#not to be abnormal about him but oh my god

[cushfuddled]

I saw your Sherlock post from a couple of weeks ago just now and lol greetings from the other direction. The show died for me in season 3 when Sherlock tricked his only friend into thinking they're about to die in an explosion so John HAS to forgive Sherlock for... what is ultimately another mean trick against that friend (Reichenbach), which Sherlock didn't do to save John/Mrs. Hudson/Lestrade since Mycroft had that covered, but only because he thought John would blab. AauuuGGGHHHH.

DUDE I am passing you an "I survived Sherlock BBC" T-shirt through the screen.

Also.

YOU'VE ACTIVATED MY "SHERLOCK BBC IS A TOXIC YAOI SIMULATOR" TRAP CARD! WOE, A SHERLOCK BBC VENT BE UPON YE!

What pisses me off is that, like, Moftis could've leaned into the bullshit at least. They could've made it a CHOICE.

IMO Sherlock BBC was a horror story about homophobia and codependency. Moftis made it very clear that John is "addicted" to conflict; to danger; to Sherlock. Throughout the show John furiously stresses his heterosexuality to anyone who'll listen. He breaks himself to conform to a "normal life" with a woman and a child and a steady job. But he can only play pretend for so long. I'll never recover from that wildly on-the-nose scene where John goes to sleep next to his wife and dreams about Afghanistan (a parallel to the first scene of episode one) and his life with Sherlock.

SHERLOCK (in the dream): Seen a lot of injuries, then? Violent deaths? JOHN (in the dream): Enough for a lifetime. (In the Watsons’ bedroom there’s a pounding sound nearby, as if someone is knocking on the front door.) SHERLOCK (in the dream): Want to see some more? JOHN (in the dream): Oh, God, yes. (The banging sound comes again and John jolts and sits up in bed. Half asleep, in his mind’s eye he can see Sherlock looking intensely at him.) SHERLOCK: The game is on. (He smiles.) (John wakes up properly and throws back the covers.)

This transcript neglects to mention the shot of John ripping his hand from his wife's as he races out of the bedroom. He throws the front door open, and expresses clear disappointment when it's not Sherlock on the other side.

John DESPERATELY wants to be a normal heterosexual dude with a normal heterosexual marriage, but he can't escape his nature.

SHERLOCK (louder, talking over her): John, you are addicted to a certain lifestyle. You’re abnormally attracted to dangerous situations and people … (his voice becomes quieter again) … so is it truly such a surprise that the woman you’ve fallen in love with conforms to that pattern? (John grimaces briefly and then, with his eyes still fixed on Sherlock, he points towards his wife at the other side of the room.) JOHN (his voice full of suppressed tears): But she wasn’t supposed to be like that. (Mrs. Hudson looks across to Mary in shock. Mary lowers her head.) JOHN (to Sherlock, pointing again across the room, his voice a little stronger): Why is SHE** like that? (Sherlock looks away towards the sofa wall for several seconds and then turns to look directly into John’s eyes.) SHERLOCK: Because you chose her. (John stares back at him, his face unreadable. Sherlock holds his gaze. Finally John turns away, speaking conversationally.) JOHN: Why is everything … (he walks towards the dining table, holding up a questioning hand and shrugging) … always … (his voice raises to a loud shout) … MY FAULT?! (He furiously kicks one of the dining chairs across the floor. Mrs Hudson jumps and flails. Even Sherlock jumps a little, but Mary remains still.)

**The unspoken sentiment here is "I did all this to get away from you/what you represent. Mary was supposed to be normal. She was supposed to make ME normal. So why did she turn out to be just like you?" And of course Sherlock goes, "Because you are YOU, and YOU chose her." No matter how hard John tries to be a different person with different needs, at the end of the day he's still John Watson, and John Watson can't help but want what he wants. As furious as he is at Sherlock and Mary, John is ultimately more furious with himself for his inability to shapeshift into a "normal" man who doesn't need the war/Sherlock.

As the series went on, it got harder and harder for me not to read John's outbursts as him taking out his self-hatred/internalized homophobia on Sherlock. John fucking HATES how much he loves Sherlock. He HATES that he needs Sherlock in his life. He HATES that he couldn't find happiness with a normal life and a normal wife. Sherlock tore John's shot at normalcy away from him. He is the face of everything John can't stand about himself. And so we end up with this:

And then...holy fuck, Sherlock's not exactly a ray of sunshine either. Like you pointed out, a part of Sherlock enjoys putting John through these cruel, elaborate life or death simulations. It would've been easy to construe a scenario wherein Sherlock HAD to keep John out of the loop post-Reichenbach, but Moftis opted for a much more fucked up timeline where Sherlock let John believe he'd committed suicide for years because he...kinda wanted to fuck around Europe on his own for a while? Or didn't trust John to put on a good show?

I can massage the story enough to like, come up with a kinder excuse. If John were to find out about Moriarty's web he'd bite and claw his way to Sherlock's side like he always does, and that would put John's life (even more) at risk (a la Sherlock's eventual capture). Maybe on some level Sherlock understood John's desire to escape, too, and thus opted to "free" John from his leash.

It's more difficult to soften Sherlock's decision to reenter John's life when/how he did.

If memory serves...since the show premiered, Sherlock seemed like he was always on the lookout for new and creative ways to hurt himself (whether on John's behalf, for the sake of "the game," or as a kind of release valve for his pain).

Sherlock's constant need to sacrifice (or punish) himself conflicts with his hunger for John's approval. Sherlock would die for John's happiness...but he also needs John around to make him feel smart/loved. He likes to keep John in the dark until the last possible second—to put John in situations that leave him totally at Sherlock's mercy/dependent upon Sherlock's brilliance—to more or less blunt force engineer these moments of awe and intimacy. He's addicted to John as much as John is addicted to Sherlock, and sometimes that manifests in grand gestures of selfless devotion...and sometimes it manifests in fucked up manipulation games that reassert John's dependence on Sherlock/Sherlock's control over John's life.

So yeah. It's all very fucky IMO. And I wouldn't have suddenly loved the show if Moftis had leaned into that reality, but at the very least I'd have felt a lot less gaslit lmao. Sherlock BBC beat me over the head with the toxic yaoi paddle only to scream at me, "THEY'RE BEST FRIENDS AND THEY WERE MADE FOR EACH OTHER AND YAY AREN'T YOU HAPPY THEY'RE SUCH A GREAT TEAM YAY IT'S ALL GOOD THEY MADE UP AND THEY'RE GOOD NOW IT'S GOOD FOREVER AND EVER YAY!"

Like I'm sorry, but that finale was not a happy one. It wasn't even bittersweet. It was tragic. Mary literally ends the show with, "Who you really are doesn't matter. It's all about the legend." Sherlock and John represent a refuge to people, Mary says. Their story represents hope. We're told the manipulative, miserable, codependent mess of Sherlock and John's reality "doesn't matter." What matters is the front they present to their audience. If I thought this doublespeak was intentional, I would've applauded Moftis for their commitment to the bit at least. It takes balls to look at a legendary package deal like Doyle's Holmes and Watson (I cannot stress enough how cottage-core soft these two are with each other) and say, "What if I made that relationship super fucked up?" But the whole show stinks of empty promises, like Moftis MEANT to tell a story about a fraught but ultimately beautiful (platonic) partnership. What we GOT was a gay horror story about two very traumatized guys who couldn't escape each other's gravitational pull. I mean...pick a lane. Don't TELL me these two love each other like a couple of pals and then SHOW me John catapult between yearnful dreams of Sherlock's face and like, punting Sherlock's broken body into a wall of metal lockers.

Okay, rant over HHHHHHH

[taraxacum-vulpes]

tartaglia sports au. I'm going to be sick

[worshippdsun]

i do not apologize for this (except for the dimensions, but that's bc this is my phone homescreen now)

[flugame-mp3]

what do you fucking mean that's how charlie dies. THAT'S HOW CHARLIE DIES??? i mean i know the show has a penchant for killing off every character who's not a winchester brother or an angel of thursday but good god. what the fuck. charlie was such a good and enjoyable recurring character, and she had such a fandom impact that i've seen, and she's only around for THREE SEASONS?? (sidebar: it's amazing she has the presence she does for only being around for a couple episodes in the long run!) but: was this necessary? and she just dies offscreen after her skills are utilized to progress the plot of decoding the book of the damned?? oh my god. what in the actual fuck. i'm finding myself getting genuinely very upset at her death. she did not fucking deserve that. and i can absolutely see why the fan response to her death is what it is now. completely fucking unjustified and throwaway and useless.

[frecklystars]

this man's sleeves are about to pop open and tear right off. he flexes and his shirt just fucking explodes

[aziraphalesbookkeeper]

Finally. It's Usopp loving hours

[malaierba]

Crying over Kinniku and Iromatsu, cry with me @ the "Karamatsu dies and becomes a ghost and does his best to pretend he's still alive" fic (linked as a source)

[salamencerobot]

HE TWIRLED HER WHEN HE LIFTED HER INTO THE AIR??? AAAAAAA

[unproduciblesmackdown]

also if only the physical copy of how to disappear completely & never be found i first encountered & read a few years ago (sort of [roughly avg age ten] reader book, not any similarly titled How To) hadn't disappeared completely & not been found since, probably b/c i put it somewhere i intended to be For Safekeeping, which is also how my binder vanished....b/c it's one of those like. those book for late elementary/middle school readers when they just weave in this unrealism which makes for a delightful range & unpredicability? and with a cynical protagonist girl like off to the races like wow her mom is depressed asf & smoking? and it's about A Family History Secrets Mystery so blatantly a haunting that the inciting incident is basically introducing a haunted [family history secrets mystery] house. and spoilers don't matter like it's stemming from there being this missing uncle who grew up so in contrast to the Winsome Winning Sibling Who Does It All Right while seeing his own affiliation with rats that he tried to disappear completely & never be found which led to this Tragedy which led to this more unintended disappearance of his & he haunts this house & wants to be left alone & only goes out at night with this [ambiguous Is That A Giant Rat Or Weird Small Dog (protagonist affected by these family situations who expresses her preoccupation with an awareness of how fate can Strike and Get you with this interest with roving packs of killer chihuahuas. people think she's weird though she spontaneously befriends this other girl struck with this bolt from the blue & a bit weird / outcast & then Insightful who i wish was in it more)] & plays into the hauntedness danger like playing into the [something's Wrong with you then] until having to take yet more action where the urge to express the truth comes out more both b/c living that hidden is more threatened but also b/c now the niece children are more threatened as well. ft. a sort of preternatural blurring of time b/c of only being communicated with through this uncle via his comic pages (that he paints?) of dubiously accurate translations of irl events that are created so quickly it seems to verge on foresight, imagine like "hmm what's this painting. it's me standing in this room looking at this painting??? as someone ominous lurks in the shadows right behind me?" in both [now how could you know this & paint it really fast ahead of time] and [horror]

[discoreptile]

Beasties of Greenhollow soundtrack! Some tracks on this are from older projects like elphame but all of them have been reworked in some way. Most of them are entirely new. Enjoy!

[fictionallyinparadise]

GOD why does Karl get to have such an iron grip on me with certain LIIIIINNNESSS. THE FUCKIN............ "I SAID SIT"!!!!!!!!!! and THE "LET'S SEE WHAT YOU'RE REALLY MADE OF" LIKE GOD. GOd............also him smoking and wielding that fuCKING hammer and throwing shit and. and.

[umemiyan]

my feelings for megumi are growing quite similar to the feelings i have for anakin skywalker

this is alarming

[sunflowers-and-sweetviolets]

"Why don't you sit down, honey?" AUGH FUCK

[alice-everafter]

"Were you aware that you talk in your sleep?"

Through the haze of tiredness, Vil's voice rings clear, as it so often does. It takes a few too many blinks to will the grogginess away. But when it does, you turn on your side towards him. He's in a position mirroring your own, his form highlighted by the early morning rays of sunlight leaking in through the window behind him. Swathed in blankets that have clearly seen better days, as was typical of Ramshackle grade furnishing.

"...Good morning to you too, Vil."

He doesn't reply with any words, merely a hum of acknowledgement.

It's unfair how perfect he can look so soon after waking. Cause you know for a fact your hair is in tangles under your head. Makes you feel like a true potato, as he so calls you.

You're reminded of the circumstances behind this current arrangement as he eyes your drowsy self calmly. Turns out, even after renovations, Ramshackle is still ramshackle. It only took one flop onto your bed for the legs holding up the bedframe to give out entirely. The sound had attracted the whole VDC squad, so they got to bare witness to probably one of the most embarrassing moments of your life. Well, Ace made certain that it was, at least.

Originally content to sleep on a slightly shorter than usual bed, Vil had been quite adamant on not letting you. Something about bugs and possibilities of them infesting the mattress. It didn't really matter to you, but somehow you found yourself in his room. Rather, one of your guest rooms. And that was where you still were, letting him eye you down like a product on display.

"...Something on my face?"

"Yes, drool."

Nice to know that Vil's charm was present every hour of the day.

"...What was this about me talking in my sleep?" You try to nonchalantly swipe a hand over your mouth, but it fails spectacularly. Nothing gets past this man.

"You mumble all sorts of nonsense." He looks like a Renaissance painting as he brushes a stray lock from his eyes, tucking it elegantly behind his ear. "I nearly thought you were awake at first, talking to yourself."

"Yes, cause that's totally what one does first thing in the morning. Talk to themself."

The sleepiness has clearly made you overly confident. If the glare he levels you is anything to go by.

"Notice how I said 'nearly.' Meaning I didn't actually think you were. Does the morning dim your wit more than normal?"

"...For someone so insistent on getting me in their bed, you're rather snappy."

"Why I never." That comment gets him riled enough to sit up. You feel tiny as he stares daggers down at you where you continue to lie. In your puddle of disarray, while he's somehow runway ready at the ass crack of dawn.

"How can you look like a Greek god first thing in the morning?" Oh, so you've decided to voice your thoughts out loud. Ok, cool, that's totally what you wanted to do. Totally.

You watch as his anger morphs into confusion. "Greek god?"

"Oh," that's right. That's a 'your world' thing, isn't it. "A reference from back home, don't worry about it."

"Hmph," he grunts. Well, you'd hardly call it a grunt. Vil wouldn't do something as barbaric as grunt. It was more like a delicate, posh scoff. But, he no longer looks as mad as he did before, so you guess it was a good thing you decided to voice your inner musings aloud. "Does this 'Greek god' happen to have flawless skin, gorgeous hair, and impeccable taste?"

You don't want to answer him, cause you know where this is going. But, again, nothing escapes the notice of this man. You're forced to watch his lips curl up into an infuriatingly hot smug grin.

"From your face, I assume so. It's kind of you to notice the obvious."

You're very well awake by now, but you still roll your eyes. You may lowkey highkey fear this man, but nothing could've held that reaction back.

"Yeah, well, they're also incredibly abnormal. Cause the rest of the population doesn't typically wake up looking like a supermodel."

"If you think I'm a supermodel now, then you must think I'm ethereal on a day to day."

You do nothing but grumble as you shuffle to sit up, rubbing leftover sleep from your eyes while pointedly ignoring how he practically preens next to you. When you instinctually card a hand through your hair, instead of it catching on knots like you expect, it goes right through.

"It's the pillow case."

Again, the bastard reads your expression like a book and promptly comments on it.

"Satin is good for both the skin and the hair."

You're tempted to call him extra, cause who brings their own pillow case to someone else's house? But the way your hair feels, how it's free from a majority of its typical morning tangles, shuts you up.

You chance a glance up at him. Head turned towards you, knees bent below the covers, an elbow rested over top, chin held primly in the palm of his hand, still haloed by the rising sun like it’s a paid actor. With an elegant quirk to his brow and an expression equal parts amused and sickly fond.

There is... something running laps in your chest. Begging to be acknowledged. To be known.

"...If you're fishing for another compliment, you'll find that I've reached my daily quota."

You swing your legs over the side of the bed as you hear him click his tongue. And no, it's not running away, but it sort of feels like it is.

"I'll go and make myself presentable before starting on breakfast. You said we needed more protein, right? I was thinking I could make omelets━"

"A shame, really."

You have no clue how he moved so silently, but he was suddenly next to you and unapologetically in your space. Brushing hair behind your ear like he was born to do it. Walking the small distance around to your front so you could see the pleased smile upon his lips and knowing twinkle in his eyes.

Damn him, you can't help but internally curse as goosebumps form where his fingers had barely even grazed. Nothing gets past him, and especially not you.

"I was so hoping for a few more compliments, because I certainly haven't reached my needed quota."

[lecliss]

SCREAMING CRYING BAWLING BREAKING DOWN KADAJ BT/FR FINALLY REAL I CANT BELIEVE ITS REALLY HAPPENING 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Disappointed in his FR partner being the guy from 3 who's name I can't even remember cuz that's how little I care but. My boy!!!!! Its real!!!! Its finally real!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭

[smutinlove]

Jason Todd having a size kink will never not be on my mind. he’s 6ft, 6’2ft depending what universe you’re talking about and weighs at least 200 lbs if not more, he is built like a tank.

took him awhile to get use to his size so being around people who are 5’2 even 5’5, seemed abnormal to him. could pick us up with no effort, throw us over his shoulder and walk like nothing happened.

he would use his weight for advantage, leaning down real close almost suffocating but enough to get the gears turning… his hands? ough. big enough to wrap around throats, thighs.

sorry had some thoughts

YES, OH MY GOD.

after the pit changed him, it took him awhile to get used to his height and general appearance. I mean, this man is 6ft and weighs around 200 pounds.

he'd be hitting his head on doorframes and towering over people. can't reach the cereal box on the top shelf? don't worry, he'll get it.

and he's so strong and muscular too.

oh my god, he'd be the type of person to pick up ANYONE and throw them over his shoulder with no hesitation.

he'd even do it for fun.

and we all know that Jason reads books. he ain't no basic becky, okay? this man reads and it makes men and women feral for him.

this man's hands are big. so basically, he'd be enveloping the book in his hands.

speaking of his big hands, Jason's hands WANDER.

when his face is buried between your thighs, he'll occasionally give them a tight, good squeeze, causing you to whine. then he'll mutter something like: "aw, is my precious angel getting all worked up? come on, baby, i wanna hear those sounds."

this man is addicting.

he'll also occasionally give your throat a nice squeeze if he feels like it. or if you ask him to. he'll do it either way.

his big, veiny hand wrapped around your throat, leaving only a little bit of room for you to breathe.

this man is horny too.

he'll fuck you whenever and wherever. he has no shame. he'll do it in your local grocery stores' bathroom or even at the back of a bar.

and the groans he'll let out while he fuck your brains out.

"come on, doll, 'that all 'ya can do f'me?" or "fuck, you drive me crazy, love. your pretty face and thick thighs. you don't even know half of what you do to me."

More size k!!nk headcanons