the good stuff. You showed me so much more than I ever knew was out there- you sort of saved my life by…showing me how to live it? That’s so cheesy, I-”

And now Sherlock is crying. So John starts crying.

6 AM: they’ve got themselves together by now and moved on to something a little lighter.

"Right…so, you mean to tell me that James Moriarty, criminal mastermind, scary man with an affinity for the latest in explosive fashion, still sleeps with a teddy bear?”


"How did you figure that one out?”

"It took a few-visits- to piece it together, mostly because I was in disbelief myself, but he shows signs of a stiff neck as if he sleeps in an extremely bent position with one arm hooked partially under himself, likely around a small item. Persistence of this soreness shows that he didn’t just sleep wrong once, he makes a habit of this position. But what really sealed the realization was the right thumbnail. Much shorter than all the others, wrinkled texture, dry skin around the edges where the rest of his finers are immaculately manicured. Exposed to moisture for long periods of time.”

"No fuckin way!”

"Oh yes. He sucks his thumb. What a terrifying creature.”

Hysterical laughter.

"I’m always curious what you could tell about me right away and what took you a bit longer.”

That’s a dangerous path John- not everyone wants to know what others can tell about them.”

"Yeah but I’m just tired enough to ask anyway.”

"Well, all the things I pointed out at Bart’s…then more and more about your childhood based on your dating habits…around a month after we moved in I had narrowed down the approximate size of your…tyre lever…”


"Well…I had underestimated, to be honest. Your stature is misleading, as I’m sure you know.”-

"So, that is to say, you were-”

"Incredibly anxious and then surprised in the best possible way.”

"I was going for ‘not disappointed’, but alright.”

"Not in the slightest. My God, not even a little. In fact, what’s the opposite of disappointed?”


"More than.”



7 AM: Talking has ceased. The sun seeps in at the sides of the drapes, pale and gray. It’s a bit chilly, but neither know- it’s aafe and warm in the bubble of their room.

Neither sleep until around noon, after tea and toast in bed- the rain hits the roof in steady droves, tapping occasionally at the window if the wind blows a certain way.

Sherlock gets absolutely no work done.

endless reasons to love dean winchester

his adaptability

Team-player Dean is not something we see a lot. But we clearly see here, in Hollywood Babylon, Dean can collaborate as well as lead, which has been his defacto role ever since John died (and when John was absent during his childhood). But look at how easily, and how well, Dean takes on this new role. How much he enjoys it. How adaptable he is. I love the way he carves a space for himself here, makes connections with people and just honestly loves it. 

tell me why you love dean 

Experiment #5 - Request

Requested by the sinners and anons:  -For your experiment series, what if one of the experiments is that sherlock doesn’t think that people can “get off” by dry humping and so he makes the reader rude his thigh! 
-I have a suggestion for the next experiment- sherlock x reader. Its where sherlock points out that he’s not just using the reader’s body… And their relationship gets a label. (Still not getting the label, though)

Pairing: Sherlock x reader

Word count: 1779

Warnings: Smut - dry humping, implied toy play -

A/N: I feel like we’re getting closer to an end so… Yeah, I was planning to mix two requests in here but figured it woudl last longer if I didn’t. Such a tease…


Originally posted by xthismeanswar

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

“What are we?”

He was finally asking that question, and it wasn’t because he wanted to but because he had to.

“(Y/N), what are we?” He insisted.

“I don’t know… Colleagues, I suppose.” (Y/N) whispered. She turned her gaze away, unable to think straight for as long as her eyes and Sherlock’s were locked together. “This was supposed to be only an experiment, and that was it.”

Keep reading

You and I (1)

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Words: 3308

Warnings: Smol Angst..Smut..Cursing..Metal Arm!!

Summary: You broke up with your boyfriend and you try to distract yourself by listening to loud music and cleaning your room. Bucky lives on the same floor as you and hears the music. Curiosity gets the best of him.

A/N: I’m still shit at summaries. I honestly think this obsession with Bucky’s arm and hair is just going too far but what the hell!! Use protection people. Better safe than surprised! Still new to smut writing…so ya! Leave comments pwetty pwease. Send me a message if you want to be tagged in anything.

Permanent Tag List:  @meganlane84 @mizzzpink @bringmetheemobands @kimistry27 @fireandicewillsuffice @vacam79 @amrita31199

Next Part

Originally posted by fandomnationwhore

Keep reading

I Will Personally Put You In This Morgue! (Sherlock)

Request: Sherlock x reader. The reader has a prosthetic leg. Anderson calls her a freak 

Warning(s): prosthetic leg (obviously, if that even is a warning), slight language, insults 

Word Count: 1,589 (geez) 

Reader Gender: Female (if this was supposed to be male/nonbinary PLEASE TELL ME AND I WILL FIX IT) 

Authors Note: SO SO SO SORRY ON HOW LATE THIS IS! I’ve had a lot of schoolwork and I’ve been out, but here it is. It was also a little challenging to write so I hope I did it correctly. I hope you like this, anon. :) Personally I can’t stand Anderson so I love this. 

Another Authors Note: This takes place in “The Great Game” (s1e3) for reference. I tried to get it as close as possible, but I did have to change it up some for the request. :) 

“He’s not gay! Why do you have to spoil-he’s not!”

That’s what I hear as I step into the room. I see Molly standing at the end of a table. Sherlock is at the other end looking into a microscope, with John behind him. I had been outside of the building talking to Lestrade about the case, when John texted me, telling me to come in. Apparently, he had done that so that he would not be alone when this argument went down. Really, I had to walk all the way down here for this? 

“With that level of personal grooming?” Sherlock says, snorting. It comes off as a question, but I know he doesn’t mean it that way. He looks up from the microscope, and glances at me. His hand moves to gesture toward an empty chair, and I accept gratefully. I hope I’m not blushing too much at him helping me. 

“Because he puts a bit of product in his hair?” John asks, “I put product in my hair.” I giggle at how offended he looks. 

“You wash your hair,” Sherlock responds, “there’s a difference.” He turns to Molly. “No,no - tinted eyelashes; clear signs of taurine cream around the frown lines; those tired clubber’s eyes. Then there’s his underwear.” 

“His underwear?” Molly looks dumbfounded, raising her eyebrows as she speaks. I look at him too, wondering where he’s going with this. 

”Visible above the waistline – very visible; very particular brand,” He says, leaning toward the Petri dishes. He pulls out a slip of paper, then says: 

“That, plus the extremely suggestive fact that he just left his number under this dish her…and I’d say you’d better break it off now and save yourself the pain.” Damn. At least he’s thorough. Molly runs out of the room, and I turn to Sherlock. 

“Charming,” I say, rolling my eyes. Even though they’re blunt, I think it’s amazing how he is able to make his deductions. But, people get hurt sometimes. He looks over his shoulder at me. 

“Isn’t it kinder to save her the time?” He asks, and I shake my head. He shrugs and looks over to John. He points to the shoes, the actual case itself. 

“Off you go,” he says to John. The man looks surprised, but picks up the shoes to attempt to get as much information as possible. Sherlock gets up, walks over, and sits down next to me. 

“I still don’t quite understand how you manage to walk so well on that leg,” he says. His voice is slow, as if he’s trying not to offend me. Strange, I think, with others he wouldn’t care. I look over at him and shrug. 

“I’ve gotten used to it,” I say as I place my hand on the prosthetic. As I do, my mind goes back to the accident. Riding in the taxi, when another car runs into the side. My leg pinned, people trying to get me out, but I couldn’t. The pain, the excruciating pain all in my leg. When people finally got me out and got me to the hospital, only to be told I’d have to lose my leg. The grief that followed. 

A hand on my shoulder brings me back to reality. I look to see Sherlock looking at me. Maybe I’m imagining it, but I swear I saw concern all over his face. As I start to say something, the door opens. In walks Lestrade and the rest of the team, including the irritating Anderson. 

“Find anything?” Lestrade asks. He looks at John, but we all know the question is for any of us. Sherlock jumps up and walks to John. 

“Tell me what you’ve found, doctor,” Sherlock says. John starts rattling off different things to do with the shoes. I get up to go look at the Petri dish still under the microscope’s eye. As I walk over, I can feel eyes on me. People always look at me strangely, due to the way I walk, so it doesn’t faze me much. I sit down at the microscope and look into it, only for someone pull on my wrist. I look over, annoyed at being drawn away from the case, and see Anderson.

Stupid prick. I roll my eyes and pull my arm out of his grasp. When I head for the microscope, he pulls it away from me. Reaching to grab it, I step off of the stool. Thanks to my prosthetic, however, I lose my balance and have to grab onto the counter to stay upright. He smirks at me, then gets up in my face.

 “You’re pathetic, Y/N,” he sneers, “and a freak. You can’t do anything on your own. You think you’re smart but you’re as smart as a rock. Why don’t you do us a favor and hobble out of here, and let the professionals handle this?” I sit there, shocked into silence. The words cut through me like razors, and I fight back tears. 

Then, I hear a calm, but deadly voice. 

“John, take Y/N out please,” Sherlock says. “Everyone else out, except for Anderson.” I see Lestrade start to protest, but after seeing the look in his eyes, stays quiet. John walks over to me, and offers his arm. I accept, and he doesn’t complain when I put a lot of weight on him. He knows what Anderson said, and he understands that it hurt. Once we get out, I head to a bench. I sit down and put my face in my hands. Don’t cry, don’t cry. Then, I jump as I feel an arm around me. 

“Sorry,” John moves his arm. I shake my head. 

“It’s okay, just wasn’t expecting it,” I respond, “some comfort would be nice at the moment, actually.” He puts his arm back around me, and I lean in. Then, the yelling starts. 


I stare in disbelief at John. His eyes are wide, and he stands up. I realize then that my face has gotten hot. I stand up, being careful this time as to not lose my footing. Lestrade comes over to me, and places a hand on my back to guide me to the door of the room. He leans down towards my ear. 

“Just so you know, this means Sherlock likes you,” he whispers. I look at him, not knowing what to say. He sighs, then whispers: “That means you should ask him to dinner, then.” 

I open my mouth but once again say nothing, being met with a smirk by John. He knew this entire time, I think. We walk back into the morgue to see Anderson on the floor, unconscious. There’s blood on his face, from being hit by Sherlock. I look over at where he is sitting. I see something different in his eyes, something I’ve never seen before. John goes to him and whispers something to Sherlock. After, he motions for everyone to leave. As I start to walk out, John puts his hand on my shoulder. 

“Not you,” he says, smiling softly. He leaves, and I turn back to Sherlock. He looks back at me, then at his hands. They’re covered in blood. I walk to a sink in the corner of the morgue, and wet a cloth. Sitting down next to him, I put the cloth over his knuckles and hold it. He looks at me. 

“Thank you, Y/N,” he says quietly. I smile a little. 

“No, thank you, Sherlock,” I reply, “for defending me. You didn’t have to.” 

“That pig deserved every bit of it,” he responds quickly. “Besides, you should never have to hear all of those lies.” I feel my face heat up again. 

“Lestrade said I should buy you dinner to thank you,” I proceed cautiously.

“That would be lovely,” he says. I look at him to say something else, then notice that I’m only a few inches away from his face. Sherlock sees it the same time I do, and I know he can tell what I’m thinking. Yet, I’m still surprised when he leans in. I close my eyes, and our lips meet. The kiss is light, as if he’s afraid he will scare me off. Yet, there’s so much there, the sense that he deeply cares for me, but in a different form than how he cares for John. 

When we pull away, we sit there for a moment. Then, Sherlock starts to smile, and I start to laugh a little. He takes the cloth and throws it across the room. Instead of an arm, he offers his hand to me. I take it, and we walk over Anderson and out of the room. As we step out of the building, all I can think is, I can’t believe I just kissed Sherlock in a morgue, and my leg didn’t get in the way.

anonymous asked:

Prompt: if John had been resurrected instead of Mary.

He’s never seen his boys look at him quite like that. Or each other, for that matter. His hands tremble when he lifts his cup of coffee to his lips and drinks, and while it feels good to have something hot inside him, feels like it’s anchoring him here, he can’t shake off the feeling that he doesn’t quite belong, that he should be… somewhere else.

And his boys? God, what the years have done to them.

It’s been a mess of a few days. First, he was at the hospital - after that comes a blank, a void that feels like it still calls for him. Then, suddenly, he was there again, standing on a lawn in the middle of the night, staring at his son as a man much older and worn than he last saw him. From there onwards, it’s only gotten worse: chases mix with angels and secret societies, torture with magical healing. His head is spinning.

“How are you feeling, Sam?” he asks from the man across the table, a man who is so different from the boy he sent to fetch him a cup of coffee the moment his deal was due.

He seems broader now. Taller, even, if that’s possible. He’s got longer hair and eyes that have seen it all. Chapped pink lips with just enough space between them to let a sigh through.

“I’m - I’m fine, Dad.”

He is not fine, but neither is Dean, and neither is John. As if sensing this, Dean moves closer to his brother - he’s chosen to have his own coffee upright, as if to make sure that nothing else touches Sam. Well, some things haven’t changed, at least.

A brief silence replaces the tense conversation, but only for a few moments. Then John places his cup down and clears his throat.
“I want you boys to catch me up on everything that I’ve missed.”

“Can’t it wait?” Dean asks him.
He’s always been this way, more anxious than Sam, constantly longing for peace and quiet. It seems that in this place, he may have finally gotten to experience some of it. The way he moves in this place, the way he treats it, it’s like he’s found home here.

John lets his eyes trace the large room. It’s a funny home.

“I know you’re tired,” he says then, moving his gaze back to his boys who look just about ready to crash, “but I need to know. Why don’t we start with something easy and continue from there later? Tell me how you found this place.”

The brothers exchange looks, and finally, Dean seats himself next to Sam. He looks at John and considers his words for a moment.

“Yeah, about that,” he says in a careful voice, “It all starts with you, actually.”

John lifts his brows.

“Or - your father,” Sam corrects, and Dean nods.

“Yeah. So you might want to strap in. There’s a lot more to our family than you ever knew, Dad.”

Clearing his throat, John lifts his cup back to his lips.
“Fill me in, then.”

Fragments - Part 2

Word Count: 6682

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Canon typical violence

A/N: Constructive feedback always welcome and appreciated. Unedited. All mistakes are mine. If you’d like to be tagged you can add yourself Here

Fragments Masterlist

Cas had managed to get details from the getaway driver for the people who took Sam. It wasn’t much but it was something to go on. You’d found out they were British and had just flown into the country the same night they took Sam. He also told you he drove them to a local veterinarian but didn’t know why. Dean was off checking the tail number of the plane. Cas was checking into the Vet. Mary and you were sitting at a table in a park outside of the Vet’s practice, waiting for him to show back up.

You weren’t speaking, opting to watch Mary. Everyone had been so worried about you and your memory issue then about Sam disappearing they hadn’t paid much attention to her and how she was adjusting. She was watching everyone, staring at the cell phones and the laptops. She looked just as lost as you felt. You didn’t remember your life, but you remembered what life was like. You remembered phones, computers, technology, how to use everything. All of that was still there. You couldn’t imagine how she felt, being dumped 33 years into the future with a dead husband and two grown sons.

“Are you ok? I know how I feel. It must be a lot for you to take in.” Mary turned to you, smiling sweetly and nodding her head just as Cas approached carrying coffees, passing one to each of you. “Thanks, Cas.”

“It’s how you like it.” Cas said, sitting in the chair next to yours. “Or how you used to like it.” You took a sip and hummed in satisfaction, earning a smile from Cas.

“This must be difficult for you.” Cas said, turning toward Mary, apparently picking up on the same thing you had. “I remember my first moments on Earth. It was jarring.”

“One word for it.” She laughed. “I grew up with hunters. I’ve heard of coming back from the dead…but to actually do it after 30 years…a lot’s changed.” She glanced around again, looking at everyone on their phones. “A lot.”

“Y/N what about you? Are you holding up ok?” Cas questioned. “I can’t really get a read on you. Then again…I guess I never really could.” He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “You were always a mystery to me.”

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Office Affair - Request

Requested by anon: could you do a fluffy reader x sherlock and sherlock is really fluffy and needy and dirty in front of john/mycroft? 
& anon: hey hey could you do a one shot where Sherlock and reader are getting jiggy ;) and her boss Mycroft walks in and gets really embarrassed

Pairing: Sherlock x reader

Word count: 1.079

Warnings: Touchy/Handsy Sherlock, Mentions of drugs, Public Display of Affection, Embarrassing things.

A/N: What does “getting jiggy” mean? I think I got it right but I ask just for the sake of learning new words. (Yes, this week is the week of using slang Becca doesn’t understand)


Originally posted by lovershub

Office work, the worse kind of work. The sound of the other employees typing, and the many colours of the computer screen she was forced to work in, plus the awful smell of chlorine on the floor was enough to make her dizzy.

Yes, she had her own office, and it was supposed to be private, but the walls were ultra-thin, as a way to keep control of employees, so she could hear everything from the outside.

Everything, she could hear everything, even the silence that built in the office when a strange set of footsteps walked down the hallway to her office. She recognised them instantly and tried to brainwash herself to keep a straight face the whole time and act professionally.

As soon as he entered, that idea went down the toilet.

His high cheekbones and cheeky smile contrasted with the long, black coat he was wearing. His blue eyes matched the blue scarf tied around his neck, and a few strands of curly hair fell over his pale face.

“Sherlock.” She sighed lovingly.

“Hello, my darling.” He granted her a big smile and walked around her desk to press a kiss on her lips. “You look so high functional sitting on this chair, dressed like that…” He whispered above her lips, but before he continued another person cleared his throat.

It was John Watson, standing there with the usual “I’m sick of this rubbish” look on his face.

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'The Fall'

Summary: What if the one threatened by Jim Moriarty on the rooftop were you and not Sherlock?

Pairing: Sherlock x Reader

Title: ‘The Fall’

Content: Tetralogy / First Chapter / Action / Angst 

Warning: If you haven’t seen the second season of Sherlock, please do NOT read this one-shot. (Unless spoilers don’t bother you.)

Word count: 2.245

A/N: This…this was a big challenge for me. A really big one. I had never mentioned ‘The Reichenbach Fall’ in any of my one-shots/drabbles/imagines. In fact, the chills always get me, that’s why I always try to skip that part, but this time was like: ‘Get the hell with it. I’m going to write it down.’

‘The Fall: I Want To Find You’ [Second Chapter]

The Fall: Together Again’ [Third Chapter]

*gif not mine

 “This is serious. God, this is serious,” John exclaimed panicking.

“Of course it’s serious, John. We can’t find her!” he shouted desperately. “Moriarty is playing games with us, can’t you see?” He turned around to face John.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Second opinion. I need a second opinion, John,” he said in panic but his friend looked down and shook his head.

Sherlock was running out of patience. There was no time, no second opinions, no signs, not even a clue.

His heart was beating faster; he could feel adrenaline running through his veins, his mind was out of control. He didn’t know many things about Moriarty or your whereabouts. The only thing he knew was that the woman, who he wanted to propose to, was missing.

Five hours ago, you’ve been on your way to Scotland Yard. Lestrade needed your help with this ‘Moriarty’ case. You already knew that you were not capable of solving this case and that you’d have to call Sherlock, but Greg was your boss and since you were replacing Donovan you had to do what you were told.

Of course you knew about this little game of theirs, but you have never thought you were to become part of it. Kidnapping you was maybe Moriarty’s best way to get Sherlock’s attention. And it was obvious,  the consulting criminal was not going to play this game easily. Not with Sherlock.

Sending him messages, codes, calls or even paying Sherlock a visit was not enough for him. He needed to twist this game a little bit more. Why not kidnapping Sherlock’s girlfriend? Why not?

Jim Moriarty, the consulting criminal, was wearing a smart suit and overcoat as he was calmly sitting on the raised ledge at the edge of the roof with his phone in his hand while The Bee Gees’ “Stayin’ Alive” played from it.

“So here we are, darling. You and me,” he laughed as you kept standing in front of him.”Stayin’ alive, isn’t it so boring?”

You frowned trying to decode what did he wanted to say. You were afraid, of course, but you’ll never blame your boyfriend about this. It was not all his fault, after all,  the one who wanted to play games was Moriarty, Sherlock just wanted to end with this.

“It’s just…” he said. “…staying.”

You glared at him but he grinned and laughed in amusement.

“Ironic, isn’t it?”

“Ironic what?” You inquired as you kept your eyes on Jim, who was pacing around you with a smile on his face.

“You getting involved with our final problem,” he says as he held his phone higher. “You know all my life I’ve been searching for distractions. Your boyfriend, the great Sherlock Holmes, was the best distraction and now I don’t even have him. Because I’ve beaten him. And you know, in the end it was easy,” he stated in a scary and chilling way.

Your head turned sharply again as he kept walking around you.

You were losing your hopes. It was almost impossible for Sherlock to deduce that Moriarty was threatening you on the St. Bart’s rooftop. You knew that he was the smartest person in the whole world but this, this was challenging. And when it came to challenges, like catching this criminal, he needed time but there was no more left. You considered yourself dead by then.

“It was really easy. Now I’ll have to go and play games with ordinary people. That’s no fun, is it?” He scared you more, Was he going to kill Sherlock? “And it turns that he’s ordinary too just like all of them.”

You were still shut up but your face said it all. You were confronting the devil itself. Jim stopped, lowered his head, shook it, rubbed his face and then started to pace around you again.

“What if he finds you and kills you?” You asked in a low but serious voice.

“Oh, no, no, no, this is too easy,” he smiled. “This is too easy.”

“What do you mean?” You looked at him with a pierce look.

“I knew he’d fall for it. He was always so weak,” he chuckled. “His weakness. Wanting to be clever all the time.”

“I bet he’s better than you are,” you roared.

“Oh, please. You’re talking to the king of the world,” he looked at you as he shook his head in amusement. “Now, would you end this game for us?”

“How?” You asked.

“You know how. By the way, nice place, isn’t it? A tall building – nice way to do it.”

“Do what? Do-?” Your face pale of horror. “My suicide.”

“Good. Sherlock picked a clever girl. What a pity,” he said and you fixed your gaze to edge of the rooftop. “’Genius’ girlfriend commits suicide’ ‘She died before the detective could propose to her,’” He whispered in your ear and you shivered.

“Propose?” You frowned in disbelief and you turned your gaze to him.

“Don’t at look at me like that. You know who I am. I know everything. Well…at least everything about Sherlock, you know darling?”

“Stop calling me darling!” You scolded.

“Oh, yes…I’m so sorry,” he said with a maniac smile as he got closer to you to finally face you. “He’s the only one who can call you like that, can’t he?’ He inquired but you decided to shut up and keep him talking. “Oh, I see. His beloved girlfriend is brave as I expected.”

“My suicide,” you mumbled. Jim nodded and franticly smiled.

“You’ve gotta admit that’s sexier.” He said and then both looked down. “Oh, look. It seems you already have some audience.”

“And they’ll think I’d die in disgrace,” you said with a terrified and sad face.

Moriarty nodded. “There are snipers aiming with their guns at all of your friends and you know this is the only thing that will call off the killers. I’m certainly not gonna do it.”

“I would like to have…a moment. Would you give me a moment; a moment of privacy?” you begged him as you looked down to the street. You got scared and already thought you were dead. “Please?” you begged again.

“Of course, after all you’ll have to do it,” he said as he walked away.

You ignored his words, you needed to do it. If you didn’t do it things would get worse. He would kill Sherlock and all your beloved ones. But you changed your mind.

Jim was moving away across the roof while you lifted your gaze and slowly a smile appeared on your face and you start to chuckle. Jim was still walking away the roof but then he stopped. You were laughing delightfully and Moriarty started to get angry.

“What?” He inquired furiously but you were still chuckling.

“You’re not going to do it. You don’t have any killers outside there and why would I do that if I’ve got you.”

“Oh!” he laughed out loud. “You think you can make me stop the order? There are killers, dear,” he chuckled. “You remind me of your boyfriend. Naah. You talk big. You’re ordinary,” you glared at him. “He’s ordinary. He’s on the side of the angels.”

“And you’re the devil, itself,” you roared.

“Wow. You are seriously mad about him. What a couple!” He said chuckling sarcastically. Jim got a little bit closer to you stopping and getting into your face. “But you should know you’re dating a person like me,” he said with a pitchy voice.

“No, of course I’m not.”

“Oh, yes you are. Sherlock and I are quite similar, you know. So I thank him,” he offered his hand, though you didn’t know why. “Thank you too after all, you made me get his attention.”

You both lowered your gaze and you finally take his hand.

“As long as I’m alive you can save your friends,” he said. “Well, good luck with that.”

Suddenly Jim quickly raised his eyes to you, maniacally smiled, opened his mouth wide, took his gun and shoot himself. You released his hand, cried out and pulled back. You looked his body on the ground with horror. There was a victory smile on his face and blood all around him.

You tried to forget was just happened but it was impossible. It was something that you would never forget.

With your breath noisy, you paced around trying to think what to do. But there was just one thing to do: jump from the rooftop. Yes, it scared you but there was no other option otherwise everyone was going to die.

Meanwhile John and Sherlock were still looking for you. They took a cab and headed to the centre of London, they thought they might find you there.

“Come on, come on, come one…” Sherlock mumbled as he played with his fingers.

“She’ll be fine. We’ll find her. Just…”

Sherlock’s phone rang. It was you. He answered the call as fast as he could.

“Y/N,” he said breathlessly.

“Sherlock…I need,” your voice started to break.

“What do you need?” He asked worriedly. “Please answer me. Tell me where are you.”

“I’m…I’m…come to St. Bart’s. We need to talk,” you said almost crying.

“Talk? Please, Y/N. Tell me what’s going on.”

You closed tightly your eyes and hung up the call.

“Y/N?” Sherlock glanced at John. “Y/N?!” He shouted desperately. “She hung up.”

“St. Bart’s!” John cried to the cabbie and he nodded.

As the cab got closer to the hospital, you breathed rapidly and put one of your hands on your mouth so your cries couldn’t be heard. Tears were shedding on your face and you couldn’t help thinking how dying would feel. Your breath began to slow as you stepped up onto the ledge of the rooftop. You looked again towards the ground.

When you wanted to rise your gaze again you saw somebody’s cab pull up. There were they. Sherlock and John.

You took your phone again and selected the speed dial. Sherlock’s phone began ringing again. Without hesitating he took it from the pocket of his coat and answered the call.

 “Y/N?” he said as he looked around him trying to find you.

“Sherlock,” you said with your voice breaking.

“Where are you?” he inquired and then frowned. “Are you crying?” He asked as he started walking with John towards St. Bart’s.

“Turn around and walk back the way you came now,” you asked with tears on all your face.

“No, we’re coming in.”

“Sherlock, just do as I ask. Please,” you begged frantically.

“Where are you? Y/N?”

You paused for a second as you saw your boyfriend and your best friend walking abroad the road.

“Stop there and look up,” you ordered with your heart breaking piece by piece as you saw Sherlock’s face full of horror.

“Oh God,” he mumbled.

“What? No, please,” John said under his breath.

“What…what…please don’t,” he begged to you.

“I…I can’t come down. I’m sorry, but we’ll have to do this like this.”

“No, we won’t. Please, come down. Just come down,” he asked you trying to convince you but you shook your head. “What’s this, Y/N?”

“Trust me. This is…this is…” you burst out crying.

“Please come down, don’t do this to me,” he said as his eyes filled of tears.

“Let me do this. Just let me do it.”

“Not on my watch. No. Come down, please,” he said as his voice broke.


“Yes?” He asked worriedly. “Please, don’t,” he said under his breath.

“This…this is my note.”


“I’m gonna do it.”

“No, shut up. Don’t you dare. You are happy with me, aren’t you? I love you. Isn’t that enough, because I would give my life just to keep you safe.”

“I’m afraid that’s why I’m doing this,” you said crying.

“You know I love you, don’t you?” You sadly nodded. “Because all this time I wanted you to become my wife.”

“I know,” you gave him a sad grin.

“So then please come down,” you didn’t say a word so he reacted. “Ok, stay there.”


“Why are you doing this to me?” he cried.

“I don’t have any other choice,” you replied. Then you stretched out your free hand to Sherlock. “Keep your eyes fixed on me,” you asked.


“Will you do this for me, please?”

“Please,” he muttered crying.

“I love you,” you said crying.

“What?” He asked in disbelief and frowned.

“Goodbye, Sherlock,” you said and hung up the call.

You looked down at Sherlock for a few seconds, lowered your arm and dropped the phone away with your gaze ahead yourself.

Sherlock lowered his phone and accidentally dropped it to the floor. His heart was beating so fast that he hadn’t had time to think. What now? His girlfriend was about to jump from a hospital rooftop and commit suicide. If only he could stop the time and save her.

You spread your arms to either side and fall forwards. John and Sherlock stared in terror.

“Y/N!” Sherlock cried out as he saw the love of his life falling down from the rooftop.

That was it. You saved all of your beloved ones, but who saved you? Did you die? Or did someone save you?

‘The Fall: I Want To Find You’ [Second Chapter]

‘The Fall: Together Again’ [Third Chapter]

3 Years (John x Reader)

Word Count: 3,977

Warnings: Swears, Alcohol, Smut (It’s hella fluffy smut)

Authors Note: So we hit 800? I’m dying I love you guys so much I don’t deserve any of you. Anyways, I wanted to celebrate this milestone with some smut yeah? lol. Get ready, it’s so sweet you could get a cavity. Big thanks to @adolescenthowell for dealing with my smut writing process shit. Go follow her! I LIVE TO HEAR FEEDBACK FROM YOU GUYS AND I LOVE TO JUST HEAR FROM YOU IN GENERAL. PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THOUGHT. I LOVE YOU GUYS!

Requests:  Reader x Laurens where they go out with the squad and reader looks really hot and Laurens whose like in love with reader can’t control himself and maybe leads to smut if you’re ok with that

John Laurens + reader teasing him while they’re at a bar?


Friday night meant going out with your friends for drinks, especially after you had met Alexander. You and Alex had met in college and after that you two hit it off instantly, doing everything together. You would be lying if you said you two hadn’t hooked up once or twice but you both mutually agreed that you two were better off as friends, you even helped snag Eliza for him. Being friends with Alex meant being friends with his friends, and thankfully they all liked you. All but one. John Laurens. For some reason, you two had created a friendship of your own filled with nothing but dry, sarcastic humor that nobody seemed to understand. You greeted him with insults and he would happily take them and throw one back at you.

You stepped into the taxi and gave the driver the name of the bar as you smoothed out your barely there dress. The forest green silky fabric felt like air to your skin, and you had to make sure you had actually worn clothes out. If the short length wasn’t enough, the dress also was backless as the fabric in the back started below your ribcage. You didn’t know why you had chosen to wear that dress. On Friday nights you had usually opted for a pair of jeans and a nice top but today you felt like dressing up a bit more, and you were definitely feeling yourself. The taxi came to a screeching halt in front of the bar, and you thanked the driver as you handed him a ten dollar bill. You swung your legs out of the cab and gracefully stood up as the New York City breeze hit your body. You smoothed out your hair before walking into the bar.

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|The Story of Last Night | Lafayette

So I was listening to The Story of Tonight Reprise and the idea of drunk Lafayette is literally everything to me right now.

I may not live to see our glory!” 

You rose an eyebrow at the chorus of voices that hit your ears as you entered the bar, and sighed when you recognized the faces. 

Not again, You purposefully maneuvered away from them, going by the counter. Its not that you didn’t like the four idiots, you did, but it was just that you had no time nor patience to deal with them at the moment. The whole reason you had skipped the reception in the first place, was because you had found yourself becoming quickly overwhelmed. 

Even among-st girls, Angelica sure knew how to party. 

You chuckled nervously at the memory of the flamboyant Schuyler (and Eliza who surprisingly got quite frisky the moment she got even a little alcohol in her system).

So yeah, it wasn’t a good idea to let them see you. Especially since it looked like they were dead ass drunk. They were bad enough normally, you didn’t even want to try to handle them while they were off their rocker.

“The usual?”

You lifted your head to peer at the bartender, who had a warm smile. You nodded, and the man blinked at your weary state. 

“Rough night?” He asked. You looked not too subtly in the way of the notorious gang, and he gave you an expression of empathy. “Ah, I see.”

“Hamilton’s hitched,” you clarified. The bartender snickered.

“I know. The whole place does,” He said, returning with your drink. You shrugged laughing along with him and taking a tentative sip before deciding to just chug the whole thing down.

Right when you were contemplating getting another round and joining the party of intoxicated laid-backs, a hand tapped your shoulder. You turned to see the face of none other than Hercules Mulligan himself.

“Y/L/N” He started, scratching the back of his neck with a crooked white smile. He looked to be still tipsy, but way more cognitive than he had been when you spotted the quartet earlier. 

“Please, Mulligan, you can call me Y/N,” You returned the smile, giving him your full attention. 

“Well then, right back at you, Y/N.”

“As you say, Hercules,” You taunted back. He chuckled deeply.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you, but I require your assistance,” He began. You gave him a look of confusion, and he gestured to his arm. 

When you looked properly, you saw that he was practically carrying Lafayette  like he weighed a bag of feathers. While Hercules had regained his wits, the french man clearly had not, and was still properly bamboozled. 

“Monsieur Lafayette cannot hold his liquor?” You questioned in amusement. Hercules shared your sentiment.

“On the contrary, he is actually quite impressive in that regard. But alas, he had way more than any of us.”

You grinned but it wavered when you saw his suggestive gaze. “Wait…what exactly are you asking me to do here?”



“Please Y/N?” He couldn’t restrain his laugh. “John ran off somewhere, and I need to track him down so that he doesn’t jump in the lake.”

“Why can’t Hamilton do it?” You stalled. 

“Hamilton went off somewhere with Burr,” Hercules confirmed. You opened your mouth to make another excuse but a look from the tall man had you shutting up.

You groaned, putting your palm to your face. “I’m going to regret this.”

“Thank you Y/N,” Hercules was more than willing to hand over the drunk man to you, and you nearly fell over to hold him up. 

“You’re-” You barely started but he was already out the doors. “…welcome.”

You huffed, focusing now on the immigrant nearly drooling on your shoulder.

“Lets go,” You shook him slightly, enough to get him able to walk with you as you hung his arm around your neck.

“Hmm..?” He asked drowsily, a rumble vibrating through his chest and straight through you. “Where…?”

His voice was hoarse from the recent wake up and you would vehemently deny that it had goosebumps rising up your arms. 

“Home,” You said, absentmindedly watching the stars as the two of you hobbled down the empty street. 

“Home…?” He repeated. “You…would have a…ship at the ready?”

You snorted. Even completely wasted, he didn’t fail to have you in fits of laughter. 

“Not France, Lafayette,” You mused. “Though I think I would like to visit.”

“Anytime…” He opened his eyes blearily, seeming to want to see you. When he saw your face he seemed a bit surprised, but got over it. “Y/N…”

Your name rolling off his lips made you weirdly content. 

“You would escort me, Monsieur?” You were enjoying somewhat flirting with the man, knowing he wouldn’t remember a single word. 

“Anything for you,” He responded. You paused. That sounded a little too sincere. You peeked a glance to see if he had cleared his mind from the alcoholic fog, but his face was still flushed. Guess not.

“Its a date then,” You said. 

“Date…? Yes…a date,” He murmured by your ear, breath washing over you, a distinct smell of sweet whiskey. You were already getting flustered by the proximity, but when his lips pressed to your neck you lost your crap.

“What are you doing?” The words were rushed, your voice a pitch higher. 

“Tu es si belle.”


“Vous frappez, madame. Restez avec moi.”


The only thing that followed was a babble of french that you in no way could translate. The sultry flow of the romantic language by your ear was again getting too much for you. You were sure your face would burn off in no time.


That seemed to knock him out of his daze, but he still continued to speak in French, with a few random English words in-between. You suddenly noticed the confused expression set on his face and realized he quite seriously couldn’t remember the language at the moment in his state.

How adorable.

You let him off the hook for the intrusion of your personal space just because of that, and giggled quietly to yourself as you walked up to his door. 

You fished around in his coat for his keys, and gave a small ‘aha’ when you found them in an inner pocket. The door clicked open.

“Here we are,” You said. A strike of sympathy struck within you with another look at Lafayette’s disheveled state. 

It wouldn’t kill you to bring him to his room would it? You took the small journey with a pep in your step.

“Time to go to bed, Lafayette,” You spoke to him as if he was a child, patting his shoulder. He hummed.


You made to let him go but stopped breathing when the roles changed as he clamped his arms around your waist and dragged you down to the mattress with him.

“MMpH..!” You thrashed, face pressed into his chest, your bodies practically glued together. A heat ravaged your cheeks when you registered this, his toned body outlined underneath his clothes, the scruff on his jaw brushing against your cheek. You finally managed to disconnect from him enough to speak. 

“Let go!” You whispered harshly. Lafayette stirred, opening his eyes. The two of you stared at each other before an odd glint entered Lafayette’s chocolate eyes. 

“Laf-” You started.



“Stay,” He said shortly, more of a question than a demand. His eyes looked too clear, too soft for someone who was drunk.

You got lost in his gaze, your faces so close now that you could count every brown eyelash, the curls escaping his ponytail, framing his captivating features. 

Everything was shouting at you to say no, to get the hell out of there, but then his lip quirked upward and you were melting.


His head buried in your neck, your legs intertwined as the soft sounds of his breathing filled the quiet air.

And the dull beat of his heart lulled you to join him in the land of the subconscious not long after.


You frowned at the noise, wondering who had the heart of stone to do this to you so early in the morning. Opening your eyes, you watched Lafayette in blurry perplexity until the memories of the night before came back to you and just sighed, rolling back over.

“Go back to sleep, Lafayette.”

“Back to-?!” He was utterly befuddled, wincing at the sound of his own voice, nursing a hangover. Another round of french escaped his lips before he caught himself.  “Mon cher, what are you doing in my bed??!!”

“So you don’t remember last night?” You mulled, taking great satisfaction in making him freak out even more.

“Last night?!!” He sputtered, a complete mess of ruffled clothes, bed hair and tangled sheets. “What did I - did we - how did-”

You snuggled into the warm sheets, snickering. “Don’t worry, we didn’t do anything.”

A breath of relief left his lungs. “Oh merci bien.”

You hummed casually. “I mean, you haven’t even taken me on that date to France yet.”

You swear you had no idea the male human voice could go that high before. “Date??”

A thump alerted you to the fact that he had fallen out of the bed and onto the floor. 

You yawned, raising your hand limply above your head to point at the ceiling. Where to start? 

“I’ll tell the story of last night…”


Meanwhile, Molly

(Or: More Things That People Think Make Sherlock Canonically Straight But They Really Really Don’t)

Allow me to address one more incredibly beautiful part of Sherlock (and then I’ll stop overusing the word “beautiful”, sorry, I just loved series four): Let’s talk about what is the point of Molly Hooper.

I’ve always sympathised with Molly, but I admit that from a literary point of view, I didn’t quite get her. If she was a love interest for Sherlock, why would the story not revolve more around her? But if she wasn’t a love interest, where was her character going? Why was she there in the first place? It didn’t feel Moffat-y sound. (And yes, I just made that expression up.) 

But looking back on all four series, the intention of Molly’s character actually becomes pretty clear. In a nutshell: At any given moment of the show, Molly is an indicator of John Watson’s feelings towards Sherlock. (No really, let me show you.) 

Originally posted by acrossthestarx

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Third Time’s a Charm // Tom Holland

Request: Can I request a tom X reader fic where he takes the reader to a premier for their first date!? Please, and thank you (:

Requested by: @impalalalalardis-1067

Pairings: Tom Holland + Reader

Warnings: None!

Notes: Sorry this took so long I suck omg but I didn’t know how to write out the actual date/premiere so I wrote about Tom asking the reader to be his date!! I hope this is okay!!

“Sorry your date tonight was such a bust.” I directed my attention from the TV to Tom as his spoon dug into the bowl of ice cream in his hands. He was seated next to me on my couch, my head on his shoulder with a blanket thrown lazily across both of our laps as we devoured the rest of the chocolate ice cream I had in my freezer. I shook my head as I laid it back down on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m only sad that I bought this dress for this date, and now I probably won’t ever wear it again.” I shrugged. We were in this current position because I had been on my second date in the past week (each with a different guy my friends had set up for me), and it turned out to be the worst date. I ended up ending the date earlier than he expected, claiming I had just gotten my period and needed to be home as soon as I possibly could. He asked to reschedule the date (after trying to talk his way into my apartment to “take care of me”), and I said I’d let him know when I was available.

As soon as he left I called Tom and after laughing at the lame excuse I had given the poor guy for twenty solid minutes, he brought all my favorite romantic comedies to help me forget about my horrible love life.

“It doesn’t have to go to waste, y’know,” his voice was a whisper, I would have missed it if I weren’t right next to him.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I, uh,” he sat up straight, prompting me to do so and as I did I shifted my body to fully face him, “well, the premiere I’m going to for Doctor Strange is in a couple of days…”

“And why would I wear it there?” I asked him, a hint of a smile on my face, already knowing what he was trying to get across, but I wanted him to ask me the full question.

“Because you could, I don’t know, I mean if you wanted to – you could come as my date?”

My smile grew wider as I watched the light shade of pink rise to his cheeks. “You asking me on a date, Holland?”

He laughed a little, facing me fully now too, a smile on his face. “Yeah, I mean you know what they say, third time’s a charm, right?”

“Shut up,” I laughed a little, going back to resting my head on his shoulder. Tom’s arm found its way around my shoulder, bringing me closer to him and resting his head on top of mine.

“I don’t know why you went out with those losers anyway,” his voice returned to a whisper as John Krasinski’s character in Something Borrowed declared his love to his best friend on the TV.

“What?” I asked in a teasing voice, “Were you jealous?” I expected a laugh to come out of him and for him to call me stupid but he only shrugged and sighed. I looked up at him slightly, only to see him already looking down at me, my eyes wide at his reaction.

“What? You never thought about me?” He smiled a little as he quoted the movie we were watching. I reached for the remote and paused the movie, sitting up straight again to look at him fully.

“Tom, I need you to be serious right now.”

“I am being serious.” He sighed again, his hand reaching out to hold mine. He played with my fingers and I sat in silence waiting for him to continue. After a couple of minutes of unbearable silence, I was about to say something before he started talking again, “I don’t know. I guess I just can’t stand to see you with these guys who don’t deserve you. No one deserves you, not even me,” he put a hand up to stop me from talking, already knowing I would retaliate to that absurd statement. “No one deserves you, but, God, I will spend every single day with you trying my best to be the guy who does.”

It was quiet again and I had assumed he was done, so I began speaking. “Tom,” his eyes remained where our hands met in the middle of us. My free hand came to meet his cheek, caressing him lightly. His head lifted, his eyes finally meeting mine with a light smile on his face. “Of course I’ve thought about you,” his smile faltered slightly as his eyebrows furrowed, but I continued. “Tom, I didn’t know what I wanted until I met you.” His intense stare intimidated me, my eyes began to find our hands just as interesting as Tom had a couple of minutes before. We sat in silence until Tom let go of my hands, scooting closer to me.

“And? What do you want?” I could hear the smile in his accent as his hand returned and he tugged on mine. The taunting atmosphere was back, him already knowing I meant him but him wanting to hear me say it.

I smiled and lifted my gaze back to him, leaning into him a little more. His arms steadied me as I straddled his waist, he hung them around me loosely as my arms wound around his neck. “You,” I whispered my answer before his lips connected with mine. One of his hands finding its way to the back of my neck and deepening the kiss. My fingers carded through his hair as I felt him sigh in the kiss. We broke apart as both of our smiles grew too wide for the kiss to continue.

“I’ve waited years for you to do that.” My voice remained at a whisper as I tried to catch my breath, our foreheads resting against each other.

“Sorry it took me so long.”

We shifted so we were pressed against each other again on the couch, playing the movie again. It was silent before Tom turned toward me again. “So, that’s a yes to the premiere, right? I mean you didn’t really answer.”

I laughed loudly, throwing my head back and hitting his shoulder in the process as he smiled back at me, pulling me back against him.

“I’d be delighted, Tom.”

Guys My Age Don’t Know How To Touch Me - Part III

Part I

Part II

He quickly checks his reflection in the rearview mirror, running a hand through his curls. Taking a deep breath, he tilts his head back a little, squinting his eyes.

He looked decent for someone who stayed awake all night, working on those lyrics and chords. Only the circles underneath his eyes would give him away.

Keep reading

Strawberry Ice Cream- Request! John Wick x Reader

Request: So John Wick fic idea that I’d love to see you write…he is working as an assassin and has been tasked by a member of the high table with protecting you. Except you are stubborn, extremely independent, and obstinate. Would love some romance and open to smut if you feel like incorporating.

A/N: I know I haven’t posted in a bit but here’s a short and fluffy oneshot to make you forget my absence. This is a somewhat loose take on the request.

Keep reading

{ ways to make you cry }

au: omegaverse

t/w: none

tags:  @tayahqr @moonchildcharm @izzyy-bee @breathingstops @ichbindeindod @sxnyalxveshxrses @stuckonswan @ancrazyfan@lastfallenstar @mollieknighton4000 @louisianaspell @companionintime @stubbron-love @hippie-spice @silence–in–the–library@angelicahamlton @kbells822 @artistxalex @shadoweddarkness @tobesxtisfied @lilyofthevalley63 @hanakatsumi @musicalmoriarty@under-hellfire @pippasoup @obiwan824 @me-idiedforhim @parksxo @thegreaatcomet @2p-trash @raesof-sunshine@poptartroyalty @merrahonthawall @gallopingwithwolves @sarmar29 @ghostieatemymoxie @hellhole-of-musicals @littledelirious@lawnmowerswig @emotrinitytoptrash @patron-saintof-sluts @gracefullystubborn @aanhtrang @onelastfic @librarychild @echo-maniac-23 @idkimrllynerdy @lovelythoughts28 @casualcannibleprincess @scrabblesense @unidentified-failing-object @roliepoliegirl@bethbat @un-surpassable @tailored-shirt-tails @curiousplanets @astudentsnightmare @scum-fairy @sapphirerosee @izzylt123@sweaterkitty-fluff @like-blue-bonnets @blu932 @nixilton @thataudreydork  @lifeless-galaxy-water @queenofrock0369121518@stillcooli0 @elenavaldez02 @novarebel @local-atbest @girlmeetsvouge @wolfygirl722 @darksoulcupcakes @promisesandmore @laurenslover864 @bad-hatter @hello-fanfiction-goodbye-grades @the-puppeteer @dianaftop @burrbbery @i-am-nonstop @a-hamilton-mess @fislan @hamilsquadfics @someoneisholdingmynamehostage @thepervertcreature @kralbaron  @ficsandships @lattes-and-wildflowers @laureninthewoods  @sweet-fate @dontsay-notothis @sappasie-wolf @hamilbroke@the10dollarfoundingfather @koolok1996 @ecurrier109 @ur-friendly-neighborhood-fangirl @commander-rowan @doctor-desi  @arissanoddle @daddysprettypagan @dear-theodo-xia @hamilbroke @cutekittybast @ichbindeinod @curiousplanets @hamilbroke @ichbindeindod 

a/n: thanks for reading guys!! to anyone i made cry, please forgive me i love u

inbox || masterlist

part one // part two // part three // part four

part four

Alex took your hand, squeezed it gently. “I missed hearing your voice.” 

You nodded, smiling a little. He shot you a glare.


You raised your eyebrows in a curious expression. What? What’s wrong? Your face seemed to say. Your smile was coy and playful, but Alex wasn’t having it. Alex shoved you, almost knocking you off of the couch. 

“Okay! Okay!” You giggled. “Here, I’m talking. I’m talking.”

“Don’t even joke like that.” Alex nuzzled his face against your neck. You wrapped your arms around him tightly as you cuddled on the couch. He had wiggled his way into your lap but you weren’t complaining. “You’re so good, you know.” 

“Hmm? What do you mean?” You frowned a little, resting your chin on his head.

“You could have given them hell.” Alex chuckled a little, looking up at you.

“Yeah,” You whispered, rubbing little circles into his back. “Maybe. I-It’s just -” You bit your lip and Alex sat up a little straighter, watching you carefully. “We’ve been together for years, Alex. And that bond…It would hurt so much to sever.” You looked down, nervously. Alex intertwined your hands, squeezed it gently. 

“You know what it is? You’re just too impulsive.” You chuckled. “You would have had a bag already packed.” 

“Probably.” He mumbled before he laughed a little. “It would have been a lot messier.” 

It was quiet between the two of you. Alex was finished talking and you were lost in thought. 

If you didn’t have such a tight bond, would you have severed it? Would you have really said goodbye to your alphas? Was the depth of your relationship the only thing stopping you? 

The TV played in the background, but neither of you are watching it. You buried your face into Alex’s hair, playing with the ends of it. You closed your eyes, found comfort in his scent as you thought. 

Alphas. Your alphas. Laf and Herc had been with you for years and even before you were their omega, they were nothing but kind to you. Was it naive for you to hope that they’d be good forever? Was it stupid for you to hold onto that part of them? Even if it wasn’t guaranteed? What if something like this happened again? What if all the promises they made to you were just to make you stay?

What if they weren’t really sorry?

“I can hear you thinking.” Alex mumbled against you. “What’s wrong?” He pulled away a little, looked into your eyes. 

You gave him a half truth. “Worried about reconnecting with the alphas,” You whispered. “I don’t know where to start.” 

“Little steps.” He said. “You know what they need and you know what you need.” 

You nodded, gave him a little smile. Alex always seemed to put things in perspective for you.

“And no matter what, me and John are here for you.” He kissed your cheek. When he pulled away, he took a good look at you. “You look tired.”

“Wow, thanks, Alex. You really know how to charm an omega.” 

“That’s not what I meant! I mean -” He laughed a little, knowing whatever he said next would probably make things worse. “Why don’t you take a nap or something? Everyone else will be home by the time you wake up.” 

You reluctantly do so. Alex got up from the couch and stretched a little. He got you a blanket and draped it over you before disappearing from your view. You sprawled out along the couch before falling asleep. 

You woke up and opened your eyes groggily. You blinked up, feeling yourself being moved. You looked up to see that it was Herc. He was walking with you upstairs, holding you close to his chest. 

It felt familiar. You could remember the nights where you’d collapse on the couch and Herc would be there to take you upstairs. The nights were he just held you to his chest making you feel like everything was right in the world. You missed that. You missed him. You missed your alpha. 

“H-Herc?” You whispered, voice low and full of sleep. 

“Hi, baby.” He said softly, giving you a comforting smile. “Figured you wanted to be in the bed.” 

“Oh.” You blinked. You nuzzled your face into Herc’s chest, picking up the faint scent of his pheromones. “Thank you.” You said softly, closing your eyes. 

He smiled at you. The victory was small but to see you snuggling up to him made him smile. 

“It’s no problem.” Herc walked into the bedroom with you. He gently set you down on the bed, got you tucked under the sheets. He gave you a little smile and started to walk outside. Alex’s words echoed in your head. 

Little steps. 


He quickly turned, standing in the doorway. “Yes, honey?” 

“Can you stay with me?” You spoke up a little. “I-If you’re not busy, that is.” 

Herc felt his heart race a little, felt a smile creep onto his face. A surge of warmth filled him, making him feel relieved after the fight you had. Now, he was wanted. Now, he felt needed. 

“Yeah.” He smiled and he crawled into bed with you. He too got under the covers, propped up his elbow as he looked down at you. “You’re going to be up late, aren’t you?” 

“Probably, yeah.” You laughed a little, knowing he was right. “But, I’m awake now. Figured I could spend some time with you.” You looked up at him, biting your lip. 

“I’d love to.” He wrapped his arm around your waist, came closer to you. “This okay?” 

You nodded, feeling all your worries melt away. He kissed your head, pulled you closer to his chest. 

“How was work?” You said softly, tracing little circles along his arm. He readjusted himself as you rested your head on his chest. He couldn’t help but smile. He missed holding you like this. He missed having you here. 

He nosed at your neck, smiling when it smelled so familiar. You smelled like honey and hibiscus. He tried to control himself, not wanting to overstep his boundaries. He didn’t want to hurt you again.

“Work was good.” He said softly. “It’s nice being able to do what you love. Not everybody gets to say that.” 

You smiled as he spoke, noticing how his expression lit up at the mention of what he was working on. His newest collection was almost ready for production. 

“Got some new designs that I’m finalizing. Maybe you could model them for me?” 

“Wait, really?” Your eyes widened in surprise. “I-I’d really like that. Your stuff is amazing, Herc. It’d be an honor.” You wrapped your arms around him tightly, pulling him in for a hug. You nosed at his scent, burrowing yourself deeper into his hold. He smelled like sandalwood and vanilla and his pheromones comforted you. 

“I’ll bring you in once they’re all finished. Even if I can’t get you fitted in one, you can see the stuff I’ve been working on.”

“You rarely ever bring stuff home anymore.” You pouted a little. “Everything’s a secret with you.” 

“Not true.” He chuckled. “And I do it so I can spend time with you, Alex, and John.”

“Not a lot of alphas are at home as much as you and Laf.” You whispered. You thought about your friends. Their alphas were rarely ever home hence why they went out so much. You started to wonder if it was really how their relationship worked or perhaps it was their way of rebelling. Either way, you found yourself a little more grateful that your alphas made time for you.

You looked up at him. “We appreciate it. I appreciate it.” 

“You’re my mate.” He said softly. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

“Show me what you’re working on then.” You grinned, nuzzling his nose against yours. 

“Alright, alright. You can come with me tomorrow.” Herc kissed your head. You smiled, his lips on your skin making you feel at ease.

You relaxed into his embrace. You closed your eyes, sunk back into his hold. You could do little steps. 

You tapped Laf’s shoulder, clearing your throat softly. 

“What do you need, love?” He looked at you, albeit it a little surprised. It wasn’t that you were ignoring him. It was just that moments with you were rare. You were warming up to Hercules. He figured it was only a matter of time until you warmed up to him. 

He wondered if this is where you were starting.

“It’s just us two tonight.” You said softly. Herc had taken Alex out on a date; John was working late at his job. You were the only two in the house. It felt daunting at first, but you could do this. Laf didn’t have to be a stranger to you. 

“Thought I could make you dinner or something.” 

“How about I make you dinner?” He countered, a little glint in his eye. 

“We can do it together.” You offered, leaning over the couch so you could look at him better. “Yeah?” 

Laf’s smile told you that meant yes. 

Little steps. You thought. Little steps.

You timidly leaned forward and kissed his temple. His eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly relaxed. He closed his eyes, relished the feeling of your lips on his, and let out a little sigh.

“Might have to go to the store.” You mumbled and quickly headed into your kitchen. Laf heard you go, your footsteps padding along the floor of the house.

You took one look inside your almost empty fridge and burst into laughter. Laf peeked in just behind you, wondering what was so funny. When he joined you and saw what you were looking at, he too cracked a smile. 

“I guess I’ll have to go to the store.” Laf chuckled, eyeing the few ingredients in the fridge. It certainly wasn’t enough to make a meal.

“I’ll come with you.”

“You’ll want to get a jacket,” Laf whispered as he shut the refrigerator door. “It’s cold out, ma chérie.”

“Okay, alpha.” You said nonchalantly, already rushing upstairs. Laf sort of smiled, felt his heart beat a little faster. Another little victory, another piece of you brought back to him. You were calling him alpha again.

After you had gotten a jacket from your closet, you rushed back down to meet him. You slipped your shoes on and grabbed your purse. Once you were ready to go, Laf and you headed to the store. 

You naturally stayed close to Laf as you walked through the store. You felt something twitch inside you, found yourself staring at Laf for longer than you should have. If he noticed it, he didn’t mention it. 

Eventually, you worked up the courage to reach for his hand. Very slowly, you intertwined your fingers with his and leaned into his side as you stood in the middle of the produce section. 

He looked down at you with a little smile. “Hi.” He said quietly. 

“Hi.” You whispered back, eyes sparkling a little.

He gently kissed the back of your hand and walked with you up and down the aisles. 

“Nothing fancy tonight,” You laughed a little, helping him check off things on the list. “I’m hungry.” 

He grinned, holding a basket in his other hand. “Don’t worry. It won’t take too long.” 

Your eyes flickered over to the section just ahead. You let go of Laf’s hand and quickly ran towards the end of the aisle. “Do you remember eating these?” You waved the packets of ramen to Laf’s view, a big smile on your face. 

“How could I forget?” Laf chuckled, coming closer to you. “John and Alex would eat these all the time before they met you. Even after.” He took one, flipping it over with a fond little smile. “Despite them having very little nutritional value,” He stressed, making you laugh. “We can have some tonight. If you’d like.”

“But the rest of the stuff.” You looked down at the list.

“I’ll come back tomorrow. Let’s get some of these and get home.” 

When you stepped back inside your place, you felt at ease. You didn’t feel like you couldn’t breathe. You didn’t feel like you were trapped in a home that wasn’t your own. You felt like you were at home.

Laf wrapped his arms around your waist as you stood at the stove. You stirred the noodles, watching as the block of noodles softened and filled the pot of warm water.

“Five star dining.” You laughed a little, adding in the seasoning. 

“Something like that,” Laf kissed your cheek and rubbed your side. “I remember how Herc showed you how to use chopsticks last time we had this. Feels like it was forever ago.” 

“We ate this after you and Herc marked me.” You whispered. “We were exhausted but it’s all you had time to make.” 

The two of you laughed. Laf rubbed your lower back. “Herc and I, ah, did not plan that heat well.” He smiled and he watched you as you stirred the noodles. “Seems this meal is more special than we thought.” 

You sat at the table together until it started to feel familiar. You sat beside Laf until you started to feel a little more like yourself, felt a little more like an omega just sitting with your alpha. Felt like you hadn’t fought. Felt like nothing was wrong. 

You blinked up at him, eyes growing heavy. You pulled him down by his sleeve, until his forehead was resting against yours. Maybe it was the warmth of the ramen or maybe the wine Laf insisted on pulling out, but Laf smelled so good. You just wanted him close. 

“Alpha,” You said softly, cupping his face. 

“Yes, my love?” He looked down at you with a little smile. “Think you had too much wine.” 

You shook your head fervently and he chuckled. For the third time that night, you surprised him. You crawled into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your head on his shoulders. 

Laf tensed for a moment. He took a deep breath, relaxed as he felt you nuzzle closer to him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, stroked your hair. 

John came home first and when he saw the two of you, just sitting in the dining room, holding onto each other, he can’t help but feel relieved. The entire time he’d been telling himself and you and Alex that everything would be alright. In that moment, he finally started to believe it.

Within a week or two, you were getting used to interacting with your alphas. It was hard, but you did learn how to love them again. You remembered how kind they were to you, how thoughtful they truly were, and how before you had your fight, how much they cherished you.

They took little steps too. They made you dinner, helped you wash your hair, put a blanket over you if you had fallen asleep in some random place, kept you company when you had to run errands. All these acts of kindness reminded you that these were the alphas you had loved. These were your alphas.

You would ask them for help more often than you pushed them away. You might trust them to make small decisions for you, but they’d let you make big ones on your own.

Alex was especially happy to see you rekindling your relationship with them. The tension slowly slipped out of the house and you started to feel like a pack again. 

It was little things like holding Herc’s hand when you were out together in public or asking Laf to help you order something. They made him feel helpful and needed. As a result, you too felt cared for. That was enough for the three of you.

Despite Laf’s words occasionally echoing in your head, you didn’t stay stuck in that mindset. You felt yourself grow more at ease around him. You welcomed his hugs and kisses, weren’t afraid to cling to him when you were scared or unsure, weren’t afraid to share your heart with him. If anything, this situation brought you closer. 

On one night in particular, the three of you sat in the guest bedroom to talk. You leaned against the bed frame, you in between your alphas as you spoke. 

“I just need you to trust me,” You told them quietly. “Can you do that? And if not, can we agree to talk about certain things? Even if they’re awkward and uncomfortable?” You weakly laughed. 

Both of your alphas nodded. 

“Okay, well, I wanted to get dinner with Connor. I have for a while, but I kept pushing it back with everything that happened.” You said, looking up at the two of them. “Is that okay? My friend Adrian–oh, he’s a beta–will be there too.” 

Your alphas shifted a little so you started to expect the worst. Instead, you felt Laf lean down and kiss your head.

“Ready to hear something you probably knew already?” He prompted, giving you a little smile.


“Laf and I felt threatened by Connor for a while.” Herc said, rubbing your side. 

“Really?” You looked down at your feet, pulling your knees to your chest. “You don’t need to.” You mumbled. “I love you guys a lot more than I love him. I’ve just known Connor for a really long time. We’re good friends. That’s all.” 

“That’s good to hear.” Laf whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Didn’t seem important.” Herc laughed, but his laughter was quiet. Almost nervous. 

“Anything that bothers you is important to me.” You looked at him right away. “I wish you told me sooner.” 

“It wasn’t a big deal.” Herc kissed your cheek. “Now we know that we have nothing to worry about.”

“I’m bonded to you.” You laughed a little. “There was never anything to worry about in the first place.” 

“Well, you see, our instincts take over and we stop thinking logically.” Herc caressed your cheek, cracking a little smile. “All we see is potential threats and our first thought is how to get rid of them.

“Is that what happened on the night of his party?” You asked quietly. “Was that all instincts?” 

Laf and Herc felt guilty as they looked down at you. They shared a look. 

“Perhaps,” Laf cleared his throat a little. “But, it is still no excuse. We are still responsible for our actions.” 

“So I can go to dinner with them? And you won’t get upset?” You bit your lip a little, looking up at the two of your alphas. 

“We trust you.” Herc smiled and rubbed your shoulder. “And we love you. We want you to know that.” He pulled you into his side, kissed your head. Laf too gave you a kiss to your cheek, making your eyes water a little at their gestures. 

Your scent changed slightly. Laf and Herc retreated, looking at you in concern.

“Are you alright?” Laf asked, taking your hand. “What is it?” 

You bit your lip and shook your head. You closed your eyes, trying to keep the tears in, but you weren’t doing a very good job. It was too hard to try and withhold your scent.

“Honey,” Herc said softly. “Are you okay?” 

You cleared your throat, took a deep breath. “I was talking with Alex and for a moment, I thought about severing our bond.” You bit your lip, looking down. 

They didn’t know what to say. They couldn’t speak. Both of your alphas felt their hearts break at the fact that you even considered breaking your bond. 

Their scents changed to a putrid scent. They were sad, heartbroken even. As a result, your head pounded and your heart ached. You felt sick to your stomach and it was enough to make you speak up again.

“I-I don’t feel the same way now, of course, but being here…with you two just makes me glad I didn’t.” 

Laf quickly pulled you into his chest, startling you for a moment. You let out a little laugh and slowly wrapped your arms around him. You gently played with the hairs on the nape of his neck. He let out a shaky sigh. For a moment, you were comforting him. 

“M-My sweet omega,” Laf said softly, letting out a shaky breath. “I could not even imagine my life without you.” 

“You don’t have to, alpha.” You reassured him. 

You let him take in your scent, knowing that it would help him relax. You looked back at Herc and pulled him closer to you too. You could smell the anxiety on him. You lifted your neck a little so he could nose near your mark. You kissed his cheek, cupping the side of his face. You rested your forehead against his, feeling him slowly calm down. 

“I’m here. I’m not going to break our bond.” You said softly. You felt Herc nod against you. “You’re my alpha.” You said shakily, your eyes filling with tears. You gave him a smile, both of your eyes a little glassy. “You’re both my alphas and I’m your omega.” 

You timidly leaned forward and brought Herc into a kiss. You cupped his face, feeling the stubble along his jaw. It’s slow, tentative and sweet, like you’re taking your very first steps into the pool. You pulled away from Herc, hearing a soft growl rumble in his chest. You smiled a little, gave him one more peck to his lips to satisfy him. 

You turned to kiss Laf. You’re not as scared. It feels like you’re picking up a dance that you had forgotten, relearning the steps, but once you begin to move, it all comes back to you. You held him close for a moment before you pulled away. The two boxed you in, held you close. 

There was nowhere else you’d rather be.

“Have fun at dinner.” Laf said with a little hum. He kissed your cheek as you came downstairs in your heels and your dress. He wrapped you up into a hug and held you tight. “You look so beautiful, my darling.”

“All thanks to Herc.” You grinned, kissing him back.

“I always liked that dress on you.”

“Me too.” You rested your head against his chest, taking in his scent. He took the time to imprint his scent on you, letting his pheromones seep through the air. You didn’t mind one bit as you held him tighter.

“Sweetheart?” Herc said softly, coming down the stairs. “Don’t want you to forget this.”

He handed you your phone. You gave him a big kiss as thanks, wrapping your arms around his neck. He kissed your cheek and held you tight, rubbing your back. 

“Thanks, Herc.” You let him imprint his scent onto you too. You nosed at his neck before pulling away from him. “I’ll text you when I’m on my way back.” You promised, giving your alphas a little smile. You quickly rushed back to kiss Alex and John who were on the couch before heading out the door. “Bye! I love you!”

Laf’s heart softened a little once it was clear. Herc’s did too as the door shut behind you.

“She loves us.” Laf said dreamily, whole body filling up with warmth.

“I missed hearing her say that.” Herc mused. 

“Mm. I did too.”

Herc pulled Laf into a hug and they shared a tender kiss before Alex peeked into the kitchen.


“What is it, baby?” Herc turned right away, pulling away from Laf. Laf whined a little, leaned down to kiss Herc’s neck and his jaw while his attention was off of him. Herc gave Alex a sweet smile despite what Laf was doing to him. “What do you need?” 

“John wants to watch a scary movie and I’m gonna need all the protection I can get.” He said in one breath. 

“It’s not that scary, Lex!” John called from the living room, laughing a little.

“Don’t lie to me, Jack!” Alex snapped back before looking back up at his alphas. 

Laf smiled, lifted his head from Herc’s neck. He looked down at Alex and beckoned him closer. Alex eagerly came forward, slipped in between the two alphas. He hugged Hercules, wrapping his arms around the alpha’s torso.

“You can sit with me then.” Laf kissed the top of his head and ran a comforting hand through his hair. Alex smiled up at Laf. He quickly took both of their hands and dragged them over to the couch.

You made sure to text your alphas when you were on your way back home. You were coming back later than planned. 

When you finally arrived, John and Alex were asleep on the couch, curled up to one another as they were squished in between Laf and Herc. Your alphas were awake still, eyes on the TV. Reruns of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air play in the background, but they looked up when they hear you come in.

“Hey, princess.” Herc smiled.

“Hi.” You lowered your voice as you kicked off your heels. You set your keys and your purse on the dining room table before you headed towards the living room. Your alphas’ scents hit you and you felt your body begin to relax. You sighed happily. “I really missed you.”

“Mm, what was that?” Laf teased, as you crawled over to sit in Herc’s lap. Laf smirked. He couldn’t move much with Alex leaning on him, but him wiggling his eyebrows was enough to make you laugh.

“I missed you, okay?” You ducked your head down a little, but smiled against Herc’s skin. You nosed at his neck, taking in his earthy scent. You hummed, kissing his cheek repeatedly.

“Mhmm.” Herc chuckled at how affectionate you were being. “Just glad you got home safe.”

“Me too.” You whispered. You wrapped your arms around Herc’s neck, letting out a gentle purr.

It’s enough for Alex to stir from where he leans on Laf. He weakly opened his eyes, but they grew heavy after a moment. He’s awake enough to realize the significance of this.

They hadn’t heard you purr in weeks. It sounded like music to his ears and to your alphas’. He couldn’t help, but smile in his sleep because you were finally happy. He snuggled back closer to Laf, feeling the alpha rub little circles onto his back

“I brought home some cheesecake.” You whispered, suddenly remembering. 

“We can eat it tomorrow.” Herc rubbed your side. “Gotta get these two upstairs.” He nodded in the direction of John and Alex. 

“Don’t go.” You pouted a little. “Need you for a minute.” You leaned into Herc, tightening your hold on him. 

He smiled, brushing a loose curl out of your eyes. “You don’t need to ask, love.”

“You too.” You wanted to pull Laf closer, but with Alex and John between the two of you, you realized this wouldn’t work. 

“Nest, please?” You blinked up at them.

They have you go wash up while they get Alex and John. They put them in the bed and John grinned when Laf told him the bed was theirs for the night. The first thing John does is pin Alex gently to the bed and catch him in a kiss. The two of them are practically inseparable. 

You’re in somebody else’s shirt. Maybe John’s, maybe Alex’s–you’re too tired to tell. You sat up with Herc, talking to him quietly before laying down next to him. Laf slipped in beside you in the nest, cuddled you from your other side.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss to your head as Herc draped an arm around your middle as well. You nosed at both of your alphas necks until you were sure you had their scents memorized. You relaxed, intertwining your fingers with Herc’s and managed to fall asleep.

When John woke up, he dragged Alex out of the bed with him. The two of them peeked into the guest bedroom to see you, Laf, and Herc in the nest, curled up and entangled within one another. You look so small compared to them, but most of all you look happy.