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[arizonaacandheating]

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[samuelmatthewposts]

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[notjustjavierpena]

Yes

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Long awaited…

Summary: Proposal proposal proposal!!!!!!

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: mature rating, fluff, husband!javier, domestic life, drunk hubby, proposals, kisses and love confessions, javier is WHIPPED for reader

Word count: 1.1k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53458216

Yes

The bedsprings creak underneath Javier as he clumsily crawls onto your shared bed in the middle of the night, making him furrow his brow and start shushing them as if they can hear him. He is drunk, reasonably so, and a year older today. He is also recently back home from a night out with Steve that turned into a little (a lot) more than just a few beers.

He remembers texting you and you telling him to go have fun instead of feeling guilty about leaving you at home, but seeing your sleeping frame next to him is still the highlight of his whole birthday.

It is rare that he falls asleep after you, so now that he has the chance, he admires everything you are in this sleeping state; your mouth is slightly open, breathing quietly, and your eyes flicker behind your eyelids as you dream of something that he hopes involves him.

He loves you. He loves your soft lips, the curve of your nose, the color of your skin, and your hair. He has never found anything more sexy than your breasts and your hips, your perfect legs, and the harbor of your arms which brings him peace when he feels worn out. He blinks in disbelief at the fact that he gets to come home to you each day.

He wants to touch you to get some of all the tingling adoration out of his system but he doesn’t want to wake you. So instead, he flops onto his back and the bed shakes enough to make you stir. He swears under his breath, “Mierda.”

“Javi?” You call out in the next moment, voice thick with sleep, and he wants to tell himself off for disturbing your slumber.

“Fuck, sorry, baby,” he says and means it, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You’re all dressed,” you point out, sniffing the air and grimacing, “And drunk.”

Despite your comment, Javier still crawls closer to you to kiss your cheek repeatedly. You start giggling at the tickling of his mustache and, when he tries to wrap around you like an octopus, squirming in his arms when they squeeze you, “You stink!”

“Just saying hi to my girlfriend,” he tuts.

“Well, hi,” you continue laughing, and Javier’s head swims. He continues attacking you with kisses, allowing himself to be silly.

Something takes hold of him right at that moment. He blurts it out on a whim, “Marry me.”

He knows that the proper thing - and the thing that you deserve - is to book a table at a nice place, order a nice bottle, and then take a nice stroll in the moonlight but you have just laughed (because of him!) to the point where tears have formed in the corners of your eyes and you’ve accidentally snorted, reaching up to cover your mouth and nose afterward in embarrassment. He doesn’t think that he can love you more than the way he does at this moment, so the words fly right out of his mouth and send his pulse through the roof when his mind catches onto the fact that he actually means it.

“Marry me,” he repeats in the middle of your giggles.

“What?” You ask, genuinely unaware of what he has been saying.

Javier pauses for a split second. He takes the sight of you in, not that he is contemplating if he has made the right choice because he is so sure. You are in black underwear and a loose tank top, breath minty fresh from brushing your teeth, and so beautiful in the dim glow of the bedroom. So beautiful that Javier falls in love with you a little more, “I just want you to marry me. Fuck, I want you to be my wife. I want this forever.”

It is a brilliant (or maybe tipsy) idea. He nearly falls off the bed as he moves to reach into his bedside drawer, aware of the way you are gaping at him as he has his back towards you. He fumbles for his mother’s ring which he has stashed in the bedside drawer for who-knows-how-long. As he turns back, you burst into laughter, half incredulous and half charmed by the absurdity of it all.

“Yes,” you say with the widest grin.

Javier’s eyes go wide. He suddenly feels very sober, looking down at you from where he is lying on his side, “Wait, what? You will?”

“Of course I will!” You exclaim happily, eyes flicking down to the gorgeous ring that Javier is clumsily pinching between two fingers. It looks old, its gold band’s appearance hinting that it is something with romantic nostalgia and has been worn by someone else for years. You don’t have to ask; it used to belong to the previous - or should you say original? - Mrs. Peña.

You hold out your hand. Javier eases the ring onto your finger which somehow is a perfect fit. The fact that you get to wear it now is enough to make your chest tighten with pride and anxiety due to the responsibility.

“It’s beautiful, Javi,” you sniffle, and then you throw your arms around him, pulling your body up against his chest until he automatically embraces you. His hands slip underneath your tank top, up your back, as you hug, and your hands settle on the back of his head and neck.

His grip tightens but not out of possession. Instead, it is for all the things that he wants to say but does not have the words to do so. He feels your soft hair against his cheek, closes his eyes, and gives in to your warmth. How did he ever become so lucky? You are his future, something he knows as home, someone with the face of his future children.

You stay like that for a while, and then as you start to pull away, you kiss him so hard that it’s a little ridiculous instead of romantic. The romance of it is in how you choose to ignore the taste of alcohol on his breath. Javier feels as though all air has been knocked out of him until you finally let him breathe again.

“I love you,” you smile as you say it, “Fiancé.”

“I love you too, baby,” he replies, realizing he has yet to kick off his shoes. He turns onto his back again and starts with the left.

“And happy birthday,” you continue and out of the corner of his eye, he can see you admiring the ring before laying your hand on the pillow so you can stare at it as you fall asleep again.

“Best present I’ve ever received,” he mumbles, suddenly tired from the alcohol and the emotion. He falls asleep next to you, fully clothed and still wearing a shoe on his right foot.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Can you please make one of Muntant mayhem x reader? I bet you will do a awesome job on it! By the way love your content! <3

Beauty in the Bodega: part 1 (Fluff)

MM!Leonardo x reader

Part 2

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

A/N: Thank you so much!😊💕💕 I’ve actually been wanting to write for Mutant Mayhem for some time now, but I just haven’t had any ideas until now💚 Inspired by when Mikey comments on Leo’s crush on April with: “Here he goes again”, and Donnie’s: “Every girl, man”, implying that MM Leo has had quite a few crushes in the past💙😏

Hope you enjoy!💚🐢

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

During a grocery run to the nearest bodega, Leonardo sees a girl that makes his heart skip and his insides feel warm.

Warnings: Spelling and Mutant Mayhem cuteness💙

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

The sewers beneath New York City were a chaotic blend of echoes as the four brothers moved stealthily through the shadows. With a memorized grocery list in hand, they moved silently and stealthily, just like their father had taught them to, each of them knowing exactly what to get.

Leonardo led the way, his keen eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of trouble. His younger brothers, Michelangelo, Donatello, and Raphael, followed closely behind, their ninja senses sharp as they navigated the labyrinthine tunnels, until they made it to the familiar ladder that led them to the world of the humans.

As they reached the surface, the brothers climbed the nearby fire escape before sprinting across the roof, until they found themselves on top of the building that housed the small bodega. Leo surveyed the area, ensuring it was safe, before nodding to his brothers. With practiced ease, they slipped in through the ventilation system.

In the vent just above the store, the four turtles found themselves staring down at the mostly empty store. The only human being, the ever absent minded cashier at the cash register, who was busy with a very infuriating crossword, mumbling about a word that was causing them a lot of problems.

With a quick nod from Leonardo, the brothers crawled out of the vent and split up to cover more ground. Donnie took care of the toiletries, while lip syncing to the music playing in the bodega. Raph was busy finding kitchen and cleaning supplies, while Mikey was digging his way through the best junk food. Leo found himself in the snacks aisle, contemplating the various options. He remembered what his father had told him before they went out. Make sure the Doritos were party sized. Party sized Doritos. Remember that Leonardo.

The bell above the entrance to the bodega rang, altering the cashier and the brothers to a new presence in the small store. All four of them knew what that meant - hide. With lightning fast speed Donnie disappeared up into the vent, Raph found a spot among the cleaning supplies, and Mikey hid up above on top of the long lamps. Leo stayed on the ground, hiding behind the shelves, relieved when he realized that the cashier still hadn't noticed them.

Through the shelves, he caught a glimpse of the person who had just entered the bodega, and his heart almost stopped at the sight, making him drop the Doritos bag. Of course he had expected a human, but he had not expected one looking like you did. Your presence, seemingly ordinary yet captivating, drew Leo's gaze. He couldn't help but watch as you moved through the bodega, selecting items with an easy grace.

You came into the store, humming to the music that was playing in your headphones, totally oblivious to the eyes of Leonardo that were watching your every move.

Leo’s brothers, scattered throughout the store, noticed his distraction and exchanged knowing glances. Raphael, spotting Leo's fixation, smirked and made eye contact with Donatello, who joined in the silent communication with a playful grin.

Leo tried to regain his composure, tearing his eyes away from you for a split second, as he moved to a different shelf, before you managed to see him. His heart was beating, not just from the fear of getting caught by a human, but the thought of how close you were to him. But as you moved away to a shelf further away, Leo couldn’t help but follow along, making sure that he was staying hidden.

Leo watched as you gathered your things before walking up to the cash register. You placed your stuff in front of the cashier, waiting as they groggily started scanning your items. Leo and his brothers used this as an opportunity to get the last they needed, before hurrying back into the vent, all while the cashier was focused on your items.

With all of their groceries in bags, they hurried through the vent and up onto the roof, just in time to see you leave out the front door of the bodega with your newly bought groceries, once again humming to the music in your headphones.

“It feels like / Skuba duba dabda dididaj / Skuba duba dabda dididaj / I love you / Another cliche baby”, you sang along, doing a little dance as you walked.

Leo watched you with a smile, his heart skipping a beat at the sight. There was just something about humans, especially the ones like you, that just warmed his heart. Carefree, dancing and singing down the street, without having to worry about who was watching. How he wished he could do something like that, with someone just like you.

Raphael couldn't resist a teasing comment, hitting Leo’s arm when he saw him staring after you. "Well, well, look who's got heart in his eyes again. Leo, you've got a thing for grocery shopping now?"

Donatello joined in, smirking. "I think I saw a spark between Leo and that cereal box".

Michelangelo laughed. "Maybe it's love at first sight. Or should I say, love at first snack?", he said and pulled out a pack of oreos from his bag, causing both Donnie and Raph to hold their stomach in laughter.

Leo tried to brush off their comments, a faint blush visible under his mask. "It's nothing. Let's just go home".

“Booooooring”, Donnie groaned out loud, as he followed Leonardo’s lead back to the sewers. But his brothers weren't about to let him off the hook that easily.

As they made their way back home through the sewers, Leo’s brothers continued to tease him, comparing you to all the other girls that have caught his attention over the yes. Was it really so bad that he dreamed of getting a girlfriend one day? All human teenagers his age did the same, so was it wrong of him just because he was a turtle.

As they were about to round the corner before the entrance to their home, Leo stopped in realization. He had forgotten the Doritos.

“Oh shit”, he mumbled, before giving his bags to his brothers.

“Yo, what’s happening, man?”, Raph asked in confusion.

“I forgot the Doritos”, Leo said in a hurry. “Tell dad I’ll be back in a minute! I’ll hurry!” And with those words Leo was down the sewer before any of his brothers could protest.

Leo made it to the ladder and pushed the sewer cover off, only to stop dead in his tracks. Right in front of him on the alley floor was a perfect party sized Doritos bag, with a note taped to it.

Leo’s first thought was that he should run. The fear that a human had caught him burning in his throat. But he didn’t run. Instead he looked around to make sure he was alone, before he reached out and grabbed the bag, bringing it down to the sewer. Once at the foot of the ladder, Leo took a look at the note taped to the bag. It was hard to read with his shaking hands, but he managed.

“Hey stranger! I think you dropped this at the bodega, so I thought I would bring it to you. (Y/N) <3. P.S. You and your friends are quite noisy once you get up on the roof;)”.

Leo felt like fainting. A human had brought him the Doritos that his dad had asked him for. Not just any human, but you. The pretty human from the bodega.

Heat creepy up his cheeks, as he took the note and hid it in a pocket on his belt. Thinking back on Raph’s comment, Leo couldn’t help but giggle a little. He might have a thing for grocery shopping now.

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

A/N: MM Leonardo with his crushes gives me “Cliche Love Song” by Basim vibes. Also the song used💕

[softgreengrass]

Gone Bad

Natasha Romanoff x reader

Summary: You're a SHIELD agent on a mission gone bad.

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: blood, getting shot, f!reader

Author's Note: hurt/comfort ig? FLUFF. soft natasha :)

You weren’t sure where exactly you went wrong. You had gotten the mission assignment from Fury, done the required research, made sure you were properly trained, and left quickly. Everything had been going exactly to plan — you snuck in through the roof, incapacitated a few guards, and maneuvered to the underground vault that held the top-secret computer chips you were after. The security system was easy to freeze. The vault was easy to crack.

Only, at some point during your exit, you made a mistake. It could’ve been anything: tripping a sensor, or leaving a guard slightly conscious, or, hell, you could’ve taken a wrong turn and walked right in front of a camera. It didn’t matter. The point was, you had fucked up, and now you were getting shot at.

In the midst of the panic and rush, all that was on your mind was how disappointed Fury would be. This was only your fourth solo mission, and sure, the first three had gone off without a hitch, but agents weren’t supposed to make mistakes. If you managed to worm your way out of this with the chips—and that was a big if—would he even trust you to go on another solo? It didn’t seem likely. This operation was supposed to be a secret, it was supposed to happen completely under the enemies’ noses, but that was all hopeless now. They knew that SHIELD was after them. Shit, they knew that SHIELD was after them.

In all of your spiraling, you didn’t notice the hostile sneaking up behind you and cocking a gun. What you did notice, however, was the sharp, burning pain in the center of your stomach. The agony and blood quickly blooming across your torso. The terror that instantly compounded into a heavy sludge in your gut.

In an instant, fear snapped into focus, and you swiftly knocked the man out and found your way to an exit.

There wasn’t a moment for you to catch your breath as you straddled your motorcycle and peeled down the road, away from the facility. You ducked and cranked the throttle when bullets whizzed past you.

Embarrassingly, the thought of having to explain to Fury how you fucked up brought tears to your eyes, so you made a split-second decision. You haphazardly swung right at the next intersection, ignoring the honks and shouts that followed you. You sped away from SHIELD headquarters and gritted your teeth.

Maybe it was the blood loss, or the fact that you were numb with adrenaline and panic, but you were headed towards a place you had only been a few times — strictly on invitation. But it was the only place you could think of that would take you in if you showed up verging on death.

“If she’s not here,” you wheezed to yourself, stepping off of your bike and limping through the dark parking garage. “I’ll just check her other place. Yeah. I’ll check the other place.”

No matter how many times you repeated that to yourself, by the time you had dragged yourself to her door, you knew you had no chance of getting anywhere else. You were already dangerously lightheaded, swaying with every knock you landed.

At some point you collapsed against it. You didn’t want to believe that she wasn’t home. You couldn’t.

Your name, foggy and distorted, pulled you from comfortable darkness. Hands shook your shoulders, and someone called your name again.

Natasha’s face blurred into focus. There was a crease between her eyebrows. “What happened?”

The day came flooding back, and with it, the pain. “Mission,” you breathed weakly.

The corners of her mouth quirked up, her eyes brightening. “Mission?”

“Didn’t really go well,” you finished, glancing down at your shirt. It was soaked through with blood.

Natasha’s gaze followed yours, and a heavy sigh escaped her lips. “Why didn’t you go back to SHIELD?”

You swallowed.

After a moment of thick silence, she stood up from her crouched position and grabbed your hands, pulling you to your feet with ease. Your vision immediately went black and you slumped against her.

“Okay,” she mumbled, trying to quiet the fear roaring inside of her. “Okay, let’s get you inside.”

When you came to for a second time, it was nearly sunrise, and Natasha sat beside you on the couch, watching a muted hockey game. Your shirt was off, leaving you in a sports bra, and your stomach was wrapped in clean white gauze. When you shifted, her attention immediately snapped to you.

“Morning,” she said quietly, her expression an amalgamation of amusement and concern.

You forced a small smile. In truth, your head was pounding like it never had before.

As if she read your mind, she reached over to the coffee table and grabbed the painkillers and glass of water sitting, ready. She offered them to you gently.

When you had chugged the entire glass, sighed dramatically, and leaned back, she spoke.

“So are you going to tell me why I came home and found you bleeding out at my door at midnight?”

You didn’t want to, but then again you had no choice. “Got shot,” you grunted.

“Yeah, I noticed that,” she bit. “Why?”

“Mission went wrong.” You screwed your eyes shut, willing the pain away.

“I’m gonna need more information than that.”

“Didn’t wanna go to SHIELD.”

She seemed to realize that her hard attitude wasn’t going to get her anywhere. She took a deep breath and looked at you — really looked at you. The dark circles under your eyes, the sunkenness of your cheeks, the slight shaking of your hunched shoulders. The bruises covering you. Her heart clenched.

“What happened?” she asked, this time softly. It caught you off guard.

“I-” your voice broke, and you closed your mouth before a sob could escape.

“Oh, baby,” she mumbled, pulling you into her arms, careful not to strain your wound. “It’s okay.”

You hid your face in her neck, holding back more tears. Her arms wrapped around you securely, holding you so tightly you didn’t think she’d ever let go. You didn’t want her to let go.

“It’s okay,” she repeated, kissing your hair.

“I messed up,” you whimpered. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I-”

“All that matters is that you’re okay,” Natasha said. “Understand? That’s all that matters.”

You couldn’t stop the hot tears from rolling down your cheeks. “But the mission…”

“The mission doesn’t matter.”

She sounded so sure of herself, you couldn’t even argue. Maybe she would talk to Fury for you. Maybe it would be okay.

White-hot guilt shot through you. Who were you to show up at her doorstep like this? To force her to care for you, and then expect her to save you from Fury’s wrath? Sure, you weren’t strangers, but this was asking too much. You shouldn’t have been making her worry. You shouldn’t have kept her up all night. You shouldn’t have gotten hurt in the first place — no. This was all your fault.

You wanted to act on your guilt, push her away and block her out, but your body wasn’t listening to your brain. Your hands refused to move, except to grip her shirt tighter. All you could manage to do was squeak out another apology. “I’m sorry.”

“Shhh,” she whispered, stroking your back. “It’s okay.”

You couldn’t help but break down sobbing. After a few minutes, Natasha reassuring you and whispering your name like a prayer, you found yourself taking a deep breath.

“I want to take you to headquarters,” she murmured into your hair.

Your breath caught in your throat.

“Just for the injuries,” she rushed to say, quick to continue rubbing your back. You sighed in relief. “It’s okay that a mission went bad. It happens to everyone.”

You shook your head against her. “No, this was, it didn’t go bad, I fucked it up.”

“That’s okay.”

“I shouldn’t have made a mistake,” you croaked, pulling away from her. Your hair stuck to your red, tear-streaked face, and she still placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. She still looked at you with nothing but care in her eyes.

“I don’t care that you made a mistake.”

Yet again, she’d caught you off guard. You couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

“What was the mission?” she asked quietly, slowly moving strands of hair out of your face.

“I had to recover these stupid computer chips,” you scoffed, looking down.

“What happened to the chips?”

You pulled them out of the pocket on your pant leg and tossed them onto the coffee table. Natasha’s eyebrows flew up.

“So you didn’t mess up. You completed the mission.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “They weren’t supposed to know I was there.”

“So what?” she laughed, genuinely laughed, and you looked up. “You still won.”

Oh. Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal after all.

Her eyes softened and she brushed more hair off of your face before kissing your forehead again. “You did good.”

That sent you into another crying fit, but Natasha didn’t mind. She would happily spend the rest of her life drying your tears. She held you close to her chest, lightly scratching the base of your scalp.

You couldn’t believe how soft she was. Soft, and cozy, and you never wanted to leave her arms.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi!! Do you maybe know of any fics that feature touch-starved Sherlock? Thank you so much in advance, and I hope you have an amazing day!

Hey Nonny!!

AHHH I DO, BUT it's in a combined list if that's okay???

And you're in luck, I'm short on a list this week, so I'm gonna also post you the second short list I have as well!! I hope you enjoy, even if it's not EXACTLY what you're looking for!!

As always friends, if you have something, please add them below!

TOUCHING / TOUCH STARVATION Pt 2

See also: Touching / Touch Starvation

Bond, Sherlock Bond! by macgyvershe (T, 631 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Kissing, Couch Cuddles, Sexy Talk with No Explicit Sex, Bond Night, Established Relationship) – John is doing a Bond-a-thon. Sherlock is ready for a night of movies and munchies. Washed down with Devil Mountain coffee. Eventually everything comes together in the best of ways.

The Skin Over My Heart by standbygo (E, 8,849 w., 1 Ch. || Post-Hiatus, Fake Relationship, Case Fic, Dog Tags, Military, Homophobia, Gay Bashing, POV First Person Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Declarations of Love, Undercover, Haircuts, Flashbacks, Touching, Pining Sherlock, Hospitalization, Metaphors, Introspection, Hand Jobs, On the Couch, John’s Past, Angst with Happy Ending) – Sherlock and John are still trying to adjust to Sherlock's return from his hiatus when John's friend Bill Murray brings them a case. Someone is targeting the LGBTQA+ members of Bill's unit. John and Sherlock go undercover at the unit, but when they end up having to flirt to flush out the suspect, Sherlock realizes he's in over his head.

A Comprehensive Taxonomy of Tobacco-Ash by Silvergirl (E, 11,475 w., 2 Ch. || No TRF AU || Cranky Sherlock, Alternating POV’s, Self-Esteem Issues, Jealous John, Pining John, Confessions, First Kiss, Frottage, Bed Sharing, Sensuality, Cuddling, Touching) – A handsome academic approaches Sherlock about publishing his magnum opus on tobacco-ash in a prestigious scientific journal. Sherlock is quite flattered and flustered, and John’s nose is out of joint.In this little AU there is no Fall and no Mary. Instead, there is humor and smut. Truly a disproportionate amount of smut.

Spare Parts by Raina_at (E, 63,497 w., 10 Ch. || 24th Century / Futurism AU || Post TRF, Pre-TRF Relationship, Case Fic, Mutual Pining, Estrangement, Reconciliation, Science Fiction, Reunion, Nightmares, Angry John, Cybernetic John, Emotional Discussions / Heart to Heart, POV John, Scars, Past Drug Use, Forehead Touching, Emotional Lovemaking, Kissing, Apologies, Kidnapping, Rescue Mission, BAMF John, Bed Sharing, Top Sherlock) – Two years ago, Sherlock Holmes jumped off the roof of New London Hospital. Two months ago, he walked into John's clinic as if no time had passed at all. John hasn't seen him since. But then Sherlock knocks on John's door with a case he can't say no to, and while figuring out why the biggest manufacturer or synthetic limbs in the System is going after veterans, they also need to find out whether there's a way to fix what's broken between them. Part 1 of Realigning Gravity

Bakers with Benefits by Raina_at (E, 88,130 w., 14 Ch. || Great British Bake Off AU || Strangers to Lovers, Switchlock, Friends with Benefits, Mentions of Alcoholism / Past Drug Use, Banter, Flirting, Fluff, Light Angst, Semi-Public Sex, Past Sherlock/Victor, Mutual Pining, POV Sherlock, Obsessive Sherlock, John’s Bum) – Sherlock Holmes has a successful YouTube baking channel, but what he really wants is his own bakery. When an old friend sends him a call for the very first Great British Bake Off, he seizes the opportunity to finally win a sponsor for his bakery. Here's the plan: Win Bake Off, get the bakery, don't fall in love with the handsome Army doctor at the neighbouring station. Easy.

Fade To Black by twistedthicket1 (M, 93,389 w., 29 Ch. || Split Personality Disorder / DID, Action, Romance, Violence, Implied Rape/Non-Con, BAMF John, Fluff and Angst, Baskerville, Human Experimentation, PTSD, Implied Self Harm, Trauma Amnesia, Past Child Sexual Abuse, Protective Sherlock, Smoking, Meddling Mycroft, Past Victor/Sherlock, Gay Sherlock, Sherlock’s Past, First Kiss/Time) – John Watson believes one day he'll just fade. That he'll drown in the black spaces of his mind, and that one day he will no longer exist. It's always been like this, the dark spots marking out moments in his life he can't remember. Where for just a moment he's someone else. Having a Dissociative identity disorder, he can't even be entirely sure he's really who he says he is. Then he meets Sherlock Holmes. A brilliant detective who when he looks at you can read your entire life story. John is immediately fascinated and afraid, half-wondering if maybe Sherlock can see the other personalities in him and half terrified of the thought of him finding out. Becoming his flatmate seems at once to be a wonderful and horrible idea. Yet as John's Blackouts become more and more severe and his other personalities begin to truly awaken and show themselves with Sherlock's help, the two soon discover that sometimes even the kindest person can harbour a demon best left untouched inside of them. Because not all of John's other personalities play nicely and some may be hiding secrets best left undisturbed...

Drawn to Stars by Silvergirl (E, 109,272 w., 60 Ch. || S4 Compliant to TLD / TFP Doesn’t Exist, Sherlock’s Italian Adventure, Sherlock/OC and Johnlock, Jealous John, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, First Kiss/Time, Idiots in Love, 3 Part Story, Slow Burn, Inexperienced Sherlock, Bottom Sherlock, Introspection, Multiple Alternating First and Third Person POV, Separation and Reconciliation, Emotional Love Making, Love Confessions via Letters, Angst with Happy Ending) – After the Culverton Smith case Sherlock is clean, working, and looking for a romantic partner—since John has told him that’s what he needs. Shame John didn’t mention he was interested in that role himself, before Sherlock went off to Rome with a gorgeous Italian copper to try to fall in love and become a complete human being.  Part 1 of the Drawn to Stars series

Sherlock Holmes Live by emilycare (E, 488,496 w., 73 Ch. || Theatre AU || Immersive Theatre, Romance, Slow Burn, Fake / Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Bisexual John, Demisexual Gay Sherlock, Alternating POV, Falling in Love, Eventual Case Fic, Soft Sherlock, Panic Attacks, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with Happy Ending, Pining John) –  Down on his luck John Watson answers an advert for a paid role in an experimental play. Enter William Scott with a most unusual proposition: help him test run a two person immersive experience, oh and by the way there is sex and romance involved.

[angel-of-the-moons]

I'm back again since it's been about a month since I last requested. I hope you don't mind me asking another story. So I was thinking of another Hobie one. There is honestly not enough stories about him and I love the way you write him. I was thinking of a more fluff type thing or possibly head cannons. You decide. Regardless about living with Hobie or just spending some downtime with him. Just a chill little thing I wanted to put out there. Thank you. I love your works and appreciate you 😘

Ilysm!!! I am sorry these asks have been rotting in my inbox! I'm finally working on them!!!

Ice Cream

Hobie Brown x Reader

TW/CW: Marijuana usage

Hobie is obviously aged-up in this

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

• When Hobie isn't rocking out with his band at pubs, or fighting the regime™ or working to save the multiverse with the Old Man, he's at home with you.

• He often slips into the window because he refuses to use the front door like a normal person (even if you live on the fifth floor)

• Hobie would find you wherever you were, on the couch, in the kitchen, in bed or in the bathroom; and would immediately wrap his lanky arms around you and breathe deep and relax every muscle in his body

• "Where've you been?" You tease, easing his spiked vest off his stiffened shoulders.

• "Dealin' with the Old Man and his nonstop bitchin'." Hobie said, clicking his tongue, leaning over to rest his chin on the top of your head, holding you against him once more as you carefully ease the rest of his punk paraphernalia off of his person.

• You lead him to the bed, and pull him down on top of you, using your remote to turn on the sound system, playing some of his favorite music tracks on a low volume for background noise

• "You're a goddamn angel, y'know that, luv?" Hobie sighed, closing his eyes as he listens to the soft patter of your heartbeat

• "Mmh, I try." You chuckle, your fingers idly fluffing his wicks and toying with them as you feel his breathing even out

• And in no time, he's out like a light, sprawled out over you like a lanky starfish

• Forget moving this man, despite his thin physique he somehow finds the magic in him to weigh as much as his old, beat-up van

• You're stuck in bed, so the only thing left to do is give in and join him for a nap

• When you two wake up, you work on your usual routine.

• Hobie helps cook, making homemade chips while you batter and bake some fresh chicken

• Once your lunch/dinner is finished, you both cuddle on the sofa and watch some shitty movie on your telly

• He 100% has gutter humor, as well as a perverted sense of one

• Is also very big into physical humor. I'm talking shoving tissues into his nose and pretending to be a walrus kind of physical humor. Whatever it takes to hear you laugh

• Totally plays his guitar for you, singing punk versions of almost any kind of song (except American country. That shite is a travesty upon the music industry!)

• Will often split his pot with you, either rolling joints or using a bong, he'll always offer you a hit if you need or want it

• If you can't handle it, he'll FaceTime you while he smokes on the roof. That way, you're still together and he isn't negatively affecting your health/personal preferences with his smoking

• If you're sick, Hobie will full on hit the breaks to whatever he's doing to take care of you (provided it's a possibility that he can do that)

• This includes sending a selfie with a middle finger to Miguel telling him to not bug him til you're better

• 100% a master at making simple comfort foods when you're sick. Cheese toasties, chicken noodle soup, vegetable soup, even homemade ice cream. He does it all for you

• Runs you a nice hot bath with some eucalyptus and Epsom salts to help your sore muscles and clear sinuses

• If you're nauseous, he'll put peppermint oil in the water with you and run to the market for some ginger pop to ease your stomach, maybe some ginger root tea while he's at it

• Will also buy you some of your favorite digestives just to make sure you get something solid in your tummy

• Will totally fake threaten you about blabbing to anyone about his "secret soft side" and "ruining his image"

• Everyone already knows, he's just blind as hell and doesn't notice lmao

• This man is 100% loyal. If any gal/pal/guy flirts with him, he will flat out shoot em down

• "Nah, mate. I already got the best partner in crime a guy like me could ever ask for. Nobody c'n compare to that!"

• Always makes sure he never worries you (or at least tries to)

• If Hobie is sick or hurt, positions are reversed and you become his personal nurse

• Totally doesn't pretend to be sick sometimes just so you'll spoil him

• You know he's full of shit when he does though, but you just humor him because he's cute about it

• Yeah, you both put up with each other's shit, but you'd never have it any other way

• However... Hobie definitely knows when he's in trouble.

• "Hobart Brown!" You'd shout.

• Yeah, Hobie could easily feel his blood chill when you use his government name

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

Chapter 12 Nemo dat quot non habet (No one gives what they do not have) - Cartagena Part 5

Sorry for the lateness, people, lots of shit going on

Taglist: @glitterypirateduck @letsreadallday @jamesrifftapes @mmyrrhh @sofasoap @sinyaaa

Dedicated to my lovely anon, whose asks help me a lot with stablishing lore and give me strength to continue writing. These last weeks have been awful, but seeing my inbox full with your asks and Nrds make me smile. I'll get to them now that this is out of the way

Warnings: None, rotten fluff. It got too long so I split the chapter

Previous / Masterlist / Next

‘‘Again’’ Ghost grumbled, pointing with the pencil at the sheet of paper lying among them on the kitchen table. ‘‘We’ll stop here to gear up and split up’’

On the paper there was a crude map of Mejía’s house location, drawn by Soap from memory with Riot’s help, and a big part of the roads and rolling hills around.

‘‘You and I will go to the point you think will be best for you to cover the perimeter with your sniper rifle’’ Soap leaned in, grabbing the pencil from Ghost’s hand and marking a small X on the top of a certain hill. ‘‘This one seemed to be the highest. On the other hand, this house here has more floors and seemed to be empty’’

‘‘Looked vacant, no security system either’’ The Lieutenant nodded, recovering the pencil and marking the house as well. There were already a collection of little marks all over the paper, where they had been discussing the different points of interest. ‘‘We’ll check the hill first just in case, but if it’s not high enough I’ll climb the roof’’

‘‘Then we’ll drive up to the house and check the inside before searching whatever it is that Captain Rico was looking for when he had Mejía killed’’ Gabi added, too cheerfully to Ghost’s liking, but ah well, that was her nature. Johnny was looking at her with fondness, with that same stupid look in his baby blue eyes that Tommy had when he was courting Beth.

Shaking his head, Ghost turned his gaze towards Riot, whose right knee was bouncing lightly, pressed against his thigh beneath the table. The mention of her former CEO had darkened her eyes, now lost somewhere on the paper but not really seeing anything. Arms crossed, jaw clenched, no doubt fantasizing with how many bullets she’d put into the bastard’s skull.

The sun had barely risen over the horizon when they all had got up to have breakfast and gather around the table to review the plan.

There were a lot of unknowns. A lot of open space around the house, neighbours, prying eyes and ears. It should be done quickly so they could disappear just as quick, vanishing before the police or Guardia Civil could be called.

‘‘We should have everything here ready to go. And change cars again before leaving for Granada’’ Riot murmured at last, leaning forward and grabbing the pencil, making small marks on the paper as she spoke. ‘‘We’ll leave the van here, to cover the house entrance. The position you are aiming for is one that allows you to see the back of the house and the back garden, where the explosion happened’’

‘‘Then the roof will be better. I’ll have a more direct angle and a wider range of action’’ Ghost nodded, and gently took the pencil back from her hand, seeing the way she was gripping it. ‘‘In and out, you two. The second you sense something’s wrong, I want you two out of the house and down the road, are we clear?’’

Gabi nodded swiftly, but Riot smiled tiredly, looking up at him.

‘‘We need to find whatever Gonzalo had, Laswell wants it’’

‘‘I don’t give a flying fuck about what Laswell wants or not. You’re entering there with a civilian, which is like going in alone with a hand tied to your back’’ Ghost ignored the outraged squeak coming from Gabi, his hard brown eyes staring right into the blue-gray irises that made him loose sleep. ‘‘The very second you feel something isn’t right you are getting out of here, or we’ll have words. Don’t make me get down there to drag you out’’

‘‘Oh, you would do that?’’ Her smile widened, just as tired and sad as before, and he felt a strange, passing moment of his heart aching when the scar on her face twisted and pulled from the corner of her lips, making her smile even more uneven.

‘‘March down there and toss you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes to get you out, you stubborn brat?’’ He leaned forward, ignoring Gabi’s giggles and the shit eating grin that Soap was showing, until their noses almost touched. ‘‘Try me’’

‘‘I’ll take your word on it’’ Christine rolled her eyes, but her smile seemed to be more sincere then. More genuine. Almost flirty. Chuckling deeply, Ghost straightened up and looked at Johnny, pointing at him with the pencil.

‘‘If something happens you’re on the move to check on it and terminate whatever it is’’

Soap nodded solemnly, still sporting his usual grin, but his baby blue eyes were as serious as they always were when discussing important things. Ghost was glad he could count on him.

‘‘Good’’ The Lieutenant nodded, leaving the pencil on the table and then bringing the paper to the kitchen sink to light it up with his lighter. ‘‘Pack up, check we’ve emptied the place, and off we go. Wheels up in fifteen tops’’

The other three murmured their agreement and the group separated to go check their belongings. Most had been packed already the moment the had got up from bed, but it wouldn’t hurt to check.

Ghost leaned against the bathroom’s open door, observing Riot as she brushed her hair, with the intention of tying it up in the usual bun she wore while on duty.

‘‘I meant it’’

Christine smiled at him, looking at him through the mirror’s reflection with a bunch of bobby pins caught between her teeth, busy trying to keep the loose strands in place.

‘‘I know’’ With a soft, quiet giggle, she continued with her task, comfortable with his presence. Simon was looking down at the crown of her head, almost transfixed. The domesticity of the situation wasn’t lost to him.

He continued looking, listening to her hum and frown at herself on the mirror, trying to keep the bun in place and brushing back loose strands from her face to pin them too. His fingers itched to reach forward and sink in her hair, pull from it, bring her back towards his body so he would lean in and bury his masked face in it, and drown in the scent of her shampoo. In her scent.

But they had a job to do.

‘‘How does it look from the back?’’

Simon blinked slowly, taking him a couple of seconds to understand her question, and shrugged.

‘‘Looks good to me’’

On the mirror, Christine’s brows raised almost to her hairline, feigning surprise and offense, and his shoulders tensed up. What had he done now?

‘‘Only good? Aw’’ Her voice sounded uncharacteristically whiny, but the sly grin curving her lips betrayed her. Simon relaxed and chuckled, shaking his head.

‘‘Are we talking about your hair?’’

‘‘I don’t know, are we?’’ Her coy smile made him bark a short laugh, and he straightened up from his position leaning against the door to devour the small distance between them with just a step. Her back to his chest, his chin resting on the top of her head. Trying not to think how close her body was, and how easy it would be to close his arms around her and never let go.

‘‘I prefer your hair down’’ Simon rumbled, resting his hands on the sink at each side of her. Caging her in. Christine didn’t complain, and the fleeting moment of stiffness was so brief that he didn’t notice, or if he did, said nothing. She just smiled at him on the mirror, with the faintest hint of pink blossoming on her cheeks.

‘‘Difficult to justify, wearing a police uniform’’ God, he was so close. So warm. Towering over her in his dark hoodie and jeans, only needing to put on the rest of his gear and the full mask to become Ghost again.

Simon tutted, half joking and half truly displeased, and buried his covered nose in her hair, unable to resist the temptation. Christine left the brush aside and placed her hands on his, on the sink, pushing back just slightly to feel herself more enveloped in his warmth.

Dark brown eyes met blue-grey ones on the mirror when Simon looked down at her again. Slowly, his right hand left the sink, with hers still on top, and splayed open over her belly to bring her even further back against his chest, pulling her flush to him.

‘‘Belarus was different’’ His voice was lower than before. The bathroom’s door was open, and they both could hear the chatter coming from the master bedroom as Johnny and Gabi finished collecting their things. The fifteen minutes had been up a bit ago. ‘‘We were alone, in the open. Now you’ll be inside a building with a civilian’’

Christine nodded softly, looking up at him. Her heart was beating faster, the dark shadow inside her gnawing at her organs, bellowing in her ears to get away, to push him away, to escape. But she forced herself to stay in place, her hand still on top of his now over her belly, feeling his scorching warmth even through her top.

‘‘I’ll be prudent’’ She felt the rumble against her back when he chuckled, with his chin still on top of her head. ‘‘Don’t laugh at me, I promise I will be careful’’

‘‘No plan resists the contact with the enemy’’ Simon murmured darkly, with a deep sigh. There was something in the back of his skull. Picking at his brain. Something that told him that something wasn’t right, that something didn’t add up. The same feeling he had since Laswell and Gabi explained thee plan back at base.

‘‘We’ll make do’’ Christine shrugged, her fingertips now tracing his knuckles, feeling the scars of past fights engraved in his skin. ‘‘I have a bad feeling about all this though’’

‘‘You too?’’ He chuckled again, relaxing his shoulders slightly. If someone else had the same feeling, maybe he wasn’t that crazy. Or maybe both of them were crazy. He didn’t know what idea amused him the most.

‘‘I always expect the worst…’’ She started saying, but Simon was quick to finish the sentence.

‘‘… that way I’m never surprised’’ He smirked under the mask, glad to hear her quiet laugh. From the other side of the wall, they could hear Soap and Gabi dragging their suitcases to the entrance of the apartment. ‘‘Good to know we’re on the same page’’

‘‘Are we going to be one of those obnoxious…’’ Christine interrupted herself before saying couple. Were they? How could they not? They were acting like one except on the physical sense. She wondered if he would ever get tired of waiting. She wondered if she would get tired of waiting.

Simon felt the same uncertainty at her words, but the way his own brain finished the sentence had him feeling something that he had believed dormant, extinguished, for years.

Hope.

‘‘… obnoxious couples that finish each other’s sentences?’’ He rumbled a low laugh, one of those that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand out and a shiver in her gut.

‘‘Yeah’’ Christine nodded softly, the pink hue on her cheeks a bit darker now and one of her small, shy smiles. The ones that were rare to see and so different from her usual cheeky one. ‘‘One of those that are always together, do everything together, and are absolutely disgusting to see’’

Simon laughed, sincerely for once, and raised his left hand to brush a rebellious strand of her hair back to place.

‘‘You might get tired of me before getting there, lovie’’ He laughed harder when she swatted his arm, pretending to be offended, and pointed a finger at him.

‘‘No refunds, Lieutenant, you’re stuck with this mess’’ Her blush deepened. She felt stupid, he thought it was adorable. His own ears were as red as hers, and the parts of his face that were visible were blushing, too.

Simon leaned forward to brush his covered lips over her ear, pulling her closer to his chest, and grinned to himself when he felt her tremble.

‘‘No refunds, Sergeant’’

Soap started calling from them, and reluctantly, Simon let go of her, straightening up. Christine sighed and checked her hair was in place one last time before starting to gather her toiletries.

‘‘Wheels up in five’’

[cottoncandyswirl828]

Zuma Appreciation Week: Day 7 - Ryder and Zuma

Ah, what could be a better way to round off Zuma Appreciation Week than a tribute to the age-old friendship between a boy and his dog. We don’t really get to see Ryder just hanging out and bonding with the pups anymore, which is a real shame since the bond Ryder has with his pups is clearly a strong one. They all share such a sweet connection with each other and let’s face it; we’re all a little jealous of Ryder for having six adorable talking pups that he gets to spend all his time with. That boy is living every dog lover’s dream. Zuma Appreciation Week has been a lot of work but also so much fun to do, I’m really glad I could do this, so let’s end this on a high note, complete with some headcanoned backstory.

“You won’t get away with this, Moby!”

“And what makes you think you and your little Paw Patrol can stop me?”

Moby swam off in his Moby-mobile, taking with him the magic clam shell of Puplantis he had stolen, with Ryder and Zuma in hot pursuit.

“Hahaha! Without the magic pearls, Puplantis will crumble. Then the mer-pups will have to leave and I can have Puplantis all to myself! No more annoying singing or dancing or big celebrations, just me and my inventions!”

McSquidly gave a squeak of annoyance.

“… And McSquidly too.”

“Not if we have anything to say about it!” Ryder declared, as he and Zuma followed Moby into a system of underwater caves. “Zuma, see if you can find a shortcut so you can get ahead of him, then we’ll have him surrounded.”

“Aye-aye! Ruff! Sonar!”

Using his pup pack’s sonar device, Zuma quickly mapped out the cave system and found a series of tunnels that could get him in front of Moby.

“Bingo.”

Ryder and Zuma split up, with Ryder continuing to pursue Moby as Zuma slipped into a tunnel that Moby had failed to notice.

“Come on, McSquidly, we’ve already shaken one of them, just have to lose the other and we’ll be home free.”

A sharp turn caused Moby’s vehicle to hit the cave wall. Not enough to damage it, but enough to shake McSquidly from his perch on top of the sub, causing the squid to reach their tentacles over the windshield of the Moby-mobile.

“McSquidly! I can’t see!”

The Moby-mobile started to swerve wildly out of control, banging against the walls and ceiling of the cave as Moby continued to try and steer blindly.

“That’s far enough Moby- Woah!” Zuma popped out of the side tunnel, blocking Moby’s path which led to the two vehicles colliding. Zuma was more than grateful that Ryder had built their vehicles to be able to withstand heavy blows, otherwise that crash could’ve been pretty bad for him.

“You again? Where did you come from?”

“The jig is up Moby! Now hand over the clam shell, it doesn’t belong to you.”

Moby growled as he looked between Ryder and Zuma, realizing he was trapped between them. Then a sudden rumble shook the cave.

“Ryder! My sonar says the caves are starting to collapse, we gotta get out of here!”

Rocks started to fall from the roof of the cave, causing a small opening to form. Moby smiled as he saw his chance to escape.

“McSquidly! Ink ‘em!”

McSquidly nodded and shot a cloud of ink at Ryder and Zuma, blinding them. Meanwhile, Moby slammed his vehicle into the crack in the ceiling, making it big enough for him to escape but causing more of the cave to collapse in the process.

“And for good measure…” Moby used his sub to push a large boulder over the hole he created, preventing Zuma and Ryder from following him.

As Moby made his escape, more rocks came tumbling down on Ryder and Zuma, landing on Ryder’s sub and trapping him in a pile of rubble.

“Ryder!”

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. You need to go after Moby and get the clam shell back.”

“No way! I’m not leaving you here in a crumbling cave!”

“But Moby’s getting awa-”

“Moby can wait! You can’t! This cave is coming down fast, if you stay here, you’ll be crushed!”

“So will you. I’ll be fine, just get out of here.”

Zuma sighed, he should’ve known it was less about catching Moby and more about getting him out of danger.

“I’m not leaving this cave without you! Either both of us get out of here or neither of us do! Now let me get rid of those rocks.”

Zuma used the claw arms of his sub to lift the rocks off Ryder’s sub, while using his own sub to block any more rocks from falling on Ryder.

“Be careful, Zuma!”

Once all the rocks were cleared, Ryder tried to start up his sub, but one of the larger rocks had crushed one of the sub’s propellers.

“Dang it. Go on without me, I’ll only slow you down.”

Instead of arguing, Zuma just grabbed Ryder's sub with one of his claw arms and began dragging him through the cave.

"Zuma! You won't make it out in time with my sub weighing you down! Please, just leave me, I can find my own way out."

"No way! If I was in your position, you wouldn't have left me, so I'm not leaving you!"

The caves were beginning to completely collapse at this point. Zuma had to swerve and dodge falling boulders as he towed Ryder through the cave, doing a double-take every time there was a near-miss to ensure Ryder hadn't been hit.

The cave entrance was finally in sight, but rocks and boulders were quickly piling up, threatening to block their way out.

"You won't be fast enough to get out before the entrance is blocked if you keep towing me! You have to let me go, I'll call for back-up and Rubble can-"

"NO! We can make it! We just need to keep going!"

"Zuma, I promise I'll be fine, just-"

"I'M NOT LEAVING YOU TO DIE IN A CAVE LIKE THEY DID TO ME!"

Zuma pushed his sub's engines to their absolute limit, shooting through the water faster than he'd ever dared to go before and making it out of the cave right before the entrance was blocked completely.

Zuma sighed in relief and let himself relax into the seat of his sub. "See? I told you we'd make it out."

But Ryder gave him a weird look that Zuma couldn't quite place, he seemed... Sad? Worried? Sympathetic? Zuma couldn't find the right words to describe it.

"Zuma... What is it you said about being left in a cave to die?"

"Oh, just a bad memory from my puppyhood is all. You don't need to worry about it."

Ryder wasn't at all convinced. He got out of his sub and gestured for Zuma to do the same, which he reluctantly did.

"That cave you were left in... Was it the same cave I found you in?" Zuma was quiet, but he nodded.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Zuma thought for a moment, and an awkward silence passed between them.

"... I used to live in a shelter for strays. The shelter was pretty understaffed so we didn't get a lot of outdoor time, but one day we were all taken to the beach for a beach day. It was actually the first time I'd ever been to a beach, and I had so much fun. There was so much space to run and play, and I wanted to explore everything, so when I found the cave I just had to see what was inside. But, then there was a cave in. Everything was suddenly pitch black, and I could hear people shouting from the other side. When they realized I was the only one inside, they just... Left me... Said that one tiny pup just wasn't worth the effort to move all those rocks... So they just left me in the cave and went back to the shelter."

Zuma was starting to cry at this point, and Ryder wrapped his arms tightly around his pup.

"I… I just couldn't leave you in there! All alone in a dark cave. I didn't want you to think I didn't care, or that you weren't worth the effort. And I... I didn't want to be alone either. I didn't think I could handle being in another crumbling cave without you there. I was just too scared."

Zuma wrapped his front paws around Ryder’s neck, whimpering and nuzzling his chin as much as their scuba masks would allow.

“Hey, it’s okay, Zuma. Everything’s okay now. And even though you were scared, I’m very proud of you for being brave and for not giving up.”

“You’ll always be worth the effort, Ryder, even if it means being in a dangerous spot, it’ll always be worth it.”

“And you are too, Zuma. Those people made a huge mistake leaving you behind, because they missed out on an amazing pup. You were more than worth the effort it took to find you in that cave. If I could go back in time and do things differently, the only thing I would change is I’d adopt you sooner, before the whole cave disaster happened.”

Zuma smiled, wishing he could wipe the tears from his eyes. “Thanks, Ryder. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that.”

“Anytime, Zuma.”

A beep sounded from Ryder’s pup-pad.

“Ryder!” Chase’s voice called from the other end, “I found Moby and got the clam shell back!”

“Great work, Chase! We’ll meet you back at Puplantis.”

Zuma blushed slightly in embarrassment, he had almost forgotten about Moby and the clam shell.

“Glad Chase was able to catch him after I let him get away.”

“You didn’t ‘let’ him get away, you saw there was a more immediate danger and took care of that first.”

“Well, maybe next time don’t be so insistent on being a martyr.”

“No promises.”

[sheriffgrimes-archerdixon]

We are the ones who live

Hi loves! So sorry for being away for so long. This imagine has been sitting in my drafts for a whole year but I hope it’s okay… hope you’ve all been keeping well! Love you all! Don’t forget to send in requests!!

Tw: mention of attempted suicide but nothing in detail.

Surviving the apocalypse was one thing but surviving in it and kicking ass was another. But today was one of those days where everything was going wrong. Your feet silently lead you through the broken building, clambering up the stairs as silently as possible your eyes searching around. You had gone on a run with Maggie, rick and Daryl and a herd of walkers had forced you all to split. Even now a herd abruptly creeping up on you was incredibly out of the blue. “HELP!” A sudden yell came from the top floor of the building and you without even hesitating sprinted up the stairs glass crunching under your shoes before you barged through the door and to the roof seeing two hands clawing at the top of the roof attempting to cling on… what the hell? You quickly and mindlessly walked towards the hands worried that it was a Walker who just hadn’t let go but as you got closer you noticed the familiar brunette. “Maggie—“ you gasped immediately dropping to your knees and grabbing onto her wrists, hers fingers a pale white colour from how hard she was holding on as she panted “y/n… I- I you can let me go… i—“ “no. Enough.” You kept a tight grip on her wrists ignoring the fact that your palms which had grown clammier were not helping keep a grip on her.

You attempted to pull her up with all your strength but it was frankly impossible, having no food or energy in either of your systems it was a recipe for disaster. “Y/n I’m telling you to let go of me.” Maggie begged but you only shook your head. “No.” You spat out Maggie gazing at you sadly before she began slightly moving clearly attempting to get you to let go and suddenly her wrists slipped from your grasp and as if your life flashed before your eyes you without hesitating threw yourself towards her, hand luckily grasping onto Maggie’s forearm you almost all the way off the building— the drop down terrifying. Paralysing. But you kept a tight grip on her “we’re the ones who live Maggie. This is suicide!” You growled out glaring into her eyes. She was being selfish. You kept a tight grip on her wrist— even if you let go of her you would fall face first down due to her weight not evening you out anymore. “Maggie we’re both surviving this.” You said simply your jaw clenched as your arm throbbed slightly your shoulder feeling like it was about to dislocate but you didn’t care. “What the fuck even happened?” You questioned the look on Maggie’s face saying it all… had she tried to commit suicide? You shook your head keeping a tight grip on her until suddenly out of nowhere you felt hands grabbing at your ankles

“What the hell happened?” A rough voice spat out. Rick. Relief swarmed around you “rick don’t pull me back.. Maggie” you choked out being slightly winded from the pressure you had to keep Maggie alive Daryl peering down “rick keep a grip on y/n… I’ve got Maggie.” Daryl said fearlessly, examining the situation before him before finally noticing the building Maggie was dangling from had windows and window ledges. Not big but big enough. He shrugged his crossbow off of his shoulder tossing it on the ground before he easily swung off the edge tiptoeing against the windowsill “Maggie give me your hand. Trust me.” And slowly Maggie agreed grabbing onto Daryl’s hand as he swiftly pulled her close to him, awkwardness there but more pushed down as he quickly helped her return to the roof before he clambered up himself. Rick kept a tight grip on your ankles before he eventually began pulling you back onto the roof until you were flat against the surface again, panting from fear, being face to face with death. A different kind of death like falling to your death was terrifying… rick helped you stand and wasted no time in pulling you in for a tight hug closing his eyes in relief gripping onto you tightly as you held onto him just as tight trembling from adrenaline and fear “don’t do something like that ever again.” He murmured into your ear as he cupped the back of your head not letting you go and you only nodded not being able to promise anything knowing you’d risk your life over and over again for those you love. Eventually you pulled back from rick before hugging Maggie tightly knowing you’d have to keep an eye on her for some time…

“Best get going before we get swarmed.” Daryl grumbled not wanting to disrupt the reunion but he knew damn well the walkers could walk stairs if they really wanted to. Everyone else seemed to agree and Rick placed a hand on the small of your back “Maggie in front with Daryl” he demanded so he could keep an eye on you both before he lead you down the stairs “what was she doing?” He questioned to you quietly and you only shrugged truly not knowing, rick nodding in understanding. “I’ll keep an eye on her.” He murmured keeping his hand on the small of your back and you nodded smiling slightly. No matter how many days passed in the apocalypse you would forever be grateful for being so lucky to have Rick in your life.

I know this was short sorry! Trying to get back into writing!! Send in requests pls!!!

[berrymascarpone]

A Brief Tour of Seireitei

So I’ve been reading the Soul Society Arc again after finishing the Bleach manga a while back and now that all the plot tension has already been resolved, I’ve found myself looking at the scenery. And by scenery, I mean the architecture and city planning of Seireitei.

Now, the good thing is Ichigo and co really get around a bit in this arc, not to mention the cuts to the captains and lieutenants doing there thing in the background, so here’s a brief tour following along with them.

The first thing we notice about Seireitei is that clearly they spend much more on infrastructure in the city than in Rukongai. That is where all your tax money has gone folks, to nice tiled roofs, whitewashed walls, fancy windows.

But also, considering the magically appearing wall that just straight up falls from the sky when you go near, it’s probably a good idea to have some way of demarcating where you have to stay away from in order to stay un-pancaked.

(Also electrical wires? Just what era is their infrastructure from?)

It looks like there’s a pretty open layout here, but later on, the streets get more labrythine, with long walls splitting the space into narrow roadways.

However, from above, it appears that these complicated halls are actually just blocks of mazes, separated by normal roads. Are they compounds? Is this just the geography of that particular area? Are they individual houses? Who lives there?

And although the streets look pretty narrow from these angles, another ground angle shows that they are actually pretty wide. But also, you might run into something like, uh this.

We all knew the Gotei 13 was pretty fucked up, but uh, yeah. Makes me wonder which earlier generation captain had this installed.

Anyways, after destroying many of those walls, Ichigo and Ganju eventually make it below the uniformly tiled floors to make it to the sewers (or are they storm drains? They feel very tall for sewers.

These remind me somewhat of the Tokyo Metropolitan Area Outer Underground Discharge Channel, which I had to look up once for a fic, so that makes me think it’s more of a stormwater system. Also, apparently they don’t mark their manhole covers in Seireitei? And it looks kinda fragile too, what with only that tiny little ledge to hold up such a big board. What happens when a particularly heavy person (and we know there are some real big boys in the Gotei 13) steps on one of these tiles and falls through? I imagine Komamura and Zaraki Kenpachi have learned to memorize the locations these manhole covers, or they accidentally step through the floor every few blocks.

Once we exit the underwater canals, we arrive at Sōkyoku Hill, the most scenic view of Seireitei, and also where they lock up and execute their prisoners. I guess they would at least get a good view before they die?

Not only is it on a hill, but the architecture takes quite a brutalist turn. All square blocks and flat tops (except for the nice little row of towers up there? And also a few sky bridges, for the scenic view.)

As a side note, this area appears to be surrounded by several warehouse-like buildings. Not sure if it’s actual warehouses, and this is the prison/industrial district of Seireitei, but interesting to note.

But also, when Ichigo and Renji absolutely wreck a few of these buildings in their fight they appear to contain…absolutely nothing?? Like not even some broken furniture, or debris.

Anyways, after a bit of regrouping back in the underground waterways (which also have some room-like areas a bit further away from the water…for…reasons…) our heroes finally venture forth into brutalist architecture wonderland.

I assume this area is a prison complex, since, judging by the texture, it appears to be made out of Sekkiseki, the reiatsu-suppressing stone. Also interesting to note, the buildings appear to be placed haphazardly, at odd angles. Is this to confuse invaders and/or escaped prisoners? Is it because their city planning consisted of Yamamoto scribbling out something on a napkin? Is it because this hill was one big sekkiseki deposit and they had to carve buildings out from the ground, so their planning had to follow the natural contours? And why is there absolutely no one here? Like the empty warehouses, this area seems to be abandoned. Are there not enough prisoners, or did the last crisis in Soul Society wipe out enough people that there aren’t enough to fill these houses? Is it like those fake buildings that are actually subway stations and the top part is just for show?

Anyways, it seems like I’ve hit the limit on the number of images I can add on the mobile app, so I’ll continue in a part 2 once I get around to it.

[respondedinkind]

closed starter for @bloodstainedstar

Khan's plan to smugge his crew into safety by putting them into the very weapons he had designed had failed on him; Just when he'd thought he could do it, that everything would go according to plan, the promise of a better future so close he could taste it on the tip of his tongue...

...He'd been discovered by one of Marcus men, and that man had managed to notify the Admiral about his intentions before Khan's hands had brought an end to the unfortunate one's life.

The mentioned one is dead now, yes, but security is onto him and Khan has no other choice but to escape alone, without his people, the ones he holds most dear - because if he doesn't, he will end up being stripped and tied to a biobed, turned into a slab of meat that gives all it has for Marcus to use for his own, sick plans to start a Klingon war.

As much as it pains him, the thought of leaving without the men and women he'd promised to protect - he runs, leaves, manages to steal a shuttle and, somehow, ends up in space. Time feels like a bit of a blur, so Khan doesn't recall every single moment that has happened - he's here, and he has to make some new plans---

---But then, something else happens.

Suddenly, the Universe... opens up in front of him. Quite literally so, as if it tears itself apart, causing blue eyes to widen at the foreign sight. Khan has never seen something like this and he's stunned by the sight, lips parting...

That's when everything happens in such a quick succession that it's hard for even his superior brain to keep up; A white light appears, swallows him, his shuttle shakes and a thousand warning alerts pop up, vanish, pop up before all of the systems are failing. Khan blinks and squints, squeezes his eyes shut at a sudden G-force causing bile to rise inside his throat---

---And then, like that, his shuttle is falling toward another planet that looks remarkably similar to Earth.

What...?

Khan, still confused by everything that has just happened, scrambles to try and get the systems back online but to no avail. The continent grows with the seconds that pass and he gets closer, closer, closer; His shuttle is briefly picked up by a current of wind, it seems, allows it to sail a bit but it's still very much about to crash-land in the middle of what seems to be a rather big city - part of him wonders if no one is actually noticing the aircraft falling like this, if, perhaps, he's too fast for any defense system to react.

He does know, though, that he needs to leave this vessel before he'll hit something with it - bright irises scan what he can see from his position and he makes a split-second-decision he isn't too sure about whether he'll regret it or not.

But, he actually opens the door to his right and---

---Jumps.

The shuttle continues to fly without him, lands somewhere a but further away while Khan flies through the air, toward what appears to be a rooftop of a bulding; He curls his body, lands with his shoulder first and rolls himself off this way, but the impact is still quite rough. He rolls and rolls and rolls, the force of his movement pulling him along - and he manages to hold onto the edge of the building at the very last second before he falls, fingers grabbing onto the stone as he dangles off the side.

Blinking, gasping, Khan needs a second to process this, the whole of what has just happened; He groans, then pulls himself up and back on top of the roof, still catching his breath while allowing his gaze to roam as he crouches there...

...Where the fuck is he? It looks like earth from what he can tell. But... This city is unfamiliar to him.

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

Prompt #30: Two Heads Are Better Than One

(CW: blood, gore, violence)

-----

When hunting vampires, two heads are better than one.

(old Tonawatan proverb)

*******

The night had gone to the hells in a handbasket. With a ribbon attached.

"ΑΑΑΑΗΗΗΗΗ! ΑΛΛΑΑΑΗΗΗΗ!! AAAAAAHHHH!!"

"Shut up!" Mathye bellowed, but he knew it'd fall on deaf ears. The Dustwatch deputy hadn't stopped screaming since the vampire attack had begun. How they'd not passed out for lack of air, the doctor didn't know and really couldn't question at that particular moment.

"ΑAAAΗΗΗΗ!! ΑΑΑΑΗΗΗΗ!!! ΑΑΑΗΗΗΗΗ!!!"

Nor could he pause what he was doing to make them shut up. With a growl, Mathye threw out more little seed-balls, channeling Weave directly into them. Plants exploded into life and surged to more than twice their normal size-blackthorn, buckthorn, hawthorn and rowan, he needed to create a hedge between himself and the undead. Garbled screams and curses came from the vampire thralls that ran straight into the still growing plants, and with satisfaction Mathye watched as the hedge continued to grow and push forward. The only problem was now that he couldn't see what was in front of him-but at this point, it didn't matter.

This isn't going to stand up to their leader, however. Dimly Mathye registered the screaming had stopped-and risked a quick glance behind him. The Dustwatch deputy had fainted, and the rest of the town's makeshift hunting group had fled.

Sonva-

Mat! Augustine's voice cracked to life on the linkpearl. Mathye!

"I'm here, I'm here!" Mathye lifted his right hand to his ear, while he shoved the left into another pouch strapped to his waist.

What happened!

"The remedy didn't work, that's what happened! The fool overpowered these numbskulls and went screaming towards long-in-the-tooth out there!" The oldest child of a local wealthy farmer, bitten by one of the higher-tier vampires that haunted the region. The plan had been to keep them drugged while the remedy to purge the vampire's toxin from his system did its job...but the local townsfolk had decided to use the victim as bait to lure in the undead. Too late Kemakka had heard of the mad scheme and had sent Mathye and Augustine to help or in this case, kidnap the victim and get them back to Stonewood, where they could receive better care. However, the vampire had attacked the town on two fronts with a small army of ashkin-and forced the brothers to split up, along with the town's defenders. And while Mathye had his hands full with a panicking Dustwatch deputy and terrified townspeople, the vampire's victim had broken free of their bonds and overpowered their guards. Too late Mathye had noticed and could only watch as the vampire tenderly embraced their lover...before ripping out their throat in a shower of blood and gore.

That had started the Dustwatch deputy's screaming.

Then the vampire's thralls had swarmed, and Mathye had found his hands full. The last he'd seen of the vampire, they'd been stuffing their victim's heart into their mouth.

I'm not that far away! Mathye spun around again, taking in his surroundings. His eyes spotted something perfect-a two-story building, complete with upper balcony and even better, a ladder to the roof.

"Hey Augustine?"

Mat?

"I have a bad idea." Silence over the linkpearl, and then the air crackled with the most profane oaths Augustine knew. Mathye winced-some were borderline blasphemy; he'd be setting out a few apology offerings on behalf of his sibling-

"Curse later! Get on top of that two-story!" He barked, triggering the pearl to keep it active. Right hand now free, he reached for his herb-knife-just as voidflame attacked the hedge in front of him. The plants screamed as they died, their voices stabbing into Mathye like a thousand blades-their agony was his agony. Unable to stand, let alone form a coherent thought, the doctor collapsed to his hands and knees, struggling to draw in a breath. The stink of voidflame and the smell of burning wood filled his nose, and his stomach roiled.

"Well, well." A silky voice purred in the air above him. "One of the Bishop brothers! I never thought I'd be so lucky!" Mathye glared at the leather-patent shoes in front of him, fingers curling into the dirt as he tried to keep breathing.

"You're the sour one though." The world around Mathye blurred. Suddenly he was dangling in the air, fingers tightening around his neck. Seed balls fell from one of his pouches, the stitching had come undone.

"If I bite you, you'll probably give me indigestion." The vampire blinked as Mathye started to wheeze with laughter. "What's so funny?"

"Indigestion." Mathye whispered, his voice raspy. "That's about to be a real big problem for you right now."

"Huh?"

Mathye reached for the Weave again-strings of it coming from the seeds that were in the vampire's belly and shoved his power into them. The vampire's eyes widened-and then it started to scream. Roses and nightshade erupted from its flesh, stems and flowers engulfing the creature's body, choking off it's scream as they bloomed from its' throat. Mathye suddenly fell to the ground as the fingers gripping him let go, and he watched as the vampire's head suddenly disappeared in a bloom of flower petals and black blood.

Augustine had made it to the roof.

Mat!

"I'm okay, I'm fine..." Mathye wheezed. "Just...need a nap. And a shower. And a drink." He watched as the gruesome display in front of him collapsed under its own weight.

"Maybe all three at the same time."

[griseldabanks]

Oh, and to mix it up, how about 50 for Din and Grogu?

Prompt: "I know that face."

Let Me Count the Ways ask game

Contains mild spoilers for The Mandalorian season 3.

It wasn't the crash of thunder that woke him, nor the pounding of the rain on the roof. No, it was a small voice that cried out for just a moment before being stifled under a blanket.

Din's eyes popped open, his hand flying to the blaster at his side. Lightning flashed, for a brief moment illuminating the room where he lay. No intruders. The green light over the door indicated that all security systems were still online. No immediate danger.

But then a crash of thunder split the air, and Din heard a tiny squeak from the other side of the room. Turning his head, he switched on night vision and eyed the quivering ball of blankets on the small bed in the corner.

“Grogu?”

Slowly, the blankets lowered, until Grogu's enormous eyes peered over at him. He let out a tiny, plaintive squeak, his ears drooping almost straight down.

Din sighed, but a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth despite himself. “I know that face,” he groaned. “Yes, you can sleep with me. Come on.”

Thunder seemed to rip the very air in two. With a shriek, Grogu hurled himself across the room in a Force-propelled leap. His small body smacked against Din's breastplate with a painful sound, but Grogu didn't seem to mind.

“Careful,” Din chided, shifting Grogu from one arm to the other as he unfastened his breastplate and set it aside. “You'll give yourself a concussion or something.”

With a whimper, Grogu buried his face in Din's chest, his tiny claws poking Din through fistfuls of his shirt. He was trembling so hard, it was like holding a small motor.

“Hey, hey,” Din whispered, settling back against the wall and pulling his blanket up again, tucking it around Grogu's small body. “You have another nightmare?”

After a tense moment of listening to the thunder dying away, Grogu gave a single nod.

There'd been a lot of those lately. Din wasn't sure what they were about—it wasn't like Grogu could tell him—but he had a feeling it was something about the darkness in the kid's past. As if what he'd been through recently wasn't enough.

The thunder and lightning didn't help, either. It didn't rain too often on Nevarro, but when it did, it came with all the fury of a whole fleet of Star Destroyers. It was enough to make any child tremble in the middle of the night, even if it didn't remind them of blaster fire.

“It's okay,” he murmured, cupping his hands around Grogu's small body. “I've got you. Nothing can hurt you now.”

Grogu sniffled, looking up at him with huge eyes that glistened in the dim light. He raised his arms, letting out a warbling babble that almost sounded like words, but none that Din knew. Grogu's nails clinked against the helmet as he made insistent little grunts.

“Sorry, kid,” Din said gently. “You know I can't let anyone see my face.”

Grogu grabbed his huge, bat-like ears and pulled them down over his eyes.

Din let out a long sigh, but they both knew the battle was already won. How had it come to this? Din Djarin, wrapped around the tiny, clawed finger of the kid he'd once been paid to kill.

“Okay,” he said reluctantly. “But keep your eyes closed. You're supposed to be asleep anyway.”

Grogu obediently closed his eyes, settling into a more comfortable position against Din's chest. Once he was sure Grogu wasn't peeking, Din pulled off his helmet and laid it on the bedside table, where he could easily reach it if necessary.

The night air was cool against his cheeks, but it was fresh and clean. Even inside the house, he thought he could smell the rain that pattered against the windows. Thunder growled, menacing but slowly retreating. Another shiver passed through Grogu's body.

Din absently pressed his lips to the rough, leathery skin on top of Grogu's head. He could feel Grogu's warmth through his lips, could feel hot puffs of breath against his neck. Such a small being, but so alive.

A small hand reached up and rested against his cheek as he nuzzled closer, finding a warmer spot under Din's chin. Grogu couldn't speak. He couldn't put words to any of the thoughts plaguing him. He couldn't talk about any of his fears or hopes or wishes.

But they could do this.

[scribblers-shadowlands-arc]

So blood work results came in.

Prog - 8.6 ng/ml roughly 11 hours after last intake

Estradiol 323 pmol/l roughly 14-16 hours after last intake (which is decent number I say, specifically didn't slap any gel on morning to look what levels will be) (plus my tits still growing okay so I not concerned at all with those numbers they in perfectly okay levels😌)

T - 4.97 nmol/l which is just 0.97 above of CIS wome levels (proly white european women actually

Some thoughts. Combo of 5mg estradiol gel and 400 mg prog just enough for me to keep testosterone in check

However I am not sure that I need that much prog in my system. It's fight with T for same receptors when it's enters system, same with estrodiol (if I remember correctly, might be wrong).

So by having a decent amount of prog in my system, even with bit higher T level I may not experience effects of T cause it just sits around doing nothing cause prog bullied it away from its receptors that allow T to have any effect (transmasc btw don't just relly on general level of t analysis. Do check up other things to. You could have levels through the roof but not experience much effect because other things in play. Blood work is damn complicated topic to write from a top of my head)

And there no guarantee that T level even get significantly higher then it's now. With 200mg prog it was at 8 nmol/l which mean 200 extra knocked it down by 3. Extra 1.5 per 100 mg or even worse after 300mg we hit a wall and dampening of T levels make a nose dive

Which lead me to the point of my yesterday rant. There many reasons for me to experience brain fog.

Inconsistent diet and sleep - unlikely, that happen not that often to be of any significance

Burn out - highly likely but it's not like I wasn't burned out for like last 4 years. It may reinforce what I have now but ilat this point it's not a root of a problem (it kinda is but until I change my job and won't start art commission for living I don't see anyway to address it)

And progesterone - one of things about prog is that have sedative effect. For a few month I was doing split dose on morning and evening and it sedated the ever living shit out of me. For 2 month I didn't wanted ANYTHING. Hard to concentrate pay attention - oh my adhd was a field trip those two month.

After switching back for one intake before sleep stuff get a bit better but fog not gone completely.

So for now I pick prog as a main culprit of this issue. I gonna lower dose down to 300 mg for next 2 month then do another blood work (though this time I'm gonna some e-gel on morning. I wanna see his my day to day levels behave too. Also if I remember correctly prog not only suppress T but E too? May mistaken something but after increasing prog my E levels dropped too)

So anyway figuring out correct doses of meds take time and mistakes could be make but I feel better then before. Life is great tits and hips are growing and maybe soon I would have some energy back. Yaaay

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Five Fics Friday: January 12/24

Happy Friday everyone!! I hope you had a wonderful week, and are ready to enjoy some more fic recs to get you started on the weekend! Enjoy!!

RECENTLY BOOKMARKED

Spare Parts by Raina_at (E, 63,497 w., 10 Ch. || 24th Century / Futurism AU || Post TRF, Pre-TRF Relationship, Case Fic, Mutual Pining, Estrangement, Reconciliation, Science Fiction, Reunion, Nightmares, Angry John, Cybernetic John, Emotional Discussions / Heart to Heart, POV John, Scars, Past Drug Use, Forehead Touching, Emotional Lovemaking, Kissing, Apologies, Kidnapping, Rescue Mission, BAMF John, Bed Sharing, Top Sherlock) – Two years ago, Sherlock Holmes jumped off the roof of New London Hospital. Two months ago, he walked into John's clinic as if no time had passed at all. John hasn't seen him since. But then Sherlock knocks on John's door with a case he can't say no to, and while figuring out why the biggest manufacturer or synthetic limbs in the System is going after veterans, they also need to find out whether there's a way to fix what's broken between them. Part 1 of Realigning Gravity

Fade To Black by twistedthicket1 (M, 93,389 w., 29 Ch. || Split Personality Disorder / DID, Action, Romance, Violence, Implied Rape/Non-Con, BAMF John, Fluff and Angst, Baskerville, Human Experimentation, PTSD, Implied Self Harm, Trauma Amnesia, Past Child Sexual Abuse, Protective Sherlock, Smoking, Meddling Mycroft, Past Victor/Sherlock, Gay Sherlock, Sherlock’s Past, First Kiss/Time) – John Watson believes one day he'll just fade. That he'll drown in the black spaces of his mind, and that one day he will no longer exist. It's always been like this, the dark spots marking out moments in his life he can't remember. Where for just a moment he's someone else. Having a Dissociative identity disorder, he can't even be entirely sure he's really who he says he is. Then he meets Sherlock Holmes. A brilliant detective who when he looks at you can read your entire life story. John is immediately fascinated and afraid, half-wondering if maybe Sherlock can see the other personalities in him and half terrified of the thought of him finding out. Becoming his flatmate seems at once to be a wonderful and horrible idea. Yet as John's Blackouts become more and more severe and his other personalities begin to truly awaken and show themselves with Sherlock's help, the two soon discover that sometimes even the kindest person can harbour a demon best left untouched inside of them. Because not all of John's other personalities play nicely and some may be hiding secrets best left undisturbed...

MARKED FOR LATER

Hand Me the Salt, Love? by topsyturvy_turtely (G, 554 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Pet Names, Flustered Sherlock, Cooking, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Fluff Without Plot) – John is cooking. Sherlock is not helping. Until...

Locked Room by Calais_Reno (T, 8,346 w., 2 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting AU || Pool Scene, Mystery, Near Death Experience, Drug Addiction, Serious Injuries, Temporary Amnesia, POV Alternating, Love Confessions, Happy Ending) – John wakes up in a locked room, unable to remember how he got here. The last thing he remembers is his hands covered in blood, trying to keep a soldier from dying. His roommate also seems to be suffering from amnesia, and has decided that John is a delusion. Part 33 of Just Johnlock

Walk of Shame by 72reasons (E, 14,355+ w., 9/? Ch. || WiP || Alternate First Meeting AU || Meet-Ugly, Bisexual John, Gay Sherlock, Alternating POV, Sad John, Suicidal Thoughts, Casual Sex, Strangers to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Threesome, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Frottage, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex) – John is just back from the war and wanders the city wondering what he’s going to do. One of his distractions is having casual sex with a beautiful, but annoying, woman. Sherlock usually refrains from sex, but in trying to stay sober he indulges in it now and again. Sherlock meets John on the street and sparks fly. Casual sex is one thing, but what about something more?