#save me a slice nonnie :3

[rinhaler]

i bought a sukuna heart shaped cake for tomorrow lmao i'm down bad the crazy thing is that i didn’t even liked sukuna until i started following you😔😔

omg ykw i wasnt even that into sukuna until i made this blog we've all been the downfall of each other LMAOOOOO

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Nostalgia hit so hard the trauma came back....can I ask for some fluffy fics to help cope?

Hey Nonny,

I'm so so sorry you're having a rough go!

Gonna use your ask to post up my next Tooth Rotting Fluff list to help you feel better!

*HUGS*

TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF Pt 8

See also:

All Fluff Fics Masterlist (Oct. 2021)

Tooth Rotting Fluff

Hugs & Cuddles and Tooth-Rotting Fluff (Pt. 2)

Hugs & Cuddles Pt. 2 / Tooth-Rotting Fluff Pt. 3 / Est. Relationship Pt. 2

Tooth Rotting Fluff Pt. 4

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

Tooth-Rotting Fluff Pt. 6

Tooth-Rotting Fluff Pt. 7

Octopus by glass_rose_paperweight (G, 705 w., 1 Ch. || Established Relationship, Fluff, Bed Sharing, Limpet Sherlock) – A week after Sherlock and John finally get together, and John is finding sharing a bed with Sherlock Holmes to be ... difficult, sometimes. If not downright suffocating.

Mizzle by MrsNoggin (K, 1,233 w., 1 Ch || Friendship, Fluff, Platonic Johnlock, Humour, Slice of Life) – John can't decide if it's raining or not. Sherlock doesn't understand.

Here to Stay by MockJayPhoenix12 (K, 1,574 w., 1 Ch. || Post Reunion, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Headache, Bed Sharing, Care Taker Sherlock, Hand Holding, Fluff) – On Sherlock's first day home, John wakes with a migraine.

Evermore by SosoHolmesWatson (G, 2,068 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4,  5-Year-Old Rosie, Love Confessions, Song Fic, Parentlock, Oblivious John, Pining Sherlock, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Disney Songs, Beauty and the Beast) – For the past years, John and Sherlock have lived at Baker Street again, raising Rosie together--as friends and nothing more. Ever since the little girl has watched her first Disney movie, she is obsessed with princesses. When John comes home one day, he finds his friend and his daughter in the middle of a reenactment of her current favourite. Part 1 of Made of Music

The Imminent Danger of a Tumblr-Night by Loveismyrevolution (T, 2,135 w., 1 Ch. || Tumblr Fics, Friends to Lovers, Sherlock is Out of His Depth, Humour, Fluff, Pining Sherlock, Military Kink, POV Sherlock) – Sherlock gets into trouble when he pretends to know all about John's favourite social media site - tumblr. To save face he seeks help from one of the bloggers and gains more answers than he had aimed for.

Unquantifiable by 221b_hound (M, 2,799 w. 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Sherlock/Sally Friendship, Grumpy John, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Pet Names, Texting, Sweet Sherlock, Princess Bride References) – John remains a terrible and foul-tempered patient, but he does try to make up for it with pet names and text message silliness. In the meantime, Sally Donovan visits Baker Street for a hint about the Milverton case, and has to deal with a Sherlock Holmes who can't find words big enough to thank her for saving John's life at the warehouse. For afters, there's a viewing of The Princess Bride. Part 33 of the Unkissed series

Living Musical by VeeTheRee (G, 4,149 w. 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Hobbies, Summer, Song Fic, POV Sherlock, Painting, Play Fighting, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Love Declarations, Hair Petting, Promise of Forever) – A one-shot of John and Sherlock being domestic during summer. There is paint, fluff, and music from Imagine Dragons, namely from the album 'Speak To Me', specific song in this one-shot is 'Living Musical'. Part 1 of the Happy Fluffy Johnlock Time series

Date Night by inevitably_johnlocked (G, 4,451 w., 1 Ch. || Anxious / Worried Sherlock, Caring John, Schmoopy Fluff, Fidget Cube, Baking / Cooking, Date Night, Established Relationship, POV Sherlock Holmes, Understanding John, Grumpy Sherlock, John’s Bum, Kisses, Hugs, Domestic Fluff, Touching, Hair Petting, Light Humour) – It's John and Sherlock's first Date Night as an official couple and Sherlock needs it to be PERFECT. Mrs Hudson helps. Part 7 of I-J's Tumblr Ficlet Collection

You're a Doctor, Fix me by edken (K+, 8,792 w., 2 Ch. || Humour, Romance, Sick Sherlock) – Sherlock doesn't do anything halfway, and that includes getting sick. John nurses a very sick flatmate back to health using cuddles, forehead kisses, and a massage. Humor, and fluff promised as always, but also some character analysis because who doesn't love that?

To be loved by Strange_johnlock (E, 12,436 w., 8 Ch. || Post S3, Established Relationship, First Person POV Sherlock, Pet Names, Soft Sherlock, Mild ADHD, Protective John, Captain Watson, Body Appreciation, Bottomlock, Rough Sex, Travelling for Holidays, Introspection, Sherlock Loves John So Much It Hurts) – John is so deeply integrated into the work, both as my conductor of light, and as a great shot with a vicious right hook who tackles men -and women- no matter their size all in my defense. He protects me with all he can without question, and this loyalty is surely more than I deserve. Or: Sherlock is counting his blessings.

[pedrospatch]

hey love! I don’t want to come off rude, I love all of your fics sm!! what are your plans for fall into temptation? if you’ve already answered this I’m sorry! 💕

hi! you're not coming off as rude at all nonnie 🤍

my plans are to finish it, but i do not want to give a date because i cannot meet a deadline to save my life. someone could hold me at knifepoint (joel) and threaten "finish this fic by the date you said it would be finished or you die!" and i'd be like "slice me like a pot roast dude cause it ain't gonna happen"

what i'm trying to say is, i definitely do plan on posting part 3 which is the final chapter and i am aiming for sooner rather than later. thank you for being so sweet bby!

[kuroosdarling]

Happy sleepover saturday Aims! What are some of your fave fics that your moots have written and why?? I need some recs lol

ooo !!! happy sleepover saturday nonnie <33 EEE im so excited for this hehe

sorry this took so long !! here are a few of my fave fics by some of my moots <33 all of my moots are seriously so talented 🤧 if i could fit every single one on here i could !!! love all of you sm <3

RECS:

please respect the rules of their blogs before reading and interacting with their fics <333

first convention by @sweetkoshi - akaashi x reader

this one is so much fun to read lol. kat's characterization for akaashi is spot on and i love the idea of him wandering around a convention. also all the descriptions in this fic are so good it feels like you're really there walking around the con hehe she’s an amazing writer! also PLEASE check out her nanami fics.. lowkey debated tagging them all but omg they’re all so good.

you'll never be rid of me by @myheroesaretired - ex! gojo x reader.

PLS okay so this one had my heart racing lowkey lol. i just love the idea of ex!gojo coming to save the day. i'll eat it up every time especially if dear nesi is writing it!! all her fics feel like a lil movie playing in my head. i literally go through her masterlist all the time bc i love the way she writes !’

we’re gonna be the talk of the town by @mattsunkawa - suna x reader: royalAU

okay so !! echo is a fantastic writer and her royal AUs are always so amazing. the descriptions in this piece are all so beautiful. honestly all of her writing is!! everything she writes will easily captivate your attention and have you wanting more. you’ll never be disappointed reading echos fics and she’ll have you falling in love with anyone she writes for (even when it’s her beautiful angsty ones).

vows - kuroo x reader by @hyeque

SCREAMS. okay so risu always writes so so well!! i love reading anything she writes, she's amazing fr. but this one left especially such a lasting impression on me lol. its so raw and beautiful and i just love rereading it hehe. marrying tetsu is literally the dream <3 and the way risu writes him ??! even better !!! please check out all her fics, you’ll fall in love with each one.

okay, bambi by @jeankirsteinsgirl - jean x reader

holy. moly. this story has me in a chokehold fr. aims writes so beautifully and i hang on to every word she writes. im in awe of how well she captures each and every scene. i connect to this story so so much. i’ve never felt so heard and understood in my life lol. seriously my favorite series ever. i’ve reread it like 5 times and i’ll still go back and read it. it’s such a place of comfort and feels so safe even though it deals with darker content. like it literally changed my life lol. i can literally go on and on forever but i highly suggest this series, even if you aren’t in the aot fandom.

ferris wheel first kiss by @writingbymoonlight - kuroo x reader

EEEE okay so i literally adore this fic with my whole heart LOL. it's just so so precious. going on a date with kuroo at the amusement park?? yup sign me up!! such a lovely fluffy lil fic that makes you feel all warm<3 luna is the queen when it comes to slice of life !! she’s such a spectacular writer! also check out her suna fic omg !! i almost tagged that one but i had to go with our bby kuroo <3

daydream in blue by @ohtokki - semi x reader

eee !! this one is so fun and amazing lol making semi semi feel pretty?? SIGN ME UP. laura really has a way with words and captures every moment so well!! i honestly have reread this a few times just because of how much i love it. & all the details that go into it OMGGG <3 everything she writes will have you simping for character you didn’t know you needed to be simping for !!

daydreaming by @epkatn - hinata x reader

i looove this fic sm !! everything K writes has such a nice flow and the level of detail that goes into it is so so beautiful. this fic especially was so cute n fun to read. i’ve def reread this one a few times hehe all of her works are so spectacular and she really is an amazing writer <3

flicker by @kurootosis - kuroo x reader

okay so to this day, this fic is one of my fave kuroo fics ever lol. the way lem writes, especially kuroo, feels so real and authentic. this fic had me at the edge of my seat the whole time i was reading it. so many emotions and the pay off was so worth it OMG. i’ve reread this one a few times and im gonna go back to reread it again (also bc i don’t think i reblogged it from her new blog </3)

when you get jealous by @meloomi - sakusa x reader

okay!! so this fic had me falling in love with omi lol. the way that mizu writes her man is SO SO GOOD. you can feel the love she has for him pour into every word fr. this fic was just so cute and i loved rereading it hehe mizu is very talented and i always get excited when she posts!

blanket burrito by @cup-of-fluff - bokuto x reader

please !! this fic had me fall in love with bokuto all over again pls. i literally love him and when i first read this i had to wrap myself up in a blanket too. (was bummed that bokuto himself didn’t do it for me but whateves </3) hehe luna is so so talented and i love reading her works !!!

morning glory by @lunaevangeline - atsumu x reader

aaa this one was literally so fun and cute to read. domestic atsumu >>> !!! luna has sm amazing fics it was hard to pick just one but tbh i think this one was one of the first i’ve read from her so it feels fitting hehe. she is such a wonderful writer!!!

i hope it’s okay i tagged you guys <3 i love reading all your works!! i love all my dear moots and if i didn’t get a chance to put you on this post, i’m sending you extra smooches because you are all so talented and i cherish y’all sm <33

come to the sleepover!!

[copias-thrall]

How would Mary goore react to hurting someone he genuinely cares about? I absolutely Love your writing!💕

Hello, nonny! Thank you, I love this ask!

This was going to be  alist, but it got away from me! 😅 

Enjoy 😘 

It wasn’t anything big.

Just a few of Mary’s favorite beers (the craft kind—not the shitty beer he drank on his shoestring budget), some of that chronic shit you’d scored and have been saving for a special occasion, and a VHS box set of horror movie classics.

***

Mary comes in and out of your life at will, and that was something you accepted—knowing he was As Is or not at all. And honestly—no, really—you liked that. You had your own shit going on, and being Mary’s expected caregiver was NOT something you wanted to add to that list.

(If someone else wanted to try to tame him and pick up after him, well…kudos to them. Less work for you.)

Mary showed up on your pivotal days and he rubbed your feet and always invited you out to trivia. You'd held him when he was coming down from a bad trip and listened to his grievances and gave him a place to stay when he was persona non grata at his own. And in a way, that made you always feel like #1 in Mary’s world…and that was good enough for you.

***

A few months ago, Mary had been lying on your couch, picking the label off his beer bottle.

“I’m gonna be away for a bit,” he’d said.

“Oh?” you’d responded as you’d mashed the controls on your gaming controller.

“Yeah. I mean, I’ll be around…but I got some shit going on.”

You’d paused your game.

“Bad shit?”

He’d waved you off.

“Neg. Just tryna get myself out there. Signed up for open mics and shit.”

He’d shifted, his long legs receding from around you and folding under him.

“So, like…I got my job at the bowling alley…but nights and weekends are kinda shot.”

You’d tried not to let the disappointment show on your face. You supported Mary’s dreams, and that meant not making an issue that he was finally trying to do something about them.

This wasn’t against you. It was for him.

When you’d taken too long to respond, his face had scrunched.

“But if you want—”

“It’s fine, Mare,” you’d said as you’d made yourself smile. “This is important to you, so it’s important to me.”

You’d unpaused your game.

“Just don’t expect me to not beat this game without you.”

He’d grabbed the controller out of your hands with a snarl, causing you to cry out when you died.

“Fuck the game.” His hand had fisted your shirt. “Give me a night to remember.”

You had. Twice.

***

Mary had texted you occasionally over the next few weeks—a few memes, a few drunken key-smashes, a dick pic, and 2 grainy videos of his performances for critique—but such contact was sporadic, and you’d never seen him in real-time. 

He’d blown in one night, five weeks in, with a box of pizza just as you'd been heading out to meet your crew. When you’d told him you’d made plans, he’d looked so crestfallen that you’d caved and canceled on them.

While he’d been there, he’d given you a date in 3 weeks.

“That Saturday I have nowhere to be,” he’d said as he’d chewed. “I can spend the whole day with you.”

You’d been careful not to seem too eager.

“Oh yeah? Should I plan shit?”

He’d crammed the whole crust into his mouth and had given you a doughy grin.

“Why ’’ya think I told you?”

You didn’t know what you’d expected, but when he’d had to bounce 90min later, you were still surprised. (That was hardly enough time to digest!)

“Sorry,” he’d winced. “I gotta be on a bus in 45min.”

He’d left, and you’d been too embarrassed to join your friends who were only just going to the second bar.

Having fun with your man ;) ? one of your friends had texted.

What do you think? You’d texted back before changing into your pjs and turning on Netflix.

***

So maybe you were low-key excited about your day with Mary.

Perhaps you’d spent those 3 weeks figuring out the perfect date—something that said, “I missed you,” without saying “But in a clingy way.”

Beer and horror were two things the both of you were totally into, and you knew he’d be exhausted, so it seemed perfect. You’d bought the boxed set off of eBay and splurged for expedited shipping; you’d borrowed your brother’s old dual TV/VCR from his college days; and you’d forgone your weekly Chinese takeout for the craft beer funds. (And if things got steamy, well…even better.) 

***

A few days before The Date, you’d run into Mary on the bus. You were coming home from a shift, and he was going to his.

He’d brightened and waved you over—as if you weren’t already on your way—and you’d plopped down beside him with a tired grin. You’d told him of the latest entitled asshole, and he’d showed you another clip of him on guitar.

Before your stop had come up, you’d tentatively placed your hand over his.

“We still on for Saturday?”

He’d blinked at you a few moments before grinning.

“Yeah.”

“Should I plan a whole day for us, then?”

His arm had crept around your shoulders before pulling you into him to kiss your temple.

“Yeah, why not.”

***

That morning, you wake up happy. 

Mary will be over soon.

You roll over and grab your phone.

When should I expect you? :-* 

It takes him an hour to respond. You aren’t surprised—Mary isn’t known for being a morning person—so when your phone dings, you grab it up excitedly.

An excitement that dies when you read his text. And reread. And re-reread.

not 2day 

goin upste 2 show 

You blink.

What show? Didn’t we confirm? 

yeah. got me thinkin 

why no show? 

so i chked 

i missed one 

gotta do it 

Rage blooms hot, then cold behind your eyes and down your cheeks.

But you said we had the whole day. I made plans. 

save em 

ths is impt 2 me 

We’ve had this planned for weeks. 

i thot u suprted me 

on a bus cnt tlk 

You send a few more irate texts, but he doesn’t respond, and you toss your phone across the room with a shout of frustration. You scrub the hot tears from your eyes before they can fall.

And…on paper, Mary isn’t wrong. Nothing you had planned won’t keep: movies, beer, takeout.

But…

It gives you a stark look at what you mean to Mary. He gave you this date and confirmed it. He knew you were making plans.

How long was he going to wait to tell you he wasn’t even in the city anymore?

You fight the urge to kick the VHS tapes across the floor, but you open the fridge and grab a beer. If Queen Elizabeth could have beer for breakfast, then it was good enough for you.

Once you’ve downed all eight, you move on to the jug of vodka you keep for cleaning.

When you empty only liquid from your stomach into the toilet, you grab your frozen fries out of the freezer. You roll a handful of the cold ones in your mouth as you wait for the others to crisp in the oven, and once you’ve consumed the cooked ones, you go right back to the vodka.

***

Opening your eyes the next morning is a mistake, so you take a few deep breaths and go back to sleep.

When you wake again, your heart is fluttering, your stomach turns, and it feels like there’s an ice pick behind one eye. Shuffling slowly, you make your way out to your kitchen where you take some painkillers, drink some pickle juice, and eat two slices of plain bread.

The sense that you did something awful stays with you, but you’re in no condition to find your phone and see what you’ve done. Instead, you go back to bed. It takes more deep breathing to settle yourself, but once you do fall asleep, you’re out for hours.

You don’t feel amazing when you swim to consciousness again, but you feel at least like a human being. 

Your phone is dead when you find it under the sink, and waiting the 5 or so minutes for it to charge feels like waiting to face the executioner.

It’s both better and worse than you expected.

You breathe a sigh of relief to see that there are no vague social media posts, and you didn’t drunk dial any of your friends, but…

The texts to and from Mary are ugly.

Apparently, you’d managed not to send him angry texts until he’d sent you another clip of his performing. But then the floodgates had opened.

You’d started with telling him you didn’t give a shit about the show, how he was an inconsiderate ass, and then you'd devolved into incomprehensible, typo-ridden texts that accused him of using you, that you were only something to do when he didn’t have anything better to do, that he was an entitled man-child and if he didn’t apologize, you were done.

Mary’s texts in response range from him being angry at your disregard, to heated retorts you were blowing this out of proportion (and he didn’t appreciate your “ad hominem” attacks), to a cool detachment that this wasn’t working over text and he’d finish this in person.

You put your head in your hands but are too dehydrated to cry.

***

Mary doesn’t text you again during his self-imposed time frame.

You don’t text him either, but that’s more out of self-preservation than pride. There’s no point exacerbating the situation…and you’re pretty sure there’s no coming back from this, so why speed up the inevitable?

The horror tapes taunt you every time you walk by them, and you wonder if you can return them (you can’t). You give the TV back to your brother, and when he asks you how it went, you plaster a smile on your face and say, “Great!” with forced enthusiasm you hope comes across as genuine.

The primo weed goes over to your friend’s house, and the two of you wax poetic all night about existential claptrap as you devour two cheese pizzas and a bag of bbq chips. You talk about Mary without talking about Mary, and you get a heartfelt, “Sorry, dude.”

You beat the video game anyway, but it’s mostly because you needed something to occupy your mind and less out of spite (though that’s there as well).

***

Despite waiting on tenterhooks to hear anything from Mary, you truly don’t really expect to. You know you’d been atrocious, even if it had been prompted by his careless disregard, and you know Mary isn’t really the kind of guy that troubles himself with relationships that are hard.

Not that you’re in a relationship.

So when there’s a knock on your door a week later and Mary’s behind it, you’re genuinely surprised.

You gape through the peephole in shock.

“Fuck. If you’re there, just let me in, ok?”

Fumbling with the chain, you unlock the door and crack it open.

“Mary?”

“You gonna let me in?” he rasps.

You shrug and step away from the door, and he shuffles inside. He looks around like you’ve changed anything (you haven’t), before turning around to face you.

You close the door and stare back.

He folds his arms. “Breaking up with someone over text is tacky.”

What you think is, So you’ve come to do it in person, but what you say is, “Can’t break up if you’re not together.”

He winces and runs his fingers through his hair. 

“Yeah…apparently I’ve ‘taken advantage' of you.”

This…isn’t what you’re expecting.

“I…what?”

“Can we sit down?”

You nod, and Mary sits rigidly on the edge of your couch. You curl up in the chair on the opposite side.

He rubs his palms down his greasy jeans before he speaks.

“I mean…you pissed me off, ok?”

You nod.

“But, like—you weren’t wrong, ok? I kinda knew that deep down, but I’m a dumbass, you know?”

You don’t nod.

“And I kinda bitched about the whole thing…but the resounding response was that I was the asshole.”

He angles his body toward you.

“I guess I’ve kinda been treating you like my best friend that I fuck sometimes.”

Your entire face flushes—you’d always thought you’d maybe ranked a little higher than that—and you duck your head so he can’t see the tears that you blink back.

There’s a swish of fabric, and you startle hard when Mary’s hand is at your chin. He jerks back with a Sorry.

“Shit—that’s not what I…” he blows out a breath and puts his hands behind his head before looking back up at you.

“But you aren’t, and…fuck this is harder than I thought.”

So this is it.

Waiting for him to do the deed is clearly going to be excruciating, so you take charge of this whole shit-show.

“I understand,” you say flatly.

“You do?”

“It’s ok, Mare-Mary. It’s my own fault for reading too much into it. I just…I saw what I wanted to see, I guess. I know you don’t need…” you look down into your lap, “…my shit in your life.

He makes a noise low in his throat, and then he’s squatting in front of you, his hot hands planting on your knees.

“But I want your shit in my life.”

You squint your eyes at him.

“But what I said…”

He grasps your hands in his.

“Pissed me off, yeah…cuz I wasn’t fucking thinking, ok? You’re like one of the only people who gives a crap about what’s important to me. And all I could see was you suddenly…not.”

Anger wells up in you again, and you yank away your hands.

“Weeks, Mary…weeks of you all over the tri-state area, and you thought I didn’t care because of one night?! A night you promised to me?”

He sits back on his heels. “I know…fuck. Ok? At the time, it just felt…like the show couldn’t be rescheduled. Our night could.”

Because you’re what he does when he’s bored.

You curl in on yourself.

“Shit.” He leans forward again. “Fuck, I’m sorry, ok? I’m fucking on my knees here.”

You blink at him. 

What? 

“Please, please don’t break—say we’re done.”

“What?”

“Look, we can go into my shitty fucking psychological profile on why I fuck around later…but right now I need you to know that I knew it was you before I fucking knew it was you.”

You uncurl.

“That…’what’ was me?”

He knees forward and presses your hands to his face.

“The one I wanna spend my free time with. The one whose opinion means the most. The one who was the first person I wanted to share all my good shit with. You’re the one I missed, and—after that awful fucking night—everything felt pointless because I knew I couldn’t come over and jam about it.”

“Mare—what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’m a fucking dumbass. I’m saying I thought I was pissed at you, but I was pissed at myself for fucking it up.” He sighs. “I’m saying no fucking one was on my side and they all told me to get my shit together.”

He looks up at you with wide eyes, and for the first time, you can see how they’re outlined in red, his subtle crow’s feet more pronounced.

“So, you’re not done with me? I’m not…too much trouble?”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “What? Shit, no. I’m asking you to not be done with me. I’ll give you all the nights you want. Fucking text me, and my ass’ll be here posthaste.” He shifts up, and his thumb ghosts over your lips. “Anything to get you to give me that secret smile again.”

“Secret smile?” you ask while trying to perform the action.

Mary actually blushes.

“Uh…yeah. You get this…” he makes a motion across his face, “…when you’re giving it back to me.” His fingers shove back through his hair as he casts his eyes down. “You don’t give it to anyone else.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’ve made a study of it.”

You’re a swirl of emotions. Mary’s apologized—has admitted he was wrong and has asked for…more—but you’re still hurt. And embarrassed.

But he’s looking up at you with wet, hopeful eyes.

“Do you…” you start carefully, “…do you know why I got so mad?”

That statement was clearly not what he was expecting, and he blinks at you a few times before nodding and looking down at the floor.

“I made a…uh, commitment…to you. And I treated it like it didn’t mean anything.”

He gives you a look like, Did I get it right? and that’s close enough—even if he’s missing some of the nuance.

You nod. “And I know I…wasn’t…the best.”

His face contorts, and your heart sinks.

“You…” he shakes his head. “You said some awful things…some hurtful shit—and it really got in my head.”

Mary gives you a complicated look.

“Shit that you’d been pissed about for a while.” He traces your knee. “Shit you could’ve said to me…but shit I should have noticed. Fuck.” He presses his forehead into your knees, and you can’t stop yourself from sinking your fingers into his hair.

He takes it as encouragement and presses into you before looking up again.

“I just kinda wanna put that whole night behind us. It feels like a fucking ouroboros of fault. And like maybe I created it. But let’s agree to like…not do that again.”

You look down at him, and his eyes search your face.

“Ok…but what does all this mean, Mare? I can’t…I need to be something to you, ok? More than just your friend.”

Mary nods emphatically, and he takes your hand and curls his into it.

“No more fuck-ups, and no one else…can we start there?”

He’s saying all the right words, but you’re still trepidatious—you know Mary, and he doesn’t like constraints.

“I…just…how can I believe you?”

He shakes his head like he can’t believe you even have to ask. He rises and awkwardly reaches out to touch your face before drawing his hand back.

“Cuz you’re important to me. I care about you, and I don’t want to lose you. Ever.”

And yeah. Ok.

[jamaiskookie]

who are your favourite authors here on tumblr??? i wanna get more minnie recs heh... also hope you're feeling better!!! those anons were stupid

i’m feeling much better now!! thank you so much nonnie, this truly does mean so much <3 also let’s ignore how this blog is practically a fic rec blog now ok thanks

@jungshookz ~ feel good author, cee writes all my comfort - crack fics. plus her community is mwah mwah chefs kiss. it’s definitely a safe space only crackheads allowed 100% recommend. 

on the reading list: la vie en bonsai [knj]

@s0seo ~ i may be a teensy bit biased but she’s truly the best out there B-) her writing!!! is so mf good!!!! if you’re in an angsty-smutty au mood then her blog is right that way maam -> 

on the reading list: the passion project [jhs] FOR PERSONAL REASONS

@kpopfanfictrash ~ probably my favourite author here, i aspire to be more like her as an average author myself. if you ever want to go on a whirlwind of emotion and settle down for some good AU-fluffy-smutty-a+comedy content shanna’s the gal to go to.

on the reading list: everything raise the barre [pjm]

@jimlingss ~ HAS MY WHOLE GODDAMN HEART WRAPPED AROUND THEIR PINKY. GIVE KINA A PULITZER PRIZE NOW. HAS SAVED ME FROM BOREDOM AND BAD DAYS I WOULD SELL MY LEFT PINKY TOE FOR THIS AUTHOR

on the reading list: slice of life series [ot7]

@latetaektalk ~ writes like an angel. genuinely concerned for myself you would nOT believe how excited i am whenever she posts a teaser my heart goes 📈english isn’t her first language (fun fact: same here!!) but she writes english so MWAH MWAH PERFECTLY I LOVE HER SO MUCH

on the reading list: after i left you [jjk]

that’s it for today nonnie!! thank you for the request, and the love. the internet do be crazy sometimes. thank you to all the authors here, you are so appreciated and i look up to all of you <3 

[frannyzooey]

Kelli. I am so in awe of everything you write. I sent in the ask about what girl got din and was blown away by it but now I just read your little weeknights drabble???!!?!!!? THE! LOVE! IN! THOSE! KISSES!!!!!!!!!!!!! Is amazing!!!! I AM AMAZED by your writing every time and I’m always on anon and I don’t know you at all but I am still so proud of everything you write. Life is crazy but spending time to be creative is so important for our brains something that’s easy to forget. So I’m proud of you for doing it. Even if it’s hard sometimes. Or even if it’s something you never post and is just for you! I think it’s just so beautiful what you can write and what your mind must be. I just wanted to tell you that this anon is so proud of you and I hope you can be proud of yourself too <3 warm hugs always

I saved this forever because I liked to peek at it for a little slice of joy during the day :)

I don't even know what to say to this, nonnie - I am so fucking soft right now. TMTC Din and Weeknights Frankie own my whole ass heart, but I'm now offering you a little slice of it because you are so sweet! I am so glad you like them. :)

Life IS hard and I do not always do a good job of setting aside time to be creative, which is important, and this message is a great reminder to me to do just that. Knowing that you are proud of me makes me SO happy and also gives me second hand pride in myself; something that is hard to find and acknowledge sometimes. I wish you could peek inside my mind - SO much clowning and also so many cockulations.....lmao

I love you and I really appreciate this message! Thank you for reading and for sending it to me!

[silver-wield]

That one ask you got abt T saying she hated Z specifically is bothering me. In OG, there is no interaction between her and Z. Or her and C until after C dropkicks Seph's ass in to the proverbial afterlife. In CC, after she finds her village on fire, her dead father, goes to attack S and then gets sliced and drops down a flight of stairs, Z shows up and tries to help her. She then flinches away from him and says: I hate you, i hate shinra, i hate soldier, i hate you all! (1/2)

Tbh that sounds like a traumatized teen trying to protect herself to me. And not her not wanting to be Z's friend. Besides, before this event (and for the pleasure of that final nail in that anon's coffin) Z and T actually exchanged contact info. He gets mail from her (3 in total!), in which she asks abt C but, like a chick with a crush, begs him not to say a word to anyone. Doesn't sound like enemies to me! I get disliking an idea, but if u gotta twist info to suit ur narrative: square up.(2/2)

And that, nonny, is why I answered the way I did. I knew about them having talked and Tifa trying to learn about Cloud (because it's the twisted reasoning why they're a ship wtaf?) and what I know about Tifa is she doesn't hold grudges and generalise. She hates Shinra, but she doesn't just blanket hate them. She even tried to save President Shinra before Barret stopped her. Not the actions of a girl who'd irrationally hate a guy who tried to help her. Maybe they wouldn't be close friends because Zack is Cloud's buddy, but they'd get along.

[shockapella-sweet]

liutana ship meme?

Ah, the royal couple of Mortal Kombat apart from Sub-Zero/Scorpion. It’s been a while since I’ve done anything Liutana-centric, so let’s get into it:

Who cries when someone dies in a movie – If the hero’s lover, family member or best friend dies, then it’s Liu Kang who cries; if it’s like a motherly figure, a star-crossed couple or a child who dies, then it’s Kitana. Either way, expect one of them to have tissues tucked away in their pockets.

Who wears the ugly holiday garb – Only Kitana manages to look decently stunning in those ugly sweaters; Liu-liu just gets laughed at by Kung Lao and Johnny Cage.

Who pays for the meals – Who needs to pay for meals when you’re the queen of Outworld/Edenia, and you’ve got a five-star personal chef on hand to make the meals for you and your man? However, if they do dine out, expect Liu Kang to offer to pay for their meals, or at least split the costs. Also, Liu-liu seems to be the type who buys good quality food from a shop (after saving up his stipends), takes Kitana to the countryside and prepares a lovely picnic for her.

Who slams the oven door and who plays the trombone – Oh no, Kitana would never. She won’t stand for that kind of nonsense in her house palace (“Attempt to do so, dear Liu Kang, and you may find yourself being fed to a tree in the Living Forest” “Sounds less painful than being forced to watch one of Johnny’s abysmal films”).

Who brings home stray animals – Most likely Liu Kang, who takes pity on these animals roaming around on the streets, starving and unloved and in need of a home. It’s a soft side that Kitana enjoys seeing, and she’s more than willing to help Liu-liu take care of the animal in question and help find a home for it.

Who leaves the bathroom door open – Admittedly, Liu Kang has done it a few times (due to his being used to living on his own before shacking up with Kitana). It surprises Kitana every time and perhaps makes her a little excited if he’s just stepped out of the shower …

Who tells the ‘dad jokes’ – It’s more like Liu-liu attempting to explain to Kitana what “dad jokes” are, and failing miserably. She just laughs at him anyway.

Who wants kids more – They’re in no particular rush to have children; when they’re ready and willing, they’ll go for it. Liu-liu would enjoy playing with them and teaching them valuable life lessons, while Kitana is eager to give them the best lives possible, and both would go to the ends of Earthrealm and Outworld combined to protect their children.

Who travels more – *Disregards their revenant status and MK11′s plot for five seconds* As the ruler of Outworld or an independent Edenia, Kitana regularly travels between realms and various regions to maintain relations, trade, etc. Liu-liu is most likely assisting Raiden at the Sky Temple or the elder monks at the Wu Shi Academy.

Who spends more cash – Kitana. Hers is a lifestyle that is maintained by a lot of coins. However, you can expect her to give away large portions of her personal funds to underprivileged persons or services that go towards aiding her people.

Who buys the things in infomercials – “Liu Kang, is it true that this appliance can chop onions for you? And that this product can transform vegetables into noodles?” Seriously, Kitana is a real-life Ariel when it comes to infomercial gadgets and thingamabobs from Earthrealm. Poor Liu-liu can barely get her to change her mind about buying these damn things.

Who draws in the dust on their cars – If for some odd reason that Kitana has a car, then goodness knows she’s not going to get that thing dusty. Same with Liu Kang – he’s not about that riding-dirty life.

Who starts the snowball fights – Imagine Liu Kang teaching Kitana how to make snowballs; five minutes later, Kitana’s the one launching the snowballs and starting an all-out war. Any snowballs thrown at her, she’ll slice ‘em with her fans. She’ll most likely win the fight, too.

Who throws away the directions to things – Neither. They do things by the bloody book. They’re not like Johnny Cage who tries and fails to improvise.

Who puts up holiday decor – Liu Kang. To celebrate Chinese holidays and occasions, he’ll put up decorations and ornaments like they did back at the academy. Kitana would naturally lend a hand, learning about the significance of these decorations/ornaments, the holidays/occasions being celebrated, and growing closer to the Shaolin monk in the process.

Who is more likely to forget to bathe – Neither. They’ve been taught to keep themselves clean. Unless an exhausted Liu-liu forgets to bathe after an intense training session, then expect Kitana to throw him – clothes and all – into a big ol’ bath.

Who gets more obsessed about things – Maintaining order and decorum, as well as sustaining their relationship, is extremely important to them both. If it comes down to running the realm and making sure everything goes smoothly, then it’s Kitana; Liu Kang will most likely be thingy about upholding honour, morals and values.

Who sings in the shower more often – Probably Liu Kang, though he’ll deny it despite leaving the bathroom door wide open for Kitana to hear … and see.

There you have it, Nonny! ^3^ I know I made you wait for this one as well. Forgiveth me, and have this GIF, too:

[icantbelieveitsnotlucy]

Writing meme #1 and #20

Holy crap, another Nonnie!

1. Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

Slice-of-life, fairly domestic, exploring characterizations and relationships more than big, heavy plot-y elements. A bit of angst, but a quiet sort of angst - it has been called my Twist of Sad before. Also, if there's smut, it's probably going to be the slightest bit kinky, or at least have those elements implied? Though not every time. 

20. Describe your perfect writing conditions.

I'm on my couch with my laptop. Nobody can bother me - no work, no family, no friends, no nothing. I have a cup of coffee and a whole morning of nothing planned. I slept well, I feel good, and I have some idea of where I want to end up, though I don't know precisely where the characters will lead me. If it's cold outside, I have a blanket and a hoodie.

Or, you know, in a dream world I'd be curled up on a couch by a fire looking over a loch in Scotland, which is where I wrote a few of my Kink Bingos last year. If I could have that all the time, that'd be the dream, save for the fact that the wifi was total shit.

Ask me stuff!

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Do you have any fic recs of Sherlock being soft for John and John only.

Hey Nonny! 

Ahhhhhhhh your request had me thinking that yes I do, and I did tag a few fics with “soft Sherlock”, but I’ve never started a list, so here ya go!

SOFT SHERLOCK

See also: Sherlock Soft With Children

Soft. Happy. Content. by inevitably_johnlocked (G, 223 w., 1 Ch. || Sleepy Cuddles, Bed Sharing, Slice of Life, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Spooning, Morning After, Sherlock POV) – Sherlock reflects on his state of mind. Part 6 of I-J's Tumblr Ficlet Collection

A Perfect Figure by ecb327 (K, 622 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, First Person POV Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Introspection, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Light Angst) – Sherlock build a spot in his mind palace for John.

I Knew You Loved Me by inevitably_johnlocked (T, 743 w., 1 Ch. || Morning Cuddles, Fluff, Clingy Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Slice of Life, Morning After, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Declarations of Love, Pet Name, Bed Sharing, Snuggles) – John and Sherlock share a lie-in the morning after their first time. So fluffy and gross your teeth will fall out. Part 4 of I-J's Tumblr Ficlet Collection

Peacock by ClassyGirlsWearPearls (T, 1,189 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Cranky Sherlock, Soft John, Hand Holding, Soft Sherlock) – A study in Sherlock and John.

Mizzle by MrsNoggin (K, 1,233 w., 1 Ch || Friendship, Fluff, Platonic Johnlock, Humour, Slice of Life) – John can't decide if it's raining or not. Sherlock doesn't understand.

And, Usually, He's the One Who GIVES Me a Headache by Cumberbatch Critter (T, 1,315 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, POV John, Cranky John, Headaches, Head Massage) – A migraine is never fun.

Together is What we Have, Together Protects Us by Phantom of the Black Pearl (K+, 1,566 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF, Friendship / Platonic or Slash, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Sherlock, Worried Sherlock, Slice of Life) – After a case one evening in the flat Sherlock voices a concern that causes the pair to consider why they've chosen to stick together after all that's happened

Here to Stay by MockJayPhoenix12 (K, 1,574 w., 1 Ch. || Post Reunion, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Headache, Bed Sharing, Care Taker Sherlock, Hand Holding, Fluff) – On Sherlock's first day home, John wakes with a migraine.

Evermore by SosoHolmesWatson (G, 2,068 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4,  5-Year-Old Rosie, Love Confessions, Song Fic, Parentlock, Oblivious John, Pining Sherlock, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Disney Songs, Beauty and the Beast) – For the past years, John and Sherlock have lived at Baker Street again, raising Rosie together--as friends and nothing more. Ever since the little girl has watched her first Disney movie, she is obsessed with princesses. When John comes home one day, he finds his friend and his daughter in the middle of a reenactment of her current favourite. Part 1 of Made of Music

Let the Sun Fade Out by nothingislittle (E, 2,711 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff & Smut, Praise Kink, PWP, Obsessed Sherlock, Bottomlock, Heart-Tearing Love) – "He could warm the sun itself, Sherlock thinks, could heat their flat with just his presence, could brighten the room with one dazzling smile or just the sparkling in his eyes. John is everything, he’s beautiful and he shines, he’s everything."

Unquantifiable by 221b_hound (M, 2,799 w. 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Sherlock/Sally Friendship, Grumpy John, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Pet Names, Texting, Sweet Sherlock, Princess Bride References) – John remains a terrible and foul-tempered patient, but he does try to make up for it with pet names and text message silliness. In the meantime, Sally Donovan visits Baker Street for a hint about the Milverton case, and has to deal with a Sherlock Holmes who can't find words big enough to thank her for saving John's life at the warehouse. For afters, there's a viewing of The Princess Bride. Part 33 of the Unkissed series

Pillow Talk by 221b_hound (E, 2,925 w., 1 Ch. || Post-HLV, Est. Rel., Preening Sherlock, Limpet Sherlock, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Sex on Furniture, Scent Kink, Masturbation, Fluff, Soft Sherlock,  Sherlock’s Bum) – John gets home late from work and Sherlock is nowhere to be seen. John walks through the flat, distracted by memories of all the excellent sex they've been having, and finally finds Sherlock asleep in the upstairs room - apparently having fallen asleep mid-wank while inhaling the scent of John's pillow. Well, you should always finish what you start, John thinks... Part 3 of Lock and Key

The General Idea by agirlsname (T, 3,022 w., 1 Ch. || Retirement, Promise of Forever / Proposal, POV John, First Kiss, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Soft Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Crying / Emotional Sherlock, Love Confessions) – After twenty years of friendship, John is used to Sherlock acting weirdly. But the news Sherlock finally brings himself to deliver change the carefully built dynamics between them, and John realises it's time to act.

Affirmation by jamlockk (E, 3,096 w., 1 Ch. || First Time, Dev. Rel., PWP, Love Declarations, Emotional/Overwhelmed Sherlock, Comforting/Caring John, Gross Fluff) – "Sunlight dappled John's skin, casting a glow across his spreadeagled form as he dozed among the rumpled sheets. Sherlock knew the expression on his face was hopelessly soft but for once did not care about showing his true feelings so openly. He simply stood there, in the doorway, gazing at the impossibly beautiful man currently snuffling softly in his slumber." Part 8 of All the ways we love

Untouched by KittieHill (E, 3,239 w., 1 Ch. || Kissing, Frottage, Virgin Sherlock, Body Worship, Sherlock’s Scars Mentioned, Masturbation, PWP, Rimming, Multiple Orgasms) – Sherlock leaked a lot. John had never needed lubricant. John loved watching it, had once spent an entire afternoon edging Sherlock so he could watch as the thick precome drip, drip, dripped onto Sherlock's belly.

Morning Sunlight by slashscribe (E, 3,565 w., 1 Ch. || PWP, Morning Sex, Fluff, PWP, Established Rel., Soft Idiots) – A thin band of soft morning light peeks between the curtains and stretches across John’s torso, laying dormant across his forearm, dipping into the space between his arm and his chest, illuminating his right nipple but just brushing the edge of his left, disappearing into his armpit, and reappearing again right over Sherlock’s eyes where his head rests, nestled against John’s shoulder. Sherlock is not annoyed by the light’s intrusion on his sleep, not when it rests so soft and tantalizing on John’s skin, a work of unintentionally erotic art. A PWP with so much emotion.

Living Musical by VeeTheRee (G, 4,149 w. 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Hobbies, Summer, Song Fic, POV Sherlock, Painting, Play Fighting, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Love Declarations, Hair Petting, Promise of Forever) – A one-shot of John and Sherlock being domestic during summer. There is paint, fluff, and music from Imagine Dragons, namely from the album 'Speak To Me', specific song in this one-shot is 'Living Musical'. Part 1 of the Happy Fluffy Johnlock Time series

Date Night by inevitably_johnlocked (G, 4,451 w., 1 Ch. || Anxious / Worried Sherlock, Caring John, Schmoopy Fluff, Fidget Cube, Baking / Cooking, Date Night, Established Relationship, POV Sherlock Holmes, Understanding John, Grumpy Sherlock, John’s Bum, Kisses, Hugs, Domestic Fluff, Touching, Hair Petting, Light Humour) – It's John and Sherlock's first Date Night as an official couple and Sherlock needs it to be PERFECT. Mrs Hudson helps. Part 7 of I-J's Tumblr Ficlet Collection

If He Knows by shamelessmash (M, 4,513 w., 1 Ch. || TSo3 Fic, Pining Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Angst, First Person Sherlock POV, Texting, Internal Monologue, Blanket Forts) – I imagine mornings: John handing me a cup of tea, hair sticking out at odd angles. How he would bend down to kiss me, smiling fondly as he pulls away. The way his skin crinkles at the corner of his eyes, the way his skin looks in the morning light. The soft sigh as he sits in his chair with the morning paper, the way his toes curl in the carpet, the way he rolls his shoulders before sinking deeper into his seat. I watch him, how he is when he is content, as it should be. As he deserves. Happy. With me.

all things warm and tender by darcylindbergh (E, 5,177 w., 1 Ch. || PWP, Romantic Fluff, Rimming/Anal/BJ’s, Body Worship) – Grinning and giggling, John slides back down under the sheet and pulls it over his head. He finds Sherlock waiting for him, eyes bright and hair wild, the firelight bleeding through the thin fabric, colouring everything in soft peach and topaz, and in that moment he is so suddenly, unexpectedly, ethereally beautiful that John forgets how to breathe.

Pillow Talk by scullyseviltwin (M, 5,183 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S3, Angsty Fluff, Pillow Talk, Bed Sharing, Worried John, First Time Morning After, Soft Sherlock, Sexuality Discussion, Love Confessions, Kisses and Cuddles) – John has been looking at Sherlock for ages, it feels like.

a very soft epilogue (my love) by darcylindbergh (E, 5,395 w., 3 Ch. || Retirement, Domestic Fluff, Dancing, Dogs, Grumpy Old Men) – Across the pillows, Sherlock shifts and hums, the creases of his face deepening and then smoothing before settling. John watches him wake up, his chest swelling with affection and fondness, and thinks he’ll never get tired of Sherlock in the mornings, sleepy and soft. It’s been some forty-odd years, and John hasn’t gotten tired of it yet. Part 5 of things fairy tales are made of

Naked by sussexbound (E, 6,166 w., 1 Ch. || Frottage, Fluff, Intimacy, First Time, Love Declarations, Trust) – John takes a deep breath, and then lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Sherlock, how would you feel if you were sitting out here doing one of your bloody experiments, and I just waltzed out of the loo and started fixing myself breakfast completely starkers? Hmm…? ”Sherlock’s lips inch up at the corners into a pleased hint of a smile he can’t seem to suppress. Part 2 of Intimacy

Christmas by WhimsicalEthnographies (E, 7,673 w., 1 Ch. || Worried Sherlock, PWP, Drunkeness, Christmas, Est. Relationship, Idiots So In Love) – John feels a lump rise in his throat, and it hits him, again, that this beautiful, infuriating creature is his. Completely, one-hundred percent his.

How To Give Your Boyfriend Who Doesn't Know He's Your Boyfriend the Best Valentine's Day Ever by unicornpoe (T, 9,832 w., 1 Ch. || Valentine’s Day, Fluff and Crack, Soft Sherlock, POV Sherlock) – Sherlock is pretty sure that John Watson is his boyfriend. He's also pretty sure that John doesn't know it. But with a little help from a magazine, some friends, three crepes, five dates, one awesome CD, and a stalker van, John is bound to realize just in time for Valentine's Day.

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

To be loved by Strange_johnlock (E, 12,436 w., 8 Ch. || Post S3, Established Relationship, First Person POV Sherlock, Pet Names, Soft Sherlock, Mild ADHD, Protective John, Captain Watson, Body Appreciation, Bottomlock, Rough Sex, Travelling for Holidays, Introspection, Sherlock Loves John So Much It Hurts) – John is so deeply integrated into the work, both as my conductor of light, and as a great shot with a vicious right hook who tackles men -and women- no matter their size all in my defense. He protects me with all he can without question, and this loyalty is surely more than I deserve. Or: Sherlock is counting his blessings.

holding steady by darcylindbergh (E, 12,724 w., 4 Ch. || Post S4, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Growing Old, Gone Fishing, Mood without Plot, Soft Sherlock, Caring Sherlock, POV John Third Person, Anxious Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Touching, Feeling Old, Sherlock Worship, Crying Sherlock, Cuddles, Comforting, Introspection, Retirement, Hand Holding, Forehead Kisses, Caring John, Bed Sharing, Emotional Love Making) – Sitting on a thick wool blanket at the end of a rickety dock side-by-side, legs dangling over the edge, a styrofoam container of wet, dark dirt between them, they’re fishing. John knows what this is about. This is about finally figuring it out.

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?

The Invocation of Saint Margaret by Ewebie (E, 15,831 w., 1 Ch. || POV John,  Crossing Timelines, Light Angst, Fluff, Series 3 John / Series 1 Sherlock, The Matchbox, Mushy Romance, First Time, Bisexual John, Pining John, Bottomlock, Love Confessions, Sensuality, Emotional Love Making, Snippets of Time) – When Sherlock Holmes opens the matchbox from The Sign of Three and John finds himself years in the past, back to that first dinner at Angelo's with a much younger Sherlock Holmes. Is he dreaming?

Division by MrsNoggin (E, 19,542 w., 11 Ch. || Coffee Shop AU || First Kiss/Time, Fluff, Barista Sherlock, Clingy Sherlock, POV John, John’s Limp, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles, Sensuality, Touching, Virgin Sherlock, Insecure John) – John likes mysteries. And every morning he dips into the local independent coffee bar with his newspaper and ponders another... one Sherlock Holmes.

Out of the Woods by SilentAuror (E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Pining Sherlock, Frustrated Wanking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Bum Appreciation, Hanging out with the Yard) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

How To Unfold a Heart by elwinglyre (E, 25,477 w., 7 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It, BAMF John, Mentioned Eurus, POV First Person Sherlock, Case Fic, Fluff, Slow Burn, Topping from the Bottom, 3 Yr Old Rosie, Introspection, Sexual Fantasies, John Worship, Ogling, Hand Holding, Kidnapping, Domesticity, Sherlock Whump, First Kiss/Time, Doctor John, Caring John, Soft Sherlock, Sensuality, Touching, Crying, Love Confessions, Anxious Sherlock, Rimming, Toplock, Fingering, Bossy Bottom John) – To Sherlock’s dismay, John’s return to Baker Street with Rosie is only temporary. Sherlock’s daily visits to Regent Park with John and Rosie illuminate his lost childhood memories and missed opportunities. But with each trip to the park, Sherlock also feels a growing sense of hope. That is until the past horrors return unexpectedly in a cryptic note folded in the shape of a heart. To decipher the message, Sherlock must uncover the nature of the hearts around him, including his own.

A Quiet Life by DiscordantWords (M, 25,176 w., 6 Ch. || Post S4, Retirement, POV Sherlock, Awkwardness, Established Relationship, Family Dynamics, Minor Character Death, Questionable Parenting Choices, Non-Linear Narrative, 20 Year Old Rosie, Meddling Mycroft, Pining Sherlock, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Angst, Sherlock Whump) – There had been three days of silence and a funeral. Sherlock had the terrible feeling that whatever happened next would depend, entirely, on him.

How To Unfold a Heart by elwinglyre (E, 25,477 w., 7 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It, BAMF John, Mentioned Eurus, POV First Person Sherlock, Case Fic, Fluff, Slow Burn, Topping from the Bottom, 3 Yr Old Rosie, Introspection, Sexual Fantasies, John Worship, Ogling, Hand Holding, Kidnapping, Domesticity, Sherlock Whump, First Kiss/Time, Doctor John, Caring John, Soft Sherlock, Sensuality, Touching, Crying, Love Confessions, Anxious Sherlock, Rimming, Toplock, Fingering, Bossy Bottom John) – To Sherlock’s dismay, John’s return to Baker Street with Rosie is only temporary. Sherlock’s daily visits to Regent Park with John and Rosie illuminate his lost childhood memories and missed opportunities. But with each trip to the park, Sherlock also feels a growing sense of hope. That is until the past horrors return unexpectedly in a cryptic note folded in the shape of a heart. To decipher the message, Sherlock must uncover the nature of the hearts around him, including his own.

Deck the Halls by itsalwaysyou_jw (T, 31,018 w., 24 Ch. || Advent Fic / Multiple One-Shots, Assorted Tags) – One Johnlock ficlet for every day leading up to Christmas. Who is ready for pining, first kisses, established Johnlock, and everything in between? This collection of stand-alone ficlets will have it all.

Gold Rush by ShirleyCarlton (E, 71,783 w., 17 Ch. || Post S3 / No Mary, Friends to Lovers, Mentions of Past Sexual Abuse, First Kiss, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Alternating POV, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Marriage Proposal, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abduction, Anxious/Insecure Sherlock, Miscommunication, Emotional Lovemaking) – John has divorced Mary and pops round to 221B one evening to find Sherlock in the middle of a case. As Sherlock tries to find the identity of a young woman’s stalker, John realises he can no longer deny his feelings for Sherlock – which then, to their befuddlement, turn out to be mutual. Shy kisses and tentative embraces ensue. But will Sherlock be able to cast off a shadow from his past that he thinks might prevent John from wanting to stay?

Definitions by siennna (T, 101,528 w., 12 of ? Ch. || Dev. Rel., Pining, Fluff and Romance, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Fluff, Cuddles, Girl’s Night, Texting, Virgin Sherlock, Drunk Sherlock, Background Mollstrade, Hair Petting, Laying on Lap) – Sherlock’s journey in defining his flat mate and stumbling through the muddled world of emotion. {{This feels complete; the chapter count is listed as ? but I feel like it is done}}

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 151,714 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Hiatus Fic, POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Kiss/Time, Big Brother Mycroft, Escaping from Capture, Soft Sherlock, Toplock, Insecurity, Infidelity, Travelling, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Depression, Fantasies, Yearning for the Past, PTSD Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns.

[sirius-archive]

24 and 34 with sirius? I love your work soooo muchhhh ♡♡♡♡

and I love you, cute nonnie

24. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad and 34. “You come to my room and wake me up at 4am to cuddle?” 

Prompt list | request

It was the tickle in your foot that woke you. You started, your whole body jolting as you gasped at the silhouette that loomed over you. In one fluid movement, you had grabbed your wand from beneath your pillow and aimed it at the stranger’s head.

“(Y/N), it’s me. Padfoot. Sirius. Sirius Orion Black. The good-looking guy you occasionally snog when you’re not sucking up to Minnie…”

You sighed as Sirius Black stepped into the shard of moonlight that sliced through the darkness. The silver light illuminated his chiseled features and grey eyes, calming your heart to a regular beat as you tossed your wand back under your pillow with a sigh.

“Don’t do that!” you hissed through gritted teeth. “What do you want? It’s the middle of the night.”

“Actually, it’s early in the morning,” Sirius corrected and you rolled your eyes.

“That does not improve your case, Sirius, it only makes things worse!”

“Right – well – I wanted to – er – see if you’d like to – you know – “

“Sirius!”

“Can I cuddle with you?” burst Sirius so quickly, it took you a minute to realise what he had said.

“Cuddle?”

“Yeah” he shifted awkwardly.

You glowered at him. “Let me get this straight: You come to my room and wake me up at 4 in the morning to cuddle?”

Sirius nodded, wincing slightly at how strange it sounded.

“And if you hadn’t had snuck in here, breaking Merlin knows how many school rules, I would still be sleeping?”

Sirius nodded once again and grimaced. Silence swallowed you both for a moment as Sirius stood by your bedside, hopefully, while you glared at him, annoyed that you had been disturbed.

“This was a bad idea,” Sirius whispered, breaking the silent tension between the two of you, “I should – erm – go…” 

Sirius moved to leave but you beckoned him with a hiss of his name and threw the sheets back, moving so he had room. Sirius’s entire face lit up boyishly and he crept to your bed, pulled the curtains around your bed closed once again, and slipped into the sheets and wrapping his arms around your waist. You pressed yourself against his chest and snuggled into his embrace. As you did, your bottom wiggled against his crotch and your eyes widened. 

“Do you sleep with your wand or are you just happy to see me?” You murmured and Sirius snorted. 

“What can I say? You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad,” he whispered, and you laughed, “I was more than aroused, I’m not gonna lie…” 

“I can tell, you horny teenage boy” you smirked, turning in his arms so you could face him. “And I do not suck up to McGonagall…” 

“Yeah, Yeah,” Sirius grinned, “Save it for the judge.” 

You gasped in mock offence. “I was going to deal with…your arousal…since it was you who woke me up but now I think I changed my mind.” 

Sirius laughed and sealed your lips with a kiss, swallowing your moan as his lips moved against yours like water. 

Let’s just say you didn’t get much sleep that night.

Send me stuff, my dudes!

[serensama]

PASS THE HAPPY ALONG! When you get this respond with 5 things that make you happy and send this to 10 people.

Thank you Nonny Chan!!!Last time i did this I wrote about Jumin… then I wrote about NSFW RFA… I think this time… it’s time for some RFA FLUFF THAT MAKES ME SMILE!

1. Yoosung: This boy loves to cook, so waking up on the weekends to the smell of him making breakfast (probably for breakfast in bed, let’s be honest) and humming off tune to the radio in the kitchen- it’s the best start to the day. 2. Zen: He is a very tactile person, out of nowhere whether you're both in bed just about to fall asleep or sitting underneath you legs as he’s practising his new lines… Zen’s hands will always roam over your body, soft, sweet touches to show you how much he loves you and always wants to be close to you. 3. Jaehee: This woman is the most thoughtful creature on the planet. Without fail, she will always have a saved piece of your favourite cake to bring home  or a slice of something new she’s baked because she just knows that you’ll love it. Or how she knows to put three sugars in your coffee when they’re grumpy and five when you’re reaaallly grumpy. 

4. Jumin: Always serves you first. He will always ask for your order to be taken before his, he will always refill your glass and he will always offer you the last piece of dessert (sometimes, just sometimes… you share the final bite)- because to him- you always come first. 

5. Saeyoung: He always knows when you’re sad- always… sometimes even before you do. So he’ll gather up all the junk food in the house (no matter how many times you get rid of it all, there’s always one SIZEABLE stash you miss out on) and plonks both your butts down in front of the wide screen tv and watch all the stupidest, funniest shows that take you back to your childhood. 

SOME BONUS HAPPY YO!

6. Saeran: The boy loves the bed… but especially when he’s in it with you. When there’s nothing planned for the day, more often than not it will be spent between the sheets, arms and legs entwined amidst the plush covers- sometimes quiet, sometimes loud- sometimes just spent gazing at each other, fingers linked with soft eyes and softer smiles. 

7. V: Hums you to sleep… something he picked up from his opera singer mother. It was an accident at first, his first instance of being truly happy and at peace and he started humming as he stared at your half asleep form. When you asked what he was humming and he stopped embarrassed, you reassured him that it was wonderful and not to stop… so he never does. 

[topfied]

yes please make a tut on your gdragon lyrics gifset!!!!!!

hahahhaha okie dokie nonny, tutorial for this edit under the cut ;)

What you’ll be needing:+ This cute pixel sparkle gif whose owner’s identity is a mystery. Please tell me if you do so I can properly credit!+ Basic giffing knowledge (timeline + frame ani)+ 20 min. of your time

I’ve actually already deleted the psd and the gifs so I’ll try my best to recreate everything but yeah, there’s definitely gonna be a slight difference if I know myself ahahahha.

STEP 1: I wanted 4 gifs at 540px width and 150px height. However to achieve the look I was going for, the consistent, smooth gradient and the overlapping sparkles, I had to place it all in one canvas sooo that’s 150px * 4

STEP 2: Pick up the gradient tool and choose two colors you want to go with. I was actually really going through google images of the vaporwave aesthetic today, so you can say I copied my color choice off of that, haha. I chose #ffa3fa (pink) for my first colour, swapped the swatch and chose #af90cc for the second color

STEP 3: Select the linear type of gradient (pictured below as the selected option) and lay it out on your canvas. I’m going to assume you know how so I won’t elaborate on that :))

STEP 4: Next is the fun part, at least, it’s fun for me cause it’s actually the trick to getting that smooth transition through 4 different gifs. Get your slice tool (pictured below) 

and drag it all over your canvas like so

STEP 5: Now right click anywhere on the image and look for ‘Divide Slice’ (pictured below)

When you’ve clicked on it, you’re going to see two options. ‘Divide Horizontally Into’ and ‘Divide Vertically Into’. For the purposes of this tutorial, we’re going to tick the horizontal option. Since we want 4 gifs, input that in the box. It’s going to look like this

STEP 5: It’s time to lay on the text! I clicked on my text tool and picked the font ‘Arial’ with these settings (don’t forget to set the text color to white!) 

Apply a simple stroke to our text layer with these settings

STEP 6: Some people like to create a box for their text but I’m too lazy for that so I just set the text tool on the image directly. To ensure our text is centered on it’s little ‘slice’, grab your rectangular marquee tool and select the area of the first slice box.

Now let’s switch to the move tool and take a look at these things on top. I have no idea if this is common knowledge, but it’s really simple anyway so I’ll just speed through it

From left to right, the first option aligns the layer/object at the very top of the selection. The one in the first red circle aligns at its vertical center, and the one after that aligns it with the very bottom. After that, you can probably guess that the next one aligns the layer to the very left, the one in the circle at the horizontal center and the last one to the very right. We want the two red circles, of course, and this is often the case. Click on those two and watch your text bend according to the move tool’s will, lololol.

STEP 7: It’s now time to warp our text! Switch to your text tool again and click on the warp tool I marked with a red circle (pictured below)

This window will pop up

Bend at +50 is a bit much so I adjusted it to +16. Watch the text…warp…lololol.

STEP 8: Now duplicate your text layer by hitting ctrl+j on your keyboard, or do it by mouse right click whatever :)) Make sure the duplicated layer, probably named “______ copy” sits under the original layer, so drag it downwards

Do that two more times so you have “I need somebody copy 2″ and “I need somebody copy 3″. Put them all under the original text layer.

STEP 9: Get your move tool again and click on the “I need somebody copy″ layer and press your down arrow key 3 times–or personal preference really. Now click on your “I need somebody copy 2″ and your down arrow key 6 times–or personal preference again. Now you’ve achieved the look of two of the gifs in the set!! 

To get the look of the top and bottom ones, select your “I need somebody copy 3″ layer and tap on the up arrow key 3 times–or personal preference, you know the drill. If you don’t want that blurred, optical illusion looking effect, you can just delete that layer and move on lmao.

Here’s a summary, I renamed all the layers according to what you need to do to that layer to get the effect

Now just do that 3 more times from Step 5 to 9 to fill the 3 boxes left. If you’re lazy like me, you’ll find out a way to make it go faster hahah (hint: duplicate and just retype the text layers, then center) 

For the last one that says ‘any goddamn body’ I actually made the text a bit smaller so it doesn’t mess with the symmetry. About size 16 I think. Here’s what you should have after all that:

STEP 10: Let’s step away from this for now and open our sparkle gif. Switch to timeline mode by clicking the option inside the red circle below.

Select all the layers of the gif once in timeline mode and right click, convert to smart object.

STEP 11: We’re almost done!!! Switch back to the graphic’s window and open your timeline. “Create a video timeline” for this graphic so we can place the sparkles on it! Once that’s done, drag the sparkle layer onto the graphic like so

As you can see, I literally dragged the ‘converted smart object layer’ of the pixel sparkles onto the graphic. Sketchy, but it works lololol.

STEP 12: You’re going to see that this sparkle layer is actually pretty big. It can already fit the first two boxes. Having said that, you only need to duplicate sparkle layer again and move it to cover the bottom two boxes, and we’re nearly done!!! omg yaaay

STEP 13: Last step yaaaay!!! Don’t forget to trim the gif only up to the duration of the sparkles!!

Time to save it! You’ll notice the gif has slices itself, just save it normally and photoshop will do the work of saving them as 4 separate gifs for you. Don’t forget to set the looping option to forever!!

okie that’s it!!! we’re good. Congratulations for finishing my amateur tutorial lmao *shakes your virtual hand*

if anything’s unclear, drop me an ask!! I hope I was able to do an ok tutorial ikasjdijasidjiasd thank you for your interest (i feel like a sales person)

[thatonemellark]

Prompt! Could you write more on the au of gleggie with 3 boys?

Here you go, nonny :) 

“Momma.”

“Momma!”

Maggie cracked one eye open, feeling a tiny finger pokingher cheek. She smiles when she sees 4-year-old Ricky standing at her bedside.The grey light of early dawn illuminates his tiny face, which has a wide grinspread across it.

Ricky grins when he sees her eyes open and begins to bouncein spot.

“Momma!”

“Hi baby!”

Ricky grins and begins to babble to her. Her baby boysuffers from a speech impediment, making his words hard to understand. Her poorbaby boy was nonverbal until he was 3 years old. Now, Denise works with himeveryday, helping him to learn to annunciate his words and form his speech.

She knows it frustrates him, the fact that no one in theirfamily can understand him except for a few words. He often throws temper tantrumsbecause of his frustration of not being able to be understood.

Ricky continues to babble to her as she reaches over andpulls him into bed. She sets him in between her and Glenn.

“Daddy!”

“Shhhh,” Maggie brushes his hair out of his eyes, “Daddy’ssleeping, baby boy.”

Ricky smiles at her and leans his head down onto her belly,which is round with the early stages of pregnancy. Her whole family ragged onher and Glenn for a week when they announced their 4th pregnancy tothem. Jokes were made about litters of pups and repopulating the world bythemselves, to which they just rolled their eyes.

She wasn’t shocked to learn from Dr. Carson that she wasgoing to have another boy.

Ricky places his tiny hand on her belly. She isn’t sure howmuch he understands, but he seems to grasp the concept that his baby brother isin momma’s belly.

“You love your baby brother, don’t you?” She asks whilestroking his hair. He nods and rubs his hand over her belly.

He begins to babble again.

“Say bro-ther.” She says.

Ricky looks at her and tries to repeat the word.

“Good job buddy!” Glenn’s hand reaches out and he strokeshis son’s cheek. Glenn looks over at her and smiles. She leans over and kisseshis lips, wishing him a good morning.

Ricky squeals with excitement, “Momma, daddy!”

“Guess we don’t get to sleep in today.” Glenn sighs as herubs a hand over his face. Maggie smiles at her husband.

“Go back to sleep, I’ll take him downstairs.” She throws onan old hoodie and sets Ricky on his feet.

“Come on baby boy.” He grabs her hand and she leads him outof the bedroom.

“Go downstairs. Momma will be right there.” She gentlynudges him towards the stairs. Once Ricky is safely at the bottom, she gentlycreeps into her son’s bedroom.

8-year-old Ben is asleep in his bed, dead to the world.Sprawled on his back, his tiny body somehow takes up all the space in the bed. Starfishing, as Glenn called it. Glennsays that she sleeps the same way. She presses a kiss to his forehead and thenmoves over to Hershel.

Her oldest child turns 10 years old today. He lay curled onhis side, his old, ragged stuffed elephant tucked safely in his arms. He deniesthat he sleeps with it, but every morning she peeks in to see him cuddling theold thing.

She brushes his hair back and kisses his head, “HappyBirthday, baby boy.”

She gently closes the door to their room and presses herhands to her belly. She can’t believe Hershel is already 10.

In Alexandria, a child may venture beyond the gates for thefirst time at 10 years old. Today, Hershel is being taken beyond the gates forthe very first time.

It makes her stomach turn. She knows he will be safe. Glenn,Rick, Daryl, Tara, Abraham and Michonne will be with him to protect him, butshe still can’t fathom the thought of her sweet baby boy being out there.

She’s pulled out of her thoughts by a loud crash fromdownstairs and a tiny voice echoing, “Oops, momma, oops!!”

Later that day, she stands by the gate. Ben and Ricky are attheir schooling lessons, while Hershel stands nervously in front of her. Hefiddles with the knife at his belt. Glenn, Rick, Daryl, Michonne, Tara andAbraham stand just outside the open gate, waiting for Hershel to join them.

“You listen to them while you are out there. Do everythingthey say!” Maggie tells her child.

“I know Ma, I will.”

She places a baseball cap on his head.

“And don’t you dare wander off! Keep them in sight at alltimes! And stay within your father’s sight. And if you see a walker, don’t-”

“Christ Maggie, you’re smothering the kid. He’ll be fine.”She pulls Hershel into a hug and flips Abraham the bird behind her son’s back.Abe bursts out laughing.

She pulls away from the hug and frames Hershel’s face in herhands.

“I love you so much, little goose.” She presses a kiss tohis forehead. Hershel kisses her cheek.

“I love you too, Mama. I’ll find you something neat whileI’m out there.”

She can feel tears burning her eyes.

“Oh Ma, don’t cry!” He pulls her into a hug. She waves himoff.

“I’m not, I’m not. It’s the baby. Go. Get out of here. Besafe.” She presses one more kiss to his forehead.

Hershel stands at the open gate. She watches as he takes adeep breath and then steps outside the gate for the first time in his life.

“Come on, pancakes, lets get a move on. We are burningprecious daylight.”

She watches as they walk down the road. The gate toAlexandria begins to shut.

“Hey Uncle Abe, now that I’m 10 and I’m joining you guys onruns, can you tell me how in the world you came up with Pancakes for my nickname?”

She laughs as she watches Abe pull her son in a playfulheadlock.

“I’ll tell ya when you’re older son.”

Hours later, she’s standing in the kitchen, making an afterschool snack for Ricky and Ben.

“But it’s not fair!” Ben argues with her.

“It is fair,” She sets the apple slices in front of Rickyand Ben, “When you’re 10, Daddy will take you outside the gates too.”

He shoves an apple slice in his mouth and mumbles, “Judithgot to go out before she was 10.”

“Those were different times,” She snaps, “and she was just ababy then. We had nowhere to go, had no choice but to have her on the road. Nowif I hear one more word about this, you’re gonna have muck duty for the rest ofthe week.”

Ben shuts his mouth, the threat of cleaning up horse poopsilencing any argument he had.

After the boys eat their snack, she sits with them at thetable and helps them with their homework. Ben has a quiz on edible plantsFriday, so she takes the time to make flashcards with him. Ricky circlespictures of cartoon drawings that demonstrate properly holding a knife.

Carol comes over to help her make dinner for their family.She gives Ben and Ricky a kiss (and slyly slips them each a cookie) and thenshe rubs her hand across Maggie’s belly.

She sends the boys outside to help Judith set the table withFather Gabriel. As she carries a big bowl of salad out to the table, she seesher husband and son walking towards the house. Rick, Michonne, Daryl, Tara andAbe follow behind. Her heart speeds up when she sees them all covered in blood,but they each sport huge smiles. Judith runs to Hershel and gives her bestfriend a huge hug.

Hershel runs up to her, “Ma! You should’ve seen it!! A herdtrapped us! They were everywhere! We were surrounded!”

She gasps, her eyes flying to her husband. He grins at her,“It’s true. Hersh was amazing. He didn’t hesitate. He jumped right in.”

Daryl pipes in, “Lil’ hell raiser did great, a true pro.”

“Yeah, it’s like he’s been slaying walkers his whole life.”Michonne says as she ruffles his hair.

“Son, go take a shower before we eat. Quickly, we have toshower too.” Glenn claps his son on the shoulder. Hershel gives his mom a kissand then runs inside.

“How bad was it?” She immediately asks.

“It wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. Maybe a few dozen. Wewere scavenging at a feed store and they just came out of nowhere. But babe, hedidn’t hesitate.”

Tara comes steps forward, Ricky cuddled in her arms, “Mags,he saved my life today. One snuck up behind me, got the jump on me. It wasthree times his size but he just went for it. He saw I was in danger and hesaved me.”

“My baby boy did that?” She feels a wave of pride.

“You should be very proud, Maggie. He’s gonna beat thisworld.” Rick says to her.

She smiles. She looks at Hershel as he walks into the house,then to Ben, who stands with Judith, practicing his knife skills and then theRicky, who shows Uncle Daryl his homework and points out what plants are safeto eat.

The little one in her belly stirs, and she knows he will bejust as smart, brave and tough as his brothers.

Glenn presses a kiss to her forehead. They may have had toadapt to this world. But this crazy world is the only place her children know.She’s confident that they will beat this world. She just knows it.

[waldos-writing]

The Dig Initiative: Chapter 3

The Recruit

“You’re a tough sonovabitch, aren’t you?”

So it goes like this. Say you’re newly hired in a big company, got a lot of promises right out of college and lucky enough there are health benefits and actual cost-of-living wage, holy shit, it’s a dream. You get to learn on the job, work with interesting people, partnered up with a smart woman who has goals and ambition in spades.

Then say you have to go out on an unofficial assignment, off the books, don’t tell anybody kind of things. Do you have loyalty to the company that is putting a roof over your head and purpose in your life? Or do you follow your partner because whatever she’s doing is the right thing? Do you go by your head or your gut, your wallet or your soul?

“You think I wouldn’t see? It was right there, right there!”

So then say you find yourself getting kicked in the ribs in an alley behind a soup kitchen. A punch to the face feels like it had knocked in your eye, another to the nose broke it, then the jaw, the throat, and the kidneys until you’re down on the ground, holding your blood and organs inside. That’s how it goes.

“Think you can come in here? Huh? Think you can come in here like nothing?”

And then they stopped. Just like that.

The agent couldn’t see what had saved him from more violence from a large drunk guy with bad teeth and red eyes. There were stars exploding from his broken nose. Christ, it was like lightening. He preferred the fever to a goddamn broken nose, but that’s the way the world took him that day, it seemed. Broken nose. Olsen owed him, that’s what it meant. He stared at the bright pain behind his eyes until he heard a new voice.

“Alright, son, alright, that’s enough.”

“He took some of my share!”

That was the guy who clocked him in the face and accused him of stealing a slice of bread. A slice of bread. Seriously. Olsen was right, the world needed a big big change if a missing slice of bread meant getting the shit kicked out of you. Maybe. The young agent had grown up pretty comfortable in his middle class suburban home. Maybe he didn’t know shit about the world until right then. He tasted blood and wiped at the slimy ink flowing from his nostrils.

“He robbed me, Father. He robbed me, goddamnit.”

“Then you turn a blind eye, right?”

“But it was my share!”

They were clearly struggling. He still couldn’t see straight, but he could hear grunting and cursing between the two of them. He did his damndest to get up and face them, but the world tilted violently and he slapped the ground with his shoulder. Got a good view of their feet before he righted himself. It appeared that the priest had come out of nowhere. He was all black robes and dark hair and a strong arm. The priest had the upper hand and held the drunk guy’s arms above his heads. Heads? Great, double vision. Perfect.

“I didn’t steal anything,” the kid moaned behind his hands.

“You know that and maybe I know that, but this guy here seems to think you did.”

“Aaagaaamf.” No, that wasn’t right. It was all a mess up there. The kid cleared his throat and tried again. “Didn’t. Didn’t do it.”

“Alright. If you say so. Now you.” The priest was talking to the big guy again, who had gone limp. Sack of sad potatoes pouting at the ground for being caught. “I know I’ve seen you around here plenty of times and not once have you caused any trouble. What’s got you so riled up?”

“He stole from me. He stole form me! I saw him. I saw it in his greedy little hands, Father, he—”

“Alright!” The priest raised a hand, trying to hush the inebriated fellow. “Alright, alright. We’re done, aren’t we? We’re all using our inside voices.”

This would have been funnier, since they were outside, in an alley, the sun saying hello through a hole in the cloud bank overhead. This was funny. The kid didn’t laugh, though, because he was in pain and he was pissed. Olsen sent him on the dumbest mission he’d heard of and he was starting to think she was insane. She was, of course. They had all been crazy right before….

The dumpster was really setting the scene. It was a big boxy reminder that the world was a crap shoot and they were all just a step away from smacking head first into it. That part was a little more literal. The sweet decay nearby stung, almost made him gag. The agent was about to press his back into the sticky metal to get to his feet, but he had enough of his bearings to just avoid that entirely.

“If you go back inside, ask the nice woman with the yellow hat for an extra serving. Tell her I said so and tell her I know she knows everyone says that all the time, but I really say so, extra sugar on top. All that. You hear me?”

“Yellow hat?” The big guy was settling down. He was calm enough that the priest had let go of his forearm and he stumbled away, but he was good. He didn’t have a fucking broken nose. “Yellow…that rag-head in there?”

“Well.”

The priest was tall, not as tall as the other guy. He was lean, dark hair, curly around the ears, graying at the sides. Silver temples, salt and pepper kind of thing, that’s what they would say. He looked so calm, his thin face smooth, emotionless. Thin eyebrows cured to the shape of his forehead, but they didn’t crease or anything. Didn’t look mad, that was it. And he almost smiled, it seemed, when he turned around, like he was going to go back inside and forget the both of them. He closed his eyes, letting it go, letting it go, letting it…. But then he pivoted on his heel and he decked the big guy hard in the mouth. It wasn’t a very loud sound, nothing like you think in the movies. It was a solid hit, hard enough to chip a tooth. The big guy went reeling. The priest grabbed his hand and shook it, trying hard not to give away how bad it hurt right up until, “Christ!” He kissed his bright red knuckles. “Ahhhhh sonvabitch. Son of a bitch, Alice, you owe me. Alright alright alllllllRIGHT, Chuuuuhhhhuhhhrist! Ugh. Broke it. Broke it! Mm! Get up.”

“You—”

“Get. Up.”

The big guy stood, wobbling on his feet. It was hard to tell, but he was on the verge of tears. Not every day a guy got punched in the face by a priest.

“Now, I know, I know, listen.” They were close now. The priest had a gentle hand—the one sans the potentially broken knuckle from delivering the punch—on the man’s back. Poor drunk caved in on himself, wiping snot from his nose. “It can’t be like this, can it? You see the world out there? Look at me. It’s okay. That world out there is cold. It’s hard. It’s a hungry place. Don’t bring that in here. Huh? You leave that hate out in the snow. You let it freeze out there. And when you go inside and ask the woman in a yellow hat for a second helping, you tell her everything I said, you apologize, and you say thank you. Now say ‘thank you.’”

“Th-th-thank you.” He was practically blubbering. It was pathetic.

“You’re welcome, son,” said the priest and patted him again.

The big fellow waddled back inside with more snuffles and apologies on his way. With all the steam and rage boiled out of him, he was just a blob, soft, with the round ruddy face of a child left in the cold.

“Now, you.”

The priest came back, pointed at the bloody agent near the trash. He was resting on his knees, looking down at an old concert tee stained a bright red down the middle. Civilian clothes, that’s what Olsen said to wear. Was she going to pay to get the shirt cleaned, because, whatever, Victory Songbirds was a whatever band that played bluegrass covers, but the agent liked them, damnit. He made-out with Samantha Kistensky at that concert. Just wearing it made him feel better, more confident maybe, like the prettiest girl in school had her eye on him and he was fucking pumped form it. Like he’d get the quarterback’s number for shits and giggles. Like he could do whatever for Olsen, and that was the point, right? Do whatever it took to make things right.

The pants were from Target, so, who cares.

“You really didn’t steal that bread of his?”

“You really a priest?” the agent shot back. He groaned again, but wasn’t as dizzy as before.

“So, we got a mouth on us? Good.” The priest folded his arms. “Means you still got your head. Who are you, anyways?”

“I’m a nonnie mouse, so fuck you.”

“That mouth again.”

“I heard you too. You took the Lord’s name in vain, Father. How’s that sit with you? You got…whoa.” He had stood up too fast and the world went dark. His legs swayed beneath him, suddenly unable to chart the swirling pavement that was trying hard to become quick sand. He crashed down with his head way too close to that dumpster.

“Alright, tough guy, come on.” The priest put an arm around him, picked him up, hell, supported him. It was such a damn kindness. “Now you. I’ve never seen you around here.”

“So you keep track of every poor bastard that comes through your doors?”

“I try.”

“Right.”

“I’m Father Barkley.” He led them towards the door into the soup kitchen. “You want to give me your name as, you know, a common courtesy? Or do you want me to just call you a little shit-kicker while you’re here?”

“Again,” said the agent and pulled away. “Are you supposed to talk like that?”

Father Barkley shrugged. There wasn’t an ounce of malice there. Nothing dangerous bristling underneath. Not a threat. Not a threat if you didn’t make fun of the girls in the kitchen, at least. Why did Olsen ever think he was anything dangerous?

“This is important,” Olsen had said. “They will come together and destroy everything we’ve built here. All of the unconverted people, all of them, will eventually try to rise up. And I know exactly where it’s coming from.”

They’d met off campus in Langley Park, close to curfew. They weren’t dressed up for patrol. Olsen had her hair down, tight red curls that looked like they’d eat your hand if you stuck your fingers in them. The agent wasn’t sure why he wanted to do that anyways. She had on her black slacks, her button up, which was a little sheer, just enough so that you could see the faded imprint of a beige bra underneath. He swore he wasn’t looking, it was just there, it was obvious, he knew. Of course he knew. Of course Olsen knew, she could read whatever he thought and he was augmenting her the whole time, so he didn’t think about it. He thought about the sloppy gyro he’d purchased off the street vendor who was closing up for the day. He was thinking about his shoes and the grass and red hair.

“You know, nobody likes it when you use that paranoid ‘They’ kinda talk, right?”

“I know. I don’t care if it’s true,” she said.

“It’s so important, why are you sending me? Why not some of the senior staff? I mean, you’ve been talking to folks too, so….”

“I don’t know them, I can’t trust them.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

What they were doing was they were going against direct orders. They were coloring outside the lines. The agent thought this was stupid on their part, but, hey, Olsen had a plan. She’d never let him down before.

The gyro was a poor choice. He crammed it into his mouth and the tzatziki sauce was all over his face, dribbling down his chin. He didn’t have enough napkins. Whatever, Olsen had seen him worse. She knew every little part inside his brain, what did it matter if he had food on his face?

“So, let me get this straight. You know where that fugitive Rorshire is. You know his alias, you know his work, and you know that I know that he’s a high priority transfer at this point. So tell me what you want here.”

Olsen didn’t say anything helpful that night. She didn’t say a lot of helpful things a lot of the time. Sure, she was strong, she knew what she was doing, but she still had a few screws loose. The board was afraid the augmenter was also short of a clean recovery and had paired the two after they were done with their trials.  Maybe that’s why he liked her so much. Two misfits on the Island of Misfit Toys.

“Report back to me,” she said.

“Right,” he said.

“I’ll get you another napkin.”

“Thanks.”

There was a tiny problem with the whole venture. What the hell was he going to report? Uh, yeah, so, he’s as threatening as lead paint, but he punched some guy over a damsel in distress. Send four empties to collect, he’s threat level 1.

There was more. There had to be more. Olsen knew something about this guy, so it seemed the agent had to follow her advice. He pinched his nose and trailed after “Father Barkley,” wobbly at first, but quickly gaining his footing. When he didn’t fumble so much, Father Barkley stopped supporting him and held the door out. They smiled at each other, betraying nothing going on inside. Wasn’t too hard, was it? A little heavy stalking? Probably the easiest assignment he’d been given.

“So, hey, Shit-kicker.” Father Barkley put a hand on the youth’s back again, gentle, reassuring. It was like a father talking to his son. It hurt, it was so soft and gentle and caring; it was gross. “How long has it been you’ve had a hot meal?”

Oh Christ, don’t have pity on me, he thought.

“Better yet,” the agent said instead, “you got something I can take for my nose? He jabbed it hard into my skull and I feel ready to fall, sir.” Ugh, sir. Sir? It made his tongue recoil. Sir. Shoot me.

“Well, I’ve got some aspirin around here somewhere. I think Mohan has a key to the box. We’ll ask him. Sound good?”

“Sure.”

“Good.”

“Yeah.”

“Alright then.”

“Alright.”

They could go on and on like this. A dick measuring content with a priest.

Mohan, it turned out, didn’t have the key. The agent was forced to follow Mohan around the kitchen on a mini-mission. Someone had handed him a rag, which he pressed to his face, and by the time they found Archie, the towhead with a pressed linen shirt and the sniffles, the agent’s nose had stopped bleeding. Archie led them to where they kept the lockbox with the drugs. It was next to a dirty microwave stamped with a post-it note that read DO NOT. He didn’t get a good look in the box, but saw a few bottles, some bandages, and the wrapper to one of those blue rubber things they put on your thumb when you cut it open.

“Here,” said Mohan and gave him two white pills. Archie was locking the box back up behind him.

“And I can have some water too, right?”

Mohan shrugged. He was a short guy, glasses, black hair, chubby, and a line of acne around the bottom of his chin. He didn’t look malicious, militant. None of these guys were radicals. The dude near the soup cauldron was singing fucking show tunes, who the hell was supposed to be the Big Bad here? Olsen was going to be so bored with his report.

The agent clapped the pills to his mouth and swallowed them dry. Nobody was impressed. He followed Mohan back to the main area and was handed a tray, a bowl of stew with potatoes and meat and vegetables, and chopped cabbage.

“Oh, uh,” he said to the food and to a woman who just so happened to have a bright yellow knitted cap. She smiled; it was warm and kind. Melted his cold bitter heart. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Take a seat wherever you like.”

“Uh,” he said again. “Uh-huh.”

There was a table with a seat near the back of the cafeteria. Everyone was bunched in groups of five or six, taking up big round tables. Half of them were in ratty clothes, the usual attire. The other half looked like they’d just finished a shift at Wal-Mart or as some secretary for an accounting firm or something. He couldn’t believe how many were his age. There were a lot of guys, tired, bearded, miserable to their bones. Women huddled together, watched their kids. The drunk who had punched him was sitting with a group who had that construction crew look. A lot of them needed coats against the cold, the snow still up to his shins. Nobody would be seeing grass until maybe the end of May, if they were lucky.

The agent took a seat at the back table. There were a few people around, each of them with bowed heads. He spilled some of his soup onto the tray, which started to soak into the purple and green cabbage. He half expected someone to snap and try to steal his food. Was there irony that he didn’t have bread? It was best to just eat quietly, same as everyone else.

“How we doin’?” he asked his hunched neighbors. They stirred, cocked their heads, mumbled something low and soothing and lost on him. “That Father Barkley, huh? He just goes on and on all the time or what?”

“Or what, h’yeah.” A short, ashy kid to his left, his gloves frayed so badly that the thread occasionally dragged through the broth of his stew, snorted. There was a fresh wound on the side of his head, shiny and red against his short curls. “Got a story. You want mine?”

“Well, sure.”

“Ah, fuck you. What’re you doing?”

“Same as you,” the agent shot back. “Why? You got a problem all of a sudden?’

“What happened to your face?”

“I could ask the same,” the agent said and jabbed his spoon towards the kid like he was holding a shiv.

“He’s an asshole,” said the woman to his left, someone who looked like she’d be home in a library with her thick round tortious shell glasses and fair hair twisted up in a bun, the back shaved to show a discreet tattoo like everyone was getting in the 30s. The woman spoke out of the corner of her mouth, like she was delivering secrets at a rendezvous.

“You’re an asshole,” the gray kid said.

“Micah,” said the guy with long blond hair and a beard. He had several medical bracelets up his arms, tokens from Sanctuary visits. “You know Ben got him.”

“Ben got him” the woman said, nodding.

“Who’s Ben?”

“Ben got him near the dumpster,” the woman said through the corner of her mouth. “’Nother bread scare. If you want your cabbage, say so, but can I have it?”

“Father Barkley’s got it all covered,” said the blonde guy and they all nodded together, mumbling in a disjointed prayer. The gray kid, Micah, tapped the table with his fingers, dot dot dee dot dot dee dot dot. The blonde nodded along with it. “Father Barkley keeps it level, right?”

“Did you do something to Ben?” Micah asked.

“Who? The guy who broke my nose?”

“Did you?”

“No! Dude broke my nose, I didn’t do anything.”

They nodded. All of them. People nearby were doing it too. The agent had a weird feeling in his gut that this was a cult and he was about to be sacrificed and served up as next Wednesday’s long pork special.

“Still an asshole,” said the woman into her shoulder.

“Still an asshole,” the gray kid said louder, tapping the table again. Dot dot dee dot dot dee dot dot.

“Bread scare,” said the blonde guy.

“Bread scare,” said the woman and jerked her head from her left shoulder to her right.

“He’ll do that,” said Micah. “Big Ben.”

“He will,” they answered and then, “Big Ben.”

It clicked, light bulb ding and everything. They were being manipulated. One of the three at the table had a low influential field, a physical manipulator with a budding active talent. Somebody had to be augmenting, but he couldn’t see the field, the delicate lace stretched from one partner to the other. That was something he always saw between Olsen and himself, like a leash. But these were low level, probably wouldn’t register much on the Westwood scale. They were nodding. All of them. The agent wasn’t affected because he was stronger than them, he could repel it without even thinking. But he put his spoon in his mouth and tongued the greasy meat, the chalky potato chunks, nodding along with them. There were wild NARA patients out here and don’t you know, they never went through the proper channels. No Westwood Trials. Now this was an assignment.

It was more dangerous than he knew. The agent blinked, slow to churn out the thought. You idiot. She said, didn’t she? This place is crawling. Shit on a brick, they’re coming together in a group. Pairing off. She was right, wasn’t she? Us versus them. You gotta keep your eyes open, man, you’re outnumbered.

“He will,” the agent said at last, nodding in time with the rest of them, letting himself fall into it a little so as not to be caught. “Big Ben.”

Nobody spoke for a while. It was tense and maybe the agent was wound too tight to play it cool. Micah, gray kid with a head wound, relaxed. Everyone else complied, dropping their shoulders or rolling their heads. They went back to eating and chatting and whatever was normal. What was normal anyways?

You are the lock. You are the chain. You are the hand. It was a mantra he picked up back in the Westwood Trials. It was destiny, right? You are the lock. He tried to remember the path and the last dream he had before he was sent to Locke Security. You are the chain. The fever, Christ, the fever. Broken nose hurt, it hurt, it hurt, but he remembered the fever too. He had to keep saying it. You are the hand. You are the lock. You are the chain. You are the hand. You are the lock. You are the chain. You are the hand. You are—

Someone started choking nearby. Everyone was up in arms as somebody gasped, throat clicking and hands slapping their strained throat. The agent got out of his seat as someone from the kitchen rushed to deliver hard blows to the back of the chocking victim. Wasn’t going to do jack if they kept it up, but they were quick to stand behind them and start ramming their fist up into their ribcage. Had to break a rib. That was the way to do it, had to break a goddamn rib. Then someone else threw a tray at the wall and it splattered like a Jackson Pollock. The agent put his bowl on a rotating rack set into one of the walls, which followed a track into the kitchen. There were a lot of people running to the choking victim. Somebody had to take care of the psycho who threw the tray, what were they even thinking? A pretty woman next to the kitchen door stood on her toes to get a better look at the crowd.

“Hey,” said the agent as he slid up next to her, crossing his arms. Too skinny to hide the blood stain, really. He needed to start going to the gym or something. She wasn’t even interested in him. Maybe she wasn’t a big fan of Victory Songbirds. He pressed on anyways. “What’s a guy gotta do to get a job around here?”

“No jobs,” she said absently and then shot him a look. She was angry? Confused? Disgusted. No, scared. It was a hard mix to read. “We volunteer. Hey, what the hell is going on out there, Chrys?” She yelled back into the kitchen. “Chrys?”

“So, whatever, volunteer,” he said, trying not to sound put off. “Excuse the vocabulary. Maybe I wanna volunteer here.”

“Chrys, we got a scene. Where’s Barkley? Father Barkley! We’re gonna have them back here in a second, can you get out here, please?”

“What brought you here? Like, awesome, love the volunteering thing. You care. That’s great. Maybe I care too, right? Maybe I wanna help people.”

“Look, guy, can you hang back a second? Like—”

She gestured out as the guy who had been singing to the soup cauldron came over and saw the crowd rolling into the choking man. They started to head into the pile of bodies, asking people to move back, please, move back, and Oh my god, Becky, call an ambulance! Please, everyone. Give him some space!

“So, I’ll stand over here then,” said the agent as the crowd tipped from frenzy to madness. People were clawing at each other under the stress of one miserable little life getting snuffed out. “So chew your food, people, how is it that hard?”

Just a casual once over showed him a room to the right of the kitchen, opposite the big hall with beds for the homeless. The room wasn’t even locked, holy shit, so he sealed himself inside until the commotion was over. It was a tiny room, barely enough space for a cot and a trunk of clothes. He pressed for a sensor over the bed, but the little black strip was more likely electric tape than an access port for a mounted vido. He sat on the bed. Smelled stale, like the sour scent of sweat and age and dirt. Something shifted in the corner. The agent almost leapt to kick it before he noticed the very old cat. Really old. It was scraggly with a chewed up ear and tired yellow eyes that looked like they had seen some shit. He almost said hello to the creature, not sure if he should offer a hand or not. Those nails might scratch him deep and infect him with god knows what. Wasn’t worth the risk.

There were a few women’s clothes next to the trunk along with a pair of boxers and tube socks. He thought maybe the priest lived there, but there wasn’t a cross on the wall or a bible or anything. And the women’s clothes? Well, dress however you like in the privacy of your own home. The agent stood up from the bed and toed away some clothes, finding absolutely nothing exciting. Whatever was happening outside started to die down. He’d bide his time, snoop around the kitchen some, find a pantry or a cupboard to set a little audio bug, and stay in the shelter overnight until he blipped back a report on a public wifi.

“Don’t go ratting on me,” he said to the cat who was licking itself. It purred.

The agent waved at it and left the room just as quietly and discreetly as he had entered.

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