#id be so annoyed if i was one of the bakers

[escapetoluna]

"Did I roast them a bit too much" - Paul

The bloody audacity of this man setting a shit recipe, with terrible nonexistent instructions and giving a totally unrealistic time frame and then being shocked that none of the bakers succeeded???

The worst part is, I'm not even shocked anymore.

[paint-the-walls-white]

I don't share

Pairing: Possessive!König x Fem!Reader

Summary: König doesn't like sharing you, which is exactly why you had been married for almost ten years and none of his comrades knew about you. At least, not until he drunkenly spilled the beans and you showed up the next day with a box of cookies..

Warnings: Bondage! MDom! Doggy! CreamPie! OverStim! Oral(M2F)!

König was very secretive of his personal life on account of his social anxiety. He had been transfered to Task Force 141 for a while and had made pretty good friends with them, but of course, one night TF141 was making fun of him while drinking and in his own drunken haze he blurted out something that didn't go unnoticed,

"If you keep making fun of my wife, I'll kill you. Oh wait, that sounded like a joke; I will actually kill you."

He was very protective and possessive of you, which you didn't mind in the slightest. But he had accidently revealed that he had a wife, and everyone kept pestering him about it.

"I bet she's a strong lass aye? Big as an Ox! Only person that makes sense fer a mountain" Soaps slurred comment made him scoff as König kept sipping on his vodka, aggravated and embarrassed.

"What she do fer a living König? She a construction worker or somethin?"

König looked at Gaz with bewilderment. "A construction worker? where the hell did you get that? Gott.. Nein she's a baker."

Even Ghost was muttering how she probably had massive arms to carry 8 trays at once of protein bars. König kept to himself the rest of the night before returning home to you.

"Hi mein Liebe, I'm home." He pressed a kiss on your forehead, stripping off his tactical vest and mask then kicking off his boots.

"How was your night with the boys? Was it fun?"

He lied down on top of you, burying his face in your chest, crushing your small frame as he huffed annoyed.

"Kept making fun of you...Arschlöcher.. kept sayin you were a big burly lady.."

You snorted, running your fingers through his hair. You told him to ignore them because they didn't know what they were talking about, they were just trying to get a rise out of him.

He sighed, content in your arms as he fell into a drunken sleep on top of you, the crushing pressure more than welcomed.

The next day you decided to surprise König on base with a little gift. The guards of course did not believe that you were his wife so you pulled out the marriage certificate and your spouse ID card to shove it in their face. They were gob smacked as they discovered he had a wife and informed you he was currently at the cantina.

You were directed where to go, a box of chocolate chip cookies in had as you made your way there. Once inside, the place gradually got quiet as you made your way over to your husband giddy as his back faced you.

König was currently berating his friends about making fun of you again until he noticed that they weren't even paying attention, they were looking behind him.

He turned, and there you were, barely meeting his eye level while he was sitting, a box of cookies in hand adorned in a pleated pink skirt and a white tank top with a knit sweater and chunky white heels.

"Surprise! I brought you cookies Liebe!"

The horror that flooded his gaze was unmatched. He quickly wrapped around you to hide you from onlookers, glaring in their direction.

"Mein Liebe, what are you doing here? You are for my eyes only!"

You pouted into him, pushing off of his chest, "I wanted to surprise you," His eyes softened and he huffed, turning to glare at the men at the table who were still gaping in your direction.

"Thas your wife König? The lass is like half your size!" Soap stared on in horror, you could tell what he was thinking about so you hid in his shirt.

"Let's go." He stood, throwing you over his shoulder and flattening your skirt over your ass. Your face was red as you tried to keep the box from being crushed, and you just stared down, completely embarrassed.

"König put me down!" You kicked your legs, trying to fight him off, but he just smacked your ass and carried you out of the cantina, everyone completely silent.

"What the hell just happened." Ghost shrugged at Soaps comment and just kept eating silently.

König had carried you all the way to his quarters, gently placing you on the bed. The blood had rushed to your head so you were bright red.

He knelt, taking off your shoes and rubbing at your sore feet.

"Why did you think this was a good idea mein Liebe? Hmm?"

"I just wanted to bring you a treat.. I thought you'd like seeing me here.."

König sighed, kissing your shin before he looked up at you with his piercing gaze.

"Lamm, I can't keep my eyes off of you, which means neither can other men. I'm the only one that gets to look at you. Du bist mein."

You huffed and averted your gaze, cheeks a bright pink as you handed him a cookie.

"Still, you didn't have to make a scene.." He simply chuckled and stood.

"I know you like it when I toss you around Liebling, you cant fool me. I know you loved the attention."

He caged you in on the bed, prompting you to lie on your back, legs hanging off the edge. You pulled up his mask to reveal his mouth and pressed your lips to his. König groaned softly, slanting his lips against yours, intensifying the kiss.

You moaned and panted into his mouth, whimpering at the flavor of his tongue against yours. He ran a hand up your thigh, squeezing your soft skin in his calloused hands.

He pulled away to attack your neck, sucking and biting at the exposed skin

"K-König.. what if someone sees-!"

"Don't care.. they need to know who you belong to... Du bist mein..."

You squirmed underneath him, far too excited at the attention he was giving you, especially when he slipped a finger under your panties and rubbed at your sloppy folds.

"Scheiße.. du bist so wet for me Liebe.."

You watched with dazed eyes as he slid off the bed onto his knees, dragging you to the edge of the bed where he ripped off your underwear and started sucking on your clit. You immediately grabbed at the fabric of his mask and threw your head back, arching into his mouth as you moaned loudly.

König quickly sunk two fingers into your wet cunt, rubbing at your sensitive walls as he fucked you with his hand. You met his gaze and whimpered as he continued eating you out like a starved man. He moaned against your pussy as you came on his hands and face, plenty of slick being absorbed into the fabric hiding his face.

A soft whine escaped as he cleaned up your mess with his tongue, savoring every drop of your arousal. He stood, sucking his fingers clean as he stared down at your spent form lying limply on the bed.

"Braves Mädchen.."

You lied there, staring at him as you tried to grasp a single thought after that mind blowing orgasm, but you just blushed when you noticed his dick straining against his pants.

"What is it Liebling? You want more? Dirty little slag..."

Gnawing on your lip, you nodded, completely drunk on his attention. The sound of his belt being unbuckled and shucked from his pants immediately made you throb for him.

He bound your wrists with the belt, flipping you on your stomach so you were bent over the side of the bed. You had to stand on your toes, causing your legs to shake at the stretch.

"König.. Please.." He chuckled at your desperate plea as he forced your knees back onto the bed so your hips met his. He rubbed the head of his cock along your slick folds, teasing you by swiping over your clit.

You whined, burying your face further into the mattress as the friction of the blanket rubbed against your knees. König sunk the head of his cock into you, eliciting a pitiful moan as he stretched you wide, this fat cock stuffing into you inch by inch.

He groaned softly at the friction, praising you for taking him so well, "It's like you were made for me Mein Liebe, wrapped so fucking tight around me... Scheiße.."

He slowly pulled out then sunk back in, reveling in the feel of your gummy cunt wrapping tight around his meaty shaft. You whined, pressing against him to meet each thrust, tears staining the mattress as you took his cock.

König nearly growled every time you sucked him back in, head thrown back as he pulled your hips against his.

"I don't share Liebling.. You're all mine.. Only I get to see you.. get to fuck you... Scheiße.."

He moaned as you tightly squeezed around him, creaming on his dick. He watched as a ring of white collected at the base of his cock, stuffing it all the way in before spurting thick ropes of cum into your cunt.

He pulled out slowly, his cum leaking down your thighs as you whimpered at the empty feeling. He gently undid the belt around your wrists and pressed a kiss to your forehead through his mask.

"Stay there Liebling, Ill clean you up.."

König stepped away to get a washcloth soaked in warm water, gently cleaning off the arousal that had covered your legs and folds, placing a gently kiss on your ass and putting your underwear, socks and shoes back on for you.

"Now let's get you out of here, I don't need anyone else looking at my beauty.." you just nodded slowly and tried to rise on shaky legs. Clinging to his arm, he walked you back to your car, many onlookers staring in shock and utter horror.

He raised his mask above his nose and pressed a soft kiss to your lips before letting you leave. When you started the car, window still rolled down, he listened intently to the radio, realizing you were listening to his playlist.

Rein, Raus

Rein, Raus

Rein, Raus..

You flushed, turning down the radio and meekly met his gaze, "I like that song.. Reminds me of you.."

His piercing blue eyes told you all you needed to know. When he got home, you wouldn't be going anywhere for a while.

Because he was going to make sure you couldn't walk.

[piscesnspices]

ᴘᴀsᴛʀʏ sʜᴏᴘ

🎧 Bᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ Sɴᴏᴡ Lᴀᴜғᴇʏ & Nᴏʀᴀʜ Jᴏɴᴇs ↻ ◁ ɪɪ ▷ ↺

.・。.・゜✭・.

A gust of cold air whistled through the opening of the door, louder than the bell hung at the top of the door. With an abrupt shiver running up and down a young baker's spine, she broke concentration from the cookies she was icing.

"Hello?"

Scrunched brows, those of the baker, approached the front counter.

"I'm sorry sir, but we're closed."

A young man who carried a frantic look on his face, proceeded in long strides and hands stretched out meeting the bakers.

"Please, I need a cake. My idiot friend dropped one in the pool."

An amused scoff escaped from her lips, slipping her hands out of the strangers. Despite his desperate efforts, the thought of a cake being dropped into the pool in the midst of December seemed difficult to get past.

"A pool? How do you-"

"He's an idiot," He quickly responded, shaking his head annoyed, allowing a few loose strands to fall from his once perfectly gelled hair. It's given her the idea that he might've ran all this way for a rebound cake. Also taking into consideration the heavy pants and sweat bead beginning to form at the temples of his head.

"Do you think you could make me another one?"

The baker peeked at the clock past his shoulder, noticing the late hour. There's no doubt that every shop had been closed off by now. She was this stranger's last hope, creating a weight pressing onto her shoulders. "Okay."

His eyes lit up and the relief had taken over him, pulling the bakery for a hug over the counter.

"Sir?" Her voice cracks, stiff as a board, awkwardly patting the back of the stranger who had her in his arms.

"Sorry." He quickly pulled away, scratching a non-existent itch at the back of his neck.

There was a pause as she tried to hold back a smile at his shy demeanor.

"You can come around back." She gestured for him to follow. "No one's here."

The young man had followed, nose in the air, taking in the scent of freshly baked pastries. The warmth of goodies in the oven around them wrapped him cozily, in contrast to the winter wonderland outside.

Tightening and flattening out the apron around her waist she moved fluidly around the kitchen, setting aside a batch of cookies, clearing the area before taking on her new task.

"What kind of cake would you like?" She asked, dusting her hands off.

"Do you think you can make a white chocolate cake layered with strawberry filling?"

She stops in her path to look over at him with widened eyes, "No actually...I'm afraid I haven't mastered that yet,"

His mouth is agape with worrisome eyes, trying to muster up something to say without any actual words spilling out his mouth. That is, until the baker drops the act at his genuine reaction.

"Kidding." She chuckled softly.

He scoffs, and his eyes falling into crescents as he smiles. The ice had been melted away with the warmth in their smiles.

The stranger silently watched her work intently. Never losing sight of her actions and attention to detail. In wonderment of what exactly goes on in her mind while she works with such focus.

"I'm Isaac, by the way."

"Isaac, I'm Andie." She introduced herself, looking back at him.

He'd already been smiling, though the eye contact between each other had caught him off guard. The corners of his lips spread wider, and he'd caught a better glimpse of her up close, noticing her honey skin decorated in specs of rogue chocolate splatters, and a stubborn hair on her cheek that he'd have the sudden urge to brush away, allowing him to fully admire. Of course, he refrains.

"So Isaac, how did your idiot friend drop your cake in the pool?"

Andie continuously uses his name, allowing it to dance and roll of her tongue the way it does. And she liked it.

Isaac releases a breathy laugh, shaking his head away as the memory replays in his mind.

"That man," He sighs, yet the smile doesn't fail at the thought of this cherished friend.

"We're hosting Christmas on the rooftop this year, and he'd thought it was a good idea to make one trip, with both the cake and a tray of biscuits on his arms. Unfortunately, because the cake was too heavy, he dropped the cake into the pool as he made way for outside."

Nabi snickered, eyes cheerful while her hands work on the batter. All the while, imagining what kind of life this guy must've lived for his rooftop to have a pool. Now thinking about it, he did have that city boy look.

It was sort of boy meets Breakfast at Tiffany's, only he was a male Holly Golightly, dressed in classic black attire with a designer coat that suited him fancy with his tall, lean figure and even proportions. And you can't forget the polished shoes, a blinding watch on his wrist and glittering rings adorning his slim fingers. Perhaps a businessman?

"Why are you working so late on Christmas?" He asked, growing intrigued by the young baker who unintentionally poked his brain for answers.

"Believe it or not, the mornings after Christmas Day are always the busiest." Andie answers with a familiar sting in her heart. "I've got to make sure we have enough pastries prepared."

Isaac's eyes softened at the way her smile lost its glow. It was best to leave it at that, and so he does while taking a glance around the kitchen til' his eyes fall on a batch of holiday cookies.

She's just about ready to fill a tin with a batter, before Isaac stops her, taking her by the wrist gently.

"Wait-"

"Do you think you could add a pattern? Like, when you cut into it, you'd see stripes like a candy cane."

"I could, but it would take a little while longer." She replied, but with instant realization she adds on, "Not that I don't want to. make it that way for you... I just assumed you were in a rush."

Isaac smiles, letting go of her wrist.

"I'm not in a rush. I would actually like to help."

Her skin tingles where his hand had previously wrapped around her wrist.

"Sure. You can help."

His brows shoot up as he fixed his posture.

"Don't worry, you won't ruin it." Andie reassures.

"I'm not too sure about that. My mom doesn't call me clumsy for nothing."

She laughs, but the look on his face says that he was being serious. Nonetheless, he was more than happy to help. His heart did somersaults and stomach was home to hundreds of butterflies.

Having washed his hands and wrap an apron around his waist, he stood by Andie's side curiously.

"Is it okay if-" her fingers pointed at his hands.

The confusion in his eyes was quickly wiped away when he realized what she had been shyly asking.

"Yeah," He nodded, eyes studying the details of her smaller hands.

Andie's hands gently held his, and his breath was caught in his through when he felt the warmth. She guided him through the proper filling making process, explaining the procedure in great detail, though her grew distracted by the thumping in his heart and the fire on his skin where she touched him.

"Isaac?" Blinking away his thoughts, he'd realize her hands were no longer holding his. Isaac looked down at his own hands and still felt the sensation as if the feeling was tattooed onto his skin.

"You think you can do it?"

"Sorry?" He replied as he had not paid attention to a single word said.

"It's okay, I can do it. You can help yourself to some cookies instead."

"No, I can do it." He smiled with determination, "But, do you mind showing me one last time?"

She nods, going over the instructions thoroughly without the physical action of explaining.

"I mean- do you mind holding my.."

"...Sure" She laughed softly

Andie held his hands once again, sparking up the same bubbly feeling at each other's core. She paused, studying his hands before looking up and finding him already staring back at her.

Isaac's eyes glimmered and her heart raced at the simplicity of it all. Though, there was nothing simple about the way both hearts race for each other.

ᴍᴏsᴀɪᴄ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ

[throughpatchesofviolet]

Alright ... I think I've collected enough information to set forth a brief summary of this AU ...

I Uptied Faust's MultiCrack ID so I could get a bit more info (and also keep her stuff maxed out), and found out the Office was traveling to District 20 not just for contract work, but also to meet with Workshops and form connections with them. This worked very well with my initial idea for Sherry in this Mirror World: an independent Fixer who manages a Workshop rather than an Office! Probably going to keep it in line with her usual lore and say it's Baker Street Workshop instead of Baker Street Office ... it just fits her too well to change.

Anyway, onto the details! Though Sherry markets herself as an "independent" Workshop, she actually has a lot of connections to other Workshops, largely thanks to Mycroft being employed by T. Corp--people like getting in the good graces of people who have ties to the Wings, after all. Thus, she has extensive knowledge of a lot of different prosthetics, and her affiliations allow her to repair and upgrade those prosthetics without repercussions. In fact, a lot of Workshops rely on her to take appointments involving repairs, especially when they're overbooked.

Sherry does, of course, create her own prosthetics, but she hasn't been able to find anyone willing to try them in the field, yet ... and she, not having any prosthetics herself, can't try them, either. This is annoying to her, but she doesn't let it bother her too much--as long as she has clients, even if they're sent from other Workshops, she can get by.

Also!! Watson exists in this AU! Since he's a doctor who specializes in helping people adjust to living with prosthetics. Fun little addition ~

Now, the Heathcliff things ... during the inventor's convention the MultiCrack Office Fixers attend, Faust takes an interest in Sherry's prosthetics, and they arrange for her Workshop to be one they regularly engage with. Thus, Heathcliff ends up being one of her clients--but they also meet once or twice in the field before that. I'm withholding those details in hopes of writing a fic in the future. /lh

[ask-row-and-friends]

Uh... hey everyone! The names Rowan! Prince of Valourinth, but uh... I'd... rather not use that title... so just call me Rowan!

This is a blog I put together so that me and my friends can interact with those beyond our dimension! Pretty neat, huh?

Though I suppose I should explain a little bit about our own dimension... uh... you may have to bear with me then, this is gonna be a long post...

[Skip to the bottom for tags and rules, fair warning this is extremely long]

[Anything in these brackets is OOC]

[Currently available to ask: Rowan, Sajan]

-☆-☆-☆-

If I am to give to some basic information about our world, we have a little colour system here that determines if one is a sin or a virtue, this being seen in one's eye colour.

For example with myself, I have purple eyes! That means I am either a virtue of Hope or a sin of Envy... uh... in MY case it's the latter...

Here's a little chart to hopefully make things a bit easier!

My friend and I happen to make up many of these sins and virtues, actually thinking about it now, I think we have at least one of everything here! That's pretty neat to think about!

Uh... anyways, here's some basic descriptions of each of my friends! Uh... I'll maybe update this later if needed (or if my friends want to contribute themselves).

[This will also be particularly long, sorry 😭]

-☆-☆-☆-

Sajan - Sin of Lust

Sexuality/Gender: Pansexual, he/him

Occupation: Performer/Assassin

Personality: Cocky, reckless, dramatic.

Likes: Art and drawing, theatrics, dancing, singing, roses.

Dislikes: Bigots, perverts, cold weather.

Rowan's notes: I mean... he's my ex-boyfriend if that needs to be said? I dunno, we're on good terms though...

Helia - Sin of Pride

Sexuality/Gender: Bisexual, she/they

Occupation: Online influencer

Personality: Stuck up, pretentious, vane, materialistic, snooty.

Likes: Social media, fashion, sewing, tea, victorian/medieval history.

Dislikes: Dirt and mud, insects, just anyone who happens to annoys her.

Rowan's notes: She's probably going to kill me when she see's my description of her... but uh... a-at least her new influencer career is going well!

Radiance - Sin of Wrath

Sexuality/Gender: Unlabelled, he/him

Occupation: Prince

Personality: A little pompous, hot headed, easily annoyed, paranoid.

Likes: Books, writing, quiet spaces, tea (though only in a very specific way).

Dislikes: Complete solitude, dark rooms, anything that may set off his paranoia.

Rowan's notes: He still scares me a little after the whole uh... 'void incident'... we're still good buddies though!

Ide - Sin of Gluttony

Sexuality/Gender: Aro/Ace, she/her

Occupation: Baker

Personality: Bubbly, energetic, generous and kind-hearted.

Likes: Sweet treats (both eating and making them), gardening, bird spotting.

Dislikes: Unknown (does she hate anything??).

Rowan's notes: I gotta remember to ask about some of her recipes, they're just too good!

Mari (Maria Nerezza) - Sin of Greed

Sexuality/Gender: Pansexual, she/her

Occupation: Con artist (sorry Mari, but it's true)

Personality: Mischievous, sneaky, a total prankster.

Likes: Money, cool shiny items, pranks, anything circus themed, alchemy and spells.

Dislikes: People using her full name, being called on her bluffs, anyone she deems a 'party pooper' or 'lame'.

Rowan's notes: She's... interesting... gotta keep her away from my crystal collection though...

Rowan (me!) - Sin of Envy

Sexuality/Gender: Gay/Ace, transmasc he/him

Occupation: Prince (I suppose? Still working on that...)

Personality: Maybe shy, a little paranoid? I guess I just... like to help people!

Likes: Crystal's (I collect them!), magic, stars/space, music.

Dislikes: Certain textures and smells, glitter, feathers, just messy things in general really... butterfly's and moths.

Rowan's notes: Hah... kinda weird to describe myself... uh... not like I'm all that interesting honestly...

Igo - Sin of Sloth

Sexuality/Gender: Bisexual, he/him or any

Occupation: Detective

Personality: Stoic, brooding, lethargic, lazy.

Likes: Coffee, anything strawberry flavoured or themed, the colour pink, wearing dresses (he can actuslly rock a dress pretty well!).

Dislikes: Close-minded individuals, loud noises, strong smells, bright flashing lights.

Rowan's notes: His wolf form is kinda scary, but also kinda cute! He has very fluffy hair, I really gotta ask what product he uses for it.

Azaezel - Virtue of Faith

Sexuality/Gender: Pansexual, he/she

Occupation: N/A (I need to ask honestly...)

Personality: Optimistic, positive, determined.

Likes: Animals, bright colours, rain, thunderstorms.

Dislikes: Warm weather, tension/drama, sticky things.

Rowan's notes: I guess we're both kinda ambassadors for our teams? Still don't really know the guy all too well though, his brother barely let's me speak to him...

Ezekiel - Virtue of Faith

Sexuality/Gender: Bisexual, he/they

Occupation: Adventurer

Personality: Pessimistic, hot-tempered, insecure, overly loyal to those close to him.

Likes: Playing the guitar, fighting, rock and heavy metal bands, swords, action films.

Dislikes: Any talks of his past, being grabbed or touched suddenly, being talked down to, any lose of control, dogs/canine creatures.

Rowan's notes: VERY protective of Azaezel, practically death stares you if he thinks you're doing something bad to him... it's kinda scary...

Damien - Virtue of Humility

Sexuality/Gender: Gay, he/him

Occupation: Adventurer

Personality: Generous, open-minded, empathetic, extremely grateful and respectful.

Likes: Astrology, mythology, puzzle games, origami, fireflies.

Dislikes: Airplanes, crowded areas, windy and damp weather, foggy weather, loud noises.

Rowan's notes: We both really like space stuff, it's pretty cool! He definetely knows a lot more about the stars than I do, I really need to read up on it more...

Vincent (Vinny) - Virtue of Prudence

Sexuality/Gender: Bisexual, he/him

Occupation: Musician

Personality: Hyperactive, optimistic, sunshine personality.

Likes: Classical music, dancing, 90's and early 2000's cartoons, silent films.

Dislikes: Being talked down to, crowded/claustrophobic spaces, large bodies of water.

Rowan's notes: And I thought Ide was high energy... he's just... he's way too hyperactive for me to handle...

Cilantre - Virtue of Temperance

Sexuality/Gender: Pansexual, any pronouns

Occupation: Adventurer/Sorcerer

Personality: Anxious, squimish, fidgety, overly worried (not only for themself, but others I've found).

Likes: Things that glow, sparkly things, quiet spaces, set routine and schedules (honestly, same).

Dislikes: Talking to new people, socialising, loud and sudden noises, buzzing insects.

Rowan's notes: They're a nervous guy, I can respect that. I mostly see them whenever I'm having some quiet time to myself, it's just nice to be around them.

Vitani - Virtue of Charity

Sexuality/Gender: Unlabelled, transfem she/her

Occupation: Rockstar

Personality: Loud, shameless, boisterous, rebellious.

Likes: Anarchy, anything punk rock, singing, dancing, playing in her band, being loud.

Dislikes: Bigots of any and all kinds, law enforcement, propaganda, 'money hungry assholes' (her words, not mine).

Rowan's notes: She's so cool! Very high energy though, just a little too strong on the hugs...

Harmonia - Virtue of Hope

Sexuality/Gender: Omnisexual, she/her

Occupation: Librarian

Personality: Quiet, passive, stern and fierce if provoked.

Likes: Horror, mystery, history, folk lore, novels, the goth aesthetic, grimdarks.

Dislikes: Anything cutesy or 'tame', anything too sugary or sweet (hurts her teeth apparently), hot weather.

Rowan's notes: I don't know much about her, I just know she really likes horror and stuff? Vitani said she's cool, I'm more inclined to trust her word than what little knowledge I have on her. Though... if there's one thing I do know it's that Helia is mighty jealous of her.

Djal - Virtue of Fortitude

Sexuality/Gender: Unlabelled, he/him

Occupation: Bodyguard

Personality: Overly-protective, stoic, assertive.

Likes: Unknown.

Dislikes: Annoying people(???), small talk.

Rowan's notes: I know he's Vincent's boyfriend, but that's about it. I've always been too afraid to approach him... I don't think I'm the only one either...

-☆-☆-☆-

Phew, that was long... but hopefully very helpful for you guys! Hmm now... maybe I should put a little chart together! Show you guys what everyone's relationships are like, that sounds like a good idea, right?

So how's about I do just that!

-☆-☆-☆-

[Sins Chart:]

[Virtues Chart:]

[Everyone:]

-☆-☆-☆-

So uh... yeah! That's about it I think! Me and my friends look forward to your potential questions! We'll try to answer them as best we can!

Hopefully my friends are available for questions aswell... uh... I'll try to let you guys know if any of them are unavailable for questions, maybe I'll even see if I can ask others to pass on certain questions? I don't know... we'll have to wait and see if that's the case...

-☆-☆-☆-

[Okay this is the start of the more OOC section, the rules, potential notes, etc for those who want to interact with this blog]

For starters: my main account is @k1ng-r0wan for those wondering, it's where I post art of the ocs part of this blog and other stuff (feel free to send asks other there aswell if you want!)

Moving onto the rules for this blog:

1) I will not do anything NSFW, the furthest I'd likely go is maybe making sex jokes with Sajan.

2) If I suddenly go dark on this ask blog then either assume I haven't got any asks to reply to or I'm just busy (the latter is most likely since I'm busy with uni).

3) I can do some out of character replies or non-canon posts (I do love myself some shitposts every now and again lol), those posts will be tagged as such.

4) Other blog interactions are welcome here, even if they make 0 sense with my characters universe (hell, I got inspired simply by interacting with an ask blog in character).

5) Shipping is allowed, all of the characters mentioned here are over 18. I don't mind possibly responding to asks about ships.

6) If I don't respond to an ask then either assume I don't know how to respond or I don't feel comfortable responding to it.

7) I am possibly planning to allow certain characters take over the blog instead of Rowan on occassion (potentially some who aren't listed here), I may potentially take requests for certain characters to take over.

8) I might talk about sensitive topics, but I will try to actively avoid them. If I do discuss a more sensitive topic then I'll add trigger warnings in the tags (inform me if I potentially miss something that might require one).

9) Kinda just want to add this incase something pops up in future, but I am autistic, I might misunderstand certain asks and thus want to make that clear here incase that happens in the near future. Please inform me if I misunderstood an ask.

10) The main purpose of this blog is to simply explore and develop my characters better and to lore dump, if certain designs or lore get changed I will simply tag it to say its not canon anymore. This blog is mainly just for fun at the end of the day.

May add more if needed.

DNI: Pedos, proshippers, bigots, etc.

-☆-☆-☆-

Side note:

I am planning some potential time jumping or flashbacks, so this is a simple reference for how you can tell whether something is in the present or the past:

-☆-☆-☆-

Tags I may use:

#Ask_Row&Friends - main tag

#Row&Friends_Chain - for rp responses and such

#OOC_Row&Friends - ooc posts

#[name of character]_Ask - for specific character asks/responses

#KR non-canon - the not so canon events (mostly shitposts)

#KR lore - lore tag I tend to use in general with my characters

I'll add more if needed, but I hope y'all enjoy this silly little blog :)

[delicatebluebirdruins]

image id: gif from @spiderfamilyvalues reading hell to the yeah end id

like anyone who knows me knows my feelings about the guide and BIR... Bucket of Salt over most of what is said and disappointment thank you for writing this

I have a few thoughts

there is a reason why Alias popped into my head and inspired me to write a pre 7 fic (Alias season one main character works for a covert branch of the cia she tells fiance this and he gets killed and she learns she was actually working for the bad guys) like all we have is speculation (though I don't know what criminal organisation would let people involved in the super criminal part go with a cheery wave and a too da loo- silly thought we all know that Mia would have not made it through the door after quitting and Ethan would probably be dragged in as well)

the only part of the baker incident report i actually ike is Zoe wanting to see Ethan and Mia and thank them properly (also no mention of Joe what the hell?)

and to an extent I understand why Mia didn't want a bunch of stranger to tell the story she should do herself (and then she apparently didn't)

but its all speculation in the end and if the word of god being SoR is the end of the winters saga is to be believed we really won't get answered (god i hope not resident evil comes in 3s and to break that would be so annoying and disappointing)

The Baker Incident Report and the Resident Evil 7 Guidebook

While I’m talking obscure sources of RE7 lore, there's a couple more I’ve been poking through lately: the Baker Incident Report file (only available with the RE8 Trauma Pack DLC), and the BIOHAZARD 7 resident evil kaitaishinsho or RE7 guidebook (only available in Japanese, though some translations have made their way online).

I’m not the biggest fan of these kinds of ‘canon’ – fans shouldn’t have to go pouring through pages of DLC-exclusive-text-dumps or untranslated supplements to find out WTF was supposed to be going on – and both of these have other problems I’ll get into below. All that said, here's some of the more interesting new info they give us.

From the BIR, the Winters were moved to ‘Eastern Europe’, as witness protection from the Connections. That's still frustratingly unspecific, but more than we’re ever explicitly told in the game.

The lab that created Eveline is in Munich, Germany, per the BIR. This one does add up: close enough to Eastern Europe for Miranda to be involved, but not so close that it would necessarily ring alarm bells for Mia when the BSAA wanted to move them right to Miranda’s doorstep. Mia’s obviously been to the Munich lab, but presumably didn’t know exactly where the mould comes from (something redacted out even in their own reports). The guidebook also places the lab in Europe, but doesn't give a city. The BIR adds that the Connections are active in Eastern Europe, and we know they have facilities in Central America. Presumably there are offices in Texas too ‒ Mia can't be commuting cross continents to get to work every day.

Eveline was shipped to Central America due to an attempted raid by the BSAA, which is far more we learn from the "Orders" file from the game. The BIR goes so far as to imply that this botched operation was indirectly responsible for the whole Baker Incident, with Chris and his team leaving due to their frustration with the BSAA's attempts to cover the incident up. The guidebook, however, tells us Chris Redfield was actually the guy leading the team behind the failed raid. I assume we’re meant to take it that the mission failed because of an info leak, but I’m still amused by just how ineffectual this franchise keeps making Chris out to be.

Post RE7, Zoe is working as a reporter for a small paper in New Orleans. We don't know if she too went through witness protection but her name was listed among the dead at the Baker mansion.

Ethan is called a systems engineer in both the guide book and the BIR (this one does seem to have been spread around fandom more widely).

Eveline was created in the early 2000s, according to the guidebook. This one really doesn't add up for me: if the project started in 2000 and had already advanced through the A-E series by the early 2000s, why did it stagnate there for the next 10 years without further progress? Did Miranda leaving the project set it back so far? They can't have been waiting for Eveline to grow up, she can age 25x faster than usual, and is being deliberately maintained at the age of a 10yo girl. IDEK, I'd be inclined to ignore this one.

The guidebook states that Mia told people she worked for a "trading company," and was often away from home for work, something which had already strained the Winters’ marriage. I'd guess she told people she spent a lot of time accompanying shipments of goods when she was really smuggling materials or taking part in covert operations for the Connections.

The guidebook gives 2010 as the year she started working for the Connections (a year before her marriage to Ethan in 2011, though it doesn’t mention when they met, which may well have been 2010 or earlier). Mind you, this is also the one bit that randomly calls her "a researcher", so take it as you will (more on this below).

Of Mia's involvement with the project that created Eveline, it says only that the Connections' Special Agents Alan and Mia were assigned to transport Eveline to America. No real indication Mia was ever involved before then.

Of Mia's relationship to Eveline, it says that Mia "found Eveline creepy, but felt sympathy for her lonely situation." You and the rest of us, Mia.

Eveline forced Mia to lure Ethan to the Bakers' property in hope that adding Ethan to their family would make Mia more compliant, according to the guidebook. Eveline was especially fixated on Mia, having known her longer than the Bakers, and was frustrated with Mia's continued resistance to her control. Mia seems to have tried to keep Ethan's existence secret from Eveline to protect him, but somehow let it slip. All this is already implied in-game, of course, but it's nice to have it spelt out.

The Bakers feed people infected food because “oral and mucosal infections” are supposedly better for mould-powered mind-control. Ethan is obviously already infected AF well before their attempts to feed him 'dinner' (there's no way his severed hand would be usable otherwise), but IDK, maybe ingesting some extra mould would have made it easier for Eveline to control him? I'm sure a 10yo girl and a family of hillbillies do not have this down to an exact science, and I wouldn't even be surprised if feeding people mould was counter-productive somehow, given their success rate.

So why did none of those infected prisoners join Eveline's "family" alongside the Bakers? The guide book tells us simply that all were "deemed unfit" as family members, and were thus killed, and converted into molded instead.

We get official names for all the molded types we meet in the game (Moulded, Blade Moulded, Quick Moulded and Fat Moulded – pretty self-explanatory).

As a side-note, Ethan himself gets referred to as a ‘molded’ around this fandom a lot, which really isn’t correct. Ethan’s infected by the mold in the same manner as the Baker family, whereas ‘molded’ is a term coined to describe what amounts to mutamycete zombies (see above): the unintelligent, inhuman monsters that made up the generic enemy types of RE7, whose whole bodies are simply “superorganisms formed of countless mycelia.”

The guide book also implies that Jack’s final, mutated form reflects that he’s starting to become a moulded himself, which is a very interesting little detail.

Notes attached to concept art suggest that most moulded are created from dead bodies, covered by mould in bathtubs to convert them. Eveline is also seen spontaneously converting people to shapeless mould though, and clearly converted much of the ship’s crew into moulded-creatures in a very short time after her escape. It’s not super-consistent, but it is all horror-logic at its best (read: the rules are whatever will make this scene scarier).

There’s a bunch of additional stuff in the BIR naming the Connections’ founder as Brandon Bailey, someone who naturally has ties to Umbrella, blah, blah, blah ‒ I’m sure it all means more to fans of some of the older games. I can't pretend to have much interest in this part myself.

So with all that interesting info, what's my big problem with these sources? Well, for one thing, you don’t have to look far into the guidebook to find info that contradicts what we already know – and sometimes even itself. One page clearly describes Mia as a special agent working for the Connections ‒ a description that matches the wording used in the Orders document, and everything we see Mia doing in the game. But then another page randomly tells us Mia was hired as "a researcher" ‒ a description that matches nothing else we know about her (though it's an irritatingly common misconception, and this book may be the reason why). No-one's checking any of this stuff for consistency.

The guidebook also features such other gems as telling us Ethan currently lives and works in Los Angeles, when both Mia’s driver’s license and all geographical logic tell us they’re from Texas. Then there's that weird bit about Eveline being created in the early 2000s... and realistically, I can only assume a lot of what made it into the book may have come from earlier concept notes that were never updated as the story developed ‒ and if you read anything else on the production of this game, you'd know that concepts changed massively as development went on.

But more frustrating is everything the book doesn’t tell us. There isn’t a word said about the oh-so-mysterious "imprinting protocol" that Mia references in the game. How does it work? Is it, as the ending text spiel seems to imply, merely something that can be implemented in a hurry when Eveline needs to be transported across the globe? Can she be imprinted on more than one person at once? Has she ever been imprinted on anyone else? That seems likely, given that the lab’s in Munich while Mia lives in Texas (and if she's really been around since the early 2000s and Mia joined the company only in 2010, she logically must have been), but we don’t find out. Does Eveline get similarly obsessed with everyone she’s imprinted on, or is Mia special? Not a clue.

Since the guidebook was released in March 2017, long before the Not a Hero and End of Zoe DLCs, neither expansion is mentioned in the text. And since we don’t even learn the name ‘The Connections’ until the Not A Hero DLC, the group that created Eveline is referred to simply as the “mysterious organisation” (with quotes) whenever it comes up.

Nothing is said in the guidebook about the new incarnation of Umbrella which was so prominently involved at the end of RE7 either. Possibly, this too was to avoid spoilers for Not A Hero, which does at least give us some info on them – but then, the Baker Incident Report doesn’t mention the new Umbrella at all either, and it doesn’t have that excuse. That omission is all the stranger, considering that Zoe’s whole purpose in writing it is supposedly to expose the cover-up after the Baker Incident – doesn’t Umbrella factor into that at all? It’s like their whole role in RE7 has just wiped clean.

It's also obvious there was so much more lore written for this game that the guide book doesn’t share. Early versions of collectable documents that can still be found in the game files give the D-series head and arm some fascinating backstory, but there’s nothing about them in the guide book, which is a real shame.

Mia especially stands out as a character who must have so much backstory we never hear anything about. How did she get involved with a company as evil as the Connections? How did she justify it to herself for so long – what excuses did she make to herself? Did she genuinely believe they were finding ways to win wars without losing soldiers? Was she gathering evidence against them, was she scared they’d kill her if she left? Not one single word in either the guidebook or the BIR to explain.

Even more annoying to me, though, is just what a wasted opportunity the Baker Incident Report should have been to add more to Zoe’s story, when she’s one of my favourite RE characters. Included in the text is a letter she received from Mia, giving what should have been the perfect opportunity to flesh out the relationship Zoe and Mia must have built in the three years they spent trapped in the Baker property, the only two (semi-) sane people present – and what does the letter do? Imply they hardly knew each other at all. It’s the most boring possible answer, it contradicts hints from the actual game (Marguerite outright tells us they've been working together, even!), and GDI, you do not get to tell me that my girls didn’t know each other! ;_;

Ethan and Mia similarly get the short shaft. Throughout RE7 their every interaction is building to a big scene that never actually happens where Ethan finds out the truth – Ethan knows Mia’s been keeping secrets, he never stops asking questions about it, and Mia says outright that she wants to come clean. So what does the BIR tell us? Well, post RE7, Mia mentions in an interview that she doesn’t want anyone telling Ethan. Not a word about what changed her mind. Not a word about why Ethan would just stop asking. Total cop-out.

And there’s so much more it could have covered too. There's nothing about Ethan’s ‘military training’. Nothing about the Winters' relationship with Chris. Mia’s conversation with him in RE8 suggests he was personally involved in relocating them to Eastern Europe, but the BIR doesn’t mention that either. The BIR at large is basically just an extended lore dump, and it doesn’t even sound like Zoe’s voice.

So this is about where I finish up with both of these sources: frustrating, inaccessible, inconsistent, and more missed opportunities than real material. There’s a lot in both I’ll happily go on ignoring. But I’ll still pour through them for every last interesting detail, because I am that obsessed with this canon right now, and they’re what we’ve got.

[askfallenroyalty]

since the epilogue is close to ending, here's some sketches of wip designs

this is very rambly so i'll add ID descriptions later, sorry. (its 4am for me rn)

Frisk looks too older, they've only aged 2 years. both chara and asriel's designs here are SO beta and non refined. I think this was drawn even before Flowey came out -I wasn't sure how much of the trans aspect was going to come into play. I initially wanted the comic to end with Chara and Asriel reconciling after the Toriel-Asriel Airplane Call scene, but realized that there was too much unsaid between the two that needed to be hashed out and the epilogue had enough to cover already.

It was going to be a last minute "oh btw, since coming home Asriel is trans now, deal with it" but THANK GOD i didn't just sneak it in like that and explored the topic in the comic instead.

I forgot where this artwork was saved so I tried to draw it back from memory a few months later:

Chara's form was starting to come together -i assume this was around the time that Chara got their boss monster form in the comic itself. I like that Frisk has a Bi flag shirt here -I should of gone with that! The cheeks are more square but ultimately I thought age 15 wouldn't allow for that much of a change. so yeah, this is what an adult frisk would look instead.

oh! for funsis: did you know i was originally going to have the other fallen humans be skeletons instead of different monsters?

I thought it was too similar to insanelyadd's skeleton fallen kids. I actually am friends with Addy now, but then I had to message and be like "🥺is it ok if i also do this i swear i'm not copying" to which they were chill about. ultmatly i felt the designs were to Sans-like and didn't allow for much creativity. (also why tf does Hol have green instead of cyan colors what was wrong with my computer or me in 2018 lmao

I always wanted to show the kids age and progress throughout the comic. oh my god the hair is SO anime here ouch! anyway I wanted Chara to really lean into the "prim and proper" role they give themself. I thought it was so cool to have them cut their hair short in the back and have long hair in the front. (wait. wait, thats what Chara does now in the epilogue. huh.)

honestly??? i like "pissed off librarian" vibes this frisk has here. Also weird to see my Frisk without an afro!

sadly no beta adult asriel designs. no idea why i never drew any then.

Here's me figuring out how Chara should have a monster form -here's proto boss monster chara, as you can see i planned out the red hair aspect early on enough that this was before the timeskip happened.

um. anyway, pre-epilogue concept sketches. I think Raine had bird wings at this stage?? dang wild. Don't ask why Franky looks like a new yorker paper boy. Hol looks too much like a raggedy ann which is funny. Ursus... well, they probably won't look much different.

Hol eye concept art. done before they were revealed in the comic itself. ..........less said about this the better

And lastly, chara's boss monster design drawn right before they showed up. First one drawn <- left to right <- You can see I wanted Chara to have a hippy/punk design, but realized like, that jacket was going to be a binch to draw over and over. so i simplified it, and then was like, "ok this is TOO plain, i need SOME detail" and got very close to the final version.

alright since I know some people like color ref sheets, here

Continue Arc full cast. Was SUPER annoying to scroll thru to find the right character lmao

hol's prequel story color ref -actually changed the Berry's hair color last minute and never got around to updating the color sheet. was very annoying to hand-color pick from a previous page instead of using the ref :/ smh @/ me

Baker's Trouble.

OLDIE. From the Start Again? and Christmas sections of the tumblr version. God. Hol is so small. Asriel looks like a mess. Good lord.

Cancelled Christmas Arc. Chara was supposed to meet up with Asriel on a boat offshore of Monsterland for Christmas, but turns out Asriel was using Chara as publicity. Except... not fully. He did want to meet up with Chara, but they get the wrong impression that Asriel was only doing this for image's sake. It'd explore how the public views Chara as an idolized figure and how Frisk plays into that too.

Anyway the story was too ambitious and I should of started this on December 1st instead of days before Christmas. Plus, I wasn't happy with how I started it and the vibes were off. I might have this as a side story in the redraw but idk

Back to the Epilogue. I changed Asriel's dress just a little bit to improve the body shape silhouette (the dress is so plane its like she's wearing a towel! gah! I should have added SOME flair to that dress dang it!) anyway the dress is more... swooshy? swirly? and the teal ties up to the neck which works nicely with the heart locket and bow combo. Actually. Shit. Why didn't I just put the locket OVER the bow i'm so stupid that'd be so much easier-

If I could redo it, I'd make some changes...

now here's the cousin and sib groups here. Flowey is actually a little TOO big and not up to scale which is funny hehe (also more blocky looking??? weird) In the Redraw version I'm modifying Raine's dress to have a sash and other details, this thing is TOO plain. Franky's Mad Scientist like outfit could of just been an actual labcoat and ideally, the fact that Franky wasn't at the party could of foreshadowed that they knew it was going to be reloaded.

(...Which, actually, Chara's surprise was a surprise for me as well. That was a impulsive idea that came to me when we were getting very close to meeting with Chara again. Thus I couldn't foreshadow it. Redraw WILL have better foreshadowing U_U;)

ACTUALLY SCREW IT for the remainder of the epilogue, i made some changes I wanted to add detail and change some designs a tad -mainly to make the designs more distinct from each other and for story continuity. (AKA: Asriel and Papyrus are supposed to be the only "red scarf" wearers. Asriel's bowtie is knitted like a scarf. previously, hol and yun had red bows which made this match up less distinct. mew Mew's design was a little too similar to Sans' and Alphys and needed some changes.)

anyway i think thats all i can share now! thanks for reading and hope you guys keep following the redraw. I really really want a completed version of this story that's not missing holes. i want AFR to be complete and well, even with the epilogue ending, it won't be "done" for a long while. But thank you guys, it's been a journey!

If you hadn't guessed, I might be finishing the epilogue today (tomorrow for me, cause i'm going to bed in a few minutes). Depends on how much I manage to draw today, but yeah. Chara is going to the party, we'll get to say hi, close some loose ends and come to end. worst case scenario, i'll have to do a little comic to tie it off (like I did with the main storyline's ending) at a later date and this will be the end of the ask-able portion of the epilogue.

[smnthwrd]

im currently hyperfixating on the movie flipped and since theres not nearly enough of a fandom on here to follow i decided to say fuck it and write mini fan fiction type thing to get out some of my feelings, so yeah heres some backstory:

basically this is set after they graduate highschool. juli gets into a college thats across the country, as well as an opportunity to study abroad, but bryce doesnt get into the same school. they talk about it a lot and eventually make the really hard decision that julis going to go and theyre going to take a break while theyre apart. so here it is:

dont go.

i wanted to tell her, dont go. but i couldnt make myself, i dont know why. maybe i wanted to let her go; to know that i wasnt going to be the one to stop her from experiencing the world she had always dreamed of. id like to believe my reasons were that selfless. But the truth is, i was just afraid. i was afraid that if i aksed her to stay, and she did, she would grow to resent me for it. even more than that, i was afraid that if i asked her to stay, she would say no. that she would say i wasnt worth it, that she wasnt going to let a silly thing like young love stop her from seeing the world.

i dont think i could bear to hear her tell me im not worth it.

i wanted to tell juli baker that i loved her, and i had since the moment we first held hands as kids, when i ignorantly thought id be spending my whole life trying to get rid of her. i wanted to tell her that if she left right now to go see that big beautiful world, she would be breaking my heart into a thousand pieces, and that i would never again find someone who could occupy all the parts of my brain the way she does. i wanted to tell her that wherever she was, was wherever i wanted--no, needed to be, and that if she wouldnt stay with me, well then i would just get on that train and ride with her all the way across the earth, so long as i could stay by her side.

but i didnt.

maybe she was right all those years ago. maybe i am a coward. after all, ive always been afraid of conflict. id rather just stay quiet and smile along as people say whatever rude things come to their minds than stand up to them and tell them theyre wrong, and risk causing any discomfort. ive gotten better, though, thanks to juli. she makes me want to be better, to make a difference. she showed me that i can stand up for myself and others, and that i dont have to sit back and listen to people tell me who i am or what i want. thanks to juli baker, i wasnt so afraid anymore. but that wasnt enough this time.

"dont you go forgetting about me, juli baker," i faked a half-smile.

she rolled her eyes.

"i couldnt even if i tried, bryce losky." with a smile she turned around and began to make her way up the steps to enter the bus.

"juli! wait," i burst out just a moment before she was lost behind the bus doors. her head snapped back, showing a look of slight concern. i paused, trying to muster what courage i could. "do you remember back when we were kids, you told me i had been walking around with your first kiss?"

her face flushed before she answered with a shy smile, "yeah, why?"

"well you see, the thing is..." i kicked at the gravel, silently telling myself not to screw this up. i almost laughed thinking about how flustered she could make me, even after all these years. "Well, its my belief that you, juli baker, are walking around with my last kiss." her eyes lit up with a smile, and she pushed her hair behind her ear with a small chuckle. i was smiling too. "Now feel free to hold onto it while you go change the world, but dont forget to bring it back here when youre done."

her smile widened as the bus driver's voice echoed through the station, shouting a last call. she hesitated for a moment, glancing back at the annoyed driver, before she hopped off the bus and hurriedly pranced towards me to plant one long, sweet kiss on my cheek before turning swiftly back around and bouncing up the steps once again. This time she only stopped for a moment to look back at me with that beautiful smile of hers, and then disappeared behind the bus doors.

a bittersweet feeling washed over me as i watched her pass through the windows of the bus, coming in and out of view as she scanned the aisles for an empty seat.

she was leaving. my juli, was leaving to go see the world.

and i was staying here, watering a sycamore tree and waiting for her to return, hoping and praying that she wouldnt find someone out there who was better than me, or more worldly, or less afraid to speak up. devastated as i was, there was an undeniable feeling in the front of my mind that told me not to worry. juli baker was walking around with my last kiss, and someday she would be walking around with a ring on her finger to prove it.

I smiled at that thought. my ring on juli bakers finger. or, i suppose it would be juli losky? either way, i knew that image would carry me through the next four years apart from her.

ultimately i know that it was a good thing i didnt ask her to stay. studying abroad, seeing the world, it was her dream, and she needed to follow it. but i always wonder what she would have said if i could have just gotten out those two words: dont go.

[blackspoon99]

The Sign of Three Pt. 3

Sherlock x Female! Reader

TW: Drinking, Language, Potential Emetophobia (If you’ve seen this episode, you know), Spoilers to Season 3

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

Part 5

“Of course, there’s hours of material here, but I’ve cut it down to the really good bits.”

Oh god, the stag night. You almost laughed just thinking about it. It was unbelievable that Sherlock was willingly telling this story to an audience. You were fortunate enough to witness some of the events of the night firsthand.

The story began the morning of in Baker Street, 11 am:

It was a Saturday morning, and you were over having tea with Sherlock. For the two of you, “having tea” consisted of you both reading in complete silence while you happened to be drinking tea. It was a common occurrence, and for you, it was a treasured tradition. You were curled up in John’s chair opposite Sherlock. Today, you were reading Emma by Jane Austen. You peeked over at Sherlock to see what he was reading. Sherlock was reading a book titled “Atlas of Forensic Pathology”. Riveting. The book looked so heavy; it would probably go straight through the floor if he dropped it.

You returned to your book. This was probably your third time reading the Jane Austen classic. You were inexplicably drawn to the plot, the message, the love story, all of it. You finally were at your favorite part. When Mr. Knightly said to Emma, “If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.” You looked at Sherlock over the pages of your book. You couldn’t help but consider the relevance of the quote in your own life.

When you first came to terms with the fact that you were in love with Sherlock, the feeling had burned through you. You couldn’t focus and constantly fought the urge to tell him. Possibly because of the several near-death experiences you'd had. After you made up with Sherlock at the engagement party, the feeling persisted but it was almost duller, easier to live with. You’d slowly regained security in Sherlock’s role in your life and you no longer constantly worried he’d leave again. You returned to your version of mundane and your unrequited feelings for Sherlock became the new normal. It had become more of a consistent ache than a burn.

Sherlock interrupted your thoughts: “Shouldn’t it be relatively easy to find a new book to read if you work in a bookstore?”

“True, but I like this one,” you said without looking up from your book.

“Why? What do you gain from reading a convoluted story of questionable morals that provides no useful information?”

You finally put your book down. “Because, I like to read for fun. Maybe you should try it sometime.”

Sherlock smiled and scoffed at you then returned to his book.

You shook your head and downed the rest of your tea. “Okay, I’ve got to go to work.” You got up and took your mug to the kitchen. On your way back to gather your things, you noticed an open file on the kitchen table that looked like a John Watson scrapbook. You pulled the first paper off the stack to see a cutout of John’s head pasted onto the Vitruvian Man. “Sherlock?” you called over your shoulder, “What’s this file for?”

“What file?” He asked.

You picked up the file and carried it back to the living room. You returned to your seat and started thumbing through it.

“Oh. That’s for the stag night,” said Sherlock.

“Stag night? I didn’t think you would want to do that sort of thing”

“Why not?” He swiftly closed his book. If you didn’t know better, you’d take the action as a sign of offense.

“Uh, no reason,” you said hastily. The file was full of peer-reviewed studies on alcohol consumption, detailed chemistry notes, and copies of John’s medical records. The last page was a detailed schedule of where they were going and how much they were going to drink every hour. “This is awfully thorough.”

“I needed to ensure the maximum amount of enjoyment for the both of us for the duration of the night.”

“How considerate of you.” You put the file down and leaned forward. “So, what do you have planned?”

“John and I will be drinking at a pub on every street we ever found a corpse.”

“That is oddly perfect for the both of you.”

“I thought so,” Sherlock said with a grin.

You looked at the time. If you didn’t leave now, you’d be late. “Well, I’m off. See you later, Sherlock.”

“Yes, yes, goodbye,” he mumbled and returned to reading. You left the file on the table, gathered your belongings, and left for your shift. 

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

Later that evening:

You closed the bookshop at 8 pm and headed to the tube station. As you made your way through the crowded streets, you heard your phone ringing. You dug through your bag to find it as you walked. You saw Sherlock’s name on the caller ID and answered it. Your ears were immediately assaulted by electronic dance music.

You heard Sherlock’s voice first “Shut up John, I’m calling her.” He shouted over the music

“Who?” you then recognized John’s voice.

“Her John, I’m calling her!”

You struggled to hear the call over the booming music “Hello?? Sherlock? Why are you calling me?”

“Oh! It’s y/n! Hello!” John shouted into the phone. You winced at the volume.

“John? Where are you? Are you drunk?”

“Stag night! Sherlock tried to measure my piss. Then he got into a fight.”

“Give me that back” Sherlock’s voice “Y/n meet us back at Baker Street. It’s an ‘mergency”

“What did you say? Sherlock? It’s really hard to hear,”

“Baker Street. Now!” He shouted then hung up.

For a moment, you stood in the street, dumbfounded. It was only 8 pm and both Sherlock and John were piss drunk at some club. You couldn’t even begin to process the rest of the information. So much for Sherlock’s plan, although it did seem like they had “maximized their enjoyment”. You weren’t about to miss this.

——————————

You arrived at Baker Street by 8:30 pm. You opened the door to find Sherlock and John laying across the bottom of the stairs. “Hello boys, I’m here.” You announced.

At the sound of your voice, Sherlock and John scrambled to sit upright. Sherlock fell down a step in the process. You tried your best to suppress your laughter. “So, I’m here. What’s the emergency, Sherlock?”

“Right, you,” He said, raising his arm to point at you. “Upstairs.”

You watched Sherlock and John slowly stand up. John lifted one foot to climb the stairs, then stumbled backward.

“Do you need help, John?” You asked.

“Nah,” he said, “‘s alright, I’m fine. I can do it myself.”  

You slowly helped Sherlock and John up and into the flat. Sherlock tried to take off his coat, but his arms got stuck behind him. You giggled and gently pulled his coat off him and hung it on the coat rack. You lead Sherlock over to his chair and he flopped down into it.

You went into the kitchen to get some water for him and John. You figured they’d need it. You searched the cabinets, but there wasn’t a clean glass in sight. You resorted to the clean beakers on the countertops instead. You poured two 250mL beakers most of the way with water and walked them back into the living room. When you returned, Sherlock was sitting in his chair. He was drinking from a glass of scotch.

“Sherlock,” you groaned. “Where did you get that?” You attempted to reach for the glass, but he pulled his hand away, spilling it all over himself.

“It’s okay, this is fine,” he said, staring at his scotch-soaked shirt. “Oh,” he started. “I almost forgot,” Sherlock leaned over the side of his chair to grab something off the floor “You left this,” Sherlock said and handed you your copy of Emma. You hadn’t even realized it was gone.

“That was the emergency?”

“I still don’t understand how you could read this 3 times,” Sherlock slurred. “It’s so- what’s the word? Incorrect? ‘There is no charm equal to tenderness of heart.’ What an absurd thing to say” He contorted his face into an expression of disgust and took a sip of scotch from the glass in his hand.

“You read it? Today?” The fact that Sherlock had gone out of his way to read your favorite book made you unnaturally happy. You knew not to read into the things with Sherlock, but sometimes you couldn’t help yourself.

“You left it behind and I was so bored. Besides, I had to understand why you liked it so much. I still don’t know.”

You leaned over and snatched the glass of scotch from him. “I don’t think that’s the best idea, do you?” You handed him the beaker of water.

“Thank you,” he said with a goofy grin. In all the years you’d known Sherlock, you had never seen him like this. It was odd to say the least yet decidedly hilarious.

“Where’s John?”

Sherlock didn’t answer but pointed in the general direction of the bathroom. You decided to take the seat opposite Sherlock. As you sat down, Sherlock put his water on the floor. He then leaned forward and put his head in his hands, staring at you.

“What are you doing, Sherlock?” you asked.

“You,” he said, pointing at your face “are so hard to figure out sometimes, you know that?”

“Me?”

“It’s soooooo annoying. I can tell what almost everyone is thinking all the time, but not always you.”

“You think I’m hard to read?”

“Yes, you. Y/n L/n.” He waved his hands around while he slightly slurred his words.

“Okay then, how about this: I tell you what I’m thinking right now, and you do the same. Then, for one moment, we can understand each other completely.”

Sherlock furrowed his brow “You first.”

“I’m thinking… that I’m glad you called me.” Sherlock smiled and nodded. You giggled, “Now it’s your turn, and don’t lie to me. What are you thinking in this moment?”

Sherlock paused. “I’m thinking that my shirt’s all wet,” he said with a slight frown.

“That’s your own fault,” you said, putting one hand over your mouth to contain your laughter.

John re-entered the room holding post-it notes and a sharpie. “I’ve just had the best idea,” he said with a sloppy grin.

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

The three of you all had post-its stuck to your foreheads, each with names written down. John sat in the client’s seat with the name MADONNA scribbled on the piece of paper stuck to his forehead. Sherlock, much to your enjoyment, had SHERLOCK HOLMES sloppily written on his forehead. As per the game, you had no idea what was written on yours. Sherlock was lounging back in his chair, resting his head on his hand.

“Am I a vegetable?” asked John

“You? Or the thing?” Sherlock asked smiling. The two of them snickered.

“Funny!” said John.

Sherlock looked down and smiled. “Thank you,” he choked out.

“To answer your question, John, no,” you said.

“Your go, Sherlock,” said John.

“Erm…. am I human?” he asked, turning to you.

“Sometimes,” you said with a smirk.

“No, no, it can’t be sometimes, can’t have that…”

“Fine. Yes, you’re human” you confirmed. “My turn. Am I a man?”

“Yeeep” answered John. “Sherlock, you again,” John said, forgetting it was his turn.

“Am I a man?”

John nodded. Sherlock kept going. “Am I a tall man?”

John looked at you and started laughing before he even spoke “Mm, not as tall as people think.” John’s head flopped to the side as he let out a hiccup

“Nice?”

“Ishh,” John said skeptically.

“Clever?”

“I’d say so,” you interjected.

“Do people…” he made air quotes as he spoke the word ‘people’ “... like me?”

“Not really,” you said, chuckling “You tend to rub them the wrong way.” If you had to babysit your adult drunk friends, you might as well have some fun.

“Hm,” Sherlock nodded intently. “Am I the current King of England?”

You and John immediately burst into laughter. “Good guess, Sherlock. But you do know England doesn’t have a king?” 

“Don’t we?”

“No,” John said. “Y/n, you go now”

“Right, okay. Am I a friend of ours?”

“Ehh, yes?” Sherlock said.

“Yes, yes they are Sherlock,” said John “Jesus.”

“Well, that narrows it down significantly. Am I Greg?”

“Who’s Greg?” Sherlock asked.

You rolled your eyes and took the post-it off your forehead. The name “Gavin” was written on it in Sherlock’s handwriting. Of course.

“Hey!” Sherlock yelled, “Cheater, that’s cheating. John, did you see that? Y/n’s cheating.” Sherlock got up and took the post-it from your hand. He leaned forward and stuck it back on your forehead. “There. Now it’s John’s turn.”

“Am I a woman?” asked John. He slumped in his seat. Sherlock immediately started giggling. “What?” John asked.

“Yes,” confirmed Sherlock

“Am I a pretty woman?”

“Er, beauty is a construct based entirely on childhood impressions, influences, and role models.”

“But am I pretty?” John asked again.

“Yeah, Sherlock? Is John a pretty woman?”

“I don’t know who you are. I don’t know who you’re supposed to be.”

“What?! You picked the name,” John said.

“Ah, but I picked it at random from the papers,” Sherlock said, flailing his arm over to the stack of newspapers in the corner.

“I don’t think you understand the point of this game, Sherlock,” you added.

“So, I am human, I’m not as tall as people think I am ... I’m-I’m nice-ish ... clever, but I tend to rub them up the wrong way.”

“That’s correct,” said John.

“I’m you, aren’t I?” Sherlock asked, pointing to John.

“Ooh-ooh!” Mrs. Hudson chirped as she knocked on the door. “Client!” Behind Mrs. Hudson was a woman wearing a nurse’s outfit with a cardigan over it. You scrambled to take the post-it off your forehead as you stood up.

“Hello, I’m sorry, but this really isn’t a good time—”

Sherlock immediately stood up and interrupted you. “It’s not a bad time, no, no Y/n. We always help a person in need.”

“Do we?” you said with a forced smile and looked over at John for help. John just stared back blankly at you with a goofy drunken smile.

The woman beamed “Thank you,” she said. “Which one of you is Sherlock Holmes?”

John imitated a slide whistle, and pointed to Sherlock’s post-it on his forehead. Sherlock flashed a wide toothy grin. You put your head in your hands in defeat.

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

A few moments later, you’d made the woman, Tessa, some tea, and you John and Sherlock were sitting on the couch. Sherlock was sat in between you and John. Tessa sat in a chair opposite the three of you.

“I don’t ... a lot ... I mean, I don’t ... date all that much ... and ... he seemed ... nice, you know?”

You looked over at Sherlock and John hoping they could keep it together. John was blinking slowly and heavily while trying to stay awake. Sherlock was listening to Tessa’s story intently.

She continued. “We seemed to automatically connect. We had one night – dinner, such interesting conversation. It was ... lovely. To be honest, I’d love to have gone further ...”

Beside you, Sherlock closed his eyes and began to lean into your shoulder, dozing off. You subtly elbowed him, and he straightened up abruptly.

“But I thought, no, this is special. Let’s take it slowly, exchange numbers. He said he’d get in touch and then ... Maybe he wasn’t quite as keen as I was ...”

You looked over at John who was practically asleep with his eyes open. He had a blank stare and his mouth hung slightly open.

“But I – I just thought ... at least he’d call to say that we were finished,” Tessa concluded, tearing up slightly and looking at the floor. Immediately, Sherlock’s face contorted into an expression of sympathy as he dramatically brought his hand to his mouth. You stared in disbelief and handed Tessa a tissue. “Thank you,” she said to you. “I went round there, to his flat. No trace of him. Mr. Holmes…”

Sherlock leaned forward and rested his head on his hands.

“I honestly think I had dinner ... with a ghost.”

You and Tessa waited to hear what Sherlock had to say. You leaned forward to look at Sherlock and John’s faces only to discover they had both fallen asleep.

“With a ghost, Mr. Holmes!” Tessa repeated, louder.

You sharply elbowed Sherlock in the ribs much harder than before, and he sprung awake. “Boring, boring, boring,” he mumbled, then turned to you and put his hands on either side of your head. “No! fascinating!” He exclaimed, his face right up close to yours. Sherlock then turned to John “John – John! Wake up!” John finally stirred awake.

“I’m up,” he mumbled.

“Apologies about my ... you know ... thing,” Sherlock said, pointing at John. “Rude. Rude!” he yelled straight into your ear. You grimaced at the loud noise and put your hand on Sherlock’s forearm to settle him.

“Yes, that’s enough, Sherlock,” you whispered. “Uhm, go on, Tessa.”

“I checked with the landlord, and the man who lived there died. Heart attack. And there we are, having dinner one week on.” She turned and began to rummage through her purse. She pulled out a wrinkled piece of paper and handed it to Sherlock. You grabbed it before he could take it. It was a print-out of an online chatroom. “And I found this thing online, sort of chatroom thing for girls who think they’re dating men from the spirit world.”

You nodded. This actually seemed like a decent case. Too bad Sherlock and John probably wouldn’t remember one word of it tomorrow. Sherlock tried to stand up next to you, wobbled, and then put one hand on the top of your head to steady himself. You groaned and struggled to untangle his hand from your hair.

“Don’t worry. I’ll find him in ten minutes,” Sherlock said confidently. Tessa smiled in relief. “What’s your dog’s name?”

You facepalmed and stood up next to Sherlock. He leaned over to wake up John. “John! Wake up! We’re meant to ... The game’s ... something” he said, waving his hand around.

“On!” yelled John.

“Yes, that,” Sherlock said, walking out the door. “Come on, Y/n.”

“Wait, Sherlock. Where are you going?” You protested, following him down the stairs.

“That’s a good question. Where are we going?” he asked Tessa in the foyer.

“Oh! Well, I suppose we ought to go to his flat,” Tessa said.

“Sherlock, no,” you said, “You can’t leave...” you looked off the the side awkwardly “…like this.” He ignored you and dragged John out to the sidewalk by his sweater sleeve. He stepped out into the street and hailed down a cab.

“40a, Jasmine Grove,” interjected Tessa as the cab pulled up.

“Are you coming Y/n?” Sherlock slurred.

“No!” you yelled. “And neither are you.” Before you could reach him, Sherlock climbed into the cab after John and Tessa and slammed the cab door in your face. The car drove off. 

“Come on, really?!” you yelled in frustration. Now you had to follow them. You ran to the edge of the sidewalk and decided to call a cab for yourself.

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

You finally made it to the apartment to see Tessa and a man you presumed to be the landlord standing by the door. It was a rather modern apartment with exposed brick and abstract furniture. John was standing in the corner with his hands crossed over his chest and his lips pursed. He was swaying slightly, trying to keep his balance. You pushed past the landlord to see Sherlock kneeling on a shag carpet holding his pocket magnifier. As soon as you walked in, he face-planted into the carpet and passed out.

“He’s clueing for looks” John announced, proudly.

“Oh god,” you said, scrambling over to Sherlock. You grabbed his upper arm and tried to pull him up. God, he was heavy. 

“That’s it, I’m calling the police.” The landlord pulled out his cell phone.

“No, no, please, that won’t be necessary,” you protested.

“This is a famous detective. It’s Sherlock Holmes and his partner, John Hamish Watson,” Tessa clarified.

You finally managed to get Sherlock to straighten up. “When did you get here?” Sherlock asked, looking up at you. Then, he bent over and immediately threw up on the carpet.

“Ugh why?” you groaned and plugged your nose. Sherlock wiped his mouth on his sleeve and then clicked his magnifier shut.

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

The next morning…

The landlord had called the police and the night ended with you watching Sherlock and John being driven away in the back of a police car. You’d immediately called Greg hoping he’d let them go. Greg had said the best he could do was try and let them off with a warning if they spent the night in the drunk tank. When the station opened, Greg sent you a photo of Sherlock and John asleep in a cell with the caption “Come and get ‘em!”

You walked into Scotland Yard and Greg was there to meet you. “Thank you, Greg,” you said, handing him one of the 4 coffees you’d brought.

“God, what on earth happened to them?” Greg asked, taking a sip from the coffee you gave him.

“Stag night got a bit out of hand,” you said. “Afraid I lost control of the situation.”  

“You can say that again,” agreed Greg as the two of you walked through the station to the drunk tank.

“Rise and Shine!” Greg bellowed as he swung open the door. John was awake and sitting on the floor. He had his hands on his head while Sherlock was still fast asleep on the bench.

“Oh my god,” John said, grimacing in pain. “Is that Greg?”

“Get up,” he said “Y/n’s come to collect you. Managed to square things with the desk sergeant.” John painfully and slowly got up. “What a couple of lightweights! Y/n said you couldn’t even make it to closing time!”

“Yeah, could you whisper?” John asked.

“NOT REALLY!” Greg shouted straight into his ear. Across the cell, Sherlock jolted awake, mouth wide open in shock. He tried to stand up, then fell backward back onto the bench. You walked over and helped him up.

“There you go, Sherlock. Nice and easy,” you said quietly and handed him one of the coffees. He took it and stumbled out of the cell, head down. He looked like hell, not to mention the way he smelled. You caught up to John and handed him one of the remaining coffees, leaving the last for yourself. You took a sip of your coffee and continued down the hall. 

“Well, thanks for a ... you know ... an evening,” John said to Sherlock.

“Oh, it was awful,” Sherlock said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I was gonna pretend, but it was, truly,” said John. He then turned to you. “Y/n, I am so sorry, that was—”

“It’s okay, I had fun,” you said with a smile.

“At least someone did,” said Sherlock. “That woman, Tessa, dated a ghost. The most interesting case for months. What a wasted opportunity.”

“Really? That’s your takeaway from this?” you asked. He shrugged. “Come on, boys, let’s get you home.” 

A/N: Stag night! I love this part of the episode, so I hope I did it justice. Funny story. When I was writing this, I was trying to find real book titles for Sherlock to read and I came across a real book titled “Surrounded by Idiots” I wanted to use it in the story SO BAD but it was so perfect, that it sounded cheesy and made up lmao. I’m 100% certain Sherlock would have it in his bookcase though. 

Taglist: @the-chaotic-cow @amoeebaa @scorpios-echos @sad-bitch-h0ur @drifting-away-in-space @that-thing-in-the-graveyard 

[heyitssmiller]

pt. 2 anyone?? 👀 🍰 [@lumosinlove’s characters]

Most of the team had cleared out.

A few had made it their mission to finish every slice of cake they had been given, and were laughing with each other over at the table.

Leo smiled from where he stood behind the counter. He couldn’t help but notice the cute way Logan’s nose scrunched up at the joke, and how he could listen to Finn’s laugh every day and never grow tired of it. They had been looking at him over their shoulders all day, and talking to him whenever they could get away from the group. Honestly, the two of them were quickly growing on Leo.

He shook his head sharply and turned so they were out of his sight line.

Nope. He needed to stop it. They weren’t on the market, and as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t start falling for them. Either of them. Both of them. Whatever.

He needed to put their cute smiles and gorgeous eyes out of his mind.

“Salut,” Logan said from behind him.

Leo turned on a dime. “Hey,” he breathed.

“Thanks for the great desserts today.”

“Yeah,” Finn said as he approached. “They were all delicious.”

“Oh, thank you.” Leo smiled. “Glad you liked them.”

Remus and Sirius came up to the counter then, forcing Leo’s gaze to the actual clientele. “Have you two decided?” He asked.

“We’re going with one layer oreo, and one layer red velvet,” Remus said confidently.

“Fantastic choices,” Leo murmured, jotting it down on a small notepad. “Still the dimensions we decided on before?”

Sirius nodded. “Yup. You’re the best, Leo. We’ve got to get going, though.” He squeezed Remus closer to his side with a happy smile. “Dinner with the in-laws-to-be.”

Leo laughed. “Alright, well, I won’t keep y’all. Have fun!”

The fiancés left, taking with them all of the stranglers except the two right in front of Leo.

“Do you need us to, I don’t know, stack chairs or something? We could stack chairs?”

Leo smiled softly at the redhead. “No, these chairs don’t stack. Thanks for the offer, though.”

Logan took off his snapback to run a hand through his hair. “What about dishes?”

Leo side-eyed the boys with a grin. “If you keep trying to help clean up, I might just try to hire you.”

They laughed. “Well, if you don’t need anything else…” Logan trailed. “I guess we’ll hit the road.”

“It was really nice meeting you two,” Leo said earnestly as they waved goodbye.

He was left alone in the bakery, and made his way to the table to pick up the forks when something on one of the seats caught his eye.

His brow furrowed as he picked up the wallet. He flipped it open to see Finn smiling slightly up at him from the ID. Leo couldn’t help the grin that crossed his face.

His first thought was that he should call the redhead and let him know. The second was that he didn’t have his number. Could he call Sirius or Remus? They could probably get it back to him. Yeah. That seemed like his best option.

He reached for his phone as a lightbulb went off in his head.

Quickly but neatly, he scrawled his number on the back of a business card. Below that, he added a note, saying, ‘In case you guys are missing something else’. Then he slipped it into Finn’s wallet.

It was bold, and he almost didn’t do it. But the worst case scenario was that they never called him. And if so, he would move on.

It was fine. This was fine.

He had dialed six digits when the bell on the door rang. He looked up.

Finn and Logan stood there, looking around until their eyes fell on him.

“Hey, Leo. I think I left my-”

“Wallet?” he asked, sliding it down the counter towards the couple.

Finn’s smile lit up his face. “Yeah, thanks.”

“No problem.”

The three of the stood there awkwardly. Logan scratched at his neck. Finn rocked back slightly on his heels. Leo chewed his lip, waiting with false hope for one of them to say something - to smile at him, to flirt with him again - anything.

God, he was pathetic.

“Merci, Leo.” Logan eventually broke the silence. “We’ll see you around, then?”

“I’ll be here,” Leo said softly, trying to smile as they left again.

He couldn’t fake it any longer once they disappeared down the sidewalk.

Finn pulled out of their parking space with a sigh. “That was kind of a bust.”

“Non,” Logan disagreed. “We got to see him again.”

“That’s true. I just thought…”

“That we would talk more?”

Finn laughed. “You froze!”

“You froze,” Logan’s voice rose, punching Finn playfully in the shoulder.

“We all froze,” Finn decided. “So I freeze around cute boys. Sue me.” He glanced at Logan. “Remember when we first met?”

The brunette threw his head back with a laugh. “You forgot your own name. Had to be fed your lines, eh?”

“Alright, alright, well. We’re together now, aren’t we?”

Logan kissed his cheek. “Oui. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

They drove in silence for a beat, before Logan leaned his head on the window with a thunk. “God, he’s so cute.”

The sky was dark and Logan and Finn were both ready to sleep.

The cute baker, who they may or may not get to see again, had never once left their minds.

“Do you think we can convince Cap and Loops to take us with them the next time they have an appointment at the bakery?” Finn asked, pulling his t-shirt off.

Logan crawled into bed. “Maybe. Not sure though. They already let the team crash one part of the planning; they might want to do the rest of it by themselves.”

“Mm,” Finn agreed with a kiss to Logan’s lips. “I’ll think of a more solid plan by the morning, don’t worry.”

Logan pulled him closer under the blankets, and rubbed their noses together. “I’m sure that you will.”

An hour or so had past when Finn suddenly sat straight up. A grunt came from the man beside him.

“Logan, Logan, Logan,” Finn started shaking his shoulder.

“Quoi?” Logan dragged out the sleepy word, annoyed with his boyfriend.

“Let’s get engaged.”

There was a pause before another exasperated noise came from Logan.

“Harzy, what are you talking about?” he mumbled.

“We should get engaged!” Finn repeated. “Then we’ll need a cake, and we’ll have a reason to go see Leo!”

Another pause.

Then a pillow hit Finn in the face.

“Go to bed, Fishy, you’re sleep deprived.”

Hi

Yes

I’m in love, anon 😍😍😍

[heavensmortuary]

the resident evil ship?

Ooo ok! I dont ship often but RE is one of the few fandoms I have ships for. I'll go with Jill and Carlos, Claire and Leon, and Ethan and Mia

·When I started shipping them: After I played RE3R! I thought their dynamic was cool, especially Carlos doing his absolute best to protect Jill in the hospital (that part of the game was the most stressful sjdjf). For Claire and Leon; at the end of RE2R. That scene where theyre basically recovering from the fight and taking Sherry by the hands and leading her someplace safe was so heartwarming and I love them all very much. For Ethan and Mia, when I finished RE7

·My thoughts: I know RE doesn't really have the best writing when it comes to relationships, but I like how like, what a great team Jill and Carlos when working together! For Claire and Leon; yknow that one meme thats like "best friends secretly think of each other as sidekick", thats them. Leon and Claire should have been able to adopt Sherry. For Ethan and Mia, I know Mia is a bit. Odd. But Ethan loves her SO much. Like, hes absolutely willing to go through hell and back TWICE for her, even to the point where hes literally falling apart. I don't like Mia a ton because shes kind of a flat character, but Ethan is like. Husband of the year

·What makes me happy about them: For all of them, I'm not sure how I'd narrow it down except that I like it when characters are so devoted to each others safety, even though thats a trope used all the time. Like. I'm not even sure HONESTLY how id go through something so scary and hellish as like, the Bakers house in RE7, and all for someone I love. Same with the others; they encourage me to go the distance no matter how scary for the ones I love, and thats pretty cool imo.

· What makes me sad about them: oh boy oh boy alright. 1. Carlos was in RE3 (a game that came ouT IN THE 90s) and never used ever again. Jill haven't been in a game since Revelations 1 I think 2. Claire and Leon didnt get together and adopt Sherry and Sherry grew up raised by the Government pretty much. Infinite Darkness really belittled Claire's character next to Leon sjsjdkf 3. Uh. *Spoilers for RE8* WHOOP Ethan kicked the bucket without even saying goodbye to the wife he loved so much

·Things done in fanfic that annoy me: I can just think of one, and its people writing Ethan like. Getting together with one of the Lord's when uh. They all pretty much dismembered his kid. Pretty awkward. Also there seems to be a disturbing amount if hate towards Mia like. To the point where people love to kill her off in fanfic

·Things I look for in fanfic: I don't read fanfic much but when I do, I usually like reading about them all going on adventures or missions together

·Who Id be comfortable with them ending up with, if not with each other: Can't think of any really. I personally headcanon Claire as ace but that might be me self projecting lmao

·My happily ever after for them: Good question. For Carlos and Jill; I can't imagine them wanting to settle down that much. I would LOVE to see another game where they work together behind the scenes. Please RE9. Please. For Leon and Claire; honestly I cant think of much. They both need therapy and a vacation. For Ethan and Mia; they should have been able to live somewhere quiet and away from all the horrible things theyve seen and raised Rose. Simple, but thats what they deserve

[ot3-watch]

Episode 5: The Mile High Job

WHY IS THIS EPISODE 8

FUCK THE NETWORK I’M VERY TIRED

So we’re starting on a client testimony. Which is sad because I kind of like the context establishing scenes

Sophie being French is hilarious

I’m not saying Hardison shouldn’t be able to take off when he needs to. I am saying that MAYBE THEY SHOULD PLAN HEISTS FOR DAYS WHEN THEY ARE A MEMBER SHORT?

Also, why does Hardison not put his food on a plate before he puts it in the microwave. That spinning plate does not get washed nearly enough for that to be sanitary

OK wait did Hardison just flake out? THEN WHY DID THEY NOT POSTPONE?

THEY SHOULD HAVE PLANNED THIS MUCH BETTER

I love Parker being magic and teleporting

The security guards always seem like idiots and tbh, working where I work with the security guards being who they are, I feel like it’s all bullshit and a disservice to security guards.

I love the Doctor WHo references. TOM AND SARAH JANE BAKER YES MA’AM

But also did no one make a Doctor Who comment? Like really. I know Tom Baker is probably a common name but I really want to know what happens when they get a whovian checking their IDs

THe poor flight attendant. That sucks. Can you imagine getting a COMPLETELY fake call that your cat might be put down? I’m sorry, I can’t. Completely innocent people get screwed by them sometimes and I feel bad

Eliot remembers everyone he’s slept with I love him.

THIS POOR FLIGHT ATTENDANT? WHat happens when she comes back and everyone is side eyeing her and being bitchy?

I hate the trope of girlfriends or love interests being overly sensitive about people remembering tiny details. Especially when they aren’t actually together. Especially when it happened years ago. Especially when they hold it against them for the whole episode.

SOME PEOPLE HAVE TERRIBLE MEMORIES OK

Also, this is Nate. It’s a shock he has any brain cells left with how drunk he is 99% of the time. Get OVER yourself Sophie.

PLACE YOUR MASK OVER YOUR MOUTH AND NOSE ok Leverage predicting the future…

Parker being a terrible flight attendant is hilarious

Did I like her in this episode? I think I liked her in this episode

Eliot suffering through economy I can’t

I feel bad for the woman, but like… stop pushing? I know she’s nervous but the flight attendant is trying to do her job. I mean, it’s Parker, but in any normal situation…

Hardison pulls the same “You’re such a racist” bit every time he gets in a sticky situation, and it always works? Can you imagine if he tried to pull that on an actual racist?

Do planes have bars like that? I’ve been on plenty of planes and i’ve never seen a bar like that

Im never in first class though so whatever

OKAY GUYS THE IN-FLIGHT MOVIE IS ONE OF THE LIBRARIANS MOVIES

Which means noah wyle exists in the leverage universe.

HOW IS THAT GOING TO WORK WITH THE REBOOT THOUGH?

Unless they just… expected no one to notice? To be fair, it’s not like they focused on it

They probably just needed a movie they could use without securing rights first or running into copyright issues

But still… paradoxes

Eliot just going through a bunch of random people's bags…

HE AND PARKER MOVING AROUND EACH OTHER SO COMFORTABLY THOUGH

THIS IS SEASON ONE WHY ARE THEY SO GOOD TOGETHER ALREADY

I LOVE THEM GUYS

Parker. That’s not reassuring Parker. Parker that’s just terrifying. WHY WOULD YOU SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT PARKER?? pARKER?? i’M CONCERNED PARKER!

I really hate Sophie getting mad at nate for this shit. It’s not funny. It’s not cute. It just makes Sophie seem unreasonable and bitchy

OK BUT Hardison and the woman bonding IMMEDIATELY over nerdy gaming is so great

Also i like that they made the other nerd a woman is great

OK but he is not talking nearly silently enough for the ONLY other person in the room to just stop listening to him?

Could you imagine the person you were talking to randomly stops talking, looks upset, and then sticks his head in the cabinet? And starts muttering to himself?

LIKE EITHER HE CAN’T TELL REALITY FROM FANTASY OR HES A SPY

WHY ARE YOU NOT SUSPICIOUS??

He really does pull this shit off really well.

The amount of men in that conference room is oppressive and very realistic ina very sad way

Parker must be in a thief’s paradise

OKAY I REMEMBER NOW AND I DID LIKE PARKER IN THIS EPISODE

“Nobody tells me anything”

THAT’S SUCH A MOOD

Literally the job I’m working in right now is exactly like that

My job is literally to know things and help people and provide them with the information they need

AND STILL I’M ONE OF THE LAST TO FIND THINGS OUT

IT’S VERY FRUSTRATING OK

WHy can I not remember why they’re going after genegrow? Someone died I think? But i cannot remember

“The guy in 1D wants to kill you. Ginger Ale?”

Why is it that all i can think about right now is harry styles and niall horan

I mean I KNOW why but like… why

I LOVE them but why?

WHAT IS THIS OFFICE WOMAN’S NAME I LOVE HER

How does no one question Hardison showing up out of nowhere though?

Im just saying… supposedly it’s “Dave’s” birthday, and they think they should have already known about it? He just started that job on that day?

Unless he’s pretending to have been there forever but even then…

This makes no sense? I’m so confused?

Eliot beating a guy up in an airport bathroom is fantastic

But also you can’t fit one person in a airport bathroom, let alone two

THe view from the top is much smaller than the shots from the side

Parker: the guy we just took out? Eliot: -_- Parker: The guy Eliot just took out?

Sophie always seems so shocked by the inhumanity of some of these people they interact with. Nate’s like “Yeah, people are awful” and Eliot’s like “I see worse all the time” and Parker’s like “Is this meant to be weird or something?” but Sophie’s like “WHAt? Someone wants people DEAD? And might KILL US IN THE PROCESS?”

Is the art theft world just not so violent?

Even hardison doesn’t seem shocked, just upset and offended. Sophie’s always like OoO though and it gets weird?

Now both Eliot AND Nate are fitting in the bathroom? With an already unconscious guy? I’VE BEEN IN AIRPLANE BATHROOMS. THEY AREN’T BIG ENOUGH FOR THAT.

Unless i’m just fat. Which is an option.

Why do people have random wires in their luggage? Who travels with a giant bundle of wires in their luggage?

Oh look. The red head was right. There is a tailwind

OK But THE OXYGEN MASKS CAME DOWN AND NO ONE IS TRYING TO PUT ONE ON?

I know they’re panicking but still

Nate really does just throw things at hardison and then Hardison goes like WHAT I CAN’T DO THIS and then he does it.

HOW is Hardison THAT talented it’s ridiculous

WE all talk about Eliot being hyper-competent in everything when Hardison is literally right there

Not to say that eliot doesn’t deserve attention because he does and I love him

I LOVE ELIOT OKAY

I’m just saying Hardison deserves more credit

HOW DID THEY NOT HIT ANY CARS WHEN THEY WERE LANDING? THERE ARE CARS RIGHT THERE? ANd then there’s suddenly no cars in font of them when they land ? It’s all deserted?

HARDISON IS SO GOOD THOUGH

How did they set up a party for “Dave” so quickly?

WHY DOES NO ONE LOOK TO SEE WHO DAVE WAS YELLING AT?

Everyone is so done with Hardison and honestly? Fair. He might’ve saved them, but he also screwed them over earlier. It came in handy, but still.

I really could not give less of a shit about the Nate Sophie storyline in this episode. In most of season one really. It’s all shitty and annoying

FINAL THOUGHTS: 8/10. Points off for people not acting like people. Points off for the shitty Sophie/Nate stuff. Extra points for Eliot being Eliot. (There will always be extra points for Eliot being Eliot). Extra points for Hardison’s badassery. Extra points because I liked Parker in this episode. Extra points for nerd girl. You go nerd girl. Points off because I literally remember nothing about this episode except for Hardison being awesome, the office scenes, and the fact that there was a plane crash. Why were they on the plane? No idea. Can’t remember.

Sam count: 3/5

IYS count: 2/5 (Am I remembering this wrong? I felt like there were more? Then again, I’m only 5 episodes in)

[astudyinstupidity]

Safe - A Sherlock short story

This story was written by me! Please do not publish anywhere else. Reblogs are appreciated :) I got this prompt from an old tumblr post but I did not get the @, so if you find the person please let me know so I can give them credit! 

"Daaad!" Rosie yelled up the stairs. "Sherlock chased off another date!"

John rolled his eyes with a big sigh and started down the stairs from his room. His sixteen-year-old daughter was at the bottom waiting for him, tapping her foot. Her light blonde hair was let down loosely at her shoulders and clung to her sleeves as she crossed her arms. 

"What did he say this time?" John asked, moving around Rosie and into the kitchen of 221B Baker Street. Sherlock was looking in the fridge, pretending to be involved in an experiment. He whistled softly as he moved around some jars. Sensing John's presence, he turned around on his heels and rested his arm on the fridge handle.

"We need milk," he said coolly.

"Sherlock, what did you say to Arthur?" John asked, crossing his arms and legs and leaning against the doorframe. 

"Who?"

"Sherlock."

"All I said was that he wasn't a good fit," said Sherlock, closing the fridge door. He made a quick dash past John and picked up his violin. With a slight grin on his face, he began playing God Save the Queen. 

Rosie's cheeks began to feel hot. Her eyes welled up with tears as she watched Sherlock glide the bow across the strings. The song was beautiful, but that didn't make up for his actions. Rosie decided she had had enough.

"You're always ruining things! I wish we never moved in with you!" Rosie yelled. Sherlock stopped playing and stared at her as she stormed over to him. She grabbed the bow right out of his hand and promptly snapped it in half on her knee. The remnants were thrown on the floor and Rosie sprinted to her room, which had previously been Sherlock's. John heard the door slam as he looked at Sherlock.

"Sh- She... my..." Sherlock stuttered. "She broke it. How DARE she!" He yelled mid-sentence. Sherlock carefully placed his Stradivarius on his chair and stepped over the coffee table, where he threw himself on his couch with his back facing John. Sherlock had been sleeping on the couch ever since John and Rosie had moved in, when Sherlock reluctantly agreed that Rosie needed privacy. 

John looked from Rosie's room to Sherlock and put his hand on his temple. He stood still for a few seconds, collecting himself, before exclaiming; "Sherlock Holmes! Stop being a drama queen and tell me what you said to Arthur!" John stomped towards the couch, but before he could do anything, Sherlock sat up straight.

"Fine," he began, "I said that Rosie would probably break up with him a few weeks into their relationship considering the fact that he already has a girlfriend. They've been dating for a few months. Yes, he's cheating on her, but he wants her parents' money. He has a fake ID. He goes to house parties often and is not a virgin. He smokes. You don't want Rosie to get involved in all that, now, do you?" Sherlock raised one eyebrow and leapt up from his chair, walking over to the desk that he and John shared. He opened his laptop and started searching for a new violin bow. Annoyed, John questioned him further.

"And how could you possibly know all of that?" John asked, leaning on the desk with both hands. This man is going to be the death of me and my daughter, he thought. Looking up, Sherlock began to explain his deductions. 

"He has a tattoo on his left arm that he tried, unsuccessfully, to hide. It said Ruby, with hearts around it. Now, a boy his age wouldn't get a tattoo of his mother's name; too embarrassing for his friends to see. So it must be a promise to a girl. The tattoo is new and he hasn't attempted removal yet." Sherlock started talking in a mocking voice. "'But Sherlock, how can he get a tattoo if he's only sixteen?' That's were the fake ID comes in. He took advantage of it to develop a smoking habit, which is why he had a lighter. He's a hard partier, too; his breath reeked of alcohol, suggesting he went to a party the night before. Explains the headache he was complaining about too."

"But how did you know he's not a-"

"Of course he isn't."

John and Sherlock sat in silence for a moment. In his mind, John went over what he would say to Rosie; would he say that Sherlock was being rational? Would he side with her? John wondered if he should just leave her alone. Then, Sherlock spoke.

"You're wondering why I said those things, correct?" He asked.

"Well, yes--"

"Rosie is all you have left, also correct?"

"Sherlock, please--" Sherlock cut John off again.

"So then why don't you use the help you've got?" Sherlock questioned, looking up at John with sad eyes. "Rosie is your pride and joy. She's perfect. I was just trying to keep her safe-- for you." Tears filled John's brown eyes as he squeezed the life out of Sherlock. 

"Thank you." He said.

"Yes, yes, you're welcome. Now, go get some milk. I'll talk to Rosie," Sherlock demanded. Wiping the tears from his eyes, John smiled. 

"You arse."

Thank you for reading :)

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Too Smart for Your Own Good: Part 1

Pairings: Machine Gun Kelly x Reader, (Past and Future) Henry Cavill x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, one night stand, unprotected sex

Word Count: 2,551

A/N: Doesn’t have a completed end yet, but just giving you more content to try to get myself out of a writing funk. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So there’s something you need to know about my cousin.” Ashleigh sighed as she took her ID back from the guard at the gate of your very exclusive Malibu community. Colson looked over at his best friend and manager as she ran her fingers through her hair and looked out the front window for a moment. With a small shake of her head, she looked over at him with a small sigh. “She’s weird, OK? And like… stupid rich.”

“Stupid rich.” He confirmed with a huff as the guard got off the phone with you and let your guests into the beach side development. “What, you got a fucking actor in your family I don’t know about, Ash?” Your cousin sighed again, trying to figure out just how to explain the one branch of her blood line no one really ever talked to or about.

“She discovered a new branch of stars and like micro planets and shit in the Milky Way that no one knew existed… when she was eleven.” Kels felt his jaw actually drop as his friend continued past the extravagant houses to the only gate guarded house at the very end of the road. “So her grandmother, Ann was the woman that invented the baby carrier in the 60’s for her son, my Uncle Negan, who is now the president of a motorcycle gang in LA- the Sanctuary? You heard of them?”

“Heard of ‘em.” He confirmed with a nod as he looked up at what he could see of the massive house through the slow moving bars of your personal gate.

“He married my mom’s sister, Lucille, and they had (Y/N). Aunt Lucille died in child birth, and Negan and my family got in a huge fight over who was a better fit to raise my cousin. With all the money that she was lined up to get, it was almost a sickening free for all for my parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles. But in the midst of the arguing, it turned out she was genius level smart. Like Sheldon Cooper from Big Bang Theory was literally loosely based off her and she gets royalties off that shit. And after seeing all of the fighting going on over her for no reason, she convinced her dad to write us all off as a toddler. Which he happily did because he does anything his little girl asks him to do. She doesn’t talk to any of the older generations of my family but she talked to must of the cousins occasionally as long as they weren’t asking for money. Which, in the end, basically left me because I just see her as my cousin and not for her money.” Kels nodded his head slowly as Ashleigh parked her car and turned off the ignition. 

“She’s an amazing person that has had one hell of a life because of her circumstances. Picked on for being rich, for being smart… for actually remembering her mother’s death. And it doesn’t help that her dad is in a gang or that he’s in prison for manslaughter or something like that.” Ashleigh shook her head again and grabbed her purse off the back seat to go inside. “She never had a chance. But I love coming up here when I come to town…”

“You better have my love child with you!” You shouted as you headed up the stairs on the side of your house that ran along the edge of the cliff which acted like a giant privacy wall for the left side your property. “Hi, I’m all sandy but still.”

“He’s with me.” Ash giggled as you wiped your hands off on your short jean shorts and stopped for only half a second to kiss her cheek. “I need a favor.”

“This is not favor town, Ash.” You said as you pulled open the back door to coo at your second cousin, Ashton. “This is Auntie love time! Hi munchkin!” 

“(Y/N), this is Colson Baker, AKA Kels, or Machine Gun Kelly.”

“Kels is fine.” Colson said as you tossed Ashton up in the air a few inches to make him laugh.

“Mr. Baker works just as well.” You cooed to your cousin as you put him on your hip and turned to head inside. “Because I’m going to assume that the favor the pair of you need involves him, which leads me to deduce that this is a business transaction of some kind. You may either follow, or stand in my driveway all day, either option is acceptable in the world today. Freedoms and whatnot. Unless you are waiting for a formal invitation in which case, I’d be more than happy to write one up for you.”

“Her social skills with new people aren’t the best either.” Ashleigh whispered as low as she physically possibly could as she slung her bag over her shoulder and followed you toward the wrought iron gate at the entrance of your atrium. “But it’s better when you get to know her…”

“I can hear you talking shit, bitch.” You said evenly as you stopped and held the gate open for your guests. You gave the stranger to you a once over with your eyebrow raised as he passed by you and gave him a slight half nod. “I don’t see the purpose of small talk and sarcasm is the best defense in the world.”

“Small talk is over-rated.” Kels agreed as he, too, checked you out as shamelessly as you had. “Nice ink.”

“Save it.” You huffed with a smirk as you walked through the guest atrium and pushed open your ten foot tall, solid wood, pivot hinge front door to reveal the breathtaking view of the Pacific Ocean you had. “What do you need? Yes, I’m putting you down.” You giggled as you set Ashton down on the floor and reached down for his hand to lead him over so he could push the window button, which made the glass panels slide open like doors into the walls so he could play out in the little private yard you had.

“Well… OK, so every year…” Ashleigh started as you helped Ashton into his favorite swing. “…we put on this concert for Christmas called XXmas. It’s fuckin’ crazy and it’s been sold out the last few years easy. It’s a two hour long set and they do some local Cleveland rappers for openers. (Y/N), you gotta see it some time. I mean, the following that Kels has managed to create…”

“The concert is in two days.” Colson interrupted when he noticed the slight hint of annoyance on your face. “And my guitarist broke his arm in a car accident last night. Now, Ash says you’re some kinda musical genius or some shit and you’d be able to help…?”

“I have plans.” You stated evenly as you kept your eyes locked on the toddler in front of you.

“It’s one night.” Ashleigh breathed, pleadingly as she took a step closer to you so you’d almost be forced to look up at her. “One night and I can make sure you are on a plane back that night or early the next morning. I’ll even pay for a private jet out of my own pocket to get you back on time to see your dad for Christmas if I have to.” With an audible sigh, you looked up at your cousin with a small shake of your head.

“Fuck you.”

“I love you, too.” She beamed, knowing that you were never going to say no to helping her out. You rolled your eyes and growled as you continued to push your cousin.

“Alright, play your songs. Which ever ones you want me to know, start playing them before I change my mind.” Colson looked a little stunned and glanced over at Ashleigh, who quickly pulled out her phone and nodded.

“She has an eidetic memory. All she needs to do is hear it once and she can memorize it.”

“Changing my mind over here.” You joked, flatly as you shot her an annoyed glare. “And it’s too close to Christmas to fight with flights so I’ll hire a jet. Hope your tickets are refundable.”

——

You choose to spend the four and a half hour flight sitting in the back of the private jet, with three different head phones in, listening to the full set list on repeat in your right ear, a narrated dissertation of someones research on further exploration of one of your original dissertations about the Milky Way’s cannibalism of surrounding stars in your left, and the feed back from your electric guitar in the head set you had over both ear buds. Your dad always told you you were crazy when you ‘nerded out’ like this, not being able to understand how you were able to have three different forms of audio stimulus going at the same time, nor how you could differentiate and focus on all three simultaneously. Even though you had your eyes closed, you could see the shift in the sun light in front of you and no matter how much you tried to ignore the feeling of eyes boring into your face, you couldn’t.

“This better be good.” You sighed as you pulled off your head set and pulled out both ear buds in an attempt to look civil.

“Three head phones?” Colson asked as you dropped the hardware in your lap and paused the two recordings on your phone.

“Keeping up with a dissertation from a colleague, listening to the set list, and messing around with it on my guitar.” You told him as you pointed to the corresponding head sets.

“Messing around with the set?” He asked as he scooted forward a bit in his chair and looked at the classic honey burst Les Paul on your lap. “Gunna share with the class?”

“Didn’t plan on it.” You responded as you tucked your legs up on the chair and held out one of the headphones. “But I’ll indulge all the same.” He nodded his head and put only one side over his ear while you handed him the other music headphone, put the original one in your ear, and pulled up the next track on the list. Your eyes closed again as the opening cords for ‘Rehab’ started playing, and you jumped right in with the riff that you had wrote in your head more to play for your father when you went to see him for Christmas.

“You wrote that?” Colson asked when you had finished. “You write music, too?!”

“No. No, I don’t.” You said quickly as you took back your headphones from him and put the extra ear bud away. “I… well, I remix songs. For my dad, mostly. When I go and visit… well I have a guitar there, and on nicer days, we sit outside and play name that tune. And I get my competitive side from him so I’ve gotten really good at recreating songs so that he can’t guess them but so they still sound like the original track.”

“So what’s he in for?” He asked innocently, which made you instantly stiffen and throw a wall up.

“Does it matter?” You retorted a little sharply. “He’s in prison.”

“Yo, my bad.” He said quickly as he held his hands up in surrender. “Didn’t know it was a touchy subject.” You nodded your head and glanced down at your lap as you started putting your headphones back in.

“Look, I’m not here to make friends, Mr. Baker. I’m here to help out some family, then I’m going home. That’s all. I don’t need friends…”

“Yea, you fucking got it.” He barked back as he got up from his chair to go back to his friends. With a shake of your head, you started your music and your paper back up, and slipped back into your anti-social bubble for a little bit longer.

——

You had never been an adrenaline junkie in your life, having had enough experiences with the club, but as you stood on the stage, playing through the set, you actually started craving the feeling. The high that the crowd was creating, feeding your soul and the music pouring out of the speakers behind you. You felt like a total rock star and you were glad that this feeling was something that you would remember forever.

It hadn’t taken you long into the set for you to notice Kels either, and not just notice, but really notice him. How sexy he looked in his low slung red pants with his ethika boxers peeking out. You hated that you were turned on by this stupid punk… but fuck if you couldn’t help but want to fuck his brains out. Even if his kid was only a hundred feet away from you, even if you never planned on seeing or speaking to him ever again. You almost needed to be under his sweat drenched body as fast as you could or your head was going to explode.

“She smiles.” Colson teased when the last cords of the last song faded away in the auditorium. You smirked and pulled out your ear phones as you handed off Ace’s guitar to the stage hand.

“Occasionally. Only when I’m having a really good time.” He nodded his head and looked around for a moment before grabbing your arm and turning you toward a side stage door. “Colson…?”

“You… are driving me fucking crazy.” He growled as he locked the door behind him with a shake of his head. “And I want to be pissed off at you for being a bitch for no fucking reason… but fuck I wanna fuck you way to Goddamn bad.”

“Oh, fuck…” You moaned as he pushed you back against a shelving unit and quickly started ripping at your jean shorts button.  “Kels… the crew… your daughter…”

“Guess I’ll just have to be quick then.” You whined at him as he shoved your bottoms off, and lifted you up off the floor by the backs of your thighs. He pushed his boxers and pants down only as far as he needed, and slid into you. Your eyes rolled back and you grabbed on to his shoulder and the shelving unit you were pressed up against. It was short, quick, and dirty, and you both got off within a couple minutes, but it was absolutely worth it… until it wasn’t.

“Thanks for helping out… and not just on stage…” Colson said, almost dismissively as you both pulled up your bottoms. You let out a huff and ran your fingers through your hair.

“Do me a favor and don’t even so much as think my fucking name ever again.” You snapped as you pushed past him and threw the door to the closet open. You walked quickly to the green room, grabbed your bag and your guitar case off the floor and pulled out your phone to call a cab as Ashleigh called out your name from across the room. As a lone tear fell down your cheek, you simply walked away from her, back through the stadium halls, and out the back door, leaving your brief lapse of judgement in the janitors closet behind you.

Part 2

[lunaraen]

I figure a number of the people following me probably do because of a shared interest in Minecraft: Story Mode, and I’m absolutely going to take the time to gush and recommend a different series with a similar sense of humor and ability to balance the jokes with emotion. I know some of the people who follow me are also interested in series like Percy Jackson and Trollhunters, and I think The Last Kids on Earth series is on a similar level to them too, in the sense that it deals with stories about awesome and terrifying adventures featuring teenagers who are just doing their best and who haven’t lost their senses of humor. The Last Kids on Earth also has the benefit of, while being presented mainly through text, having many fun illustrations.

TL;DR: The Last Kids on Earth, written by Max Brallier and illustrated by Douglas Holgate, is a delightfully fun book series that twists what you might expect from a post-apocalyptic story with a just as fun Netflix mini-series adaptation, and while only Book One is up on Netflix now, it’s an hour and seven minute long episode. The series seems to be decently stocked in most libraries, including electronically, so if you’re looking for something fun, silly, and with heart to read, I definitely suggest at least checking out book one. If you want something fun, silly, and with heart to watch, and you also happen to have Netflix, I also definitely recommend watching Book One.

(Oh, and are you a total sucker for found families like I am? This series has you covered.)

More details about the first book and examples of the art and writing under the cut!

For starters, the series has a wonderfully fun art style, and the cover for the first book lets that shine. The other books’ covers are all fun too, but I think tumblr would kill this post many times over if I tried to include them all.

[ID: Illustrated cover, four defiant teenagers stand in a mostly circular formation while grey zombie-like figures with glowing yellow eyes surround them from behind. Each teenager is wielding a weapon, some of which are partly concealed and harder to identify. The character centered at the front holds a splintered and sharp baseball bat and is wearing nondescript pouches. The teenager behind him wields a crossbow with a modified soda-bottle-arrow loaded in it. The title reads “The Last Kids on Earth” in stylized green text with a dark blue border, while in smaller less stylized white text it reads “Max Brallier Author of Galactic Hot Dogs” at the top and “Illustrated by Douglas Holgate” at the bottom.]

The main character of the series, who we meet forty two days after the start of the apocalypse in his town and the Possible End of the World as We Know It™, is Jack Sullivan, a 13 year old whose foster family kinda-sorta-entirely ditched him at the first signs of trouble.

[ID: A white, black haired teenager frowning and holding a splintered baseball bat and a hockey stick while one foot rests on top of an unusual spiny reptilian-like monster head. The text above him reads in black “JACK SULLIVAN -The Hero-” while a number of flavor-text text boxes point out and describe different aspects of his apparel. One pointing to his hand reads “Annoying hand-nail I can’t stop picking at”. Another pointing at his bat says “Louisville Slicer™”. Another for his shoe, reading “Worst. Shoes. Ever.”. The hockey stick is labelled “Hockey Stick, for conking zombie heads.” The pouch at his side are described as “Emergency Peanut M&M Pouch”, while the filled water balloons also hanging at his side are labeled as “Grapefruit juice hand grenades- a blast to the eyes blinds almost anything.”]

He’s our narrator, and he copes largely through humor- a skill he needs even before the start of the apocalypse, because he’ll put himself in danger and say things he shouldn’t if it means sticking up for his best friend.

[ID: Text that reads “I felt Quint’s hand on my shirt, trying to stop me, saying ‘Jack, it’s fine...’ But it wasn’t fine. I hate jerks- whether they’re monster jerks or zombie jerks or just regular human jerks.”

Followed by illustration of characters on bus, Jack turned around in his seat and supporting himself with the back of his chair as he asks “Hey, Dirk, why don’t you pick on someone your own size, huh?” Quint, a black teenager, is sitting behind him and is partly obscured, staring at Jack and Dirk. Dirk, a large, tall white teenager with a mullet/mohawk, is a distance away from the characters and in the foreground of the image, and replies, “Find someone my size and I will.”

Text resumes, reading “I shrugged. ‘I’m sure we can find someone your size. Right, Quint?’ Quint looked out the window and closed his eye and started humming to himself, like he wasn’t involved in this. Sonofa... I turned back to Dirk. ‘Maybe a very rotund panda bear? That might be closer to your impressive figure.’ Dirk reached out and grabbed me by the collar. ‘Hey, Watch the jacket,’ I said. ‘It’s a five-time-hand-me-down. Might even be an antique.’ Dirk growled, ‘You think you’re funny?’ ‘I do. But to be fair, I also think people slipping on ice are funny. And guys getting hit in the groin. My sense of humor isn’t exactly sophisticated.’”]

From the start of the book, Jack handles the apocalypse pretty well, spending his time cataloging the monsters he comes across, keeping track of self made video-game like achievements like knocking off zombie hats, and we first find him focused on trying to get in touch with his previously mentioned best friend, Quint Baker.

[ID: Similar to previous flavor-text text box picture of Jack, with a black teenager smiling, wearing a lab coat and cap, holding a pocket watch, and wearing a large backpack with odd looking technology sticking out of it. In black, the text above him reads “QUINT BAKER -The Best Friend-”. A box pointing to his hat reads “Old-man cap.” Another points to his hair, reading “Hair smells like movie theater popcorn butter.” The pocket watch is described as “Pocket watch for looking dorky.” The text pointing at the technology sticking out of the backpack says “Always working on a new gadget or experiment.” The text for the lab coat reads “Wears a lab coat as a jacket for no good reason.” His sneaker is labelled with “Non-athlete’s foot.”]

Actually- to give you an even better idea of the series’ humor, this is pretty much where we start with Jack, followed by him explaining what he’s been doing and how he got here.

[ID: Jack in mid-air, the bat raised above his head and his legs bent to suggest he has leaped forward, above a large multi-eyed spiny monster that has many sharp teeth, two large tusks, and a long drooling tongue. In black, text above the creature reads “Deadly Duel!” In the lower right-hand corner, all-caps white text in a small black box asks “Who will triumph?!”]

(By the by, the “duel” kind of goes the way you think it would.)

[ID: Text reading “Well, basically, he triumphs. The monster’s massive hand snatches me out of midair. I’m a thimble in his gargantuan grasp. I try to grab hold of my baseball bat blade (aka the Louisville Slicer) but the monster’s crushing grip pins my arms to my sides. He pulls me in close to his face. Thick saliva, like slime, oozes down his lips. His eyes scan me over and his gaping nostrils flair as he inhales my scent. I feel like that blonde babe in King Kong. Only I don’t think this beast wants to hug me and love me... He sniffs some more, blowing my hair back as he exhales. I turn my face. His breath, it’s just- wow- my man here needs to floss. I’ve encountered other freaky beasts over the last forty-two days, but none like this. None that examined me: looking me over, smelling me, studying me.”]

Then we get all the fun backstory end of the world stuff.

[ID: White all-caps text at the top reads “Total monster zombie chaos” while below a large multi-armed, spiny, sharp-toothed, furry monster towers over a sea of zombies, flinging one car in the air as another car sits in the background.]

The end of the world monsters include everything from weird unfamiliar creatures like the one above to more familiar weird creatures like the typical zombie below.

[ID: A zombie in ripped clothing, with black text at the top labeling it a “Classic Zombie”. A speech bubble from it in shaky text reads “Mmuhhh...” and various flavor-text text boxes surround it. The speech-bubble is labeled as “Constant, creepy moaning.” The head’s text box reads “Those empty eyes- they’re spooksville.” The mouth is pointed at and its box says “Bite you and you’re one of them. Undead!” One pointing at its back warns “Stink like hot garbage.” The feet are described as “Slow, until they get close- then fast!”]

And for all the wisecracks and jokes about how well he can handle the new apocalyptic world, early on Jack is shown to be more than just a 2-D smart-mouthing teenage protagonist. He’s pretty good at coping, but he’s still 13.

[ID: Illustration above text, showing a walkietalkie shattering as it hits a rock. Black all-caps text reads “Smash!”

Normal text reads “I stared at the walkie on the ground below. I needed to talk to Quint, but -I’m embarrassed to admit- I was too scared to go down there. Too freaked out. Too scared. Too everything. So I curled up on the floor. I pulled a jacket down over me. I put my earphones in to drown out the sounds of chaos outside. And I slept. I slept for days. It got worse. Zombies everywhere. Giant monsters on the horizon. I blacked out the tree house windows and stayed put.”]

Jack doesn’t stay alone for long, though, and the first book follows him and his friends as they help each other not only survive their crazy new world but also live in it, and maybe actually have some fun along the way. While the first book largely focuses on the group coming together, later stories ramp up the scope of adventures and the threats they face while letting the characters’ interactions and care for each other shine. There’s fun development to be had and cool monster-butt to kick.

(This was my first time writing image descriptions- if you think they can be improved, let me know!)

[honeypiehotchner]

Deception -- part two

Hello lovelies! Here’s another part xx. (Also, I promise she meets John in the next chapter!)

As Mycroft said, Sherlock is waiting for us on the plane at Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport. But not as Mycroft said, Sherlock has no idea I’m who Mycroft was picking up.

           It’s evident on his face that he wasn’t expecting me, which only leaves me fuming. Mycroft Holmes and his stupid web of lies to bend people to his will. Sometimes, it can be most annoying.

           Once we’re in the air, the arguing begins.

           “Why is she here?” Sherlock practically yells, then looks back at me. “No offence.”

           “None taken,” I shrug.

           “She’s here because I asked her to be,” Mycroft explains. “And because we have something to talk about.”

           “What now?” Sherlock groans. “I was supposed to be in Iraq yesterday.”

           “Yes, I know,” Mycroft sighs. “But this is about Dr. Watson.”

           “John? John’s fine.”

           “John is not fine, Sherlock, and you know it,” Mycroft snaps. “You want so desperately for me to keep him safe while you are gone—”

           “Because when I return, things are going to go back to normal. I’ll need my doctor.”

           “Yes, well, your doctor hasn’t left Baker Street in an entire week since your funeral and he has an appointment with a therapist tomorrow.”

           “So?” Sherlock shrugs. “He’s seen therapists before.”

           “Dr. Stewart is going to be John’s therapist,” Mycroft announces, or shall I say, throws me completely under the bus.

           “What? Why?”

           “Because Dr. Watson is not safe,” Mycroft hisses. “And if I am to keep a close watch on him while you are gone, I need a different way.”

           “So you brought an agent out of retirement to be— Oh.”

           “You’re getting slow, brother mine,” Mycroft smiles sweetly. “Yes, I brought Dr. Stewart here out of retirement to be John’s therapist and to keep a close eye on him.”

           “An undercover mission,” Sherlock shakes his head.

           “Twins,” I mutter quietly, trying and failing to add some humor into this awful situation.

           “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

           “Because I knew you’d object.”

           “And my opinion means nothing to you, is that it?”

           “Yes, that’s exactly it,” Mycroft replies coldly. “You wanted to disappear completely, well, that comes with consequences. Consequences that we cannot ignore if you want to eventually return to England.”

           I give Mycroft a strange look.

           “What?”

           “I hate that you have a point,” I breathe. “I hate to say it, Sherlock, but he’s right.”

           “So what if he’s right? It’s boring.”

           “And now you’re throwing a tantrum,” I roll my eyes. “Seriously, Sherlock, you went out into the world and made friends. A good friend. And you got him swept up in this mess, and you expect him to be fine when you die?”

           “Oh, please, I’m not actually dead.”

           “He doesn’t know that!” I cry. “When are you going to get it through your head that people care?”

           “When I can find data to back it up,” he counters.

           “Ladies and gentlemen, the endlessly ignorant, Sherlock Holmes.”

           “Oh, don’t start that again!”

           “I’m going to start that again,” I laugh. “You know why? Because you’re acting like an asshole, Sherlock. You want to disappear? Fine. Go. Disappear. But if you think for one second that your disappearance won’t affect anyone, you’re wrong. Do you want to know how it felt when Mycroft told me you’d died? Cold. Frozen. I didn’t know what to think. And I hadn’t spoken to you in a long time. Imagine how much more amplified that feeling must be for John.”

           “If I worried about how everyone feels, then I’d never get anything done.”

           “I’m not asking you to worry about everyone, Sherlock, I’m just asking you to care about your friends. Because that’s what you do when you make friends. You care about them.”

           I’ve had enough of his bullshit for the time being, so I excuse myself to the back of the jet to lie down and gain some of my senses back. We’ve got roughly eight hours on this plane together and if I don’t sleep for some of it, I think I’ll explode.

~~~

I wake sometime later to Sherlock knocking on the wall, letting me know he’s ventured back here. I lift my head and sit up, motioning for him to sit next to me.

           “You know, I almost didn’t agree to do this. Because I don’t like it.”

           “Like what?”

           “I don’t like lying to innocent people, Sherlock.”

           “An undercover agent with a guilty conscience,” he smirks. “Quite the pair.”

           “It is an unconventional life I lead,” I chuckle. I can tell this is troubling him, too, though, so I say. “Is there anything you want me to know about John? That, I don’t know, might help him.”

           “You want to help him?”

           “Of course I do,” I shrug. “So. Is there anything?”

           “He told when he was standing at my grave that I was the best man and the most human human being he knew.” Sherlock pauses. “So, I guess you should know that he is the man who brought that out of me.”

           “Okay,” I nod, smiling. “Thank you for sharing that.”

           “You can go back to sleep now,” Sherlock murmurs. “We’ve still got another six hours.”

           “Fun,” I chuckle. “But I’m a bit hungry, so I think I’ll order some food.”

           “Alright,” he nods, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he walks ahead of me back out into the main area of the plane.

~~~

“This is your ID,” Mycroft hands me the plastic card. “Your passport, your birth certificate, etcetera.”

           I nod as he hands me the rest of the documents to put into my briefcase. Everything has Dr. Jane Stewart on it. I haven’t decided yet if I would’ve preferred going by a completely different name, but I suppose there’s no time to change that now.

           “There’s a change of clothes in the rest room for you to change into and some makeup for you to use, if you see fit—”

           “Mycroft,” I cut him off with a laugh. “I know. I’ve been here before, remember?”

           “Yes, well, it has been a while. I just wanted to be sure you remembered everything.”

           “How could I forget,” I scoff, closing the briefcase. “I’ll be off to get changed.”

           “Your new phone and laptop should be here when you are finished.”

           “Alright,” I breathe, yanking the door to his rest room open. There on the counter sits my new change of clothes, completely different from the summer outfit I traveled here in.

           It’s a navy-blue dress which I despise – dresses, not the color – but if I’m going to be someone different then I am to wear something different, something I would never wear. It’s standard protocol, so I tug on the dress without another thought.

           The shoes – heels, rather, are quite nice, though I know my feet are going to protest soon. I slip my feet inside all the same, straightening the dress over my shoulders as I glance at myself in the mirror.

           I take my hair down, letting it flow over my shoulders. I suppose a haircut won’t be in order because I already wear it so many different ways. Still, I pin some of it back and leave some strands loose. I imagine this person, this Jane Stewart is professional even when she is not practicing. Always elegant and eloquent, even when she doesn’t need to be. She’s a strong woman, and therefore dresses that way and holds herself that way. I square my shoulders, tilting my chin up in the slightest. She’s sure of herself and sure of this world. She walks her own path and doesn’t think twice about the next step she takes.

           Oh, what fun it will be to pretend.

           I use some of the makeup provided, like the foundation to cover some trouble spots and the mascara to add something to my eyes without doing a lot. There’s no lipstick here, but I might buy some sometime soon. It’s been a while since I’ve worn it, and Jane seems like someone who would.

           I zip the makeup bag up and grab my old clothes, walking back into Mycroft’s office with a smile. I hand the old clothes off to someone to burn – or at least, that’s what I’m assuming they’ll do with them. That’s normally what happens, but who knows.

           “Do you have a watch?” I blurt, setting the makeup bag down on a chair. “It just seems odd that there wasn’t one.”

           Mycroft nods to his desk. There, sitting on top of the documents in my briefcase is a watch. The straps are brown, but the face is a simple black and white design. It’s perfect to what I had in mind.

           “Thank you,” I take the watch and strap it on my left wrist without looking. I’m too focused on what Mycroft is looking at. “What is that?”

           “Terror cells that my brother is trying to infiltrate,” Mycroft replies easily. “If he doesn’t get himself killed, it’ll be a miracle.”

           I frown. “That doesn’t sound promising.”

           “It’s not,” Mycroft leans back in his chair. “But when Sherlock makes up his mind, the decision is final. Anyway,” he shoves the file away, sliding over a laptop. “This is yours to use. And here is your new phone. I have my number under a code name—”

           “What is it?”

           “What?”

           “Your code name.”

           He practically glares at me. “Mikey.”

           “Mikey!” I laugh. “Are you joking?” I pick up the phone and go to the contacts. “Oh, that’s golden.” It’s my nickname for him and has been for years. Only to annoy him, though, as I see it still does.

           “Yes, I knew you’d find it amusing,” he smiles tightly. “Now, I probably will not call you often. I’d prefer if our meetings are handed through email or in person – in person is most preferred, if you can bear it. If I do call you, it will most likely be in the event of an emergency.”

           “Gotcha.”

           “I don’t see there being an instance when someone other than yourself would have ahold of your phone, but in the event that they do, my name is ‘Mikey’ and not Mycroft.”

           “Do regular people really know your name?”

           “The right and wrong people do, yes. And John Watson knows it well,” he sighs. “Now a car is waiting outside to take you to your home. I can have a car delivered for you later today if you want to drive yourself around, if not, that’s fine as well.”

           “I think I’ll want a car,” I reply, thinking of how Jane is. “So, yes, send one. If you don’t mind.”

           “Not at all,” he leans over to make a note on some pad by his phone. “Here is a file on Dr. Watson. It’s all background information and some key pages from his blog, though I suppose if you wanted to read his blog, you could read it online.”

           “Thank you,” I pack away the laptop, phone, and file into my brief case, shutting it and flicking the locks. “Is that all?”

           “I believe so.”

“Well,” I smile. “It was nice meeting with you, Mr. Holmes.”

           I can already feel everything shifting. It’s the one thing I did not miss about going undercover.

           You have to become someone else. You have to adapt a completely different identity, personality, demeanor, everything. You can lose yourself doing this. And I almost did a couple of times.

           Maybe it isn’t such a bad thing now, having my middle and last name intact, as well as my profession. I do have a degree in psychology, just never used. Being an agent somehow swept me along before I could use my degree elsewhere in social services.

Well. I suppose there is a right time for everything. And I suppose the right time for me to be a therapist is now.

~~~

The house I am dropped off at is in the suburbs, which I expected. Therapists normally do sessions out of their homes, especially private therapy, which I’m assuming is John’s preferred method seeing as his last therapist did the same.

           He’s a private person. I’ve gathered that much from skimming his file on the ride here. He’s very reserved, even when he’s all in the papers because of Sherlock.

           The house is nice, though. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms. It has a large living area with two chairs set up by the big windows toward the back. I assume that’s where John and I will be sitting tomorrow for our session. The kitchen is sized fairly well. I’m not that great of a cook, though, so regardless that doesn’t do me much good. My bedroom is nice, larger than what I’m used to, with a bathroom connected. The guest room – which I don’t know why I have, other than the fact that this is all for show – is nice as well. A bit smaller, but not suffocating.

           It’s decorated nicely. Modern. Not my usual taste, but then again, I’m not the one living here. Dr. Jane Stewart is.

           I throw myself down on the couch, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep and wake up – as myself – back in America. Where I’m not a spy. Where I’m not Dr. Jane Stewart. Where I’m not Agent N. J. Stewart. Where I’m just Nicole. And that’s it.