#nolden fanfic

[rocicrew]

Fanfic ask game: 18 (and feel free to ramble about them!). Merry Christmas! ❄️

fanfic end of the year asks 18. current number of wips

Currently I have around 5 maybe 6. Some are more structured and some are just ideas half explored.

What I want to finish are a Naomi and Bobbie ficlet, because they've had limited interactions in the show but I liked bits of them in the books so I thought it would be an interesting are to explore. It will have some brief scenes set in previous seasons like s3/s5 / their grief over alex etc but it mostly is end/post s6 as bobbie has to make the decision to join the roci crew for good or not and them drinking together bc they absolutely need it. And the struggle is to settle on Bobbie's voice but it's also exciting to try

brief excerpt of bobbie being gay to compbat s4: Besides, there’d been a tall woman at the bar who’d been looking at her between drinks. She had a tattoo that stretched from the shaved parts at the base of her skull down to the side of her neck and Bobbie was eager to explore the parts of her chest that seemed to continue. If Naomi needed an early night, she already had found a way to spend the rest of her own.

The other is my Draolden fic set in 6.06 that ive started a little after the show ended and have been picking it up and leaving it since but I am determined to finish it ! I will see if it'll end up working best as a long one chapter or multiple shorter chapters but it will all be posted at once. It is currently at 4,000 works and I've barely scratched the surface soooo yeah

small excerpt (shh they're working on it): The total honesty he often used, had, at times, felt disarming. Years after, she could no longer call it a trick Naomi bought into, but it was, nevertheless, infuriating at times. “What do you think?” To her surprise it was Holden that had asked her.

Then I have a messages Nolden never sent to each other during the s3 time jump wip, because I think it has a lot of potential for unresolved feelings. A Teresa and Naomi post lf ficlet bc they both lost their home and have their own relationship with both Amos and Holden so I thought it interesting to see their grief together. A chapter or ficlet half written from my lf au fic now that we mention it. I for sure have some Amos/Holden/Naomi wip in my files but that's it. And I had started a Nolden pegging fic except I got very unsure about the writing smut aspect so it's stayed at that state.

[cyoza]

drunk in love

*spongebob voice* 10 years later

I know I said I would do this ages ago and I’m sorry I have been p burnt out with my writing so I didn’t wanna like force it but I’ve managed to find some inspo and get down to it 

I have read through it but I’ve had two glasses of wine and I am ill so if I’ve made any mistakes I apologise 

thanks for reading in advance and i hope its a good read! 

- The last thing Naomi expected as she stood pouring herself a cup of coffee was the heavy weight of Jim’s head as he collapsed his head on her shoulder nor was she ready for the assault of vodka that invaded her nostrils. She automatically pulled her head away to escape the aroma but Jim merely followed, bristling his cheek against hers as he wound his arms around her. She let out a soft chuckle as she gave in and placed her arms on top of his, ignoring the vodka scent and leaning into him before breaking the silence. 

‘Hello.’ She greeted simply. 

He responded by pulling her closer and pressing a sloppy kiss under her jaw, earning another giggle from her. 

‘Have a good time?’ She queried, the humour evident in her tone. 

He let out a wistful hum of assent as his head sank heavier on her shoulder to the point where she could no longer hold it there. So she turned in his arms and was met with an utterly heart melting sight. It was a rare occasion where she got to see Jim relaxed or anything but tense, even in his sleep he would frequently thrash and toss with nightmares. Yet here he was, dazed and blithe with a full smile that never appeared anymore. It was impossible to hold back her own smile as she stared at him, pleased that Amos and Alex had finally got him to let his hair down. 

‘I missed you.’ His words slurred as he spoke them but it was the pout that accompanied them that caused a bubble of laughter to build in her stomach. 

‘Did you?’ She lifted her arms to land on his shoulders. ‘Well I’m sure you had fun anyway.’

‘It would have been more fun with you there.’ He complained, pulling her flush against him as he pressed a lazy kiss on her lips. 

She melted into him for a second, as she always did when he kissed her. But in his attempt to deepen the kiss and slide his hands past her waist, she was reminded that Jim was in fact drunk and this was not the place for PDA. 

‘Jim, not here.’ She protested, pulling away from the kiss but keeping his arms around him. 

‘Why not?’  He asked, leaning in to press a sloppy kiss on her cheek. 

‘I don’t particularly want Amos or Alex stumbling in here and catching us in a compromising position.’ She pointed out. 

‘Who cares? I’m all about compromising positions.’ He purred, placing his lips at a particularly electrifying spot behind her ear and stupefying her for a second. But she couldn’t be distracted right now. 

‘And that brings me on to point number two: you’re drunk right now. All you need is a large glass of water and a bed.’ She rolled her eyes when Jim moved back and gave her a knowing grin. ‘You know what I mean.’

‘When did you get so boring, Nagata?’ He goaded, lips slanting into an impish smile. 

Naomi shook her head and ignored his childish attitude. She stepped back, sliding her hands down his arms to grip his own and saying nothing further as she dragged him through the ship, having to stop and shush him multiple times when he bumped into various railings along the way. It felt akin to leading a toddler back to sleep after they’d woken up in the middle of the night. She felt a gut punch of bittersweet emotion as nostalgic feeling set in her gut from. But she pushed the feeling back down to the depths it rose from and pulled him through the door of their cabin. She placed him against the cabin wall and turned to shut it behind them.

‘Are you going to take me to bed now, Naomi?’ He enquired cheekily. 

The eye roll that followed after his question was almost reflexive at this point but again she kept quiet so as to not indulge him and instead pulled him from the wall and removed his t shirt. 

Or at least she tried to. 

It seemed as though vodka flipped a switch in Jim where he was no longer the stoic, responsible Captain they knew him as but rather a stubborn teen. Getting him to just lift his arms so she could take off his shirt was a mission she wasn’t prepared for. But it wasn’t too long before she had him in his boxers and under the covers. She quickly stripped off and lay next to him, sweeping his hair back from his face. Thankfully, by the time his head hit the pillow, he calmed down some and his eyelids drooped heavier than they did before. He, however, wasn’t ready to sleep apparently. 

‘I love you.’ He stated, stroking a tired arm down her spine. 

‘I know.’

‘You know?’ He mimicked pointedly. 

‘I love you.’ She echoed. ‘Of course I do.’ 

‘I know. But it’s nice to be reminded.’ His voice was clouded with sleep and alcohol but still he continued to speak. ‘Actually, I don’t think I say it enough. I’m so grateful to have come into your orbit, Naomi. You have taught me so much about myself. It hasn’t always been necessarily good between us but I don’t think I would ever change it. Maybe just more of the time we lost. But now we’re here and we’ve been through so much together and I don’t think I could have done it without you.’ 

Naomi felt her heart clench with warmth as he continued talking, her eyes filling with unexpected tears. She wasn’t sure she was ready to hear this; especially when he was in such a vulnerable state. 

‘Jim..’ She whispered hesitantly. 

‘No, shush. Let me finish.’ He placed a clumsy finger on her lips, stopping her from talking and drawing a breathless chuckle. 

‘Ok, sorry. Go ahead.’ She relented tearfully. 

‘You ground me. You are the glue that keeps this ship - this family - together. I don’t know where we would be without you. And outside of us you’re the smartest person I know, you’re logical and powerful and so so sexy. But more than anything you’re passionate and it’s always stuff that you care so deeply about. I’m so grateful for you, Naomi.’ 

By the time he had finished speaking, Naomi’s cheeks were wet. She couldn’t remember a time when he’d been so open with his feelings for her. The only time coming close in the controls room after she said she’d loved him for the first time. But this time it was unprompted and completely sucker punched her. 

‘I’m grateful for you, too Jim. I love you. So much.’ She professed, voice thick and shaky. ‘I would say more but I doubt you’ll remember it in the morning. How are you so eloquent when you’re so drunk?’ 

Jim simply responded with a mumble that resembled something the lines with ‘I don’t know’ but the snores that followed immediately after made it clear that he was in no position to elaborate. She stared at him lovingly even as he snored, feeling luckier than she had in a long time to be in the position that she was in despite all they had to deal with. She gazed at him for a moment longer before placing her head on his bicep, feeling content as she drifted away to sleep. 

-

Jim’s eyes flickered open but he felt disoriented as he did so. His mouth felt like someone had rubbed sand in it whilst he was asleep and his brain felt like it was trying to escape his skull. Then pieces of the night before flooded into his mind. 

Drinking with Alex and Amos. Rounds of Karaoke. A LOT of vodka. 

He lifted his head and felt his sins rise up from the depths of hell known as his stomach. He couldn't remember a time when he felt worse after a night of drinking and couldn’t remember a time when he’d regretted it more. His attention was drawn to the movement next to him and he realised that it was Naomi. Did he go out with Naomi too? He didn’t remember her being there. 

‘Good morning.’ She said smugly. 

But her voice was amplified even in the small room. 

‘Ugh, less volume thank you.’ He pleaded. ‘What happened?’ 

‘You got very drunk on vodka with Alex and Amos.’ She explained, eyes light with amusement. 

‘God no wonder I feel so awful. Why do you seem okay?’ 

‘Because I didn’t drink. But I’m glad you drank as much as you did,’ She admitted mysteriously. 

‘What do you mean by that?’ He asked, trying to rub the throbbing in his head. 

‘You mean you don’t remember giving Alex a lapdance?’ She questioned incredulously. 

Jim stilled. 

‘I did what?!’ 

‘Just kidding!’

Naomi gave him a wide, joking smile and even through his crippling hangover and rippling irritation, he still found her utterly captivating. So he matched her lighthearted energy. 

‘You’re insufferable.’ He told her. 

‘Yeah but you love me.’

‘Yes, I do.’

[xxthewolvenstormxx]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Expanse (TV), The Expanse Series - James S. A. Corey Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Jim Holden/Naomi Nagata Characters: Jim Holden (The Expanse), Naomi Nagata Additional Tags: S4 Speculation, Light Angst, Smut, Zero G Smut, Oral Sex, Sex Summary:

But, they were getting closer to Uranus. Closer to the ring. And as he looks at her, he can practically see the doubts crawling through her mind. Sees it in the subtle way she tugs on her bottom lip with her teeth. In the hard swallow and setting of her jaw. In the way her eyes won’t lock with his. A thousand fears growing stronger with each kilometer they crawl towards the Ring.

Will her bones crumble as soon as she steps outside the safety of the Roci? Will she go mad the first time she sees the horizon? Will she choke on the free air?

“Naomi…” he says. Trying to force her to look at him. Trying to force every bit of reassurance he can into his voice. Into his touch. Into the soft kiss he presses to her lips. “We got time.”

For Expanse Hype Week Day 4: Churn 

[truthofherdreams]

we’ll get through this

coda for 2x13 (ao3)

When he was younger, Mother Elise made Jim read all the classics. They even had some printed copies, dog-eared pages yellowed with time, careful every time he would pick them up from the shelf. Mother Elise would sit and read with him at first, then let him read on his own when he grew old enough to be trusted with the books. They would often discuss the stories, while she was cooking dinner and he was helping. Father Dimitri would sometimes chime in, but it mostly was a Mother-Elise-and-Jim thing, as most things were growing up.

Don Quixote left the most memorable mark on his memory, but it is Romeo and Juliet Jim finds himself thinking about right now. He remembers his first, visceral reaction when he read it – how come Romeo think himself in love with Juliet when he was so enamoured with Rosaline only scenes earlier?

It had taken two decades and a blown-up ship for him to understand – for Ade to become his Rosaline and Naomi to be his Juliet, as bright and mesmerizing as the sun.

He can’t even remember falling in love with Naomi, can’t point out when it happened exactly – just that one day he looked back, and asked himself how he didn’t realise sooner that she was perfect for him. That she was everything. And it is true what he told her, that his only regret would have been not to spend more time with her. They were working on the Cant together for months, years, and he never even noticed her, not in the ways that matter. He’s always noticed her brilliance, her cleverness – as acting XO, he knew to rely on her. If Naomi said she could fix a thing, the thing would be fixed. If Naomi said she needed more money, or more resources, or anything to fix a thing, he would give it to her and the thing would be fixed.

He trusted her with his ship then, and he trusts her his heart now.

Even as he looks at her now, the humming of the air con stretching between them in the silence of the galley. She fixes herself some breakfast, seemingly ignoring him, but the tension in her shoulders shows she is aware of his eyes on her. Still, she doesn’t say anything, not until she sits opposite him at the table with her coffee and what may or may not look like porridge.

“Are you ready to talk now?” she asks him.

There is no accusation or underlying meaning in her tone, just a genuine question coming after hours of silence and of him lost in his own thoughts. He used his broken leg as an excuse to take so time off and away from the rest of the crew, and Naomi was compassionate enough to let him play pretend. Not anymore.

Whatever it is, we’ll be alright.

He still believes his own words. Father Caesar had told him, once upon a time, that relationships are hard and need work. Even more so when you are more than two, he had laughed, but two can be quite complicated on its own. And Jim agrees with his father – relationships need work, and time, and compromises. And he wants, need to make it work with Naomi.

Because she’s it for him. She’ll always be it for him.

“I stand by what I said,” he tells her now.

She purses her lips, just a little. “But you’re still pissed.”

Jim sighs, moving in his seat just to stretch his leg a little more comfortably. His foot brushes against her ankle on her stool, and neither of them move away from the physical contact, as if needing the connection to keep going.

“I’m not, I’m just…”

“Pissed,” she finishes for him when he takes a second too long to find his words.

“Confused,” he corrects, even if the term doesn’t exactly convey what he means. Betrayed is too strong of a word, too. But perhaps something in between, like he can’t believe she would hide this from him when they make such a good team and he can’t understand why she did it in the first place, both the Fred Johnson thing and the hiding thing.

“You’d be terrible at poker,” Naomi points out before shifting in her seat. She leans with both elbows on the table, her hand moving closer to him without really reaching for his. So he does the reaching, her fingers cold against his palm. She offers him a small, tentative smile to which he responds by one of his own.

And then he sighs, shoulders dropping a little. “What if he did it?”

It’s been gnawing at him ever since Naomi told him – what if Fred Johnson did it, decided to commit a genocide of his own people. And for what? Having the upper hand over Earth and Mars? Showing them the Belt can be as powerful, if not more, because they have no problem killing their own if needed?

“We don’t know that,” she replies, too softly. Like she is battling her own demons, like it has crossed her mind more than once. He wonders if she feels about this the way he does about Eros – that none of it would have happened if he hadn’t made the first broadcast that started it all. Prax had called it a cascade, and he can see it now, the first domino that made all the other ones fall before they even had time to predict what would happen.

“We don’t not know that.” There’s a chance in three that Fred Johnson actually did do it, and they need to be prepared for the eventuality of it, mentally at the very least. But, still, Jim squeezes Naomi’s skinny fingers a little bit tighter, as to reassure her that he will be by her side, no matter what happens, no matter the consequences. If her sad smile is anything to go by, she gets the message.

Silence stretches between them again, long enough for Jim to finish his coffee and for Alex’s stupid Martian country music to start echoing through the entire ship. It is not an uncomfortable kind of silence, per se, definitely not as bad as what Jim expected out of this conversation, but there are still too many things lingering in the distance between them, too many questions he wants to ask but that would only make him sound defensive.

Instead, he chooses his words slowly, carefully, when he says, “I’m sorry I made it so you didn’t want to share it with me.”

There is pain in her big, brown eyes when she looks up at him. He hopes she is not going to start crying, because he wouldn’t know where to go from there. The way she was barely hiding her tears from him when he said his goodbyes was already his undoing, even more than the fact that he was about to die.

“You didn’t…”

“Yes, I did. I didn’t make it easy for all of you since Eros, and I’m sorry.”

She’s the one squeezing his fingers this time, before letting go. Jim is about to protest, but then she stands up and walks around the table, and before he knows it he’s moving so she can sit in his lap and press her forehead to his. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, lets the weight of her body quiet his troubled mind.

“We all have our demons,” she whispers.

Jim frowns, but otherwise doesn’t go further than that. There are things that he will not share with anyone, and he must allow her the same privilege. So instead, he nods against her forehead, and raises a hand to her neck. They don’t move, just appreciating the other’s closeness and warmth, just enjoying few moments of peace and quiet before the storm. Because a storm will come, he can sense it already. But at long as they are together, him and her and the crew, they will get through it.

“I love you,” he tells her simply, and feels her smile against his mouth before she kisses him.

They will get through everything.

[and-they-were-crewmates]

I don’t have any ideas for the ficlet prompts in my inbox but if anyone wants to send me more i would love to have them..... i’m working on a project that isn’t fanfic and I miss writing characters that I don’t have to invent personalities and lives for

i just wanna borrow james s. a. corey’s hard work and make them kiss send me jamos, nolden, or holden/amos/naomi prompts

[always-tilting-at-windmills]

Right in the feels!

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: The Expanse (TV), The Expanse Series - James S. A. Corey Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jim Holden/Naomi Nagata, Amos Burton/Jim Holden, eventual Jim Holden/Naomi Nagata/Amos Burton Characters: Amos Burton, Naomi Nagata, Jim Holden (The Expanse) Additional Tags: Angst, Polyamory Negotiations, Relationship Negotiation, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, it’ll get happier i promise!!!, roci gang on vacation, Rough Sex, Everyone has feelings and no one is talking about them, Developing Relationship Series: Part 2 of synchronous orbits Summary:

Following their camping trip, Amos, Holden, and Naomi navigate the new waters of their intertwining relationships.

—

Double update? Double update. This is very short and very self indulgent, but hey! I hope you enjoy it anyway. Please mind the warning at the top.

[frequentlydefiant]

this is an expanse fan blog now. that’s it. just the expanse. 24-hour expanse. one-stop expanse shop. all your expanse needs. expanse gifs. expanse gifsets. expanse photos. expanse photosets. expanse manips. expanse fanart. expanse links. expanse fanfic previews. expanse takes. expanse pants. expanse dance.

mostly naomi. also nolden.

and sometimes some unrelated gay shit.

[jamesholden]

Haha that’s okay, I understand. I was thinking of maybe a nolden fanfic post s3 finale, when they finally alone and in their cabin

Lord... that’s something I can try and play with. someone asked for my take on the 3.06 scene lead up too so i sense i will be thinking a LOT about the Roci’s Boom Boom Room in the coming months

[cyoza]

i thought you were dead

hello, hello! 

I got a request from a prompt list i reblogged a few weeks ago and its taken me a while I’m sorry and it’s a little short but I felt kinda intimidated by trying to get their characters right and i recognise they kinda already did this on the show and i get why they didn’t discuss it further on the show but it doesn’t mean i have to like it. so i kinda could only think of this instance for this prompt 

anyway i’ll stop rambling, this is my first nolden fic so pls be gentle but i hope it’s a good read! 

- 

The faint beep of the stats monitor pulled Naomi from unconsciousness and she cursed it immediately. Her whole body felt as though it had been in high G for hours and hours; her veins filled with ice water and burning lava at the same time. 

She mustered the miniscule strength she could find and pried open her eyelids, instantly rewarded with Jim’s soft mahogany gaze. She lolled her head to the side to face him fully as she lifted the corners of her mouth to give him a small smile. She hoped it would comfort him but the action only seemed to deepen the concern in his eyes. 

‘How’re you feeling?’ He asked redundantly, knowing well enough that she was probably in the worst shape she’d ever been in. 

‘I’ve been better.’ Her voice croaked with exhaustion, uncharacteristically weak. 

He said nothing then, not really knowing where to begin so he just pressed his lips together and continued staring at her but not really seeing her, lost in his own thoughts.

Why didn’t she trust him enough to tell him? 

How could he have been dense enough not to notice?

‘How’s Lucia?’ Her voice pulled his attention back to her but he paused before speaking, clearing his throat so it didn’t sound as tight as it felt. 

‘She’s okay. She’s resting in her cabin,’ He told her absently.

‘Jim.’ She started with a sigh, her voice gentle but firm as she slid her arm further down the autodoc to slip her hand into his.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ He interrupted, sensing exactly where she was heading with the conversation. ‘What happened to dealing with everything together?’ His tone was slightly accusatory but he couldn’t help it. 

‘I didn’t want to worry you. There was already so much happening and I didn’t want to add anymore problems. I thought I could handle it,’ She admitted. 

‘You could have died, Naomi. And for a split second, I thought you had. When we got you back on the Roci, before I got the autodoc on you. The way your eyes rolled to the back of your head, I thought you were dead. I thought we were too late.’ He swallowed hard as he recalled the moment, the remnants of fear rising up as he spoke. 

‘I just wanted to be part of this. All those Belters down here, they deserve all the help they could get. Murtry had no right doing what he did and we needed to stop him. They needed our help and I couldn’t just sit back and hang about in orbit.’ Her voice was stronger, filled with the passion that always shone through whenever she spoke about her people.

Jim could do nothing but let out a sigh, understanding why she did what she did but feeling no less frustrated about it. He lifted his free hand to cup her face and she leaned into it, both of them grateful for the contact. She looked paler than he’d ever seen her, the dark circles under her eyes contrasting starkly against her sickly complexion. Other times when their lives had been at risk, they had time to accept what was happening, to say goodbye. But this time, he could have lost her without even a final word and over something so stupid. He ghosted his thumb over the peak of her cheek as he let out a subconscious sigh, as if his body was trying to breath out the negative energy inside of him. He continued to scan her face as he thought of what could have happened if Alex and he didn’t in fact get there in time, his heart clenching painfully at the prospect. 

‘We already have so much stacked against us, Naomi. With everything we’ve been through, I can’t lose you over something so ridiculously preventable.’ He admonished softly. 

‘I know. I should have told you, I’m sorry.’ She apologised, gripping his hand just a bit tighter to punctuate her apology. 

‘I love you.’ He gave her a tender smile, leaning forward for a quick press of his lips on hers  and hovered over her, glad to be close to her. 

She didn’t say anything at first, lifting two fingers to swipe across her lips before she placed them gently on his. He’d seen the gesture a thousand times before but it never failed to send a tingling warmth prickling all over his body. 

‘I love you, too.’ She whispered. 

But she didn’t need to, he already knew. 

[truthofherdreams]

@rociposse asked for Nolden dancing. so of course I’m going full-on galactic ball, because I know what I’m about. set in a not-so-distant future where *vague hand movements* you know

When all is said and done, a message comes from Avasarala. It’s coming from too far away to be a two-way type of communication which, if Naomi had to guess, was the entire point. The message lasts barely more than a minute, an invitation of sorts – everyone involved in the events that unfolded since Eros are now cordially invited to a celebratory evening on Luna, and that includes the crew of the Rocinante. Avasarala looks as thrilled about it as Holden when he watches the message, and Naomi bites down a smile.

They can’t refuse, that much is certain. Not when they’re the poster children for everything this war represented – Earth and Mars and Belt coming all together in one crew, relying on each other to succeed. The fact that Holden is still seen as a hero and a martyr in the Belt doesn’t hurt either.

So Alex sets the coordinates for Luna. By the time they make it there, three full weeks of tensions and nervousness later, everyone had time to send messages to the right people and make plans. Holden had his parents ship his old naval uniform to Luna. Alex made sure his Martian one would be awaiting him on the little moon. Amos dipped in the join bank account to buy himself a nice suit.

Naomi still pretends she can just show up in her coveralls and be done with it.

She had a grand total of one nice shirt when she was younger, and she left it behind along with so many other things when she got off Ceres and never looked back. Now she has a grand total of four shirts, all with grease stains at best, blood stains at worse. And she’s pretty sure one of those shirts actually belongs to Holden and she just claimed it at some point.

Avasarala, of course, is having none of this shit – she tells Naomi so quite bluntly when Naomi shrugs with her hands at the older woman’s “What are you wearing?”. Bobbie, always unhelpful, just smirks at her over the Earther’s shoulder – she’s wearing the same uniform as Alex, of course, which makes it easier for her. Both to get dressed and to mock Naomi’s pain.

“Tonight, we’re showing them everything the Belt has to offer,” the older woman tells Naomi as she shoves a dress in her hands.

Naomi make a face at the obvious implication behind her words – Ceres’ whore houses are full of girls who are exactly like that, everything the Belt has to offer for curious Earthers and wandering Martians. “I’m not exactly sure…”

“Don’t argue with her,” Bobbie recommends, at the same time as Avasarala tuts her disapproval.

“Jimmy boy has been the fucking poster boy of this war for too long. Let’s give them another face to remember.”

Naomi’s cheeks heat up, even more so when she notices how very little fabric the dress actually contains. It takes a lot of arguing, and a lot of Bobbie rolling her eyes, before she finally manages to find something suitable to put on – something both she and Avasarala agree on, even if compromises are to be made on the accessories. Naomi never wore earrings before, and they feel heavy on her ears, the necklace almost choking her. At least she gets to wear comfortable shoes because, “I’m not that much of a sadistic fuck.”

By the time she makes it back to their suite, slowed down both by the heavy gravity and the constrictions of her dress, only Alex is in the room. He whistles under his breath at the sight of her.

“Damn, you do clean up nicely,” he tells her in that ridiculous accent of his.

“Not so bad yourself,” she replies with a tight smile.

He offers her his arm and a grin, and Naomi accepts both – her hand on his forearm as they make their way out of the suite and toward the large ballroom where the evening’s gala is held. Even used to the Roci’s state-of-the-art technology, she still gets thrown-off by how silent Luna’s station is compared to other stations. No venting system purring in the background, no reactors, no machinery to keep the white noise a constant. Just the silence that comes with expensive stations for expensive people. She wonders if this is what living on Earth feels like – being able to experiment complete silence at least once in your life.

Of course, complete silence is not on the table tonight, the murmurs of conversations and music growing louder with each step she takes until she can no longer ignore it, until she finds herself entering the ballroom. She blinks, once, twice, her brain barely able to comprehend what she is seeing – such a decadent display of wealth, from the champagne pouring freely to the food everywhere to the walls decorated with what can only be real, actual gold. She accepts a cup of champagne without meaning to, still staring at the high ceilings and impressive crystal chandeliers.

Only a soft, distinct, “Wow,” manages to get her out of her own thoughts. She turns around to find Holden in front of her. He looks nice and proper, naval uniform hugging his shoulders and cheeks freshly shaven, but the effect is lost on the way his eyes widen when they land on her body and linger for longer than is necessary.

The neckline is more plunging that she would have liked, showing more than she had hoped. Technically, she knows there is nothing wrong with her body – her bones are lighter, yes, and she is skinnier than women of Earth or Mars, but there is nothing particularly wrong with it otherwise. Hell, Holden seems to be liking her Belter boobs just fine, and it’s all that matters, right? Still, she feels naked and vulnerable with her breasts and her legs there for everyone to see, and the way her boyfriend keeps staring at her isn’t particularly helping.

He takes a few steps closer to her, until he is close enough to thumb the fabric at her hip and grin at her like the loon in love he definitely is. It doesn’t ease her nerves, not really, but it helps. Just a little.

“Hi,” he says, low and gravelly.

“Hello,” she replies, uncommonly shy.

She remembers a time on the Canterbury, forever and a lifetime ago, when half the population was fawning over him just for a chance at getting noticed. And how he only has eyes for her now, how different things are today than they were before. She remembers a time before being in love with him – simpler times, where all that mattered was to keep the ice-hauler working and to keep herself off the radar. She wouldn’t go back, not even for the protomolecule, not even for the deaths and heartbreaks and tragedies.

Because it gave her that man, her man.

And perhaps it is all that should matter.

“Let’s dance,” he tells her now, finding his words before she can even clear her thoughts. Naomi wants to protest, to disagree, but his hand is already on the small of her back as he pushes her toward the other dancing couples, and she has no choice but to follow him, but to awkwardly wrap her arms around his neck the way she saw actors do in movies.

“I’m not really good at this,” she admits.

He just smiles, leaning closer until his nose brush against hers. He’s never kissed her in public – she isn’t one for public displays of affection and he respects it, even if Naomi knows he would be all over her given the chance – and he isn’t about to start now, in front of politicians and otherwise intrusive people.

“You’re doing great so far.”

“Smooth,” she deadpans, making him grin once more.

He leads her all through the song, even if it involves a lot of swaying on the spot and very few actual dance steps. Not that it seems to matter to him when he can’t take his eyes off her, when his hands are warm on her skin and he keeps murmuring kind words into her ear.

Naomi is thinking about making a run for it – they have been spotted, their job is done there – once the song ends, but then some diplomat comes to talk to them and, before she knows it, they are being paraded around the room like prizes and introduced to people whose names she forgets in a moment. Their only relief is when Drummer shows up, seemingly out of nowhere. Fred Johnson and Holden have been doing such a great job of avoiding each other up until now, but it doesn’t stop the OPA man’s second-in-command from hugging Naomi tightly when she sees her, and to ask about her in a voice that would be cold on any other person but actually sounds excited to Drummer’s standards.

And then, “Old nag’s coming your way,” Drummer says before disappearing.

“Let’s dance,” Naomi adds before dragging Holden back to the middle of the room.

His low chuckles follows her, but he doesn’t complain. And it’s good, seeing him without the shadow of Eros hovering over him, without nightmares in the corners of his eyes. She was afraid she would never see that version of him again – not broken, but changed the way they all were, him more than others. But this Jim Holden is still there, somewhere, and given the time Naomi has no doubt she will get him back. Fully.

“Show me those Earther moves Amos told me about.”

He laughs, and he does. Introduces her to a few basic steps when the music is slow and romantic, spins her when a Martian rock song begins, sings the lyric to her along with an old Earther ballad. She dances, and sings, and laughs so much her cheeks hurt and she is out of breath – it has very little to do with Luna’s gravity on her lungs this time, and a lot to do with the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and the way he grabs her hips a little too tight.

Maybe the dress was a good idea after all.

Even more so when, much later, he gets rid of it.

[truthofherdreams]

The Coffeenante

every ship deserves a coffee shop au so here we are [the rock voice] you're welcome +ao3

Naomi is a creature of habits, you see. It keeps her grounded, after too many years as a reckless teenager with even more reckless thoughts. Many would find her daily routine boring, but she likes it that way, likes to know exactly where she is heading and what’s in the cards for her that day.

She wakes up at 7 every morning, gets breakfast ready and gets Filip out of bed, before school starts at 8. By 8.30 she’s at the shop, ready to start the day until 5. She doesn’t actually start before 9, though, so she always takes that half hour to go next door to the Coffeenante and order her coffee -- one cream, five sugars. On a good day (read: on a day where her favourite barista gets the morning shift) she will stay at the coffee shop and chat. Any other day, she will just go back to the shop and read the news on her phone before her own shift starts.

Habits, you see. They are a wonderful thing.

Still, nothing prepares her for the giggle that escapes her lips the moment she steps into the Coffeenante that morning. The coffee shop is almost empty but for a couple of customers, and Holden is next to the espresso machine, dying. Head hiding in his folded arms, he groans pitifully at the way the bell chimes above her, not even looking up. Naomi can’t help but smirk -- last night involved Drummer’s house and way too many bottles of vodka. Which Naomi loves on a daily basis, and was made even more entertaining by the fact that Bobbie was there, and ready to prove she could drink Holden under the table.

He’s never been really good at refusing a challenge.

Or at holding his alcohol.

Naomi refrains from running a hand through his hair, and instead plants both hands on the counter as loudly as she can, effectively startling him. Alex comes out of the kitchens at that exact moment, and just laughs at the way Holden now glares at her.

“Hello, Jimmy boy!” she exclaims.

He waves his hand in front of her face, still frowning. “Too loud. Too happy.”

She grins at him, even more so when Alex drops a shot of espresso in front of him and Holden downs it in a quarter of a second. He winces at the bitter taste, the frown a permanent feature between his brows. It shouldn’t make him look adorable, but it strangely does. Because Holden is really cute when he’s grumpy -- cuter still when he’s smiling at her, little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. Naomi never thought that type could be her type. Everybody and their mother know she’s always been into tough, bad boys.

But the whole farmer boy slash former navy guy slash soft barista seems to be working on her. And Holden still hasn’t noticed it, because she’s quite good at hiding her stupid school girl crush. Not that he’s going to notice today of all days, either.

Alex takes pity on him, serving Naomi her drink before she even has to ask, and she hands him a crumpled dollar bill with a roll of her eyes. She takes a sip, coffee burning down her throat, before she raises her cup to Alex in a silent thanks. He replies with a lazy salute, two fingers against his temple, and a smile so bright it makes up for Holden’s sour mood.

She’s by the door, ready to go back to work, when she hears him say, “Now I know you’re not faking it, boss. No way you ain’t noticing that crop top when sober.”

Naomi smirks to herself.

Maybe he noticed, after all.

 …

 Jim is a man of simple pleasures.

He enjoys a good cup of coffee first thing in the morning, and how crispy fresh the Montana air is during the winter. He loves to relax after a long day of word, and seeing Alex and Amos bicker like an old married couple. He likes his job, the nice customers who come by everyday, and how life is much easier now that he’s not in the navy anymore.

He also really, very, enjoys the way Naomi Nagata looks.

There is something particularly enticing about the way she only wears a black tank top under her coverall, and strips from the waist up when she is not working, showing more skin than he know how to handle. She always has smudged of grease everywhere, up her neck and down her arms, under her nails, but her hair remains flawless throughout the day, soft and bouncy and perfect.

She’s the highlight of his day, and he wishes he was less of a moron and knew how to ask her out. Ade’s rejection still lies uneasily in his stomach, and he’s wary of the potential heartbreak with Naomi’s name on it. Damn Mother Elise for turning him into a romantic sap who can’t deal with only the physical aspect of relationships.

Still, she makes his day when she walks into the coffee shop, a little less so when Jim notices the scold on her face and the way she stomps angrily to the counter. He’s known her long enough now -- five years of her working in the repair shop next door, five years of making her coffee every day -- that he doesn’t need her order, just prepares it right away while she’s glaring at the muffins like they kill puppies for sport.

“Should I ask?”

He hands her the cup of coffee, and she glares at it too before she takes it. Holden didn’t think anyone could angrily drink coffee, but Naomi is proving him wrong right now. Impressingly so.

“Oh you know, only Fred Johnson-” she turns around in the middle of saying the man’s name to glare at the door as if he were here- “being a massive pain in the ass right now.”

Jim can't help but grin a little. Johnson, Naomi’s boss, has always been a pain in the ass, asking too much and expecting even more. It keeps Naomi on her toes, arms-deep into engines only she can fix, keeps her mind sharp.

“It's not funny, Jimmy,” she goes on, glaring at him this time.

Jim ignores the nickname that only his mothers use, and that Naomi has taken to using too when she wants a reaction out of him. She's just bracing herself for a fight he won't offer, because arguing with her is the worst and only makes him ache for her more.

“Quit, then.” Her glare turns into a deadpan stare. “You're wasting your brain cells on this job when you should be working on time travel with NASA.”

Naomi shakes her head, but a small smile tugs up the corners of her mouth. “NASA doesn't work on time travel.”

“Cause they haven't hired you yet.”

The smile finally reaches her eyes, and it makes Jim grin in return. Even more so when she takes a sip of her coffee to hide the blush blossoming on her cheek, giving a pinkish hue to her dark skin.

“You're too charming for your own good, Holden.”

And back to last name basis.

“Only telling the truth, Nagata.”

She rolls her eyes halfheartedly, but the smile remains on her lips for a moment longer before it turns into something sad. “You know why, though.”

He does. He knows all too well about Marco and the judge and how easy it could be for her to lose Filip. How much she fought for him. How she will put him first, always, even if it means a life stuck in a crappy garage, wasting her potential.

“At least the neighbours are nice,” Jim replied, as cheerfully as he can. The underlying meaning obvious.

Naomi fakes thinking, pout in her beautiful lips. “At least there's that,” she agrees with a wink.

Jim’s heart sings a sweet lullaby.

 …

 Marco is allowed to see Filip once a month, for two hours, in public. She would like it if he were allowed to see Filip never, but the kid loves his father too much despite the gang tattoos on his arms and the bracelet around his ankle. So the Coffeenante it is -- public enough for Naomi’s comfort, and too mainstream for Marco’s buddies to show up.

The perk of knowing Holden or Amos could suckerpunch him any time helps, too.

She sulks in a booth, hands wrapped around a warm cup of tea and eyes throwing daggers at Marco’s skull. Filip’s little legs don’t even touch the floor, his sneakers lighting up blue and red every time they tap against the seat. The sharp contrast between his Captain America t-shirt and Marco’s greasy old shirt is just painful, and Naomi looks away in time to see Amos sliding in front of her into the booth.

He glares in Marco’s general direction too, but his presence is almost comforting in a weird way. She’s always felt safe with Amos by her side, even if (or perhaps especially because) she’s seen him beating people to a pulp on multiple occasions.

“You okay?”

She replies with a nod and a sip of her tea, and they don’t say anything much after that during the ten minutes that make his afternoon break. When he goes back behind the counter, Holden comes to replace him in front of Naomi. It almost makes her smirk, how protective of her and Filip they all are, the three boys she now considers family. They’re more of a father figure than Marco could ever hope to be. Not that he’s trying all that hard anyway.

Holden comes with refills, sliding a cup of coffee toward her. Naomi winces at the first sip, before she finally manages a smile -- definitely some whiskey in there. Holden grins at her, bright smile and wrinkly eyes, like the whole point was to surprise her. She admires, and appreciates, his effort.

“We still okay for tonight?” he asks.

They’ve planned on going to see Power Rangers, all four of them and Filip, because even if the kid has a shitty dad doesn’t mean he can’t have a badass mom. He’s been looking forward to it ever since they started talking about it last week, watching old episodes on Netflix and asking her to buy the toys and everything.

“Of course,” she nods. “Looking forward to it.”

This isn’t about her -- this very much is about Filip -- but still Naomi hopes Holden will sit next to her and hold her hand during the movie. Just because she was too young when she got a kid and she’s in a shitty situation, doesn’t mean a girl can’t dream.

She’s always been a romantic at heart.

 …

 It is Mei Meng’s birthday, which means both Filip and Alex’s kid are invited to the sleepover, which means Naomi shows up at the Coffeenante about half an hour after the end of her shift at the repair shops. She changed out of her work clothes, looking more like the evening crowd -- hipsters and students from Eros U for the most part -- than she could ever do with her coveralls. She even took a shower, if the lack of grease on her skin is anything to go by. Jim pretends not to stare, but.

She sits by the counter with a deep sigh, too loud to be natural, her usual hey notice me. Not that Jim could not notice her if he tried. She’s on his mind all day every day, like a itch you can’t scratch. A very beautiful itch, mind you.

Jim busies himself with making Naomi a drink, before he moves closer to her, leaning into her space with his elbows on the counter. Her eyes drift to his mouth, just a second but long enough for him to notice, and it takes all of Jim’s self-control not to lean closer still and kiss her.

“That’s sad,” is all he says instead, almost mockingly.

Naomi grabs a handful of coffee beans from a cup next to the till, and throws one at his face. “Didn’t ask,” she replies petulantly. And then, “I’m bored, okay.”

Jim grins. Entertaining her is easy, and so that is what he does for the next two hours or so, chatting with her in between serving drinks for the other customers, sliding cupcakes her way ever so often because he knows she’ll skip dinner if she doesn’t have to cook for Filip.

He almost expects her to get bored and go home at some point but she doesn’t, and she starts ranting about space and Star Trek and space in Star trek and some other shit he doesn’t understand, but damn if he will ever stop her when she’s willingly spending time by his side. That woman is out of his league, truly, and the selfish part of him hopes she will never notice, because he couldn’t deal with not having her in his life anymore.

Before Jim knows it, he’s putting the chairs on the tables and sweeping the floor while Naomi keeps talking and talking and talking about Star Trek, and Battlestar Galactica. Star Wars. Interstellar. Firefly. Even fucking Armageddon.

She’s talking at him more than anything else, so Jim only makes a comment every so often to let her now he’s still listening. He gets her in a fury when he asks if Han really did shoot first, and grins to himself as he finishes cleaning the espresso machine. Naomi trots behind him when he moves to the kitchens, and sits on one counter while he cleans there, and keeps talking. He’s never heard her talking that much before. Not that he minds.

He’s almost done with everything when she finally stops, the silence almost deafening. It makes him uncomfortable for a second, before Naomi drops a bomb on his.

“You never asked me out.”

Jim is glad he has his back to her, because it partially hides the way his entire body freezes on the spot, eyes widening and mouth opening in surprise. He recovers after a few seconds, and softens his features before he turns around to face her. She has an almost innocent look on her face, head tilted to the side and eyes curious, like she didn’t just tipped his world off its axis with only five words.

“I didn’t think you were interested,” he admits. “And then I didn’t think you were ready.”

He moves slowly, until he stands between her opened legs. Naomi bites down on her bottom lip, and looks at him through dark lashes, and all his blood rushes south in a second. It leaves him dizzy and stupid, and he puts his hands on her knees.

“I’m ready. Are you?” Dizzy enough not to know how to answer. She laughs. “It’s a yes or no question.”

“Yes.”

Her kiss tastes like coffee and cupcakes, and Jim decides he’ll never get enough of her.

[truthofherdreams]

missing scene before Ganymede, when my babies were happy and together

The beds on the Roci are better than anything Naomi has ever experimented before. The Cant was a piece of junk, with mattresses so thin there was no point in sleeping on them, and every other place where Naomi had lived before that wasn’t any better. Not that Naomi ever complained about it – how can you, when you don’t know any better? – but now she definitely feels the difference. Even more so since she took to sharing Holden’s bed, his captain’s cabin definitely an upgrade from the already more than comfortable bunk beds in the room she shared with Alex and Amos.

Lying on her stomach, she hugs a pillow close to her so she can hide her face in it, smiling at Holden’s ramblings at the screen in front of him. Monthly message to the parents it is, even if he keeps most details to himself and focuses on the (meager) positive news he can share. Naomi wonder what it feels like, knowing someone is worried enough about you that you’d go out of your way to contact them and to keep the truth from them as much as you can.

She thinks of her baby boy. Stops right there.

She shakes the thoughts away just in time to see Jim hovering over her, cups of coffee in hands. She takes one from him and scoots to the side, leaving him enough space to lie by her side before she snuggles against him and balance the mug of coffee on his chest. He smiles at her, all wrinkly eyes and soft lips, and as always Naomi feels her heart growing fonder, warmer. She loves that disaster of a man, even more so than she thought possible.

“Mother Elise says hello,” he tells her softly.

It makes Naomi grins, just a little – the knowledge that all those people know about her, about them, and salute her whenever they can. Jim takes his kindness from them and, not for the first time, Naomi finds herself thanking them for everything. For raising him into the rightful man he became, from breaking him just enough that he would run away from Earth and find his way to her.

“I wish I could meet them,” Naomi replies, and she means it.

They both know it’s impossible – her bones wouldn’t be able to hold her against Earth’s gravity, her lungs would collapse before she even realises what happens. Earth is just a dream to her, just a little blue dot in the sky that she admires from afar. Her father’s family comes all the back back from London, and she wonders what England looks like now. Dominican Republic, on her mother’s side, was wiped out of the map by the ocean rising decades ago.

“How’s the ocean, really?” she finds herself asking.

Jim’s fingers are in her hair as he pouts and searches for his words, his palm warm against the buzzed part of her skull. He plays with one ringlet, pulling on it until it’s way longer than the rest, then letting it go. She would roll her eyes, but she likes being pet too much to complain; he calls her a cat, and she cannot deny it.

When he finally answers, it is with careful words and an even more careful tone. “I only saw it once, when I was a kid. Too much work on the farm, so we didn’t travel much, but Father Caesar had to go to Seattle once and he took me with him.” He stops and licks his lips, before he goes on, “It was grey, and dirty, and just another reminder that we will destroy everything around us just because we can.”

Naomi’s smile withers at his words, and Jim sighs in reply – it is obvious he didn’t want to let her down, didn’t want to crush her fantasy of a perfect Earth with its blue sky and animals and sea that goes on and on. But James Holden wouldn’t be James Holden if he wasn’t so fucking devastated by what people did to his planet. How they turned heaven into hell and never stopped to think twice about what they were doing.

“You would love snow, though,” he goes on with an apologetic smile.

“I don’t think my people were made for cold weather,” she replies with a tease.

He grins, just a little, as his fingers travel down her skull and settle on her neck. “It’s not about the cold, it’s – everything around it. Like how crisp the air is, just – sharp, you know. And everything is silence, like the world is holding its breath and waiting to see what’s happening next. It’s so beautiful.”

He’s never been a man of pretty words, never one to wax poetry about things, but Naomi still smiles at the way he describes the winter in so little words. She has a hard time actually picturing it, between the few memories of snow she has from movies and old photographs and how she’s never experimented anything beside the stale air of a ship or station. She wishes her imagination was sharper, bolder. For now, she will have to do with Jim’s words and the limits of her own mind.

“Did you have a dog?” she asks, barely able to contain the excited curiosity out of her voice.

Jim barks out one sharp laugh, before he leans to kiss her nose. “Sadly, no. But we had a few cats, to keep the mice away. They’re supposed to be feral, but I always got to sneak one into my bedroom at night.”

“Cats,” she sighs in wonder. “I want a cat.”

He laughs again, the sound of happiness. “I’ll get you a cat,” he promises.

Somewhat, she wants to believe him.

[truthofherdreams]

you’ll blow us all away

I am playing VERY fast and loose with the canon of the books (which, lmao, I haven't read yet) and what was heavily hinted at during 2x08 Pyre.

So, spoilers, I guess?

Even if it's most likely going to get jossed quickly enough, this is my take on Naomi's past and secrets.

Naomi’s heart falls in her stomach the moment she hears the news. Holden’s face is grim, as it ever is, when he announces that the protomolecule was found on Ceres. Blood rushes to her ears, ringing until the high-pitched tone makes her dizzy and breathless and all she can think is Ceres Ceres Ceres Ceres. Naomi tries to take a breath, but it gets stuck in her throat and she chokes on it, chokes on her own feelings and the panic rising within her, drowning her thoughts and her heart and ringing and ringing and ringing in her ears.

“We need to go back.” She doesn’t recognize the hollow echo of her own voice, and it may sound strange to Holden’s ears too if the way he looks at her is anything to go by. Alex is frowning, Amos knows too much for his own good, and Holden looks at her like she just lost her goddamn mind for good. She can’t exactly blame him, when she feels like going mad.

“No way,” he replies in a gruff voice. “If it’s unstable, Ceres is doomed.”

Which – she can’t exactly blame him for it, not after Eros, not when he wakes up in a cold sweat every few days. She can’t blame him for protecting himself and his crew but she also very much hates him for it, right now.

“We don’t know that,” she argues. “We could save lives, save people and–”

“Naomi, no.” His eyes are pained, her knight in a shining armour who will never be able to save everyone, who will always shoulder the weight of the lives he lost. Ceres will be on him, the way he still blames himself for Eros, for the little ship he blasted off, for everything and everyone.

Any other day, Naomi wouldn’t push.

But this isn’t any other day.

“This is our people, Holden. Our friends. Our families. We – we can’t just –”

“Enough.” His voice deepens into that tone he only uses when he plays captain – when Alex is getting frisky or when Amos is being, well, Amos. Never on her, not in a long while at least, perhaps because they both know it would be useless and they both know she will do as she wishes anyway.

“No.” She gets into his face, chin up to make up for the few inches he has on her. Surprise flashes through his eyes at her suddenly proximity, and she’s pretty sure Alex sucks in a breath at her act of defiance. Holden wrinkles his nose, just a little, before he glares back. “We go to Ceres, we assess the situation, and we save those damn lives.”

Holden doesn’t reply, not at first. Instead, he engages in her staring contest, levelling her with even eyes. They’ve been doing this a lot in bed, staring and staring until one of them blinked and the other laughed in victory, childish and playful. It is different now, heavy with too many words Naomi refuses to utter, while Holden looks at her like he is trying to read her damn mind – and wouldn’t those superpowers he never developed be handy right now?

“What aren’t you telling me?”

She squares her shoulders, bracing herself for the lie that slips out of her tongue. “Nothing.”

“Don’t play that game with me,” he snaps back. They are definitely making a scene now, in front of Alex and Amos no less. “You’ve been acting strange since we left Tycho, ever since the whole thing with Meng and so help me if it has anything to do with Fred John–”

“MY SON,” she hears herself yell. “My son is on Ceres, Jim.”

Alex definitely sucks in a loud breath this time, Amos shifting in the corner of her eye, but all Naomi can focus on is the stricken look on Holden’s features – surprise and pain and betrayal mixing together in a strange grimace that he barely manages to erase into a more neutral expression. He’s always worn his heart on his sleeve, after all, even more so when she was involved.

Naomi shifts on her feet, trying to be taller than she actually feels but mostly failing. It is sheer stubbornness that keeps her feet planted on the ground, that keeps her from running away from him, from this conversation, from absolutely everything and anything.

A muscles twitches in Holden’s cheek when he asks, “Why didn’t you tell me?” And then, when he realises how harsh the words are on his tongue, a second time – his voice soft, his eyes gentle. “Naomi, why didn’t you tell me?”

She wets her lips and swallows down the tears she has been refusing to shed for years now. There is no point, she tells herself, she only needs to move on and away from the life she used to call hers. There is no point anymore -- she has been mourning for far too long, the what ifs and if onlys that kept her awake after the incident, staring at her boy’s picture on her tablet until her eyes burnt and her throat was dry.

“What was I supposed to say, Jim? That my OPA husband took my OPA son from me and is now raising him in his OPA base?” Holden’s eyes widen at her words, and she wants to laugh bitterly. “What, you thought this-” she points at her own neck- “was just a birthmark?”

She is being unfair, she knows -- misplacing her anger and her bitterness, getting herself worked up over things she cannot change. But damn if she wants to be angry, to yell and scream and punch a wall until her knuckles are bloodied, until her brain drowns in a sea of painful memories.

Instead, Naomi chances a glance Alex’s way. His eyes are nothing but kind and understanding, and perhaps it is the worst part -- someone who knows what she is going through. Not entirely, not really, but just enough to make her feel like she isn’t so alone anymore.

And perhaps this is the scariest thought of all -- getting people’s empathy and sympathy. She can’t deal with this right now, not when she feels like exploding. So, with a last glance at Holden, she walks away as fast as she can without running. Amos takes a step toward her, but she stops him with a raised hand and a ‘I’m fine’ that sounds hollow even to her own ears. Not that she wants to convince them anyway, her feelings written all over her face.

She’s about to make it back to the kitchen, hoping against hope that she can find some of Miller’s hidden stash somewhere, when fingers wrap around her wrist. “Amos, I told you, I’m--”

But of course it isn’t Amos. Of course it is Holden, with his puppy eyes and his puppy face. (Naomi has never seen a dog in her life but if she has to guess, that’s what a puppy face looks like.) She squares her shoulders once more, ready for yet another fight. And aren’t they doing this a lot lately, the pushing and the pulling, the never-ending arguing. Keeping each other in check, no matter how mentally draining it can be at times.

“What’s his name?”

The question takes Naomi by surprise, so much so that she takes a step back as her mouth first opens in silence. She finds her words quickly enough, though. “Filip,” she says, ignoring how it sounds as it rolls on her tongue for the first time in years. “His name is Filip. He’s twelve.”

Holden nods, a solemn tilt of his head. “We’ll try our best.”

She is at lost for words for a moment, and can only reply, “You’re not mad.”

“Of course I’m mad.” But he sighs and moves closer, raises a hand to cup her jaw and tilt her head up. “But you are hurting, so right now your feelings matter more than mine.” Naomi tries for a smile, but it might as well be a grimace. “Whatever makes you feel like you can’t trust me with your past -- I want you to know that I will never judge you. I love you far too much for that.”

Naomi wonders what she did to deserve him -- this intense, beautiful, caring man who will always put her first, who will always try his best with her. She was too young with Marco, too besotted to notice how wrong they were for each other. How wrong he was for her. But Holden is her person -- he understands her in a way nobody ever did, loves her in a way nobody ever did. And it is hard for her, to put her unconditional truth in someone and hopes they will not use that against her. But Holden is good. A good man.

“Thank you,” she finds herself whispering, before she finds her way to the comfort of his embrace. He’s warm and solid, all Earth muscles and careful hugs. Her nose pressed against his collarbone, she sighs deeply, lets herself be comforted.

“You think he’ll like me?” he asks softly.

Naomi finds herself laughing.

Yes, definitely her person.

[truthofherdreams]

It’s in the little things, she decides.

It is the way he drinks his coffee every morning – or at least, every whatever-the-hell-is-morning-in-outer-space. His eyes are still half-closed, lids heavy with the sleep he hasn’t fully shaken off quite yet, and he navigates his way to the kitchen with the ease that only comes after months in the same enclosed space. The way he puts the mug under the coffee machine is all but delicate, but his fingers barely brush the button before he leans against the counter with a groan. Naomi watches him from her spot at the table – always the first to wake up, way before Alex or Holden, or even Amos who takes forever to get out of bed. And then she smiles at him, fond, amused, when Holden finally gets his first sip of coffee and sighs deeply. Eye closed, head tilt back, his Adam’s apple working as he gulps down the precious liquid. And then he looks at her staring at him, and smiles – little wrinkles around his eyes, and her heart growing bigger, warmer.

It’s how he forces himself not to touch her when they’re on deck, leaning above her chair and giving his orders. It’s the way his fingers will linger above her shoulder but never graze, because Amos is sitting just next to her, because Alex is waiting for his next command, because they have shit to get done and places to be and Holden is a great many things but unprofessional he is not. Not when the weight of the lives they lost still hangs heavily on his shoulders, not when he believes he needs to save the entire galaxy and then some. He leans into her personal space, Naomi’s breath caught in her throat, but in those moments he’s her captain, not her – whatever he is to her.

It’s the weekly messages he sends his mother, talking about the crew’s latest exploits and the people they saved, the successful missions. He smiles to himself as he leans above the speaking device, and glances at her when he tells his mother that everything is fine, and he can’t wait for her to meet his crew, and he hopes she’s proud. Naomi has never been much of a family girl – you learn not to get attached to anyone in The Belt, not even your parents, not even your family. But Holden is too much of an Earther for his own good, and he loves his mother so much it makes Naomi melt a little. He tells her he will introduce them, one day, her and his mother and his father and his mother and… And she smiles, and kisses him, and laughs at this big sap that wants himself tough.

It’s how he looks up to her, when a decision needs to be made and he can no longer handle being captain, can no longer deal with the role that was thrust on him when he didn’t ask. Nothing but a glance, a nod, a touch of her hand against his – nothing but a silent conversation that lasts a second but means so much. He values her input more than anyone ever did, and trusts her to make the hard choices with him. He trusts her with his crew, his ship, his hero complex, and she opens her arms to him willingly. Figuratively or not, hugging him to her in the darkness until he stops shivering, until she chases away the nightmares that have been plaguing him since Eros.

It’s this and so much more – his smiles, the way he rolls his eyes at Alex’s magic tricks, his sarcastic banter with Amos, and how he laughs at the insults she throws at him. It’s the way he wraps his arms around her waist to hug her from behind. It’s the stupid Earther baseball cap he insists on wearing. It’s his shirt fitting so well to his body. It’s his voice, rolling like rocks carried by waves.

It’s this, and so much more, that has Naomi certain that she loves him.

[jamesholden]

Jim Holden Appreciation Week: Day 6 | Favorite Fanworks

I’m still working on my Day 5 set so I thought I’d pause to throw around some positivity to two of my fellow Holden content creators: @cachekakusu / @laviecammecicammeca and @captainnagata .

Cam and I have been tag teaming and tag screaming for quite a while now. She’s one of our consistent gif makers, namely for Holden, Naomi, and Nolden. So you can see why we gravitated towards each other. She, like so many of us, has struggled with the coloring and lighting of this space jam to bring us some of the best gifsets and jokes we’ve got. It was a no brainer to choose the gif I chose for her, since that was one of the most fun times we had together, talking about this scene. 

Cam is fun and positive and hard working. She’s been on a bit of a hiatus in recent months working hard, and as much as I miss her sometimes I super admire her for making the decisions she did. I can’t wait for season three to roll on up so we can see more of her talent and work and hilarious jokes at Holden’s expense.

Morgane is one of the James R. Holden Defense Squad team members like me. She’s always been a supporter of bi!Holden, always ready to jump in when people question Holden’s trauma and pain and emotionality. And THOSE FUCKING GIFSETS LIKE DAMN. That “sorry, universe” one still gets me staring every time. I love that thing. Like I mentioned before, dealing with the lighting and coloring of this show isn’t easy. But like Cam, Morgane makes it look like child’s play. And they’re some of the most beautiful and creative gifsets we have.

In addition, Morgane is one of our fanfic writers! She’s got the cutest and most creative ideas, and I’ve loved every snippet she’s sent me. She’s got a great grasp of the characters we love, and does an amazing job of tying all these book details into her modern AUs. Her Nolden fics are always emotional and beautiful and I loved reading every one that popped up in the tags. I can’t wait for more! I love them!!!!! That AU where Holden is a mess of a teacher like please gal please. Gimme. 

I love these two ladies and I hope hope hope we get more crazy good content from them soon!

[truthofherdreams]

Hi! I read your post about The Expanse fandom not really nurturing fanfic, and while admittedly don’t read fanfic much myself, I do have a request. I haven’t read the books, but I keep wondering how season 3 might start re: nolden. I know he needs to apologize for creating a situation where Naomi felt like she had to lie about the protomolecule. But I don’t see that as the final resolution to their differences. Because I’d think Holden would be at least a bit miffed that Naomi was possibly undermining his own (futile) mission to destroy the protomolecule. Does that rupture any trust they have between them; does he direct more of that anger to himself for leading the crew to a mission they’d never accomplish. How does the team get back on the same page? How does Naomi feel more comfortable voicing her opinion, especially about the politics of the Belt? Have you ever written a fic that kind of imagines how this situation resolves itself or would you write one about these issues? How would you resolve this plot? Sorry for the long submission and the thousands of questions I’m asking!

I wrote this coda for 2.13, which isn’t going in the direction you’re talking mostly because 1) Holden has enough self-awareness in his body to understand he fucked up at some point, 2) my favourite thing about Holden and Naomi is the fact that they are in a real, mature relationship where they talk things through instead of immediately getting upset at each other, and 3) I read the books so I know how it actually plays out and I’m not really interested in either doing a retelling of the book into the show canon or in diverging from the book canon because I so happen to like how it played out