#pov john fics

[inevitably-johnlocked]

feed me, stephie

LOVELY I am SO glad whenever you give me an open-ended request, because when I run out of lists that are ready for asks I've gotten, I can instead use one of my already-ready-with-no-ask fic lists instead, LOL... THANK YOU!!

Are ya hungry for some John Angst today? I think that's what I'm gonna feed ya! Hope you're hungry, it's a big one!

Apologies, there ARE some FFNet fics on here... that's how long I've had this list waiting to be posted LOL.

I hope you enjoy, Blue!!

JOHN 3rd PERSON POV Pt. 3: ANGST / ANGSTY FLUFF or BAMF FICS

See Also:

POV John First/Second Person Pt. 1

POV John 3rd Person Pt 1: Fluff, Humour & PWP

POV John 3rd Person Pt 2: Whump & Hurt/Comfort

Too Much by belovedmuerto (T, 567 w., 1 Ch. || Empath AU ||  Empath John, Mild Angst, Cuddles) – Sometimes, it's too much for John.

Five Seconds by xXLadyLovelaceXx (K+, 658 w., 1 Ch. || TGG Pool Scene, Friendship, Introspection) – In the half-second before Sherlock shoots the jacket, John notices something.

Tea by Art and Soul (K, 693 w., 1 Ch. || Angst & Friendship, Reunion) – John’s habit of making tea for two has little use, considering his flat-mate has been dead for three years. But he keeps on making that second cup, hoping he’d wake up and it’d be gone. But it never was…

The Sidewalk by politewarning (K, 956 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF, Angst, Friendship, Sherlock’s Birthday) – Standing on the sidewalk outside the hospital on the 6th of January to have a one-sided conversation with his dead friend was not something John had intended to make into a ritual.

Booted by Sexxica (E, 1,175 w., 1 Ch. || Trapped, Kidnapping, Handcuffs, Biting Kink, Blow Jobs, Coming in Pants, Tight Spaces, Humour, Smut, 69 Sex Position, BJ’s Through Pants) – John and Sherlock have been kidnapped, handcuffed, and stuffed together in a car boot. How come they can never take these situations seriously? Part 3 of the Tumblr Ficlets Gone Wild

Shooter by Amputation (K+, 1,406 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF, Suspense, BAMF!John) – The men were trying to rile the other into acting first, it seemed. How boringly predictable and dull this was! 

Risotto by Richefic (K+, 2,153 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Angst, Misunderstandings, Apologies) – The first time that John cooks dinner for Sherlock is almost the last. Fortunately, Sherlock is really quite observant. Inspired by John's reference in "The Great Game" to there being some leftover risotto in the fridge.

A Room of One's Own by whitchry9 (K+, 2,174 w., 5 Ch. || S2 Timeline, Hurt/Comfort, Supernatural, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Coma, John Whump, Worried Sherlock, POV John, Angst, Friendship/Bromance, Hospital) – When a severe head injury lands John in a coma, somehow he ends up in Sherlock's mind palace. It's actually pretty nice there, and John is entertaining the notion of staying there, rather than returning to his broken body. But Sherlock isn't taking it as well, and John can feel him breaking around him.

Those Days by StillWaters1 (T, 2,663 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD / Sensory Attacks, Caring Sherlock) – If Sherlock had danger nights, then these were John's danger days.

BBCSH ‘Lament’ by tigersilver (T, 2,951 w., 1 Ch. || Implied Infidelity, Angst, Post-HLV, Canon Divergence) – When Sherlock is alone in the flat he still speaks to John Watson.

Undercurrents by entanglednow (E, 2,996 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Disturbing Things, Crime Scene Fetish, Pseudo-Necrophilia, PWP, Masturbation) – “There, that's it, perfect, shut your eyes and don't move - and don't speak."

Until the End of the World by SarahCat1717 (G, 3,049 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, First Kiss, Pining Sherlock, Oblivious John, Drunkenness) – Taking place in Season 3, John listens to an old favourite song and sorts through his memories and feelings about Sherlock and Mary.

Fortune Favours the Wet by CaffieneKitty (K+, 3,668 w., 1 Ch. || Adventure, Trapped John, Mild Peril) – There was something to be said about the quiet of the bottom of a well... Things go wrong for John during a case.

Because Your Coat is Part of You by camellialice (K, 3,705 w., 1 Ch. || 5 and 1, Canon Compliant, Sherlock’s Coat, Angsty Fluff) – Five times John wore Sherlock's coat and one time he didn't need to.

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

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

A Case of Identity by PostcardsfromTheoryland (T, 4,978 w., 1 Ch. ||  Post-TRF, John on Holiday, Pining Sherlock, Whump, Angst, Reunion) – All John wanted was to get away from London for a few weeks. No people pointing and whispering about Sherlock Holmes when he walked past, no reporters wanting an "exclusive" about the dead detective, just some rest and relaxation in the sunshine. Then again, these holiday trips never seem to go as planned.

Electric Potential by pygmymeese (T, 5,011 w., 1 Ch. || Supernatural) – It's not clear why everyone in the world suddenly gets a ghost only they can interact with. All John Watson knows is that he's stuck with a brilliant, if smug, ex-consulting detective, and that life is definitely looking up.

Welcome Home, John by slashscribe (G, 5,504 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S3, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Awkwardness, Stabbed Sherlock, Protective Sherlock, Panic Attack (Sherlock), Self Esteem Issues, Love Confessions, First Kiss) – When John moves back to 221B, he thinks he’s the broken one, but after a while, it becomes clear that he might not be correct.

Excerpts from Purgatory by reapersun, what_alchemy (E, 5,829 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF, Doctor John, Reunion Fic, Rough Sex, Angry Sex, Bottomlock, Fic with Pics)  – John serves community service in homeless shelters for chinning the superintendent. Unbeknownst to him, the Homeless Network has his back.

This Year by DiscordantWords (T, 6,283 w., 2 Ch. || TEH Divergence / No Mary, New Year’s Eve, John’s A Mess, Jealous John, Awkward Conversations, Trapped in a Closet, Estranged After Return, John POV, Semi-Reunion, Angry John, First Kiss, Reconciliation, Clueless Sherlock, Happy Ending) – Last year, Sherlock Holmes showed up at the Landmark with a fake moustache and a bad French accent and threw John's entire life into disarray with two words: "Not dead." This year, there are more surprises in store.

An Interpretation of Viewing Habits by akitsuko (E, 6,653 w., 1 Ch. || Porn Watching, Masturbation, Anal, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Declarations of Love, Jealous Sherlock, Fantasizing, John in Denial / Internalized Homophobia, Bottomlock, Pining Idiots, Sherlock Has No Boundaries, Cockblocking Sherlock) – John watches porn. It's a perfectly normal thing to do. If every video he watches happens to feature actors with remarkable physical similarities to his flatmate, well, that's no one's business but his own. Or: John is in denial, until his infatuation with Sherlock is impossible to deny anymore.

Second Waltz by Atiki (T, 6,685 w.,1 Ch. || MCD, Angst, Fluff, Cancer) – "The night I died, you wished I could wait for you."

A Kiss and a Cuddle should be Sufficient by Evenlodes_Friend (E, 6,853 w.,  3 Ch.|| Gay Sex Club, Fake Relationship, PWP, Orgies, Rimming, BJ’s, Violence, Case Fic, Voyeurism) – Going undercover, Sherlock and John pursue a vicious killer to a gay group sex party. Not unexpectedly, things get a little out of hand. Set after Baskerville, but before the Fall.

Hide and Seek by Arwen Jade Kenobi (T, 6,934 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Reverse Reichenbach, Mycroft is a Dick, Depression, Case Fic, Friendship, Reunion) – Pseudo sequel to "The Refining Fire." "You owe him the truth, and you owe me the proof that will convince him that I had no part in this."

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

I can’t pretend by Salambo06 (E, 7,692 w., 1 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Victor Trevor, Jealous John, Miscommunications, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, First Kiss/Time, Anal, BJs) – They had arrived more than a hour ago, and the moment they had walked inside the hotel reception, John had understood why Sherlock hadn’t wanted to come. Two men, posh suits and expensive watches on their wrists, had come to greet them with sharp remarks and badly hidden mockery, and John had seen red. Sherlock hadn’t said anything, mostly ignoring the two men entirely, and without thinking twice about it, John had slid an arm around Sherlock’s waist and introduced himself as his husband. 

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

Victim, Bait, Hero, Friend by KimberlyTheOwl (T, 7,887 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TGG Epilogue, Angst, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Past Kidnapping / Torture / Implied Rape, Panic Attacks, Worried / Possessive Sherlock, Lestrade is a Good Friend) – Some insights into why John was perfectly willing to throw everything away for a chance to kill Moriarty at the pool. Trauma, ugliness, and finally healing. Some nice supporting work by Lestrade as well.

Every Night I Look for You by destinationtoast (E, 8,377 w., 1 Ch. || POV John, Post-TRF, Angst, Mystery, Unsafe Sex, BAMF John) – Every night, John looks for familiar hints of Sherlock in the men he meets in bars, and he does with them all the things he wishes he’d done before. Eventually, he stumbles into a situation that Sherlock would know how to handle, and John must decide whether he can handle it without him.

Beyond the Vow by tunteeton (M, 8,994 w., 1 Ch. || Love Confessions, Angst with Happy Ending, Post-S3, Explosions, Mary is Good-ish?, 3G, Infant Death) – Being a sociopath was never this emotionally exhausting. 

The Frost Child by twistedthicket1 (M, 9,994 w., 2 Ch. || Frozen-ish AU || Magical Realism, Christmas, Angst, Fluff, Powerful John) – In a world where people are born with a Gift of varying levels, simple John Watson is the last person one might look at when thinking of any strong Magick capabilities. Hiding comfortably in the shadow of Sherlock's brilliant deducing abilities, John is content to keep it that way...

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

Paparazzi by SilentAuror (E, 10,543 w., 1 Ch. || Post S3, Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Friends to Lovers) – John moves back into 221B Baker Street after his marriage falls apart and the paparazzi won't leave him and Sherlock alone about the status of their supposed relationship. Sherlock, of course, never denies it, until one day he does...

London Gods by a_different_equation (E, 11,092 w., 5 Ch. || American Gods Fusion || Magical Realism, Sex Magic, True Love, PTSD John, First Kiss/Time, Marathon Sex, Sensuality, Genie Sherlock, Human John, Internalized Homophobia, Star-Crossed Lovers, Soul Mates) – Sherlock Holmes is a jinn who does not grant wishes. However, when Dr. John H. Watson, recently returned from the war in Afghanistan, gets into his cab by "accident", it might not even need magic to grant both men their deepest wish: love.

The Red Dianthus by kinklock (T, 11,382 w., 3 Ch. || Supernatural Elements, BAMF!John, Misunderstandings, Fluff, Romance, Halloween, Dev. Rel., Case Fic) – The boys investigate a mysterious disappearance in a supposedly haunted house, and get much more than they bargained for.

The River Variations by withoutawish (T, 11,619 w., 1 Ch. || Soulmates, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Three Garridebs, Romance, Light Case Fic, Near Death Experience, Angst and Fluff, Dark Humour) – John Watson never knew that he wanted a ‘no toast in the mornings’ normal until he realized what an honor it is to be destroyed by Sherlock Holmes.

Johnlock Ficlet Collection by Irrevocably_Sherlocked (E, 11,505+ w., 16/? Ch. || WiP || Random Ficlets, Pining, Angst, Fluff & Smut, Parentlock, AU’s, First Kiss, Character POV’s) - Just a collection of Johnlock ficlets, originally posted on my Tumblr page.

I See You Through by belovedmuerto (T, 12,078 w., 8 Ch. || Psychic AU || Empath John, Alternate TGG, Whump, Nightmares, Bed Sharing, Slow Burn, Pre-Slash) – John has never asked Sherlock about his past, his childhood, the reason he quails in lonely misery almost every time he sees his brother. He’s never needed to. Part 2 of An Experiment in Empathy

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

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

On The Fence by BeautifulFiction (T, 13,770 w., 1 Ch. || Fencing, Case Fic, First Kiss, Insecure John, Pining John, Hug, Greg Finds Out) – The murder of the King's College fencing champion leads to revelations about Sherlock's past. Will it be the point that tips them from friends to lovers, or will they remain on the fence?

Speaker for the Bees by antietamfalls (M, 14,649 w., 3 Ch. || Deaf Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Fluff, Sign Language) – It isn't always easy assisting a deaf detective. Luckily for John, they make a pretty good team.

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

Lacuna by coloredink (E, 15,607 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Consent Issues, Drama, Amnesia) – God, it must have been terrible, to think that he would never have this again.

A Hundred Thousand Ways to Say the Name John by Jberry (E, 16,825 w., 1 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Fake Marriage, POV John, Pining John, Cruise Ship, Angst & Fluff, Case Fic) –  John Watson and Sherlock Holmes must solve a case on a cruise ship. To get close to the crew and passengers, they must get married for the case on the Baetica. However, their relationship hits rocky seas both due to the case and internal conflicts. Part 1 of Baetica

Best of Three by SilentAuror (E, 17,473 w., 1 Ch. || POV John, John is Shot, Porn with Feels, Post HLV, Rimming, Denial, Anal) – “You want to have sex with me,” Sherlock announces one evening about a year after John's divorce. John's vigorous denial sparks a three-day wager wherein Sherlock is determined to prove his point, and John is determined to hold onto his heterosexuality. Set well after HLV. (Canon-compliant). PORN. With feels.

Rupert Street by WritingOutLoud (M, 27,262 w., 9 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting || Case Fic, Sexuality, Demisexual Sherlock, Drugging, Smart John, Sherlock Has Internalized Biphobia, Fluff, Angst with Happy Ending, Gay Bar, Flirting, John Manipulates Sherlock to Eat, John Deduces, Arguments, Kidnapping/Torture, Hospitalization, John Whump) – Discharged from the war with nothing but the clothes on his back and a realisation of his bisexuality, John Watson has to learn who he’s become. He can’t afford London on an army pension, but the city is the only friend he has. In an effort to understand his newfound queer identity, he heads to a bar one night, where he stumbles across a mysterious stranger who turns his life upside down. ‘I dug around inside myself, and I'm not quite sure what I found, but it was beautiful and terrifying all at the same time.’

Vena Cava by SilentAuror (E, 27,452 w., 1 Ch. || HLV Fix-It, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Infidelity) – Sherlock has been shot in the chest; John has been shot in the heart. Though everything is broken, they do their best to heal the wounds that Mary left on them both.

Silhouettes by allonsys_girl (E, 28,585 w., 7 Ch. || Canon Compliant, POV John, Heavy Drinking, Sad/Depressed John, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Reunion, Foot Jobs, Blow Jobs, Infidelity, Cheating, Drug Use/Abuse, Anal, Switchlock, Rimming, Parentlock) – Sherlock and John find comfort in each other's arms, but as ever with these two, it's not your typical relationship. It's fluffy at the beginning, gets deeply angsty in the middle, gets porny at the end.

"finally kiss the bloody idiot" by Salambo06 (E, 29,812 w., 13 Ch. || Mutual Pining, Fake Relationship, First Kiss / Time, Angst, Misunderstandings, Fantasies, POV John) – Inspired by a fic idea on tumblr : "John and Sherlock know the Yard has a pool going for when they’re finally going to get together. It’s been running forever, and it’s worth thousands of pounds. It’s all fun and games, hahaha, until they find out Lestrade is in dire financial straits (dog needs emergency surgery, he’s putting his kid through gymnastics training, I don’t know, something), and they decide to fake a relationship to win the pool for him. Sherlock figures out the day and way that Lestrade thinks it’s going to happen, and they act it out. It’s all for a good cause, fake relationship style, until it’s not." Part 1 of The Pool

Lucifer's Gardens by ampersand_ch (E, 32,679 w., 12 Ch. || GERMAN VERSION|| Romance, Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Murder, Poison / Drugging, Mystery, John Undercover, Academic Club, Therapy, Rituals, Jungian Archetypes, Doctors & Physicians, Grief/Mourning, Esotericism, Hospitals, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, John Falls In Love With Another Man, Jealous Sherlock, Crying, Doctor John, Hand Holding, First Kiss/Time, Mysticism, Hugging, Touching) – John goes undercover for an investigation as a favour to Lestrade in a village in Suffolk. The events surrounding the case awaken deep-seated fears in Sherlock. While John begins to come to a realisation of what he needs in Lucifer's Gardens, Sherlock tries to find a way to reach John – in more ways than one.

The Whore of Babylon Was a Perfectly Nice Girl by out_there (E, 32,897 w., 1 Ch. || Past Drug Use, Blowjobs, Toplock, Mentions of Switching, Rough Sex, Background Cases, Sherlock’s Past, Sherlock’s Sexual History, Experienced Sherlock, Past One Night Stands, Fingering, Cuddling, Possessive Sherlock, Paris Holiday, Bed Sharing, Naked Lie-Ins, Bathing Together, Confessions, Worried Sherlock, Laying in Bed All Day, Meddling Mycroft, Naked Lazy Day) – Sherlock walks into a room and takes all the space right out of it. He does the same inside John's head.

The Curious Adventure of the Drs. Watson by ShinySherlock (M, 40,883 w., 14 Ch. || BBC & ACD Fusion || Victorianlock, Time Travel / Magical Realism, Friends to Lovers, Love and Kissing, Romance, Body Swap) – What if ACD Watson and BBC Watson switched places...  “Imposter!” Hands clenching the lapels of John’s coat, Holmes shoved him anew. “Yes!” John agreed, nodding, and then grimacing. “Sort of!”

Guidelines by WithLoweredVoices (M, 43,018 w., 15 Ch. || Winglock || Angels, Fantasy, Angst, BAMF! John, War, Jealous Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Jealous John, Falling in Various Ways, Needy Sherlock, Wings) – The Good Soldier, one of the oldest and strongest of the fallen, is offered a bargain: to live as John Watson and to Guide a fledgling archangel so that he will stay on the path of good. Of course, Sherlock Holmes has different ideas about his destiny. Fantasy AU. Warnings for violence, occasional gore, and a whole load of hurt and angst.

Left by lifeonmars (M, 45,153 w., 9 Ch. || Magical Realism, BAMF!John, Slow Burn) – John Watson is left-handed. He’s tried not to let it affect his life, but as any Lefty knows, that’s almost impossible.

Inscrutable to the Last by DiscordantWords (M, 48,842 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TRF, Alternate S3, John’s Blog/S3 is a Story By John, Divorce, Marital Difficulties, John is a Mess, Emotional Reunion, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Grief / Mourning, Pining John, First Kiss, Adorably Clueless Sherlock, Nostalgia, Love Confessions, Eventual Happy Ending) – He wasn't Sherlock, he couldn't work miracles. All he'd ever been able to do was write about them.

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

Fan Mail by scullyseviltwin (E, 53,942 w., 15 Ch. || Stalking, Obsessive Fans, Angst) – “WatsonChick143 has been rather maniacal in her commenting as of late… she’s left comments on everything you’ve posted John, something so obvious can’t have escaped even your attention."

Never Change a Running System by Lorelei_Lee (E, 54,246 w. || Pre-TRF, Romance, Humour, Drama, Sex Toys, Anal, Rimming, Masturbation, Frottage, Blow Jobs, Public Sex, First Kiss / Time, Virgin Sherlock / Loss of Virginity, Accidental Voyeurism, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Experiments, Naive Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Straight With an Exception John, Hand Jobs) – Sherlock discovers his sexuality – with far-reaching consequences for John.

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

You Might Just as Well Be Blind by ArwaMachine (E, 56,625 w., 12 Ch. || Fake Relationship, For a Case, Bed Sharing, Platonic Cuddling, Jealous Sherlock, Oblivious John, BAMF Hudders, Fluff and Angst, Frottage, Anal Sex, Happy Ending, Case Fic, Flirting, Pining John, POV John, Toplock, Possessive Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Infidelity) – When a serial killer starts targeting couples, Sherlock and John must do what they have to do in order to get to the bottom of things. Unfortunately, John already has a girlfriend. Surely pretending to be in a relationship with Sherlock won't pose any problems with his relationship, will it?

Lunar Landscapes by J_Baillier (M, 57,046 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || S3/TAB Fix-It, Slow Burn Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Confessions, Drugs, Pain, Medical, Injury, Sherlock Whump, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Romance, Secrets,  Tragedy, Trauma, BAMF John, Doctor!John, Drug Addict Sherlock, Injured Sherlock, Grieving John, Idiots In Love, Protective John, POV John Watson, PTSD Sherlock, Sherlock is a Mess, Medical Realism) – An accident forces John to face the fact that Sherlock's downward spiral had started long before his flight to exile even left the tarmac.

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

White Knight by DiscordantWords (M, 69,840 w., 13 Ch. || S4 Compliant/Post S4, Marriage For a Case, Jealous John, Pining John, Janine / Sherlock Fake Relationship, Serial Killers, Case Fic, Undercover as a Couple, Weddings, John is a Mess, Misunderstandings, Wedding Planning, Jealousy, Drunkenness, Love Confessions, Angst with Happy Ending) – Green. The word green was used to convey a great many things. Illness. Envy. Inexperience. Standing there amidst Janine's chattering bridesmaids, watching Sherlock furrow his brow and study fabric swatches, watching him smile and simper and flirt, John thought it a remarkably apt colour choice. Because he felt quite sick to his stomach, he feared the source of said sickness might very well be jealousy, and he had absolutely no idea at all what to do about it. Or: Sherlock needs to fake a relationship for a case. He doesn't ask John.

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

A Cure For Boredom by emmagrant01 (E, 81,665 w., 8 Ch. || Dirty Talk, Threesomes, Light Dom/Sub, Sex Club, Experiments, Anal, Mildly Dubious Consent, Rimming, Cheeking, Double Penetration, Mild Kink, Porn Watching, Voyeurism, Masturbation) – They’d never talked about sex in the year they’d known each other. Well, that wasn’t quite correct: Sherlock had never said a word about sex; John had bemoaned his personal dearth of it on many occasions.

A Case of Identity by jkay1980 (T, 91,009 w., 22 Ch. || Post-TRF, Fake Relationship, Case Fic) – John and Sherlock have succeeded in rebuilding their friendship after Sherlock’s fake suicide, but an unusual case puts their relationship to the test. They pretend to be engaged and attend a marriage counseling workshop. Under the pretext of the case, Sherlock turns out to be a master of seduction, and John finally learns he might like Sherlock more than he thought. Slowly, John discovers that he loves Sherlock not only in a friendly, brotherly way, but both men have to fight their own demons before they can think of taking their relationship to a new level…

The Cost of a Wish by slashscribe (E, 102,493 w., 12 Ch. || xxxHolic Fusion || Spirits / Ghosts and Magic, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Soul Mates / Fated Lovers, Adventure, Immortal Sherlock, Powerful John, POV John, Frottage, Wish Granting, Angst with Happy Ending, Nightmares) – John has been plagued by a secret his entire life that has made him feel hopeless until he meets a mysterious, seemingly omniscient man named Sherlock Holmes who owns a wish-granting shop. Their meeting sets off a series of inevitable events that will change the course of both of their lives forever.

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

A Study in Winning by Jupiter_Ash (E, 106,658 w., 11 Ch. || Tennis AU || John POV, Dirty Talk, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Happy Ending, Sherlock Speaks French, Switchlock, Wimbledon) – John and Sherlock are professional tennis players and it’s Wimbledon. One is a broken almost was at the end of his career, the other an arrogant rising star tipped for greatness. It should have been a straightforward tournament. It really should have been. How were they to know that a chance encounter would change everything? Part 1 of Tennis

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

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

The Horse and his Doctor by khorazir (T, 129,003 w., 13 Ch. || Horse / Vet AU || Magical Realism, Horses, Vet John, Horse Sherlock, Implied Alcoholism) – Invalided after a run in with a poacher in Siberia, veterinary surgeon John Watson finds it difficult to acclimatize to the mundanity of London life. Things change when a friend invites him along to a local animal shelter and he meets their latest acquisition, a trouble-making Frisian with the strangest eyes and even stranger quirks John has ever encountered in a horse.

A Fold in the Universe by darkest_bird (E, 152,869 w., 26 Ch. || Omegaverse / Prime Universe Crossover || OmegaJohn / AlphaSherlock, First Kiss / Time, Friends to Lovers, Established Relationship, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Dubious Consent, Humour) – Alpha Sherlock and Omega John are in a relationship. Prime Sherlock and Prime John are not. So what happens when a freak fold in the universe switches one John for the other?

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

[crepesuzette2023]

For John's Birthday: some of my favorite John POV fics

Drop Chute (bookofapril). "The last stall on the end had an “out of service” sign on it: he darted in, locked the door, and sat down on the lid of the toilet. Thank god it was clean. He put his glasses in his pocket. Then he drew up his legs and rested his head on his knees, the cool embroidered satin of his trousers a balm on his forehead, safely hidden from sight." (1967, John vs. Robert F.)

I Think of Things We Did (J_Deandra_j). "He sucked Paul’s dumb, lovely fat lips, licked his teeth, tasted the drumbeat of Paul’s heart in the stubble threatening to erupt beneath his jaw, and his soul awoke like a sad bitch at the shudder of Paul’s skin under his tongue." (Obertauern)

at midnight (anonymous). "The first time John lets another man press against him, it feels like dying." (Long brilliant character study)

Sunday Driver (@boshemians). "Tara Browne is the kind of pretty boy who wouldn’t bat an eye at being called one. Proud of it, even, and not shy of an excuse to do just that—bat his eyes, or eyelashes really, at anyone. Men, women, dogs. It annoys John when Paul does it but it annoys him even more in Tara because of the money thing, the always having had it, so that he is not so much coy as simpering." (65/66, John v. Tara B.)

February in New Orleans (@eveepe). “Kiss it,” said May, from where she was tucked in beside Linda. “Go on, he likes that.”—“Do what she says, baby.” Linda leaned over to slide her hand into Paul’s hair and guide his head gently towards John. (John and May visit Paul and Linda in 1975)

deeper than oceans you run (@orphanbeat). "Rich kisses him slowly, purposefully, as he does them all. John thinks he probably likes Rich’s kisses the best, then realizes that they all must do." (Beatles OT4, Greek Island AU)

Our Version of Events (@javelinbk). "There are also some stories that have just tilted the world’s axis slightly, asking questions like if Brian hadn’t found them, would they still be famous? The answer, according to that writer, was no, which John felt gave Brian far too much credit and Paul’s bullheadedness too little." (John discovers fan fiction in 1971)

non nobis solum (downtothelastdrop). “I think it’s cute,” Helen says again. “The way he looks at you. He likes to push back, doesn’t he, but I bet when you get down to it he’d do anything you asked.” (John's fascination with Paul in school uniform)

Bermuda (@scurator). "Today he felt that life really might begin at forty, if a bloke could just admit certain predilections to himself." (1980 as it should have been)

The McCartney Issue (@pauls1967moustache). "It’s only because it’s Perfect Beatle Paul with a dildo up his ass that anyone cares at all." (John Lennon's purely artistic appreciation of Linda McCartney's Playboy spread of her husband)

dreaming of the past (@revollver). "Meanwhile, the real Paul, sweet boyish features and Beatle-cut grown a touch too long, can be seen on the coffee table, inspecting the cupcake wrappers on George’s plate. All John gets is a brief look: soft curve of a furred thigh as Paul darts behind the paper cups. Graceful calf and perfect, miniature foot. Tantalising glimpse of one arse cheek." (1969 John imagines Tiny Paul to distract himelf from the present–with delightful consequences)

ageless children, animal sweat (eyeball2eyeball): "Looks like Pete’s got his night lined up, eh?” He looks back to John and rests his chin on his palm and smiles, this small secretive thing, and John can’t help but be convinced that Paul knows what he’s thinking somehow — dangerous, that. “What about you?” (Hamburg)

[the-karma-cafe]

My Kingdom for a Dance | Arthur Morgan

a/n: excerpt from a way longer work in progress i was working on many months ago, and haven't had the time to work on more. better to get something out now than nothing out ever, right ? - also will probmaybe post this on ao3 under same user

Arthur hummed, either not believing me or just not caring, and his eyes skipped down my form to the bottle clutched in my hand. His eyes widened a fraction, and he laughed, “You’re not messin’ around, little lady!”

I took another sip, trying to act nonchalant (never before had I fought a cringe so hard). “This is nothin’.” I shrugged.

Something sparkled in his eyes at that. “Oh yeah?” he laughed, and cocked his head over towards the other table. “You wanna put yer money where yer mouth is, sweetheart?” His hands rested heavy on his belt as he looked down at me.

I balked (and attempted to ignore the small flutter my heart made) at that. My eyes dragged over to the other table where Micah was pouring shots with Bill and John. I hadn’t meant for it to sound like a challenge.

Well. I couldn’t very well back down now, could I? Not when he was looking at me like that, calling me that.

I swallowed back my nerves and strolled over to the table like it didn’t matter. He snickered behind me, following.

“Thirsty, sugar pie?” Micah sneered up at me as I plopped down next to John.

“Parched,” I retorted, grabbing one of the shots from his spot across the table. Arthur settled down next to him, across from John, Bill, and I, and grabbed one of his own.

“One… two…” Bill began to count, but Micah threw his back before the other man finished. Irritated at not being followed, Bill scoffed and awkwardly cut himself off, throwing his back as well. John, Arthur, and I followed suit.

Or, well, John and Arthur did. Half the moonshine made it down my throat before I gagged and spit the rest back in the cup. Micah barked a laugh at me. “Bet you’d do better with somethin’ else in yer mouth, huh, girlie?” John laughed along with him.

My cheeks burned, if not for the drink, then especially for that. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” I bit back, stuffing down my embarrassment.

“Well,” he curled up his lip, “if the lady is offering…” He leaned back to gesture towards his lap.

I opened my mouth before I knew what I wanted to say, but thankfully was cut off. “You’re a real charmer, ain’tcha?” Arthur drawled. I glanced over at him, seeing that his cheerful expression from earlier had soured.

Micah shrugged and pushed up and away from the table. “Just the merry dance of the sexes,” he raised his hands in mock-defense. Bill pushed up to follow after him. Micah waved at me, his eyes narrowed and his grin wide. I looked back to Arthur.

“Creep.” Arthur muttered, his eyes not leaving the table.

My heart warmed a little. Arthur often defended the other women of camp from Micah’s comments, but I���d never had that kindness extended to me before now. It was sweet, his protectiveness. His gaze shifted across the table to my drink. He cracked a smile, “You gonna finish that?”

I snorted, pulling the cup towards me. “This is probably half-spit, you don’t want it.” I brought it back up to my nose, trying not to cringe at the smell. I held it away from me again. “How the hell d’you guys do this?”

John chuckled beside me. “Just don’t think about it, I guess.”

I nodded and took his advice, trying to throw the alcohol over my tongue to choke it back. I wasn’t sure what the percentage was on moonshine, but I was sure it didn’t matter at this point, my head now well-fuzzed. Arthur’s eyes were trained on me, a small smile on his lips. “You really are all talk.”

I rolled my eyes, biting back a smile of my own. “Whatever.”

Arthur and John took a couple more shots, getting sloppier by the minute. John was friendly next to me, slinging his arm around my shoulder and talking too loudly in my ear. It was nice, though, hanging out with the two of them. Strange, but nice.

ARTHUR POV

He watched John say something else to her, but he wasn’t sure what, nor did he really care. His gaze was shadowed under his hat, staring across the table at them. John laughed, pulling (Y/N) closer as he rocked to the side. She smiled back at him, her cheeks ruddy. Arthur forced a laugh of his own, though he wasn’t sure why he bothered.

She looked nice.

He didn’t want to think about it, but with her right in front of him like this, it made things hard. He had tried all day not to think about that morning: waking up to the rest of the camp asleep, going to get coffee, getting distracted by the way the pale sun shone down on her hair, the sweet way she had her blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

He had found himself sketching it later, while waiting for Trelawney with Javier and Charles. He remembered closing his journal a little too quickly when he realized Trelawney had walked up and stood behind him to announce himself.

And she had washed his jacket. It was the slightest bit damp, but he kept it on anyway, even after he rode off. She pulled it out from under that blanket, bunched up by her side, and handed it to him. He wondered briefly how it would look on her一if she’d look as sweet in his jacket as she had with her blanket; if she’d grow to prefer it more.

He threw back another drink, seeking to quiet his thoughts. It didn’t matter, anyway.

John scowled at something (Y/N) said, and got up, stumbling off somewhere else. She turned those eyes of hers on Arthur. He fought the urge to look away, holding her gaze. “What’s his problem?” he asked.

“Told him to go see the missus,” she smiled, taking a sip of her beer. He forced himself to look away from the unfair way her lips looked pressed against it.

“Ah,” he hummed in understanding, raising his cup in acknowledgement. “Smart idea, gettin’ him to do it while he’s drunk.”

She laughed and shook her head. “I’m not so sure about that.”

Dutch’s gramophone clicked to life, playing some fun, but calm, instrumental. Arthur glanced over, watching Dutch turn away from the machine and hold his hands out to Miss O’Shea, who happily stepped into his embrace. They swayed together to the music, her high laughter floating over the noise.

“That’s sweet,” (Y/N) whispered from across the table, just loud enough for him to hear. He looked back to her, watching her watch them, a soft expression on her face.

The sun was almost completely hidden behind the mountains now, the last valiant orange fading from the sky. Light from the nearby oil lamps and campfire took its place, most of her face shadowed despite their efforts. It played on the apple of her cheek, the bridge of her nose, the reflection in her eyes. His fingers itched for his journal again.

“D’you wanna dance?”

She blinked in surprise, and looked over at him. That was strange, though, because he hadn’t said anything. He wondered who asked her, although he hoped she would say no to them, and stay with him instead. Her cheeks appeared to flush the slightest bit一or maybe he was just seeing things一and she shyly smiled.

“Sure, Arthur, I’d love to.”

Oh. He asked.

He felt a heat of his own creep up the back of his neck and ears, and hoped it didn’t show. He stood up abruptly from the table, and swayed a bit on his feet. She mirrored his movement, getting up and steadying herself.

He held out his hand, forcing the other behind his back awkwardly. “M’lady,” he joked.

She giggled and placed her hand in his. It was a bit roughened compared to the night before, but still soft. It likely wouldn’t stay this way for long, running with them.

He tugged gently (or he tried to, at least), pulling her closer. She made a small noise of surprise and stumbled over to him, placing her other hand between them before they collided. It rested heavy on his chest, more an indicator of her drunken state than anything else. Warmth spread from her to him, and he wondered if he was giving any back.

Arthur brought up his hand to rest clumsily at her hip, unsure where exactly to place it. Why had he asked her to do this, again? He was clearly just going to embarrass himself.

Wherever he had settled it, though, she seemed content with, and she smoothed her hand up from his chest to rest on his shoulder. The line of contact seared like fire over him, and he made some noise in his throat. He hoped she hadn’t heard.

With their other hands clasped together, they swayed gracelessly, but he didn’t mind, and she didn’t seem to neither, a broad smile stretching her face. Her rings felt cool pressed against the heat of his palm. She kept laughing every now and then, stepping on his toes or knocking their knees together. He couldn’t find it in him to care.

He attempted a twirl at some point, but halfway through she fell backwards, losing her balance. He reached out and caught her, selfishly letting her head and back fall against his chest. “Y’alrigh’?” he slurred.

She tilted her head back, her face upside down, looking up at him with a sly grin. The campfire light caught her chest and jaw. “Better now in these big arms o’ yours, cowboy.” She winked, a stupid grin on her face.

He almost dropped her out of surprise. He stiffened, forcing out an awkward laugh that he hoped sounded casual.

This was ridiculous, he wasn’t some blushing schoolgirl. She was just teasing. He willed his taut muscles to relax.

“‘S that right?” he brought his arms around her to cage her in, linking his hands together by the front of her hips一two can play at this game, Miss (L/N). He leaned his head down by her face. “How ‘bout now?” he cooed.

The grin dropped from her face, her eyes wide as she looked up at him, an embarrassed flush painting her cheeks. Damn, he hadn’t meant to come off like Micah.

His grip loosened, nervous now. (Y/N) wasn’t nearly as close with him as the other girls were, and he inwardly cursed himself for getting familiar with her like this. If only Mary-Beth or someone else had been nearby when he’d asked to dance一he could’ve pretended like he’d been asking them. Shit, he would’ve danced with John if he had to.

“I’m probably about perfect, now,” she recovered, her laugh ringing up towards him like a bell. She moved her head back to face forward, snuggling back against his chest.

He exhaled, a stupid grin overtaking his face. He began to rock them side-to-side, listening to the campfire song that had sprung up between Bill and Karen, the latter perched on a certain Irishman’s lap. Arthur hummed along under his breath, resting his chin on her head. Her hair was soft, still, just like the first time. This was nice. She was nice.

He wasn’t sure when his eyes had drifted closed, but (Y/N) made no attempt to leave his bear hug, and he found himself thankful for it. He felt his throat still rumbling with song, but wasn’t sure if he was humming anymore or actually singing.

“You don’t mind if I take over from here, do you, Arthur?” an amused voice whispered beside him. He cracked his eyes open, dragging his chin across her head to look at Hosea. The man was staring at him with a sort of fond pity, and he didn’t like it. He wasn’t a child. (Y/N) moved out from his embrace and he stepped back, keeping his hands up to steady her if he needed to.

She swayed, but Hosea caught her arm, throwing it over his shoulder and stepping in front of her. “Oh, hello, Hosea,” she greeted politely, but glanced around in confusion. Hosea jutted his chin over to where Arthur stood behind her, and she craned her neck to look at him.

He felt awkward and big and out-of-place, now, all by himself. He flexed his hands by his side and gave her a tight smile.

“Thank you for dancing with me, Arthur,” she said sweetly, her gaze fixed on him. The red bloom of drink had held steadfastly to her cheeks, her eyes glinting in the light of the oil lamps.

He felt himself nod and grunt some sort of response before he turned on his heel and trudged off towards his tent. That was enough drinking for him.

~Journal updated.

On one side, a detailed sketch of a plant, the words “Indian Tobacco” scrawled next to it. On the other side, a sketch of (Y/N) in the morning, her blanket tightly wrapped around her shoulders. There are the beginnings of a focus on her hair, with a random sharp line dragged to the side, as if the artist was startled.

[belowdeckmaybank]

POV: it’s new years with the Pogues

. ݁₊ 𓆉 . ݁𓇼˖ . ݁

JJ: *raising his arm as he watches the clock* “And five..”

All: *Joins in on counting down with JJ* “Four.. three.. two.. one!”

JJ: *stands up and yells* “Happy new year everybody!”

All: *cheering*

Y/n: *stands up to grab JJ’s face and pulls him in for a kiss* “Happy new year, Jayj.”

JJ: *staring at you shocked when you lean away* “Happy new year to me! Get back in here.” *pulls you back in for another kiss*

John B: *yelling* “Whoo! Get it JJ!”

Pope and Kie: *yelling* “Get a room!”

Y/n: *laughing within the kiss* “Maybe we should get a room?”

JJ: *nodding* “Oh hell. Yes. This year is about to be my best year ever.”

. ݁₊ 𓆉 . ݁𓇼˖ . ݁

Prompt: “Happy New Year to me!”

[cursed-byesexual]

I'm such a sucker for fics from the pov of some NormalPerson™ who tries to understand what the actual fuck is going on with your fave. For example;

- Hermione's parents sort of got used to their daughter talking about dragons and curses and she makes it sound like its no big deal so they just go along with their strange kid. Except now there's a man at the door who says he's the minister of magic and he would like to personally invite you and your daughter to the first memorial of the final battle as she is a war hero of the highest order. What do you mean there was a war? Hermione, get down here this instant!

-Or a true crime podcast about the crimes of Sam and Dean Winchester through the eyes of someone who went to college with Sam. He hosts podcast nights and everytime one of Sams alleged kills is described he tells the friends who are listening with them about that time Sam went vegetarian for a month after watching a nature channel docu.

-Or Percy Jackson returns to a mortal high school after one of his adventures and one of his teachers has to try and decipher the transcripts from his old schools. How the fuck did this little skater boy blow up his last school? Why isn't he in prison??? Or dead??? The parent-teacher conference night that follows is one for the ages as Sally Jackson lies her ass off, but with skill.

-Or John Watson decides to go to a class reunion against better knowledge and Sherlock tags along to learn more about John out of boredom. His former classmates don't understand what the hell Sherlock Holmes is doing at their party if there hasn't been a murder and absolutely come to the conclusion that the two are together. They have to be, right?

Basically anything that puts these unhinged adventures and relationships into perspective I guess, sorry if these don't make sense,,, tag me if you know any fics of this sort! For any fandom! Or comment you own hc!!!

[lulublack90]

Prompt 18 - Bed Sharing

@wolfstarmicrofic May 18, word count 757

Second part of Prompt 10 - Only One Bed/Room

He hadn’t known Sirius had tattoos. Oh gods, how was he going to survive two nights in the same bed as him? He’d been rude and he knew it. Too many drinks and his tongue had become venomous.

By the time he’d calmed himself, Sirius had fallen asleep. His soft snores filled the quiet room. He slipped under the covers and laid back into his pillow. Damn that bed was comfy. It took him minutes to fall asleep. 

He dreamed of Sirius and his bare chest and what he wanted to do to Sirius and his bare chest. He was unceremoniously pulled from his happy dreams when Sirius tried to move away from him. He’d opened his eyes and found himself much too close to Sirius. Those icy blue eyes penetrated his own. He’d been dreaming about them all night, so he was a bit slow realising he was awake. 

“Sorry, I must have rolled in my sleep.” Sirius huffed a nervous laugh. That was when Remus realised their legs were tangled together and Sirius was practically on his chest. He also became aware of something else that had woken up. 

Afraid that Sirius might accidentally knock into it and be offended, Remus yanked his legs free and ran into the bathroom, locking it behind him.

He held his head in his hands. He took a cold shower and spotted his bag that he’d left in the bathroom last night. He got out the clothes he’d be wearing to the conference, put them on and unlocked the bathroom door. 

Sirius was lying on the bed, playing a game on his phone. He ignored Remus. Remus felt a pang of panic race through him. Had Sirius felt what was going on under the covers? Was he annoyed at Remus? Remus couldn’t take it, and grabbing his wallet, laptop and phone, he left the room to find breakfast. 

The conference hadn’t been that bad. He’d made notes on a few things that could be implemented immediately at the company and a few that could slowly be rolled out. All in all, the trip had been worth it in Remus’s opinion. He didn’t know what Sirius had written down, but he’d been scribbling in a notebook all day. 

“I really fancy something greasy and disgusting,” Sirius said as they packed their things away. He rubbed his hand and made a little whimpering noise in the back of his throat. Remus nearly died. Sirius continued rubbing his hand, unaware of Remus’s distress. Remus assumed Sirius’s hand had cramped from all the writing he’d done that day. Remus wanted nothing more than to take Sirius’s hand and massage it for him. “So what do you think? You okay with that?” Remus hadn’t heard a word Sirius had been saying. 

“Huh?” 

“Can we just order burgers or something to the room? I really don’t want to sit in a restaurant,” Sirius repeated. 

“Oh, yeah, sure, sounds good.” Remus panicked, he’d just agreed to spend even more time in that room with Sirius. He couldn’t wait until he was back in his own bed.

Sirius had made a good call. They ate their meals in comfortable silence while they watched fail videos on YouTube. 

Sirius started searching for his favourite videos to show Remus and Remus began to relax a bit. He showed Sirius some of the clips he found hilarious, and they ended up sitting back on the bed laughing at an old skit about fork handles. 

Sirius leant over the side of the bed and pulled out a cheap bottle of whisky. He shook it at Remus.

“Can I tempt you?” Remus felt his heart stutter and nodded. Sirius beamed at him and unscrewed the cap, taking a long swig before passing it to Remus. 

They drank far too much of the whisky. Sirius was rolling around on the bed giggling uncontrollably at Eddie Izzard’s Star Wars Cantina story played out with lego and Remus was goon grinning at him. 

“What are you grinning at?” Sirius slurred, pointing accusingly at Remus. 

“You,” Remus stuck his tongue out, Sirius pounced. Suddenly, Sirius was on him, his teeth carefully nipping Remus’s outstretched tongue. His drunken brain had to catch up with what had just happened, but once he did, he flipped Sirius onto the mattress and towered over him, before leaning closer and sloppily kissing him on his lips and slowly making his way to those tattoos. 

They woke up with banging headaches, with entangled limbs again. But this time Remus didn’t run away.

[cupidford]

When We Were Young by Calais_Reno

Johnlock Love Letters #2340

John and Sherlock met at school, and were a bit more than friends. But they didn't stay in touch afterwards. Life goes on, and when John returns from Afghanistan, he takes a position at Barts as a trauma specialist, working in the Emergency Department. As he reports for work one day, a man jumps off the roof of the hospital. John's world tilts on its axis.

**Inspired to get back into a few Johnlockloveletters today....how many years on is this?**

[a-mossy-amethyst]

So all I heard from episode 43 is that my jarthur fics aren't intimate and loving enough. I need to add more devotion

[lulu2992]

“Welcome.”

In exactly two years in the timeline of “that fic I’ll never write”, on August 29th, 2026, Taylor and John will welcome their first child, a daughter named Eleanor Hope Seed.

I picked this middle name because it felt right (I doubt I’m the only one who’s had this idea for a Seed baby and/or Far Cry 5 OC) and her first name was inspired by Eleanor Lamb from BioShock 2, the character who awakened my parental instincts.

Between 2026 and 2035, the couple will have a total of four children. In fact, until very recently (about a month and a half ago), I would have said three, but I decided to also include a last son, originally from a sort of New Dawn AU I had. It suddenly made me very sad that he didn’t exist in the “main” timeline, so I fixed that :)

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hiiii I love your fic list, but I was trying to find some fics where Sherlock is obsessed with John and trying not to let John notice, like that one where he keeps getting himself injured just so John will treat him. Have you got any in mind?

Oooo! First, the fic you mentioned, because I'm sure I know which one this is:

I'm Pretty Sure This Changes Shit by cwb (E, 7,672 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Cuddling, Doctor/Patient, Accidents, Pining Sherlock, Blow Jobs, Oral / Anal, BAMF John, Minor Injuries, Dev. Rel.) – Sherlock finds increasingly ridiculous ways to get John to patch him up after hurting himself.

And you'll also like this one also by CWB which is similar to your request

:Because Blah Blah Blah Happy by cwb (E, 4,578 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Cuddles, Kissing, First Kiss, Requited Love, Pining Sherlock) – John is entirely done with the milk situation and gives Sherlock a list of shit he's pissed about. Sherlock sets out to make John happy. John is happy. Sherlock makes his own list. They are both very, very happy.

Hmm, another one maybe could be this one:

The Kissing Disease by cottonballz_of_death (E, 30,856 w., 15 Ch. || Sick Fic, Angst with Happy Ending, Case Fic, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Jealous Sherlock, Body Image Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, POV Sherlock, Oral / Anal, Thong, Frottage) – John brings home a boyfriend, shocking Sherlock, who long ago gave up hope that his straight flatmate would ever take a romantic interest in him. In a bid to reconnect with John, he tries to infect himself with a "harmless" virus. Neither of them is prepared for the emotional fallout that results.

But I'll for sure have stuff you'll enjoy on these lists:

Jealous & Possessive Sherlock

Possessive Sherlock Pt 2

Possessive / Obsessive Sherlock Pt 3

Clueless / Oblivious John

And MAYBE more on these lists:

Pining Sherlock || [MOBILE FRIENDLY VERSION]

Pining Sherlock Pt. 2 (Under 5K)

Pining Sherlock Pt. 3 (5K+)

Jealous Sherlock Because John Dates a Man

Cockblocking Sherlock

If ANYONE has more fics to suggest similar to CWB's fics listed above please do add them!! It's been a long while since I've read them and I would love to make a new Oblivious John list, LOL.

[randommmthoughts]

I JUST POSTED MY FIRST FIC EVER ON AO3!!!

I would love it if you would want to give it a look <3

From Barrier to Comfort

Oneshot - 6,071 words

Including:

Remus with a silver allergy

Good friend Sirius

First year Wolfstar acting cute

Teasing James and Peter

Summary and tags under the cut!

Summary:

“I- uh. I didn’t mean to overstep, so please don’t take it that way.” Remus nodded, clearly confused. “Well, I- well I noticed avoiding silver must be kinda hard for you, seeming it is nearly everywhere you look.” Sirius fiddled with the wand in his hand, searching Remus’ eyes for a sign this was unwanted. But Remus mostly seemed curious. “So I though, what if there was a spell to protect you from it? Then I started searching, but it didn’t exist. Which is really dumb because you can’t be the only one who’s allergic to something touchable-” Sirius stopped rambling when he saw Remus’ face. His eyes were big as plates, his mouth a little open, cheeks pink.

Or

Sirius notices Remus keeps a noticeable distance between them, and when he finally discovers the cause, he’s determined to fix it. After all, what else are friends for?

Additional Tags: implied wolfstar, Hogwarts First Year, My First AO3 Post, Hurt/Comfort, Minor black family angst, Werewolf Remus Lupin, Good Friend Sirius Black, Caring Sirius Black, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Spell Creation (Harry Potter), Teasing, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), marauders found family, Silver Allergy, Young Marauders, Light Hurt/Comfort, POV Sirius Black, Remus Lupin Needs a Hug

[reds-skull]

Bringer of Demise - Chapter 1

[MAKAROV'S FATE COMIC] [AO3]

When I say I've been thinking about this ever since finishing part 1...

I'm very excited to start a new multi-chapter story, doubly so with revenant AU! I'm not sure how long this will be, but I have a feeling it will be longer than part 1 :)

For those that skipped the side-stories, some details in this chapter refer to them, they're not a must-read to understand, but I heavily encourage it! You're also welcome to read the comic, it shows Makarov and Fate's reactions to the events of part 1...

Now, before I start rambling again... Chapter 1: The Labyrinthine Design of Fate

He always had a sort of scorching at his chest. A never-ending flame, bugs beneath his skin. As if he was burning alive.

As if he never escaped his self-made grave.

Even now, he could feel it, little legs of burning moths climbing up and down his arms, an overwhelming sensation that hasn’t left him in six years-

Except… There, a hand slides over his. Cool, a running river between his fingers. A breath of the void in a world so loud.

Soap smiles. Simon.

“Finally awake, Johnny?”

He buries his face into the pillow, hiding his growing grin. The hand continues to hold his, and that’s all the reasons he needs to continue sleeping.

“Gonna be like that, hm?” the voice hums thoughtfully, “I went to a zoo last month. Wouldn’t recommend, all they had was some dog.”

Soap frowns. He isn’t going to…

“It was a shitzu.”

He groans. “Ye didn’t…” Soap cracks open an eye, staring unimpressed at Simon’s crinkling eyes.

Simon pulls at his hand, making him sit up, “should be honored you’re waking up to my wonderful jokes.” he lets go of him, turning back to his desk. Soap notices the half-filled reports covering it.

Even several weeks later, the 141 is practically sinking under the mountain of paperwork that dropped on them as soon as they returned to the UK.

Soap flops back onto the bed, “rather be sleepin’ than hearing that shite.” Simon doesn’t give him a response, his pen gliding once again on the paper. “Is this one above my clearance as well?”

“No. Just forms to apply for changes in our Revenant documents, again.”

“You’d think they’d figure it out by now…” he turns to stare at the ceiling, an odd feeling in his chest.

The day they met… Lumity, Soap was ecstatic. It was a proof of his and Simon’s eternal connection, breaking the final barrier between them, showing that even the Reapers themselves couldn’t keep them apart.

He’s still glad of that, mind. He would never ask to be separated from Simon. But…

But it’s not something they could hide. As much as Price and Laswell cover for them, to conceal the existence of a whole new Reaper was beyond them.

It’s that uncertainty that scares him. The higher-ups haven’t done anything with them yet, the whole taskforce grounded until the dust settles, but Soap is sure it won’t pass by quietly.

When it comes to him, nothing ever does, it seems.

He turns his head to stare at Simon again. The man he was fated to kill. The way he looks when they’re like this, hidden away from the world and the realms beyond it, when they’re just Johnny and Simon, never stops to mesmerize him. He thinks, if they were perhaps a little different, maybe this would’ve been permanent.

Then again, were they any different, they’d likely be dead by now.

The question ‘why did it choose me?’ is usually screamed in his mind when phantom blood covers his hands, when the answering thought is often ‘it shouldn’t have’. Soap asks himself again, but with curiosity.

How much does Fate know?

“You’re not sleeping again, are you?” Simon asks with a smile in his voice.

Soap gets up, stretching his back, “nothin’ else better to do, is there?”

“Could always help me with reports.”

He side-eyes Simon, “like I said, nothing better to do.”

Simon scoffs, and Soap opens his mouth to goad him to another round of bickering, when a sort of buzzing goes up his spine. Simon’s shuddering back tells him he felt it as well.

“Our Reapers-” Simon locks eyes with him, when the world melts away.

When Soap comes to, the realm is dark. Cold. Words he’d never use to describe his Reaper.

Speaking of… where are they?

“S-Simon?” Soap looks around, finding him a few paces away, his head tilted up. His brows furrow, and he follows his line of sight.

Soap stumbles back, his heart pounding, “what- Buanaiche…?”

Lumity hangs above them, their body twisted, features broken by dark red. Pulled in different directions by the strings, it is as if something was trying to rip each limb apart, as if to separate… Ladder-like patterns and moths weave around the trapped being, light itself bound by crimson lines.

“What happened to you, Reaper?” Simon whispers, fear evident in his voice.

“FATE…… The invader… IT DARED ENTER OUR REALM…”

“Fate did this to you?” Soap’s eyes follow the red strings, where they disappear in the dark fog of Lumity’s realm.

Lumity’s head twitches, and gleaming white light drips from their neck. Soap asks himself, absentmindedly, if Reapers can even feel pain.

“LISTEN CLOSELY REVENANTS… Fate is plotting against us… Against your allies…”

A deafening sound cracks through the still air, making both Soap and Simon clutch at their ears. One of the strings snaps, only to loop back around one of Lumity’s many arms.

“A man with two faces will approach you… He will be an agent of Fate… YOU MUSTN’T FOLLOW HIM.”

“B-Buanaiche…” Soap winces when Lumity lets out a sound no words in any human language can describe, “what is Fate doing to you?”

“I will not bow down to it… I WILL NEVER BOW DOWN TO IT… This is nothing but a show… A petty show…”

Simon pulls at his sleeve, and takes his left hand, squeezing it tightly.

“Be vigilant, revenants… Fate is not alone…

IT IS NOT ONLY US THAT GAZE UPON YOU NOW…”

Before Soap could take another breath, Lumity’s realm swirls, and the only thing left is that which holds his hand, shaking with the same terror as him.

They collapse to the floor, Soap’s breath hitching in his throat. Simon grunts, bringing a hand to his ear to check if it’s bleeding. He looks up at him, and shakes his head minutely.

“We…” Simon starts, swallowing thickly, “we need to find Price and Gaz.”

Soap nods, pushing himself up to stand on numb legs. His mind feels like it’s pulled apart like his Reapers, thoughts forming only to dissipate.

He follows Ghost out of his barracks, his steps loud and sure, even if his fists still tremble at his sides. The hallways are silent, most soldiers out training at these hours. Ghost directs them towards the fields now, where Gaz should be supervising recruits.

As they get closer, a few of them run into the building, their faces red with exertion and heads swiveling around. 

Soap spots Cooper, one of the FNGs he often trains, and calls out to him, “what’s going on with you lot? Why are ye not in drills?”

“Sergeant MacTavish! Lieutenant!” Cooper shouts, the words leaving his mouth in one hurried breath, “They- the revenants on base, they’re all-”

Another recruit butts in, “they all just stopped moving, they’re not reacting to anything!”

Ghost scoffs, pushing between the soldiers to get to the doors. The rookies snap their mouths shut, staring with wide eyes at them as they exit to the training grounds.

Soap didn’t want to believe them, hoping to dismiss their worry off when seeing it himself, but it was exactly as they said.

Most soldiers are moving, gathered around still figures. He can see Gaz from here, his face slack. The few other revenants on base, the majority of them belonging to the Reaper of Flesh, are as motionless as him. 

“They’re all…” Soap mutters.

Ghost’s eyes narrow, “in their Reaper’s realm.”

“Think Fate got them too?” Soap walks towards Gaz, Ghost right behind him.

The recruits surrounding Kyle part for them, Ghost glaring at the ones that tried to shake Gaz, “no, but it can’t be a coincidence.”

Gaz stares at the horizon unblinking. The sight unnerves Soap, even if he knows he looks exactly like that when his Reaper summons him. He can’t recall if he’s ever seen a revenant in this state.

A movement catches his attention, and Soap takes a step back when Gaz’s hands start twitching, his body floating a few inches off the ground, muscles taut. One soldier from the small crowd around them asks, “i-is that normal?”

A moment later, as if an invisible cable snapped, Gaz falls to the ground, knocking the hat off his head trying to dig his fingers into his scalp.

Soap instantly crouches in front of him, noticing in his periphery how the rest of the revenants come to as well, “Gaz? Ye alright?”

Ghost snatches his hand when he goes to place it on Gaz’s shivering shoulder, and addresses Kyle, “Garrick, give me sitrep.”

Gaz shakes his head, a few muted sobs escaping him. “My… My Reaper…” he heaves, “it told me to c-choose.”

“Choose?” Soap prompts him.

“Between Fate and Lumity. Between Makarov… and you.” Kyle finally looks up, his eyes red and tearful, pupil blown, “I chose you. I would never- but my Reaper…” his face contorts, “it was… furious, or not- I don’t know-” he lets out a frustrated huff, “all I know, it wasn’t happy with my choice.”

Ghost offers Gaz a hand, and helps him up. He then turns to the rest of the recruits and snarls, “what are you standing ‘ere for? Get the fuck out of my sight!”

Their little crowd disperses like a flock of birds. Soap picks up Gaz’s baseball cap, brushing the dirt off and handing it to him, “the Reaper of Pull never did like Destruction… You think that’s what the other revenants were asked?” he asks Ghost.

Ghost lets go of Kyle, making sure he can stand by himself, “... Price knows more about how Fate operates than anyone else on base.”

Price’s thoughts leak far before his office even comes into view. They’re nothing but a jumbled mess of images and emotions, and none of them make the rising dread within Soap lessen.

Gaz hasn’t stopped shaking, his steps heavier, like he’s pushing himself towards the earth in an attempt to stay steady. They haven’t spoken a word on the way here, Ghost’s eyes darting around tensely.

Soap himself can’t make heads or tails from this. That buzzing sensation under his skin, that usually forebodes his Reaper pulling him to its realm, hasn’t left. His fingers burn brighter, flames trailing far behind him as they walk.

Ghost doesn’t bother knocking, swinging the door to Price’s office wide open and ushering Soap and Gaz inside before locking it behind them.

Soap looks at their Captain for a few moments, his head in his hands.

“... Price?” Kyle is the first to break the silence. Price lets out a shuddering sigh, and looks up.

The Captain removes his hat, gripping it tightly until his knuckles turn white, “it asked you to choose, I presume?”

Gaz nods, “Mine did, yeah, but… I don’t know about Ghost and Soap-”

“No.” Price cuts him off, tone devoid of any emotion. “Lumity isn’t in a position to ask, are they?” he studies them with narrowed eyes.

Soap stares back, feeling Price’s mind prob at his, picking apart what he saw in Lumity’s realm, what they told them. The warnings, Fate’s strings wrapping around light like spiderwebs.

“I met Makarov once, over a decade ago.” Price explains as he retreats from Soap’s thoughts, “we didn’t know it was him, at the time. But he knew we were coming.”

“He showed me what his powers can do, a fraction of his Reaper’s. In all my years, I’ve never read a mind quite like his.”

“What did you see?” Soap can’t help but ask, fear warring with curiosity. Makarov is an enigma, one they only know one thing about.

The Revenant of Fate is always several steps ahead.

Price closes his eyes, hands coming up to message his head, “he showed me my own fate. Showed me people I haven’t even met yet, dead at my feet. We were lucky, according to my Reaper, until now. Fate didn’t have much interest in Humanity.”

Something dreadful seeps into his gut, and Price doesn’t open his mouth when the next words appear in their brains.

“Now, it saw something that caught its attention.”

“IT IS NOT ONLY US THAT GAZE UPON YOU NOW”

… What have they done…?

Price fills Gaz in, about Lumity’s warning. They speak among themselves in hushed voices, debating on who could possibly be a traitor, what can be done to weed them out. Talking aimlessly, as they don’t know enough about the situation to figure anything out yet. Anything is better than the suffocating silence, though.

Soap found himself staring at the grout lines of the tiled floor, thoughts such a jumbled mess even Price stirs clear from his mind. Ghost isn’t deterred, however, and has been a constant presence by his side. As he has been, for the last few months.

Soap thinks he would’ve had an easier time accepting this if he was the one destined to die. But Ghost? He’d never regret not killing him.

It angers him, to the point he has to keep his entire focus on minimizing his flames - who gave Fate the right to decide who he kills?

How much power does Fate hold? Is it the one that decided who becomes a revenant, and who doesn’t?

If Fate can capture a Reaper, there’s no limit to what it can do to them.

Cool fingers wrap around his left hand, white fire heedless of the scarred skin. Soap looks up at Ghost, humming a question.

“Remember our promise.” is all Ghost says, and somehow that’s all Soap needs to take a mental step back, and breathe in deeply.

Soap echoes his words from weeks ago now, spoken under the warm glow of a fancy restaurant, with the same hand in his.

“Together.”

They hear a throat clearing after a few minutes, Price motioning for them to sit next to his desk.

“Before… This happened, I was planning on notifying you of something.” Price starts, his eyes locked onto Ghost’s, “Laswell and the higher-ups consulted Doctor Novikov about Lumity, and have come into the conclusion you two need to redo your revenant tests.”

Ghost scoffs, leaning back in his chair to sneer, “what is he going to tell us that we don’t already know? He didn’t know a bloody thing about Void before it merged, doubt he has any new revelations he could share with us.”

The Captain sighs heavily, and Soap gets the feeling this isn’t the first time a conversation of this sort happens between these two, “it’s part of the protocol, Simon. Or at least as much protocol that can be salvaged in your case.”

Soap leans in to half-whisper in Gaz’s ear, “ye know this… Novikov? The fuck’s he a doctor fer?”

Gaz blinks at him for a second, before reeling back, “you- you don’t know Novikov??”

“No???” Soap frowns, turning around to see Ghost and Price stopped arguing. “How do ye know him?”

“He’s been the head Spiritulogist of the SAS for the last… what was it, ten years, Price?”

“Over a decade, been here since before I was Reaped.” Price says incredulously, “I know your file’s been redacted to hell and back son, but don’t tell me you never even been through your basic revenant testing?”

Soap shakes his head, “they never sent anyone to examine me… I assumed they didn’t need to check my limits, with…” the words die on his tongue, and Price redirects his thoughts before they can go down a dark path.

“I worked with Novikov for as long as I’ve been a revenant. He’s good at what he does.” the Captain says, ignoring Ghost’s growl.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never met a Spiritulogist, mate.” Gaz gently elbows him with a small grin.

Soap sneaks another glance at Ghost, noting his stormy eyes, before answering, “I did, never about my own powers. Don’t think any o’ them had clearance.”

Ghost murmurs, “saved you several headaches.”

“Well,” Price slaps his knees, getting up from his chair, “there’s always a first for everything. Novikov got cleared by Laswell, so I assume he has enough information to assess you. He’s due to arrive at any moment, let’s take it to the tarmac.”

They follow him out of the office, Ghost walking ahead, irritation practically fuming out of him. Whatever past this Novikov has with Simon, it can’t be good. Then again, Ghost seems to dislike him more based on his profession, than the man himself.

The tarmac isn’t as hectic as it usually is. Soap attributes that to the earlier revenant incident, he personally knows at least three technicians bearing the revenant status working here. There are some gruesome ways to die dealing with aircrafts, that’s for certain. He gets reminded that of the day Gaz told him the story about his Reaping.

Soap hated the blank stare he had back then, guilt a mirror image of his own. Felt an instant connection to him, and hypocritically wanted to tell him he has nothing to be guilty of. Well, maybe not so hypocritically. Gaz would never do what he did.

The helo carrying Novikov has already started descending by the time they arrive. Ghost is a menacing shadow at his side, anger not subsiding in the short walk to here. Soap had to stop himself from asking about it multiple times. He doesn’t think he’ll get more than a grunt from Ghost at this state.

Price approaches the helo as it lands, probably greeting Novikov with his powers. When the loading ramp lowers, Soap watches a short, plump man walk down to shake hands with the Captain.

The first thing Soap clocks in from the man is that he has never been in an active war zone. There’s a lack of awareness the Doctor emanates, his focus not straying from the person in front of him, despite being surrounded by several SAS soldiers, and one very disgruntled, skull-faced revenant.

Price eventually returned to them with Novikov and several other people Soap can only assume are his assistants. Ghost steps closer to him, practically gluing himself to Soap’s side. He leans in to nudge his arm, silently asking him to relax, if only for a moment.

“Lieutenant Ghost, Sergeant Garrick, it is good to see you.” Novikov greets, Gaz reaching to shake his hand. The Doctor offers it to Ghost as well, but all the masked man does is glare at him.

Novikov seems undeterred by the Lieutenant’s hostility, and turns to Soap, “Sergeant John MacTavish,” Soap finally places his accent as Russian, “I don’t believe we’ve been acquainted yet.”

Soap shakes his right hand in the air, momentarily extinguishing its flames, before shaking the Doctor’s hand, “we haven’t.”

Novikov’s grip tightens, and he lets go of Soap’s hand, “I will be honored to be the one to test your powers for the first time, Sergeant. It is not common for revenants to skip those, as you can imagine.”

There’s an almost bitter note to his last sentence. Soap doesn’t like that he feels like Novikov has been waiting for this opportunity for a long, long time.

The words of Lumity have been etched to his heart, burned a hole in his consciousness, began a downward spiral nothing, not even the memory of Ghost’s hand in his, can stop.

Soap watches the Doctor leave, not before a promise to test them first thing in the morning, tomorrow, and he wonders.

He wonders if this, too, is part of the labyrinthine design of Fate.

[sometimesijustfeellikescreaming]

Apparently, Boot Camp Doesn't Have Lessons in Subtlety

Rating: T - Word Count: 3.5k

Read on Ao3

SUMMARY:

Benny DeMarco doesn't get paid enough to sleep in the same barrack as the Bucks at the POW camp in the winter months once everyone has to start sharing bunks…

Buck and Bucky are sharing a bunk and let's just say they are not subtle about anything that is going on in that bed. If anyone was oblivious to the feelings going on between the two of them before, it's never been more obvious than now.

Benny DeMarco is pretty over it, but he'll also defend them to his dying breath. Oh, and he's taken to gossiping about them with John Brady.

OR

A companion fic to my 5+1 Clegan bedsharing fic In your arms (I think I might survive) giving a humorous outsider perspective from the men of the 100th and those sharing the barrack with Buck and Bucky.

Benny DeMarco does not get paid enough to put up with petty shit in life. Specifically, the Bucks. Specifically how not subtle they are about their obvious feelings for each other.

God, could they be more obvious?

It was obvious from the moment Bucky came walking in the gates asking if Buck made it. Sure, the two were best friends and that was a normal question, but anyone who has eyes could've seen the way Bucky's whole demeanor changed once he caught sight of his "best friend."

Best friends my ass.

Best something, though, that's for sure.

It's usually not horribly distracting or overt, though. They pass as friends most of the time unless Bucky is drunk, Benny supposes, or they're arguing in which case they act like a goddamn married couple. They fly under the radar pretty easily at the prisoner-of-war camp for that reason. No danger, really. The Nazis would have their heads for any kind of association. Everyone knows how the Germans feel about that sort of thing. It's not spoken about. Hell, most people everywhere don't look too kindly on it, but DeMarco's not the kind of man who thinks somebody should be murdered because of the way they're living their life. It's not like some happiness in another person is worthy of the death sentence. That's just madness. And Buck and Bucky are some of DeMarco's best friends, he could never feel hatred toward them.

Annoyance? So much. And in increasing amounts...

See, they were fine until it got cold at night then Benny is certain everyone in the whole of their Barracks became painfully aware of the fact that they were painfully in love with each other because — goddamn it — they were sleeping in the same bunk and if it wasn’t obvious before that the two were hopelessly smitten with each other, well, after that it certainly was.

For one thing, Buck Cleven has the worst case of puppy dog eyes that Benny has ever seen. He’s had it bad for a while now (since before Benny went down and was still back at base) with his little soft smiles that he thinks he hides so well and mostly (mostly!) only gives Bucky when he’s not looking — but everyone else is.

LORD give him strength.

And then there’s Bucky.

That man antagonizes the fuck out of Buck at any given chance and Benny doesn’t even think he realizes it. And the worst thing is they both seem to like it. It’s the strangest thing and Benny is sure that this is their way of flirting.

Which is entirely infuriating because it’s the most annoying thing in the universe to be around.

Bucky’s antics only increase once they start sharing a bunk, and Benny’s not sure if it has more to do with his close proximity to Buck or his general cabin fever due to the German winter at the Stalag. Whatever the cause, Bucky is incorrigible, and his behavior at times is nigh impossible to deal with. Though, Benny has to admit, the moments of levity do bring several of the other men out of their low moments more often than not, himself included, so he can’t fault Bucky too much for his attitude. Even when he pisses Benny off, he is a light in the dark camp.

Still makes Benny want to punch him in the face half the time, but in a brotherly way.

And if the two of them are bad during the daytime, that’s nothing compared to how transparent they are when they’re actually snuggled together at night.

Now, Benny’s not an idiot. It’s winter. Even he is sharing a bunk. It’s cold as fuck outside and even he understands the necessity to shove aside pride and get in close quarters with a buddy for the foreseeable future. But, the Bucks have taken this situation and turned it into a nightly slumber party.

After the lights turn out they stay up whispering and giggling with each other like a couple of school girls. He’s convinced if their hair grew out long enough while they were here in the camp, the two of them would spend the nights braiding each other’s.

It’s not like Benny is especially complaining that they’re talking. They’re not that loud; he can’t even tell what they’re saying and he’s not sure anyone could even those in the bunks closest to them (though, the men in the bunks above and below them soon found themselves migrating away due to the way the Bucks consistently stayed up talking at night— nobody wanted to be in their bubble. They were a whole world unto themselves. Again— not subtle). So, it’s not the volume that bothers Benny about their conversations at night. It’s not even really that he’s bothered. It’s just that, really? It’s every night. And maybe Benny can admit to being just a little jealous because it’s not like he has a best friend here. Or anyone to talk to. Not that he would really want someone so important to him to be experiencing the Stalag alongside him, but it’s significant that in a place like this, the Bucks have each other. They seem to be holding together better individually because they have one another.

It pisses Benny off as much as anything else does. It’s not rational, but it makes their voices carrying across the room at night irritate him. He tries not to let it get to him because it’s not fair that them having a sliver of happiness should make him feel that way, but he’s just a man.

He starts to get over it when he starts gossiping with John Brady who is in another barrack, but also from the 100th and knows as well as he does what it is to know the Bucks.

“Brady, you have no idea— Bucky has it so bad. Yesterday we were all sitting around shootin’ the shit after lunch and— I swear to god— Buck gave him this look like he was being an idiot — because he was — and Bucky just leaned in real close to him like none of the rest of us were even there, face almost touching, no sense of personal space whatsoever—“

“Well, hey, it’s not like Bucky’s ever been good at personal space with his buddies much anyway—"

“Yeah, but usually he’s drunk. But listen to this next bit. Bucky leans in real close to Buck, fully sober, grinning like an idiot, and says ‘I could show you a thing or two.’” Benny lets it hang in the air, waiting for Brady’s response. He has his hands splayed in a well? gesture. Brady’s eyebrows fly up and he leans toward Benny in interest.

“You were all talking about baseball, right? But still, that is… very not subtle. A blatant flirtation.”

“I know.”

“Buck must know that too, right?”

“Please, Buck is always flirting with Bucky. He just does it differently. That man is not subtle either.” Brady seems confused by that, not convinced.

“Wait, what do you mean, I’ve never seen him flirt with anyone. Doesn’t he have a girl back home he’s writing to? I thought they were pretty serious!”

Benny makes a placating gesture and leans back in his chair. “I’m not saying he’s not serious with his girl back home or anything, but the way he makes eyes at Bucky is not a made-up thing. And anyone who’s ever read the Bible knows a man can have more than one lover.”

“Benny!”

“I’m just saying…”

But the thing is, the Bucks really aren’t subtle. Like, at all.

And if Bucky thinks he’s quiet in any sense of the word then he’s a damn fool.

Buck may be able to keep quiet most of the time in the daylight, being that he keeps mostly to himself and is pretty private, not saying too much, and isn’t overtly given to random outbursts of sound. But Bucky? Bucky is the pure opposite of Buck. In the daytime, he’s impulsive and will make stray comments on any conversation whether he’s a part of it or not, whether it’s appropriate or not. The only time Benny has ever seen Bucky hold his tongue is when it’s in a professional capacity in front of a superior officer, and even then half the time Bucky is mouthing back and risking his career.

To say this translates to the situation with the Bucks is to say that the sky is blue.

Meaning in December everyone in the Barrack with the Bucks is aware there is a change in the nature of the relationship between the two of them.

They are not subtle. Heavy breathing and the occasional low moan from their bunk is not an unusual occurrence starting sometime in December with increasing frequency.

Nobody says anything about it.

The Bucks are both happier for the shift in their dynamic and anytime somebody goes to complain about it, all of the men from the 100th noticeably stiffen and glare. They’re protective of their Majors to the end. All of them would likely die for either of the Bucks, let alone sucker punch anyone who criticized the men for finding happiness in wartime.

It’s not really a conscious decision on Benny’s part, to defend the Bucks and their relationship, it’s just that any time he hears anyone start to get a little tetchy about it, he gets defensive. So what if they’re keeping you up a bit? Shove off, put some wool in your ears, and deal with it, it’s the damn war. Stop being such a damn child about it.

They don’t complain anymore after that.

It’s just the way it is after that. Nobody says anything about it to anyone else. If the 100th is this protective of the Majors for mere comments, imagine how they would be with an actual threat? DeMarco’s not sure the 100th would be able to leave a man alive. Or at least unscarred— probably scare a man into secrecy if they even thought about saying anything about their Majors.

The days surrounding Christmas are perhaps some of the most awkward days of DeMarco’s life. Not only because it’s Christmas and he’s trying to ignore the holiday, not get caught up in his complicated feelings about the Holy Day that he wished he was spending with family back home, or even on base in more favorable circumstances with more friends, but also because the Bucks are acting weird. There’s a definite tension between them like they’re fighting. It carries into the next day too and the itchy feeling permeates into the air like a bad smell and affects everyone. It’s frankly awful.

Even Brady, who’s not in the same Barracks takes note of it at meal time.

“Benny, why does it feel like Mom and Dad are fighting and it’s my fault?”

“Thank GOD I’m not the only one who noticed!”

“I mean, look at them! They’re sitting right across from each other, and they keep glancing at each other when the other isn’t looking and they’re all moping sad eyes! What is going on?”

“Fuck if I know, Brady.”

“How long until they make up?”

“God, I hope it’s soon.”

Brady has a wild smirk on his face. “My bets are on tomorrow night. By the next morning, they’ll be acting back to normal— just you see.” His eyes are like a madman and Benny can’t see any logical conclusion to what he’s saying.

“No way in hell, kid. I’ll take you on that.”

But when he wakes up the next morning to Bucky’s horrible renditions of the birthday song, Benny knows he’s beat. That little shit knew too much. If Benny had known today was Gale Cleven’s birthday he never would have doubted that the Bucks would reconcile today.

And reconcile they do.

By the end of the night, Benny is convinced anyone in the Barrack who didn’t already know about the Bucks surely does by now because—

They. Are. Not. Subtle.

Or QUIET.

GOD.

Sometimes Benny wishes he could bleach his brain.

He loves his friend, but really, the two of them are colossal idiots.

There was more moaning tonight than usual and the culprit was none other than Buck, which is honestly surprising too since he’s the quiet one between the two of them for most of his life. But it is his birthday.

And— goddamn it— Benny does not need to think about what kind of present Bucky must be giving Buck tonight. Because that is just way too much.

But really? REALLY? In front of all of them?

Benny DeMarco is not getting paid enough to deal with the Bucks.

Benny shuffles into the mess in the morning and sits at his usual table waiting for Brady with his head in his hands. When he sees the Bucks walk in shoulder to shoulder, practically glued to the hip once again, talking quietly about the fuck knows what Buck smiling with his eyes and Bucky practically vibrating out of his skin with wild energy—

Well, Benny knows he’s lost the bet.

Damn, Brady.

Speak of the devil. The younger man takes a seat at the table across from him with a smirk, inclining his head toward the smitten couple a ways down the mess, but doesn’t say anything.

“Oh, shut up, Brady, I got enough of an earful last night.”

Brady’s eyebrows go up comically high at that. “Wait, no! Now you have to dish!”

Benny glares. “As if you didn’t know already that it was Cleven’s birthday yesterday.”

Brady has the decency to look sheepish at that. “I’ll admit, I may have had some insider knowledge there— but how was I supposed to know you didn’t also know? All’s fair, and that.”

“Whatever. You really sure you want to hear this one, Brady?”

“Since when have you been shy about the exploits and drama of the Bucks, Benny?” He’s sure his face must be red. Benny glances over his shoulder where the men are sitting across from each other, chatting like the tension of the last few days never happened.

“Okay, fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. They— well, obviously I don’t know anything for certain, but…”

“But what? Spit it out, Benny!”

Benny covers his eyes with his hand. Why is this so hard to say? Is it because it’s his friends? Is it because they’re men? He doesn’t know, but it feels so secretive like he can’t say it in the daylight. He takes the hand away and leans in a little closer. “Well, I’m pretty sure that Bucky got Buck off last night. There was so much moaning and most all of it was Buck. Some sort of birthday surprise. It’s never been like that before, ya know?”

Brady’s eyes go comically wide, his jaw falling slack just so. His eyes dart over Benny’s shoulder to where the Majors are. Benny wonders if he’s broken the poor kid. After a moment, the biggest grin Benny has ever seen splits Brady’s face.

“OH MY GOD! FINALLY!”

What.

Benny is so confused.

Several people around them look over at Brady’s outburst.

“Brady, shut up!” Benny hisses between clenched teeth.

“Sorry! Sorry, it’s just. I mean, it’s kinda romantic, innit? I mean, you know they met at bootcamp, right? They always tell stories about falling in love during hopeless circumstances and how love overcomes everything— to actually see it happen? I mean, c’mon! Look at them! They’re beating the odds! They keep surviving everything and even though they both got downed in Germany, they both made it here to the same place? Beating the odds again? How can I not be excited that their friendship destined for more is becoming that? And that they’re making it work despite that?” Brady’s staring off into the distance, a goofy-looking smile on his face, his eyes practically filled with hearts, and Benny—

Benny is just staring at him with a dumbfounded expression.

What the actual fuck is going on here.

Benny gets it on a superficial level. What the kid said makes sense in a girly romance-novel sort of way, but it doesn’t connect for him the same way. The Bucks are just his friends and they’re just two guys who like each other and maybe had sex last night way too close to him in the barracks.

Brady is something else.

“Right.”

After that, everything escalates. The Bucks are all over each other day and night it seems, and Brady is always either talking to Benny about them or hounding him for information. It’s like the Bucks bring Brady hope in the camp, but Benny is concerned that it’s bordering on obsessive. As for the Bucks themselves… well, they’re still flying under the radar during the day to anyone who doesn’t know them, but for the love of all that is holy Benny just must know them because it’s like all he can see are their little glances and nods. The way they leave things around for each other in hidden gestures that mean something to the other. How one of them will quirk an eyebrow or leave space for the other to fill.

He doesn’t mean to notice things. He’s trained his whole life to be an observant man! It’s in his nature to pick up on interpersonal dynamics. He could do this with his eyes closed. (At night he does this with his eyes closed and he wishes he could just knock himself unconscious but he swears those men are making out in the bunk across the way. He just knows it).

So, when it’s Valentine’s Day and Buck gets a letter from his sweet, sweet Marge and Buck absolutely shuts down, Benny really should have seen that coming. It surprises him that he didn’t see it coming, actually.

“Brady they’re acting like idiots.”

“Why? It’s Valentine’s Day! They’ve been dating since at least Buck’s birthday— what could possibly have happened?”

“That’s the thing, Brady. I have a theory.”

“Uh-oh. What is it.”

“Listen here, kid, I dunno how well you’ll take this.”

Brady’s eyebrows draw together.

“You don’t think they broke up on Valentine’s, do you?” Brady sounds horrified even at the thought. Before Benny can get in a word edgewise to calm him down, Brady is talking again. “But even if they did have some big blowout fight— Benny! They would never stay apart for long! Look at those two through everything! I mean—“

“Brady! That’s not it at all!”

All the stress instantly drops from Brady’s frame and is replaced with confusion in a moment.

“It’s not? Then… what is it.”

Benny heaves a sigh and runs a weary hand through his hair. Not paid enough for this…

“Listen, Buck got another letter from Marge today, right, ‘cause it’s Valentine’s and all, and Bucky got all sad about it—“

“Right! That makes sense.”

“Stop interrupting me.”

“Sorry!”

Benny glares.

“Sorry,” Brady says again, hands up in a peace offering.

After another moment of staring Brady down, Benny continues. “As I was saying, Bucky got all hurt about the letter, so my theory is that these two idiots,” Benny leans in closer and drops his voice for security’s sake as he continues, “have been dicking around this whole time and never actually talked about the fact that they’re both in love with each other.”

Brady gasps— loudly. He looks even more horrified than when he thought the Bucks broke up.

“NO WAY!”

“SHUT UP!” Benny hisses, looking around to make sure nobody is watching them. “But think about it for a minute.

“There’s no way they haven’t talked about it, Benny! You said so yourself, they’re always up at night talking and whispering— for hours sometimes!”

Benny gives him a wary look. “Yeah, but you honestly think either Buck or Bucky is willingly talking about their feelings for hours and hours?”

Brady purses his lips. “You got me there.”

There’s a beat of silence between them as they both sit with the revelation of it all.

“What happens now, then?”

“Well, one thing is for sure, if Bucky mopes around the barracks for one more goddamn minute I’ll lose my fucking mind, so I’m going to go tell Buck that his boyfriend is being an idiot. And frankly? That he is too.”

“Well, you better let me know how it goes tomorrow! This is SERIOUS, Benny!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure whether I want to or not, you’ll find a way to get it out of me.”

Brady does, in fact, get the story out of Benny the next day.

“OH MY GOD HE WHAT????”

“Brady, would you calm down? And shut the hell up? I just told you what happened!”

“I know, I know! I just can’t believe it. You really mean to tell me that Bucky was moping in his own bunk after MONTHS of sleeping in Buck’s and when Buck confronted him about it he stood at the foot and talked and then suddenly aggressively climbed on top of Bucky for some sexually charged fight until they eventually just started making out?”

“That’s what I just said, Brady, yes.”

Brady starts laughing and doesn’t stop until there are tears in the corners of his eyes.

“I’m also pretty sure they said I love you, but I never can actually hear them. Just from the context.”

“OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOD THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE.”

“Brady SHUT UP!”

~Fin

[winged-cries]

[cw incest/sexual abuse] a scene that's stayed with me, practically imprinted on my brain, was actually from a supernatural fanfic. it's from sam's pov when he's still a child and he hears sounds coming from where dean's sleeping (in a different room, they're staying at a rented home or something of the kind), little muffled pained sounds. he grabs a gun and silently approaches the room, fully ready to kill the monster hurting his brother. but when he approaches, door ajar, he sees it's their father fucking him, so he just feels his whole existence crumbling away and walks silently back to his own room. and nothing much happens, but his whole world has changed from one moment to the next. he looks at dean the next day and feels like he has no ground because the one person he leaned on is crumbling himself. he looks at his father and doesn't know what to feel. he just clings to dean and dreams of leaving.

and i guess it's a twist on the scene we get in the show, where dean approaches sam's room and finds the shtriga sucking his soul, which is one of the creepiest scenes to me.

[johnslittlespoon]

got a bad case of can't stop thinking about john singing blue skies biking in the rain. incurable condition unfortunately. feels bad man

[the-ace-with-spades]

This, I hope, will eventually be posted on ao3 as a proper fic – current draft title is exhumation — but just in case it will not, gonna post it here and let it stew

Canon Divergence AU with secret Identity and later identity reveal drama

(also this involves the backstory from the Ghost comic because I vaguely remember reading it when I was in high school…)

Soap and Ghost meet before they become Soap and Ghost. Johnny is 20, Ghost is 25, and they’re stationed around the same place but different squads — somewhere not far away from Manchester — and they don’t know they’re both from SAS. They meet when Tommy tries to be supportive of Simon’s newly announced queerness and takes him out to a gay bar on Canal Street. Tommy is the one to chat up Johnny (while Simon, obviously not a fan of crowds or loud places, hides away in the bathroom) with ‘see, my brother this and that’  and ‘if you give my brother a chance, he will this and that’. Believe it or not, once Simon strolls back in with all his social awkwardness, Johnny is actually charmed. Things roll around for a couple of months before they admit to each other they’re in the armed forces.

By the time they find out Simon is of higher rank, they’re already gone for each other. They decide to keep going anyway — it’s legal, as of 2001, and they’re not planning on getting a civil partnership for a while, anyway, so in the end, they keep going. Simon changes his next of kin on file to Johnny, they ‘share’ a flat off base, and Johnny’s met Simon’s mum and brother. He more or less knows the lore of the Riley family, mostly how much of a piece of shite his father was and Tommy’s recently fought addiction, and somehow, Simon feels alive for the first time in his life.

It’s all going so perfect, they’ve been together for almost two years, which isn’t long for most, but feels like forever when you’re in the military. Johnny gives him a ring, a sterling silver one with thistle ornaments and a small garnet centre stone. It’s not a proposal, they can’t get married legally, and they won’t have anything but Simon’s will binding them legally for as long as they’re both in the forces — Simon doesn’t know it, but there’s a matching simple band waiting to slide in with the ring he’s got on his tags, and one day, Johnny plans for him to have a full set.

Simon and his team get send out, Simon tells him it’s going to be a long one, somewhere in one of the Americas — Central or South, if he had to guess by all the self-learning Spanish books that cluttered Simon’s bedside table — and Johnny, well, he’s got a bad feeling but when does he not, with their jobs?

Simon’s team gets back, partially. There’s talk about betrayal from his captain, and he’s painfully absent, Simon’s friends look half-dead and act half-dead and no one is telling Johnny anything. He spends his afternoons with Simon’s mum, taking care of her as best as he can while Simon is gone, even though it was never the plan, and dodges Tommy’s aggressive questions, because he knows goddamn nothing.

Johnny doesn’t give up. He waits.

Simon is gone six months — MIA, officially, but KIA in the words of anyone from the brass — when he emerges back from South America, giving Johnny a new heart and a new life. He comes back different, but Johnny doesn’t care, it’s Simon, it’s still him, and maybe there’s something dead in his eyes, and maybe he spaces out more often than not, and maybe he feels cold in Johnny’s arms, and maybe he doesn’t sleep in the same bed, but it’s still Simon, he just needs to heal and figure out how to keep on living.

And Simon tries — he’s got episodes every day, than every other day, than every week, every other week. He goes to therapy, he spends his days cooking with his mum, spends his days cleaning the whole of their flat again and again, spends his days wandering around Manchester, buying Johnny’s favourite drinks, favourite books, favourite breakfast babs.

He tells Johnny bits and pieces, about what happened, enough that Johnny can put it together in a horrifying if blurred picture, and things start to improve, slowly.

He comes back to their bed. He wakes up before Johnny, makes him breakfast, kisses him on the forehead and struggles with the crosswords from the newspapers he picked on his morning run. He goes out with his former teammates, very short trips but trips nonetheless. He stops being afraid to be alone with his nephew, stops being afraid he'll hurt him. He never quite gets used to the scars, covering them more often than not, not wanting the looks.

Second week of December, ten months after he was brought back to the UK from North America, his psychiatrist signs him off for a phased return to duty. No deployments, only base and training site duties, regular sessions with both the psychiatrist and the psychology for the first four months.

Johnny hasn’t seen his family since before Simon gone MIA — finally feeling okay-ish, Simon tells him to go Scotland for Christmas. He’s got his mum, his brother, his sister-in-law and his nephew, and he’s, weirdly, feeling almost optimistic about life.

Obviously, he can’t be happy for long and shit hits the fan.

On Christmas Day, Johnny gets a call from Greater Manchster Police. He and his sister drive down the country and in the early morning of the Boxing Day, Johnny is showed the tags with the familiar silver ring on it, sooted at the edges and slightly misshapen, melted.

Fifteen minutes after he identifies Simon’s body, they tell him he killed his whole family, probably in a PTSD induced episode, then set their house on fire and killed himself right after, when the trauma-haze went down. They tell him he was lucky not to be there when it happened.

Johnny doesn’t believe it. Simon’s mind’s been bad, but it’d always turn on Simon, not on others, he had too much control to let any episode take him over so much. So he doesn’t care what the police or the public says — he arranges the funeral and Simon is buried with the rest of his family.

Meanwhile, Simon goes on a rampage in Mexico. He kills everyone and anyone he even suspects to be involved with Roba’s people. He leaves a trail of dead people behind him for weeks until finally, the US military catches up — General Shepherd catches up and identifies him. The British Army doesn't know what to do with him — officially, he's dead already, the General Register Office has already issued his death certificate to his NOK, the armed forces had condemned his family's tragedy. His existence is…inconvenient. He is suspected to be either compromised or too unstable to be of use to the Army, even if SAS sees how valuable someone who could single-handedly destroy a whole cartel family and fake his own death could be.

Enter John Price, who had met Simon during SAS selection and had a bit too soft of a heart. There's a mural agreement — Price will take personal responsibility to keep him on a leash, at least until he proves he is not a liability, and he will remain dead on paper but active in the Army. No one is to know he is alive — not even Johnny, or maybe especially Johnny, who will be the last person anyone will see as a revenge method. Simon Riley's name is redacted from all available documents.

And thus, Ghost, a nameless lieutenant and a walking cautionary tale, is born.

The only thing Ghost has not predicted is that eventually, almost six years after he put Simon into the grave, Johnny will join the 141.

And somehow, Ghost is just Johnny's type, again.