#i’m in the middle of making a new blog in case this doesn’t fix!!

[unpopularly-opinionated]

I’ve been watching How to Get Away With Murder lately and let me just say I’ve had several topics that this fucking show has made me want to blog about that I just don’t wanna spam y’all with so let me bullet point this for you:

Warning: Long AF post about complete nonsense.

1. I never finished Scandal (another series by Shonda Rhimes) but I sure did watch a shit ton of it and I used to genuinely think it was a great show at the time. Haven’t seen it in a while so I’m not sure how exactly I’d feel now, but if watching HTGAWM has shown me anything it’s that god does this woman suck at writing characters. She’s pretty good at writing serialized legal/political dramas, I’ll give her that, but she legitimately only has like maybe 4-5 character archetypes that she just copied and pasted from Scandal onto this show, and boy do the flaws show in this series.

You’ve got the strong, black female lead whose job it is to basically fix problems, ethically or unethically, she pretends to care but doesn’t really.

You’ve got the sociopathic do-it-all guy who does all the unethical dirty work including breaking and entering, kidnapping, killing, destroying evidence, planting evidence, etc. with a troubled past of being in prison.

You’ve got the incredibly basic girl who starts off all shy and cute like she’s an innocent little sunflower, who then falls in love with the sociopathic do-it-all guy which inevitably leads her down a similar road of corruption.

You’ve even got the soft-spoken, ‘dreamy’ white man that the lead has the hots for (as well as the mentally-damaged white girl).

There’s probably more, but honestly that’s all I can remember from Scandal at this point. It’s actually kind of insane to me how it’s literally just the same exact characters just transplanted to a different plot. I don’t know much about her personally, but she strikes me as someone who would probably make bank writing romance novels or Y/N fanfic.

2. Binge watching shows has ruined pacing of older shows, such as HTGAWM, because without that weeklong break in the middle (sometimes longer for holidays) you overlook details because you don’t have time to process them properly, and oftentimes plot points that require time passing (such as relationships, breakups, etc.) can fail completely because it’s not really believable when a couple is together one episode, breaks up to be w/ someone else the next, says “I love you” the next, and is pregnant in the next (yes, this is something that actually happened in HTGAWM).

3. Just in general, the writing for this show really begins to plummet after just S1, but mostly S2. I’ll give them credit where credit is due, a lot of shows that begin with this ‘hook’-like idea--in this case murder and how to get away with it--tend to fail miserably by wrapping up that initial hook in the first season and then winging it every season after that. This show surprisingly doesn’t do that, and every season begins with a new murder that they then have to “get away with” (almost comically-so).

But as I said, this woman doesn’t seem to know how to write characters, at least not likeable or consistent ones. It sometimes feels like I’m watching reality TV or something because a lot of the conflict between characters is incredibly forced. I’m halfway through S4 and despite the fact that these people love to profess how much they love each other, they’re a family, etc. in nearly every episode you’ve got someone “not trusting” someone else, someone keeping secrets “just because”, or someone yelling at someone else for something because it’s “all their fault” when like none of that is ever actually true.

Oliver and Conner broke up because Oliver felt like the relationship wasn’t healthy because, even after he lied to Conner about something really fucking important, Conner instantly forgave him, which yeah sure that absolutely sucks and is a totally valid reason to break up with someone, albeit a sad one because obviously you two still love each other...except in the next fucking episode, Conner is hooking up w/ strangers and Oliver is genuinely considering jumping into another relationship, and also Oliver is changing his story and claiming the reason he broke up w/ Conner was actually Conner’s fault because of like trust issues or something which just isn’t true at all?? It was a wild retcon that came out of nowhere for no other reason other than I guess she needed them to sleep w/ other people that season.

Also I’m sorry but how is Michaela supposed to be even a remotely redeemable character when she’s written to be this huge uptight, racist, homophobic (or possibly biphobic), bitch? I don’t think she ever gets better. Right from the get go in S1, she has this whole ordeal over her fiancé having had one gay experience many years ago when he was younger, and like okay I would understand it if it was just about the fact that he didn’t tell her about it, but she continued to spiral out over it, accusing any man even in the vicinity of him as being his secret lover, and continues to badmouth him as “gay” (I can’t write tone here, but she says it in a very accusing way) to the others including Conner who is literally gay. There’s also never really a refutation to this either, so by the time Aiden is completely out of the picture, I guess we’re left to just assume he is actually gay, despite all possible evidence pointing to the contrary. But I guess all of this is A-OK because she becomes GBFs w/ Conner later for...some reason, I guess.

Then there’s the way she treats Asher which, in the beginning I was like okay fair, he’s the douchey frat boy character. Totally understandable why you’d treat him like an asshole. But when they hook up and eventually get together, she is so unbelievably racist towards him??? She’s constantly going on about “white boy” this and “white people” that, and the poor dude just takes it because he’s super whipped.

The way she also talks about other black people is even off, like if she wasn’t black (and Shonda Rhimes wasn’t black) I would daresay it comes across as fetishistic. In fact, a lot of this show is written like fetish porn of black people. God help if this was written by a white woman which ironically enough, it really does feel like this was written by a white woman. I’m not even joking, if I didn’t already know who Shonda Rhimes was, I would swear to you this show was written by a white woman who really loves black people, to an uncomfortable degree. I’m not even talking about cringy “black empowerment” either, that’s not what bothers me. It’s one thing to promote strong black (female) characters in a show which you know it’s fine I guess, whatever, but this show fetishizes that instead. Black people aren’t just strong and powerful, they’re the strongest and the most powerful. It’s creepy and weird.

At this point, the only reason I’m watching it is because I like Viola Davis and despite her character being iffy at times, she’s still a tremendous actress. And ofc I like Colliver, even though it’s messy a lot of the time. I know I just sat here and shat on the show a bunch, and to be clear it’s definitely not a show I would ever recommend, but it’s not strictly-speaking terrible. It just has a lot of bad moments/elements to it.

[miralstuff]

When does project runway start

When does project runway start plus#

It hasn’t been as bad as it could have been and I’m also based in Hawaii and generally I feel a lot more comfortable to be here -– it’s part of the culture and the respect is upheld. But I think, fortunately, the fashion industry is so welcoming of people who fall in very different points of this grey area in the LGBT community.

Project Runway Season 7: Episode 7: Slutty Strippe.The Huffington Post: What was it was like for you to come out as transgender in the fashion world after you had become a household name following season eight of “Project Runway”?Īri South: There were a lot of questions that I had to think about before I made the decision to make it public.

The Amazing Race 16- Episode 4-The Fix Is in in.

Project Runway-Season 7-Episode 8-Big Bowl o' Hair.

The Amazing Race 16-Episode 5-Dumb Luck Strikes.

Project Runway Season 7-Episode 9-Lost in a Concept.

The Amazing Race 16-Episode 6-Cathy Drone?.

Scenes from the Life of an Amateur Comic Book Coll.

Health Reform-But at What Cost to Obama?.

Second Time in Louisville and Presidential Lovers.

The Amazing Race 16-Episode 7-Case of the Missin.

Project Runway Season 7: Episode 10: Irish Girl Sp.

Ben did the former and Jonathan the latter.Īnd how many times did they mention Garnier? I should keep track of the product placements. You'll recall I spoke about this very topic in my blog last week and that the middle pack would have have to drop out or rise to the top. BTW, why does Ben always look like he's on his way to Rawhide (a leather bar for you non-New Yorkers) and do the contestants all get those cute little phone things? What's her name who cried all the time had one too.īen and Jonathan had a really interesting talk about being safe and staying in the middle. This would have tipped me off that Ben would have been on his way to the gallows because he was talking with his boyfriend, or husband since they got married, on that little keyboard-iphone doohickey-always the kiss of death. Seth Aaron's leather outfit was fierce, but what was the extra piece on her ass? Nina was really hard on Maya and that French guy seemed like he was a little too relaxed, maybe he was drunk and could have used some peanuts and pretzels from hair-bowl girl.Īfter the runway show, I caught up with the first half during the repeat.

When does project runway start plus#

Jonathan's laughter in the air dream was reminscent of his toilet paper in a windstorm, but this time it worked, plus Irish Carrie looked beautiful. Mila couldn't color-block the pain and got a tongue lashing from Nina. Jay's twister-sister look from the tornado ballet in The Wiz induced jaw-dropping stares from the judges, but he couldn't be eliminated. But I guess the judges are thinking out-of-box crazy shit beats out ho-hum bad stitching. Her work was far worse than Ben's shark suit. She screwed up last week too, so I don't know why she stayed. Why doesn't she throw in some chips and pretzels and make herself useful by serving them to the judges?"Īmy described her objective as "controlled chaos." Well, she got the second part right. The model turned the corner and I said "What the fuck is that? It looks like she's balancing a bowl of hair on her breasts. As a result, I was totally unprepared for Amy's horrifying big-bowl-of-hair. When I discovered it wasn't recording I thought, OK, I'll watch the runway show now and catch up with the repeat at 11:30. Parker and the Vicious Circle, I was looking forward to watching the show from the top. So when I came home at about 10:30PM after a hard night of reviewing plays like Jennifer Jason Leigh in Mrs. I thought my DVR was going to record this week's Project Runway from the beginning but for some reason it didn't.

[sagendipity]

reminder i'm sage i used to be notplanningshit until i accidentally deleted my blog so now im reposting my works!

info: quackity x reader, gn!reader, hurt/comfort, no warnings

on frizzy hair and the pursuit of perfection

Intellectually, in the rational side of your brain, you know that what you’re feeling is stupid.

You see the Instagram posts talking about the importance of self-affirmation and mental health. You see the tweets saying that people are more than their family’s perception of them. You realize that having a condescending and judgmental family is almost a right of passage for your generation.

These are all things you know, intellectually. But knowing something intellectually does jack shit for actually convincing your heart of whatever you know. You can yell at yourself all you want, but it’s clearly not your rational brain making you tear up at yet another text from your dad that was along the lines of “cool, could be better, though.”

You just want someone, just once, to celebrate an achievement with you. You want to be excited to share something with someone, without fear of them scoffing in the face of your pride and excitement. In your family- hell, in the world, certainly- someone has always done better, and you’re damn sure to be reminded of such.

It’s been years of this same behavior, ever since you can remember. It’s not just your dad, either, it’s your whole family- aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins. The whole town you grew up in had this haughty, arrogant air about it, where everyone was constantly competing, even if there was no reason for it. Take the hardest classes, get the least sleep, get the biggest scholarship. Even your friends would flex their better test scores at you, and refuse to help you with the homework, in case you somehow got a better score on a test than them. You know it’s how they were raised, they’re just a product of their environment and don’t know how bad it hurts, but it still stung then, and probably always will. You’re still in contact with a few of them, and it’s just more of the same whenever you exchange a handful of quick texts every couple months.

You know you should stop giving information about your achievements to them, but when your dad texts and asks how you are, there’s not much you can reply with other than “good, got a promotion at work!” From there, it’s a slippery slope of him asking what new benefits you got, and then the judgmental few moments where the gray dots disappear and reappear while he tries to compose his thoughts about your inadequacy in the least-abrasive way a middle-aged man can. That is to say, not un-abrasively at all. In fact, his words are often delivered with the finesse of low-grit sandpaper on soft wood.

Well, could be more. Work harder and maybe you’ll get an increase next month. I got a lot of bonuses at work when I was your age. All you have to do is take the bad shifts and get some good customer reviews. You’ll get there.

You stare at the fresh new message on your phone screen before clicking it off with a bone-deep sigh, your eyes betraying your rational side by, again, tearing up. You shove the heels of your hands into your eyes and rub until the tears are forced away and you see spots.

That’s how Alex finds you, sat on the foot of your shared bed with your hands rubbing fiercely at your eyes. He’s probably just come to grab a hoodie- the setting sun brings with it a cool breeze that washes through your open windows and cools the house from the warmth it’d gathered from the day’s sun.

“You good?” He asks, opening his closet door and pulling out a hoodie. He wrestles it on over his head as he waits for your response- when he pushes his head out the other end, hair mussed and static-y, you still haven’t answered. “Baby?”

He comes and sits down next to you. Your eyes, red-rimmed but still dry, track his movements before flicking to catalog every tuft of disheveled hair protruding from his head. With a superficial smile, you reach up to smooth his long, black locks back and down into place. It doesn’t matter; he’s going to slip on a beanie sooner or later, but for now, you distract yourself by combing gentle fingers through the soft strands.

“Not that I don’t appreciate this,” Alex murmurs, brown eyes searching your face for an answer to what has you upset. “But what’s wrong?”

“Just my dad,” you whisper, not trusting your voice not to crack. You avoid his gaze, keeping your eyes fixed stubbornly on his hair as you finish your work. “There. You looked like a hedgehog.”

He huffs a little laugh, but scoots closer to you and grabs a hand out of your lap- you’d curled your hands into tight fists, your nails digging little red crescents into your palm. He uncurls the hand he’s holding and reaches for the other, but you save him the work by instead grabbing onto your own thigh tightly, redirecting the frustration. He rubs small circles into the aching skin of your other palm while he waits for you to gather yourself and explain, now that the ice has been broken on the topic.

“He always acts like whatever I do is just not quite good enough for him. They all do- him, my mom, even my fucking friends.” You rub your free hand down your face, trying to alleviate some tension. It does not work. “I don’t know why I’m still upset. They’ve been doing it forever.”

“That’s probably why you’re still upset. You hope they’d grown up enough to stop doing that.” Alex presses his thumb into the center of your palm. It grounds you, and you swallow around the lump in your throat.

“It’s not even a matter of immaturity- it’s not as simple as a pissing contest. It’s just who they are. They don’t think perfection exists, but they want me to achieve it anyways.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. That sounds exhausting.”

He sounds so sincere, so genuine, like the idea of you being treated this way is deeply upsetting to him. You’d never really… experienced that. Someone recognizing your struggle, and admitting that it must fucking suck is something you’d never been graced with.

His brow is furrowed in a display of concern, eyes gentle and searching. He’s not lying, he means what he said, and he’s not going to follow it up with a “but-,”.

Eyes beginning to sting again, you lean forward until you’re resting your forehead on his shoulder. The soft fabric of his hoodie immediately calms you, along with the warmth you can feel emanating from him. It makes sense, after all, that the personification of pure sunshine would have such warmth about them.

Alex scoots forward, gathering you more closely in his arms, his legs awkwardly folded so that you can sit right in front of him. His hands come up to hold you, one fisting in the fabric of your sweatshirt, and the other resting on the back of your neck, gentle, but firm. You let out a shuddering breath, squeezing your eyes shut tightly. Not going to cry.

“I got a promotion at work,” you mutter, taking a long, deep breath. You brace yourself, waiting for a dismissive response. “That’s what set my dad off- I got- he-.”

Your voice cracks, and you trail off with a small sigh, clutching at Alex’s hoodie even tighter. It’s thick and soft under your fingers, and you knead at it like a cat.

“A promotion?! Baby, that’s amazing!” Alex pulls back just enough to take a glance at you, his own expression steeling from excitement back to sadness as he sees that you are still fighting back tears. “Sweetheart, I think you’re the only person to ever cry after getting a promotion.”

A little laugh escapes your chest, huffy and wet, but still a laugh. Alex’s lips curl into a smile as he reaches up to smooth back some of your stray hairs, like you’d done for him a moment or two ago. You smile, reaching up to intercept his hand, and lace the two of you’s fingers together.

He squeezes your hand where it’s resting in his grip, looking at your linked fingers briefly. “Also, your family is wrong.”

“About what specifically?” You huff, wiping at your eyes for hopefully the final time.

“About perfection not existing. It does, and I know exactly what it looks like.” Despite the serious words, Alex is fighting back a smile. You narrow your eyes at him, already anticipating the next thing he’s going to say. “It looks like you, dumbass.”

You groan, feeling a hot blush rise to your cheeks immediately. You tip forward to bury yourself in Alex’s neck, this time hiding your flustered face and stupidly happy grin.

“I can feel your smile against my neck, you know.”

“Oh, fuck off-.”

With the hand that’s on the back of your neck, Alex coaxes you out of hiding just to press a kiss to your forehead. “Really. I am proud of you. I don’t want you to be afraid to tell me about your achievements because of what your family has done to you.”

“Okay,” you whisper again, voice thick with emotion. “Thank you.”

He hums in response, tilting his head and looking at you with what can only be described as pure fondness in his eyes. Then, he leans down to meet you for a delicate kiss, and your eyes finally stop stinging.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi Steph! Would you happen to have any fic recs that involve John meeting the Holmes family? I always think that's such an interesting dynamic to see! Also, I think this goes without saying but I love your blog and appreciate your contributions to the fandom! Thanks!

Hey Nonny!

Ah, thank you! I’m glad you enjoy my blog!

Oooo! Yes, I love that dynamic too!! ANNNNND!!! You’re giving me the chance to make a part 2 for a REALLY OLD LIST!!! So YAY!!! I found a bunch on a text doc I haven’t posted yet, so HERE WE GO! Hope you enjoy, and as always, everyone please add your own!

PARENTS AND FAMILIES Pt. 2

See also: 

Parents & Family

Meeting the Family With a Fake Relationship

Do You Love Me? by whitchry9 (K, 641 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Family, Epic Bromance) – John asks Sherlock perhaps the most important question.

Once Upon A Time by ProfessorSquirrell (T, 908 w., 1 Ch. || Family, Snippets of Life, Romance, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Implied Drug Use, Angst with Happy Ending) – There is a room in Sherlock's mind palace where nothing gets deleted. And it looks like this...

Crisis Averted by Spartangal22 (T, 2,188 w., 1 Ch. || HLV Fic, Missing Scene After Confronting Mary, Canon Compliant, Sherlock Whump / Mary Shot Sherlock, Family / Friendship, Hospitalization, Sherlock POV, Holmes Brothers) – Lying in the hospital, Sherlock receives some surprising visitors, and manages to deal with two problems he's been having lately. A missing scene from HLV about a formal introduction that was never made and a visit that was never shown.

The Only Available Transportation by blueink3 (T, 5,379 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Fluff and Angst, Insecure Sherlock, Caring John, Parentlock, Sherlock’s Birthday, Family, Misunderstandings) – It’s possibly the desperation that’s seeped into his voice despite his best intentions, or perhaps it’s just a mother’s intuition, but she knows that whatever he’s calling about is Serious, hangover be damned. “What’s happened?” she asks, tone soft and as comforting as a hot cup of tea on a cold winter’s night. “Mummy,” he begins, voice catching. “I think John may be moving out.”

On the Steadfast Approach of an Oncoming Darkness by 2bee (T, 7,772 w., 1 Ch. || Apocalypse, Minor Character Death, Sort of Parentlock) – The world is ending. Not fast, but slowly, like falling asleep with a fever.

The Name Game by ItsClydeBitches221B (K, 8,958 w., 1 Ch. || Humour, Family, Platonics / Friendship, Sort-of Parentlock, John/Mary, Mary is Nice, Five and Ones, Baby Watson, Mycroft Loves Baby Watson) – The names that baby girl Watson comes up with for her extended family. Or: how everyone—Watsons, Holmes, and others alike— just learned to give up and embrace their weirdness.

The Burning of the Leaves by blueink3 (M, 15,915 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Angst, Reichenbach, Parentlock, Past Jolto, Idiot John, Sherlock’s a Mess, Puppies, Fluff, Possessive / Jealous Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, Matchmaker Sholto, Melancholic Feelings, Emotional Sherlock, Domesticity, Love Confessions in the Rain, Kissing in the Rain, Pet Names) – After the events of series 4, Major Sholto invites John and Sherlock to lunch one day. It nearly proves to be too much for their tenuous relationship as the past haunts the present, putting the future that Sherlock so desperately wants at risk.

Permanent Fixture by vitruvianwatson (E, 18,836 w., 9 Ch. || Post-S4, Parentlock, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, They’re Good Parents, Blushing Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Explicit Consent, Sexual Content, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Big Feelings, Crying, First Kiss, Fluff, Anxious Sherlock, Inexperienced Sherlock, Emotional Communication, Love Confessions) – Now, as Rosie sat curled up against Sherlock’s side, John watched and wondered exactly how he had ended up here. Domesticity had never suited him before, not at any point in his life. His disastrous marriage had been proof of that. But somehow, here in the warmth and safety of 221B Baker Street, here with Sherlock Holmes reading medical jargon to his daughter, Sherlock’s bony feet nudging against his leg, John couldn’t imagine anyplace that would make him happier.

Dropping the Act by jadztone (T, 27,258 w., 10 Ch. || Parentlock, Fake Relationship, Mary’s Family, Post-S4, Cuddling & Snuggling, Bed Sharing, Pining, Christmas) – Sherlock and John are quite happy living together with Rosie in Baker St. They might be even happier if they didn’t act towards each other like their love is only platonic. Mycroft brings troubling news in the form of Mary’s parents wanting to know just what their grandchild’s home life is like. The boys decide to spend Christmas pretending like they are in love in order to seem more like a "normal" family. It's easy enough to pretend when all you're doing is dropping the act.

An Acquired Taste by kinklock (E, 31,059 w., 4 Ch. || Vampires AU || Vampire Sherlock, Misunderstandings, Bat!Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Humour, Magical Realism, Fluff and Angst, Blood Drinking, Holmes Family, Slow Burn) – At Montague Street when Sherlock was forced to sate his body’s needs, he was at least able to wander about the flat as much as he pleased. At Baker Street, it was mini-bags in a mini-fridge and bedroom confinement.

Chaperones by MissDavis (T, 34,114 w., 7 Ch. || 11 Years Post-S4, Fake Relationship, Parentlock, Disney World, Bed / Room Sharing, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, First Kiss, Obsessive Sherlock, Insecure John) – Right. Of course. Everyone assumed they were a couple and no one would question it. John put his elbows up on the table so he could rest his head in his hands. "You want to pretend to be a couple so we can chaperone a trip to Disney World with Rosie's class and you won't have to share a room with a stranger?" "Exactly." Sherlock beamed at him. "Don't worry about the cost. The Birmingham case last month paid more than enough to cover expenses for all three of us."

Where The Ghosts Have Voices by HappyJuicyfruit (M, 37,691 w., 12 Ch. || Supernatural AU || Ghosts, Magical Realism, Light Horror, Fluff and Smut, John Can See Ghosts, John Whump, Emotional Manipulation, Dark Magic, Coma, Injury Recovery, Blow Jobs, Anal, Happy Ending, John’s Past, Mr Holmes, Powerful John, Holmes Brothers, Sherlock’s Past, Past Viclock, Drug Abuse, Hair Pulling) – John has lived his whole life as an outcast. It is only when he meets Sherlock, that be realizes being a freak might not be such a bad thing, and that the curse he has lived with his whole life may be a gift after all. (TO READ)

Anchor Point by trickybonmot (E, 49,856 w., 80 Ch. || Truman Show AU || Psychological Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Dark Characters / Fic, Alternating First/Third Person, Protective John, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Tender Moments, Love Confessions, Hand/Blow Jobs, Cuddling, Jealous John, First Kiss/Time) – The world tunes in nightly for Sherlock, the ultimate in reality TV: Sherlock Holmes, a real person with a legendary name, unknowingly lives out his life in a staged setting contrived by his brother. Things get complicated when a retired army doctor joins the show to play the part of Sherlock's closest friend. This fic borrows its concept from the 1998 film, the Truman Show. However, you don't need to have any knowledge of the movie to enjoy this story.

The Hollow Woman by ScopesMonkey (M, 51,335 w., 22 Ch. || Post-TRF, Major Character Death, Mystery, Romance, Friendship, Family, Angst, Crime, Reunion, First Kiss / Time, Nightmares, Doctor John, Jealous Sherlock, Jealous John, BAMF John, Angry John, Dub-Con, Rough Sex, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Villain Mary, Open Ending) – Forced to return to London sooner than expected, Sherlock falls into a case too close to home. Part 1 of the Hollowverse series

Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."

Points by lifeonmars (E, 53,791 w., 42 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || HLV Rewrite / Canon Divergence, Married Life, Pregnancy / Baby Watson, Drinking to Cope, Boxing / Fisticuffs, Clueless John, Angst, Minor Medical Drama, Tattoos, Christmas, First Kiss/Time, Eventual Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Doctor John, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Case Fic, Drugging, Blow/Hand Job, Emotional Love Making, Parenthood, Passage of Time) – What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.

The Monument of Memory by J_Baillier (M, 79,663 w., 14 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It Fic / S4 is Canon, Angst, Family Drama, Guilt, Case Fic, John Loves Sherlock, Complicated Feelings, Mentalism / Hypnosis, Murder, Grieving John, Sherlock is a Bit Not Good, Team Work, Trust Issues, BAMF John, Psychological Trauma, Protective John, Autistic-Spectrum Sherlock, Parentlock, John POV) –  A genius traumatised by a past he's only beginning to recall. The psychopath sister that time forgot. A missing woman and a mentalist who may or may not be a murderer. And, in the middle of it all, stands John Watson.

Kintsukuroi by sussexbound (E, 91,823 w., 20 Ch. || S4 Compliant / Post-TLD, Grief / Mourning, PTSD, Internalized Homophobia, Therapy, Past Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Anxiety, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Suicidal Ideation, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Sexting, Frottage, Inexperienced Sherlock, Rimming / Anal / BJ’s, Emotional Turmoil, Finding Each Other) – “I love you.” Sherlock sees the words hit John with almost physical force. He reels back a little, jaw twitching and eyes filling. “I love you,” he repeats, a little softer, a little more gentle, as earnest as he possibly can. Because they’ve been teetering on the brink of this thing for years, and it had become painfully obvious over the last few months that they were at a tipping point. This had to happen. Now it has. Now they can see where they end up. The tears in John’s eyes spill over, and he wipes at them angrily. “Do you even know what that means?”  

The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,706 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, Asexual Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Flashbacks, Bullying, 1980′s Kid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock, Case Fic, Sherlock’s Past, Awkward Conversations, Anxious Sherlock) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series

The Wedding Garments by cwb (E, 105,390 w., 36 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate Future AU || Alternate First Meeting, Dating / Arranged Marriages, Romance, First Kiss/Time, Heavy Petting, Cuddles, POV Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn / Falling in Love / Dev. Rel., Nervous/Anxious Sherlock, Jealous/Cranky, Hiking, Vacation Homes / Honeymoon, Sherlock’s Family, Horny John/Sherlock, Patient John, Massages, Hand Jobs, Assassination Plots, Hand Jobs / Oral Sex, Case Fic, Emotional Love Making, Bath Time Fun) – This is the story of a young consulting detective who wants nothing to do with marriage and an army doctor who wants to find true love. It's 2020 post-Brexit England and the British government is encouraging arranged marriages. Candidates meet through state-run agencies and date in hopes of finding love (and tax benefits). Sherlock doesn't need or want a spouse, at least not until John Watson shows up. Hesitant to give in to his more carnal urges because of the way they derail his mind, how will Sherlock progress toward the more intimate aspects of a relationship? The answer lies in a very special wedding gift.

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

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.

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

[tinyboxxtink]

Can I have a fix of barba where he is dating a senior (law) and she doesn't tell him but the college organises a talk with him as the ADA and he witnesses it and he goes all protective?

Sorry this was so late babe!

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@shittanyy

---------------

You grabbed the last of your notes out of your binder and started organizing them by importance. You were a bit anal retentive like that; luckily your boyfriend found it adorable. As if he knew you were thinking of him at that moment, your phone rang.

“Hey baby,” You answered it with a smile as you hurried out of class.

“Hola, amor,” His sexy accented spanish greeting came through your phone, making you melt. “How’s your day going,”

“Oh,” You tried to get to a quiet spot quickly, hoping he didn’t notice all the noise around you. No dice.

“Am I catching you at a bad time?” He asked. “Busy day in the courtroom?”

Okay so maybe you hadn’t mentioned to him that you were only a senior in law school, and not an actual lawyer yet. But that’s only because he was the ADA of New York City and so sophisticated, and you really weren’t sure that he would find it totally ethical to date a law student. So you had conveniently left that part out when he asked you what you did when you met him at a local bar where lawyers usually hung out after being at the courthouse.

“Uh, yeah, very,” You felt bad lying to him all the time, but soon you’d be graduating and it wouldn’t be a lie anymore.

“Ah well,” He replied. “You know I love you, right?”

“....That doesn’t sound good,” You suddenly became nervous.

“No no, nothing bad mi amor,” He assured you. “I am however, going to have to take a rain check on dinner tonight,”

“Oh no,” You groaned. “Whyyy?”

“Well I was just asked by my boss to give a lecture at NYU tomorrow,”

That was your school. Oh God.

“O-Oh?” You faltered. “Why’s that?”

“Well, he was supposed to do it, but he doesn’t want to. So he pawned it off on me,”

“Ohhh,” You nervously chuckled. “That’s-- that’s…”

“Awful? I know,” He scoffed with a laugh. “Law students are the worst,”

“Ha ha,” Your nervous laugh became overzealous. “Yeah, no totally,”

“Anyway,” He continued. “Maybe after I dazzle the kids with my knowledge, we can have lunch? I know you said you worked by the college,”

Well, he wasn’t wrong...you were near the college at all times.

“Ha ha, sureeee, sure,” You power walked through the quad towards your dorm.

“Well good,” You could hear that million dollar smile through the phone. “Can’t wait, I miss you so much. Seems like you’ve been busy with this case, it’s almost like you’re back in law school yourself,”

“Ha ha!” You let out a big fake laugh as you approached your dorm room. “Yeah, mm hmm,” You got inside and slammed the door.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise baby,” He promised. “I love you,”

“I love you too, Raffi,” You smiled, twirling your hair in your fingers. “Remember that,”

“...What?”

“Uh, nothing,” You quickly covered. “I’ll see you tomorrow,”

You didn’t know how right you were.

-------------

The next day you were greeted in your Compliance and Defense Class by the most horrifying site: Your beautiful, sophisticated boyfriend was standing at the head of the class.

“Oh my god,” You muttered, pulling your hoodie over your head and heading straight up to the back row of the lecture hall. You thought you were safe, until he started scanning the room. He’d know your big beautiful eyes anywhere, even sheltered behind an NYU sweatshirt.

“...Oh my god,” He muttered to himself, quickly looking at the ground. His mind was spinning; How could you not have told him this? Why would you lie? How could he be dating...a law student?!

“Well, Mr. Barba,” Your professor cleared his throat. “Whenever you’d like to begin,”

“Right,” He picked up his notes and began to nervously speak. “I-I um, so the first thing to remember is--” He tried keeping his cool, but all he could see was your embarrassed face. He could see the anguish in your eyes, he wanted so badly to talk to you.

“I--I’m sorry, I need a minute,” He shook his head and stomped out of the lecture hall. You couldn’t help yourself, you dashed out behind him.

“What are you doing?!” Rafael hissed as soon as he saw you. “I-- I can’t-- you--”

“Let me explain,” You cut him off. “Please, baby--”

“Oh no,” He looked around nervously. “Not baby, not here,”

“...Sorry,” You mumbled, looking at the floor.

“How could you lie to me?” He looked at you with real hurt in his eyes. It broke your heart.

“I’m sorry, Rafael--” You went to go for his hand, but he jerked it away. “I just-- I saw you in the bar that night, and you were the most handsome man I’d ever seen. And I just thought--” You sighed.

“I knew if you knew I was just a law student, you’d never talk to me,” You finally admitted, biting your lip to keep from crying. You were not going to cry in the middle of your law school in front of your big important boyfriend.

“....I guess you’re right,” He said softly, making your head jerk up. Was he serious?

“R-Really?” You asked nervously.

“Yes, really,” He nodded with a small smile. “If you hadn’t lied to me, I wouldn’t have the love of my life right now,”

“....W-What??” You blinked in disbelief. “The love of your life?”

“Well yeah,” He looked around before putting a hand to your face. “I love you, Y/N. You’re it for me,”

Tears lined your eyes, you wanted so badly to kiss him right there in your school hallway. But you thought better of it.

“You’re it for me too, Rafa,” You just beamed at him proudly. “Now go show them what a badass ADA you are,”

“That I can do,” He nodded proudly. And shockingly, he took one last look around at the empty hallways and gave you a quick small kiss before walking back into the lecture hall.

You were the luckiest girl in the world.

[gojoscloset]

Blame.

GETO SUGURU X READER ANGST/FLUFF

Warnings: Bad words

Shitty writing /unedited

Pt. 3 / 4

(Please read A/N at the end, I’m sorry )^: )

❣️❌❣️❌❣️❌❣️❌❣️❌❣️❌❣️❌❣️❌❣️

Geto’s senses were overstimulated at the sight of you.

He was overwhelmed with what felt like a rush of warm colors; it was enough to form Goosebumps on his skin.

The sound of your voice made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up straight.

Your voice was music to his ears, like each word that slipped from your mouth was honeyed and he desperately needed a taste.

Geto immediately recalled the nights he watched the videos he had saved, ones that had your voice in them and how would replay them over and over again until it almost became an obsession. But those nights were nothing compared to how your voice made him feel now.

He could smell your perfume. The perfume.

One he had gifted you many moons ago, one that drove him wild, and he insisted you wear for him whenever the two of you went out on dates, And you did, because you weren’t one to deny him of anything he asked for.

Knowing that you took the time to put it on gave Geto Hope. Hope that maybe just maybe he still crossed your mind like you crossed his.

But it was when his eyes met yours that did it for him. The pseudo smile he carried wavered instantaneously. He repeated your name with trembling lips and averted his gaze, but quickly brought it back to meet yours. He had been deprived of your entire being and didn’t want to deny himself of what he'd been craving for weeks, yet his demons yelled in his ear to look away. He felt undeserving being in your presence.

It was evident you utilized your time away from him properly, it showed in the way you carried yourself. Fear struck his heart with realization that all he did while you were away was sulk while you worked on yourself.

He began to have doubts about whether or not you would come back to him if he hadn’t worked on himself as much as he should.

“Suguru…” you whispered and reached over to gently take his hand in yours, he immediately laced your fingers with his.

The kind gesture that was meant to soothe the pain only made him cry more. “I think I’m ready to talk…” you whispered softly, looking at his torn expression tugged on your heart strings. “Let’s go to the apartment, yeah?” You suggested since it seemed he wasn’t going to stop crying anytime soon.

—

The walk to the apartment was silent,with the exception of occasional sniffles and the sounds of you taking sips of your coffee. The silence was not uncomfortable, but it was unfamiliar.

Under better circumstances he would talk and tease you, but for now you two walked next to each other, like friends. There was a gap between the two of you, but it wasn’t vast, to you, But for Suguru it felt like it was a mile wide.

It wasn’t until you entered the apartment that the uneasiness hit you. Everything was eerily untouched, exactly how you left it, almost to the T.

The sweater you wore that same day still on the couch sprawled over the armrest. Your house slippers in the same position, you tried sneaking a glance into the room you two once shared, but the door was closed.

Your mind couldn’t help but wonder if the drawers were left open and if things were still scattered across the floor.

“Sorry..about the mess.” He spoke quietly and took a seat at the dining room table, you sat across from him, giving him a smile.

“Don’t worry about it.” Again there was a silence between the two of you, not uncomfortable, but unfamiliar.

“Do you need a moment, Suguru?”

“No.” His voice cracked.

“Okay...Uh… hmmm...Where do I begin?” You looked around the room while you organized your thoughts.

“I do have a lot to say, I hope I was not interrupting anything….”

He quickly shook his head giving you the floor.

“Then Please allow me to tell you how I feel… about everything” you cleared your throat and he nodded, listening closely, tears having stopped but heart was understandably extremely sensitive.

“Being away from you made me realize a lot Of things, A lot of things, Suguru. First and foremost being how much I love you. But I also realized I love myself more, which is why-“

“Please don’t leave me…” he interrupted softly before you could continue. “I know I have been selfish and it is becoming a commodity in the relationship and I don’t mean to interrupt you and don’t expect for you to change your mind, but in case you do leave me I just want to tell you how much you mean to me and how much I need you.”

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat, the ‘tough cookie’ exterior you put on when you approached him quickly crumbling the more he spoke.

You weren’t going to leave him, that was the last thing on your mind,you wanted to give him a piece of your mind before continuing to live the life you two created together.

“Being encased in a home we built together is karma I put on myself. I miss you. I miss everything about you. Everything” he emphasized with hand gestures.

“Your smile. The way you smell. The way you call my name. The cadence in your voice, your walk, your talk, sometimes I would go out and someone laughed like you and I-...I ...“ he choked out a sob and buried his face in his hands.

“I’m not leaving you Suguru…” The two of you locked eyes with each other, there was hope in his eyes.

“I just wanted to tell you how much that shit sucks. Being accused of infidelity when I gave you as much of me and my love as I possibly could, but even so…” you wiped the tears from your eyes, Geto was hit with deja vu, recalling the scene the day you left and how he wished he could wipe the tears for you.

He was being given another chance at redemption and he gladly took it.

He stood up from his seat, making his way to you, he knelt down beside you and wiped the tears away, as he should have the first time.

“I’m so sorry… I love you more than I could ever put into words y/n. What I said was out of insecurity. This doesn’t justify my actions or what I said, but my words came from a place of insecurity and fear. I was afraid you would go to Gojo because he literally has everything you could ever want…”

“You ARE everything I want so stop saying that!” you quickly interjected before he spiraled into a self deprecating headspace.

His hands laced with yours and he dropped his head. You could almost physically feel the doubts that had been eating at him disappear with those 9 words.

“I love you..so so much…” he sobbed quietly whilst lacing your fingers together. He brought your knuckles to his lips placing multiple kisses on them.

“And I love you so so much” you whispered, cupping his face in your free hand, wiping away his tears.

The rest of the night consisted of non stop chattering and laughter. Tears were shed and stories exchanged about how the two of you felt away from each other.

Boundaries were reset and apologies were made, a new chapter in your relationship was written that night, and as long as the pages are written with love, the story will go on forever and ever.

—-

🤠 howdy! It’s me again! Ahh I apologize for this chapter, I was in the middle of writing it when the snowstorm hit (I live in shithead Texas) and pretty much my whole life went to shit momentarily.

But thankfully things finally went back to normal ..kinda (after 2+ fucking weeks of no water) the damages are fixed and stuff but guess who is now $2k+ in debt

That’s right! Yours truly!

LMAOO hate it here

Y’all don’t invest in a home in America unless the area is good. And please check the foundation because wow. I hate it here sometimes.

Anyway, again I do apologize for such a shitty written chapter, but expect a part 4 (the final chapter) and also hopefully with a lot better writing. Like I’m literally so so so sorry I feel like it’s so anticlimactic but I got y’all, don’t worry. Ahhh again sorry if it’s anti climatic as fuck

I wanted to put something out for y’all so bad )^:

Anywho

Please anticipate my next works and also a master list and finalizing my blog theme

Finally lololol.

Thank you

I love you

Neptilian ✨

[janiedean]

crack prompt inspired by all the tvd talk on your blog: damon, jaime, tony stark all walk into a bar alone and end up drunk oversharing ~~

(if you wanna include ships in it anything with delena/dalaric/bamon; brienne; pepper/bruce/strange/rhodey is okay lmfao so pretty much anything goes, i just want them being each other's therapist because the timeline collapsed for some time and their universes interacted somehow lmfao)

*spins the wheel* AAAND hello anon we can absolutely try that u__u

ten years on tumblr anniversary prompt post | buy me a coffee | commissions open

Well, now I really did bite off more than I could chew, Tony thinks as he shakes his head and hopes that he and Bruce didn't fuck up the entire fabric of reality.

Well.

He's not in New York and he wasn't in the span of five seconds since they got the machine turned on, but - but well. Bruce isn't here, so hopefully he'll figure out where the fuck he ended up. Maybe we should have been sober when trying to work out that whole different timelines and multiverses thing.

Now, damage control. He should probably try to not go anywhere, but in case he actually just... teleported somewhere, maybe he should just ask where he is. He glances at his back. He's in front of a bar named Mystic Grill, which... okay, shitty name, but he could be anywhere in fuck-all-middle-of-nowhere Idaho for all he knows. He takes out his cellphone, and there is zero reception.

Bad news.

He sees a blonde kid with a police badge coming up the road, so he clears his throat and stops him.

"Uh, officer?"

"Hello," the kid says, "I don't remember seeing you around here."

Yeah, because I'm not from this world, most likely. "Eh," Tony lies, "I was driving my car but it broke down outside town and the way I got in, there wasn't a sign. Would you mind telling me where exactly I ended up?"

"Mystic Falls," the guy says, "I didn't know the damned State of Virginia now took us off the maps, too." That was sarcastic, Tony can hear it, but.

He's sure that there is no such place where he comes from.

"Right," Tony says, "I'll, uh, be out to find a mechanic then."

The kid gives him instructions to reach one, Tony thanks him and lets him go. Well, he can't certainly go anywhere now, but at least it seems like they fucked up just his -

"What the fuck," he hears from his left side -

Just in time to see a blonde guy wearing a white armor and a white cloak fall through a portal just the same as his own, that disappears a moment later. The blonde guy has green eyes, Tony notices, is lacking a right hand because he has a rather heavy golden prothesis on it that looks tacky also for his own tastes and looks completely out of his depth as he moves to his feet.

"Uh," Tony says, "I imagine you aren't from... here."

"Certainly not," the guy says, sounding... near hysterical, as he takes the surroundings. "What - what are those things anyway?" Cars. Oh fuck, he's looking at cars. "How are you dressed? What - what are these houses?"

"Er," Tony says, "humor me a moment. What's your name and where do you come from?"

The guy rolls his eyes. "Jaime Lannister, and I come from Westeros, thank you very much, now where the hell am I?"

... Great, Tony thinks, now it's not even someplace where the USA exist. "Er," Tony says, "in another world. Listen, it's my fault, I, uh, sort of caused it, and my colleague will most likely fix it, but it's really better we don't go anywhere so he can locate us more easily. Tell you what, can I buy you a drink while we wait?"

"Another world?" The guy blurts, and then - then he stares at Tony, then at his surroundings, then rolls his eyes again.

"You know what," he says, "I've had a shit long day. What can this be on top of fucking undead Catelyn Stark? Buy me the fucking drink."

I'm not doing drunk science anymore, Tony vows to himself as they walk inside the place, and he really hopes he can spin some story as to why the guy with him is wearing bonafide armor -

"And who the fuck are the two of you now?"

So: Tony had not taken into account that there would be just one person in the bar and that this person would be of course not human because no one human could pin the two of them to the wall in a split second and hold them there with such strength, and that's how he finds out that pretty guy with blue eyes, dark hair, pale skin and homicidal face is a damned vampire.

Except that the moment Tony explains it - Jaime or whoever he is is just keeping his mouth shut, wisely - the guy stares at them, and then more, and then -

"With everything I've seen in the last years," he says, "honestly, that's not even the most fucking stupid. So, you just want to lounge around until your friend shows up to fix whatever the fuck you did?"

"Er, yes?"

"Whatever. I'm Damon. I can cover your drinks and compel the bartender to forget your face. I sorely fucking need some myself."

He lets them go, but then - "Get that armor off," he tells Jaime, "this isn't New York City."

"I can't just leave my armor around!"

"Just leave it in the bathroom and take it back later," Damon shrugs, and then nods towards what's most likely the bathroom.

Jaime shrugs and goes, muttering something about maybe having drank too much milk of the poppy, and Tony doesn't want to know whatever the hell that is.

--

"Listen," Jaime says later, wearing an attire that's still obviously Middle-Ages-like but at least doesn't stand out too much, sipping at the bourbon Damon shoved at them, "I'm choosing to think I'm making this all up, but if I'm not, how long will it be before I can go back where I come from? Because you dragged me away from a rather fucking delicate situation."

"No idea," Tony shrugs, "but he's good at his job. And he was less drunk than me. We might get you back at the point you left."

"And what would that delicate situation be?" Damon asks. "Entertain me."

"And why should I tell you?"

"First, I bought you that alcohol and you're definitely enjoying it. Second, this is my town and I could tear your throat open if I wanted to." Fuck. He just showed fangs at the both of them. What the fuck. "Also, my murderous former girlfriend who is the cause of all my problems just finally fucked off this planet for good after possessing my current girlfriend who looks like her but really is the whole contrary and my best friend just came back to life after being dead for a whole lot of time and it's a complicated situation and I need a distraction or ten."

"That... sounds like something," Tony mutters, sipping at his alcohol. It's good, at least.

"Believe me, it is. So, what's the poison from Middle Ages here?"

"Ah, fuck that," Jaime says, takes a drink, and starts talking.

--

Half an hour later, Tony thinks that he and Damon are equally staring at the guy with the same disbelieving face.

"... Was that the undead woman that got you like this?" Jaime asks, blinking. "Considering that he seems like he's some kind of living dead, that's a tad hypocritical."

"No," Damon says, "that's the least of my problems. How haven't you frenched this Brienne person already?"

"I frenched?"

"Dude, he's from the Middle Ages," Tony takes pity on him. "He means put your tongue in her mouth."

"I - what - she's not - I'm not -"

"Listen," Damon cuts him, "I've been there. I mean, thinking I couldn't live without an arse who didn't give a fuck about me, which you admitted. But you do realize you spent at least five minutes of your charming tale describing us exactly how this Brienne of yours is ripped and has pretty eyes and was about to die for you?"

"Yeah, uh," Tony says, "let it come from someone who had the right people in front of him for ages and didn't let himself go for it, you really don't wanna drag it any longer."

"That's - she's a knight, that's not -"

"Oh, sure, all knights are shit where you come from, you said that, but suddenly someone would rather hang than kill you and you're here jittering because you got sucked here while she's dealing with a zombie that wanted you dead but I have to think you don't wanna french her?" Damon rolls his eyes again, pours himself another drink and honestly, Tony has cut down on the alcohol lately but he's gonna just make a damned exception. "Please."

"He's right," Tony says, "and also, let it come from someone whose dad was loaded on money and fairly shitty and still way better than yours, whatever he said about you is wrong."

"How do you know -" Jaime starts, half-blanching.

"Told you," Tony shrugs, "loaded on money, shitty father, at least I missed out on the shit sister. Honestly, man, just fucking drop her like hot coal and follow your gut. And let it come from someone who's fucked around a lot to get distracted, if you wanted to bone her in that bath then you're into her."

"I -" Jaime goes red in the face, finishes the drink, "it's not like it ever happened with anyone else before, it was a mistake, most likely -"

Damon gives him a look that looks halfway worried.

Tony thinks he just matched it, except even more worried.

"My vampire friend," he says, "are you thinking what I am thinking?"

"I'm afraid so," Damon says, and then looks back at Jaime. "Newsflash," he goes on, "if you get hard looking at a naked woman most likely you find her attractive. Also, you can find more than one person attractive in your life. And let it come from someone who's been there in the sense that I thought I could only love fucking Katherine, you really don't want to keep on doing it."

"I didn't say I wasn't done with Cersei," Jaime replies, somewhat weakly.

"Good," the two of them reply at the same time, and Tony has to snort.

"Look at that," he says, "for once I'm the one with the healthiest relationship history sitting at a table. Who'd have thought?"

"Fuck this," Damon says, "I'm getting more bourbon."

"Please," Jaime says, and - well. Seems like when Bruce comes to collect him, Tony won't be sober.

--

"Wait," Jaime says, "wait, wait, wait, she possessed your girlfriend?"

"Yeah, well, as if," Damon shrugs, "honestly, sometimes I think I should have just run away to New York after deserting."

"You deserted what?" Tony asks.

"The fucking confederacy," Damon shrugs. "Well, what are you staring about? I'm a vampire, I've been around ages, I'm from fucking middleofnowhere Virginia, you think I got drafted with the unionists? But I disagreed and I hated it and I never wanted to go, so I fucking deserted. I hope you aren't here judging me, or -"

"Please, I used to build weapons for the army and stopped when I realized it wasn't what I wanted to be, and honestly, that just means you have a conscience, so -"

"Wait, you did what," Jaime says.

"Deserted. An army. Back in the day. Risked my neck for it, and I came back and met Katherine and honestly I should have just gone North, but -"

"Hm," Jaime says, drinking, and then - "you don't regret it?"

"No," Damon says at once, "best decision I ever took. Why, you want to do that, too?"

"Sure he wants to," Tony says when Jaime doesn't immediately reply. "Let me guess, not just your army. You want to desert the whole shebang, don't you?"

"I don't know what a fucking shebang is, but yes. So what?"

"Well, if you want my been there done that advice, do that," Damon shrugs. "From what it sounds like, your entire world is collapsing because of zombies anyway, what do you have to lose? Your sister? You're better fucking off without."

Jaime stares down at the glass, then knocks it down. "Can I have another?"

"Sure," Damon says, and generously tips it.

--

"So what," Tony says, "now that your best friend you had a thing with while your girlfriend was with your brother is back to life you're having trouble adjusting?"

"She also hadn't been possessed by my murderous ex until then," Damon shrugs.

Jaime just looks at them, then drinks some more. "Who am I to judge on that anyway," he says, "but that sounds like a lot of work."

"You wouldn't believe," Damon shrugs, knocking down some more of his bourbon. "Never mind that Stefan won't get over brooding instead of fessing up to the girl he is in love with now, but it's not like I hadn't expected it."

"Tell him to," Jaime says at once. "I let my father fuck things up for my brother once and I hate that I ever did, just - don't."

"This is getting fucking eerie," Damon says.

Tony, who is currently feeling very thankful he doesn't have siblings, takes another sip. Then -

"Man, if it's complicated just date the both of them. If they both like you and aren't the kind of super monogamous people that can't handle a threesome once in a while, they won't have a problem."

"... And what do you know?"

He shrug. "Well," he says, "my steady girlfriend was in front of my eyes for years. Took us a while to get over ourselves. The guy I was doing drunk science with, well. Was an instant hit and I didn't let myself drag it in the centuries and guess what, we have a nice lovely arrangement where I'm with both of them, they commiserate about how much of an idiot I can be and sometimes we all occasionally have sex. It's grand. You should try it."

And I really hope Bruce shows up soon.

"Huh," Damon says, "maybe it has merit. For me. Not for you."

Jaime sputters. "I said nothing!"

"You shouldn't even think about threesomes. I can see it in your face you're not the type. And certainly not including your sister."

"Fuck you," Jaime replies without meaning it, "I was not considering that." Huh. Now he sounds offended Damon implied it. Maybe he really will fess up to the other one when he's back.

"Then it means this enlightening talk has enlightened you," Tony grins. "Mind telling us more about that hand?"

"And why?"

Tony shrugs. It's not like he doesn't have time to waste. "What if I could help you with that thing?" He says, nodding towards Jaime's stump, and then - well. Time to test if he can summon the armor here, too.

--

"God," Damon says a while later, "I'll have to compel that poor bartender so hard, but fuck this is something."

Sure it is, Tony grins. "Hey, I managed to fuck with quantum reality, I'm not the first idiot that passes by."

"Seven Hells," Jaime says, "I have no idea what it is you're putting on me but if it works half as well as that thing you have, I'm going to show back up in King's Landing just to show my sister who has the useless hand now. If she didn't get herself killed."

"Well, now that is one reason I could approve of," Tony laughs, "and don't fucking move."

Sure, building a prothesis from the rests of whatever nonfunctioning electronics the bartender had lying around is... somewhat a challenge, but as stated, he has time to waste and it's not like he's wanted anywhere soon.

"By the way," Damon says as he watches him tinker around with the toolkit he found him in the backroom, "do you need advice in the whole I fucked up and want my brother to forgive me department?"

"What if I do?" Jaime replies through his teeth. "Because now that would distract me from how much this entire thing is fucking hurting."

The more they talk while he tinkers, the more Tony decides he's absolutely glad he was an only child and that his father only fucked one son up.

--

"You're doing this while not even being fucking sober?" Damon knocks back more bourbon. "You sure you don't wanna stay here and turn into an immortal? You'd be useful."

"Thanks but I like my life as it is," Tony snorts. "But if you need tech tinkered with, you can ask while I'm here."

Jaime is just staring at the steel-colored hand coming to life while Tony puts piece after piece together, his throat working up and down.

He drinks some more. "Fuck, if only I had such a thing when I realized what the fuck Aerys had turned into."

"Wait, who's Aerys now?" Damon asks.

--

He hadn't told them that part in detail.

When he's done and Tony is at the fourth finger, he kind of wants to hurl, but mostly -

"Do we really have to stay here," Damon says, "or you think we could sneak him to a VA? I can compel them to just hear that he's talking about Vietnam or something."

"He's not old enough for Vietnam, but you know what, I think we could risk that."

"What in the Seven Hells is a VA?"

"Someone I really could have used in the nineteenth century," Damon sighs, and then just as Tony moves to the last finger -

"Tony, what the hell is this?"

--

Turns out, where Bruce comes from it took him two days to figure this out. He also immediately spots three different improvements Tony could do to that hand, and when he hears the entire shebang he raises his hands and says that he can send Jaime right back when he left at any point and he and Tony, too, but he supposes that if they want to compel the VA before they leave it's not like he's in a hurry, and wait, vampires?

Damon ends up asking him if the threesome thing is really working out as well as Tony says.

While he does, Tony manages the finishing touches on the sort-of-steel-and-iron-hand he cobbled up together, and thank fuck Bruce showed up because he had been the one studying how Barnes's arm worked, back in the day, and gave Tony the pointer he needed to make sure the entire thing was... well, connected to the nervous system without needing to rip Jaime's wrist open.

"Right," he says, "try to move the fingers."

Jaime holds them in a fist.

It works.

"Seven fucking hells -"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm a genius. Just keep it out of too many lines of fire, but if you're from the middle ages it should withstand most stuff. You're welcome. And go french that knight of yours instead of waiting, really."

"I think in between him and you, you've made a case. Uh, thank you, I -"

"Nonsense, I was the reason you're here, I might as well have helped out. Hey," he says, "so, what about a last round before we drag him to the VA and Bruce here settles everything?"

"I'm so down for it," Damon says.

"Do I even have a choice," Bruce groans, but then he does sit down at the same table and lets Tony fill his glass.

"Oh, don't look like that," Tony says, "after all I didn't destroy the universe and made some friends, it could have gone worse."

"Wouldn't know about that, but I could have done worse, too," Damon says, and orders more bourbon.

"I sure as the fucking Seven Hells will never manage to explain this to anyone," Jaime says, "but I guess I'm not too disappointed, either."

"Tony," Bruce groans, "did you manage to somehow end up with two people with - never mind. Of course you did. We're never doing drunk science again, hear me?"

"Maybe so," Tony agrees, though... well.

Maybe he will want to check on them, once in a while.

But he can think about how to convince Bruce to make sure they can later.

For now, he'll enjoy his last round.

[kirksfattitties]

asks you can smell the privilege and internalized ableism radiate from

(tw for ableism and other bigoted implications)

i’m bad at reading tone but even i understand that this is 100% you being condescending and trying to cover it up with smiley faces and false sincerity. and i don’t appreciate that.

before i get into deconstructing your shitty ableist argument, i want to explain the reasons i believe in self diagnosis (self-dx):

even professional diagnosis doesn’t start with a doctor diagnosing you. there has to be a reason for seeing the doctor. some people see a doctor in their adult life because they’re struggling, some people are taken by their parents, some people are referred or suggested that they see a specialist. whatever it is, you don’t just see a doctor and they magically give you a neurodivergency. people have neurodivergencies before they see doctors and even if they NEVER see a doctor.

the psychiatry system is flawed in MANY ways and to say that it isn’t means you’re denying the experiences of people with less privledge than yourself. also like psychiatry isn’t gonna suck your dick. you don’t have to be a bootlicker lol

in many places (hi hello i’m from america where our government tries to indirectly kill us by not providing us with adequate healthcare! i and many other people have many issues we can’t get fixed because simply our government cares more about the economy than us), seeing a psychiatrist or a therapist or going to a mental hospital or WHATEVER is INCREDIBLY expensive. and to assume that everyone has access and enough time/money/energy/transportation/whatever to do all of that is classist and elitist.

ANYTHING medical (including mental health) is biased towards white cis men. most studies are done on white cis men/boys. because of this, people who aren’t white cis men (or people who aren’t perceived as white cis men) are often not diagnosed. the system is racist. the system is sexist. the system is transphobic. people don’t know how to diagnose autism or adhd or personality disorders or other neurodivergencies or even mental illnesses in black people and other people of color, in women, in trans people, etc. and GOD FORBID someone be in multiple (or all) of those categories. saying “just go get diagnosed :)” is a privileged statement to make.

shocker! the psychiatry system is also ableist. if you’re already diasabled (whether it be mental or physical) and you see a doctor about ANOTHER disability? the doctor is most likely going to shoot you down. or at least be weary about someone having mutliple disabilities.

also most people who diagnose are neurotypical. they have never and will probably never experience neurodivergency so they can never fully understand it. they operate off of stereotypes of neurodivergent people and usually only stereotypical behavior of neurodivergent white cis men (which, as i mentioned before, is problematic for anyone who isn’t a white cis man). neurotypical diagnosers don’t know the neurodivergent culture and aren’t trained to recognize very common things (like masking for example).

a professional diagnosis can also be weaponized. not everyone can get a professional diagnosis because there are some neurodivergencies (such as autism and personality disorders) and mental illnesses (like depression) that can have legal and medical respercussions to have in your record. trans people can be denied medical and legal transition for being professionally diagnosed. people can lose custody battles for being professionally diagnosed. a professional diagnosis can be used as justification for taking away someone’s body autonomy (especially if that person is also physically disabled).

a LOT of neurodivergencies also have some type of symptom (or symptoms) that make it difficult to interact with people. troubles recognizing facial expressions, troubles understanding certain phrases and types of speech, paranoid about people, audio processing issues, being nonverbal in an environment that doesn’t accommodate for it, overstimulation, extreme social anxiety, discomfort in new situations, problems with eye contact, and a lot more. because like. for many nd people, interacting with people is very difficult and stressful. and hey. if you want to get a professional diagnosis? take a WILD guess what you have to do? FUCKING INTERACT with people! LIKE?? JEHDJJDKEKKDKDKDS. do you know how many professionally diagnosed nd people i know who made their appointment COMPLETELY on their own without help from a parent or family member or friend? LITERALLY ZERO! and i know A FEW nd people who have professional diagnoses! so if someone has social issues that prevent them from doing tasks like calling and making an appointment, showing up for an appointment, talking during the appointment, etc and ALSO doesn’t have familial or friend support (because newsflash! people who are friends/family of disabled people can still be ableist)? almost impossible to get a diagnosis! plus, the diagnosis process is TIME CONSUMING. not everyone can focus on a task for that long and not everyone can miss work/school for that long.

so those are the reasons i support self-dx. (although there’s probably more that i’m forgetting but i have adhd and it’s hard for me to remember things!)

so hopefully you now understand my reasons for believing in self-dx, and perhaps even you’re pro-self-dx now because before you were just uneducated on these issues and how they impact people who aren’t you.

but in case you’re still anti-self-dx and probably hate already-marginalized neurodivergent people, let’s talk about this horrendous ask (series of asks, actually) that i got sent. i feel like i can feel the self hatred and internalized ableism OOZING from this ask and into my inbox, so thanks for that i guess /s

“Sometimes people who self diagnose can take away from those who are actually nd, even sometimes from themselves.”

starting out strong with the ableism on this one by separating people into “self diagnosed” and “actually nd” people. self diagnosed people ARE actually nd

there’s not a limited number of nd resources. this isn’t a math equation of only x amount of people can be nd because there’s only y amount of resources. more people realizing they’re nd will actually MAKE more resources for nd people and will bring more awareness to being nd

even IF someone self diagnosed, and they go back on it later, what harm was done? they learned some coping mechanisms? they made some nd friends? neither of those are problematic and i think they’re both actually very helpful. i think nt people SHOULD learn more about nd people and stuff because i think that will lead to WAYYY less misunderstandings and WAYYYY less ableism

“There are many people who fake nds for attention,”

hey anon, what fucking world do you live in that nd’s are cool enough to fake having? because i would LOVE to live there. like, i literally had a post about my personality disorder (which i will not be specifying) i had to delete because people were sending my anons about how i was “scary” and “threatening” now that they knew i had the personality disorder i have. last year i left a discord server because the ableism i was recieving from not only the members of the server, but the mods as well. there are very few people i know irl who i tell about my personality disorder, but when i tell people about my adhd, they start treating me different. they infantalize me and make fun of me and use “jokes” about stereotypical adhd behaviors to alienate me and they even TELL OTHER PEOPLE without my permission. i was SEVERELY bullied throughout elementary and middle school for being nd. i have been refused job and educational opportunities as well as literal medical attention for being nd. people aren’t “faking” being nd, and if they were they probably wouldn’t be doing it for long because it’s not something that’s EASY to deal with.

kinda ironic that you’re saying people can’t diagnose themselves but that YOU can tell when someone is faking their diagnosis. that’s both hypocritical and a double standard.

masking exists. if you think someone isn’t “acting nd enough” they’re probably masking because they’ve been fucking bullied and harrassed. also you’re probably basing whatever you think nd is on stereotypes. not every nd person is sheldon cooper lol.

this is a side note but can we talk about how you’re literally just taking transmed rhetoric and molding it to fit nd people? like. you really come onto MY NONBINARY NEURODIVERGENT blog and expect me to validate your recycled “but what about the REAL [insert group] people?” ??? like grow up, elitist. you’re not better than anyone else just because you lick some boots 🥾 👅

“and claiming that self diagnosis (and this is just what I interpreted) is just as valid as professional diagnosis”

it is 😌

the only difference between self diagnosis and professional diagnosis is that a professional diagnosis can also get you medicine. not every neurodivergency needs meds and not every neurodivergency can be treated (at this time or even ever). for example, my pd (self diagnosed) doesn’t have a specific treatment but multiple symptoms of the pd (all professionally diagnosed) have specific treatments and medicines that work, so patients are given/diagnosed with/prescribed those instead. also, medicine doesn’t work for everyone! and sometimes people are allergic to or take medicines that will conflict with any new medicine.

“can really devalue the account of someone who actually has a disorder”

here we go again with that “self diagnosed” vs “actually nd” bullshit. literally just say you hate poor people n minorities and leave lol

someone having a different experience than you isn’t devaluing you, but if you’re the one who always has the spotlight maybe you should use your privledge uplift other marginalized people instead of feeling angry when everything isn’t all about you 100% of the time

“I have a second ask”

i don’t want it

“Plus it can be damaging for a person if they self diagnose wrong.”

how? what if they learn information that they wouldn’t’ve otherwise known like coping mechanisms that help them with their own neurodivergencies? that’s definitely not a bad thing

i think it’s funny that you bring up that people can self diagnose wrong and don’t even MENTION that doctors can diagnose wrong. like. you know. the people who GIVE OUT MEDICINE to people. i think it’s MUCH more dangerous when a PROFESSIONAL diagnosis is wrong. what are self-dx people with wrong diagnoses gonna do? read up on nd tips? maybe smoke some weed? drink some coffee? that’s about all they can do with a self-dx. but if a MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL gives you an INCORRECT diagnosis, they can ACTUALLY fuck you up.

“I was recently diagnosed with PTSD, a disorder which I would have never considered I’d have.”

that’s great about your professional diagnosis! i don’t know you but i’m glad you’re finding out about yourself and getting the help you want and/or need /srs

sorry if this sounds blunt, but honestly i’m not surprised you never considered you could have PTSD. based on your asks, you sound like you have a lot of internalized ableism you need to work through and a lot more research about neurodiversity you need to do. being anti-self diagnosis is a common belief among a lot of people with internalized ableism and a lot of these same people are the ones who have no issue with and even SUPPORT auti$m $peaks. many nd organizations that are run BY nd people (like asan) actually support self-dx.

“If I had of diagnosed my own symptoms and then started treating myself or taking precautions based on my self diagnosed "condition", it could of really hurt me.”

how? taking precautions to preserve your mental health is NEVER a bad idea. i’m not ptsd, but someone i care deeply about DOES have ptsd and has shared a lot of the precautions and coping mechanisms for ptsd with me and honestly they’ve been incredibly helpful. it’s almost as if different neurodivergencies and/or mental illnesses have overlap and that’s why there’s a whole community for us to be able to share these resources and information with each other!

the same person was rejected a formal autism diagnosis because of their ptsd, plus the fact that they’re transgender and the fact they have symptoms of adhd. it’s not really my place to talk about their experience with professional diagnosis, but i’ll send this post to them and allow them to add on their experience in a rb if they’re comfortable with that. but it’s almost as if their experience with the professional diagnosis process was unhelpful, harmful, ableist, and transphobic 🧐 and unfortunately this is a pretty common experience

“Also, by self diagnosing, I devalue the account of a person with the disorder l assumed I had.”

how? if someone thinks they’re nd, they have a legitimate reason for thinking so. either they have another neurodivergency than the one they thought they had, or they’re neurotypical and need to figure themself out and have a need for support. either way, they learned more about the specific neurodivergency, more about the nd community, and more about themself. i don’t see how that’s a bad thing.

if you think self-diagnosed people’s experiences inherently have less value, that is straight up ableism. especially considering that other marginalized identities and minorities have trouble getting professional diagnoses, you might also be bigoted in some other way. or at the very least, refusing to acknowledge your privilege.

“only one more I promise”

i don’t want it

“I understand that doctors are expensive and professionals can get it wrong,”

okay. if you understand this, then dm me your information so i can bill you for the cost of my professional diagnoses, the cost for my therapy sessions, the cost for my medicine, and the cost for transportation to and from all these places. PLUS the cost of the work and school i’ll be missing for these sessions. 🤲

“but self diagnosis can be really harmful to yourself or others.”

nah, you’re just ableist and a gatekeeper lol

“If you feel like you have a disorder, go see a psychiatrist, you may have it.”

[remembers when i went to a psychiatrist who diagnosed me with two major symptoms of a personality disorder and said i had other symptoms of the pd as well but refused to diagnose me with the actual personality disorder because i was a minor at the time and he told me “kids don’t have personalities so they can’t have personality disorders”. i understand being weary about diagnosing children with personality disorders because they aren’t fully developed but this dude straight up told me that i didn’t have a personality. this man literally only worked with children so that means he literally never diagnosed personality disorders. this man was literally just lazy and didn’t care about his patients. this man also refused to believe me when i told him the medicine he prescribed me made my symptoms worse and even made me hallucinate. he ignored me and refused to change my medicine so eventually i just changed psychiatrists and they put me on a new medicine that DIDNT make my symptoms worse and DIDNT make me hallucinate. also i looked it up after our session and apparently ONLY people with my pd and related ones experience hallucinations on that certain medication. it’s almost like his refusal to diagnose me and ignoring my symptoms/concerns harmed me. this man also constantly misgendered me and told me that homosexuality and transgenderism should’ve still been in the dsm. like golly, it’s almost as if being queer and neurodivergent in an extremely conservative state is harmful and dangerous. and that psychiatrists aren’t immune from being homophobic and transphobic and ableist.] but yes :) perhaps i should see another psychiatrist in this conservative state :)

“I don't want to undermine anyone's actual experiences, but it can be dangerous.”

then stop undermining people’s actual experiences :)

no ❤️

“If you feel like something's wrong, go see a professional.”

the whole point of the neurodiversity movement is that there IS no such thing as a “normal” brain, so saying that neurodivergent people have something “wrong” with them is ableist.

💰 🤲 hand it over

“I don't want to offend, I just don't want anyone to get mislead or hurt. :)”

you absolutely meant to offend. you literally said that self-diagnosed people’s experiences aren’t valid and have less value than people who have professional diagnoses

i know more people who have been (and personally have been) mislead and hurt by professionals than by simply existing as a self-diagnosed person

also i want to say that being pro-self dx is NOT being anti-professional/formal diagnosis. i think that people should absolutely get a professional diagnosis (if they are able to without negative repercussions)! being pro-self dx is more inclusive of marginalized people (like people of color, women, lgbtq+ people, people with multiple disabilities, etc). pro-self dx is simply just saying that professional diagnosis isn’t the only option

(neurotypical people and anti-self dx people don’t add anything; pro-self dx neurodivergent people are allowed to add with their experiences if they want)

[fandompitfalls]

Prodigal Son and why Living Shouldn't Be Controversial

Originally posted 1/27/2021

After my last post I wasn’t sure what I would write about.  Several of my upcoming posts are research intensive and potentially controversial so as far as I’ve gotten on them was to put them in my book for blog post ideas and that’s about it.

And then Season Two of Prodigal Son aired. So what am I doing?  A research (not so intensive) and potentially controversial post.  At least I’m on brand.

For those who don’t really know the show: In its second season Prodigal Son is the story of ex-FBI profiler Malcolm Bright who was fired for his risk-taking habits and came back to the NYPD at the request of Captain Gil Arroyo.  Malcolm Bright is also Malcolm Whitly, the son of the influential and extremely wealthy Whitley family.  The Patriarch of the Whitly family, Dr. Martin Whitly, a convicted serial killer known as “the Surgeon”, is currently in a secure psychiatric facility. His son Malcolm put him there.  Malcolm now works for the NYPD under Gil’s team that includes Detectives JT Tarmel, and Detective Dani Powell and Medical Examiner Edrisa Tanaka. While not solving crimes, Malcom must deal with his tenacious television reporter sister Ainsley Whitly and their wealthy, hovering mother Jessica Whitly.  As well as his father who is trying to make his way back into his family’s life via Malcolm by assisting via telephone with certain cases.

Except for the Whitly’s (who while wealthy are probably not very good role models), the entire main cast is made up of people of color:  Filipino, Black, Asian.  While the first season was introductions to everyone and dealing with Malcolm’s lost memories regarding his father, the father/ son dynamic, cultivating a loyal fanbase and potentially starting some ships both purposefully and accidentally (I’m looking at you Brightwell and Maldrisa shippers), this second season started off with a bang.  Something that might have been relegated to a side plot, I feel, had become larger than this season’s overarching plot and will end up and absolutely deserved to be in equal standing.

In the first season, we are introduced to JT, the by the book detective who doesn’t like Bright in the beginning but by the end of the first season, they’re…okay. We also meet JT frankly adorable wife Tally and discover that he’s going to be a dad.

In season two, months have passed, and JT is acting Captain while Gil is out on medical leave.  He brings Bright in on a case involving a justice killer. At the end while back up is being sent to Bright’s apartment for the final conflict, Dani rushes up while backup is on its way and JT is right behind her.  He arrives moments before the back up and when they arrive, he directs them up to the apartment.  What happens instead is something we’ve all seen on the news this past summer. The first cop that arrives tackles JT and presses him against the wall, baton at his throat telling him to stop resisting.  The terror in JT’s eyes is startling as he realized that these officers, the one holding him and the other five who have their guns trained on him are not going to let him explain that he’s a cop.  It isn’t until Dani runs out holding her badge and Malcom following close behind, both of them yelling to stand down, that he’s a cop does the office let go of JT and step back.  Back at the station, Gil is furious and wants to take it to I.A., but JT insists it won’t do any good and he needs to think about it.  He has a family now and he doesn’t want the retaliation.  The scene ends with Gil, Dani and Bright supporting his decision and telling him they have his back.  JT is emotional and for good reason.  The people who are supposed to be working with him just tried to kill him.

Episode two didn’t let up; in the middle of a chase, Gil tells JT to call for back up and what happens is enraging.  As JT calls on his police issued walkie for backup, the person manning the other end tells him that the line if for police use only and uses the term “boy” before disconnecting.  Later, it shows JT and Dani standing outside the office watching Gil yell at the dispatch for not sending officers for a potential hostile situation.  JT decides to not file a report mentioning that he has a family to worry about and he must work with these people. It is harassment and emotional terrorism at its worst.

In the first episode this season, Dani and Bright are talking and Dani mentions the institutionalized racism she’s been dealing with. With this show being categorized as a police procedural, showing this sort of dangerous institutional racism within the police force is both tricky and important.  While police shows have mentioned an episode or two of racism within the force, it’s usually an episode and the one bad cop is taken to task by the white Captain and the entire thing is brushed over.  The good thing about this show is so far, all the people in power we’ve seen on the force have been people of color.  It also makes it harder to pull the “white savior” role as Bright, while on the team, has no real standing with the NYPD and could be kicked off cases in a heartbeat. Jessica, with all of her wealth and ties (or not, make up your mind Jess) to Gil, can’t really do anything expect throw money at the issue.  The brunt of the conflict will lie between Gil and his team facing the police force including these cops who “are just doing their job” and the veil of secrecy that lies within the Thin Blue Line. It’s not something that can be erased in a five-episode arc and I really hope it’s not.  The racism within the department has been established, it can’t be erased with the firing of the cop who attacked JT and it can’t be addressed with the Commissioner coming in to make everyone go to training to make it all magically go away.

The showrunners spent the entire first season introducing us and making us love these characters and given the current climate of the world, this was a bold and correct decision, one that needed to be addressed.  I know there is talk on message board stating that this season is too “political”.  Black Lives Matter, is not political, institutionalized racism within the police force is not political. Men and women of color that are on police forces are risking their lives to do good and make streets safer and do not deserve to wonder if they’re going to take “friendly” fire from one of their own.  This year we’ve heard too many stories of officers who were threatened out of uniform and officers who spoke up only to be removed from duty. This isn’t a new thing. Nobody should be murdered for living their lives, for sleeping, for complying with proper police requests.

Personally, as a white person, watching these scenes hurt.  Watching JT’s reactions hurt. Hearing someone who was supposed to have his back use a term that has racist undertones when said as it was, made me furious.  Which is what it’s supposed to do.  But this is also a dangerous road the showrunners are taking.  There is no clean and easy way out of this, to have it discussed and “fixed” isn’t reasonable nor believable anymore, to ignore it after three episodes isn’t doing it justice. I don’t know how this will turn out, but it absolutely needs to be addressed this season.  To the extent of having it a plot equal to Malcom’s covering up a murder and hiding the body without getting caught.

If you want more information or want to get involved, please look at the websites linked. It shouldn’t take a television show to spread awareness, but if it does, so much the better. People are starting to get involved with activism because media and it’s good (sometimes).  Television should start a conversation, that’s when it’s working best.

[dontmindmyshadowhunting]

Am I forgotten ? (KitTy Fan Fic)

KitTy fan fic based on Kit and Ty’s flower cards (art by Cassandra Jean), to celebrate both the release of Ty’s latest flower card and Kitty’s appreciation week!

If you prefer reading it on AO3 or if you have missed the previous chapters, Link is here. AO3 Link - Am I forgotten?

Following Chapter is Chapter 6 - Lex malla, lex nulla

Kit and Ty did not make it far, as three Faeries suddenly appeared before them, blocking their path. As it was the case for Ty, to stay they stood out of the crowd was an understatement. The one standing in the middle was the tallest and the most elegantly clad. Dark velvet clothes with fine embroidery hugged the shapes of his lean body, the symbol of a broken crown visible on his silk shirt. He had long silvery blond hair framing his narrow face and tucked behind his pointy ears, and his deep blue eyes seemed to hold centuries of life in this world. He would have been stunning if not for the permanent scowl on his face. The other two, flanking him, had long dark hair and looked so alike they might have been twins. It was clear from their stance that they were Faerie knights.

Ty turned to Kit and whispered urgently. “That’s him. I need to interrogate him. Preferably without his two bodyguards.”

“Well met,” Kit said in his most cheerful voice.

“Well met,” the blond Faerie replied. “It seems as though you have lost your way.”

“Wrong,” Kit said. “I was lost, but I have been found.”

Ty shot him a disapproving look. The Faerie lifted a silvery eyebrow.

Kit dropped Ty’s hand to move his arm behind his back, slowly tracing his fingers along Ty’s side down to his hip until they finally rested on Ty’s… buttocks. He gently squeezed for added effect. God, how perfect. Ty startled, his eyes widening and his lips parting in shock, but made no further move. He was staring straight ahead, as if he could not bear to meet Kit’s eyes. A deep red had started to spread across his cheeks towards his temples.

The Faerie’s eyes had not missed the gesture and the scowl vanished from his face from one moment to another.

“Let me guess,” he said, his gaze moving between Kit and Ty. A genuine smile spread across his face. “You two are only here to have a good time.”

“Wrong again. We were here to have a good time, but my boyfriend is not feeling well. This place is too noisy, too… crowded. We are leaving.”

“Are you now?” The Faerie said, lifting both his eyebrows. His eyes, glittering with interest, were now roaming over Kit’s body. “The night is still young, and so are you. May I offer you some refreshments in a more private venue?”

Kit plastered a hesitant look on his face. “We are far from home. It would be nice if we could get our bearings before we leave.” The Faerie’s smile grew wider and, without a word, he whirled and started to move gracefully towards the back of the club, flanked by his two bodyguards. Kit and Ty followed.

“So, who is this guy?” Kit whispered in Ty’s ear, after - regretfully - dropping his arm from his back.

“A Faerie Prince. One of King Kieran’s many brothers. He was very close to the late King Arawn once.”

“Wow, wait a minute- a Prince ? How many laws are we planning to break tonight?”

“Twenty-seven,” Ty replied without blinking.

Kit whistled.  

Ty turned to him, his eyes glittering, and the corner of his mouth lifted mischievously. “Lex malla, lex nulla,” he said in a deep, low voice. Kit couldn’t help but stare at Ty, at the way his soft lips shaped the words, gently pressing around the “M”, at the way his tongue rolled in his mouth at the “Ls”.

He had always thought Ty was beautiful, but right now the word that popped in his mind was HOT. So freaking HOT.

Tiberius Nero Blackthorn, you naughty boy.

“What about your vows as a Centurion?” Kit asked when he had regained his composure.

“A good Centurion once told me that vows of friendship… and love are stronger.”

Did Kit imagine the way Ty put an emphasis on the word love ?

****

They were seated in a very large high-ceilinged room, with no windows save for a glass roof through which one could see New York’s night sky.

A vampire waitress came in carrying flutes of champagne and presented them to Kit and Ty. They both declined.

“I am fine,” said the Faerie Prince, when she offered him a drink. He didn’t even bother to look up at her. His gaze was fixed on Kit and Ty, and a small smile was playing across his face, as if he were enjoying a private joke. “I am already drunk with the sexual tension between these two.”

Kit couldn’t help but look over at Ty, and their eyes met for a second before they both swiftly glanced away.

“The two of you haven’t done the deed yet, have you?” The Faerie Prince’s eyes were now sparkling with excitement. “When you do..." He opened both his hands and spread his long fingers wide, mimicking an explosion... or was it fireworks? "I am willing to pay a fortune to witness that. Name your price.”

Kit glanced at the bodyguards. They were looking at Kit and Ty with a stern expression on their faces, as if it hadn’t all been a show. It had been a joke, right? But… Faeries didn’t lie.

Kit stood. “Can we have a moment alone together? Just you and me.” He looked pointedly at the bodyguards. “I would prefer to discuss... the terms, privately.”

As if they had received a signal, the two knights started to move to stand before the Prince, who lifted his hand in a halting gesture as he paused to consider. They both froze.

Kit seized the opportunity. With slow, deliberate movements, he started to take his jacket off. He threw it on the nearest armchair. “You will see that I am unarmed.” He took his shirt off next, the muscles of his arms flexing as he lifted it leisurely over his head. When he was half naked, he spread his arms wide. “You can ask your knights to check the rest if you don’t believe me. I have nothing to hide.”

They did. As their hands moved over Kit’s body in search of weapons, Ty tensed. He was watching their every move, his fiery gaze fixed on their hands, as if he could burn a hole through them.

“Leave us,” said the Faerie Prince when they were done.

Ty rose from his armchair and moved to stand before Kit, his back to the Faerie Prince.

“Kit- I don't like this plan,” he said in a hushed, urgent voice. Kit noticed with a pang that he had started stroking his pendant again.

“Ty- Please, trust me. I know what I’m doing,” Kit replied.

Ty held Kit’s gaze for a moment, searching his eyes. Kit tried very hard to convey a message of confidence he wasn’t sure he really had.

Ty finally gave him a curt, stiff nodd. As he moved past Kit, the back of their hands brushed, sending an electric current through Kit’s entire body.

Kit didn’t trust himself not to go running to Ty, so he stared straight ahead until he heard the door close behind him.

When they were alone, the Faerie Prince rose from his chair. “Finally."

In two strides of his long legs, he had joined Kit and stood before him, so close Kit could feel his breath over his skin. He smelled of cloves. The Prince lifted his hands to place them on each of Kit’s biceps.

“You love him,” he said without preamble.

Kit swallowed hard. “Is it that obvious?”

“The question you are asking yourself is, does he love you?”

“I know he doesn’t.” Kit tried to hide the despair in his voice but failed miserably.

The Faerie Prince lifted his silver eyebrows. “You know? Are you so powerful as to be able to read one’s heart?”

“He said as much. Or at least, that's what his words suggested. I don’t want to talk about it.” Kit had no intention to share his deepest feelings with a mere stranger. A Faerie Prince at that. There’s nothing if you aren’t there. Words meant for Livvy alone and no one else, especially not Kit. After all these years, they still stung as if they were new. A raw pain for an old wound.

“You make an interesting couple, the two of you,” said the Faerie after a moment. “The Shadowhunter who looks like a Faerie and... the Faerie who looks like a Shadowhunter.”

Kit gasped audibly. The Prince’s hands were now moving in circles over Kit’s bare chest, smooth fingers caressing his skin.

“You thought I would not be able to recognize my own kin? My own blood? I see him in you, you know… My father.”

Kit was unable to move, staring in shock as the Faerie’s long fingers started tracing the shapes of his abs. Distantly, he thought he heard the door open and close. The sound was so muted he wasn’t sure he hadn’t imagined it.

“Tell me, Christopher Herondale, who are you loyal to? Your royal blood family? Or your adoptive family?”

Tessa. Jem. Mina. Kit came to his senses and clenched his fists. He knew he didn’t need weapons to fight. The Prince would never know what had hit him. Kit would avoid knocking him out, of course, as Ty needed to interrogate him.

“I tend to stick with those trying to protect me instead of those trying to kill me. That’s how boring I am.”

As it turned out, Kit didn’t even have to lift a finger.

It all happened in a blur. The Faerie Prince’s hands which had moved over Kit's biceps suddenly froze, and his lips parted in shock. Ty had appeared behind him, as swift as a shadow, and was grasping a knife whose silvery blade was pressed against his throat. Ty’s hands were covered in blood… Probably from the two knights.

“I would have a few questions to ask you,” Ty said. His tone was as cold as ice. “But first... take your hands off my boyfriend, before I separate them from your body.”

*****

Tagging @arangiajoan @nenyx @naerysthelonesome @adoravel-fenomeno @unorganisedbookshelf @blindbandit1515 @whyhastgodfarsakenme @noah-herondale-lightwood @georgiaherondale @nicotheangel17 @joonjxne @that-dreamer-girl-m @mariiaarranz @writeforjordelia @shadowfae1878 @majollica-blog @mferraz @darkkitai @justanothermultifandomgirl @kitty-appreciation-week @gabtapia 

[moonblssm]

everyday job au | seo changbin

listen to — Pink Lemonade by The Wombats

chan | minho | CHANGBIN | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin

、 special trainer!changbin

you hated it

having a concussion was the worst if you were an athelete

for a few weeks, you were stuck resting - no exercising or working out at all - instead of playing the sport you loved so much

how were your supposed to keep in shape for the tournament in two months?

the doctor had just cleared you a week ago, but you were eager to start your volleyball training

you hit the park and the gym the next day, only to find that your mile time had an additional twenty seconds and you had to decrease the amount of weight to use

your form wasn’t the same as it was before your concussion, so you for sure had to fix that in time

it felt useless, but you refused to lose hope, so you called a mutual friend of yours

changbin had been your favorite coworker bang chan’s workout buddy for as long as knew him

he had offered to be a personal trainer after he overheard you talking to chan about not knowing how to balance your workout schedule and volleyball practice

so even though you only hung out with him when chan was around, you texted changbin in the rarely used chat room he started when he was asking you if he left his water bottle in your car (you had given him a ride hone when his car was in the shop)

the first session didn’t go very well, but overtime, changbin learned the limits you had and the aspects you had to work on

he also learned that he liked you a lot more than he thought he did when he saw you trying to challenge yourself with the workouts

ever since the two of you stopped for a short snack at one of the night markets and you told yourself that the spiciness of the stew was okay for you - even though it obviously wasn’t but you looked cute convincing yourself - he found every single thing you did endearing

you and changbin got a lot closer after just a few days, and even chan noticed when he got back

his hand seemed to linger over you whenever he had to fix your form, and you often caught him looking at you when you got food afterwards

he also found you beautiful even when you looked exhausted after your workouts together

what he didn’t learn until a few weeks later, was how badass you looked playing your sport

but also how much he didn’t knew he actually cared about you

a few weeks after you got back to your usual performance, chan brought him and a bunch of his friends to your tournament

none of them wanted to bother you as you were warming up, so they took their seats in the bleachers, eager to watch you play

you don’t realize they’re there until the first break you have, when you nearly choke on your water seeing a group of loud boys taking up a good chunk of the bleachers at the edge of the playing space

you give them a wave as you take a sip of your water, meeting changbin’s gaze as you close the cap

he smiles at you, laughing at your shock, before giving you a wink and sending you off to go rejoin your teammates with a nod

several minutes later, you’re already on the court, diving for the ball or hitting the shit out of it to get past the blockers

changbin’s jaw hangs open whenever you do anything remotely cool, and jisung has to remind his older friend that he should stop staring whenever you go serve

everything’s going well until the second set

you’re covering your team’s middle blocker as they go up to hit, completely disregarding the possibility that it’ll hit off the blockers hand and back onto your court

and it’s too late when you realize it because it that fact doesn’t go through your head until the ball is coming towards your head

.....the same head that had just fully recovered from a concussion a few weeks ago

“oh shit!” is all that leaves changbin’s lips.

your concussion was big news so when the ball comes in contact with your body, everything goes silent

the only thing heard in the stadium are gasps, a whistle, and someone running down the bleachers?

you on the other hand, are only focused on the sound of the security guards trying to prevent someone from getting onto the court but alas they fail

you hadn’t even realized you fell onto on the floor until you feel someone sitting you up and letting you lean back against their arm

“why am i on the floor?”

“y/n...you just got hit in the head! again!”

“what? no i didn’t.”

changbin, in his head: ‘oh my god she can’t even differentiate her body parts.’

“that’s it, i’m taking you to the hospital.”

“changbin, i promise you i’m fine! it hit my shoulder!”

changbin’s nerves ease, but that doesn’t prevent him from doing a whole ass check up on you

right in the middle of the court

completely disregarding that you were flirting with each other in the middle of a game

sooner than later though, the coach ushers the two of you off the court, subbing someone in so that you can really double check that nothing bruised your brain again

your teammates don’t even try to hide the wink they send changbin when they suggest that he should be the one to take you to the first aid station at the tournament convention center

one of them even goes as far as to mentioning that you might get dizzy and lose your balance so you should hold onto changbin’s hand just in case

in the moment, you’re glaring at them and shaking your head for them to stop

but you can’t even complain as he continues to hold your hand as you sit on the chair to wait for the nurse to print out a concussion symptom checklist sheet

“wait, did you really care about me that much to come flying down the stairs and jumping over the blockade?”

changbin only flushes, shrinking into himself when he feels your eyes on him

“i care about you enough that i’ll do anything to make sure you’re always okay.”

a/n: omg hello there~ it’s been so long since i posted an actual fic or imagine oh my goodness but i figured that since it is binnie’s birthday today, it’s the perfect timing to finally finish his part of the everyday job au!! i have no idea what happened to any of my ideas or motivation to write but it’s slowly coming back since i don’t want this blog to die 😭 but i hope you guys enjoy this one! i actually struggle so much with writing changbin.

hyunjin is next!! and don’t worry, you don’t have to wait until march 20th for his (i’m so sorry).

anyway, happy birthday to the coolest dude i know!! love you changbin!

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hey steph!! This might be a specific ask but could u like recommend me some fic thats like slow burn, unresolved sexual tension, and some bottomlock. And please please please let it be long so that it hits the sweet spot of satisfying your fic needs but also not stupidly long. Also I love your blog

Hi Lovely!!

AHHHH I’m glad you enjoy!! I try my best, LOL. 

AHH I’ve SO MANY slow burn fics, it’s ridiculous, and I do have separate lists for bottomlock, so I can direct you to those.... BUT I DON’T HAVE A LIST FOR MY U.S.T. FICS YES. So can I do that??? Please??? ANY EXCUSE TO START A NEW LIST :| Hee hee. Forgive me??? 

AND as per usual, all my fics are in word-count order, so you can start at the bottom and work your way up, hee hee. CHEERS!

As usual, add your own, friends!!

First, here’s the lists you asked for:

Love Confessions / Slow Burn / Dev. Rel. (Fluff Version)

Falling In Love / Slow Burn / Dev. Rel. || [MOBILE POST] (April 2019)

Platonics & Domestics Pt 2 / Hugs, Cuddles & Kisses Pt. 3 / Tooth-Rotting Fluff Pt. 5 / Love Confessions, Slow Burn & Dev. Rel. Pt. 2 / Established Relationship Pt. 3

Slow Burn / Dev. Rel. / Falling in Love Pt. 3 (Nov. 2019) 

Slow Burn / Dev Rel. Pt. 4 (Apr 2020)

Bottomlock (April 2019)

Bottomlock Pt 2

And now, check out my UST/URT list :)

UNRESOLVED SEXUAL / ROMANTIC TENSION

The Other Shoe by thewaitwasworthitlove - (NR, 1,053 w., 1 Ch. || Pining Sherlock, Angst, URT, Post-TSo3) - Sherlock realizes how deep in love he has fallen for John. Only Sherlock Holmes would manage to be more shattered than crystal dropped on concrete.

Clarity by socomessnow (thoughtfulwishing) (NR, 1,283 w., 1 Ch. || Post-HLV, POV Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Tarmac Scene, Stream of Consciousness, URT, First Person Present Tense, Implied/Referenced Drug Use) - During-and-post-HLV piece tracking Sherlock’s thought process from his phone call with Mycroft to his return to the airfield. Part 1 of Rifts

Untouchable by greengrapegaze (T, 1,368 w., 1 Ch. || Pre-S3, UST/URT, Oblivious John, Lonely Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Emotional Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Pining Sherlock) – “He never would. Petty, childish, immature-bitter. Jealous. She had all that he wanted. All he could never have.” Part 1 of Steps to a Bittersweet Symphony

Love Hurts by Grac3 (T, 2,215 w., 1 Ch. || Magical Realism, Pining Sherlock, One-Sided Pining / URT, Sherlock / John Whump, Angst, Ambiguous Ending) – In a world where someone's physical injuries manifest themselves on the person who is in love with them, John didn't think that there would ever be anyone who was willing to risk falling in love with him - until he got shot on a case, and it didn't hurt. Unrequited Johnlock.

The Dance Lesson by bittergreens (G, 4,596 w., 1 Ch. || TSo3 Missing Scene, Dancing, Pining Sherlock, URT/UST, Romance, Angst, POV John) – Sherlock teaches John to dip. Part 1 of Goodnight, Vienna

There's Something Living in These Lines by teahigh (orphan_account) (M, 4,676 w., 1 Ch. || Mutual Pining, Love Letters, Angst, Mutual Pining, UST / URT, Dirty Talk) – Two men, complete opposites in almost every way, who speak only in letters and pages torn from books.

You Can't Always Get What You Want by hubblegleeflower (E, 4,804 w., 1 Ch. || Pining, Sexual Tension, UST / RST, First Time) – John wants. He always has, but now that he's living with Sherlock again, it's all he can do to hold it back. And Sherlock isn't helping...

Wasted Hours by songlin (E, 4,973 w., 1 Ch. || Omegaverse || O!John/A!Sherlock, Pining, UST, Angst & Porn) – John is respectful. John keeps his distance. He doesn’t look at Sherlock when Sherlock decides trousers are for dull people. He doesn’t breathe in and savor it when Sherlock flings himself onto the couch first thing in the morning, wafting alpha scent, dressing gown settling around him in a cloud of blue silk. He doesn’t linger when he’s piecing Sherlock back together after a fight, even though he’s half-dressed and beautiful and right there. He can ignore it. He can control it.

Captain John Watson, Genetics, and Other Crazy Things by cyerus (M, 5,581 w., 1 Ch. || Torchwood Crossover ||  Humour / Crack, Jealous Sherlock, Sexual Magnet John, Captain John, UST / RST, Three Continents Watson) – The explanation for John "Three Continents" Watson? Jack Harkness is his father. Sherlock doesn't know whether he's going to die from jealousy or sexual frustration first.

No Light, No Light (in your bright blue eyes) by orphan_account (G, 5,915 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Pining, Songfic, Mutual Unrequited Love, Unresolved Tension, UST/URT) ��� Relates to both Sherlock's and John's feelings for each other and highlights select moments of hurt and inner turmoil starting from right before the fall all the way to HLV.

Drawstring by May_Shepard (E, 7,412 w., 1 Ch. || Post S3/TAB, Friends to Lovers, UST/RST, Fluff and Smut, Post-TAB, John POV, Sherlock’s Pyjamas, Rimming, Wanking) – John is bothered by Sherlock’s slowly-falling jim-jams… as in hot and bothered and he is trying to deal with a sexy dishevelled Sherlock while also keeping his pining in check.

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.”

Alone On the Water by Mad_Lori (G, 7,725 w., 1 Ch. || MCD, UST/URT, Angst, Euthanasia, Love Confessions) – Sherlock Holmes never expected to live a long life, but he never imagined that it would end like this.

All the Times Something ALMOST Happened by allonsys_girl (T, 9,049 w., 6 Ch. || POV Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Canon Compliant, Angst, Friendship/Love, UST) – John and Sherlock dancing around what they dance around in canon.

Someone I Love by hudders-and-hiddles (M, 10,002 w., 2 Ch. || Canon Compliant, HLV-Filler Fic, Pre-Slash, Jealous John, PIning Sherlock, Angst & Fluff, UST/URT, Dog Tags) – John gets married and Sherlock finds comfort in wearing John's identity tags around his wrist.

Ravish Me by amalnahurriyeh (E, 10,025 w., 1 Ch. || UST / RST, Makeup / Lipstick, Sympathetic Sally, Experiments, Pining John, First Kiss, Face Fucking / BJ’s, Cuddling) – Sherlock is experimenting with patterns of wear on lipstick in daily encounters. John is going to go insane.

Their Great Reward by BeautifulFiction (T, 10,095 w., 1 Ch. || UST, First Kiss, Fluff) – Boxing day, in John's opinions, is the worst day of the year. Christmas is over, the tree is wilting and stripped of gifts, and there's a week of dead-time until the clean slate of the new year. However the combination of a blizzard, a power-cut and Sherlock might just make it a day to remember.

The Five Stages of Mourning, Plus One by SunnyRea (T, 10,557 w., 1 Ch. || MCD, Pining / Grieving Sherlock, URT, Heavy Angst, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Drug Use, Graphic Death, Depression, Unhappy Ending) – Sherlock did not want this, did not want another stalemate with John in the middle, a gun in Jim's hand. This cannot have happened without a sign. There has to be something he missed anything which said today is the day I kill for real.

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder by cypress_tree (E, 10,669 w., 1 Ch. || UST/RST, For an Experiment) – John helps Sherlock with an experiment: for an entire month, they are not allowed to touch each other and must remain at least one metre apart at all times.

I'm content as we are (but) by inqui (The_Circus) (E, 13,086 w., 1 Ch. || Jealous John, UST/RST, Pining, Victor Trevor, Minor Whump, First Kiss / Time, Misunderstandings) – In which John Watson sees something unusual, becomes jealous, and makes too much of a small thing as an old friend of Sherlock's shows up in the middle of a case.

Say For Me, Love by MirabileLectu (T, 13,147 w., 1 Ch. || UST, First Kiss, Drama, Pining John, Victor Trevor) – If you had asked John this morning what the result of his quiet afternoon at home would be, discovering a truth about Sherlock's past startling enough to shift the foundations of their friendship would not have been his first guess. So naturally, that was what was bound to happen.

Barricade by stitchy (M, 14,127 w., 1 Ch. || HLV Fix It, Friends to Lovers, Angst, Happy Ending, UST, Mary’s Not Nice, First Time, Pining Sherlock, Time Skip Filler, Drunkenness) – Sherlock has been struggling to keep his feelings at bay for everyone's sake. Part 1 of Barricade

Second Chance by SilentAuror (E, 15,816 w., 1 Ch. || Post-HLV, Post-Divorce, Friends to Lovers, UST, Romance) – Now that John's divorce has gone through and the dust is settling, Sherlock thinks that he would very much like to see if there is any possibility of moving their friendship in another direction. The only thing is, he has no idea how to go about doing that...

Anytime by SilentAuror (E, 17,995 w., 1 Ch. || UST, Porn With Feels, POV Sherlock, Romance, UST/URT, Happy Ending, Drunken Endeavours) – Sherlock blinks and attempts to focus. There is a little too much vodka in his veins at the moment and it’s having an unfortunate effect on his brain and retinas both. There are two Johns sitting across from him, and both of them are frowning at him. “You’re drunk,” the Johns tell him. Sherlock blinks some more. “Says the man with Mrs Hudson’s doily on his head.”

John Watson doesn't have a Boyfriend by naughtyspirit (E, 18,932 w., 7 Ch. || UST / URT, Fluff & Smut, Voyeurism, Masturbation) – John's date has gone very well. Sherlock requires tea. John wishes he hadn't resolved that their relationship was strictly hands off and isn't about to address it. Unless he has to. Smut, fluff and shower time for a naked John Watson.

For you, there's only me by shock_blanket (E, 19,557 w., 7 Ch. || Jealous Idiots, Virgin Sherlock, UST/RST, Pining, Miscommunication, First Kiss / Time, Insecure Sherlock, Masturbation) – Sherlock realizes he has fallen in love with John, but believes he is unlovable. Cue lots of pining and jealousy on Sherlock's part, followed by our favorite cuddly marksman making it all better. Because for Sherlock, there's only John.

Love Is by SilentAuror (E, 21,508 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, UST / URT, Post HLV, Romance) – At Mrs Hudson’s urging, Sherlock finally decides to tell John how he feels about him. Part 1 of Love Is

Brief Conversations with the Woman by May_Shepard (E, 21,906 w., 20 Ch. || Pining, Love Fairy Irene, Filler Fic, UST/URT, Drug Use, Clueless Sherlock, Relationship Advice, Angst w/ Happy Ending) – Sherlock has a puzzle to solve, and his name is John Watson.

Sonatina in G Minor by SilentAuror (E, 22,574 w., 1 Ch. || Case Fic, POV Sherlock, Angst, UST, Sherlock’s Violin, Post-S3, Romance) – John has come back to Baker Street, but Sherlock doesn't understand the strange tension between them, even after he begins teaching John to play the violin at John's request.

Knotted by naughtyspirit (E, 23,166 w., 4 Ch. || UST/URT, Cuddling, Sharing Body Heat, Confessions, Kissing, Masturbation, Frustration, BAMF!John) – John has to cancel a date because of Sherlock's case, which leads them to be tied up in a basement from which they have to escape. They get wet, get tied up close and John has to step up and save them. Because he's pretty. And hot. And just a little bit of a BAMF.

Hellfire by testosterone_tea (E, 28,596 w., 9 Ch. || Fantasy / Magic / Mages / Elementals AU || Mage Sherlock, Elemental John, Developing Relationship, Torture, Powerful / BAMF John, POV Alternating, Dark / Blood Magic, UST, First Kiss) – Sherlock is a Mage that gets involved with a case involving Dark Summoning rituals, leading him to John Watson, a man with Berserker blood. The only thing is, Berserkers have been extinct for centuries. And of course, nothing involving Mycroft and his interfering ways is ever simple. This time, even Sherlock may have bitten off more than he can chew.

That Partitioning of the Things of Youth by wearitcounts (E, 35,353 w., 7 Ch. || Humour and Angst, Post-TRF, Fake Relationship, UST / RST, Friends to Lovers, Jealous John) – Victor Trevor is in town, and nobody's happy.

The Case of the Vanishing Pants by SwissMiss (E, 44,025 w., 6 Ch. || Five and Ones, Post-TRF, Case Fic, UST, Homophobia, Friends to Lovers, Pining John, Showering Together, Couple for a Case, Sherlock’s Bum, Fantasies, Jealous Sherlock) – Five times John and Sherlock lost their pants in the course of a case.

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.

A Hundred Crimson Sols by elldotsee (E, 55,536 w., 16 Ch. || Astronauts AU || Mars Exploration / Space Travel, Slow Burn, Shy Sherlock, Scientist Sherlock / Biomed Engineer John, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, UST, Angst with Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Suicidal Ideation, Zero-G Sex) – Will Holmes is a chemical researcher recognized widely for his contributions to the new Mars exploration program. Thanks to his ground-breaking developments, the IMMC (International Mars Mission Corporation) is one step closer to Martian colonization. Will and his team of scientists are headed out on the first of three manned missions before the first group of settlers arrive. Three days before launch, one of the crew has to be replaced. Will panics because...new people. The replacement is of course one John Watson, biomedical engineer and space hottie who was pretty sure he had retired from actual space exploration and was now content to work in the nice, quiet research lab. Can the crew survive this TOTALLY ROUTINE trip? Will they be able to endure each other for the looooooong trip in close quarters? Gonna be a wild ride... prepare for blast off. Part 1 of SpaceBois go to Space

The Baker Street Nativity by SwissMiss (E, 99,662 w., 23 Ch. || Nativity! AU || Teacher Sherlock / TA John, Pining, Sherlock POV, UST, Angst, Christmas, Music/Song Fic, Anal / BJ’s, First Kiss / Time) – Fusion between Sherlock (BBC) and Nativity! (2009 movie starring Martin Freeman). Sherlock is a primary school teacher and John is assigned to be his classroom assistant. Together, they are charged with putting on the school's Nativity play. What could possibly go wrong? Part 1 of The Baker Street Nativity Verse

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w., 23 Ch. || Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Hand / Blow Jobs, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Facial Shaving, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship's surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there's more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin' the eye, he has to choose... is it a pirate's life for him?

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.

Midnight Blue Serenity by BeautifulFiction (E, 151,907 w., 19 Ch. || Friends to Lovers, Gay Bar / For a Case, Drugs, Pining, Case Fic, UST) – When Sherlock infiltrates a club in order to track down a serial killer, his altered appearance is enough to make John question his assumption that Sherlock is beyond his reach. However, is he the only one who appreciates his flatmate's charms, or is Sherlock at risk of becoming the next victim?

[sombreboy]

Mused obsession (2)

Written by @sombreboy​ as Jungkook & @chimoona​​​ as Jimin Banner by @carly-bean-blog​​​

[ masterlist ]

⇢Explicit (18+) ⇢Pairing: Jungkook & Jimin ⇢Genre: yandere, smut, mxm ⇢Word count: 5.4k ⇢Ch.warnings: Alcohol consumption, profanity, jealous jk, so much sexual tension, bending the overwatch rules for the sake of the story don’t come at me lmao, also this is the last chapter without any filth so buckle up honey

Industry famous Jeon Jungkook of GJK photography takes an interest in a model and up-and-coming fashion designer, Park Jimin. After an opportunity to study the man behind his trusty lens, he thinks he may have just found his new muse.

Jimin’s mind kept wandering to the young artist even when he was bustling backstage. He delegates tasks to a couple crew members and walks over to a standing mirror to check his appearance. He’s ethereal, dressed in a soft white shirt, wrapping high around his neck and tied with a loose bow. On top of that is a fitted jacket with large black lapels, covered entirely in dark gold accents. He wanted to be seen, and this would definitely do the trick. His guests haven’t even arrived and he’s already getting looks from the backstage crew and hired models. He adjusts his tight pants to hug comfortably, drawing just the right amount of attention to his toned legs and small waist.

“Park, it’s time.” His stage manager approaches with a waitlist in-hand. “Follow me to the entryway. It’s time to greet our guests.”

Guests trail in one by one, or in groups, filling up the venue. However, Jungkook is still on his way, in no rush.  He hates to be in the middle of a cramped crowd. Although he knows he would most likely be allowed to pass through the line, he prefers to simply arrive a little later than everybody else. It gives him a grand entrance, in some type of way — always drawing the eyes of people, shocked that he actually would show up. He knows the game.

“We’ve arrived, Jeon.” The chauffeur announces as they park in front of the building. Jungkook’s slick black car is turning the heads of   those curious to see who would show up late. With his type of car, surely it’s somebody of importance. Jungkook wonders if Jimin is anxious to see him, or maybe even a tad bit worried about whether he would show up or not.

Inside, Jimin floats from person to person as they arrive, thanking them for coming and receiving compliments in return. He was right about his choice in clothing as he began to attract a lot of attention, especially from his agency mate Taehyung.

Tae is best known for his work in accessory modelling, using his smooth hands, tapered wrists and long neck to his advantage. His physical assets are a prized commodity when displaying very luxe pieces of jewellery. His ads often display on Cartier and Rolex storefronts, in case you didn’t know. Like he’d ever let you forget. Being managed by the same company often meant Tae got the chance to work alongside Jimin, always taking the opportunity to shamelessly flirt.

“You should have asked me to model for you, Jimin.” He places his hand on the small of Jimin’s back and toys with the sequins there. He leans close to Jimin’s ear and breathes gently, tickling his cuff—“You know I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

Jimin clears his throat, trying to maintain his composure. “I’ll keep that in mind, Tae. Thank you for offering.” Taehyung cracks a sly smile and begins to walk away, turning to look over his shoulder, making sure Jimin watches. “Congratulations on the collection, by the way. Can’t wait to see how Jeon pulled off the promo shots.”

Jimin smiles back and nods as Tae leaves to greet their manager, then releases a sigh and looks around the room for Jungkook, wondering if he’d ever show up.

Jungkook steps out of the car as his chauffeur holds the door open, then heads towards the venue’s front door and is immediately allowed to pass by the small queue waiting to enter. Perks of being a celebrity, supposedly. As expected, he’s greeted with smiles, almost flocked by other celebrities trying to make a connection — mostly for business, others for personal reasons. He doesn’t smile, however. He simply excuses himself as he moves further, eyes searching for the one blonde he came for in the first place. Unsuccessful in his mission, he opts for alcohol, heading towards the bar area to lean against the counter. He orders a large pint of beer, never truly understanding those able to drink whiskey. As he chugs down a few gulps, his eyes finally spot the man he was looking for. Only question is... who’s that whispering in his ear?

Jungkook’s eyes spark in recognition when the mystery man pulls away to leave. Ah, Kim Taehyung. Another model that has been up his ass for quite a while to have his photo taken. Well, he just blew his chance on that one... The younger remains at his spot, halfway done with his drink and eyes fixated on the blonde. He’s fascinated by his effortless beauty, simply socializing with others. He quickly remembers he brought a small camera, just as high quality as his larger ones, but much more subtle for places like this. He places the beer back on the counter before aiming his camera at Jimin, snapping a few secret shots.

Absolutely angelic.

Jimin taps his foot to the music, leaning against the bar at the back of the room while he waits for his cocktail to arrive. He has no shame in ordering a cosmopolitan, loving the blushed pink color and sweet taste. He was craving something sweet after his photo shoot yesterday—banana milk still ripe on his tongue. He finds himself wondering if he should order something for Jungkook, pleading to make the impression of a courteous host, but decides he’d rather wait to see the man first.  Drink in hand, he sways his hips to the music, combing through the crowd, shaking hands and kissing other fellow agency members on the cheek as he brushes past them. Now on his second cosmo, he’s feeling loose and a little impatient. His lips curl delicately around the rim of the glass to sip down the last of the pink liquid. He thumbs a stray droplet from his bottom lip and decides it’s time to head backstage and check in.

Jungkook keeps his eyes fixed on the elder the entire time, enjoying the opportunity to observe how Jimin acts when he isn’t aware of the younger's eyes. A cosmopolitan, huh? Jimin would order such a drink. Kook wants to taste for himself — having never tried one before. He normally goes for beer, which he finishes off and sets down on the counter with a clonk. He’s still watching Jimin, the social butterfly that he is. A beautiful, gorgeous butterfly...the way his plush lips curl around the rim of the glass — mesmerizing. What’s even more devastating is the subtle swipe of his thumb across his lower lip.

“Park Jimin, you are dangerous...” Jungkook mutters to himself as his cautious eyes follow the man.  He glances down at his watch, knowing it was almost showtime. He decides to announce his presence beforehand, sauntering over, keeping his gaze on Jimin until he’s next to him. He gives his arm a light nudge with his own.

“Hey.”

It takes Jimin a couple seconds to register that the nudge was coming from Jungkook, then stops dead in his tracks by the man’s dark suit and styled hair. He can smell a woodsy musk coming from him, enchanting his senses. Jimin is so impressed by how well Jungkook has cleaned up that he can barely take his eyes off him.

“Hey, you,” Jimin smiles and wraps him in a friendly hug—perhaps a little too friendly given his liquid courage. “You look great,” he gushes and gives the man a light kiss on the cheek like he did with his friends — just a little longer than the rest. “Decided to finally show up, huh? Fashionably late—I get it.” The model teases, enjoying how wide Jungkook’s eyes get when he doesn’t treat him like a big-shot. “Let’s get you settled in, Jeon.” Jimin loops his arm into the younger’s and leads him to the bar to buy a new round of cosmos. “The show is about to begin. I saved you a seat at the front.”

Jungkook is no stranger to friendly kisses on the cheek from acquaintances, but this was the first time when coming from another man — that it made a shiver run down his spine. Jimin’s lips are soft, plushy, and feel like a kiss from an angel itself. It is, unfortunately, addicting . A part of him can’t help but wonder how they’d feel on his own lips... Jungkook shrugs off his continuous thoughts; there are more important things to think about than kissing the man holding him close... right?   He lets the smaller man guide him towards the bar, eyes immediately falling on the sweet drink and licking his lips at the sight. It looks delicious, so he decides to get one as well, then picks it up and tilts his head back, tasting it with a larger gulp than one normally would . T he sweetness coats his tongue and leaves a small layer of liquid on his lower lip.

“I’m technically not late...the show hasn't started yet.” He smiles, the mix of beer and cosmo slowly hitting his system. Kook glances up at Jimin. “Shall we go, then?”

Arm in arm, Jimin guides Jungkook towards the runway. He holds him close to navigate through the dense crowd. Heads turn as the two of them enter the room, some trying their best to network with the photographer as he passes by. “You’re getting more attention than me,” Jimin comments over the sound of bustling gossip. “If I was smart I would have offered to dress you in a suit from my collection. You’d fit right in with the models.”

“That would have been a smart choice,” Jungkook jokes, eyes continuously falling back to where Jimin holds his bicep close, and where their bodies pressed together. He barely notices the passing words of others and they completely go over his head. His focus is solely on Jimin’s sweet tone, trying to keep his eyes up to look around. He isn’t usually comfortable in crowded areas, so he’s grateful to the model for keeping him grounded. “Maybe I would’ve accepted.”

“Then it’s settled,” Jimin says with a squeeze to his arm, noting how the tall handsome man melts into his touch. “And it’s not going to be just any suit, obviously. It has to be custom .” He leads Jungkook close to the stage and takes a seat next to him, keeping his body close for comfort in the hectic bustle of celebrities. “Think of it as a tip for your hard work these past few days,” he adds.

...Or an excuse to run his hands over more of the photographer’s toned body as he takes measurements. Either way, it would give him another opportunity to have the man alone.

“I wouldn’t expect anything but custom,” Jungkook scrunches his nose as he smiles, joking on his own expense. “That, or I wouldn’t be Jeon Jungkook.” He slumps down on the chair as Jimin follows to take a seat next to him. Their sides are still pressed together tightly — not that the younger has anything against it. Rather the opposite. He enjoys the close proximity. His gaze continously steals glances at the elders flawless profile. He knew he was admiring the man already, but up close...it’s next level. Jungkook’s eyes travel down the soft slope of Jimin’s nose until they land on the plush, tinted lips that are blessed with a natural pout. ...it should be illegal.

Jimin may not have noticed Jungkook’s covert photos earlier, but he’s not blind to the man’s roaming stare as it fixates on every facet of his face. Jimin sneaks a few glances for himself, or rather, unabashedly eye-fucks him. Everything about the guy is alluring—the long dark hair, the sharp jawline and slightly exposed chest under his low-cut black shirt. Jimin almost salivates at the thought of claiming his mouth in front of all these strangers.  It must be the third cosmo in his system. He’s feeling loose and uninhibited, even more now that he knows his interests aren’t misplaced. If Jungkook keeps staring, Jimin might have to fast-track that personal fitting.

The lights dim to indicate that the show was about to begin.

“Excuse me,” Jimin leans close to whisper, purposefully pressing his glossy pout against Jungkook’s ear, anxious to see how it affects him, “I’ve got a speech to give.” He then stands and gracefully floats to stage to find his footing in front of the microphone.

Jungkook forces himself to tightly swallow down the groan threatening to escape his lips when he feels Jimin’s breath fan over his ear. The scent of alcohol mixed with the elders sweet perfume is intoxicating. One turn of his head and his lips could’ve been on Jimin’s. The thought was awfully tempting, but before he was able to react in any way, the blonde withdrew himself to stride towards the stage.  Jimin’s ring-clad fingers delicately wrap around the microphone stand, and the younger straightens his posture — gaze still fixed on the gorgeous angel before him. He reaches down his pocket, fingers gripping around his camera. He really wants to capture the moment.

“I thank each and every one of you for attending, what I hope to be, the very beginning of a successful launch.”

Cameras flash from the crowd—a few media sources, fashion bloggers and excited industry mates document the moment. Jimin gulps down a small wave of nerves and continues on. He’s a professional. He can do this.

“My team and I are excited to share a first look at the ‘Be Your Light’ collection, created to evoke confidence and empower those who wear it to show their true selves.”  He clasps his hands together in thanks and gives a small bow to the crowd. “Enjoy the show and please look forward to more in the coming weeks...” He looks over to Jungkook, as if speaking directly to the man as he delivers his finishing statement — “...there’s much more yet to come.”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to lift his own camera along with everybody else, snapping a few closeup shots of this big moment. It’s huge, and Kook can’t help but smile with pride. He’s gonna go so far, especially with his assistance. As soon as their eyes meet, Jungkook lowers his camera to truly see Jimin as he finishes on stage. His heart flutters — excitement evident as he flashes the gorgeous angel a toothy grin followed with a nod of approval. There surely is much more to come. And, hopefully, more projects together.

Jimin can’t wipe the smile from his face. The applause of the room carries on as he walks back to his seat. But barely there, he’s tugged to the side by a familiar pair of smooth hands.

“Loved the speech,” Taehyung slurs, urging the model to sit beside him instead. The scent of dark rum is heavy on his breath. He was never very good at staying composed during events like this. Deep bass thunders from the rafters as the first model hits the runway.

“Thanks Tae, but I’ve got to—“ Jimin is silenced by the man as he grips his face and tries to kiss him roughly, missing by an inch.

“You’re such a TEASE tonight,” Tae snarls. “Come home with me.”

His proposition is blunt as per usual. Jimin politely shakes his head and smiles as if nothing happened, trying to reduce the amount of attention they’re already drawing. To his relief, their manager intervenes and coaxes Tae to sit back in his seat, allowing Jimin enough time to slip back to his rightful spot beside Jungkook.

Jungkook saw everything. Watching Taehyung attempt to kiss Jimin was probably one of the most frustrating feelings he had ever felt. That’s when he knew he didn’t want anybody else to have a chance with the blonde. It also meant...Jungkook really has an interest in the man. It’s obvious, but he wouldn’t acknowledge it — not until he saw Jimin almost kiss somebody who wasn’t him. The very moment Jimin sat down next to him, his tongue continuously prodded the inside of his cheek in annoyance. One arm quickly wraps around the elders shoulders, pulling him closer to talk to through the loud music.  “What the hell was that?”

“Nothing,” Jimin mumbles, crossing his legs. He and Tae have unfinished business but his fashion show is far from the appropriate venue to address it.  In the past, Tae’s everlasting propositions would often bring him to his knees and he knew it well. Behind the curtain of a runway, to the filthy floor of a club bathroom. But that was the past. Jungkook probably doesn’t need to know that part, not when he’s already so annoyed.  “He just had too much to drink,” Jimin clarifies, “it’s fine.”

Jungkook doesn’t even attempt to hide the way he scrunches his nose in annoyance. Maybe it’s due to the alcohol, but he presses Jimin closer to himself and fans his breath over the elders ear as he speaks. “You’re not required to stay any longer, right? You did your speech...”

Jimin leans his small body tight to Jungkook, needing to be closer as well, blood warming to his dominant aura. He still feels the white hot stares of neighbouring attendees after the little stunt Taehyung pulled. His stage manager is more than capable of handling the rest of the show, he’s sure of that. If he wants the attention back on the garments and the rest of the show to be a success, it’s best he slips out.

He keeps his voice low enough for only Jungkook to hear — “Get me out of here.”

The words roll off Jimin’s lips, and they’re more than enough for Jungkook to spring into action. A smirk curls on his lips as he stands up, grabbing the elders hand shamelessly.

 “Let’s go, then.”

He tugs the blonde along, scuffing through the crowd. On the way out, his eyes meet Taehyung’s sharp gaze as it flickers between the two men hand in hand. Jungkook flashes him a shit eating grin, knowing Tae would simply have nothing to argue about, especially if he ever wants a slight chance to work with the photographer in the future.

He could forget about it, Kook muses to himself.

He leads Jimin to his car, already on cue to leave at Jungkook's say so. He holds the back door open for his company, letting him get seated before joining inside.

Jimin settles in close as the driver begins to take them away. He’s not sure where they’re going and doesn’t care to ask, content as long as it’s far from prying eyes. He slips his hand under Jungkook’s as he misses the feeling of skin on skin, then looks up at the younger with a small smile on his pouty lips. “Thank you,” he says, mentally musing over the many ways he’d like to show him his gratitude. The way Jungkook took command of that situation wrecks Jimin, to say the least. He can’t blink away the image of Jungkook’s jaw tightening, nose scrunching, or how hot his breath felt like fire against his neck as he asked about Taehyung.

Jungkook shrugs lightly, a small smile on his lips at the simple words of gratitude. It’s cute, the way Jimin suddenly seems to shrink beside him when they’re alone. Apparently an audience makes him cocky, but the one-on-one moments together make him look almost... innocent . The duality is exactly why Jungkook feels such a strong pull towards him. The car slowly pulls through a large gated area, turning into a driveway next to a grand mansion. Kook doesn’t wait for the chauffeur to open the door and simply does so himself without a word, waiting for the elder to follow. He hasn’t bothered asking Jimin if he wants to go with him to his home. Then again, Jungkook often does whatever he pleases.

Jimin follows him obediently, noting that perhaps chivalry isn’t dead. He hasn’t had a man open a door for him unless he was paid or obligated to do so. He nods in thanks and marvels at the house he’s about to step into. Just from the outside, it’s beautiful and meticulously landscaped.

“Is this all yours?” Jimin asks, mouth slightly parted in awe. He’s considered himself to be well off for his age, but the younger man takes it to the next level.

Jungkook cranes his neck to observe his house, giving a light nod before he strolls towards the grand front door, fumbling in his pockets to fish out the keys. “All mine.” His lips twitch in a smile, glancing over the shoulder at the blonde.  Kook remembers buying his house — the excitement back then was comparable to that of a child on christmas. However, with time, material things grew worthless. In a sense, he’s used to it all, but seeing Jimin’s admiration sparks a pride — an appreciation for his own wealth, perhaps. “Wanna come inside?” he asks cheekily, as if that wasn’t already the plan.

Jimin nods again and follows him in. It isn’t normal by any stretch to have as much self-built notoriety and materialistic gain before the age of 30... or any age, really. It makes him even more curious to know the young photographer. It’s not the fame or fortune that draws him in; it’s the reminder that Jeon Jungkook, GJK-branded icon, photographer to the stars, is also the milk-sipping boy with manners and a childlike glimmer in his eye. What a conundrum, Jimin thinks. His eyes flick to Jungkook’s ass as he walks through the grand doors, noting for the first time just how toned it is. A very...alluring conundrum.  

Tonight may be the night he discovers even more about the semi-mysterious younger man. He’s almost jittery with anticipation, wondering what he has in store for their evening together.

The doors automatically close behind them — the loud click of the lock echoes in the hallway as Jungkook slowly saunters towards the open space of the living room, gesturing towards the couch to offer Jimin a seat. Kook paces through the room to reach the open kitchen, stepping behind the only thing separating the two rooms — a large marbled counter, which frames the space deemed a kitchen. He opens the fridge and scans his various beverages with a hum.

Yes, he has a fridge solemnly dedicated to drinks...

“Want something to drink? I have alcohol, soda, energy drinks...even bananamilk. You liked that, right?” Kook’s oddball mind almost craves to mix alcohol with his favorite sweet drink. It could be the best of both worlds, as a kids show once told him.

Already three cosmos into the night, Jimin decides to stray from the sweet side of the flavor spectrum, at least until he’s a little more drunk.

“I did like the banana milk...” he’s almost tempted to take him up on the offer just knowing how pleased Jungkook would be by the decision, but no, he needs something that will make him a little more... uninhibited . He taps his fingers against his chin in thought, taking a seat on the big couch. “I’ll take a glass of wine. Red, if you have it.”

Jungkook hums as he crouches to the bottom of the fridge. His stack of unopened wine bottles is finally coming to use as he doesn’t normally drink wine too often himself. He supposes he can indulge in some as well. “Does the brand matter?” Kook asks, but not really waiting for an answer before he picks one that he remembers getting as a gift from... well , he doesn’t remember. All he knows is it’s of decent quality. Pricey, to say the least.  The bottles clonk together as he grabs the one he thinks fits Jimin best, forgetting about his craving for the milk as he returns to the couch with the large bottle and two glasses in hand. “If you want anything specific I can always have it delivered.” He murmurs as he places the glasses down and pulls up his sleeves to open the bottle with a pop. Pop is also an accurate description of what the veins in his hands did as he works the cork out of the bottle neck.

Jimin cannot help the gravitational pull he has towards hands, especially those that do hard work and reflect the fruits of their labor. When Jungkook raises his sleeves, it’s the first time Jimin gets a look at the tattoos that wrap around one arm and down his long fingers. He watches as Jungkook uncorks the bottle and swipes his tongue across his lips to wet them. “Thanks for the offer,” he says quietly, too engrossed in the task at hand. “I’m sure we have everything we need right here.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows tightly draw together as he focuses on pouring the drink into each glass, having no care for the etiquette of ‘filling halfway.’ No, Jungkook fills the glasses until the transparent material is completely red, seeing no reason in being stingy with the drink. When satisfied, he places the bottle on the table and sits down to hand Jimin his overfilled glass while treating himself to the same. He wastes no time in taking a large gulp as he’s not the kind to ‘savor the taste.’

Jimin watched the process and throughout and thought how cute it was that he didn't know how to pour wine. It was just another moment Jimin savoured as unexpected yet endearing.  He follows Jungkook’s lead and greedily gulps down a mouthful of the dry merlot. He can tell it’s expensive because it drinks like water and bursts with fruity flavour. He takes another gulp and already feels his alcohol levels rise.

“What do you do around here for fun?” Jimin asks, looking around the room.

Jungkook’s eyes twinkle with excitement at the question, quickly pointing towards the large TV hanging on the wall. “I like video games…” He takes another gulp of his wine, already having downed most of it. He feels the alcohol loosening him up a bit with cheeks a hue of red, puffing up with a smile. “Do you play?”

Jimin swivels to look at the TV and surveys the gaming setup. There’s no doubt the photographer likes to indulge his interests given he owns every console imaginable.  He stands with his wine, drinking it steadily as he walks over to the selection of games.

“I’ve played Overwatch before,” he notes, plucking the game and walking it back to Jungkook. “But I won’t go easy on you, Jeon.” He smirks, holding eye contact. He wraps his full lips around the rim of the glass to polish off the rest of his wine, even braver than he was a second ago. “In fact, let’s make this interesting.” His confidence is back in full swing. “Weaker player has to do whatever the other wants, no questions asked.”

Jungkook’s fingers curl around the gamecase — the small pull on his lips quickly turn into a playful smirk at the elders' words. “You won’t go easy on me ?” His smirk morphs, surprised by Jimin’s challenge. He quickly closes his mouth, processing his words as the alcohol amplifies his curiosity about all the possible outcomes of when he wins. Because, obviously, there’s no way Jimin could beat him in overwatch. “Oh... really? ” Jungkook purrs as he stands up, stepping closer to the blonde until their chests merely graze together. His warm breath fans Jimin’s face as he waves the game in the air. “Deal...no questions asked.”

Jungkook quirks an eyebrow and wastes no time in turning the game on, then returns to the couch with two controllers and hands one to Jimin. He’s confident, however, a part of him wonders what Jimin would come up with if he did win…

“D-deal,” Jimin repeats softly, blushing. He grips the controller to focus on something tangible. His heart thunders in his chest as Jungkook’s warm breath still lingers on his flesh. “Before we get started,” he slightly slurs and waves his empty glass in the air, feeling loose. “...Refill time?” Overwatch isn’t necessarily the model’s forte but perhaps he can get the upper hand if Jungkook is just a little more inebriated. Not that he’s trying to take advantage…or maybe he is. The opportunity to do whatever he wants with the man, no questions asked? He doesn’t even know where he would start. He almost feels lightheaded by the thought of guiding Jungkook’s tattooed hand to wrap around his throat, punishing him for being indecisive.

Jungkook’s eyes land on the empty glass in Jimin’s hand. …He wants more? One bottle down, and even the younger man can feel that he’s leaning way past tipsy. But , he thinks, what the hell . It’s a night of celebration, after all. Besides, he may not get another chance like this, alone with the gorgeous blonde. There’s no use in wasting it.

“Okay.” He stands up once more to grab another bottle, returning to fill the glasses up to the brim. There isn’t a single bone in Jungkook that can be described as stingy. He’s very generous. “Don’t blame the wine if you lose though,” he slurs out the words and slumps down on the couch. His fingers tightly grip the controller with one hand as he tilts his head back to chug more of his beverage ; throat muscles flexing as he does so.

Who is he kidding? Jimin has never played the game before. Knocking back a large gulp of his drink, he sets the glass aside to focus. It’s already starting; Jungkook eagerly bounces in his seat to kick his ass. Jimin has already accepted defeat—his drunken mind circling the various shenanigans a man like Jungkook could be interested in. He combs a hand through his styled hair and ruffles it, relaxing into the couch.

“Let’s get it,” he smiles, biting down on his lip.

Jungkook’s nose scrunches up in a snort at Jimin’s words, repeating them himself in a breathy laugh — “Let’s get it!”

After not long at all , t he younger isn’t surprised to see that Jimin has no fucking idea what he’s doing. His cocky attitude was simply for show. Kook barely has to try, half-focused on glancing over at the blonde’s reactions and attempts to figure out the game. A small crease forms between Jimin’s eyebrows, so endearing. The pout on his rosey lips is... alluring . With the bet in mind, Jungkook’s mind wanders…

As the game continues on, it becomes very apparent that the blonde is going to lose his own bet. He keeps running into walls and firing at trees. With a frustrated sigh, he releases the controller and lets it flop pathetically in his lap. “The tree moved, I swear!”  To think, he did it to himself. What a fool —he should have chosen something more his speed like Katamari Damacy. He scrambles to pick the controller back up, steadfast in upholding his air of perfection, but it’s too late. …it's time for his punishment.

Jungkook’s toothy smile grows, moreso at the reactions he draws out of the man next to him rather than the actual victory of the game.

“What a dumb tree, huh?” He snickers, putting the controller on the table before turning his whole body towards Jimin, swirling the wine glass in hand. Jungkook rests one arm behind Jimin and leans in real close. “Now, who lost the bet?” He clearly knows, but he really craves hearing it. Call it an ego boost, but hearing the blonde accept his loss in a flustered manner is an incredibly amusing sight.

Swallowing his pride, perhaps a little too easily, Jimin concedes with a light pink blush adorning his cheeks.

“You won, Jeon.” He finishes off the rest of his wine glass and enjoys the floaty euphoric feeling of being out of control but still very present. “Fair and square,” he breathes, inching forward, resting his hands in his lap obediently. “You hold all the power. What would you like me to do?”

‘You hold all the power.’ The words made a shiver run down Jungkook’s spine. It could be innocent, but with the tension between them, that was highly unlikely.

Jungkook’s mind wanders further as his senses amplify and unhinge by the amount of alcohol running through his system. He places his wine glass on the table, now daring to settle his free hand on Jimin’s thigh to give it a soft squeeze. His eyes never waver from the blonde as he tries to draw more reactions from him.

“No questions asked...right?”

© sombreboy 2020. Do not repost, edit or translate.

[redevenir]

faintheart in the dark

hoshi x reader

wc : ~ 1800

a/n : @tearsofsyrup let’s just say it’s for you dear, since your tiger agenda blog inspired me. i wish you the best as usual, and hopefully this will feel like a little treat after a good day! not at all a horror au bc that dumb fucker doesn’t know what fear is anyway. Very self indulgent. Also I didn’t proofread so sorry for the faults! 

The bus ride is quiet, a nice relief after Soonyoung’s busy day. Still, it’s not as satisfying as it would be to go home, cook up something quick and warm, drown himself under the shower and crash into his bed. He wonders when he became like that. Working for school after working for a minimum wage, and feeling like this is it. The bus stops pass one after the other until he finally reaches the humanities’ campus. Despite his fatigue and his hunger, he wastes no time in going to the cafeteria – it’s almost closing hour and he knows how annoying last minute customers are – and makes his way directly toward the library. He mindlessly watches the humanities’ building as he passes by. He notices the glass door of the library, goes in, allows himself a brief nod of the head to whoever is at the front desk – maybe a new one ? And they still haven’t fixed that broken ceiling light. He heads to the history of art section, he takes his things out of his bag and sets them up on a table, his pencil case, his notebook, takes out an imposing History of rural theater from the shelves and resumes to work. The pipes are unusually squeaky, but he manages to focus on his task, takes notes for his paper. There is a charm to his subject, he thinks. It is a nice change, to be able to talk about less conventional art, a more popular one. It reminds him of home. He allows himself a quick look over the rest of the tables. A usual, empty Tuesday night. The light flashes in irregular patterns. There are enough others so it’s far from dark, but it is annoying enough to distract Soonyoung from reading. Sighing, he scans the hall again, as a treat. Far away, in the medieval History section, he notices your bag and his lips twitch upward. It’s true you chose that Colors from the Middle-age class, but it’s so unexpected he keeps forgetting about it. Jun sometimes reminds him when he talks about whatever assignments the professor gives you. It’s still weird to think that you and Junhui see each other every week, regardless of Soonyoung, whereas he would go out of his way to go the same parties as you, to get a chance to see you. He closes his eyes, just for a bit. Once he’ll be done, he’ll come over and say hello. As a treat.

When Soonyoung wakes up, he is in the dark. He narrows his eyes in hopes of seeing through, and notices the flickering light by the entrance. Pressing his lips together, he rubs his fingers on his temples. There is no point in staying any longer. He doesn’t bother to look at the time on his phone, puts everything back in his back, leaves the history of theater on the table, and, before leaving, tries to remember where the bathrooms are. Following his foggy intuition, he slaloms among the tables, bumping a few chairs on the way. There is something unsettling about being there after hours. Libraries are supposed to be quiet places for sure, but the dark silence in which he is really far from his habit. He licks his lips, tries to be careful, and with a yawn he reaches the corridor. The soft green light of the emergency exit illuminates it. Here is his way out.

Dum. Dum. Dum. The sound of your heart is deafening. Your bronchi burn, yet you try to control the rhythm of your breathing, the sound of it, even though the alarm ringing in your head shrieks there is no time for this. From what are you even hiding yourself? Sweat runs cold down your spine, you smell it. You want to go home. You want to get out. You want to slap Soonyoung and you want him to pay for a fucking well-deserved brunch. No, you want him to ask you out on a brunch. In an attempt to get a hold of yourself you hide your face in your clammy hands, close to your nose to mute the sound of your fear. Nothing is heard but your restrained breath. One, inhale, one two three four five, six, exhale. You try to change the focus of your mind. You close the toilet seat and sit on it, swallowing saliva. You press your finger on your temple, all trace of sleepiness long forgotten.

Sometimes, Seungcheol says you’re dumb. It’s true. You are. You think back to where you left your belongings, earlier, and that essay on red pigments. Hopefully no one will steal it.

You were already in the last bus when he had called you, voice loud and way too urgent for your state of mind. Asking where you were, and if you had seen Soonyoung or not. You knew very well who Soonyoung was. Jun’s roommate, a theater kid. Phases out a lot, cute. Even though you’re both humanities’ students, you barely see him on campus – you assume it has to do with your respective part time jobs taking up most of the free time you have. But you meet at parties. It feels like whenever you go out, he’s always there, and you usually spend most of the night with him, talking until you stop feeling your head and catch yourself staring at him. That’s when you go home. Dizzy, happy, horny. The feelings linger a few days, until obligations push them out at the back of your brain again. Yet, every now and then, when you are free enough, you remember how vibrant it is to be with him and your skin becomes a boiling veil and your head is full of colors.

So when Seungcheol asked you if you had seen Soonyoung, you told him you had, he was working at the library tonight too. And when he asked when he left you told him you didn’t know – your bus line ends before the library closes, and he was asleep on his table when you left. You heard Junhui’s Oh my god in the back and began to chew on the inside of your lip. And sure enough, they had asked you to come back for him, just in case. And when you had arrived back at the library, all lights off and dark, you had known it was not going to go well. From breaking a window to get back in to the rush of adrenaline induced by the flashlights of the security agents you’d noticed outside, you felt your evening spiraling in a very wrong, irrational way. You didn’t know the library as well as you thought, lost your way of few times, until exhaustion, the fear of getting caught and and increasing worry about Soonyoung’s whereabouts had you disheveled and hiding in the bathroom for a lonely brainstorming session.

Until you hear the flush. The sound of falling water crushing your train of thoughts – you hadn’t even noticed someone came in. Noticing your little cry of surprised, a very tired voice asks who is there, and you give up. Trying to make up a story that wouldn’t make you look like a lunatic, you stand up and push the door open with your feet, wondering how high would the fine be for breaking into the library – and mostly breaking that window.

Only to face Soonyoung, eyes wide, drying his hands with toilet paper. Your mouth agape, you let out a sigh. Your heart skips a beat, maybe because of him, maybe because you’re dead. You feel the embarrassment soaking in. He watches as you close your eyes, lower your head, biting your lips with a little, uneasy smile. You twist your finger until your knuckles are white, licking your lips one last time before clearing your throat.

« Sorry, hum, sorry about… That, I guess. You don’t look at him. Apparently Jun got worried about you and they asked me to check if you were okay… So I-I hum, I, hum, I came back and got scared wandering in the building… Hum. »

You hear your name in a whisper. Two warm hands cup your face, their heat on your frozen ears. They pull you a bit until you gently bump against his chest. Soonyoung whispers your name again. You feel his warmth, and you smell the sweat of his day at work. The soft fabric of his sweater hugs your cheek and you restrain yourself from leaning in more.

« I’m alright, fell asleep, that’s all. His left thumb gently strokes your cheek. Don’t you work morning shifts ? » You shoot him a surprised look from his shoulder, long enough for him to meet your gaze.

« I do. Why do you ask? » He feels your uneven breathe on his lips, it’s warm and shaky. He should kiss you now, but there are fireworks in his head, still in awe at your apparition. His hand goes to your hips, hugging you for good. He then softly takes your hand.

« Let’s go home. You can crash at my place, he tugs at your hand and you hum in agreement. Quick, he makes sure you’re not looking at him as you both head out the bathroom. I’ll call for you tomorrow. To tell them you’re sick. » He avoids your eyes before you can meet his. You should ask him more. You should refuse. Both of his offers. You watch him as he opens the fire escape door – of course – and you watch his hand holding yours. You say nothing and you walk closer to him until you arrive to the bus stop. Sure enough, your bag’s still there, on the floor, where you’ve thrown it the same way you’ve thrown your hours of sleep away. You ponder and you ponder, and Soonyoung looks at you an your face doesn’t look too bad so he doesn’t push you.

« Okay then, let’s do that. I’ll sleep at your place, and before my shift you call them saying I’m sick or dead, as you please. » He smiles and it’s like dawn already.

« Don’t you want to go back ? After, I mean ? I mean, to keep working there ? »

« I’ll do it Jesus style then. » He laughs and you finally look at him again. Even now, as you sit on the bench and he stands right in front of you, he still has your hand in his. He shifts his balance, holding your gaze, and how many times did he get the occasion to kiss you ? Proper occasions, not intoxicated ones. His free hand reaches to cup your face once more, the tips of his fingers caressing greasy strands of your hair.

He really should kiss you now.

[somegirlsnerdywords2]

Anime i’ve Watched

That begin with a N (Part 2)!

Yep this is how i’m going to bring over all the anime and manga i’ve watched and posted about on the old blog. It’s not so detailed but it will have to do. Anything new I watch or read from this point on will have their own posts.

Net-juu no Susume  (Recovery of an MMO Junkie):

Genres: Game, Comedy, Romance, ONA 

Synopsis:  For the first time since graduating high school, 30-year-old Moriko Morioka is unemployed—and she couldn't be happier. Having quit her long-standing job of over 11 years, Moriko quickly turns to online games to pass her now-plentiful free time, reinventing herself as the handsome and dashing male hero "Hayashi" in the MMO Fruits de Mer. With the pesky societal obligations of the real world out of the way, she blissfully dives headfirst into the realm of the game, where she promptly meets the kind and adorable healer Lily. Befriending each other almost instantly, the two become inseparable just as Moriko herself becomes more and more engrossed in her new "life" as Hayashi. Eventually, Moriko adopts the reclusive lifestyle in its entirety, venturing out from the safety of her apartment only when absolutely necessary. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Moriko, a timid 28-year-old corporate worker named Yuuta Sakurai has also logged onto Fruits de Mer from the other side of town. Coincidentally bumping into each other at the convenience store one night, both write off their meeting as no more than just another awkward encounter with a stranger—however, fate has more in store for them than they think. [Written by MAL Rewrite]

My Rating: 8/10

Finished airing in 2017 with a total of 10 episodes

My Thoughts: The male lead wears glasses! In case that’s something anyone but me cares about... Aside from that I can’t remember much about this one which is never a sign of an amazing anime so it’s up to you friends! Will you watch it or leave it?! 

Nijiiro Days:

Genres: Comedy, Romance, School, TV Short, Shoujo, Slice of Life

Synopsis:  Nijiiro Days follows the colorful lives and romantic relationships of four high school boys—Natsuki Hashiba, a dreamer with delusions of love; Tomoya Matsunaga, a narcissistic playboy who has multiple girlfriends; Keiichi Katakura, a kinky sadist who always carries a whip; and Tsuyoshi Naoe, an otaku who has a cosplaying girlfriend. When his girlfriend unceremoniously dumps him on Christmas Eve, Natsuki breaks down in tears in the middle of the street and is offered tissues by a girl in a Santa Claus suit. He instantly falls in love with this girl, Anna Kobayakawa, who fortunately attends the same school as him. Natsuki's pursuit of Anna should have been simple and uneventful; however, much to his dismay, his nosy friends constantly meddle in his relationship, as they strive to succeed in their own endeavors of love. [Written by MAL Rewrite]

My Rating: 8/10

Finished airing in 2016 with a total of 24 episodes. Each episode running about 13 minutes in length. 

My Thoughts: Love the manga, which I keep meaning to finish because it is a completed title... and I should probably finish it before manga gets even harder to find online with the way things are currently going... 

Anywho, the anime! Pretty good. The episodes are about half that of a normal anime but you have a 24 episode count so it’s basically the same as having a 12 episodes run with the usual running time!  I’d watch it is you want more content after the manga, but keep in mind that the anime does not cover the entirety of the manga! 

No Game No Life:

Genres: Game, Adventure, Comedy, Supernatural, Ecchi, Fantasy

Synopsis:  No Game No Life is a surreal comedy that follows Sora and Shiro, shut-in NEET siblings and the online gamer duo behind the legendary username "Blank." They view the real world as just another lousy game; however, a strange e-mail challenging them to a chess match changes everything—the brother and sister are plunged into an otherworldly realm where they meet Tet, the God of Games. The mysterious god welcomes Sora and Shiro to Disboard, a world where all forms of conflict—from petty squabbles to the fate of whole countries—are settled not through war, but by way of high-stake games. This system works thanks to a fundamental rule wherein each party must wager something they deem to be of equal value to the other party's wager. In this strange land where the very idea of humanity is reduced to child's play, the indifferent genius gamer duo of Sora and Shiro have finally found a real reason to keep playing games: to unite the sixteen races of Disboard, defeat Tet, and become the gods of this new, gaming-is-everything world. [Written by MAL Rewrite]

My Rating: 7/10

Finished airing in 2014 with a total of 12 episodes. 

My Thoughts: I have a laundry list of things i’m meaning to watch, read or do. Watching the No Game No Life movie on Netflix is one of those things. Anyways! I recall this one being alright, nice art/ animation/ character design and an interesting premise but too short and underdeveloped. One of those animes that may have benefited greatly from a longer run or second season. 

No.6:

Genres: Action, Sci-fi, Mystery, Drama

Synopsis:  Many years ago, after the end of a bloody world war, mankind took shelter in six city-states that were peaceful and perfect... at least on the surface. However, Shion—an elite resident of the city-state No. 6—gained a new perspective on the world he lives in, thanks to a chance encounter with a mysterious boy, Nezumi. Nezumi turned out to be just one of many who lived in the desolate wasteland beyond the walls of the supposed utopia. But despite knowing that the other boy was a fugitive, Shion decided to take him in for the night and protect him, which resulted in drastic consequences: because of his actions, Shion and his mother lost their status as elites and were relocated elsewhere, and the darker side of the city began to make itself known. Now, a long time after their life-altering first meeting, Shion and Nezumi are finally brought together once again—the former elite and the boy on the run are about to embark on an adventure that will, in time, reveal the shattering secrets of No. 6. [Written by MAL Rewrite]

My Rating: 8/10

Finished airing in 2011 with a total of 11 episodes. 

My Thoughts: Just read the manga and watch this as extra, I can’t remember if the anime covered the entirety of the manga’s story but either way check out that source material first! The manga series is also completed which is a huge bonus. High point: The relationship between the two leads. 

Noragami:

Genres: Action, Adventure, Comedy, Supernatural, Shounen

Synopsis: In times of need, if you look in the right place, you just may see a strange telephone number scrawled in red. If you call this number, you will hear a young man introduce himself as the Yato God. Yato is a minor deity and a self-proclaimed "Delivery God," who dreams of having millions of worshippers. Without a single shrine dedicated to his name, however, his goals are far from being realized. He spends his days doing odd jobs for five yen apiece, until his weapon partner becomes fed up with her useless master and deserts him. Just as things seem to be looking grim for the god, his fortune changes when a middle school girl, Hiyori Iki, supposedly saves Yato from a car accident, taking the hit for him. Remarkably, she survives, but the event has caused her soul to become loose and hence able to leave her body. Hiyori demands that Yato return her to normal, but upon learning that he needs a new partner to do so, reluctantly agrees to help him find one. And with Hiyori's help, Yato's luck may finally be turning around.

My Rating: 8/10

Finished airing in 2014 with a total of 12 episodes. 

My Thoughts: Yes! Watch it! Love it! And also read it. Big downside: The updates for this manga are slow and the story is unfinished obviously. Upside: Two whole seasons of anime goodness, and if we’re really lucky we’ll eventually get another? Ok maybe not... but a girl can dream! Also this anime has one of my all time favourite opening themes! Amazing! 

Noragami Aragoto:

Genres: Action, Adventure, Comedy, Supernatural, Shounen

Synopsis:  Yato and Yukine have finally mended their relationship as god and Regalia, and everyone has returned to their daily life. Yato remains a minor and unknown deity who continues taking odd jobs for five yen apiece in the hopes of one day having millions of worshippers and his own grand shrine. Hiyori Iki has yet to have her loose soul fixed by Yato, but she enjoys life and prepares to attend high school nonetheless. Taking place immediately after the first season, Noragami Aragoto delves into the complicated past between Yato and the god of war Bishamon. The female god holds a mysterious grudge against Yato, which often results in violent clashes between them. It doesn't help that Bishamon's most trusted and beloved Regalia, Kazuma, appears to be indebted to Yato. When lives are on the line, unraveling these mysteries and others may be the only way to correct past mistakes. [Written by MAL Rewrite]

My Rating: 9/10

Finished airing in 2015 with a total of 13 episodes. 

My Thoughts: Another amazing opening theme! Seriously this series really knew how to pick them! Also have crushes on a solid chunk of the cast... so there’s that. 

[if-found-return-to-gusu]

Talking with Nie Huaisang

Nie Huaisang. 

Today we are talking about Nie Huaisang.

And for once it’s not to bitch about him.

We went out together the other day. The same day that Lan Zhan installed the new stove.

(Apparently that was not a coordinated attack but rather Lan Zhan seizing the opportunity. Apparently it’s actually really hard to get enough time apart from each other to enact secret plans that involve REMODELING YOUR FUCKING KITCHEN. Who knew?)

Anyway. 

……………..

I’m gonna go through my blog at one point and find out how many times I say “Anyway”. 

…

Anyway.

Nie Huaisang and I decided… well… I decided we needed to talk. He agreed and had been politely waiting for me to be ready for it. We’d spoken briefly before but it was too soon and I just… 

I don’t think I was too mean, was I Huaisang? But I wasn’t nice either. He took it like a champ but I think I hurt him more than I’d meant to. 

I had claimed earlier on this blog that he wasn’t being a good friend but in the end the bad friend was me. I was trying to be understanding but it was forced. And it just made things worse.

So I gave us some time. I gave me some time. And he was patient.  

It’s not that we hadn’t talked in between then and now. It’s just that it was so superficial. It was… like I know that he was still talking to Lan Zhan like normal.. Or as normal as possible after me just laying into him while I was… gone.  But between us… it was like we had a friend in common and so we were playing nice. It was… it was tense and… I don’t want to say fake… superficial? I don’t know. 

It wasn’t...what I wanted. It wasn’t what Nie Huaisang deserved either.

And I knew the problem was me. I knew that I had latched on to someone to blame for what happened between me and Lan Zhan and he was the unfortunate victim of that. And it was lasting longer than it should have. 

But at the same time… Well we agreed that he wasn’t faultless in it either. He had given some bad advice. And there was a problem with his relationship with Lan Zhan. But the thing is, that issue had been talked out between them already. Long before I went off on him. So I was yelling at him for issues that had already been addressed. Which wasn’t fair. At all.

And I knew that. But like… I don’t know. I guess I’m just an asshole. 

But I called him the other day. I told him we needed to talk. 

“Oh thank god,” he said. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him sound so relieved. 

I think… I don’t know.. I don’t think it ever fully registered how important our friendship was to him. I don’t know why. I guess. I just… I was someone to goof around with. Be silly with. 

Like a bar friend? 

But no

We were more than that.

Are more than that.

I guess… I guess I’m guilty of the same thing Lan Zhan was. Both of us assumed that the friendship was more important to us than to him. 

And I don’t know if that’s because of how Nie Huaisang acts or if it’s more about how we see ourselves. Both maybe?

Nie Huaisang was from a different world. I met him at the martial arts studio with Jiang Cheng. He and Jiang Cheng are from the same world and I was a visitor. He knew that I was just a foster kid. Both of them are from rich circles. They hung with the Jins and the Lans and the other rich families. They were raised in a different world. 

And even though I couldn’t remember any time before I was 10, I was still raised before I met them. I came in with my own ways of living and understanding the world and it was clear that it was different from theirs. 

But they both met me in the middle. It was easy to get along with Nie Huaisang. He never asked too much from me. We would goof off and joke around. Nie Huaisang was always good to laugh with. And he was actually rather non-judgemental. Well. At least verbally. But it’s hard to take someone’s judgement seriously when it’s coming from eyes peering over a fancy decorated fan. 

Friendship with Nie Huaisang was easy. But he was always a comfort. When the pomp and circumstance became too much he was there to relieve the tension. He was conveniently there at a lot of those fancy events. He was forced to dress up and attend too. It was nice to have someone there to share in the misery. And he would seek me out with some bit of gossip or a joke.

Thinking back on it… you did that on purpose, didn’t you SangSang? You knew how in over my head I was and you helped me break the surface didn’t you? 

I think I just always figured I was a convenient buddy for you but it wasn’t that. 

I called you my family once but I don’t think I ever expected to be a part of your family too. 

That was wrong of me. That wasn’t fair of me. I know you tend to hide yourself behind your “I don’t knows’ and that fluttering fan. But…. You really are a good friend. 

We met for brunch. That turned into lunch. Which we knew would happen. Which is why we went for brunch. So that we’d meet in time for lunch. 

We know who we are as people. #noshame

There’s a place we used to go sometimes when we were really hungover. It was quiet and a bit out of the way and just… its nice. We haven’t gone there since… fuck we haven’t been there since before my birthday, have we? Well we were overdue I guess. 

We met up and sat down in the back so we wouldn’t have to worry about people overhearing. Some semblance of privacy. 

Maybe it would have been better to just do this at his place but I thought this was better. It was a place we both could leave if we had to. And it was a familiar place with warm memories. And it would keep me from getting too worked up, I thought. I didn’t want to go off on him again. That wasn’t the point.

I missed him and I missed his friendship. I wanted to fix things.

It started… awkward. 

We said hi and how are you and fell into an awkward silence as we waited for someone to come take our order. I realized this was the first time since Lan Zhan’s birthday that I’d been alone with him at all. 

This talk was long overdue. 

I think I cut him off. He was talking about some bird or something he’d seen on the way in and I Just… blurted out a beginning. 

“I’m sorry,” I said. 

I think I startled him because he just blinked at me. 

“I’m sorry, okay? I know I’m an asshole and I know I was blowing up way too much on you. And I know I’m holding onto this way too long and… I’m just… I’m still a bit angry.. But mostly I’m sorry.”

He smiled at me. It was… I don’t think I’ve ever seen a smile like that on his face. It was soft and sad and understanding. 

We talked then. We talked for a long time. We talked about why I was angry. We talked about how my yelling at him had made him feel. How it still was making him feel. How much we missed each other. 

We agreed that I took things too far. But we also agreed that his actions had been a problem too. 

“I never should have encouraged him to keep hiding. I was teasing but I forget sometimes how seriously he takes things. I never ever meant for it to blow up like this.”

“I know you didn��t.”

And we talked. 

And in the end… 

I think I talked before about pulling out a sliver. That the sliver had been inside so long that it was normal to me. That I didn’t notice it until it was time to drag it out. 

This was another sliver. It hadn’t been inside so long so I wasn’t used to it yet. But that didn’t make pulling it out any less painful. But that sliver… It was on the table between us and after it was out all I felt was a warm relief. 

The pain didn’t linger. But the warmth did. 

I was able to smile at him again. We were able to joke again. 

I’m so glad we talked.

I have NO idea how long we had been chatting but we eventually became aware that perhaps the restaurant would want its table back. We paid the bill…. Or well, I tried and Huaisang stole the bill away from me before I could. 

“I caused the problem. I pay the bill. When you fuck up next then you get to pay,” he said with a wink. I was about to protest, but he kept going. “Besides…. You might be mad at me again.”

Seeing Nie Huaisang being nervous.. Like legitimately nervous… is an odd and rare thing. I think I gave him a look or something because he laughed, even more nervous. 

“....whyyy?”

“Well, okay. So this.. I know we were just talking about me pushing people into plans whether they want to or not and I hear you, okay? BUT this isn’t that. This is an OPTION. So.”

“..................”

“Okay, so I HAVE still been reading your blog. And for the record, you two are disgusting now. Like absolutely disgusting. It is your right and I’m very happy for you but having known you both for so long I must inform you that oh my god. Like oh my god.”

“You’re… not really helping your case.”

“I know I know but you’re both my brothers so it’s gross.”

(Not gonna lie I may have choked up a bit at that. YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE DIDN’T YOU, HUAISANG?!?!?!)

“I’m not saying stop! You guys earned the right to be as disgusting as you want. I just wanted to put that out there.’

“Okay… so… is that what you wanted to talk about?”

“Oh no. That’s just… Making it clear. *ahem* Anyway! My POINT is this. 

“I noticed you’re worried about Lan Xichen not liking you.” !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“So I have asked him to meet us for some shopping.” !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Huaisa--” “BUT you don’t have to go. We talked about it before hand. He is waiting for us to meet him but he knows that you might not want to. So if you don’t want to go we don’t have to. He’s going to wait for us until about 3:30 and if we haven’t shown up by then he will go off on his own and no offense meant. And before you yell at me HE is the one who suggested it.  

“He wants to talk to you but he doesn’t want to put pressure on you. He knows you’ve been through a lot lately. And he wants to talk to you too. I didn’t tell him that you think he doesn’t like you. He does like you though. And he isn’t mad I promise. But he wants to meet. So if you’re okay with it we have about 45 minutes left to meet up with him.”

So… like… does my rambling… is it contagious? 

Still think nervous Huaisang is WEIRD.

In the end… Even though I really wanted to do ANYTHING BUT meet with Lan Xichen and confirm that he’s mad at me for nearly destroying his little brother and then running away to marry him in secret, I agreed. 

I was expecting that we were gonna go to some fancy hoity toity shop for rich bitches considering I’ve never seen Lan Zhan or Lan Xichen in anything but super high-quality stuff that probably cost more than my studio apartment’s monthly rent. 

BUT we went to the thrift store instead. Huaisang and I used to go there all the time once upon a time. We’d play a game of trying to find the worst outfits possible and making the other model it. 

Which may have kicked off Nie Huaisang’s tendency to wear the weirdest things. BUT IT WASN’T FAIR BECAUSE HE ALWAYS FOUND A WAY TO MAKE IT FUCKING WORK. THAT ISN’T HOW THE GAME IS SUPPOSED TO WORK YOU LITTLE SHIT. YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO MAKE GRANDMA SWEATERS LOOK LIKE HIGH FASHION!!!!

Anyway

Thrift store. We were there.

And Lan Xichen was there just like Huaisang said he would be. 

He was not difficult to spot seeing as he is super tall and very good looking. (Nothing on Lan Zhan though. No offence Xichen-ge) 

Naturally all the women and lots of the men were sneaking peeks at him through the aisles. 

Now I know I was trying to get him to like and forgive me. But something about being with SangSang brings out my inner goblin.

And he hadn’t seen us yet.

He was down the men’s button up aisle, kinda idly looking at a couple of different blue shirts. And he hadn’t seen us yet. 

So, following SangSang’s lead, we crouched down the next aisle and snuck up to where he was. Huaisang grabbed a safety orange colored cropped tank and we squeezed through the rack.

From Lan Xichen’s point of view, all he saw was a disembodied hand (Huaisang’s) with a hideous shirt thrust suddenly into his face with a spoopy voice (mine) saying “You want to try thiiiiis ooooone”

He is too dignified of a person to yelp but he did stagger back into the rack behind him with a startled gasp. 

The two of us emerged in a pile of giggles. He smiled indulgently at us and we apologized. 

Well..

No, I apologized and Huaisang said “I’m not sorry.” in response to my ‘sorry’, soooo.

Well either way. Lan Xichen laughed and we climbed out of the rack. 

“Did you two just arrive?” he asked, pointedly not commenting on the safety orange colored  shirt that SangSang was still trying to push into his arms. 

“Uh yeah. We saw you and you didn’t see us so we kinda couldn’t resist.”

He smiled again in a way that showed he was used to this kind of thing from Nie Huaisang. But it made me feel meek. 

I was suddenly reminded very forcefully that I was trying to get him to forgive me for shattering his brother’s heart into a million pieces, stomping it into the ground, pouring salt on the wound, and then coming back a week later to kidnap and marry him without telling anyone about it. 

And the best way to earn that forgiveness was probably not by scaring him in public. 

Nie Huaisang seemed to disagree. 

“Thanks for meeting us, Er-Ge!” he chirped.  (Er-Ge apparently because he was with Da-Ge and so that makes him Er-Ge?) 

“Of course! I was looking forward to this,” he said, turning his smile to me even though he was responding to Nie Huaisang. I gulped.

“Ah.. yeah… Me too,” I said. 

Nie Huaisang being openly nervous is weird. Me being openly nervous is apparently alarming. Because Lan Xichen placed his hand on my shoulder comfortingly. 

“I didn’t want to rush you, but I really did want to see you. I haven’t gotten to talk to you since… well…”

Now he looked uncomfortable. 

We were silent for a tense moment and then.

“I’m sor--**CRACK!!!**”

We had both tried to apologize to each other, complete with a bow, and cracked our skulls together. 

“You’re sorry??? Why on earth are you sorry?!” I asked, rubbing my forehead. 

“I’m the one who… the paintings… it was my fault,” he said, rubbing his chin. “But why would you have to apologize?”

“I… well… I… I hurt Lan Zhan… and you… and then.. Well we ran off together… I figured.. .well I figured you’d be pretty upset with me.”

He laughed a bit and I felt like a fool, even though his laugh wasn’t unkind. 

“So we have both been sitting here thinking the other party was angry with each other?” he asked softly, still laughing a bit. “Well then. I suppose that makes this easier.”

Nie Huaisang was smiling like a little shit. Apparently everything was going according to keikaku. (Translator’s Note; Keikaku means plan.)

“Wait you really thought I was mad at you?” I asked, disbelieving. 

“Well yes. I’d caused so much tension between you and Wangji. And then you went to such lengths to avoid me. I just… well.. Assumed. Incorrectly it would seem.

“But no, I was not angry with you. You had been through a lot. I won’t say I wasn’t upset at the time but I knew things were more complicated and I knew you would normally never hurt my brother that way. Besides you two made amends and I’ve never seen him this happy before. I could never be angry at you for that.”

Okay. So it was at this point that I suddenly realized

We were standing in the men’s shirts section of the local thrift store. And people were still staring. 

(Three strapping young men standing together making a scene? Of course they were staring.)

I coughed softly as I tried not to choke up again. I don’t like to cry in public thank you very much. 

“Ah well.. Uh… I’m… glad?” I said with the utmost grace and eloquence. He laughed. 

“For the record, I’m not mad at you either. I never was… well not really. Once the RE worked its way out at least. “

We laughed again and then got pushed together into an awkwardly squished hug by Nie Huaisang who apparently thought that was enough emotions to be getting along with.

I think I’ll still want to talk to Xichen-ge more properly at some point but it’s good to know that he really isn’t mad at me. 

At this point SangSang the Shenanigans Supreme decided that now was the time to stop being weepy and sorry and talking about our feelings and instead play the age old tradition. 

I tried to protest, saying that Lan Xichen would NOT want to play in the ‘pick the worst outfit’ game, but he insisted that it sounded interesting.

Huaisang shared the rules, though we changed them around a bit as there were now three of us. 

Each of us would pick out the worst outfit combinations we could for the other two and then we’d try them on. 

Like okay

So I would have to try on the two outfits that Xichen-ge and SangSang picked for me, which would be the worst combinations they could find in my size. And if they fit at all, like I can button it and it covers my nips and sit without blowing a seam I have to show it. 

And in the end, while i can mix and match between the two outfits, I have to wear a combination out of the store and finish the day in it. 

And the same goes for the other two. 

Now the thing is. We were all gonna meet Da-Ge for dinner after this. So Xichen-Ge would have to meet his beloved boyfriend (HOW COULD THEY HIDE THEY WERE DATING FOR SO LONG AND NONE OF US NOTICED???????????????????) wearing whatever monstrosity SangSang and I could scrape together. 

It was… Amazing. We gave each other our clothing sizes and a 30 minute time limit. 

The other two went first. And… the clothing… it was indescribable. 

Somehow. Lan Xichen ended up in brownish-orange corduroy bell-bottoms and a bright pink and highlighter-blue striped muscle shirt. 

It… oof… there are no words. 

BUT THEN

Huaisang put on like this vomit-colored patterned button down short sleeve shirt and okay I found these pants that were like… it was a gradient blue going from light at the bottom to dark at the top and covered in bacon strips? And bright pink pigs?  (We were gonna give it to Lan Xichen but his legs be toooo long so they didn’t fit.)

BUT FUCK YOU SANGSANG IT ISN’T SUPPOSED TO ACTUALLY WORK? LIKE FUCKING HOW???????????/

He walked out looking like some fucking high fashion super model. Apparently it’s all about confidence. Making it look like an intentional choice. Owning the cringe. 

No I think it’s just goblin magic. 

But then it was my turn. 

So.. like we model the clothes as is first, how they were given by the other two and then we do the final combination of our choice. 

And…

Well….

Huaisang knew that I was self-conscious about my burns because he read it on my blog. Lan Xichen… well there’s no way he could have known. 

And neither of them realized how much scarring there is. 

It’s light pink now and shiny and if I’m honest it’s not that bad. The burn wasn’t deep and it is fading. I’ve looked at pictures of other burn scars and well it could have been so much worse. 

But I see it. I feel it. My skin is tight when I turn my arm a certain way. 

He found this sleeveless metallic gold shirt with a V neck plunge so deep that it is held together barely by a stitch at the bottom seam. 

The scar on my chest covers most of my pec.  It stretches almost to the middle of my chest and a little more than half way down. It’s… it’s just very there. 

It’s not like it’s super stark or vivid or whatever. Like it’s just… it’s there. And i know it. 

And it took me a hot minute to get myself to step out of that fitting room.

Huaisang had started joking about me needing help closing the button of the pants (highlighter pink booty shorts with the pockets hanging out the bottom in a raggedy mess. Honestly, Xichen-ge I think you could have found uglier than that. Perhaps he ran out of time?)

Well… I took a deep breath and forced myself out.

I know I could have backed out. I could have explained. I could have just said it didn’t fit. I could have said anything to not have to.

 But… well.. Hey we’re supposed to be healing right? 

So I walked out and… 

The expression on their faces was exactly the expressions I had not wanted to see. 

They both paled and drew in their breath, their smiles dying as they both looked at my exposed chest. 

Lan Xichen started to apologise, saying he didn’t realize that the scarring was that bad and that I could have refused, but I wasn’t having it. 

In the end.

I’m actually pretty proud of myself.

His shirt is the one I picked. The shiny gold deep plunge V-neck and the iridescent windbreaker pants that SangSang picked out. 

I held my head up high and bought them and wore them out with pride. 

And.. well… In an outfit that loud I was gonna get stares anyway. So it kinda helped. Because it was kinda a divided attention. I know some people noticed the scar but the outfit was so much more obnoxious than some small blemish on my skin that no one but me would care about anyway.

It helped.

I’m gonna try buying more things that expose more of the burn. I don’t want to be ashamed of it. I earned those scars. I’m proud of that. 

I still don’t know that I’d call myself a hero. But those scars are proof that I helped Jiao-Jie. That she’s alive because of me. 

And before long the three of us were laughing again.

I never expected Lan Xichen to go along with this kind of a game but he played with us until the end. 

We met Da-Ge at yet another restaurant. He’d already gotten a table and ordered drinks for us. So when we arrived in all our splendor we ended up needing quite a few napkins to mop up his spit-take. 

It was amazing .

Lan Xichen even cuddled up to him, fishing for compliments on his new outfit. It was great. 

We got… a lot of attention. But the staff thought we were hilarious. Three amazingly handsome men in three amazingly NOT handsome outfits and one handsome man dressed like a normal human being. It was incredible. 

All too soon though it was time to go home.

And I came home prepared to surprise my darling husband with my new high-fashion aesthetic and instead HE surprised me with a whole new stove. 

Because the fire scared me. 

So he removed the fire. 

In the long run it will be good for me to face that fear. But that is one I’m going to take slowly. I don’t want this to end up like my fear of dogs. So I’ll ease into it. But I’ll take my time. 

And Lan Zhan… Oh Lan Zhan. 

He saw me in that holographic nightmare of an outfit. 

And had the gall to call me beautiful.

I think… I might take that as a personal challenge. Heehee. 

More on that later ;) I’ll let you all know what happens.