#and then in the beginning of season two he Becomes a missing persons case however briefly. that was very good

[aromanticasterisms]

finding out your favorite character is canonically ace is such a good feeling. i sensed their psychic vibes.

[ijustliketoreadstuff]

Kwamis choice part 1 , “Transmission” analysis

The two part episode starts with Marinette struggling with the events of “Elation”. After having realized that her love for Cat Noir had caused her to loose control of her emotions and nearly got her akumatized, Marinette begins to ponder over weather or not she is suited to be the ladybug miraculous holder after not only allowing her feelings of love to lead her to lose the miraculous to Monarch, but also allowing it to nearly get her akumatized and lose the ladybug earrings(more here). Tikki tries to convince Marinette to leave the confines of her room by convincing her that she should be ready in case an akuma attack appears. Although Tikki’s efforts were meant to break Marinette out of her depressive state, Marinette believes Tikki should take the Ladybug earrings and entrust them to someone who would not only be suited to take her place, but have the better sense to not commit the same mistakes she did. Marinette had long considered herself to be a normal girl with a normal life, however, throughout the seasons, her views of what it means to be normal have shifted ( more here), resulting in her believing she is just some ordinary girl who is no where near as great as others claim she is, not because she couldn’t save the day, but because she had developed what she believes to be a petty weakness which resulted in disaster after disaster, that weakness being of course, love.

To Marinette, love has become the one obstacle in her life she simply could not find a way of succeeding at, while still maintaining her responsibilities as Ladybug, (more here)

Not knowing what to say to Marinette to lift her spirits, Tikki tells her to find solace in Alya as she is the only person(that they know of) who is aware of Marinette’s identity and can help reassure her as she to was the holder of not only the fox miraculous but the ladybug miraculous as well back in “Hack-san”. Marinette refuses as she deems love her weakness and something which can be passed onto others.

Tikki sees Adrien calling next but does not say anything as she knows it will only further Marinette’s sadness.

At school, everyone takes note of Marinette’s absence, but do not question the odd behavior in her voicemail as they assume she is just not feeling well and needed to take the day off from school. However, Adrien alone is aware that she is likely still devastated over having her heart broken by Cat Noir.

As miss Bustier asks Alya to deliver Marinette’s homework, Alya and Nino realize this is a perfect opportunity to have Adrien deliver the homework to Marinette’s himself, in order to give them the time they need to be alone together to properly talk and express their affection without interruption.

Sidenote: As Chloe takes delight in reminiscing about the days when Marinette would need to request permission from her to attend school, we come to find that Chloe’s past bullying towards Marinette was much more severe than initially assumed at the beginning of the series, “Origins part 1″, when Marinette expressed displeasure in knowing Chloe would be in the same class as her again, giving Chloe the advantage to bully her for another year.

As Adrien walks to Marinette’s house, he contemplates the events of “Elation” and thinks about everything he had done and said to Marinette as Cat Noir to not only break her heart, but also lead her to be akumatized. Plagg confirms he did in fact screw up and led to Marinette’s current saddened state, however, Plaggs attempts to remind Adrien of how much pain Marinette had faced after attempting to confess her love for Cat Noir, additionally appears to be his attempts to keep Adrien from accidentally saying something that could persuade him into revealing his identity to Marinette as he will soon face her in private.

Adrien is determined to make up for his mistakes and is willing to do what he can to cheer up Marinette. As Adrien questions Marinette about what he can do to help her feel better, Marinette states no one can help her as no one is capable of understanding who she really is and the circumstances she is under. Although she knows someone like Alya is aware of her secret identity and her actions as Ladybug, Marinette quickly understood in “Elation” that even Alya had a hard time understanding her regardless of how insistent she was about knowing how she felt about certain matters, such as her love for Cat Noir and her explanations about Lila being a fraud.

Adrien remarks and states he understands Marinette’s situation as he to has lived his life where not many know of his true self, only the version of him that’s depicted as an image of perfection for advertising purposes. Adrien tries to convince Marinette that although they can not find solace in others knowing who they really are without being questioned, they could instead get to know each other and learn about who they really are, regardless of what others may think.

Although Marinette understands his intentions, she knows he can not help her with her situation as it revolves around her secret as Ladybug and becoming seemingly incapable of letting others love her, as well as letting herself love others in return, without it interfering with her duties. The fear of potentially causing a major disaster from her desire to fulfill her love story, outweighs any reasoning Adrien has to say.

As Tikki and Plagg listen to their conversation, they worry over the possibility of them revealing their identities to each other the more they hear their conversation inch closer and closer to one of them explaining who they really are, all in an attempt to better know each other. The two kwamis knock over the trashcan they are hiding behind, momentarily distracting Adrien and Marinette, but quickly leading Marinette to remember the failures caused by her attempts to pursue her feelings towards Adrien as she looks at the photos of him she threw away back in “Elation”, which simultaneously also reminds her of her failed attempts to pursue a romance with Cat Noir after renouncing her love for Adrien.

Despite Marinette proclaiming herself as a failure who is unable to achieve what she wants, specifically towards her wishes to find happiness within her love life , Adrien can no longer stand to hear Marinette belittle herself and proclaims to her that he loves her just the way she is (more here). Surprised by Adrien's declaration towards her, Marinette is unsure of what to say but quickly realizes that so long as she is Ladybug and holds the responsibility of protecting the miraculous, as well as Paris, she must not let her weakness(love) take the better of her once again, and with that, Marinette's tells Adrien that despite having feelings for him in the past, those feelings are now gone, she no longer loves him.

(Marinette stares at the ladybug earing and is reminded of her burden)

At school ,everyone celebrates over the possibility of Marinette and Adrien finally confronting each other about their feelings and becoming a real couple just as they had all hoped they would be. Since the beginning, they have all been invested in Marinette and Adrien’s clear attractions towards one another, but inability to express their affections for each other. Marinette and Adrien’s dilemma had prompted all of them to do whatever they could to help them find their way to one another, however, despite believing victory is now at hand after all the constant failed attempts to bring them closer together, Zoe is the only one among them who does not feel reassured over the situation as she hears Marinette’s distressed voice in her voicemail. Despite Alya and Nino’s attempt to reassure her everything is fine , Zoe cant help but feel something is wrong and does not participate in everyone's celebration, knowing no one can confirm if Adrien succeeded in helping Marinette out of her slump.

Back in Marinette’s room, after hearing her reject his declaration of love, Adrien asks Marinette if they will ever have another chance at what could have been a very happy relationship, but as Marinette stares at the ladybug earing in her hand, she is once again reminded of her burdens and the consequences she can no longer afford to bring should she once again make another attempt to allow herself  to pursue her love for someone like Adrien.

Devastated over Marinette's rejection and believing there is no chance for the two of them to be together, Adrien’s extreme negative energy once again catches the attention of Monarch. However, before Monarch sends off his akuma, he contemplates what he is about to do and decides to instead see Adrien in person as Gabriel.

While Adrien walks home, Plagg returns to Marinette’s house to talk to Tikki about their holders dilemma. Despite knowing it is their love for one another that gives each of them the drive they need to support each other and push forward as Ladybug and Cat Noir, Plagg has now understood that so long as their heroic responsibilities remains hanging over them, Marinette and Adrien will never be able to be free to express their affection towards one another. Rather than continue to sit idly by as their holders suffer in prioritizing their responsibilities as Ladybug and Cat Noir over their own personal happiness, Plagg and tikki decide to  make the one choice neither Marinette or Adrien are willing to make. As the kwamis of the ladybug and Cat miraculous, Plagg and Tikki decide for themselves to free their holders of the heavy burdens entrusted to them, so they can finally be free tp live out their love story in peace. 

Back at school, as everyone continues to rejoice in believing Marinette and Adrien have finally found the moment they need to confess their feelings and become a real couple, as they celebrate, we come to find that it has been 9 months and 12 days since Marinette and Adrien met each other and became the heroes of Paris. Although Zoe questions weather or not anyone truly knows if things went well between Marinette and Adrien, everyone feels assured that so long as neither Marinette or Adrien have contacted anyone, it means no trouble was faced which would need their attention, after all, they have all grown accustomed to Marinette and Adrien contacting their group if and whenever either of them have faced some sort of disaster.

Despite everyone's reasoning, Zoe still feels something is wrong, but knowing fully well that Marinette is not answering anyone's phones calls, she quickly  looks to Nino to plead with him to call Adrien and confirm to her, as well as everyone else, that their is truly nothing to worry about. Knowing Zoe can’t feel at ease through their words alone, Nino decides to take Zoe’s worry into consideration and calls Adrien to confirm to her that Marinette and Adrien are together and ok.

However, as Nathalie answers the phone out of Adrien's request, Nino and everyone else quickly realizes Zoe’s suspicions were correct, something had in fact gone wrong. Not knowing the situation just yet, Alya worries that Marinette may never be able to find success in her love life.

Meanwhile, at the Agreste mansion, Nathalie sees Gabriel make his way to Adrien's room, however, knowing fully well that Gabriel is no longer the man he once was, Nathalie becomes defensive over the possibility of Gabriel planning to use Adrien's distress to his advantage in his battle against the heroes. Gabriel reassures her he is simply trying to comfort Adrien and nothing more, explaining that he is not a monster who would stoop so low as to purposely take advantage of his own son during a time when he simply needs the comfort of his father. Nathalie begrudgingly lets him pass, unsure of weather or not Gabriel is truly being honest with her. As Nathalie walks away, Gabriel quickly shifts his expression from a smile to a frown, annoyed by Nathalie's continued efforts to stand in his way if and whenever he is attempting to interact with Adrien.

Despite what at first appears to be his attempts to comfort Adrien, Gabriel quickly switches the subject to the alliance rings and once again attempts to bring them up as something which will provide many positive benefits to Adrien's life, his broken heart and his family. Adrien thanks him, and as Gabriel leaves his room, we see Gabriel express a sinister smile, revealing that Nathalie’s concerns were correct, Gabriel’s claims to comfort Adrien was simply his attempts to get close to him and provide him a new alliance ring which will transfer him a power of a miraculous the moment he does akumatize him, revealing that after contemplating weather or not he should akumatize his own son, Gabriel has now decided to do so if given the chance

However, unbeknownst to Gabriel, Adrien decides for himself to not wear the alliance ring and immediately takes it off the moment his father leaves the room. Adrien explained to his father back in “Illusion” that he would prefer to not wear the rings regardless of the benefits his father claims to bring him. Although Adrien wants to continue to abide by his own choices, Adrien feels conflicted about confronting his father once more and explain his disapproval of being an avatar for the alliance rings so long as he appears to make effort to be a more caring father towards him and because he still feels guilt for questioning his motives to be a good father, and purposely setting his “akumatization” back in “Illusion”.

As Marinette and Adrien struggle with their conflicting emotions, Tikki and Plagg appear to free them of their title and burden as the ladybug and cat miraculous holder. Despite Marinette and Adrien's concerns, Tikki and Plagg reassure them their responsibility to wield the miraculous and defeating Monarch was always something which could be entrusted to someone else, there will be other successors who are just as capable and willing to take on the task and responsibility of protecting and wielding the miraculous.

Marinette and Adrien try to convince their kwamis they do not need to go to such lengths, but abide by their kwamis choice none the less as they do not know what more they can do to prevent their heroic duties from interfering with their lives and attempts to be together. Marinette and Adrien understood the miraculous was never their right to keep, it was a responsibility that could be entrusted to someone else if anything happened to them. 

As the kwamis depart, their goodbyes to their now former holders are similar yet different to one another. Tikki says she will never forget Marinette, while Plagg says Adrien will never forget him, (more here). Upon realizing that they no longer have their miraculous and responsibilities as heroes, Marinette and Adrien immediately feel the weight of their burden lifted. Now that she is no longer Ladybug, Marinette decides to give her love with Adrien another chance and immediately recovers the photos of him she threw in the trash, meanwhile Adrien realizes he still has Marinette's homework, taking it as a sign that he should return to her house and give himself another chance to clarify his feelings as well as Marinette's feelings for him. Meanwhile, Monarch attempts to akumatize Adrien, but fails, not knowing of the events which transpired which lifted Adrien’s spirits.��

Monarch immediately senses another negative emotion and instead focuses on them. At Marinettes house, Adrien arrives and sees Marinette returning the photos of him back onto her wall, making him feel hopeful about the situation. As Marinette apologizes for rejecting him earlier, Adrien asks if it was true that she didn’t love him anymore. Despite Marinette's best efforts to express her love for Adrien, her body once again restrains her from doing so. Not understanding why it is she can never say exactly how she feels, Adrien senses her struggle and immediately suggests another way to properly tell him what she is thinking. Adrien suggests he ask her questions, and depending on what she wants to say, she can raise the left arm for no and right arm for yes a a response. Adrien’s method works and the two reconcile, realizing that they do in fact share the same feelings for one another. 

At the school, everyone struggles trying to understand what led to Marinette and Adrien to fall into despair and attempt to figure out why they are still unable to express their obvious affection for one another. As the group immediately work to brainstorm another plan to help them get together, Plagg and Tikki appear from the ceiling of the building, deciding to choose someone among Marinette and Adrien’s social circle to be the new holders. As everyone talks, Alya receives a call from Nora, but after silencing her calls multiple times throughout the day as a result of the situation between Marinette and Adrien, Alya decides to no longer delay answering Nora’s calls and answers. Alya discovers that Nora got into an argument with her friend Cookie, and in an act of spite, had posted a photo of him with an embarrassing cutesy filter, rather than talk things through with him about their dilemma.

As the kwamis look on, Tikki decides to choose Alya as her new holder. Plagg at first thinks about choosing Nino but decides not to given he is in a romantic relationship with Alya and would only lead to consequences just like with Ladybug and Cat Noir. Within the group, Zoe feels displeased about the group coming up with new ideas to bring Marinette and Adrien together and suggests that they all consider asking Marinette and Adrien’s opinion before deciding for themselves what’s best for them. Plagg, impressed by Zoe’s willingness to stray from the crowd and follow her own intuition, decides to select Zoe as his new holder..

As Zoe stands in front of Marinette's building alone, Plagg takes the opportunity to throw the cat miraculous at her to catch her attention. Meanwhile, Tikki confronts Alya and explains her situation, Alya agrees to take on the responsibility to carry the Ladybug miraculous in hopes it would ensure Marinette will have the chance to finally be happy with Adrien. 

As Adrien and Marinette reconcile, they hear a commotion outside and come to find that there is a giant akumatized villain rampaging through Paris, this akumatized villain is named Kiku. Although the two returned the miraculous, seeing the akumatized villain attack makes Marinette and Adrien realize that for the first time, they can no longer protect Paris as Ladybug and Cat Noir, even more so, the two now realize the true extent of their situation as they can only wonder what their partner will do and say the moment they realize they are gone and the miraculous has now been entrusted to a new holder, (more here)

As Marinette and Adrien await their potential new holders to appear, they see on the news that Scarabella and a new holder of the cat miraculous, Kitty Noir, have appeared to save the day. Working together, Scarabella and Kitty Noir successfully de-akumatize Kiku and come to find that he is actually Cookie, Nora’s friend whom she embarrassed by posting a cutesy picture on social media. Through Scarabella’s encouragement, Nora and Cookie reconcile.

Feeling hopeful that Paris will be in good hands, Marinette and Adrien agree to see each other at school tomorrow, making steps to continue to try and live out their now normal lives once again.

That’s it for part 1 of the kwamis choice, “Transimission”, sorry for the delay, I kept getting side tracked making separate posts as Kwamis choice part 1 and 2 had a lot of things to analyze. Part 2 of the kwamis choice analysis, “Deflagration”, will come out soon.

[hardynwa]

Season of kidnapping

There is palpable fear in the land. This is not a time to embark on journeys anyhow. It appears kidnappers have been let loose. From the North to the South, the story is the same. The West and the East are not spared. The fear of kidnappers has become the beginning of wisdom. The menace keeps getting closer by the day. Clergymen are victims. Traditional rulers are under siege. Farmers are not safe. Travellers are at the mercy of criminals. Those at home also cannot sleep with two eyes closed. At the church where I worshipped on Sunday, two worshippers shared details of how they narrowly escaped these armed men during the testimony section of the service. We all listened with fear to how these persons passed through the valley of the shadow of death. We could relate because the road they talked about is a road we ply daily, the notorious Lagos-Ibadan Expressway. The first testifier, as we call them in church circle, betrayed emotion and wept while recounting his ordeal. He searched for a handkerchief in his pocket. When he could not find it, he resorted to using his palm to clean his teary eyes. According to him, he was in a commercial bus heading to Lagos from Ibadan, Oyo State capital. The journey was smooth up until they got to the Ogere end of the Lagos-Ibadan Expressway where they ran into the confusion created by gun-wielding hoodlums who had taken over the ever-busy highway in broad daylight. Yes, broad daylight because he left Ibadan around 3 pm. The journey from Ibadan to that spot cannot be up to two hours, all things being equal. According to him, he saw death personified. While occupants of the 18-seater bus he was travelling in were running out of the vehicle through the door and the windows amidst indiscriminate shooting by the armed men, he found it difficult to do the same on time probably due to his location inside the bus. The man ended up being the last person that came down from the bus. He could not explain how and why bullets did not hit him despite that the gunmen were shooting at close range. He also did not say how he was able to run far into the bush and fast enough to escape abduction. His case must be similar to that of Alara of Ara in the Ikole Local Government Area of Ekiti State, Oba Adebayo Fatoba, who narrated how he managed to escape from gunmen who attacked two of his colleagues last Monday. After giving details of how he “miraculously” escaped from the scene, the monarch was quick to add, “People who said that I disappeared, I want them to know that it is a lie. I ran to the security guards….” That clarification was indeed necessary. In the case of the man giving testimony in the church, by the time the confusion ended, according to him, no fewer than 50 persons were abducted by the gunmen, including at least five persons from the bus he was travelling with. Being an eyewitness, he faulted media reports of the attack which he said put the number of those kidnapped at five. The truth is that many cases of kidnapping across the country are either not reported or are underreported. This is not the fault of journalists, however. They are restricted to the information available to them. There are family members who will prefer to handle their issues as discreetly as possible in order not to put the lives of their loved ones in the kidnappers’ den in danger. Those will quietly raise and pay the ransom requested without involving security agencies that they cannot trust. You cannot blame them. I have had my share of the psychological torture people in distress can be subjected to by security agents they run to help. Some years back, my car was stolen in front of a bank in Abuja. I wanted to use the bank’s Automated Teller Machine. I was not away for long because the machine was out of service. By the time I returned to the spot where I parked the car less than five minutes later, I was searching for the car as if it was a needle that was missing. In that confused state, I was advised to rush to the Central Police Station located inside the Federal Secretariat. You can only imagine what was going through my mind when the policewoman who attended to me told me to buy airtime for the telephone that she would use to communicate to a department that would send a signal out to checkpoints with details of my car. When she saw the surprise and frustration on my face, she amended her presentation and gave me the option of using my telephone to send the details and she will subsequently use the same phone to talk to her colleagues on the other side. I settled for that option reluctantly. With that done, she came up with the idea of using a tracker when she saw in my statement that my iPad mini was inside the car. The idea sounded good at face value until I was directed to the unit in charge of tracking and I was told the bill. That car was not recovered till today. Many years later, I later discovered that the tracking is being done by private firms. The police pay for it too. I realised that last year when I was robbed on the Lagos-Ibadan Expressway, (yes, that road again) and my phone was stolen. I again reported at a nearby police station. I was there when the policemen were discussing with those who would do the tracking and they insisted on N50,000. For a long time, those tracking the phone kept saying it was inactive. Again, that chapter has closed. I went this route to show how extremely difficult it is to burst criminal activities in the country, hence, the decision of many to lick their wounds quietly when they are confronted with such a situation rather than relying on help that may not come. The question, however, is for how long will Nigerians continue to live at the mercy of these marauding criminals who are daily looking for prey? Nigerians are already fighting too many battles in the form of high costs of food, drugs and other essential items. Adding the fear of kidnappers, which appears to have become the beginning of wisdom, to the growing list will be too much for them to bear. Governments at all levels must therefore rise to their primary responsibility of protecting lives and property. That is the least expected of them. Read the full article

[hellmouth-manor]

Unearned Luck | Chapter 3 Event 2/5

When the group enters the dimly lit main hall, the first thing everyone sees is the faint light that escapes from, as advertised, a creepy tunnel. Louisa’s portrait has been discarded off to the side, and on the wall where it once hung is an opening. To those who saw her put the portrait up, and those who had passed by this hall time and time again, you don’t recall any sort of opening under her painting. This can’t be ignored, however, as your fellow sinner must be on the other side, waiting for everyone to join them. 

One by one, everyone piles into the tunnel. The smell of dust and stagnant air fills your nostrils, your eyes adjusting to the faint bit of light from the occasional small lantern that shows the way. The further the tunnel goes, the narrower the walls become, as if something is squeezing down on you, attempting to keep you out. The passage narrows until only one person can fit, shoulder to shoulder, and you all continue down single file. 

Just as you begin to wonder if this tunnel will ever really end, an archway comes into view ahead. A bright light welcomes everyone to push forward into what waits beyond. 

Through the archway, you all step into what appears to be a study, albeit with some strange decorations. The most notable feature is the beautiful marble statue that stands near the center of the room. Portraits and photos hang on the walls, which sweep upwards into a domed ceiling and dangling, crystalline chandelier. Glass cabinets sit around the room, but there’s no time to explore this place in depth. 

Aside from the overwhelming feeling that you shouldn’t be here, the most urgent thing regarding this room are two of your companions—Cedric and Heather—standing side by side. 

You knew Cedric would be here, of course. He was the one that had sent the messages. And as you all file in, he’s bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, either with barely contained impatience, anxiety, or both. He can barely wait for everyone to get through the archway before the words start spilling out.

“Look! Look at this place! It wasn’t even here before! I know it wasn’t because I’ve walked by that portrait a billion times, and I’ve never noticed that it had weird lights behind its eyes. It’s never had a tunnel behind it. It was just a wall, right? You guys remember it being just a wall, too?”

There’s no time for anyone to answer as the chattering continues.

“So I’m not sure where it came from, or why it’s here right now, but these cases—”

He runs over to one of many display cases lining the walls and points inside. You can see a collection of various objects displayed on the shelves. There’s a bowling ball, a book, a… high-heeled shoe? It seems like an odd array of items. 

“—they’ve got, like, these fucked up mementos in there. And they’re all murder weapons. But not our murder weapons, they’re from—I don’t know what they’re from—not exactly.”

Finally, Cedric takes a moment to breathe, but only long enough for a shallow, sharp inhale before he starts right back into it. 

“They’ve all got these notes, right? I’ve got pictures of them. And the notes—they kept mentioning things. Like, this person has to get away with murder three times. Or that person got caught so they were executed. Or this other person grew something in the garden at this house.”

As he looks back at all of you, it’s impossible to miss the desperate glint in his green eyes. He needs to get all of this out. He needs to make sure you all believe him. He needs to say all of this and say it now. While you can’t quite understand the urgency, the uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach grows stronger.

“It all makes sense, doesn’t it? The stupid gifts. The weird letters. If we’re on some sort of fucked up demon reality show, then all of these souvenirs—these are from past seasons.” 

Cedric’s pacing comes to a stop in the middle of the room, eyes fixed on the statue at its center. You look towards it, and can see now that it depicts a young woman with a familiar bob hairstyle and cat-eyed glasses in the midst of a dance with a skeleton.

“Other people have played this game before us. We’re not the first, and we’re probably not gonna be the last.”

While Cedric addresses you all, Heather remains silent by his side. Her typically lax and apathetic aura has been replaced by something more akin to a fully compressed spring. She frowns and glances around the room, never looking at you all during her survey of the environment.

“Not the first, not the last, cool, great, everyone got to see the neat souvenirs the freak kept from the past murder death games. We should get out of here now, seriously, Cedric--”

She doesn’t have time to finish her movements that might have been a herding sort of gesture to convince him physically to leave. 

Time’s up.

[angeli-marco-writes]

Sherlock Holmes - Kiss Me, Mr Detective

A/N - Season 1!Sherlock, the cutie. And friends to lovers. Two of my favourite things. I do not own Sherlock Holmes, the character, the universe, the adaptations or anything: this is a work of fiction set on the BBC adaptation of Sherlock. Did I still write 8.2k words (exactly) for it? Yes. I also don’t own the song or the lyrics used within, and if you fancy it, listen to ‘Kiss Me’ by Ed Sheeran while reading.

Warnings - Bad language. Mentions of murder and drug usage. Mild angst. Smut, loss of virginity, masturbation, oral m receiving, penetration, unprotected sex, so 18+.

Summary - After a fight with John leaves Sherlock feeling particularly down, he calls on the one person who is always there to support him. Only tonight, it’s different. Feelings come to a head, exploration ensues, but is this just a one time thing? That depends on whether she stays the night...

TO SHERLOCK, it’s just another normal day, whereas to John? He’d rather not admit how regularly these awful days roll around. Sure, the case didn’t go as well as it could’ve, and Sherlock admittedly could’ve made much more of an effort to comfort John after the apparent ‘heartbreak’ he endured. He just could not understand it. Why the hell was John so emotionally responsive to a case they’d been on for less than twenty four hours which turned out to be a bust anyway? 

“You are absolutely unbelievable!” 

“People die every day, John. You’ve killed people, as have I. It isn’t that great a surprise.” Sherlock deadpans, picking up his teacup, raising it to his lips, drawing a long sip from the warm liquid. 

“Oh, yeah, of course. The proud, the cold untroubled heart of stone, that never mused on sorrow but its own.” John mocks. “Do you not even care that people are still dead despite the fact you solved the case?”

“They’d be dead either way,” he reiterates, “at least we got to them before they completely decomposed. Will me caring about them stop them from being dead? No, Dr Watson, it will not.”

“Sherlock!”

“John!” He mimics. 

John slams his hands down on the desk, shaking the wood and everything resting on it, surely sending the vibrations through the floor and notifying Mrs Hudson of their ‘domestic’ as she so likes to call them. The buffalo even begins to swing. John’s tea is long forgotten, but Sherlock’s is keeping him grounded, calm, as John waggles his fist in Sherlock’s passive, blank face. 

“You-” he pauses, gulping down breath. “You are a fucking machine, I can’t even deal with you right now. How dare you be so cold hearted and untroubled by this. You’re a disgrace.”

As if he hasn’t heard that one before, Sherlock scoffs. 

Placing his teacup back down with a clink, he stands, the darkness of the night, of the room, closing in on them both. Nights like these really are danger nights, any night John leaves him. That’s what's coming next, but there isn’t a thing he knows to say or do to prevent the inevitable. He’ll simply just text Her instead, she’ll keep him grounded. 

“Why? Emotional context? Emotion, whether of ridicule, anger, or sorrow, whether raised at a puppet show, a funeral, or a battle, is your grandest of levellers. The man who would be always superior should be always apathetic.” 

With a huff like a bull, John viciously turns on his heel, blaspheming under his breath, cursing Sherlock out. He reaches for his coat and snatches it off the stand, slamming the door open. 

“MACHINE.” John screams before pulling the door shut with a great slam, seething, the coat stand still rocking in his wake. 

John’s footsteps thunder down the stairs, but before he’s even gone, Sherlock’s phone is withdrawn, and he’s tapping out a message.

Can you come over? Please? SH

It wouldn’t usually bother him as much. The case didn’t phase him, at all, but John’s opinion did. It always does. But today was a particularly long day of being brutish and rude, cold and distant, his usual and true self, but John’s more and more impatient with him now. 

Being called a ‘machine’ is, again, nothing unusual, but this time it stings a little more than usual, especially after his recent arrest, and a fallout with Molly. He only has one person left, right now, who doesn’t hate him. His longest friend, the one he keeps away from it all so as to not tarnish her life with his misdeeds; Y/N, the one he can always rely on.

He knows she’s arrived by the sound of his window crashing open. Crawling up the bricks, skimming the drainpipe, latching onto the ivy; it’s her usual manner of entry. She never uses the door. 

Putting his cups and saucers into the sink, he makes his way through the house, opening his bedroom door to find her already sitting there on the bed, her coat hung up on the hook, her work clothes clinging to her body. 

“Hey there Mr Detective, you okay?” she asks as jovially as she can muster.

The way he ambles across the room, his dressing gown floating behind him, and slumps down onto the bed, instantly tells her he’s not okay at all. She can’t help but to look upon him sympathetically, edging a smidge closer to him, until he’s prompted enough to wrap his arms around her torso, finding his rightful place tangled around her. She knows him well enough - his past, and his current life - to realise she’s the only person he’s ever felt comfortable enough around to do this with, and that brings her a certain swelling pride in her bosom, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by Sherlock as he feels her skin heat up against his cheek. 

It doesn’t take long, either, for his head to follow suit, burying into her chest. He’s always, always had a thing for her boobs, ever since they were in uni together. 

That’s something so special about the two of them, he doesn’t have to say anything for her to know he’s not okay the way he does with everyone else. And naturally, he can read everything about her in a split second.

“I’m here, bud.”

Above all else, he just needs to know someone is there for him in moments like these. The world is cruel to him, and Y/N wishes more than anything that it wasn’t. Upon instinct, her hands stray, one to his back, pressing against the silk of his dressing gown, the other cradling his long neck, fingers knotting in the dark curls there. 

She isn’t sure how long she stays there, simply holding him, feeling every twitch of his muscles, every breath of his against her skin, but she likes it. Of course she does, every time she likes it. Sherlock brings her an inordinate amount of comfort at the best of times, today is no exception, especially with what the day has held. Even when she’s the one comforting him, he doesn’t realise how much he helps her too. 

His flat is so familiar, his bed as comfortable as her own. She knows his sock index, she’s studied his periodic table over his shoulder more times than she’d care to admit, and she even has her own toothbrush in the bathroom in case she has to pop over for an emergency freshen up. Sherlock has, and always will be, her first port of call, and that she remembers as she shifts further onto the quilted bedspread, her phone on his oak bedside locker. 

His head begins to stir against her chest, his curls tickling her collarbones, small hums escaping his lips as he pushes himself up, his elegant yet trembling hands still splayed on her waist.

“I could feel your heart beating weirdly, what’s wrong?” he asks, quirking his eyebrows. 

“Just the usual.” she vaguely replies.

Sherlock isn’t having it, though, and scans her a little more. “You’re still in your work clothes.”

“Great deduction. I was hoping you’d go a little deeper, though.”

“You hate wearing work clothes longer than necessary, which means you had plans straight after work, considering you finished… five hours ago? That’s your usual time for today. Counting overtime, forty five minutes, walk to your car, another ten, but your umbrella wasn’t working, round that up to an hour, leaving at 6. You arrived home, no, not home, at your boyfriend’s house for dinner. However, you’re not comfortable enough with one another yet for you to use his shower, or perhaps you are, but you elected not to, and stay in damp clothes that only had seventeen minutes to dry with the heater on in your car for the journey there. You ate dinner, Mexican, had a glass and a half of five percent wine, realised you couldn’t drive, but you didn’t particularly want to stay. Nonetheless you sat and watched the telly with him for hours, football, I can see the dreariness in your eyes. I know how much you hate it, and frankly, same. You stayed for almost all of the match, seeing as you’re now sober, but something else happened.” She lulls her head to the side, prompting him, her smile not meeting her eyes. “As soon as the match ended, he tried to make a move on you, he pressed his mouth to yours, he tried to push his hand up your skirt;” his throat bobs with a vicious gulp; despising the thought of anyone else laying a finger on her, “you swatted him away, rightfully so.” 

He pauses a minute, his harsh tone of voice and his sharp face softening. He can see the vulnerability in her eyes, her walls about to crumble. This woman he appreciates so much. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

Smiling melancholically up at him, she brings her hand back to his hair, her fingers carding through the soft curls. His face buries back into her chest just as her voice offers a broken whisper, “I broke it off. I was the one who couldn’t commit this time.” 

And as she lays her head on top of his, her breathing more shallow, resounding in her chest, he dwells over those very words. The way she said them, not to mention the words themselves, hold a myriad of meaning. What could she possibly-

Oh.

The subtext, yes, impeccable. She’s always had a way with implications and subtext, always knowing that the likelihood of him actually picking up on it is little to none. But now, now he’s become trained to her, her way of life, her way of thinking, her way of speaking. This is too good an opportunity to miss. If she means what he thinks she means, ever hopeful, then this is completely unfamiliar territory. 

Gathering all of his courage in one deep breath, he begins to pepper kisses on her skin. The faintest brush of his lips on the tops of her breasts, all that’s available to him with her shirt the way it is. He feels her heart flutter, her breathing stutter, but despite the chemical flush of her chest, he still isn’t quite sure she likes it. Not until he feels her grip on his hair increase, and he glances up to see her head thrown back. Her spine delicately arches against his hand, thrusting her chest further into his face. 

His nimble fingers reach for her buttons, undoing the top two, giving him space enough to find the valley between her breasts. Lathering kisses there, licking the swells of her boobs, his tongue pulsates with the increased thrumming of her heart. The sensation is new, so unbridled, and he doesn’t quite know what to do with the stirring in his loins right about now. That unknowing is only further amplified by the sound that rips from her chest when he involuntarily bites down on the supple flesh. It couldn’t be… a moan?

Sure, he understands the chemistry of it, the reactions that occur in the synapses of the brain, the pheromones and hormones released when one is aroused, but this is all new to him. And, from his embarrassingly basic level of theory, surely that doesn’t start until some more stimulation on other parts of the body commence? Nipples, perhaps something lower down… then again, what does Sherlock know?

Of course it’s an intimate moment, the closest he’s been to a woman before, and maybe that’s why he freezes, stops, and she tugs his head up by his hair, her gentle, pleasured smile with her lips softly parted deepening the look of bewilderment painted onto his face. Her eyes are twinkling, alight with an excitement he hasn’t seen for far too long. 

“What are you doing?” she whispers. 

He shrugs his shoulders with a sudden force, his dressing gown falling off a little. “I don’t know. But now I feel like I read your pining words all wrong.” 

She gasps, a wheezing sound, sucking the air from the room. She smacks his arm gently, muffled by his button-down and dressing gown. “I wasn’t pining! I was saying.”

“Hmm, same difference.” 

Everyone must acquiesce when it comes to Sherlock Holmes. “But no, you didn’t read them wrong at all, but I know you don’t see me that way, you don’t feel things that way.” 

He pauses, his beautiful plump lips pursed, fidgeting on the bed. Brushing her hair off her face reveals the pain she expressed. However, her eyes glued on his, sadness is betrayed in every line of his young, clean-shaven face. His entire bone structure is taking a nosedive. 

“For you, I’ve been feeling everything from hate to love to lust, and I guess that’s how I know I want to hold you close.”

“Sherlock...” she whispers, her singular word an inflection of surprise. 

Never tearing his eyes from her, his hand comes up to her cheek, rubbing his thumb over the slightly blushing skin, searching her face, with his big blue eyes, for a shred of reluctance. But, all he sees is her, so he elects to do what his heart is yelling at him to do for once, and kisses her breathless. His full lips holding hers, his one hand on her face, the other still wrapped around her back. Hers fly around his neck, clinging to him for dear life.

It doesn’t take long, their movements steadily heating, for their previously slow, intimate kiss to grow into something more, Y/N pulling herself up from the bed and making herself comfortable on Sherlock’s lap. His breath hitches in his throat, a cute little hiccupping sound escaping his lips in between embraces. 

As much as he loves just this, soft caressing and gentle petting, he just knows she wants more. He does too, that much is evident from the length prodding at Y/N’s inner thigh as she moves gently on his lap. She won’t make a move, though, he’s too inexperienced, and she’s too much of a sweetheart to corrupt him, so she thinks. Ever since he first saw her, she’s been corrupting him slowly. He didn’t realise at first, but over the years, he began to understand, and now he’s in too deep. 

For Y/N? It’s always been him. Every breakup she’s had, she’ll come to Sherlock’s flat, full well knowing the real reason she broke up with them, because she couldn’t commit, because she was too caught up on him. 

Skimming his hands beneath her shirt, he savours the press of his hands on her bare skin, warmth seeping from her body into his, his fingers dancing along her spine. Electricity shocks her in bursts, unlike anything else, from his touch alone. 

“May I take your shirt off?” he asks. 

“Fuck, yes.” she groans. “May I do yours?”

“Be my guest.”

In a tangle of limbs, a few buttons pop off, and eventually, two shirts make it out the other side, tossed from the bed and into the laundry pile. Aka Sherlock’s floor. He’s like that: sock indexes, yet he won’t get a hamper. A walking contrast.

His thumbs press beneath the band of her bra, savouring the pressure of the flesh that falls into his hands, but that’s as far as he gets. 

“Never undone a bra before?”

He shakes his head sheepishly. “I know the theory. Just… you always wear peculiar ones.”

“I wear relatively normal bras, and this one is certainly bog standard. Had I known you’d be undressing me Mr Detective, I’d have worn something nicer.”

“Just do it for me.” He requests, chuckling. 

She unfastens her bra, and allows her breasts to spill from the cups, into Sherlock’s awaiting hands. The gasp that erupts from him sends Y/N’s brain into overdrive. He’s cupped her chest through her shirt before, buried his nose into her cleavage countless times, but never before have they had such skin on skin contact. Her lips press to his neck, shifting her closer to him. Sucking on his pressure point, she receives a similar gasp in response, only this one is more guttural, more a sound of pleasure than surprise. He’s wilting from a single kiss to his neck. 

“Has no one ever given you a hickey?” She husks in his ear, her voice alone sending tremors down his spine. 

“N- fuck, no.”

“I’ll make it worth it. All of this.”

“I know you will.”

She fuses her lips onto his again, savouring the faint hesitations as he grapples with his breath, eager to get some control on his mind with all that’s happening. Never did she ever think Sherlock would be here beneath her, his rough fingertips brushing over her peaked buds, and his palms dancing over her waist. Never did she think she’d hear him whisper his next words, either, not in a million years. 

“More.” he pleads. “Can we do… more? Whatever that entails?”

“That depends what you want to do.”

“Get me out of these damn trousers. They're rather uncomfortable.”

She snorts lightly, a piggy like sound, the one they bonded over all those years ago. “I can feel why.”

“I imagine you want out of your work trousers, too.”

“God, yes; they’re ghastly.”

“I don’t think so.” he hums. “You look nice.”

Her cheeks begin to burn, blood rushing to colour them, betraying her true feelings, but as he tweaks her nose playfully, the little snort escapes again. 

They were in the dining hall, second week of university, almost ten years ago, and Y/N was sitting with her friends, downing enough coffee to sink a ship, eating her hangover away, when her friends decided to make her laugh with tales of last night's drunken events. Unbeknownst to her, one of the greatest minds of the twenty-first century was sitting just a few seats down on the half-empty bench, watching her perceptively in his periphery. That’s when he first heard the sound. The cutest thing, and it startled him into action, beginning his deductions almost instantly. Admittedly, her student ID on the table aided him a little. 

He shocked her from her haze, too, as soon as he spoke her name. 

“Y/N, eighteen, jurisprudence first year, freshers week over with. You left a boyfriend back home, but you’re more sad about leaving your dog, as I would be. You don’t particularly care about law but know it’s a good undergraduate to receive anyway. Dyed hair, extrovert, killer hangover, and apparently there’s a little piggy living inside your nose. Sherlock Holmes, would you like some aspirin?”

“That’s weird; what are you, some kind of detective?” She asked, sans malice, a playful bounce to her words. 

“Chemistry, going for a masters. But I do like the mystery, yes.”

“So you’re… bright. Nice to meet you, Sherlock, and it seems you know almost everything you need to know about me. But yes, I will take that aspirin, if you don’t mind. How was your weekend?”

He smiled at her, the first true smile he’d given in a long time. “It was nice, thank you.”

And thus a friendship was born, all because he heard her little piggy snort. 

Her slender fingers work wonders with the fastener and zip of his suit trousers, and even manage hers too, all within the space of a few seconds, but Sherlock is reluctant to let her go, even just to get her trousers off. 

“I need to sit up, just for a minute.”

“No.” Sherlock commands, insistent. “We can make this work.”

“Sure we can, but it won’t be very comfortable. Come on.”

She’s barely peeled away from him and wrestled hers off before he’s drawing her back in for a kiss, his trousers settled just above his knees. 

“Sherlock,” she protests, mumbling against his lips, her hands on his heavenly, broad, muscular shoulders. “Sher!”

Her squeal at his sudden tug on her panties disappears, captured by his eager mouth. And in fact, her panties seem to disappear along with it, thanks to Sherlock’s swift movements and nimble hands. Maybe he’s had some experience to be so good at this…

“You sure you wanna go this far?”

“More sure than I’ve ever been. I need you.” 

He takes a deep inhale, dropping his forehead against hers, his breathing coming out in bursts as he tries to get a grasp on the situation. “Kiss me.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice, instantly getting to work on the waistband of his boxers as his tongue lavishes her own. His hips rise briefly, just long enough for her to tug the elasticated material from around him, slipping past her, and then he kicks it into their growing pile of clothes. His length falls into her awaiting palm, and-

“Wow.” She exhales in amazement. “If I’d known you were packing this much, I’d have jumped you long ago.”

“No you wouldn’t.”

“Absolutely not, until tonight I thought you’d just laugh at me.”

He pecks her lips affectionately, “Never. You’re bloody beautiful, I’ll let you do anything to me.”

“Hmm, anything, you say?”

Stifling a chuckle against her neck, he recommences, “Maybe not anything.”

Yeah, that's definitely the right call. Still, she finds herself all but clawing at him, her breath hovering teasingly just over his lips, their noses touching, her hands clamped to his cheeks, feeling the building heat there. She must be making such a mess of his bed right about now, but for one night? It can’t matter.

This is a one time thing, it has to be. Sherlock just needs to release some tension, she just so happens to be there. Still, she can’t prevent the little glimmer of hope shining through at the possibility of this being a more-than-one-time thing. The moral compunctions of their friendship after this don’t matter anymore, because he’s leaving a fire in his wake, his delicious fingertips digging bruisingly into her bum before trailing lightly up her spine, skimming her shoulder, brushing her neck - arched for him to reach where he wants, able to mark her as his own - and finally slipping over her lips, taken obediently by her awaiting mouth. Christ, if there’s one thing she hopes for tonight, it’s that his actions never relent.

Whether it’s what he intends to happen or not, his fingers in her mouth give her an idea, one she prays he goes along with at least a little, so she pulls away. The dirty, telling smile on her face hints at what she’s about to do, lending Sherlock to shift a little more up the bed, his eyes following her every move. Hands splayed on his thighs, her small fingers gripping onto the fine hairs there, she begins to take his tip into her mouth, never once breaking eye contact with him. Yeah, this is what’ll drive him insane. 

Inch by inch, she takes him into the welcoming heat of her mouth, pulling off slowly, only to go down again. She adds her tongue into the mix at some point, too, and her hand, on what she can’t reach, tickling his balls, but further than that, his mind is blank. Hot white, washed with pleasure. The sounds he emits are other worldly, so much that he has to muffle himself with his own hand; what would Mrs Hudson say? He’s always had such control over his mind and body, but this… he’s slowly losing all semblance of control, and he’s not even mad about it. What he does know is that there’s a building heat in his abdomen, a coil about to spring, and his cock is beginning to twitch. If she keeps going this incredible way, her teeth grazing him ever so gently, adding another new sensation into the mix, he’s inexorably going to finish before he can help it.

“As much as I adore your torturous ministrations, I think I need to be inside you…” He husks, his voice deep.

A smirk gracing her lips, she looks up at him through half-lidded eyes, mischief glinting in her pretty little mesmerising eyes for a second, before she hollows her cheeks and takes him wholly, allowing his length to slip partially down her throat. Her moan reverberates around him, and Sherlock begins to thrash above her, scrunching the duvet in his hands, not caring if it creases. If there’s one thing Sherlock hates, it’s creases. And being called a machine by his best friend. Right now, though, it seems as though every misstep in his day has led him here, into the welcoming heat of Y/N’s mouth, taking him so eagerly, her tongue lapping at the vein on the underside of his dick, a string of saliva remaining as she pulls away. 

“I think you’ve got a couple of rounds in you, Mr Detective. Can you do that for me?”

“Y-yes.” He stammers, his head tossed back in pure ecstasy a moment later as she begins to work on the head with kitten licks. “But… can I s- fuck me, say something?”

“I plan on it.” she chuckles, “anything.”

She goes back to peppering kisses all over his member, tip to base, brushing his balls, working her way back up. 

“Touch yourself f- for me.”

“What? Why?” 

Her tone is more inquisitive than anything else, but upon that playfully rueful look in his lust-darkened baby blue eyes, she knows he’s going to get her back for this little display, and he’s just worked out how. It works both ways, she can prepare herself for what’s to come next while pleasuring him. And he gets to watch. It’s a win-win for him. Maybe he likes this sex thing a little more than he’s letting on. 

“Are you sure you want me to? I’ll just make a mess on your sheets, Sher.”

She swallows him again, bobbing her head up and down on his length a few times while he grapples with literal reality. He’s teetering on the edge. One more move, and he’s a goner. His head is already against the wall, lolled there. 

“I don’t care about the sheets, darling, I need you ready for me.”

She gulps, nods, and reaches one hand around her, skimming over her stomach, until it nestles between her thighs. She rubs her thumb over his tip, collecting the pre-come beading there, while she rubs over her throbbing pearl, pressing softly. Then, as she inches down on his cock, taking him in her mouth, she also collects the slick from between her thighs, and uses it as a lube to push a finger inside herself. Of all the times she’s touched herself, she never imagined, even in her wild Sherlock fantasies, that she’d be doing it with his dick down her throat. With every bob of her head, she scissors herself more, sinking back onto her fingers. 

“I think I’m-” Sherlock begins to say, his words cut off by an utterly obscene moan splitting the air. 

She hastily abandons her one post, and wraps both of her hands around his girth, working on what she can’t fit into her mouth with her increased speed, licking and suckling his head as he begins to fall apart, coming, with a scream, down her throat, his one hand clamped over his mouth, biting down harshly to silence his cries; the other buried in her hair. 

His whole body falls lax, completely spent, meanwhile, Y/N savours every drop she’s been able to draw from him. He softens in her mouth, allowing her change to slip away from him, grasping a tissue from the bedside to wipe away any excess. That’s certainly something she never thought would happen… 

He’s calm, though, smiling lazily through hooded eyes, his breathing regulated once more, making beckoning motions to her with his big hands. He’s placated, though, and sliding her hands into his, she’s allowed time enough to get into place, smiling softly at him, raking her fingers over his scalp in a comforting way. Even as she sits herself on his lap, she can feel him hardening beneath her ass, slowly but surely. She was right about him, he’s definitely got another round in him. 

“Do you have a condom?” he asks. 

“No, sweetheart, they’re in my other bag. I didn’t plan on getting any for a while… do you?”

“Not in here, that I’m aware of. John may have stashed some in my less favoured dressing gowns or socks, and he definitely has some upstairs, but I’m unawares.”

“I’m gonna sound crazy here, but do we need one?” She says hesitantly. His eyes widen, he cocks his head to the side. “I was tested after my last partner, I’m clean, and on birth control. You’re a virgin. There’s no point, is there?”

“You have a considerably good point.”

With that, energy rejuvenated a little, he wraps an arm around her body, flipping them over so he’s on top, shadowing her, looming over her, gazing down at every inch of her naked beauty.

“Take your time. I’ll be your safety.”

“I know.” he whispers, a tearful smile making its way onto her face. “Thank you.”

He needn’t say more, because she already knows why she’s being thanked. For her kindness, for making him so comfortable, for accepting the fact he’s still a virgin in his late twenties and, if he’s being honest, has no damn clue what the practicality and reality of sex is. Sure, he’s seen porn. He’s also looked at John’s laptop. But that doesn’t prepare one for when the moment comes. It’s like all of that goes out the window, and he simply remembers the first time he opened a biology textbook at secondary school, pictures of flushed organs staring back at him, desperately waiting to be relieved. That’s what his own coock is like right now, already hard again, virtually pulsating with hunger in his palm. He strokes himself a couple of times, glancing down at Y/N’s wide eyes.

“Are you okay? Can I…”

“Yes, Sherlock,” she chuckles, “whenever you’re ready.”

Now, he thinks. He rubs two digits through her folds, gathering her wetness, enamoured with the way it glistens on his fingertips. Tentatively, he brings his fingers up to his mouth, swirling his tongue around them to get a taste. Eyes rolling into the back of his head, he moans. She’s better than any cup of tea he’s ever had. 

His cock slaps against his lower stomach pleadingly, so he grasps it in his hand, and begins to enter her, pushing gently, feeling every flutter of her walls. Her arms fly out, hands grasping his shoulders, nails leaving crescent moons in their wake at the delicious stretch. It’s nothing like they’ve ever felt before. 

“Can I move?” He asks, balls deep inside her, their pelvises flush against one another. 

“Please.” She all but begs. 

Before doing anything else, Sherlock hooks one strong arm around her body, malleable in his hands, and holds her chest against his. Her breasts push into his skin, her nipples gaining friction from the dusting of hair there. Her one hand cups his slender neck, the other, his sharp cheek. Their eyes meet in a fierce gaze of burning intensity, and he begins to move. Slow, calculated, sharp thrusts punctuate her core. With every heavenly stroke, he can feel the ridges in her velvet walls, squeezing around him unwittingly.

“Jesus,” she cries, her clutch increasing. 

“Hmm, not quite.”

The smirk in his words is quite literally audible. He’s so cocky, so full of himself, and fuck if she can’t feel another gush of arousal coursing through her, drenching his cock. How does he manage to be so attractive when he’s so dishevelled?

“Is that good?” He asks, unsure.

“So good.”

She brings her legs up, skimming the clenched backs of his thighs, until they wrap around him, drawing his hips into her at a new and improved angle. Heels digging into the base of his spine, he begins to move with a new purpose, his thrusts more passionate as his breath is drained from him by her kisses, his eyes alight with a new flame. 

“Oh my God, Sherlock.” She pants, pulling him in for a kiss he greedily returns. 

He drives his hips deeper, squeezing his fingertips into her supple waist bruisingly. It’ll be a mark that she belonged to him once, even just for one night. That’s when he reaches that special spongy spot that makes her entire body buckle. She all but screams, pressing into him wholly. 

The coil is building, ready to break. He seems to be nearing the edge, too, his member twitching inside her when he buries himself particularly deep. She’s oh so fucking close… She licks into his mouth filthily, desperately clashing her teeth with his, eager for his kisses to tide her over. Silence her. Shifting his supporting hand, he trails one dextrous finger around to circle her clit, adding the faintest pressure for a moment. She mewls as he groans into her hot skin, clawing at him, entirely at his whim. Now he knows where to press, he settled his grip back around her, and draws her in close. This time around, he bends his knees a little more to measure his movements more carefully, ensuring that he ruts up and brushes her sensitive bud with his pelvis, helped by the extra friction of his neatly trimmed pubic hair on every thrust within her, his tip just scraping her g-spot.

“I- Sherlock, please tell me you’re- oh sweet mercy- close.”

He grunts softly in her ear. “So close.”

Their lips meet tenderly, passionately, in what they acknowledge to be a final kiss, moans mixing between them, savoured by the other. 

His thighs clench, her legs tighten around his waist, and finally, her sweet walls flutter, squeezing him as she reaches her climax, his not following long after, spilling inside her, painting her soft walls white, marking her. 

“Y/N,” he cries in ecstasy as his orgasm reaches him. “Sher…” she repeats, her saving grace as pleasure washes over her entirely. 

Their whole bodies wind up pressed together, bound together as one, skin on skin completely, becoming one another. 

He lets her down gently, unravelling his grip, unsurprised when their sweaty skin sticks together. Her long legs unfurl, splaying in a butterfly. Sherlock tumbles ungracefully away, somehow landing with a certain gangly elegance on the space of mattress beside her, his arm instinctively flying over to place on her stomach, the skin hot and flushed red. Her chest moves hastily up and down with the thrumming of her heart, while his barely shifts despite his shallow breaths, his white skin glistening in the moonlight. 

“Are you okay?” He huffs, turning on his side. “You look pretty fucked out.”

His baby blue eyes train instantly on her nipples, hard in the open air. This is the first notifier, the first inkling she has to feel self conscious, so she draws the sheet up around her as best as she can. Sherlock’s not having any of it, taking a stronghold on her arms, and pulling her until she’s lying on him, naught to separate them. 

“I’ve never been this close to anyone physically and y'know.” He hums tiredly. She’s never heard him sound tired before… 

She smiles up at him as best she can, “Are you glad?” 

He begins to hold her ever closer, squeezing her tighter, feeling every ridge of her body. 

“I’m so glad that you were my first, in so many ways.” 

Praise from Sherlock is a rarity, and she’ll take it as and when she can, savouring every moment, this time by holding him like a koala, her grip not wavering. 

“I’m glad too, Mr Detective.”

He brushes a kiss to her cheek, “As much as I like this, we need to get you cleaned up.” 

A supporting arm beneath her bum, he picks her up, and unsteadily ambles into the bathroom. 

“I don’t know much about this, but I know you should probably use the toilet, should you want to avoid a UTI, so if you’d like me to leave…”

He sets her down on the loo seat, cupping his hands over his nether regions, and he hurries to grasp for things, until she puts her hand on his arm, squeezing in a conciliatory manner. 

“You do remember the camping trip, don’t you? You really don’t have to leave just because I have to pee, you never did before. In fact, you frequently annoyed me with it if you had a particular point to make, steadfastly refusing to leave the bathroom after following me in there when I went to pee. Why does this change anything?”

He shrugs, dropping whatever was in his arms, “It just doesn’t feel the same now, though.”

“Ooo, and now Mr Detective feels things.” She jokes, poking at his ribs. 

He recoils, chuckling with her, “Only for you.”

As Y/N washes her hand, Sherlock begins to wrangle with a floorboard, clattering about until he eventually pulls out a small lock box, from which he withdraws a packet of brand new marks-and-spencer's ladies briefs. 

“Why the fuck do you have these? Anything you wanna tell me?” she asks, eyes wide.

“John’s idea. He has plenty of girls over here who frequently stay the night, simply a precautionary error.” He takes a beat, gargling with some mouthwash, “they’re clean, new, I just don’t like the idea of you in dirty underwear, and I know how reluctant you are to go without them whenever you’re not in your own bed. I stayed with you enough nights in university to know that.”

Those nights were awfully painful. She’d take the floor, he’d take the bed, and every time she’d have to wash the sheets. He’d sweat and vomit, shake and cry, plead for the pain to be over. He wouldn’t go to hospital, he wouldn’t call his brother, he’d just turn up on her doorstep, high as a kite, almost in tears, knowing he’d gone a little too far. And each time, it was a little farther. 

“Thank you, Sherlock.” 

She takes them from him, and begins to shimmy them up her legs, only prevented by Sherlock moving to grab a handful of her arse. 

“Hmm, I like this. Fancy another round?” He smirks. 

“I’m too tired, babe. Give me a bit.” 

He can see the lazy smile on her face, the tiredness in her pretty eyes, so he wets a flannel, and begins to clean her up with gentle movements between tender kisses.

“How do you know how to do all of this?” She asks, inquisitive more than anything. 

“Instinct, I suppose. I never read or learned about it, seeing as I never thought it would happen.” 

She snaps the waistband before moving her hands to his waist, leaning up onto her toes to reach him, kissing her softly. 

“Look at you now.”

After brushing their teeth in an amicable silence, their pinky fingers overlapping on the porcelain of the sink, he aids her back to the bedroom, settling her on the bed. She has things here: deodorant, toothbrush, moisturiser, and yet somehow she doesn’t have underwear, even after all these years. Perhaps that's one too many things to explain… 

With superfluous extravagance, he throws her his shirt, offering her a wry wink. She finds a blush clawing its way onto her cheeks, dumbfounded. It smells like him, just like a forest glade if it was rained on by tea and cigarettes. Maybe he’ll let her keep it as a memory.

In such a short amount of time, she’s learnt that he has a very sensitive neck. Very. A single kiss there has him biting back a moan. A low one at that, considering his deep voice also drops almost an octave when he’s aroused. His nipples are almost as sensitive as his neck, and he rather likes it when she tugs on them unwittingly. 

His first orgasm comes quickly, but his refractory period is astonishing, and it takes longer to achieve a second high, long enough to make her come more than once, she assumes, though her first orgasm was mind blowing enough for two. Perhaps that’s just because it’s his first time, but it’s impressive nonetheless.

What’s the point in learning all of this if, once he comes around from his post-orgasmic haze, he’ll pretend like it never happened, in typical Sherlock style?

The shirt, though a small gesture, means a lot, and her vision begins to cloud as she looks down at the black cotton. 

“You mean you want me to stay?” She croaks.

Sherlock turns to her from his set of drawers, his face full of apparent obviousness, brows furrowed in that cute bewildered way. 

“Of course I want you to stay.” He states, like it’s the plainest thing in the world, like it’s stupid for her to even ask. But she’s silent, and when she says nothing in response, he launches into a long winded explanation: don’t show sentiment. “I- I just mean, i-it’s midnight, I’m not having you out in London alone. You stay with me. Only if you want to as well...” 

She nods eagerly, “Yes. Yeah, course I want to stay.”

He all but leaps access the room, jumping onto the bed, before planting a proper smooch on her lips, grinning down at her. He slips into his usual side of the bed, and she takes hers, rolling to look at him.

“Don’t get cold.” He warns, tucking the duvet up around her shoulders. She giggles like a child, that small snort sounding again, prompting Sherlock to press his thumb to her nose like a button. “How are you… feeling?”

“I’m fine bub, really. That bloke doesn’t matter to me at all. Bit of a scumbag if I’m honest. You’re the one I’m with, the one I wanna talk about. How are you feeling? Must’ve been a pretty big blow up with John for you to call me and be so... teary.”

He sighs, crestfallen, “He called me a machine.”

Her gasp pierces the air, her hand flying to his hair, stroking in consolation, cooing senseless reassurances to him. She’s done this innumerable times, but now it feels different, like there’s no barrier. 

“He’s done it so many times that it needn’t bother me anymore, but the way he looked at me, like I was this abhorrent monster, especially after the day and the disappointing case we had, it got to me. I hate having feelings.”

“You don’t have to hide them with me, though.”

He hums gently, burying into her chest. “I know. That’s why I treasure you so dearly.”

“That means you also have to trust me, and you’re not going to like what I have to say.” His chest heaves, shifting her whole body. That’s his way of giving in. “Please just talk to John. You know that whenever he leaves, he’ll come back, and try to pretend it never happened. He needs to know you’re human and that he upset you, but also that the case upset you as well. No one’s superhuman, and once you let John in on the fact that you’re not a machine, things between you will be so much easier, because you might agree for once.”

“I suppose you’re right.” He grumbles. 

He pulls her into his warmth, hooking her leg around his as he snakes his arms around her back, breathing deeply from the crook of her shoulder. She begins to pepper kisses on his salty skin, savouring the taste with every small swipe of her tongue.

“Your heart’s against my chest, your lips pressed to my neck,” he breaks off with a faint whimper when she sucks a little harder, “I’m falling for your eyes, but they don’t know me yet.”

“Of course they do,” she whispers brokenly, hoarsely, “they’ve always known you.” She swallows thickly, “Does that mean it’s a feeling you’ll forget?”

“No, I don’t think I ever can.”

The silent words that pass between them both are so special, too special to be spoken aloud. ‘Think I’m in love now.’

“Kiss me like you wanna be loved.” He begs. 

And really, who is Y/N to deny him? They just stay that way a little while, revelling in their lazy kisses, until she begins to fall asleep. It isn’t the first time she’s fallen asleep in his bed, not by any means, but it’s the first time she’s fallen asleep in his arms. She isn’t mad about it.

“Settle down with me, cover me up, cuddle me in. You were made to keep my body warm.” She smiles into her words, and embeds herself into him, entirely covered by the duvet, spattered in his kisses, safe in his arms. Sherlock feels safe with her legs around him, her fingers in his curls, holding himself against her. Amicable silence is how they drift off, Peaceful.

John re-enters 221B at a respectable hour. He got a fair amount of sleep on Greg’s sofa, having no girlfriend in the picture right now, but not enough to deal with Sherlock just yet. Not before his coffee. He expects to see Sherlock sitting in the exact same spot as when he left, perhaps just with a refill of tea, his fingers still steepled beneath his chin, eyes closed yet wide awake. Instead, he arrives at a seemingly empty, considerably clean flat, with no Sherlock in sight. Perhaps the unsleeping man must actually be asleep, he thinks, so he quietens down, and toes off his shoes before wandering farther into the flat. Even if the man does piss him off extraordinary amounts, perhaps he should just check he’s okay…

He gives the bedroom door a quiet rap, listening in momentarily before pushing it open. Frankly, he’d rather have found Sherlock with a cigarette in hand and the whole flat torn to shreds for the level of surprise he gets upon reaching the bed. His first idea is to scream bloody murder, but that might annoy Mrs Hudson, and upon stepping closer, even in the sliver of daylight through the curtains, he sees the duvet riding down a little. The last thing in the world he ever thought he’d see: Sherlock in naught but boxers pressed against a half naked woman, his palm splayed on her bare thigh. Sherlock? Spooning? It seems so, his entire body pressed to this woman. John feels himself go rigid, his feet glued to the floor, his gaze unmoving from shock. 

It takes his phone to buzz in his pocket to get him moving, and when he does, all he tries to do is balance precariously on his tip toes in a wry attempt to get a birds-eye view of the whole thing. He’s not disappointed, or disturbed, once he does, though, his army agility proving useful. Sherlock’s hand is holding her, fingers entwined, just next to her chest. He wonders how comfortable it is, but if they’re staying this way, it can’t be too bad. Maybe all Sherlock needed to loosen up was a good shag. 

She’s wearing his shirt, too; Sherlock’s black dress shirt from the previous day. And Sherlock? He never seeps in anything less than a full set of pyjamas, he’s weird like that . 

This girl begins to stir, her lips parting gently, small hums escaping. Next, her eyelids flutter, and her hair shifts on the pillow. He didn’t make any noise, did he? John was specifically careful not to, just in case. He doesn’t fancy Sherlock’s wrath just yet. 

One eye opens, and she whispers, almost incoherently, “Hi John.”

How she knows his name and who he is, he’s not at all sure, because he doesn’t think he’s ever seen this face in his life. The hair is familiar, and maybe, if she were more awake, he’d recognise her smile, but he’s never seen a woman in Sherlock’s company beside Molly Hooper. Speaking of… 

Before he can even say anything, though, before he can ask who she is or if she wants tea or if she date-raped his roommate, she’s mumbling, and detaching her hand from Sherlock’s, rolling over. Dumbfounded, John just stands there and watches her cuddle into Sherlock’s chest, her arms wrapping around his torso like second nature. Even in his sleep, not consciously thinking about his actions, he grips her back - one hand resting just above her bum, and buries his nose into her neck.

John can’t help but smile to himself. Maybe their fight was for the best if Sherlock now has a girlfriend, someone he turned to for solace. So, he grasps for the top of the duvet and pulls it up over both of their figures, reaching their shoulders, and leaves, staring wistfully for a brief moment at the seemingly happy couple. 

The weight of the duvet of what startles Sherlock, though, stirring him a little, inviting him to him against Y/N’s skin, smiling with eyes barely open. This is really nice, he thinks to himself, not waking up alone. 

She smiles back blearily, and in her morning voice, whispers to him, “Kiss me Mr Detective.”

[drawingale]

Aeria Gush Post 2

Usual warning: This is going to be a long post with some spoilerly content. My art has evolved a lot over the 5 years I’ve been working on my project, so some of the stuff at the beginning is a bit rough. I’m back with another post where I’m going to gush about Episode 2 of my comic Aeria. Episode 2 is titled “A Transfer Student's Promise”

💙Episode 2 Part 1 One of the popular girls, Chrissy, becomes jealous when Mira is picked to show Cal around the school. Mira can already tell that this is going to be a problem which is why she didn’t want the position in the first place. 

💙Episode 2 Part 1 Mira shows Cal a shortcut to the school’s main office. The trees in the courtyard are in full bloom. Spring is a season of renewal and change, and big changes are coming into Mira’s life.  

💙Episode 2 Part 1 This is the first time I leaked one of the villains. This is Luarsha, the leader of the Aposaarians. I draw her lounging a lot because she’s the type of leader to order others to do her bidding, reflecting how lazy and ineffective she is. Luarsha is from one of eighteen kingdoms on Ailithyia; Ordenz. I base each kingdom off of an irl country and Ordenz is Japan. The gold flower pin Luarsha wears is the sigil of the kingdom. Two other characters are mentioned; Iris and Reseda. We’ll see Iris a further down, but we don’t see Reseda until a couple episodes later.

💙Episode 2 Part 2 Cal’s inner monologue reveals that the Iylven are looking for a specific girl. He realizes that Mira, despite looking human, must be the person they’re after once her markings are revealed in the sunlight. Cal is able to sense the markings on her back (he does not have the ability to look through clothing). All Iylven are born with markings; a tattoo which magic is channeled through. Some markings are hereditary and passed down the bloodline; they may be located on a different part of the body than the parent’s, but usually look the same. In Mira’s case, she possesses a very special set. This is how the Iylven were planning on identifying her, since she went missing when she was around 7-8ish years old. 

💙Episode 2 Part 2 Cal is still confused about why Mira is human. He personally knew her when they were younger, which also makes him question if her memories are intact since she should have remembered his face. 

💙Episode 2 Part 2 Cal decided that someone must have used a curse on Mira- both on her body and mind- in order to alter her completely. Iylven use the word Aorr for magic (pronounced ike aura, but without the A on the end). There are nine elements of aorr: water, fire, earth, air, ice, plant, and three are energies: sun (healing / light), moon (draining / shadow), and absolute (a balance of sun and moon, they can use all energy’s properties). Dark aorr is apart of the powers of absolute, however, there was a ban on the practice of them centuries ago. Any and all found knowledge has been wiped out. So, someone has been doing some digging on cursed texts. The question is: who?

💙Episode 2 Part 2 One of Luarsha’s subordinates, Iris, arrives outside of Sylvia Rose’s. On the other end of the earpiece is Edann, but we’ll meet him in another episode.  Iris is the type to punch first, ask questions later. 

💙Episode 2 Part 3 Cal casually asks about Mira’s necklace to see if her memories have been altered. Mira is a bit put-off about the question; she recalls that the necklace is her birth mother’s, who dropped her off at an orphanage and never came back for her. 

💙Episode 2 Part 4 Mira shows Cal around the school after picking up his schedule from the main office. In math class, Cal shows some knowledge of very advanced calculous formulas, which causes the teacher take an interest in him. The late bell rings and, afraid of being late to their next class, Mira engages in premarital hand-holding with Cal.

💙Episode 2 Part 5 Cal is also shown to be good at science. He’s able to complete the lab for the day- to create slime- before the teacher can get through the instructions.  This episode originally dropped on Valentine’s day, so I thought it be cute if my OCs were in a scenario where clueless alien did something he thought was helpful for the human.

💙Episode 2 Part 6 The History teacher plays a movie for the class. During one of the more violent scenes, Cal experiences a panic attack. Mira asks the teacher if they can leave the classroom and they are given the go-ahead. Ailithyians- of all 9 races- possess no guns. They have their magic, blades, and bows, but no firearms were ever invented. Cal’s panic attack is triggered from an old trauma from childhood which we learn more about further into season. Essentially, seeing people injured in war caused his memory to resurface. 

💙Episode 2 Part 6 One of my favorite panels of the two together. Mira doesn’t judge him for his panic attack. She just sits there with him to show her support.  I could also argue this is the part where Cal first realizes that his relationship with Mira has changed. They were childhood friends in the past, but now that they are older and getting more mature, he begins to feel romantic attraction to her. This also makes him conflicted, because he can’t really tell her about why he likes her without revealing her past first.

💙Episode 2 Part 7 The next class period is lunch. Mira asks Cal if he would rather sit with his friends or continue following her around. Cal thinks about if his two friends- Aaron and Via- would be okay if he skipped out sitting with them. I like this panel too because I got to show a bit of the two’s personality in their chibi forms without introducing them just yet. Aaron is shown to be flirtatious. Also, that he flirts with everyone (he’s bi). Via is the more responsible one. And tsundere. Very tsundere.

That’s all for Episode 2. Mostly, I spent a lot of time setting up characters and their relationships with one another along with some teasers at future conflicts. All of the characters hinted at get proper introductions later. If you want to read more, check out this link: https://globalcomix.com/c/aeria I’m definitely planning on doing more of these lore / analysis / appreciation posts of my comic, but one episode at a time. Thanks for reading, have a lovely day 💙

[cafecourage]

The moment they realized they loved you. (Isekai Au Edition) Part 3

If you want more information on this AU here is the Link!

Hyrule:

- It confusing and full of yearning.

- The Fae Folk are very affectionate in nature. Physical touches and platonic kisses are just normal. Hyrule growing up briefly with them had adopted this habit.

- You are like that as well so you’re the one to take care of Hyrule when he wanted affection. Since other then Legend, it’s awkward to ask the others.

- He finds however while he still asks/gives you affection. He gets more flustered and embarrassed when you initiated contact.

___________________________________

Admittedly Hyrule never had a clear understanding of Hylian social norms. Some things were easy to pick up when he was just traveling by himself. However, there was a lot that conflicted with Fae social norms. While yes, the Fae were more mischievous and could be borderline malicious, they are very affectionate creatures. Which was the one of many things Hyrule picked up when he was being raised by the Great Fairy.

Before you join the chain, he had to hold himself back from being overly affectionate with the group. Yes, when he had chances, he would give a quick side hug or ruffling of the hair for the younger Link’s. But nothing on the level of cuddles or small peaks on the cheek and forehead. You though! You were the one to lay the affection on everyone thick. Most if not every Hero has melted from all the complements and physical affection.

Hyrule was living his best life now with you! Cuddles are a must for the two of you. Especially when one another has been having a rough day. You’ve also gotten the others involved with this newly formed ritual. He just over all feeling comfortable and loved.

Which then leads to Hyrule’s issue. Slowly he began to feel embarrassed with every peak after he heals you. Then his heart begins to race when he is cuddled up resting his head against your chest. Even holding your hands became hard for him to stand! It felt so warm but also made him fearful. He was scared of losing you. Losing this warmth. This comfort. He wanted to keep it but scared that this feeling was to good for him.

“-and that’s what happen so far.” He was visiting the Great Fairy Cotera of Wild’s Era. He had visited her each time they visited Kakariko. Cotera gently hummed messing with his hair. “What should I do?” He looks up to the giantess worriedly. His small sisters surround him ether sitting on top of him or by his side.

Their mother hummed as she thought about his problem. “My dear sweet child.” She started after a long pause “this human… do you feel different compared to your other friends? Or with your siblings in the forest?”

Hyrule thought about it after a while shook his head. “No… I did used to feel embarrassed with the others but it was different. This is more… warm?”

“Warm?” She urges him gently to continue. “Do you hate it?”

“No…” he sounded like a child, fidgeting in his seat “I hate how anxious it makes me now.” You meant a lot to him. Hyrule knew you meant a lot to everyone too, but that normal! You’ve helped them all in some sort of way! Yet he was deep in that unidentifiable emotion towards you. He adores you. All of you. Even during your more impulsive actions he didn’t mind having to heal you. Of course, he would truly rather not heal anyone with his magic. Yet… with you giving his payment in kisses on the cheek or forehead… he can’t stay mad at you.

“Chin up little one.” Cotera lifted up his head “your feelings are valid and has a simple explanation.” Hyrule pouted slightly making her giggle a bit tapping lightly on his nose. “You my dear seem to love your sweet human.”

It was like a lanterned was just lit in a dark cave he was wandering in. Finally revealing a path out. Everything thing slowly explaining itself. “Oh…” was all he could say as he was comprehending it. His sisters were giggling at their brother’s expense causing him to blush. It all made to much sense.

“Roolie! Are you nearby?” He and the Great Fairy both perk up when they heard your voice. He stared up at the Great Fairy expectingly.

“Well?” Cotera nudged him off of the petals of her fountain. “What are you waiting for little one?”

___________________________________

- Well, that was embarrassing and he knows once he starts perusing you. The more his siblings of the forest will start to tease him. Not only that but the chain also catches on pretty quickly.

- He becomes a blushing and stuttering mess around you, not pulling away from your touch but leaning more into him.

- It will be a miracle if he confesses but he will! And he will do it in a more intimate manner though, with or without help.

___________________________________

Four:

- It took long to accept but filled with soft cotton fluff.

- Isn’t canon in the manga that the colors (minus Vio) straight up try to impress a girl they just met?

- Now I’m not saying he is like that now a days, but old habits die hard right. He probably doesn’t even recognize that he still does it.

- Honest to God the resident brain cell is the only one that new point blank what was happening. Having a “not again” moment.

___________________________________

It’s been a while since Four was back in his forage. He missed every second of it. The smithing process was the one hobby each color had in common. As Link they found it relaxing, something to get their mind off of things.

That morning was no different. Traveling on the road was stressful even for a seasoned adventurer. Traveling alone was boring which was the upside according to Red. It relieved them of responsibility Green was used to taking upon himself to carry. Blue was at least a lot calmer with having to be on alert all the time. Vio had pointed out this was mainly because of You.

The chaos came back full force. The same argument has been happening recently, it was about his feelings towards you. Now they all liked you as a friend. Four knew that for a fact. He was only six when he felt your presence and this situation, he was in was as if an imaginary friend became real! At least that’s what Red felt.

No matter if they were unified or separated, Four could trust you to help him out of even the messiest situations. So, what if some of those situations were caused by him trying to impress you? That doesn’t mean anything!

Just because Blue became a stuttering mess when you surprised Four with a flower crown just meant he was taken aback at your kindness! He isn’t good at showing his emotions. Yeah, so what about Green becoming a soft mess when you first showered him in praise and affection. Wouldn’t any person do that from someone that been through hell and back with them? It doesn’t count that Red craves your affection! He is like that with everybody and just because it makes him feel different it doesn’t count. Someone saves Vio from this.

Four was conflicted which is why he was working so early in the morning. They wouldn’t shut up about their own feelings. It was a chaotic mess inside his head as soon as he woke up. A weight on his back clued him back into reality “Good morning!” You while looking down at him smiling still holding on lazily. “How is the most beautiful person here doing?”

Ah. There goes most of composure out the window. Vio was the last one standing with Green and Blue almost hanging on. You loved to tease him and he was never able to get you back. “Don’t know how are you?” Four was really struggling to keep unified and calm. He was shaking because of the other three’s nerves. You stared at him wide eyed.

“Jeez look at you!” You give him a squeeze before finally let go of him “you’ve grown! If only you were that smooth towards Erune.” You teased.

The blush he was so desperately trying to beat down started to flare up this time out embarrassment. “Can we not talk about that?” Four could only cringe when he thought back at that bit in his adventure. Him and Erune have been close friends since then, but the colors were really trying to play the hero in front of the poor girl back then. Their antics truly were really not impressing anyone.

Green was really happy he grew out of it. Seriously it‘s not like Blue really cared about it anyway he was just a kid! Red was just happy that he got a long-term friend out of it! The audacity the others had was killing Vio. They are still just as bad and it seems like no one was listening to reason.

An explosion of emotions and thoughts collided in Four’s skull. Three denying their logical side’s claim all while getting thrown every instant in their faces by the odd one out. “Whatcha making anyway?” You were observing the short knife blade curiosity not seeing the other’s internal debate. Vio felt like he had to spell it out to each of them. Pulling up memories of their actions towards the outlander. Four struggled to focus on what you were saying but it was too loud!

“Woah there.” You turn him away from his project letting it sit safely on a cooler section of the work top. “Breath Link.” You where kneeling down in-front of him holding his hand. He focused on your warmth. The way you rubbed small circles on the back of his hand. On your voice that instructed him to breathe. In for four, hold for seven, let out for eight. Repeat. Slowly the divide melded back together. Soon the voices faded out. “There we go.” You whispered “good job Link.” Four stared back at you still tired from everything but nonetheless happy that your here with him.

Man, he loved you so much.

Wait-

___________________________________

- It was definitely an I told you so moment.

- Four as a whole though is still struggling to come to terms with it, even though he had already admitted his feelings.

- Another case of: drown him in affection until he realized. Not because of him not believing you! It���s just you have four people in a trench coat here! If one is conflicted then four as a whole will feel that subtly.

___________________________________

Bonus (just Headcanons):

Wind (finding out that a Link has a crush on you)

- The little gremlin is going to have a field day! He was thinking about messing around but the other hero is doing his work for him!

- The only one saved from this Black Mail harvest is you. He does have a few things but you mostly let him off the hook when he gets in trouble anyway sooooo…

- Not the best wing man but he honestly isn’t trying. He is just enjoying the journey.

- He might be tempted to help if he was asked but there isn’t much he could do. You are his right hand after all! Why would he let your secrets go so easily?

- Imagine Wind just vibes with you when the other Link is trying their best and you literally ask if the other hero was ok since they are acting weird around you. It would take Wind a minute to get an answer because all he is thinking is: ‘are you dense?’

- Or on the flip side. If you know about their feelings. He would definitely be on board of helping you out. Again, you’re his right hand! Of course, he’ll help you! (Favoritism)

- Wind: “Don't worry. He likes your butt and fancy hair. I know. I read their diary.” (Y/n): “He thinks it's fancy?”

(Part 1) and (Part 2)

My First Request is now done :D! That was fun. Thank you Pinky and Star for the request <3

[aangelinakii]

Not sure if this counts since it’s still Clem, but it’s S2 Clem!

Imagine Sarita had a child around Clem’s age so when Clementine and Kenny reunite he introduces her to Sarita’s kid (which is… Reader in this case, I guess) and they become Clem’s first crush… </3 I’d like to imagine them both surviving together despite the odds :)

DAYBREAK

in which you and clementine manage to watch the sunrise

season : two

character : clementine

song : daybreak , dreamcatcher

warning : mention of death of family members

date : 10th november 2021

note : thank you dc and anon for helping me come up with something for this <3

the view from the resort was breathtaking, but, no matter how many times your breath grew short at the sight of it, you kept going back for more.

in the winter months, you would sneak out of bed earlier to watch as the sun glowed orange and red, and would stand outside before dinner to watch the sun and moon swap places. after you, your mum and kenny found the lodge, you and kenny would grow closer, just sitting on the porch and staring out into the distance — but when a new group came along, holding onto a girl around your age, your horizon-watching partner switched out. since kenny knew her, he didn't mind.

your knew horizon-watching partner was a girl called clementine. judging by the stories she had to tell, she'd seen a lot, but was coping well, especially now that she'd reunited with kenny; a member of her previous group.

hoping to find food and supplies, you and your mum – sarita – had found kenny holed up in a restaurant. long story short, the two fell in love. near the beginning, your father, out of fear, abandoned you and sarita. he hadn't popped up since, and, because of his actions, you weren't wanting to cross paths again either.

having another kid your age around was a nice change. you were just about a year into the apocalypse, and each day you missed your old school friends more and more; so many memories, so many people you saw each day, and there was no way of knowing whether or not they were alive. but at least you had her.

her name was clementine. as sweet as her name was, she seemed like she could be feisty if she wanted (that's what luke said, anyway). from kenny's stories about his old group, clementine was sweet and inexperienced, but judging by the others' words, she could handle herself just fine.

honestly, from what you'd heard, you were rather intimidated by her at first. however, after one evening when she joined you in watching as the sun sunk low below the horizon, you came to realise that she was just as sweet as her name despite the stories.

after that night, the two of you would meet up before or after dinner, or sneak out of bed after lights out — whenever the sun set and the moon rose — just to watch the sky change with each other, learning more about one another and building opinions and sentiments.

behind you, the door swings shut, and footsteps tread lightly, crunching down on slushy snow. ahead of you, the orange sun begins to sink further down into the trees, casting a series of yellows, pinks and purples to dance across the sky.

there was no need to glance behind you to see who had joined you, there was no need to turn your head to the person next to you. you already knew who it was.

"every night i think about how beautiful the sky is, and each night it just gets more beautiful," you spoke aloud.

steam floated up into your face, clouding your vision. when you looked down, brown dreams swirled around in a mug in clementine's hand. you looked back up at her with a puzzled expression, clasping the mug gratefully with your mittened hands.

"cocoa. kenny made some and asked me to give you one," clementine explained shortly. she brought her hands up to her face, and you saw she had her own mug.

"thanks," you spoke softly, turning back to the prancing colours in the sky.

in the lodge behind you, multi-coloured christmas lights flashed and blinked away on the tree they sat on. none of you knew what date it was — barely what year — but everyone assumed it was nearing christmas. there was snow; snow, winter. winter, christmas.

someone had found a box of christmas decorations, and everyone liked the idea of some form of normality.

"what did you normally do this time of year? like, christmas time of year," you asked, glancing over at clementine, drawing the warm chocolate drink to your lips.

a small smile appeared on the girl's lips as she remembered. "we used to put up the tree. we would sing christmas songs, and bake christmas treats. and on christmas eve we would leave out a glass of milk and a mince pie or cookie for santa. it was really nice."

"oh yeah? i bet you were great at singing," you let out a laugh. "what was your favourite song?"

"obviously 'all i want for christmas' is high up there," clem replied. "but we always sang 'jingle bell rock'. it was my dad's favourite." her cheerful tone faltered at the end of her sentence.

you turned back, looking out onto the skyline once again, the previous relaxed atmosphere now burning with tension. how could you fix this?

"hey," you spoke up again after a moment, turning to look at clementine once again. "what if we sang for everyone?"

"what?" the girl next to you gasped, taken aback.

"sing. like christmas songs. maybe it'll be nice."

the small smile returned to clementine's lips, but she looked away. "maybe."

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi Steph! reading your blog has become a sort of guilty pleasure for me. Thanks for everything, it’s so clear that you put a lot of time and energy into your content. I was wondering if you have any johnlock fics that feature a particularly well-written or memorable original character? I always love to see how authors integrate their own character creations into johnlock stories!

Hey Nonny!

Ahhhh!! This is a GREAT request, because I like well-written OC’s in fics, so yeah, this is a great list to make. Here’s what I recall from my bookmarks. Please add your own faves, friends!

MEMORABLE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS

Ex by Itsallfine (T, 1,248 w., 1 Ch. || Angsty Fluff, Love Confessions, Coming Out, Exes, First Kiss, Fake Relationship, Getting Outed) – One night, in the midst of their post-case high and on the cusp of something more, John and Sherlock run into John’s ex. His ex-boyfriend.

The Prize We Sought Is Won by deathfrisbees (E, 4,610 w., 1 Ch. || First Time, Mild D/S, Oral, Military Kink, Bottomlock) – Sherlock's in love, or in lust, or both--unfortunately, the object of his affections is not only his completely oblivious flatmate, but said flatmate would probably run screaming into the hills should he find out. John's been invited to a wedding--unfortunately, the groom used to serve under him back in Afghanistan, and requests that John wear a uniform he's honestly not sure he fits into. Unfortunately for both flatmates, Sherlock's got a military kink the size of Kandahar and John wants to know if he actually can fit into this uniform or if his eyes are deceiving him. It goes from there.

Time on my hands by Mildredandbobbin (M, 7,179 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-S3, One Night Stands, Mutual Pining, Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Sexual Exploration / Discovery, Desperation, Body Worship) – Virginity’s a construct, a concept—what does losing one’s virginity entail for a gay man anyway? Sherlock wants to fill that particular gap in his knowledge but John won’t, can’t, never will assist and there’s only so much desperately unspoken pining even Sherlock can take.

High and Tight, Soft and Loose by cwb (E, 7,429 w., 1 Ch. || Jealous John, Miscommunications / Misunderstandings, First Kiss / Time, BAMF John, Insecure Sherlock, Clueless Sherlock, POV John, Embarrassed John, Adorable Sherlock, Junk Size, UST / RST) – John pressed the knuckle of his index finger against his mouth and sighed. “So, you're coiled like a spring and ready to be ... sprung?” “If you want to be pedestrian about it, yes.” “Like I said, you should do something about that.” “And like I said, pedestrian. What would you have me do? Take up jogging? Yoga? Oh! Unless you mean –” “I don't mean anything. Let’s drop it.”

Matters of National Security by mistyzeo (E, 8,465 w., 1 Ch. || BAMF John, Doctor John, Jealous Sherlock, Dating, Bisexuality, Arguing, Stupidity, Teasing, First Kiss/Time, Hand Jobs, Frottage, RST, Idiots in Love) – John starts dating a male client of Sherlock's, and Sherlock can't figure out why he's so incensed about it.

High Tide by stardust_made (T, 8,540 w., 1 Ch. || Jealousy, Angst, First Kiss) – A little favour Sherlock stupidly agrees to do for Mycroft leads to John meeting a handsome, affluent man, who is going out of his way to woo him. Sherlock struggles with the situation and with his own reactions to it. Part 1 of The High Tide Series

Iris by slashscribe (E, 11,948 w., 1 Ch. || Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Post-S3) – Sherlock does his best to make John happy when John comes back to 221B with his new baby after the events of Season 3, but Sherlock has a track record of getting things wrong in this area. This story is an exploration of their gradual shift from friends to lovers, told from Sherlock's perspective, full of a lot of pining and lack of emotional awareness.

A Brand of Gold by aquabelacqua (M, 12,757 w., 1 Ch. || Mutual Pining, POV John, Phone Sex, Texting, Masturbation, Long Distance, Drunk Texting) – What am I doing? he wondered. The answer came back at once: Flirting. He let the vital, missing piece snap into place as surely and as cleanly as if it had always been there. He was flirting with Sherlock Holmes.

Twelfth Night by yourdykeinshiningarmor (E, 15,139 w., 5 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Christmas, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Angst & Fluff, BJ’s, Anal) – John is invited to his aunt's Twelfth Night ball. Sherlock offers to attend with him as a friendly face among strangers, but John's family force him to address his true feelings for Sherlock.

Vessel by Rhuia (E, 15,695 w., 1 Ch. || Cancer, Medfic) – That was the surprising bit – the way his doctor said it, eyes shining with sympathy but breathing it out, shifting it off her shoulders and thrusting it onto his, making him take it like an unwanted gift.

A Life Well-Lived by Kate_Lear (E, 20,121 w., 1 Ch. || Original Male Character, Sherlock Woos John, Jealous Sherlock, Reluctant Bi-John, Past Abuse, Insecure John, Reassuring / Caring Sherlock, Protective Sherlock, Understanding Sherlock) – John got scared off men by an abusive past relationship. Sherlock has to try and woo him while not scaring him off with protective possessive rage.

Winter's Delights by Kate_Lear (E, 21,173 w., 1 Ch. || Holmes Family, Christmas, Fake Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Bed Sharing, Domestics) – Sherlock takes John home for Christmas to meet the extended Holmes family. Part 1 of Winter's Delights

A Shipless Ocean by myswordfishmind (M, 22,135 w., 4 Ch. || Post-TRF, John has a Kid, Angst, Reunion, Falling in Love, Open Ending) – Ten years after the fall Sherlock goes back to London to find that John no longer lives there. Instead, he resides in a seaside town, a widower, and the father of a seven year old son. Now, Sherlock must struggle with the fact that there may no longer be a place for him in this new world.

Maintaining A Personal Life by Gingerhermit (E, 24,284 w., 6 Ch. || Alternating POV’s, Bisexuality, BAMF!John, Jealous Sherlock, Romance / Drama, Sort-of Case Fic, Peril & Angst, Love Confessions, Toplock, Soft Idiots in Love, Post S3) – Sherlock and John discover some interesting revelations about each other’s sexuality, which lead them both to question the assumptions they've made about one another for years. In the midst of their mutual discoveries, a dangerous psychopath looms on the side-lines who threatens to destroy their new beginning.

26 Pieces by Lanning (E, 28,236 w., 1 Ch. || H/C, Torture, First Time, Happy Ending, Schmoop, Past Abuse) – Mycroft gives Sherlock the apparently simple task of solving a puzzle box containing a stolen microchip. It isn't simple.

Where Else Would I Be? by cwb (E, 34,910 w., 10 Ch. || Retirementlock, Domestic Fluff, Falling in Love, Parentlock, Fluff and Smut, Reminiscing) – John and Sherlock's five-year-old granddaughter spends the weekend with them in Sussex. Sherlock happily indulges her whims, and John takes care of them while quietly revisiting the past thirty years of their lives together.

Classified(s) by blueink3 (E, 36,153 w., 4 Ch. || Wedding Date AU || Fake Relationship, Jealous, PIning, H/C, Idiots in Love, Happy Ending, Mary is not Nice, Escort Service) – Clara's American father is the ambassador to some such territory that Great Britain probably used to own, but she (and Harry’s undying love for her) is the reason John is getting on a flight at 12:30pm, flying across the second largest ocean in the world, and pretending to be in a perfectly happy, healthy relationship with an undoubtedly perfectly coiffed stranger. See, Clara is not only American (and wealthy to boot), she's also best friends with John’s ex-fiancée. Whom she's placed in the wedding party. As Maid of Honor. And John just happens to be Best Man. Bloody brilliant.

Nothing to Make a Song About by emmagrant01 (E, 36,833 w., 10 Ch. || Post-TRF, First Time, Reunion, Jealous John, Pining Sherlock, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending, Sherlock Has a Boyfriend) – When Sherlock returned from his faked death, John could not forgive him for the deception and broke off their friendship. Ten years later, John returns to London in search of yet another new beginning. Sherlock, not surprisingly, is waiting.

Set in Stone by SilentAuror (E, 39,309 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Wedding, Therapy, Fluff and Angst) – Sherlock and John are back from Ravine Valley and planning their wedding. However, as they move past the trial of the human traffickers, Sherlock can't help but wonder if he's imagining that John is becoming a little distant. Surely he isn't getting cold feet about the wedding... Part 2 of The Ravine Valley series

Only To Be With You by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (M, 40,768 w., 4 Ch. || Black Mirror / Future AU || Character Death, Future Technology, Sickness/Cancer/Illness, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending, First Person POV John, Pining John, Heart-Wrenching Angst, Promise of Forever) – I tell myself that next time I’ll come near this same place again. Wait around for the mysterious stranger in his coat to dash past me, hot on the heels of a new criminal in black. I think this all the way back to my Exit, planning where I’ll wait and what I’ll say when I see him. Scheming on how to get his name. It’s only once I reach the Exit Point door that I realize two hours and forty-five minutes have passed, and I realize that this won’t be the last time I Visit. It won’t be the last time at all.

Corpus Hominis by mycapeisplaid (E, 47,709 w., 12 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Case Fic, Fluff, Romance, Frottage, Angst, Anal, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Spas / Massages, Shampoo, Jealousy, Fake Relationship) - John knows the human body intimately. He’s had plenty of opportunity for study as a doctor, soldier, and lover. There’s one particular body, however, he knows very little about. When Sherlock launches himself head-first into a new obsession and they get sent on a case in an unlikely location, the pair discovers each other’s bodies with confusing yet delightful (and sometimes hilarious) results.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

Coventry by standbygo (E, 52,020 w., 26 Ch. || Dollhouse AU || Case Fic, Slow Burn, Sci-Fi / Fantasy, First Kiss / Time, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, BAMF John, Falling in Love) – “Let me get this straight,” John said, wondering when his life had become a science fiction film. “Some guy orders up a personality, a person, to his specifications, and they program this into a real live person, who has consented to do this, and she goes to this person and acts as his wife, or lawyer, or Royal Marine, or Navy Seal or what have you, and she has all the skills, all the knowledge, everything? Then you say the magic words, and she follows you back to The House, and they erase it all until her next appointment?”

Albion and the Woodsman by Glenmore (NR [E], 54,437 w., 50 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post S3, Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst, Family, Drug Use, Depression, Sherlock POV, Light Humour, Reconnecting, Declarations of Love) – Sherlock and John are devastated after Mary Morstan makes her final moves. Sherlock relapses at the crack house, John walks around the world … and a lot happens in between. Parentlock, in the good way.

Wars We Fought, Things We're Not by blueink3 (M, 55,204 w., 10 Ch. || Post S3 / Post TAB, Parentlock, Fluff & Angst, Kidnapping, Whump, Post-TAB, UST/URT, 3G, Mild Peril, Slow Burn, Couple for a Case, Protective Mycroft, Infant Death Pre-Story, Friends to Lovers) –  Five months after John's world has fallen apart, Mycroft sends the consulting detective and his doctor on a case that neither is prepared for.

Isosceles by SilentAuror (E, 56,609 w., 7 Ch. || Post-S4, POV John, Original Male Character / Sherlock Dates Another Man, Love Triangle, Jealous John, Virgin Sherlock, Sexual Coaching, Angst, Romance, Domesticity, Unrequited Feelings, Miscommunication, First Kiss/Time, For a Case, Friends With Benefits, Bottomlock, Love Confessions, Spooning) – After solving a case for a major celebrity, Sherlock gets himself asked out. When John asks, he discovers that Sherlock has no intention of going, at least not until John agrees to coach him through whatever he might need to know for his date...

The Great Sex Olympics of 221B by XistentialAngst (E, 58,611 w., 10 Ch. || First Time/Kiss, Experiments / Sexual Experimentations, Multi Pairings, Voyeurism) – John Watson thinks Sherlock Holmes should admit that he, Watson, is more of an expert on sex than Sherlock is. But Sherlock refuses to concede the point. He comes up with an experiment plan that will resolve the issue. The results will determine who wins the prize. But sometimes even the best thought-out scientific study has unexpected consequences.

Bridging the Ravine by SilentAuror (E, 58,887 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Couple For a Case, Bed-Sharing, First Times, Confessions, Awkwardness, Sex Trafficking, Massages, Wet T-Shirt Contest, Group Therapy, Past Loss of Child) – Sherlock and John go undercover at Ravine Valley, a therapy centre for same-sex male couples in an investigation into a possible human trafficking ring. As they pose as a couple and fake their way through the therapy sessions for the sake of the case, it quickly becomes difficult to avoid discussing their very real issues. Set roughly six nine months after series 4.

The Bells of King's College by SilentAuror (E, 64,019 w., 5 Ch. || Post-S4, Missed Opportunities, Angst with Happy Ending, Fake Relationship, Case Fic, John POV, Jealous John, John in Denial, Travelling / Holidays, Virgin Sherlock, Wedding Proposals) – It's only been two weeks since Eurus Holmes disrupted their lives when Mycroft sends John and Sherlock to Cambridge to pose as an engaged couple at a wedding show in the hopes of solving six unsolved deaths...

Summit Fever by J_Baillier (M, 78,802 w., 18 Ch. || Mountain Climber AU || POV John, Angst, Tragedy, Suicidal Ideation, The Himalayas, Mountain Guide / Doctor John, Mount Climber Sherlock, Loneliness, Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Injured Sherlock / Sherlock Whump, Pining John) – After graduating from medical school, John Watson followed his heart to the Himalayas. Ten years later, he's a haunted cynic working for his ex-lover's trekking and mountaineering company. Will leading an expedition to Annapurna I—the most lethal of all the world's highest mountains—shake John out of his reverie, and who is the mystery client added to the group at the last minute?

Secrets and Revelations by Hisstah (E, 83,535 w., 9 Ch. || Sentinel / Guides Omegaverse AU || Adventure, Violence, Anal / Oral, Omega!John / Alpha!Sherlock, Case Fic, Politics, Mild DubCon) – Dr John Watson has some major secrets that he's kept from his flatmate, Alpha Sentinel Sherlock Holmes. Now the Sentinel Tower is after him. Can John stay out of their hands until he can reveal his secrets to Sherlock? Part 1 of Secrets and Revelations

Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater /  Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation) – John "Five Oceans" Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

Maintenance and Repair by patternofdefiance (E, 106,650 w., 71 Ch. || Future AU, Augmentation || Augmented John, Depression, Body Modification, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, Sci-Fi, Self-Care, Body Dysmorphia) – John wants to explain the rush of sensation and data, which is just another form of sensation (or is it the other way around?). John wants to say: Augmentation circuits report temperature, pressure, various forms of quantitative input. Sudden changes are reported as pain, since sudden changes are dangerous, and pain is the quickest way to encourage reflexive extraction. But all John can manage is, “Nng.” Because this sudden touch is not reporting as pain. Part 2 of STATIC

The Burning Heart by May_Shepard (M, 119,150 w., 21 Ch. || Canon Divergence, Post-TRF, John’s Sexuality, S3 Rewrite, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV John Watson, John’s Gay) – When Sherlock dies, John Watson feels like his life is over too. He’s completely shut down, until Mark Morstan, a new nurse at John’s medical clinic, catches his attention, and helps him uncover the long buried truth of his attraction to men. Although he’s certain he’ll never get over Sherlock, John plans to move on, and build a new life with Mark, unaware that Sherlock is not quite as dead as he appears, and that Mark is hiding secrets of his own.

The Swan Triad Series by Pennin_Ink (T, 121,660 w. across 3 works || Swan Lake AU || Magical / Fairy Tale AU, Romance, Falling in Love, Pining, Psychological Torture, Transformation) – Sherlock and John grow up spending every summer together. Their mothers' attempts to play matchmaker only fuel their mutual resentment and scorn. But then, one summer.

Colors by Quesarasara (E, 140,537 w., 17 Ch. || Pleasantville-Inspired AU || Soulmates, Colour Bonds, Alternating POV, Angst, Fluff, Pining, Case Fic, Medical Procedures) – Everyone on earth is born with eyes that see in black, white, and an endless series of greys. When you meet your soulmate, you finally see the world in color. We're all searching for the person who brings color to our lives. John and Sherlock are no exception. Part 1 of The Colors 'Verse

The Adventure of the Silver Scars by tangledblue (NR [M], 142,458 w., 41 Ch. || S3 Fix-It, Post-HLV/ Post-TAB / Canon Compliant, Case Fic, No Baby, Angst, Humour, UST, Slow Burn, Angry John, Reconciliation, Not Nice Mary / Leaving Mary, Dependent Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Caretaker John, Fist Fights, It’s An Experiment, Virgin Sherlock, Dancing, Drugging, John Whump, Pet Names, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Scars) – It’s been thirteen months since Mary shot Sherlock and John finds he’s still pissed off about it. Sherlock had thought everything was settled: John and Mary, domestic bliss. But when John turns up at Baker Street with suitcases, the world’s only consulting detective might not be prepared for the consequences. A new case. Some old scores to settle. Certain danger. Concertos, waltzes, and whisky.

The Lost Special: Family Matters (As Do Relationships) by ShirleyCarlton  (M, 144,688 w., 40 Ch. || S4 Fix It Fic, Unreliable Narrator, John’s Mind Bungalow, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending) – Sherrinford is not really the name of some high security prison. That was just a figment of John’s frantic coma dream. And Eurus is not actually Sherlock’s sister. That’s just something random she said to John before shooting him. Sherlock and John were never actually estranged. That was just their act to cover up what really happened to Mary – or Rosamund Moran, as her real name has turned out to be. Sherlock does have a secret sibling, though, and his name is Sherrinford. After finally eliminating Moran – though in a rather dramatically different way than they had envisioned – and exposing the truth about Eurus, John encourages Sherlock to delve into his past and to find out whether the reasons to keep Sherrinford away from Sherlock were the right ones, and to discover what really happened in 1981. Along the way, Sherlock and John gradually, finally, stop keeping each other at a distance, and eventually become a proper family of their own. (SC’s version of Sherrinford may as well be an OC; he’s well written and different from Canon)

Sketchy by serpentynka (E, 184,053 w., 83 Ch. || Post-TRF, Post-Mary, John Whump, Slow Burn Love Story, Case Fic, Art, Porn With Feelings, Switchlock, Travelling, Career Change, Family Secrets, Illness / Health) – What (and who) will be left when nobody cares about your Work? A slow-burn fic with cases, places, mistaken identities, unfair choices, essential changes, violent feels, blatant lies, fearless portraiture, family secrets, high-risk bespoke gifts, durable friendships, bedtime stories, foreign travel and tongues, sickness (and health), and the significance of things which are slow to unfurl -- but cannot be ignored. Oh, and...porn. Part 1: Sherlock takes on an obvious case (barely a 4) and meets someone who will force him to re-examine what it means to see. Part 1 of Sketchy

The Gilded Cage by BeautifulFiction (E, 326,887 w., 31 Ch. || Omegaverse || Omega Sherlock / Alpha John, Friends to Lovers, Dub Con, Reproductive Rights) – In a world where Omegas are the property of the elite Alphas, locked away and treasured by those wealthy enough to buy them, John never questioned his flatmate's secondary gender. Sherlock Holmes was an Alpha through-and through. Wasn't he? A chance discovery turns the world on its head, and John is left grappling to come to terms with Sherlock's past as events conspire to threaten their future.

[dancingazaleas]

zeke yeager | my baby

this is bc of the new episode; i’ve known his backstory for a while but i didn’t come up with the idea until now LFMAOOAOA

anyways zeke supremacy

edit: this is so bad but enjoy LMFOAOAOA

warnings/notes: this is strictly platonic, takes place in canonverse during zeke’s childhood then to the beginning of season 4, cursing, mentions of mental abuse from family, murder, fem!reader(feel free to change if u want), yeah i’m unoriginal and the reader is the female titan before annie, angst,

when you first met zeke, zeke was extremely hesitant towards you.

grisha and dina had brought you into the house, a 17 year old girl who had soft and gentle eyes along with a nice smile. zeke had recognized you from the warrior program. you hadn’t inherited your titan just yet, you still had a few more years before they would allow it to be given to you. your predecessor gained the titan around your age, no one really knows why. zeke assumes that it must be a similar case with mr. ksaver and himself.

it shocked zeke in all honesty. they’re letting a warrior watch over him? one that isn’t in cahoots with his mother and father?

it wasn’t until grisha and dina pulled him into a different room and told him to get information on your views that he understood why. they wanted to use you, just like they wanted to use zeke. the worst of it all was that zeke knows you. he looks up to you, you graduated third out of all of your peers, you express love with the younger candidates such as zeke.

he felt like curling up in his bed and crying, he didn’t want you to babysit him just so his parents could use you.

but whenever the couple left, your arms encased him in warmth. you were hugging him tightly to you, fingernails surely digging into the fabric of his shirt. he felt his eyes widen whenever he felt a drop of a liquid on his shoulder. you were crying.

you pulled away and put a hand on his cheek, looking at him with endearment. zeke started crying at this, not once had dina touched him like this. not once had grisha looked at him like this.

“it’s okay, my boy,” you pull him close again, “i’m here.”

for the first time, zeke wasn’t cowering in a corner while he sobbed. he sobbed in the arms of a person, one that loved him dearly whether he knew it or not. you were even crying for him.

“my mother and father were apart of the same group,” you whispered as you stroked his hair, “they pushed me so far to my limits.”

“so, i did something i regret,” you sob, “something i hope you’re never forced to do.”

your whimper gave him chills, “i murdered my mother with a butcher knife and pinned the crime onto my father. all at the age of ten. to this day, i don’t know how i got away with it. maybe the police pitied me or found it excusable because of their affiliations with the group.”

“you hurt someone,” he sniffles, eyes widened in fear.

it gave you a frown, however you couldn’t blame him, “i did. it was mistake and i wish i had never done it. i just wished for my mother and father to love me, not to use me. after that, i found myself in the warrior program. maybe with this power, i could do some good. to show marley that us eldians are not devils.”

you rid him of his snot and tears with your shirt, “when i saw your father the time he came to observe you, i was immediately able to tell. your reaction had said it all. i can’t allow myself to witness you go through what i did without doing something. even if it’s small.”

he blinks at you after you softly kiss him on his forehead.

“now, is there anything you want to do?”

————

that afternoon, you played catch and volleyball with zeke. after that, you bought him whatever meal he wanted from the market and ate with him at the table. he told you about his stuffed monkey, who he named jerry, and his adventures.

he was sad when you had to leave, to which dina and grisha informed him you would come to their home sparingly. although he was delighted, he was also sad.

the next day, you doted on him during the short breaks between his training. patting his head, shaking him by his shoulders, and giving him a hug. when lunch came around, you pulled out a home cooked lunch for him as you sat on a bench. you would give him advice with training and his health while he ate.

he even shared some of his food with her.

after that was his time with ksaver. he didn’t see you during that time, obviously, but that didn’t mean you didn’t come during their conversations.

zeke was surprised to hear the praising from ksaver. ksaver said that you were a good figure for him and that you had a genuine heart. it made him feel at ease.

when the day was over, you walked zeke home and even ate dinner with him and his parents. it was a surprise that made you slightly bitter, but you accepted nonetheless.

they talked to you excitedly, asking about your duties as a warrior. you exceptionally avoided answering the questions, instead prodding at their own occupations and duties.

in the end, it felt like a game of tag. avoiding and then charging.

the night you were on your way to watch zeke, you felt your heart drop at the feral screeching of grisha and the reassurance of dina. you banged your fist against the door worriedly, sweat forming at your hairline.

the yelling stopped and you heard the patter of footsteps against the floor. dina looked flustered as she opened the door, face tear stained and eyebrows knitted up in concern.

“oh, (name), we don’t need you to watch over him anymore.”

“no, please, allow me,” you put on a fake smile that made her relax.

“you can take him out for a bit,” she, surprisingly, compromised and stepped aside to let you inside.

you bolted to zeke’s dark room. he was in a corner with his knees pushed against his chest and his hands covering his ears. his tears were making puddles on his knees as he stared blankly at the wall. you rush to him, pulling his head into your chest and picking him up.

“it’s alright,” you whispered, “you’ll be with me for a little bit.”

he didn’t respond but just wiped his eyes when he realized he would pass by his mom. you gave dina a brisk goodbye before leaving and taking him to a nearby park.

“it’s alright, my boy, it’s alright,” you coo and stroke his sweaty back.

for once, he felt okay.

————

the day zeke reported his parents, you held him in your arms. from then, he stayed with his grandparents and often found himself spending time with you after training when his schedule allowed it.

now, zeke is 16 and you’re 29. zeke was often seen with you or ksaver during his free time, now having the power of the best titan secured when ksaver’s term is up.

you mentor a girl named annie leonhardt, the next inheritor of the female titan. zeke occasionally sees you and annie catching some bugs in the grass during your mentoring. other days, you talk to her or just look at the sky. once at the beginning of the year, he once saw you take annie ice skating over a lake.

when he spends his time with you, you’re often doting on him and taking care of him. one time, you convinced the kids and some of the older soldiers to all play a game of baseball after your training was over.

you walked the extra mile for zeke no matter what. zeke was in trouble during a war and you swatted him into the trenches with your hand before attacking the enemy a year ago. whenever zeke would get hurt, you’d be his nurse.

if zeke’s being honest, you’re the maternal figure in his life. you act as if he’s your son, love him like he’s your son, and sometimes you even let it slip and call him that. sometimes zeke messes up and calls you mom.

in your eyes, he is your son.

in his eyes, you’re his mom.

but with being a parental figure came with fighting. it didn’t happen often, but whenever it did it was bad. zeke would become more irritable and angry while you would become reserved and melancholy.

when zeke was 14, you got into a fight so bad that it ended up getting you bedridden. you’d been sick from stress and it lasted for weeks until zeke swallowed his pride and apologized.

it almost made bertholdt, annie, reiner, porco, pieck, and marcel laugh at how domestic the two of you are when together. but as soon as you left zeke’s side, he would revert back to his quiet and receptive personality.

“zeke, my boy,” you call as you walk towards all the warrior candidates, “i’ve got your favorite.”

“thanks,” he hums when you stand beside him.

“i also brought some food for you all too. since we didn’t have training today, i thought you all could enjoy a nice break by having a picnic,” you clap your hands with a smile and they all feel like they’re seeing an angel.

they all agree and follow behind you when you start leading them towards a grassy field. you set the basket down and rummage through it, pulling out a nice thick blanket so the blades of the grass wouldn’t poke through.

“help me lay this out,” zeke sighs but obliges.

with zeke’s help, everyone is sitting on the blanket and eating and conversing. you listen quietly as you chew on the sandwich you made.

“miss (name),” pieck’s soft voice said beside you, “thank you for the picnic.”

you smile and shake your head, cheeks puffing out from the food that’s still in your mouth.

“can we do this again,” shyly asks reiner.

you gulp down your food and choke a bit, “y-yes! of course!”

you turn to zeke and speak quietly, “how was training yesterday?”

“it was fine. my calves are kind of sore though, it’s been a while since we did squats,” he shrugs and looks up, “ksaver let me pitch to him again.”

“i’m assuming it was at least enjoyable?”

“yeah...,” he trails off, “could you massage my calves for me in a little while?”

you pinch his cheek as you laugh, “of course! anything for you, my child.”

he chuckles while he swats at your hand, “quit that. it hurts.”

before you could pinch him even harder, porco’s loud voice interrupted.

“miss (name), are you zeke’s mom?”

his brother and annie hit him, scolding him in whispers.

“i-i’m so sorry miss (name)..! my brother means no harm,” marcel stutters nervously.

“it’s alright, i don’t mind,” zeke’s slightly flustered, “but no, i’m not zeke’s mother.”

“so why do you act so friendly?”

“i met zeke when i was 17 and he was just a little boy. i would watch him while his grandparents were away,” you lie like it’s nothing.

“i’ve always seen zeke as my little boy though even if i’m only 13 years older,” it has them all gaping and zeke staring at his food.

“why’d you become a warrior then,” reiner blurts out, slapping a hand over his mouth in shame, “sorry... but with all due respect, you have a family you love and who love you... why would you let your life end so short?”

for just a second the smile on your face cracks into a frown as you feel your throat tighten up, “why are you asking such disrespectful questions? i understand you have no malicious intent, however it sounds as if you are seeing my decision as an ignorant one. are you calling me ignorant for becoming a warrior?”

zeke just looks away sadly. you never really had to put on this demanding ploy too much since no one dared to ask a question such as reiner did. not to mention that you had to in order to keep your position. reiner scrambles to pledge his loyalty to marley with your eyes burning holes into his head.

the others slightly cower in fear, they’d only ever heard that you could be like this from their mentors. but when they all looked in your, now, sad eyes, they relaxed.

“but, to answer your question,” you say reluctantly, “i was already selected to inherit the female titan.”

“now,” you cough and zeke knows it’s because you want to cry, “i need to go.”

they all help you get everything together, fidgeting anxious as they watch you walk back to the dorm. when you were far enough away, porco shouts at reiner for asking such questions and ruining the picnic. it ends up with annie joining in with the berating and marcel slapping porco upside the head.

zeke just leaves and follows you. he can’t be bothered to listen to them argue while you’re probably crying.

zeke knew it was about your 13 years coming to an end, meaning you wouldn’t be with him anymore. the first time he brought it up, you sobbed out apologies while holding his head to your chest. zeke knows not to bring it up again.

however, reiner didn’t. although he was slightly frustrated with reiner, he understood that he meant no harm to you. sometimes reiner just doesn’t think before he speaks.

zeke finds you with your head in your hands as you cry on your bed. the creaking of the door opening has you looking up and making eye contact and your eyes fill up with tears. zeke shut the door behind him and sat next to you after you pat the spot beside you.

zeke knows what’s going to happen, but allows it anyways because it puts you both at ease.

you cradle his head to your chest, stroking his hair with one hand and his back with another. zeke feels himself starting to cry when you cry out apologies and exclamations of love.

“zeke, my boy, i love you,” you whimper, “i’m so sorry i cannot be by your side until i grow old.”

zeke’s fingers curl into the fabric of your shirt and let’s out a broken sob.

“you’re the light of my life, zeke,” you whisper, “my beautiful boy, my beautiful baby.”

his shoulders shake and he wanted to tell you to stop and to pull away. but he won’t.

“you’re the son i never had, zeke, did you know that,” you sob and squeeze him tight.

it has him wailing and holding you tight. though zeke knew this, you never said it out loud.

“my baby, my baby,” you croak, “i love you so much, zeke.”

“love you too,” he chokes out, muffled by your shirt.

“zeke, my boy, my son, my zeke.”

“please don’t leave me,” it makes you sob even louder.

“i’m so sorry, zeke, i’m so sorry.”

————

zeke couldn’t look in annie’s direction after your term ended and her’s started. even at 29 years of age, he still curls up in a ball and cries himself to sleep. he carries a photograph of the two of you, he remembers taking the picture on your 26th birthday.

back on marley, whenever you were brought up in conversations, reiner, porco, and pieck stared at him with sympathy.

after zeke’s arms grow back on the blimp, he pulls out the folded photograph from his pocket. he stares at your beaming smile.

“who’s the girl,” eren asks, ignoring how yelena looks at him fiercely, “when’d you get a girlfriend?”

zeke shakes his head, “not a girlfriend.”

“who is she then,” eren gestures with his hand, the clinking of the metal chains echoing in the small room on the blimp.

“my mother,” he murmurs while he hands it to eren.

“dina doesn’t look like that.”

“eren, did you ever see a memory of a woman being introduced as a babysitter?”

“now that it’s being mentioned, yea.”

“that’s her,” the memory has him chuckling, “she treated me like her son before she died.”

eren transfers his gaze to yelena, a silent request for her to give more information.

“(name) (last name) was the inheritor of the female titan before annie leonhardt. she inherited the titan a few months after she turned 17, her predecessor, flora, was unexpectedly injured during war and was not able to regenerate. although disorganized and unexpected, (name) managed to eat flora. she died at the age of 30 when annie ate her as a pure titan,” yelena elaborates hesitantly as zeke’s small smile fades, “she was often recognized for her kind personality and optimistic attitude.”

“i see,” he said.

“were you her beautiful boy,” eren taunts.

“yes. i was.”

he sounds sad while he folds it back up and puts it in his pocket.

maybe he could be the same to eren.

[the-yearning-astronaut]

Ok so I was responding to @freetown-vanth's post about Tarka but I realized real quick that I was gonna end up with another character analysis essay lol.

Warning: spoilers for episodes 10-12 of Star Trek Discovery season 4.

I apologize in advance for this epically long character essay. I genuinely miss doing character analyses and drawing parallels between character arcs....

I don't typically like asshole characters -- I didn't even like Paul in the first 4-5 episodes of season 1 tbh -- and I rarely, if ever, like antagonists. While I occasionally enjoy truly evil characters as much as the next person, I've never really cared for villains with a tragic backstory™; I've never found them to be particularly interesting or their motives to be compelling. Every now and again, however, show runners will write an antagonist that resonates with me. Sometimes they're written as grey antiheroes, other times as foils to the protagonist(s). There's always something about them, however, that resonates within a deep part of my soul-- something in their motives that I can relate to. These are the sorts of characters that I find most interesting -- they're like mirrors, reflecting back those parts of ourselves that we'd rather not analyze because they frighten us. Frank Castle is one of those characters to me and is usually one of the first ones that always comes to mind.

The writers of Discovery have now given me two more characters like this: Georgiou and Tarka. In a way I think they're actually foils to each other. Or possibly mirrors. Either way, when you set Georgiou, Tarka, and, surprisingly, Book next to each other you end up with a very compelling take on the importance of connection and community.

Let's start with Book: Book starts as an antagonist in s3 -- and when I say antagonist I simply mean he's a character that is at odds with and challenges the protagonist -- in this case, Michael. He's a complex character in that he has a code of honor that he follows and trust in his fellow couriers while also not being above manipulation and trickery to get what he needs. To Michael, at first, he comes across as a gruff, abrasive lone wolf type and only out for himself. And he is, because that's what he's had to be in order to survive in the galaxy he lives in. He's quite different from anyone Michael has known before and he ends up complimenting her beautifully -- they balance each other and which allows them to grow as they challenge each other to become their best selves. This is why, in episode 12 of season 4, Book is able to not only see reason when Reno is talking to him but also follow through on her pleas for him to put an end to the madness he has found himself caught up in. Book is in unimaginable emotional pain and experiencing the intense grief that has come with the literal destruction of his home world. But he's not alone. He has Michael and the crew he's come to call his friends. He has something to hold on to for stability and support. And it's this support that allows him to finally see sense.

Now let's look at Georgiou. I have absolutely loved watching her grow and develop into the incredibly complex character that she becomes by the end of season 3. While she isn't in season 4, I think she's still important to analyze here. Georgiou starts off alone. Yes, she is emperor but she is very very much on her own. Trust anyone, including her daughter, and she runs the risk of being stabbed in the back. She simultaneously has everything and nothing. She's sharp and cutting and horribly cruel and everything her prime'verse counterpart was not. And she had to be that way because in the mirror'verse, to be anything but that means a painful and bloody death. Once she begins to work alongside the crew of the Discovery, alongside Michael, it becomes quickly apparent that the cruelty and bravado is merely a mask and the longer she's with them the less it fits her. She never becomes prime!Georgiou because she's her own person and has been shaped by experiences and relationships in ways that prime!Georgiou could never have imagined. But she does become softer... More kind, in some ways (though certainly not nice!) and as Dr Burnham says in season 2, she becomes the kind of person that would put her life down for others, Michael in particular. She forms such strong bonds with the crew of the Discovery that she attempts to fix all that is wrong with her life in the mirror'verse when given the chance.

Finally, we get to the character I started this post for: Tarka. I've said it before but it's important to say it again here: Tarka has had no one for most of his life. We know nothing of his childhood on Risa, only that he never felt like he fit in anywhere. He was enslaved for an unknown amount of time but spent at least five of those years in isolation. When he is taken to help Oros, he rats him out, believing doing so would lead to his own freedom; it doesn't even occur to him that he could grow to like Oros at this point, let alone love him. And I genuinely believe that he believed that the Syndicate would forget what he told them, especially as the years kept going by and his unwitting betrayal led to nothing. He genuinely believed that they were getting out of there and I don't think he even realized what was happening until the power was cut and their room was stormed. And then Oros forgives him and begs him to run and he does. He runs and he leaves Oros behind -- the one person he cared about and who cared for him in return. And then he loses him. He spends the next half decade with the sole purpose of following through with his promise and finding his way back to Oros. That promise becomes the only tether he has. It's the only thing keeping him going, year after year. Cause I don't doubt that the only reason he works on the new spore drive is because of the slight hope he may find his way to Oros through the network. But then the DMA turns up and ofc he goes after that. Ofc he leans on Book's pain and manipulates him into helping him; he knows exactly what it feels like to lose everything that is important to you and how it makes you utterly vulnerable and willing to do whatever it takes in an attempt to fill that giant, gaping hole in your chest. His bravado and self importance is merely a cover for his pain and grief -- it has a duel purpose: a shield he has built up since losing Oros and a barrier between himself and anyone else. Keep others at arms length, push their buttons and make them hate him as much as he hates himself. And each time he fails at getting closer to Oros, each time something or someone gets in his way, he becomes more desperate. This promise is all he's got left and there's nothing left to lose. It makes the tough calls "easier" to make because if he makes it to the other universe, well, he won't have to deal with what's left in his wake, will he? And I think he does come to consider Book a friend. I think he does genuinely care for him. Unfortunately, Tarka can't see how betraying Book and calling Book his friend don't line up. He betrayed the only person he loved and was loved by in return, after all. Betraying Book is easy. I don't think he went in knowing that destroying the hyperfield and DMA would lead to the destruction of the Discovery, the 10-C, and Earth and Nivar. His expression of surprise is genuine when he sees the results of his calculations, though whether he has actually considered the implications of those results is on the table. Because following through with his plan will get him killed too. And he either knows this and doesn't care or he refuses to think about it. Tbh I think he's lost hope that he'll be able to get to see Oros again and the pain is so great that meeting his own end is more preferable to facing it, regardless of all the others that will follow him.

So we have Book, a man who had what he needed to survive, who finds someone, loses his home, but still has people to anchor him and bring him back down to reality when he loses himself to grief.

We have Georgiou, a woman who had everything and no one, who loses her title and her universe but gains a family that grounds her and allows her to start shedding the sharp facade she's worn her entire life.

And we have Tarka, a man who had nothing and no one until he found someone, only to lose him and then keep losing him while never forming proper connections with others. He has no anchor. He has nothing to keep him steady and he's going to get everyone killed because of it.

The tragedy of Tarka's story illustrates the importance of trust and relationships and connection. Had he asked for help, had he trusted Book and Michael and Paul, had he made an effort to make connections rather than actively push people away... He might have actually had a chance to get to Oros after all. Now tho... I just don't know. I don't want the season to end with him sacrificing himself to save everyone else. I want him to have a chance at growth. Not as part of a redemption arc or anything like that but because I think it's important to show that it's possible to grow and make a better life for yourself even when you aren't seeking redemption of any kind. I don't know how to properly end this essay length post... But I guess I'll end it by saying I hope Tarka has a chance and I hope it's the 10-C that give it to him.

Why have a new alien species capable of strong empathy and who communicate via emotions coded in hydrocarbons...and two characters drowning in their own pain and grief... And not use one to help the others and ease their suffering? I have to have hope that Trek will give us that.

[archduchessofnowhere]

It almost feels like pre-engagement/early marriage Sissi was a very different person from "Empress Elizabeth" and "the Iconic Persona Sissi". Am I just imagining a certain change in her character, or was there actually a significant change?

[Then again, I guess we all change as we age, but I was more wondering if marital life influenced any supposed changes, if such existed]

Sorry that it took me so long to answer!! I wasn't ignoring it I just had a lot of trouble putting this answer together lol. And absolutely, as you say of course everyone changes with age, but the changes she went through definitely had to do with her marriage and her role as an empress.

The early life of Elisabeth doesn't tend to receive much attention in her biographies, most of them starting straight up with her engagement at Ischl. We know that she had a more relaxed childhood compared to other royals, and that she and her siblings grew up closely in a very free and happy enviroment. At fifteen, the only court she would be familiar with was Munich's, which was less strict than the Viennese court, and even so, her family didn't have an official position there, so it was easy for them to have a more private life.

Although royals marrying in their teens was not unusual, she was still very young when she got engaged, and definetly not prepared to become empress. Already during her engagement she grew more and more melancholic as days passed. She was simply afraid of Vienna, and her mother Ludovika even asked if it was possible to postpone the wedding until the season was over and most noble families had already departed (it was not possible).

Elisabeth would always remember her first years of marriage as traumatic. Although in the later years the image of Archduchess Sophie as a mother-in-law from hell set in torturing the young Sisi has been greatly challenged, still remains a fact that, looking back to her youth, that's how Elisabeth remembered her. She felt trapped and asfixiated by the strict Spanish protocol followed in Vienna, missed terribly her home and her Bavarian family, and became depressed. Her first children were born in very quick succesion, and worst of all her daughter's death happening under her care made her feel that she wasn't fit to be a mother (this of course it's not the case, little Sophie's fate was just the result of the very high child mortality of the 19th century).

More under the cut!

Giving birth to an heir, as it happened with consorts, should have secured Elisabeth's position at court. However, Archduchess Sophie took control of the children's nursery and decided on their education, something that Sisi would always resent. But also during these first years of marriage the young empress was very often sick, once to the point that they actually feared for her life. Giving that her illness disappeared once she was out of Vienna and away from her husband it seems likely that it was her mental illness phyisically manifesting what made her sick in the first place (there's also the possibility that Franz Josef passed her syphilis during this time although I haven't seen an agreement on this point).

During the 1860s a couple of thing happened that ended up creating the Empress Elisabeth as we know her today. After a two years long absence, having left to Madeira and Corfu to recover her health, she returned to Court feeling more confident that she had before. She had been an absent figure in her children's life so far. Her son Rudolf was brought up closely with his older sister Gisela until he turned six and it was decided that his formal education as the heir to the throne would begin. Rudolf was a very sensitive child, a lot like his mother, so a military education was thrust upon him and his tutor was charged with the job of "toughening him up".

Rudolf's "training" was literal child abuse, there's no other way to call it: he was physically and phycologically tortured by his tutor for a whole year to the point that he collapsed. The official version was that he had diphtheria but as Greg King and Penny Wilson point out in their book about Mayerling, it seems likely that he actually had a nervous breakdown (at only six!!!). Rudolf's horrible abuse was the last drop for Elisabeth and what made her decide, for the first time, to take control of her life and her children's. In 1865 she gave her husband an ultimatum:

"It must either be Gondrecourt [Rudolf's tutor] or myself.… It is my wish that I alone should have full and unlimited power in all matters concerning the children, the choice of those who surround them and their place of residence, and complete control of their upbringing. In short, I must alone decide everything concerning them until their majorities."

Franz Josef agreed and gave Elisabeth control on the education of their children. The tutor was fired and a new one, chosen by her, was put in charge of the traumatized Rudolf, whom he described looking like a "whipped dog" when he assumed his job. The new tutor had liberal ideas and was kind to the boy, and ended up becoming friends with the Crown Prince for the rest of his life.

After this there was no going back to the passive role she had been occupying before. For the first and only time in her life, she became involved in politics. So far she had been fairly apolitical (unless we count as a political act the time she tried, unsuccessfully, to convince Franz Josef to send support to Naples to rescue her sister Queen Marie), but thanks to her lady-in-waiting and close friend Ida Ferenczy she came into contact with Count Gyula Andrássy, an ex-Hungarian rebel and one of the leading men in trying to make a compromise between Austria and Hungary. There's a lot to unpack here, but basically Elisabeth, who had always favored Hungary, actively worked on making the Compromise happen, and in 1867 she succeded, and the dual monarchy was created.

Most of the iconic images of her come from these years: for example the stunning Winterhalter portrait, in which she looks more like a fairy-tale character than an Empress in an official portrait, was painted around 1865. After being considered plain and unattractive for several years, she slowly became a renowned beauty. For a long time, her looks were the only thing she could control, so she thrust all her energy in beauty treatments and exercise (to an unhealth point, may I add). She built herself as an enigmatic beauty, and after her political triumph in Hungary she achived the personal triumph she had always longed: that is, to have a child she could raise on her own, her daughter Marie Valerie, born in 1868. After that, she stopped sharing a bedroom with her husband, and started to travel around Europe with her child.

I already mentioned it before but Elisabeth never seemed to have been interested in fullfilling the traditional role of a wife. It is often pointed how she much preferred to spent time with her siblings at her childhood home than with her husband and children at Vienna. This is speculation on my part, but I think that she always resented had been forced to grow up so soon in order to get married. She once said to her daughter Marie Valerie that "Marriage is a nonsensical institution. One is sold as a child of fifteen and takes an oath one does not understand but can never undo". It's not really surprising that once she earned the confidence to take control of her life she practically abandoned her role as an empress and wife.

So, in short, definetly there were a lot of changes in her character during these years, and they all were strongly linked to her married life.

[hardynwa]

Season of kidnapping

There is palpable fear in the land. This is not a time to embark on journeys anyhow. It appears kidnappers have been let loose. From the North to the South, the story is the same. The West and the East are not spared. The fear of kidnappers has become the beginning of wisdom. The menace keeps getting closer by the day. Clergymen are victims. Traditional rulers are under siege. Farmers are not safe. Travellers are at the mercy of criminals. Those at home also cannot sleep with two eyes closed. At the church where I worshipped on Sunday, two worshippers shared details of how they narrowly escaped these armed men during the testimony section of the service. We all listened with fear to how these persons passed through the valley of the shadow of death. We could relate because the road they talked about is a road we ply daily, the notorious Lagos-Ibadan Expressway. The first testifier, as we call them in church circle, betrayed emotion and wept while recounting his ordeal. He searched for a handkerchief in his pocket. When he could not find it, he resorted to using his palm to clean his teary eyes. According to him, he was in a commercial bus heading to Lagos from Ibadan, Oyo State capital. The journey was smooth up until they got to the Ogere end of the Lagos-Ibadan Expressway where they ran into the confusion created by gun-wielding hoodlums who had taken over the ever-busy highway in broad daylight. Yes, broad daylight because he left Ibadan around 3 pm. The journey from Ibadan to that spot cannot be up to two hours, all things being equal. According to him, he saw death personified. While occupants of the 18-seater bus he was travelling in were running out of the vehicle through the door and the windows amidst indiscriminate shooting by the armed men, he found it difficult to do the same on time probably due to his location inside the bus. The man ended up being the last person that came down from the bus. He could not explain how and why bullets did not hit him despite that the gunmen were shooting at close range. He also did not say how he was able to run far into the bush and fast enough to escape abduction. His case must be similar to that of Alara of Ara in the Ikole Local Government Area of Ekiti State, Oba Adebayo Fatoba, who narrated how he managed to escape from gunmen who attacked two of his colleagues last Monday. After giving details of how he “miraculously” escaped from the scene, the monarch was quick to add, “People who said that I disappeared, I want them to know that it is a lie. I ran to the security guards….” That clarification was indeed necessary. In the case of the man giving testimony in the church, by the time the confusion ended, according to him, no fewer than 50 persons were abducted by the gunmen, including at least five persons from the bus he was travelling with. Being an eyewitness, he faulted media reports of the attack which he said put the number of those kidnapped at five. The truth is that many cases of kidnapping across the country are either not reported or are underreported. This is not the fault of journalists, however. They are restricted to the information available to them. There are family members who will prefer to handle their issues as discreetly as possible in order not to put the lives of their loved ones in the kidnappers’ den in danger. Those will quietly raise and pay the ransom requested without involving security agencies that they cannot trust. You cannot blame them. I have had my share of the psychological torture people in distress can be subjected to by security agents they run to help. Some years back, my car was stolen in front of a bank in Abuja. I wanted to use the bank’s Automated Teller Machine. I was not away for long because the machine was out of service. By the time I returned to the spot where I parked the car less than five minutes later, I was searching for the car as if it was a needle that was missing. In that confused state, I was advised to rush to the Central Police Station located inside the Federal Secretariat. You can only imagine what was going through my mind when the policewoman who attended to me told me to buy airtime for the telephone that she would use to communicate to a department that would send a signal out to checkpoints with details of my car. When she saw the surprise and frustration on my face, she amended her presentation and gave me the option of using my telephone to send the details and she will subsequently use the same phone to talk to her colleagues on the other side. I settled for that option reluctantly. With that done, she came up with the idea of using a tracker when she saw in my statement that my iPad mini was inside the car. The idea sounded good at face value until I was directed to the unit in charge of tracking and I was told the bill. That car was not recovered till today. Many years later, I later discovered that the tracking is being done by private firms. The police pay for it too. I realised that last year when I was robbed on the Lagos-Ibadan Expressway, (yes, that road again) and my phone was stolen. I again reported at a nearby police station. I was there when the policemen were discussing with those who would do the tracking and they insisted on N50,000. For a long time, those tracking the phone kept saying it was inactive. Again, that chapter has closed. I went this route to show how extremely difficult it is to burst criminal activities in the country, hence, the decision of many to lick their wounds quietly when they are confronted with such a situation rather than relying on help that may not come. The question, however, is for how long will Nigerians continue to live at the mercy of these marauding criminals who are daily looking for prey? Nigerians are already fighting too many battles in the form of high costs of food, drugs and other essential items. Adding the fear of kidnappers, which appears to have become the beginning of wisdom, to the growing list will be too much for them to bear. Governments at all levels must therefore rise to their primary responsibility of protecting lives and property. That is the least expected of them. Read the full article

[bleulone]

Can we talk about about how Colin looked in ep 1 when he first saw Marina compared to how he looked when he saw Pen in ep 8. Almost the exact same look! Of course his look to Penelope is probably more about his guilt because he brushed her off when she tried to warn him but still..progress! Lol and then when he's getting ready to leave for Greece, he glanced towards Penelope's home. I think they're having Colin's feelings for her grow gradually in the show instead of all of a sudden like in the books.

Hey! Thank you for this insightful ask of yours :) Sorry for the late answer, I took a long time to write this— without further ado, here we go!

Indeed, Polin is first and foremost a story of gazes, those gazes being of many natures. Whether they are love ones, friendly ones, admirative ones or lustful ones, looking imposes itself to be a huge parameter in Penelope and Colin’s love story.

In order to understand that on screen, film-making has at its disposal a very rich and smart langage of its own. Sometimes, comparision helps to underlines the differences between one character’s relationship with person A mirorring person B. I feel like Shondaland and Chris Van Dussen wanted to introduce the audience to the evolution of our Bridgerton men’s perception of Love. For instance, while Anthony views attachement— to Siena— as a way to escape his responsibilities before becoming his villain (...until our queen ma’am Kate Sheffield comes to the picture), Benedict doesn’t comprehend this universal concept and prefers to enjoy the many physical pleasures life can offer. In other words, the older brothers already explored their sexuality here and there, making them the infamous rakes that they are. As for Colin, it’s a complete other thing.

Colin is young. Very young. At 21, he’s just left Eton College and barely knows anything of the world nor women. Like Anthony said in 1x06, Colin hasn’t been taken to brothels which is a very important step in the building of young men’s sentimental and sexual education during that time period. Since he missed this essential step, our sweet/immature boy has no clue about how to deal sagaciously with his feelings and his “foolish” impulses, baring his naivety. At this point of the story, we can easily come to the conclusion that Colin is a virgin who can’t drive XD. He’s just a child overcame by his passions, a hopelessly romantic who rushes things without taking the time to properly court or know his significant other. And his off-screen flirtation with those supposed numerous girls in London isn’t of any help to justify his (oh so little) experience. So when he sees Marina, he’s so struck by her... mainly by her alluring appearance. And he doesn’t seem to let his eyes nor mind go beyond her exquisite beauty.

In this perspective, the whole Colin/Marina storyline can be perceived as a parallelism to the Pen/Colin’s one. In 1x01, he is immediatley smitten with a dancing Miss Thompson, which happens to be ironically the same case with a 17 year-old Pen but with him. We got to see her, a few moments ago, dreamily looking at him from the back of the dancefloor (echoeing the episode where she fell madly in love with him after he fell off his horse at Hyde Park). She’s charmed by his dashing look and his kindness, yet she doesn’t seem to know anything else about him considering the rare conversations they share. Her burning gaze fits the original story from Julia Quinn’s books because in Romancing Mister Bridgerton, the 28 year-old spinster Penelope do realize later on that Colin is more than a good looking man : he’s a human who possesses a temper and flaws.

Either way, both of our boos are portrayed as hopelessly young people in love who childishly idealize the objects of their affection.

In 1x08, it’s the other way around. It’s Colin who sees Pen first, her who appears to wear the yellow dress’ lookalike from the pilot—what an interesting call back ^^. With his mouth slightly agape and his eyes wide open, we can catch sight of the timid spark of a change in his gaze : Colin Bridgerton notices Penelope Featherington. He‘s touched by the realization that she cares about him. It would be rather inappropriate of me to say that Colin is already in love with her. However, in the finale, I do believe that he’s more struck by her high level of deep care for him than her beauty.

We are thus able to spot two big differences in Colin’s relationship with women in this season : when his attraction to Marina was purely physical and rushed, his attraction with Penelope is more emotional and slow. And for now, he comes to cherish his special bond with her, especially after she tried to warn him of the dangerous trap he was about to fall into. Even if he just sees her as his younger sister’s best friend right now, Pen matters in his life. And it’s still a little yet important progress for sure.

Speaking of which, I agree with you that this look of awe as well as realization is mostly mixed up with guilt. Since he didn’t take into account her words, he felt the strong need to apologize. But bear in mind that guilt formulates a considerable part in Colin’s feelings for Pen... and it’s only the very beginning. In the future, he’ll blame himself for not seeing her as the beautiful goddess and siren that she is in the first place. He’ll blame himself for not reciprocating the feelings for her.... Though at the moment, due to his lack of experience with women, Colin is oblivious to Pen’s obvious signs of sorrow when he told her he’s leaving for Greece/Cyprus. Next time, he’ll detect her sadness and won’t let her go, I’m sure of it (if he doesn’t I’ll riot).

Furthermore, I’m so glad you brought up the scene where Colin glances at the Featherington house. I had the same thought as well. When you put this still and the one where Pen is crying while looking at her window side by side, it even seems like they’re looking at each other. In a way, it implicitly confirms Pen’s key role in his final decision... After all, she’s the one who inadvertently inspired him right ?

The act of traveling has always been seen as cathartic since leaving home to discover yourself allows you to heal your broken heart and soul. It’s natural for Colin to do this. To make his first real steps into the world. His choice is quite relatable more than it is essential for his arc in the series. I can’t wait for him to come back all changed, hot ^^ and mature. I think, like you said, they are planning on making him progressively falling in love with her. Colin’s feelings will gradually leave the platonic zone to explore and officially stay in the intimate zone throughout the seasons.

Overall, the Colin/Marina and Colin/Penelope parallel in s1 mostly helps viewers to compare the way Colin evolves from being a stubborn naive boy to a heartbroken young man who’s aware of his crutial need for Experience. His coming of age, just like Pen’s, has just begun. And they will surely lead to our boy changing himself into the true charming rake that he’s meant to be and our girl into a more confident woman. Consequently, I think their story won’t take 10 years but rather at the very least 5 years perhaps to fit the TV timeline. Once Polin will finally be able to discuss, we’ll hopefully get to see more interesting nuances and shades added to the portrait they painted of one another over the years. They’re indispensable to the slow build up of their emotions/attraction as well as the shattering of their childish idealization/perception of each other.

All in all, I’m so loving the fact that season 1 beautifully sets up the importance of the gaze in Polin’s love story. This first installment is like an expository scene of a play. It leaves a trail of clues and pieces of information here and there at the reach every viewers who can pick them up and analyze what can be the main themes which will determine one character’s story arc/romance. With Polin we have : admiration, wit, love and friendship, desillusionment. (I know they are more but it’s all I can think of rn lol).

If we’re already emotional messes just with the mere power of them looking at each other, imagine when they’ll actually talk and share real conversations. It’s going to be a long way to canon but luv me some good fluffy angsty steamy slow burn :) ✨ I hope this long of mine answers your ask ahah, even if I talked about many things other than just Polin’s looks. Also, sorry if you spot some grammatical mistakes, English is not my first language.

[kenjikutie]

summary: you and kageyama had made many promises to one another, but, perhaps the king doesn’t need a princess after all word count: 2k warnings: none! just a lot of angst pairing: kageyama tobio x fem!reader

you would always remember your first day of middle school. that was the day that you decided your older brother would forever be the bane of your existence. not only had he left you at home without waking you up but, he had also begun his walk without you, leaving you to navigate your way through the bustling streets of japan

with every step you took, you swore that your lungs were about to give out. you still had no idea how tooru did this every day and stayed after school for volleyball practice. maybe you could put shaving cream in his pillow or hide his sports sneakers as revenge for leaving you all alone, but, he had gotten you the coveted manager position for his team, so, that was something he could hold over your head for months to come

so lost in your thoughts of revenge, you didn’t notice that you had slowed down to a nearly crawling speed, causing the person behind you to knock right into your back, sending you flying to the concrete, papers and books scattering all around, getting trampled by the passerby

“i- i’m sorry!”, a small voice cried out, reaching down to lift you off of the ground and awkwardly dust off your shoulder

you giggled and ran a hand through your hair, holding up your hands, “no, it’s okay! i promise.”

judging by his uniform, he was also a first year in middle school and you were certain you had never seen someone look so nervous. maybe he was lost like you were. there was a pale blush on his face, one which only grew deeper when you walked up to him, curiously leaning inward

“what’s your name?”, you hadn’t even noticed how close the two of you were 

you had always been a bubbly person, just like your elder brother. personal space had never been a phrase in your vocabulary and it had been fine that way in elementary school, but you supposed it was time for you to mature a little bit. after all, curiosity did kill the cat

backing up, you held out your hand for him to shake, “i’m oikawa y/n! im a first year, too!”

still, the boy said nothing, clearly too frazzled to open his mouth. with a soft laugh, you picked up the books and papers you had dropped, not minding that he didn’t help. when you came back up from the ground, you noticed that he hadn’t moved at all

taking his hand in yours, you began to run in the direction of your middle school, ignoring his surprised gasp and quiet protests. eventually, he relaxed in your grip and ran beside you, instead of letting you drag him around like a ragdoll

quietly, kageyama snuck a glance at your face, feeling the godforsaken blush from earlier creep it’s way back up his neck. you had to have been the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his short lifespan. no, scratch that- you were the prettiest girl anyone could ever see-

he was almost sad when the two of you reached the gate of kitagawa first. your hand quickly untangled itself from his and you turned to him with a wide grin. kageyama swore his heart had never beaten so fast

“i’ll see you later! thanks for running with me.”, before you could turn around, he clutched onto your jacket, effectively stopping you

“k-kageyama tobio.”, he let out a shaky sigh, “that’s my name.”

after that encounter, you became what kageyama tobio would consider to be his closest friend. each day, there would be a pouch of yogurt or a carton of strawberry milk sitting on your desk, a desk specifically chosen by you due to it’s location-right behind kageyama’s head-

you loved to annoy him during class by poking him with your pencil or slipping notes into the hood of his jacket for him to find later. kageyama would never tell you that he kept them all in a small box on his dresser

during his first year, kageyama knew that you were the only reason he stayed on the volleyball team. anytime your brother teased him, you were jumping on his case, pulling his hair and whining for him to not bully your best friend. oikawa would just ruffle your hair and begin to tease you about having a little crush

kageyama didn’t like that. he didn’t like the idea of you having feelings or even a close friendship wth someone that wasn’t him. you were the only person he felt he could go to when he was overwhelmed, the only that would lay with him and watch clouds on the weekends and the only one who would stay in the gym with him until the late hours of the night to toss volleyballs

“hey, yn? you’re still gonna be my best friend in high school, right?”, kageyama had asked as the two of you sat on the gym steps, quietly sipping from your waterbottles

you quirked a brow, wondering where that question had come from, “of course i am, tobio! do you really think i would leave you all alone?”

kageyama went quiet and you worried that you had said something wrong. without thinking, you reached over and grabbed his hand, feeling him tense under your hold. you could have sworn that his cheeks turned bright red as soon as your fingers grazed one another

so, you sat there underneath the moonlight, feeling your heart begin to beat a little bit faster when your best friend intertwined his fingers with yours, slightly squeezing

but, that connection all changed one quiet, fall day in third year. that was the first time a pouch of yogurt didn’t show up on your desk. you had matured a lot since the first day you met kageyama. you weren’t as curious as before and certainly not as naive

you knew that kageyama and you had lost touch and that things weren’t the same as before. after you quit managing for the volleyball team, late night meetings stopped and hanging out together for lunch was pushed aside for extra practice. it was beginning to drive you crazy

to fill the void left by kageyama, you started to hang out more with the other third years, such as kunimi and kindaichi. but after a while, kunimi began to see the lost look in your eyes whenever you glanced towards kageyama’s locker, only to find him missing

but, the lazy boy didn’t have the heart to tell you what had happened to your old best friend. he couldn’t let you know how kageyama screamed at them, how he slammed balls on the court out of frustration, how he had become the king

kunimi knew it was only a matter of time until you found out, though. you had always been smarter than anyone he knew. so, it didn’t surprise him when you arrived at their final game of the season, cheeks painted in their school colors and your old manager jacket on your shoulders

standing at the top of the bleachers, you admired the way kageyama looked in his uniform. he was more mature now from the looks of him but you could tell he still drank his milk and yogurt cartons before every game, judging from the amount of them in the trash can

your heart nearly lept out of your chest when he turned to look up at you, your eyes connecting with his blue ones. you weren’t sure what kageyama was thinking about or if he was even happy to see you there but you were sure his eyes widened just a little bit

after about an hour, the game was in full force and you had been exposed to a side of kageyama you had never seen before. your heart beat faster form the crazed, furious look in his eyes anytime he glanced at his teammates and you couldn’t help but wonder what happened to the boy who was lost on your first day of school

but, the worst was yet to come. when kageyama reaches backward for a set, preparing to score the final point, no one came to receive it. the entire arena was silent, as if everyone was afraid to move and you saw kageyama crack like marble

the game ended after that with a final loss for kitagawa first. you exchanged glances with kunimi, noting the lack of expression in his eyes. you assumed that putting kageyama in his place was enough for him to feel satisfied with how their final season ended

kageyama shoved past his teammates, knocking their shoulders so hard you thought they might fall over. quickly gathering your things, you sprinted down the stairs of the bleachers and towards where you had seen him leave

you skid to a stop when you saw his back, frozen where he stood, fists clenched so tightly he may burst blood vessels. your eyes softened at how tense his shoulders were and you so badly wanted to reach out and help him, but that wasn’t your place anymore

as you took one step forward, kageyama turned to face you, a glaring look in his eyes that made you shiver, “what the hell are you doing here?”

the phrase was a snarl

“i...i wanted to check on you, because-“

“because you feel sorry for me? i don’t need your pity and i don’t want it either!”

running a hand through your hair, you shook your head and glanced up at him, “i don’t pity you. i just wanted to help you...”

kageyama rolled his eyes and chucked the volleyball in his hand at the wall, not even flinching as the sound echoed through the hall. you, however, jolted at the action and took a step back

“what happened to you?”, your voice was barely a whisper

his eyes flared as he turned to face you, “what happened to me? are you serious? what about you, huh? quitting the manager job even though you loved it! you changed everything about who you are!”

you were starting to get angrier; you could feel it in your gut, “i grew up, kageyama! maybe you should try it and stop acting like an arrogant brat!”

kageyama nearly pouted when he heard you call him by his surname. you hadn’t used it for the whole time he knew you. maybe he really had messed everything up this time, but it was too late for apologies now

“i don’t need to explain anything to you! i never even cared about you in the first place! you were always annoying. clinging to my sleeve like some child.”

your eyes were beginning to fill with tears and kageyama felt like he had been punched in the gut when a few rolled down your cheeks. stop it, he told himself. you’re screwing it all up! don’t lost her like this! but he wouldn’t listen, not even to himself

wiping at your eyes with your sleeve, you sniffled then flares up at the boy you used to call your favorite person in the world

“you know what? you’re the king now, great job! you’re the greatest player on the team. but, you’re also the worst human being i’ve met! you care abut no one but yourself and only think about your own future, disregarding everyone else who tries to help you!”

kageyama had never seen you this angry and it terrified him. perhaps, some part of him always thought you would come back to him, sit with him on the gym steps again and count the stars in the sky as he rested his head on your shoulder but that was all gone now

“so im done, kageyama. stay away from me, got it?”

as soon as you turned around, he reached out for you, pulling his arm back as soon as it left his side. why had it had to happen like this? why was he so selfish? if only he had accepted your help, then he still would have had you by his side

maybe he would get another chance one day. if the world allowed him, he would reincarnate as someone who could love you the way you deserved. someone who didn’t push you away, and just maybe... you could love one another again

“hi, im kageyama tobio. it’s nice to meet you.”

“im oikawa yn! it’s nice to meet you too!”

[drprettyboyspence]

Beach Day

Dr. Spencer Reid/reader 

Summary: Spencer Reid doesn’t understand the appeal of going to the beach so when Garcia plans a BAU outing, he honestly debates whether or not he should go. Turns out, when Y/n is at the beach, Spencer totally understands the appeal after all. 

words: 2.8k 

warnings: seriously none to my knowledge! a lot of fluff :) 

a/n: Since its getting so warm out where I live and I’ve recently been watching season 8 (where Spencer says he doesn’t like the beach), I imagined what it would be like if Spencer went to the beach with his coworker who he has a crush on, I hope you enjoy! :) 

“Come on pretty boy! We’re gonna be late and you know what we’re in for if we keep my babygirl waiting.” Derek Morgan playfully yells at Spencer Reid. It’s ten past 12 p.m. on a hot and sunny August day in Virginia, and the two boys are late for a carpool with the one and only Penelope Garcia. 

“Morgan, why can’t you just go without me, no one will miss me anyway and I hate the beach.” Spencer replies in a frustrated manner. Garcia had been planning this for weeks, after the team had come back from an especially long case she thought what everyone needed was some good old day-at-the-beach fun. Through Spencer’s eyes however, you can’t exactly call an overcrowded area filled with unhygienic birds, sweaty, sunburned people, and sand that covers every inch of your belongings fun. 

“Reid, what’s wrong with the beach? Just bring a book if you really want to, but we really have to get going man.” Derek asks, automatically regretting it when Spencer replies, 

“Sandy food, pink skin, limited and unengaging topography, but mostly the drug-resistant bacteria spread by sea gull feces.” Spencer replies with a straight face, completely unaware that most people aren’t worried about the spread of sea gull poop or anything like that. 

“Alright, kid, I’ll give ya that I guess. Fine, I’ll go without you, but I know one FBI agent in particular who’s gonna be awfully disappointed when you don’t show.” Derek says slyly, sure his evil plan will work. Spencer looks up from his bookshelf where he’s organizing his collection of 15th century literature from his mom, a slight blush forming on his cheeks. 

“Y/n?, Morgan she won’t care if I don’t come to the beach today. Number one, why would she care about me? Number two, who wants to see me at the beach, my body isn’t exactly my most desirable trait.” Derek’s teasing face softens significantly, realizing the more real root of Spencer’s aversion to the beach. 

“Alright kid, you have no reason to be insecure, I’ve heard chirps from a little birdie named Penelope Garcia that our very own Y/n has quite a big crush on you. It doesn’t matter if you have a six pack or not Reid, you have the sweetest heart of anyone I know and the biggest brain as well obviously, I don’t call you pretty boy as a joke, why wouldn’t Y/n like you? Come on, it’ll be fun, I promise.” Spencer feels awkward, not knowing how to react to Derek “lady’s man” Morgan’s motivational speech, he doesn't want to get his hopes up. To be honest, Spencer has liked Y/n since she joined the bureau almost a year ago now, she’s smart, honest, brave, and the most beautiful girl in the world in Spencer’s opinion.

“But Morgan, I don’t own shorts, I don’t have anything I can wear to the beach.” 

“Well lucky for you kid I sorta assumed that, so I brought you a bathing suit, now can we PLEASE get out of here, I’m really not trying to be Penelope’s personal slave for the next 6 months.” Spencer reluctantly takes the bathing suit into the next room and puts it on, hating the way his skinny limbs look in shorts and an FBI tee-shirt, feeling as if he looks like a pre-pubescent boy. Even so, his desire to  spend the day with Y/n persuades him to anxiously pack his bag with a few books he’ll surely need before following Derek out the door. They make it down the stairs and out the door of Reid’s apartment building before they’re greeted by the dulcet tones of Garcia yelling at them through the open window of her car.

“Derek Morgan! You are very lucky you are so handsome and delicious, I’ve been waiting here almost twenty minutes! I almost had to hack the parking ticket database to make sure I wouldn’t be charged, now get in! This is going to be the best day ever!”

“Sorry babygirl” Derek says, getting into the car and pulling Garcia into a greeting hug, “the kid here was feeling anxious, but I told him his little girlfriend would be devastated if he chose not to show up, so lover boy pulled through.” Spencer scoffs and Garcia squeals in joy, loving the idea of the two babies of the team falling in love.

The three of them get out of the car at the beach and Spencer automatically puts his sunglasses on, the sun beating down on him harshly, high in the sky and nearly at its peak of strength for the day.

“Well well well, it’s about time you three! We were expecting you to be no-shows!” Rossi teases from the spot on the beach the team has chosen. Spencer awkwardly tries to walk across the lumps of sand, the grains sinking through the holes in the sides of his signature converse sneakers, already regretting his decision to come here, like he says, he really hates the beach. 

“Spence, you made it! I have to say I’m surprised, how are those sneakers working out for you?” JJ says in a teasing manner as well, knowing that when it comes to the beach, Spencer is one of the least prepared people she knows. 

“Hi Spence, I’m glad you’re here.” Spencer hears from behind him, the shy voice of Y/n automatically brightening his mood. 

“Y/n, I’m glad to be here.” He replies, the rest of the team looking at each other in bewilderment, not believing the sentence having just come out of Spencer’s mouth. Emily and Rossi had brought extra chairs so Spencer sits down and pulls out a book on understanding the theorems of quantum physics, having not read it since he was a teenager. He looks up from reading when he hears the familiar laughing and sounds of his two favorite kids, Jack running up from the ocean with Henry following closely behind, always looking up to his older friend. 

“Hi Jack! Hi Henry! How’s it going guys!” Y/n says, causing Spencer to blush as he briefly imagines Y/n with kids of her own, their own, woah Spencer calm down, don’t go there, quantum physics, focus. 

“Y/n! Will you come swim with us, please! please! please!” Jack says, the boys love Y/n because during the times the team hangs out, she can’t say no to them. 

“Spencer, swim? please?” Henry says, walking over to Spencer and grabbing his hand, cold from being in the ocean. Spencer’s heart warms at the sight of his godson and he finds himself saying yes, not realizing the implications, he now has to take his shirt off and swim with Y/n, what has he done?  

“Really, Spence? You’ll come swim with us! Yay!” Y/n responds, seeming so genuinely excited that Spencer finds himself getting less nervous. He hesitantly peels his shirt off, feeling surprisingly relieved to be rid of the sweaty fabric. He glances at Derek who is smiling at him, raising his eyebrows as if to say You got this player. Jack and Henry are getting impatient so Y/n takes her dress off leaving her in a bikini. Spencer automatically feels very awkward, averting his eyes to avoid blatantly staring at her, overwhelmed with how gorgeous she is, she’s truly the most beautiful girl in the world. 

“Uh, s-should we g-go?” He asks, the rest of the team giggling at his obvious nerves. He remembers once Emily told him his IQ turns to 60 when he sees a pretty girl, maybe she was right because he feels, in this moment, he wouldn’t be able to read a single word of text. Y/n nods and they walk off with the two boys towards the ocean, Spencer hearing the remnants of the rest of the team surely gossiping about the clear tension between them. They reach the ocean and Henry and Jack run into the waves, splashing and tackling each other, getting water on both adults. Spencer shivers despite the hot sun still beating down on his now bare shoulders and back, trying not to think about his chances of developing skin cancer which are surely growing exponentially each moment he stays out in this sun. 

“You cold Spence?” Y/n giggles, grabbing his hand and pulling him further into the water, his legs following even though the idea of being submerged in the cold water is not appealing whatsoever. Or maybe cold water would be better if Y/n doesn’t let go of your hand soon, the devilish side of Spencer’s subconscious whispers. 

“Yes a little, water temperatures around the Washington D.C. area in August average in the low 80s, but I suppose the contrast between the 95 degree day to the cold water causes me to feel cold, funny how that works isn’t it?” Spencer replies, always trying to be more conversational, especially around Y/n, therefore less statistics. 

“Yes Spence, now come on, it’ll be less cold if you just jump in.” Y/n says warmly, always finding Spencer’s statistics charming and adorable. 

“No Y/n I don’t think that’s a- ah!” Spencer yelps as Y/n whispers something to Henry and Jack, causing them to splash him simultaneously, very quickly drenching him completely. Spencer can’t find it in himself to be mad, hearing Y/n hysterically laughing and high-fiving the boys in joy. 

“Alright Y/n, you asked for it.” Spencer says, starting to laugh too despite himself. He somehow finds the courage to pick Y/n up bridal style and walk deeper into the ocean, dropping her in. She’s under the water for just a moment before Spencer begins to worry, statistics of drowning automatically filling his brain. He feels a tug on his leg and falls into the water himself. Y/n and Spencer now both in the water up to their necks, they look at each other and laugh awkwardly. All of a sudden realizing how close they’ve become, they both look away and focus their attention on the two boys still playing in the water, making sure they don’t get too far away. 

“Can we play chicken? Please!” Jack says and Spencer looks at him with a confused look on his face. 

“Chicken?” 

“Come on Spence, this will be so fun!” Y/n says excitedly and once again grabs Spencer’s hand, pulling him toward the boys. Y/n kneels down in the water and motions for Spencer to do so as well, he follows, still confused as to what is about to happen. Henry climbs on Y/n’s back and Jack on Spencer. 

“Okay, now what?” Spencer says, laughing at what the team must be seeing up on the beach. 

“Now, we fight!” Jack says from Spencer’s shoulders. 

Y/n and Spencer walk further into the ocean to more safely allow Henry and Jack to play. They hit each other and Spencer and Y/n find themselves suddenly chest to chest, Spencer trying everything to distract himself from his attraction to the woman in front of him. Finally Henry and Jack seem to get tired, asking if they can go back to their parents. 

“U-uh, so that was f-fun!” Spencer says, trying to break the awkward tension that had followed him and Y/n since they had gotten so close in the water. Chicken, who knew? 

“Yes it was Spence, thank you for coming in the water, I know you don’t like the beach that much.” Y/n says softly, smiling up at the taller man.

They make their way back up to the team, ignoring the knowing looks on their faces. Spencer sits down in his chair once again, suddenly noticing his stomach rumbling. 

“Spencer, do you want to share this peanut butter and jelly sandwich?” Y/n offers. Spencer laughs, how did she know he was hungry at the exact moment he realized it too? He nods and she scoots closer to him to hand him the half. They joke with the rest of the team as well as the boys, trying to separate themselves from the horror they usually find themselves facing together. Spencer knows there is no science to the old phrase time flies when you’re having fun, but he thinks today might be an exception, soon it's getting late, JJ and Hotch opting to take their tired boys home, exhausted from the day in the sun. 

“Spencer, before we leave, can you come with me to get an ice cream?” Y/n asks shyly, Spencer quickly agreeing before the anxiety of being alone with her can hit him once again. They sit together facing the setting sun while eating ice cream, Spencer knows he doesn't react the best to dairy but he can’t help it, he loves dairy, and honestly, he thinks he might love Y/n as well which is a terrifying thought. They sit and watch the sunset in relative silence, but it isn’t an awkward silence, it’s comfortable, Spencer wishes this moment would last forever. Too soon the sun dips below the horizon and their ice cream is long gone. 

“Okay love birds time to go, it’s getting really dark and we should be getting home.” They hear from behind them, both of them flushing in the night air at the nickname and teasing done by Derek. 

“Thanks for today Y/n, it was fun, see you at work on Monday.” Spencer says before following Derek and Penelope to the car, Y/n waving back before following Rossi, having car pooled with him and Emily. The drive home is silent on Spencer’s part, mostly spent looking out the window and ignoring the constant prying from his two nosy friends in the front, eager to know what happened between him and Y/n during the day at the beach. Garcia then drops Derek off at Spencer’s apartment as Derek lives closer to Spencer. 

“Goodnight kid, I hope you had fun today.” Derek says before turning in the direction of his own home. 

“Hey Morgan?” Spencer says quietly, so quietly Derek almost misses it, but turns around nonetheless. 

“Ya kid?” He replies. 

“Thank you for convincing me to go, it was really fun.” 

“No problem pretty boy, anytime” Derek replies smirking before watching Spencer walk into his apartment building. 

That night Spencer is lying in bed in severe pain, his fair skin blistering from the day in the hot sun. He knows he shouldn’t have been so stupid and reckless, allowing himself to become this burned. He was honestly having too much fun to stop and think about it. His phone buzzes and he grimaces, already expecting the worst, a new case, but instead, he sees a text from Y/n. 

“Hey, Spence, are you still awake?” Spencer begins to text back but before he can he sees an incoming call. 

“Uh, hi Y/n! Is everything okay? It’s pretty late do you need-”

“Spencer, I’m fine! Don’t worry, I’m sorry I’m calling you so late. How are you?” Spencer relaxes into the pillows on his bed when he hears Y/n say she’s okay. 

“Aside from the sure to cause skin-cancer, painful sunburn covering my back in blisters, I’m doing great! How about you? Is there something you need or do you just want to talk?” 

“Ouch that must hurt, you should have put sunblock on silly! I actually wanted to ask you something and I figured now is as good a time as ever. So um, Spence, I had a really good time today, and uh- I totally understand if you don’t want to, but would you want to go to dinner with me sometime soon?” Y/n’s heart is racing out of her chest as she anxiously waits for Spencer to answer. 

“Like a date?” 

“Yes- I mean not necessarily it doesn't have to be, we don’t actually have to go out at all if you don't-”

“Y/n, I would love to go out on a date with you.” 

“Really? T-that’s great! Okay I should probably let you get to sleep now, I’m sorry again for calling so late. Goodnight Spencer.” 

“Goodnight Y/n, see you Monday, can’t wait.” Spencer says before Y/n hangs up the phone, he finds himself missing her voice already. He looks at the clock, seeing its already nearly one am, now understanding Y/n’s multiple apologies for the late call. Spencer turns off the light next to his bed, noticing his sunburn doesn’t feel so bad now, ah, the psychology of love. Maybe, Spencer thinks before he closes his eyes, with Y/n by his side, a day at the beach doesn’t sound so bad.