#sherlock/original female character

[queeringclassiclit]

Irene Adler

from the Sherlock Holmes series (A Scandal in Bohemia) by Arthur Conan Doyle

[ashbrat488]

Ashbrat488 Fanfic Masterlist

Chris Evans

Ransom Drysdale - State of Grace - Complete

Grace Carson was friends with Ransom Drysdale throughout school. Best friends actually, but only in private, their friendship breaking apart after graduation. She went to college, coming back to Boston to work at Harlan's publishing company as an editor. But when Harlan dies, she's thrown back into Ransom's life at the bequest of Harlan himself. Will they be able to get along well enough to carry out Harlan's wishes or will their differences just be too much, leaving Ransom without his inheritance.

Henry Cavill

Henry Cavill AU - Foul Play - Complete

Millicent "Milly" Bailey loses her mother just before her high school graduation and decides to move to England with her newly found father, Darren, she didn't know about until she turned 16. Now she's an American from a small town in Iowa, thrown into a new country and a new culture at one of the most prestigious colleges in the world. She's quiet and mostly likes to keep to herself until she catches the eye of a handsome rugby player, Henry Cavill. Henry thinks it's funny to tease Milly, bullying her with the help of his friends. That is until his last year of school where he really needs to buckle down and obtain the proper grades if he wants to be scouted for the England Rugby Team. Neither of them are happy when the dean, Milly's father, puts them together in their last year for Milly to help him graduate. Can they learn to see eye to eye and get along or will everything fall apart before graduation?

Captain Syverson - Flower In The Desert - Complete

Violet Becker is the daughter of the Major General, and despite her ranking, she refuses special treatment when she gets sent to the middle east in the midst of war. Constantly underestimated her whole life, she finishes medical school and is itching to put her new skills to work. She is left under the command of Edward Syverson who has sworn to her father to protect her. Can he keep his promise or is having to take care of a woman in the middle of a warzone too much for even him?

August Walker - Candy - Ongoing

August Walker, the CEO of a renowned Security Firm located in the bustling streets of Washington DC. His life is a constant juggling act, burdened by the weight of stressful responsibilities. The strain on his marriage is palpable, with his relationship barely holding itself together. However, he remains tethered to his wife primarily for the sake of their son, whom he adores dearly. To find solace amidst the chaos, August forms a unique bond with an escort who goes by the name "Candy." Their clandestine meetings become a refuge for him, an escape from the pressures of his daily existence. For over nine months, their encounters grow in frequency, and August finds himself becoming increasingly possessive of Candy's time, although he strives to keep their interactions as casual as she desires. However, their relationship takes an unexpected turn when August accidentally discovers Candy's true identity. Intrigued by this revelation, he begins to interfere in her life and even meddles in the affairs of her boyfriend, who coincidentally works for him. As August's feelings deepen, he wrestles with the idea of whether he can make Candy choose him over her current life.

Drabbles

Calahan Skogman (Baseball AU) - Sliding Into Home

Sebastian Stan AU - Hope In Love

Bucky Barnes - Torn Pages

Cole Turner (Chris Evans) - Codename: Turtledove

Ransom Drysdale - Speak Now

Steve Rogers - Happy Birthday Captain

Jake Jensen - Dessert

Ari Levinson/Steve Rogers MFM - Pure Smut

Lloyd Hansen/August Walker MFM - Pure Smut

Sherlock (Henry Cavill) - Sherlock And His Cane

Ewan McGregor - Better Than Revenge

Author's Note: I only write for readers over 18. I write a lot of smut. Please do not engage or read if you are under 18. I *do* take requests... I also have a lot more stories on Wattpad (including a lot of Chris Evans) if you would like to check them out there.

Also, all my female characters are always original. No, I do not write y/n or reader stories. I prefer to create actual characters. Just my preference

[darkwitch1999]

☕🥱A Random Headcanon: How Marc Got The Coffee Part I 🥱☕

Collège Françoise Dupont: Boiler Room

Nathaniel: (visibly annoyed) So we’re really doing this, huh?

Nino: Yep.

(Down in the boiler room, Nino had set up a small desk with a desk lamp, a radio that played what sounded like the soundtrack of an old detective movie, a stack of books, and a manila file folder. The teen wore a fake mustache and an old-style detective costume. On each opposing side of the desk stood two chairs, the one on the right being currently occupied by an exhausted Marc Anciel. The poor, tired writer was suffering from the effects of his caffeine crash and could barely keep his eyes open. His make-up was a dreadful mess from when he had his breakdown earlier, his hair was a frazzled mess, the dark circles encased around his eyes looked as though they had gotten deeper and darker, and his body that had before trembled and twitched so terribly now struggled against the intense feeling of exhaustion. Out of earshot in a corner, Nino and Nathaniel discussed Nino’s plan, which Nathaniel found to be very unnecessary, and annoying, and he would have been against taking any part in this ridiculous plan if the artist was not worried about his partner’s well-being.)

Nino: I’m sorry, Nath, but this is the only way.

Nathaniel: There are more than one, much better ways we could handle this! I don’t think this is best for Marc’s well-being right now. Just look at him! (points to the exhausted writer) He needs sleep!

Nino: Look, I get it. Marc’s crashing down from the caffeine and needs rest. But we have to do this for his own good! We need to find out where or more specifically, who did he get that coffee from! (starts counting off his fingers) The first time this happened he asked you to buy the coffee for him because he knew you didn’t know he couldn’t have it. The second time he took advantage of Rose’s kindness and trusting nature to secure the coffee. This time, however, he must have gone to someone who didn’t know that he couldn’t have coffee, and since no one is fessing up, we will have to find out who the guilty culprit is.

Nathaniel: But couldn’t we just ask him after he’s had time to rest and recover? Interrogating him when he’s in this state just seems too cruel. It feels like we’re treating him like some dangerous criminal. 

Nino: (puts a reassuring hand on Nathaniel’s shoulder) Nath, I don’t want to watch him suffer any more than you do, but I’m afraid it has to be this way to prevent another episode from ever happening again. If we let him sleep first, he’ll have more energy and focus to come up with a lie or ID a scapegoat, and it will be even harder to get Marc to confess the truth. Marc may be more reasonable when he’s off the coffee, but he definitely wouldn’t give up his supplier willingly, especially if he knows that the rest of us don’t know who gave him his fix.

Nathaniel: (shoots Nino an incredulous look) “Supplier”? Really, Nino?

Nino: (defensively) Hey, technically caffeine is considered a drug! I looked it up!

Nathaniel: (crosses his arms) Not an illegal one. Hence why I feel like you are treating Marc like a dangerous criminal.

Nino: Oh come on, Nath! The last thing I want to do is treat Marc like a criminal! 

Nathaniel: (raises an eyebrow) Then what’s with the Sherlock Holmes cosplay?

Nino: Because we’re trying to solve a mystery and I thought it would fit the aesthetic! (sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose).

Nathaniel: (appears hesitant) I still don’t like this….this feels like torture.

Nino: Nath, please trust me. I swear we’re not going to torture Marc. Just give us thirty minutes or so to question him, an hour at most. If he doesn’t confess within that amount of time, we’ll back off and let him get some sleep. On the other hand, if he tells us who supplied him with the coffee before the time is up, we’ll let him sleep sooner. And I promise, I’ll back off if he reaches his limit. Whatever happens during this, I won’t make Marc suffer more than he already has.

(Nathaniel pondered for a moment, considering Nino’s plan and compromise. The artist still felt conflicted about putting his partner through an interrogation while he was so sleep-deprived. He knew how physically exhausting the combination of caffeine withdrawal and insomnia from the previous night was on the writer along with the mental and emotional exhaustion of the pressure that Marc was clearly under mixed in with the aftermath of his breakdown from earlier. Nathaniel wanted Marc to rest. He wanted Marc to get better. He wanted to see that beautifully contagious and unburdened smile spread across his partner’s face again and never to see that strained and unhinged smile or the exhausted frown again. However, as guilty as Nathaniel felt for even considering going along with Nino’s plan, he also knew that Nino made some truthful points to defend his plan. Nathaniel didn’t want to admit it, but Nino was right when he argued that Marc wouldn’t easily name whoever gave him the coffee. Rose and himself were willing to own up to mistakes those times they had given Marc coffee, but this time no one is willing to admit that they had given Marc coffee. And knowing the writer, he would try to play off that “everything was fine” and there was no need to worry about who gave him the coffee, desperately trying to avoid talking about what had been bothering him so much and what was causing all the stress and pressure that he was under in the first place. Marc was never one to be willing to talk about his problems with others and always tried to appear as if everything was okay as best he could because he didn’t want to make others feel worried about him. If they were going to have any chance of finding out how Marc got coffee, now was their best and possibly only time while the writer didn’t have the energy to resist telling the truth.)

Nathaniel: (sighs) Forty minutes. We’ll question him for forty minutes and no more. And when I say “that’s enough”, I mean that’s enough. We won’t push him any farther than he can handle.

Nino: (nods in agreement) Alright, deal! Now that that’s settled, let’s get to it. Get ready to assume your role, good cop!

(Nino took a deep breath in and out as he adjusted his usual demeanor into a more serious demeanor as he now bore a stoic expression on his face. As Nino started walking towards the desk, Nathaniel rolled his eyes in annoyance.)

Nathaniel: (annoyed) Right, forgot that Nino wanted to do “Good Cop, Bad Cop” too.

(The two boys approached the desk where the exhausted writer now had his head face down on the desk, moaning in discomfort. Nino sat in the desk chair opposite the writer while Nathaniel stood next to the cosplaying detective. The “detective” then reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a tube of bubble solution and a bubble wand.)

Nino: (blows bubbles from the bubble wand with a stern look) Rise and shine, Marc.

Nathaniel: (smiles nervously) H-Hey Marc…um…how are you feeling?

(Marc rolls his head to the side, revealing his dreadfully exhausted face to the other two boys.) 

Marc: (moans) My head…feels like it's going to split open…

Nino: (blows another bubble) Mhm. That would be the caffeine withdrawal hangover for you. Though we both already know that you are well familiar with the feeling.

Nathaniel: (shoots Nino a warning look) Nino…

Nino: (clears his throat, unfazed by Nathaniel’s glares) Anyway, enough beating around the bush. It’s time we all talk.

(Marc lifted his head off the table to give the “detective” an annoyed, tired look. His expression then turned into one of confusion as he took notice of the outfit that the young boy was wearing. The writer turned to look at Nathaniel with an eyebrow raised in confusion.)

Marc: Nath, why is Nino dressed as Sherlock Holmes?

Nathaniel: (sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose) I have asked the same question, Marc. 

Marc: Wait, does that mean you are supposed to be Watson?

Nathaniel: (shakes his head and glances annoyed at Nino) No, apparently I’m supposed to be “good cop”.

Marc: (tilts his tired head in confusion) Wait…(yawns)...I’m confused….(points to Nathaniel) If you’re “good cop”...(points to Nino) and you’re “Sherlock Holmes”....then who’s “bad cop”...or…what’s even going on here? What are you guys even doing?

Nathaniel: (smirks) Actually, Nino’s supposed to be the “bad cop”. The Sherlock Holmes cosplay is just Nino doing his own thing.

Marc: (gives Nino an incredulous look) You do realize your “Sherlock Holmes” cosplay doesn’t make any sense if you guys are doing “Good Cop, Bad Cop”, right? I mean, for one thing, Sherlock Holmes was far too intelligent and dignified to resort to such a cliche interrogation tactic that wasn’t even developed during his time! Not to mention that Sherlock Holmes didn’t even work for the British Police! Yes, they did work together on a few cases, specifically with Inspectors Lestrade and Gregson the most, but still-...

Nino: (slams his hand hard on the desk, startling Marc with a jump) That’s enough out of you! Nathaniel and I are the ones asking the questions here, Anciel!

Marc: (rolls his eyes) And I thought Jean was over dramatic…

Nino: (regains his composure and clears his throat again) Anyway, I hardly think that you’re in any position to judge my choices right now. After all, you’ve made some rather “questionable” decisions yourself recently, now have you?

Marc: Not more questionable than your choice of interrogation methods…or fashion…

Nino: Got nothing to say, huh? That’s fine, we’ll start things off then. (opens the manila folder) I don’t care to mince words with you, so I’m just going to come out and say it. (picks up three pictures from the folder) We all know that someone gave you coffee and we know that someone had to be someone who didn’t know that you couldn’t have coffee for reasons that we all know too well, i.e. one of these three prime suspects.

(Nino places all three photos in front of Marc. The first photo was of Zoé Lee, the second was a photo of Devin Nolan, and the third photo was of Noelle Odeja. Marc takes a brief look at the photos and averted his gaze away from the pictures.)

Marc: You don’t know what you’re talking about, Nino. You couldn’t even be more wrong. (smirks tiredly) That ridiculous hat you’re wearing might be too tight.

Nino: (smirks, unfazed by Marc’s remark) Seeing as though you still have enough energy to be cheeky, you’ll have no problem naming your supplier.

(Nathaniel rolls his eyes at Nino using the word “supplier” again.)

Marc: What makes you think that someone gave me the coffee? How do you know I didn’t just get the coffee myself?

Nino: You mean other than the fact that you’ve done this before?

Nathaniel: (places a hand gently on the writer’s shoulder) Marc, we know you didn’t get the coffee yourself. We know your moms won’t let you have coffee and for good reasons, too. (The writer shifted his eyes away from Nathaniel, but the artist continued.) We also know that the coffee you’ve been drinking is from your mama’s shop since you would never betray the family business by drinking coffee from a different coffee shop, which brings us to the ultimate reason why we know that someone bought the coffee for you. You would never even think of trying to steal coffee from your mama because too good of a person. 

(Marc remained silent, knowing he couldn’t argue with their reasons given that they were right. Marc was raised too well to steal anything and would feel like a traitor if he tried to buy coffee from anywhere other than his mama’s shop. Nino noticed how quiet the writer had become and smiled a satisfied smirk.)

Nino: (smugly) I’ll take your silence as proof that we’re right. Now then, as we speak, our three prime suspects are currently being interrogated by my lovely partner and her best friend…

Marc: (rolls his eyes in annoyance) Great…Alya and Marinette are doing this too, huh? Let me guess, is Alya dressed up as well? Is she Watson? Or maybe she’s that reporter from New York who always writes about Majesta?

Nathaniel: (raises an eyebrow) C’mon Marc, it’s Alya. 

Marc: Yeah, you’re right, Nath. (smirks at Nino) She doesn’t quite share the same flair for the overdramatic as other people do (snickers).

Nino: (slightly offended) Mock me all you want, Anciel. One way or another, we are going to find out the truth. We don’t care how long it takes. We’ll keep going all day and night if we have to.

Marc: (smiles smugly) We can’t stay on school grounds past five.

Nathaniel: And we’re not doing this any longer than forty minutes.

Nino: We’ll keep going till five if we have to.

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

Detective Nino is on the case (whether anyone asks or not)! Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this continuation of the "Why Marc Shouldn't Have Coffee" saga. I was going to do a full headcanon, but I decided to split it into parts since it was getting rather long. Probably a bit out of character for Marc to be a sarcastic, smart mouth in this headcanon, but in his defense, he's exhausted. Stay tuned for part two when we read about Alya interrogating the three suspects. Who do you think did the crime? Share your thoughts, opinions, and theories about the guilty party.

@andromeda612 @artzychic27 @username8746489 @nerd-chocolate @imsparky2002 @msweebyness

[my-head-is-an-animal]

The Sitter

Mycroft Holmes x Bethany Wheeler (OFC)

Rating: 18+ MINORS DNI

Summary: Set a little before John and Mary's wedding, Mary's friend Bethany Wheeler is a student studying Chemistry and Mycroft notices her. Not just notices, but takes an avid and intense interest in her. Mycroft Holmes is not a man to dive head first into any kind of relationship, but to imagine for a moment that he might deserve to be loved, well, that is a far off dream, rivalling that of a fantasy. Can Bethany change his mind? Or will the Final Problem be too much to bear?

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 

Mycroft Holmes Fic List

If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!    

[marvel-snape-writes]

I'm also thinking of continuing this fic too and turning it into some wild out-of-control love story where they really get to know each other and fall in love with each other and dine in fancy London restaurants, drink in the highest class of London bars, spend days desperate to see one another without the intrusion of the press or public eye, hiding in the back of overly expensive coffee shops, walks in the middle of nowhere, stupidly expensive gifts for her, nights unable to get enough of each other in his gorgeous London apartment and finally realising that they just cannot be without each other... did I just basically explain the pretty woman plot? idk man just imagine living your fancy London dream with Benedict on your arm

[ashleykeetonart]

Who are these cuties?!?! Why, it's Strudel and Sherlock! I drew this image as part of Art Fight 2023! I love @sadl040s character Sherlock, so I got permission to draw him with my bunny gal, Strudel! I wrote up a cute little story for this image below ~<3

Sorry for my inactivity. I've been through quite a lot in the few years since my last post, but I hope this is my permanent return to creating art!

After a long and tumultuous day, Sherlock makes his way to Strudel's house. She said she wanted to make a 'special surprise' for him, but that she needed his help. As he entered the kitchen he saw her busily gathering ingredients.

"Oh, you're just in time!" Strudel squeals with joy. She takes his hand and leads him towards the counter, quickly opening up a cookbook and pointing to a delicious mint-flavored chocolate cake.

The two spend their time together preparing a delicious cake, laughing and joking with one another. After hours of preparation, baking, and a couple of snack breaks, the two get to marvel at the fruits of their labor. Strudel makes the first slice into the cake, gently lifting a dollop of the handmade icing she crafted to his lips. Sherlock happily laps it up, surprised by how intense the flavor is.

"So, was this a nice surprise?" Strudel teases him.

"Absolutely!" Sherlock nods, a warm and genuine smile on his lips.

[savvy-devine666]

Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock BBC Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Original Female Character(s), Mycroft Holmes, Mary Morstan, Anthea, Mrs Holmes, Mr Holmes Additional Tags: Romance, Fluff, Friendship, wedding fic, Oneshot, How Do I Tag, what do i tag? Series: Part 14 of Roads Less Walked Summary:

While helping Mary make preparations for her wedding to John, Melody Holmes recounts her wedding to Mycroft

[afteriwake]

I know I don't normally post fic that aren't mine/related to my fic here, but my friend has been having a rough time this year and she's really proud of this fic, and I have a lot of BBC Sherlock fans on my account so I figured I'd share. It's Sherlock/OFC but @sobeautifullyobsessed just writes the everloving shit out of OFCs so give it a chance for some Christmas fluff? I'm going to treat myself to it tonight, too.

Happy Christmas, Mr. Holmes

Sherlock Holmes x OC, established relationship, some fluff, some romance, humor, and sweet holiday feels🎄❤️🎄 four chapters, complete

Christmas comes to Baker Street in a form Sherlock Holmes had never envisioned. There's a sweetness in seeing the holiday through someone else's eyes, and there are lessons in holiday spirit and the nature of giving--as well as how Love makes the season even brighter--to be learned.

(One of my oldest fics, this is also one of my favorites ~ for it was motivated not only by my love for BBC Sherlock, but even more so by my love of Christmas. I put a lot of my heart into this one, and if you should give it a read, I hope you find it pleasing, and in keeping with the season! Excerpt under the cut.)

Somehow, without even meaning to, Sherlock's path had taken him here: Notting Hill, Saint Mary of the Angels Church. He certainly had not intended to end up here, not as he left the shoppe (its final customer of the day), his hot food wrapped up to be consumed along the way. Had he been woolgathering so much that he'd moved without thinking to the place he knew Tessa to be? Or, he asked himself truthfully, had he intended to get here all along, knowing that his heart really did long for the comfort of community which the brightly lit church represented, the warmth that seemed to flow out with the strains of music coming from within? The thought of Tessa inside, joined in prayer and song with others of her faith--was that the magnet that drew him here? A man who stood outside of everything this building represented, yet now wanted nothing more than to do as he was doing--opening the door to feel the tide of shared and simple Christmas gladness wash over him.

Sherlock allowed himself to enter the vestibule, but stopped there, feeling it was enough for now. He knew, not just from what he could hear (and remembering similar services he had attended as a boy), but from the time itself, that the service was almost over. It was quite enough to imagine her inside, singing joyfully, and most likely wishing he was there to share it with her. He felt a sense of peace that had eluded him all day long, a sense of belonging that had for so many years been out of reach. He thought of those who had made it possible for him to feel he finally fit in somewhere--of John and Mrs. Hudson, of Lestrade and Molly, and of his Tessa, who had worked a minor miracle of sorts; they had gotten him to this marvelous threshold, and she had managed to carry him across it at last. Sherlock felt such a swell of love for all of them, that he was grateful to be alone, fearing the light of it would shine so obviously upon his face that he might be taken, by strangers, for a fool...

tagging: @strangedreamings (who may have seen this a few times before😉) @ben-locked (putting the 'ship' aside, just for the Christmas feels?) @mousedetective @darsynia (because you 'get me' enough to appreciate this fic) @aphroditesdilemma @hithertoundreamtof23 (dunno if you like Sherlock, but I'm betting you like Christmas stories) @aeterna-auroral-avenger (for the Faith we share & which makes you a Christmas person 365 days a year)

[jyuu-daime]

i will never forgive tumblr for what they did to cbs elementary you're telling me that in 2012 we had by far one of the most interesting and accurate depictions of a MODERN sherlock holmes with cute little easter eggs and characters from the original stories with great characterisation, INCREDIBLY written female characters (PLURAL), and one of the best platonic relationships that i've ever seen in media, SEVEN WHOLE SEASONS 154 EPISODES and you still chose bendysnap crunchyback. you were all too obsessed with english people and bad yaoi to see

[therealsaintscully]

The year is 2025, and here I am, still very troubled about BBC Sherlock. Now, it's been a while since I wrote any Sherlock meta, but there's something that's been bugging me, and I’d love to get people’s input and thoughts.

I'm a screenwriter—not a professional one, but an autodidact. I haven’t had anything produced, but I have written several original screenplays. One of the most basic things you learn as a writer in general, and especially in screenwriting, is the concept of the character arc. It’s the art of starting a character off as one thing, taking them through a process of deconstruction or challenge, and letting them emerge as something different.

An exercise I enjoy is watching films or TV shows and analysing a character’s arc. I try to spot hints of how a character will change by the end of an episode, a season, or the entire series. That’s part of why I particularly love Michael Schur’s shows—Parks and Recreation, The Office, Brooklyn Nine-Nine. In the Michael Schur universe, character arcs are blatantly laid out for you in the pilot episode. There’s absolutely no need to philosophize or guess: the characters often state it themselves, or it’s clearly expressed through others.

Take, for example, Michael Scott.

In the Office pilot, he’s genuinely a terrible boss and a trashcan of a person. But we’re immediately shown his arc via one simple prop: a coffee mug. “World’s Best Boss.” That’s his journey—to become that boss, if not in the world, then at least in Dunder Mifflin.

Or take Jake Peralta. In B99’s pilot, Terry introduces the squad to Captain Holt with:

“Jacob Peralta is my best detective — he likes putting away bad guys, and he loves solving puzzles. The only puzzle he hasn’t solved… is how to grow up.”

From that alone, you know where Jake is headed. By the end of the show, he’ll still be the squad’s best detective, but he’ll also be a grown-up: a dad, a partner, someone who takes his job seriously and earns the respect of his captain.

In the Parks and Rec original pilot script, Leslie outright declares that she’ll be America’s first female president. In the aired pilot, the message is softened a bit when Leslie says:

“You know, government isn’t just a boy’s club anymore. Women are everywhere. It’s a great time to be a woman in politics. Hillary Clinton, Sarah Palin, me.”

There it is: Leslie’s arc will involve her rising through the boys’ club of American politics and becoming a truly great public servant (and maybe—even if it’s never clearly stated—the first female president).

So now that I’ve set the scene a bit—understanding how a character arc is seeded in a pilot—let’s talk about Sherlock.

What are we told about John and Sherlock in the pilot that sets up their character arcs?

Let’s start with Sherlock, because that one is spoon-fed to the audience—by none other than Lestrade. In response to John’s question, “Why do you put up with him?”, Lestrade says:

“Because Sherlock Holmes is a great man. And I think, one day, if we’re very, very lucky, he might even be a good one.”

That’s it. That’s Sherlock’s arc. The writers are telling us outright: here’s a brilliant but emotionally disconnected man. And the journey ahead of him isn’t about intellect, but about goodness. About connection, humanity, compassion. Becoming not just great, but good. And, if I might add a bit of Johnlock, not just to anyone—but through John, with John, and ultimately because of John.

Now, John’s arc is a little less obvious in my opinion, though just as important—and it’s given to us by Mycroft, who says:

“You’re not haunted by the war, Dr. Watson—you miss it.”

To me, this says: here is a traumatized soldier who never fully came back from war. He’s unmoored, disconnected, half-alive. "Nothing ever happens to me." And the arc we should expect? A man who, over time, things happen to him and he finds peace. Who finds meaning in his civilian life—back in London, in friendship, in purpose, in (perhaps) love. Who, by the end of the series, no longer misses the war.

That’s the setup. That’s what we were promised. Or at the very least, that's what I feel I was promised.

Only… whatever I feel was promised never actually happened.

In fact, Sherlock ends up delivering the complete opposite. In Seasons 3 and 4, the show leans into Sherlock as a mythic, near-supernatural figure—the “adult who never was a child.” This directly contradicts the idea of humanising him. The sudden introduction of Eurus shifts the focus from internal growth to external spectacle. His evolution becomes a reaction to trauma, not a conscious transformation toward goodness.

By the end of The Lying Detective, Sherlock is still fundamentally isolated and emotionally unavailable. Despite supposedly learning to “connect,” he doesn’t share emotionally in any meaningful way—not with John, not with Eurus, not with Molly. The “I love you” scene is a puzzle to be solved, not a moment of genuine vulnerability. John and Sherlock’s confrontation at the end of TLD achieves absolutely nothing in terms of their openness or intimacy.

Sherlock's arc—of becoming a good man—is never achieved. Now, we can argue about that, because Sherlock is a softie at times. He is kind. And don’t get me wrong—when Michael Scott leaves Dunder Mifflin, he’s by no means a perfect boss. But he’s loved by Pam, he’s missed by Jim, and the Dunder Mifflin team has learned to respect him in their own way.

I know some of you are itching to shout that Sherlock's arc won't be complete without S5 and in theory, I agree! But! Lest we forget, Lestrade’s “prophecy” (supposedly) comes full circle in The Final Problem:

"No, he’s better than that. He’s a good one."

This, supposedly, is the great moment of The Payoff. Here stands Sherlock, A Good Man™.

Which… always makes me scratch my head.

Is he, Lestrade? Really? What is it, exactly, in those last few days that convinces you of that? What moment between The Six Thatchers and The Final Problem gives you that impression?

Nothing. Really—nothing. This, for me, is absolutely zero character arc payoff.

Now, what about John—who was supposed to come back from the war, or at most, get his adrenaline kicks chasing criminals with Sherlock through the streets of London?

Mary’s death completely hijacks John's growth as a character. Rather than showing John finding stability in his marriage and family (or with Sherlock, in whatever shape that takes), the show strips it all away. And worse, it distances him from Sherlock once more—throwing him into another spiral of guilt and rage, effectively rebooting his trauma rather than resolving it.

The finale gives John no closure. We don’t know where John is emotionally by the end of The Final Problem. Is he at peace? Are we supposed to believe that a happy montage fixes everything? Does he still crave danger? Does he still feel violent impulses toward Sherlock?

I can’t even begin to think when or how Mycroft’s seed of John’s arc—“you miss the war”—comes full circle in The Final Problem. Unlike Lestrade’s line about Sherlock, there’s nothing that brings that theme to any kind of resolution. It’s as though Moftiss forgot to give John a conclusion altogether.

I’ve sometimes wondered if Sherlock’s words to John in TLD—“We might all just be human”—were meant to gesture at John’s arc. But… why would it?

John never struggled to understand that he was human. That wasn’t his arc. That wasn’t his flaw. He knew he was human and he always craved for that humanity from Sherlock. So what, then, was that line supposed to resolve?

I can play devil's advocate here. Character arcs can be negative. A character doesn't always have to have a happy ending, and had Moftiss boldly done that, I would have appreciated it. But they hadn't- they give us a weird ass montage with John and Sherlock happily giggling at Rosie. It's just feels like there's absolutely no conclusion for John, whether negative or positive.

Adding insult to injury, Mary’s 'speech' during the final montage is actually dismissive of their "growth":

“There are two men sitting arguing in a scruffy flat. Like they’ve always been there, and always will.”

Which completely negates the idea that they’ve changed. At that point, they’re not like they’ve always been. John's quite possibly worse than when we met him.

“The best and wisest men I have ever known.”

Again—what’s with the John erasure? Let’s say, for the sake of argument, Sherlock is better now—what makes him wise? And John’s arc was never about becoming wise, so what does that even mean?

“My Baker Street boys.”

Are they? Are they still the Baker Street boys (I hate that nickname)? We’re never told if John and Rosie move back in. In fact, in a Q&A Moftiss declare John does not return to Baker Street.

And that’s just it, isn’t it?

The Final Problem finale doesn’t fail because it was mysterious or ambiguous or hilariously bad or tragic. It fails because it abandons the emotional contract it made with its viewers in the very first episode. It forgets the arcs it promised, the healing it hinted at, the people these characters were meant to become.

We didn't need a happy ending. But we did need a real one.

[ashbrat488]

Henry Cavill Masterlist

You will find all Henry Cavill (and his characters) related fics

Flower In The Desert (Captain Syverson)

Complete

Foul Play (Henry Cavill Rugby AU)

Complete

Candy (August Walker)

Ongoing

[tremendously-crazy]

"You can't hate on an entire Sherlock Holmes adaptation just because of how they interpret Irene Norton (nee Adler)-" SHUT UP.

I will hate on an adaptation if it does the following:

makes Irene a love interest for Sherlock Holmes (whether realized or not).

First of all, Holmes is NOT attracted to women, and never experiences a smidgen of attraction towards them in the original stories. ACD could have very easily written him a love interest, but CHOSE NOT TO because it went against the idea of his character. He was never attracted towards women.

Second of all, Irene Adler isn't even Irene Adler. Her name is Irene NORTON. Do you want to know why? Because she's LITERALLY MARRIED. TO A LAWYER NAMED GODFREY NORTON. She already has a husband who she loves very much! She does not love Holmes!

Thirdly, a man can feel admiration for a woman without being attracted to her. Watson literally says in the first part of A Scandal in Bohemia that he didn't feel any emotion akin to love for Irene Adler!!

2. makes Irene into some sort of femme fatalle/sexually appealing

This implies that women can only be smarter than men if they are attractive/hot. That, in order for a woman to be successful, she has to provide something for a man.

Edit: this doesn't mean that she ISNT attractive. She is beautiful and enthralling, which is what makes the king fall for her in the first place. What I mean is when Irene becomes a SEXUALIZED character.

Doing this means she can't just be a smart woman, but that she has to be sexually attractive and mysterious, too! DOING THIS REDUCES HER INTO AN OBJECT OF DESIRE!!!

3. makes her weak/makes her get outsmarted by Holmes

Im not sure if any adaptations have actually done this. But if so. Absolutely not. She challenges Holmes's misogynistic ideals and to reform his views. Because Holmes views women as softer, weaker, and less intelligent (when they are NOT!!) And Irene helps to teach him this. Her lesson is effective!! Because Holmes stops making fun of women. And he changes his ways. Why would you make her weaker? She's SUPPOSED to beat Holmes.

If it does this or anything else I will NOT view the adaptation. You can tell a lot about the adaptors, their respect and accuracy while depicting the original stories, and how they view women, through their interpretation of Irene Norton. She is the most famous female character in the series, after all. Do her RIGHT! READ A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA BEFORE YOU ADAPT! And if you still make these amateur mistakes, you shouldn't be adapting Sherlock Holmes at all.

[allthenobodypplfics]

Arousal Poisoning (Chapter 1)

Fandom: MCU Loki

Pairing: Soft Dark!Loki x Female Reader, or Soft Dark!Loki x Original Female Character, depending on reader interpretation.

Other Characters: Mobius, B-15

Rating: Explicit

Summary: This takes place in season 1, episode 2 of the Loki series; before Pompeii. Mobius takes Loki and a team of hunters to a Nexus event on some inhospitable planet. Mobius and Loki are supposed to investigate the event before the branched timeline collapse, but a trap poisons Loki and a (female) Hunter, causing them to fall into their baser instincts… Or, in other words, a sex pollen, drug-induced, rough sex smut fest.

Warnings: Soft Dark!Loki, Smut, Sex Pollen, Drugged Sex, Rough Sex, Consensual Sex, Slight Fluff

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Read on AO3

“Alright, team,” B-15 announced as a time door closed behind the last hunter stepping through. “This is one of the most inhospitable planets in this side of the galaxy, and the only thing here is this prison.” She pointed her thumb behind her where a formidable building lies. “This is where they chuck the most hardened criminals and toss away the key. Now, everyone inside is dead – they’re not supposed to be dead; that’s the Nexus event – so be prepared to see some horrible shit. The next guard shift change is in a week, so we have plenty of time before the branch collapses. We’re supposed to take readings and investigate the area; find out what the Variant took and why. Keep your eyes peeled and be careful of your surroundings. Let’s move.”

“How thrilling!” Loki quipped as he walked beside Mobius.

“Yeah, okay, calm down,” Mobius scolded, “don’t look so excited, you’re weirding everybody out.”

Loki huffed and jammed his hands into his pockets.

They entered the building and the first thing to grace their presence was a bloodbath.

One of the hunters whistled. “Yeah… everyone’s dead alright.”

A female Hunter made a soft sound of disgust at the back of her throat.

“Not used to the horrors of battle?” Loki mocked. “Thought you TVA agents have seen it all.”

“Don’t talk to me,” she deadpanned.

Loki’s shit-eating grin turned into a pout.

“Come on, Loki, make yourself useful.” Mobius pulled Loki further into the prison. “What do you see?”

“Death.”

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. What else? What was your Variant looking for?”

“How should I know?”

“Loki!”

“Fine, fine, give me a minute.”

The female Hunter followed along. “This doesn’t make sense,” she said. “The Loki Variant had been killing our people this entire time. They usually spared the people on the timeline. Why did they massacre everyone here?”

“Well, these are the worst of the worst, and I guarantee you the prison guards aren’t any better. Maybe… altruism?” Mobius replied.

The Hunter snorted, “A Loki? Yeah, right.”

Loki gave the Hunter a side-eye.

“Anyway, we’re not here to figure out why they killed everyone,” Mobius explained, “we’re here to find out what they took, why they took it, and what they plan to do with it.” Turning, he said, “Did you sniff anything out yet, Loki?”

“‘Sniff anything out?’” Loki spat. “What do you take me for? A dog? First I was a little pussy cat, and now I am a little lap dog?”

“Now, don’t get so sensitive–”

“I am not being sensitive, you are being rude–”

The Hunter left them arguing amongst themselves to take readings elsewhere. Her readings began to ping the closer she got to one of the hallways. There was… something… sitting on a table with a piece of newspaper covering it. She gingerly pulled the newspaper away and let it fall to the floor.

“The fuck?” she uttered. It looked like a huge flower bud the size of a basketball. The dark green sepals wrapping around the petals had golden veins running through them, veins that seemed to glow with a pulsing heartbeat. The very tippy top of the bud had some deep red petals peeking through. There was a sickly sweet fragrance emanating from the bud. Leaning closer, the Hunter could see a trickle of golden viscous liquid seeping from the top where the petals were. The bud twitched and the Hunter jumped back.

“Hey… guys?” the Hunter called out. “You should come check this out…”

Loki looked in her direction and his eyes almost popped right out of his skull. He pointed at the bud and screamed, “Stay away from that!”

Loki ran to the Hunter and grabbed her arm to pull her away from the flower, but it was too late. The flower popped and splattered its contents all over Loki and the Hunter. The Hunter grimaced as this golden, sticky, shimmery goop slithered down her face and body.

“Jesus Fucking Christ, what is this? Is this…” She touched her fingertips to her lips. “Honey? Nectar? It’s sweet–”

“Don’t eat that!” Loki furiously shouted as he slapped the Hunter’s hand away from her mouth.

The Hunter was shocked. “Wha–”

“Take your clothes off!” Loki demanded.

The Hunter belligerently narrowed her eyes at him. “What?”

“I know what this is!” Loki yelled as he grabbed the Hunter’s wrist and pulled her with him down a random hallway. “Where are the showers? Every prison has a shower wing! We need to wash this off immediately!”

“What the hell is going on?” Mobius called out as he followed them.

“Let go of me,” the Hunter snarled as she tried to pull her wrist out of his grasp, but he wouldn’t budge. His hold was so tight that he was grinding her bones together.

Mobius, sounding exasperated, sighed, “Where the hell are you going?”

Mobius reached out towards Loki and Loki recoiled, screaming, “Don’t touch us!  We’re contaminated!”

“What?” Mobius snatched his hand back.

“With what?” the Hunter screeched.

“There!” Loki pointed at a sign for the washroom. “The showers! Quickly!” He dragged the Hunter towards his intended destination.

“With what?!” the Hunter repeated as she smacked Loki’s arm with her free hand. The goop caused his clothes to stick to her palm and it released with a wet squish. “Ugh! Loki, contaminated with what?”

“It’s- argh!”  Loki was annoyed with the Hunter’s lack of cooperation. “It’s a very concentrated form of aphrodisiac. It’s usually used in very small amounts – and I mean very small; miniscule, and tremendously diluted – during feasts where – I’m not sorry to say – an orgy is the main event. But the amount that has bespattered us is deadly. So we must dispose of our clothes and wash the nectar off of our bodies. This is very potent; you don’t even have to ingest it – although you already did. Just letting it touch your skin is enough to feel its effects.”

“Holy shit!” Mobius’ voice cracked behind them.

“Holy. Shit.” The Hunter gasped as well.

“Indeed,” Loki scowled. “Now, come on.”

Loki shoved the Hunter through the door of the communal shower. She stumbled but he righted her and then stuffed her under a shower head. He turned the water on as hot as he could and left her there. She yelped and turned the water back to a more comfortable level.

“Hurry,” Loki said as he turned his own shower on and started tearing off his clothes. “Take everything off and throw it there, furthest away from you.” Loki pointed to the corner of the room. “Thoroughly wash yourself. Use soap – use a lot of soap – don’t just stand there, hurry!”

The Hunter tore her eyes away from the undressing god and quickly unclipped her helmet, throwing it in the direction Loki told her. She ripped the hair tie out of her ponytail, letting her dark, straight hair fall just past her shoulders; then she started peeling off her armor and utility clothing. There wasn't any shampoo, but there was a bar of soap sitting on a wall-mounted soap dish and she grabbed it. It squished out of her hand and jumped in the air. She did a small little dance as she tried to catch the soap, but it kept shooting out of her grasp. When she finally caught it, her relief at not dropping the soap was short-lived when she noticed a very large mirror stretching the width of the room on one of the walls.

“Is that a two-way mirror?” the Hunter cried, her lips curling incredulously. “Why is there a two-way mirror to view the showers? That is disgusting!”

Loki scoffed, “I assure you that this isn’t the only place that has such an amenity throughout the galaxies.”

“Agent Mobius, you and the team better not be watching us!” the Hunter yelled.

Mobius’ voice rang through a loudspeaker. “Sorry, kid, I promise we’re not looking. It’s just me and B-15, okay? Hurry up and wash that crap off.”

“Why the hell did the flower explode?” the Hunter hysterically squealed as she frantically rubbed the bar of soap into her hair and face.

“It was overripe,” Loki answered. “It’s normally harvested long before it gets to that size.” Loki tilted his head up to catch some water to rinse his mouth, but he, too, already swallowed some of the nectar earlier so it really didn’t make much of a difference now.

“Ugh, it doesn’t wanna come off!” the Hunter squeaked in a panic.

“Just keep washing! Don’t stop!” Loki told her.

After a few minutes, the sounds of frenzied scrubbing slowed and stilled. The Hunter suddenly felt dizzy and she fell forward, placing her forearm against the shower wall. She wheezed and leaned her forehead against the cool tiles and let the water run down her hair and back. She closed her eyes and swallowed. This growing… yearning… was steadily building in her groin to the point of pain.

“Oh, crap…” she grumbled.

The sound of the Hunter’s voice caused a violent tingle to run down Loki’s spine. He shuddered and clenched his jaw as he tried to even out his breathing. He glanced at the Hunter to see her back towards him. She was practically shrinking into herself; she was biting one of her fists and her shoulders were trembling. He huffed as he looked down at himself and watched his cock harden and grow.

He shook his head and chuckled, “It’s too late.”

Loki’s unhinged laughter caused Mobius to glance up and see Loki slowly turning to look at the Hunter, his eyes burning with desire, his breathing came out heavy through his parted lips; his chest was heaving as if he had been running a marathon.

“Hey…” Mobius’ voice piped through the loudspeaker. “Nooo…” he scolded as if to a dog about to do something they shouldn’t – like humping someone’s leg. Except this wasn’t a dog and he would do a lot more than hump the Hunter’s leg.

Loki eyed her from the top of her head to her feet on the floor. She was a young recruit. Well, young was subjective, as time moved differently at the TVA. She could have been working there for decades, maybe even centuries, and still look to be in her twenties; barely pushing thirty. She had an athletic build, showing that she had been a fighter for many years. Her shoulders were broader, slimming down to a smaller waist, giving her a bit of an upside-down triangle figure. Her arms were somewhat thickened with firm muscles, as were her thighs and calves. His eyes lingered at her delightfully round and lifted ass.

“Loki…” Mobius dragged out the “i” in Loki’s name in warning.

Loki turned completely and started to take slow strides to stand behind the Hunter. The two people watching behind the mirror caught a glimpse of the god’s cock; it was fully erect… and very well endowed.

“Oh, shit!” B-15 spluttered before coughing and clearing her throat, embarrassed at her little shocked outburst.

“Loki, no!” Mobius continued in the same scolding manner. “Now, you stay away from her! Don’t you touch her!”

And Loki touched her, placing his hands on her shoulders.

“What did I just say?” Mobius snapped, the loudspeaker creaking with feedback. “Loki, get away from her!”

Loki ran his palms down to her upper arms and squeezed. He didn’t use his full strength, not even a fraction of it, but it was hard enough to leave bruises in the shape of his gorgeous hands on her skin. He pulled her back towards himself until she could feel his length pressed against her tailbone.

“Loki, stop that! Bad, Loki!” Loki could almost imagine Mobius wagging his finger at him if he wasn’t so engrossed in the naked woman in front of him.

Loki wrapped an arm around the Hunter’s torso, cupping one of her breasts; it barely filled his large hand. He placed his other hand against her abdomen, but it was slowly slinking lower. The Hunter’s breath hitched as her jaw went slack and her lips fell open. She leaned her head back against Loki’s shoulder and he leaned forward to plant a kiss on the side of her neck.

Mobius smacked the two-way mirror and yelled, “Loki! Let her go!”

Loki gave Mobius the middle finger salute.

“Well, fuck you too!” Mobius smacked the mirror again.

Loki let out an irritated sigh as he gestured towards the two-way mirror and it completely frosted over in white, keeping prying eyes from getting a free show.

Mobius screamed, “God dammit, you stop that, Loki! Stop that right now!” With a flick of his wrist, Loki crushed the loudspeaker in a glittery swirl of green. It let out a metallic shriek before it became blissfully silent.

“Oh, that mischievous scamp!” Mobius glowered as he stomped his way out of the nasty-shower-watching office. “That mischievous horny scamp!”

“Mobius, what do you think you’re doing?” B-15 grabbed Mobius’ arm and pulled him back into the office.

“I’m going in there and separating those two!”

“Are you crazy? They’re contaminated! Do you wanna go in there and start an orgy? ‘Cause I don’t! You don’t know how… sticky… that goop is! It might not be washing out; it might still be stuck on them. You wanna start touching them and pulling them apart?”

“B-15, they’re drugged.” Mobius sounded frustrated as he waved his arms around. “They don’t know what they’re doing; they can’t control it. They can’t consent. It could really mess them up!”

“If they survive,” one of the other hunters snorted.

B-15 glared at the tactless hunter and he snapped his mouth shut, having the grace to look abashed.

“Get out,” B-15 ordered as she pointed to the exit. “When the hell did you get in here anyway? Pervert. I will write you up!”

She turned back to Mobius as the hunter scurried out of there.

“They’ll probably be fine.” She sounded unconvinced, but she wasn’t willing to step foot in the showers and she would not allow anyone else to go in either. They had no idea what the nectar did; if those affected would just… make love until they died. B-15 cringed at her own description of the matter. It was hardly “making love,” it was more animalistic than that, but she didn’t want to think “mating” either because that just sounded worse. She’d be damned if she allowed anyone else to fall under the same toxin and… made love to death. She cringed again. But, considering one was a god and the other was human, it was more than likely the human wouldn’t survive.

“They’ll be fine once they get it out of their system,” B-15 added while nodding, still sounding unconvinced.

The squeal of feedback from the smashed loudspeaker jolted the Hunter. Her eyes widened and she blinked hard, shaking her head. Her wet hair slapped and stuck against her face. She took a few gasping breaths and, in a moment of clarity, pushed away from Loki; stumbling her way towards the exit.

Loki’s lips curled in indignation as he gestured towards the door and a blast of green magic jammed the lock into place, keeping the Hunter trapped with him while keeping everyone else from interrupting. He grabbed the Hunter by her wrist and yanked her back. She slipped, but he caught her and shoved her against the wall. She tried to step away again, but he wouldn’t allow it and pressed his slicken body against hers. Hot water from the shower fell over them.

“Nowhere to run to now, little agent,” Loki chuckled as he brushed her wet hair out of her face to get a good look at her. She was cute, he could say that much. She had a slightly round face with big eyes and full lips.

“I’m not an agent,” the Hunter slurred, as if drunk. “Mobius is the agent. I’m a hunter – a soldier.”

“What’s your name, soldier?” Loki placed two fingers under the Hunter’s chin and lifted her head to meet his gaze.

“B-38.”

“That’s not your name,” Loki sneered.

“That’s all I know.”

“Alright then…” Loki leaned in and brushed the tip of his nose against hers. “Little Bumble Bee.”

“Don’t call me that,” B-38 said as she shoved at his chest. He didn’t budge. “Don’t give me any pet names. That’s weird. We’re not that close.”

“Well, we’re about to get a lot closer.” Loki firmly pressed his lips against hers. She grunted as he pried her jaw open by squeezing her cheeks and he unceremoniously drove his tongue down her throat.

B-38’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and her knees gave out. She would have sunk to the floor if Loki wasn’t holding her up.

“Aw, hell. Screw it,” B-38 thought as she got her feet under her, reached up, and raked her nails into Loki’s back; kissing him just as aggressively.

The kiss was messy. Their teeth clicked and their noses didn’t align quite right and were a bit smashed against each other’s faces. Loki ground his rock-hard cock against the Hunter, and she kept shifting and squirming until she was able to get the positioning right and felt his length rub against her clit. She whined against his mouth and he swallowed her cries.

Loki pulled away and tugged her hair back, forcing her to crane her neck; then he pressed his lips to her throat – rough kisses and bites that hurt just as much as felt good. He slowly trailed down until he reached her breasts, pausing to admire them – they’re small with caramel-colored nipples. He sucked one nipple into his mouth and she moaned. B-38 tangled her fingers into his wet hair and raised one of her legs to wrap around his hip. He grabbed her thigh harshly to keep her there. He drew a line with his tongue across her chest to lavish attention to the other nipple, twirling his tongue around it before licking it. With his other hand, he reached between them and cupped her cunt. She instinctively ground against his palm and drenched him with her arousal. He released her nipple from his mouth with a wet kiss; then he straightened and grabbed her chin to make her look at him. Her lips were parted and her breathing came out in heavy gusts. Her pupils were blown open; he could barely tell she had brown eyes when almost all he saw was black. Her entire face was blushing a deep crimson. He could tell the flower’s toxin had taken hold of her completely; he wondered if he looked the same.

Loki positioned the tip of his cock to her opening and watched her face as he callously thrust into her. She yelped at the very sudden invasion; then leaned forward and bit his shoulder in retaliation. He grunted but didn’t push her away. The one leg she still had on the floor was shaking uncontrollably as it was on its tippy toes to accommodate his height. He hooked his other arm under that leg and lifted her completely off the ground. From that position, his cock sunk even deeper into her; she groaned against his shoulder.

Loki started his thrusts long and slow, feeling her tight walls mercilessly squeeze against him. She freed her teeth from his shoulder and tilted her head back; the water from the shower rained down her face. He was the largest she ever had and she could feel him stretching her just almost shy of pain. When he shifted and began to pick up speed, hitting her at just the right spot, her eyes fluttered close and she moaned loudly, “Oh, God, please, please, please…”

Loki laughed breathlessly, “Are you begging?”

B-38 inhaled sharply and then she sputtered, “No.”

“Don’t stop,” Loki demanded; his smile full of glee. “I like you begging. Beg me like a wanton whore.”

“Stop that.” Her face twisted in annoyance.

“Alright, darling, forgive me,” Loki relented, his voice lilting. “I was too crude. My gentle Bumble Bee deserves tenderness.” He slowed his momentum and leisurely pumped in and out of her, teasing her and driving her insane.

B-38 let out a sound of frustration; then she snarled, “Will you just shut up and fuck me? Stop messing around!”

“Not so gentle then,” Loki chuckled. His face then grew dark as he ruthlessly slammed into her.

B-38 shrieked and then choked on her gasps to keep herself from screaming her lungs out. He was practically jackhammering her at this point; their flesh obscenely slapping against each other. She clung to his shoulders, digging her nails into him. She was half sobbing, half moaning. It hurt so good. Tears ran down her face, but neither she nor Loki would notice as the water from the running shower masked it.

Loki muttered into her ear as he fucked her silly; muttering pure vulgarity. He cursed her beauty and he cursed her sweet weeping voice. He cursed her perfect tits and he cursed her impossibly tight cunt. He described to her in very detailed imageries exactly how tight she was; how her cunt just kept greedily swallowing him up and not wanting to let go. He told her he wanted to fuck her wide open and make her bleed on his cock, but they were just words. He didn’t mean it and he didn’t do it. He told her such deliciously horrible things; so atrocious that it made her cry harder and harder as he fucked her harder and harder with every terrible thing he said.

B-38’s orgasm took her by surprise and she wailed, throwing her head back and accidentally smacking her skull against the tiles. Her quivering tunnel clamped down on Loki and he gasped, feeling his own orgasm nearing. He came with a soft cry and buried his head into her neck. She was a little surprised because it sounded quite vulnerable. Lokis were a lot of things, and vulnerable was never one of them. She found it quite endearing…not that she would ever say that out loud. In a moment of impulsiveness, she tugged at Loki’s hair until he looked at her, then she placed a soft kiss against his lips.

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

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[marvel-snape-writes]

IN CELEBRATION OF GETTING 6TH ROW LETTERS LIVE TICKETS FOR NEXT YEAR IM BRINGING BACK MY FAVOURITE BEN DRABBLE FROM LAST YEAR 🫶🤤🤤🤤

The thought of Ben all worked up in the wings/backstage of an awards show but being denied the one thing he wants is so stupidly sexy I just had to jot down this random bit of drabble… enjoy 😶

“Give me…” Benedict spoke out of breath from how badly he wanted it, “One good reason why I shouldn’t have you right here.”

“I’ll do better than that,” She responded, sliding her hands up his chest and onto his shoulders while remaining pressed up against the wall, “I’ll give you two.”

“Go ahead.” He swallowed hard, trying to ignore her fingertips now dancing along his belt.

“The first is that we’re in the wings of a live television broadcast, anyone could approach us at any moment,” She spoke tauntingly close to his lips, “The second being that you’re due to accept or present an award at any moment, too.”

“Fuck that,” He shook his head, opening his heavy eyes briefly before leaning in, in an attempt of kissing her lips and groaning when she turned her head, resulting in his lips just skimming her cheek, “Want you now.” He whimpered into her ear.

“Ben, you can’t even talk in full sentences…” She exhaled a soft giggle, hooking her index fingers into his belt loops and purposely pulling him closer.

“Your fault…” He hissed through his teeth as their bodies touched.

“Getting out there will make it stop.” She shrugged, lightly tugging on his belt loops a coupe of times.

“Don’t want it to stop,” He leaned in again to try and kiss her lips but only kissing the air as she moved back again, “Don’t want you to stop.”

She grinned from his several attempts at both trying to kiss her or form a full sentence — enjoying having the upper hand and enjoying his reaction even more. She let out a shaky breath from the sound of his teeth clattering together from his failed attempts of nipping her bottom lip between them. He dipped his head forward several times as his trembling hands moved up and down her sides, desperately trying to grasp onto her clothing and getting evidently more and more worked up each time she denied him a kiss.

“Ben,” she smirked, turning her head again, “Ben,” she repeated, unhooking one of her hands from his belt loop and pressing her index finger against his pursed lips, “Ben.” She spoke in a more firm tone as he brushed his lips against her finger.

“Hm?” He parted his lips, pushing the tip of her finger into his mouth before whining in frustration as she pulled it back.

“Behave yourself.” She spoke lowly, gazing up at him as she pressed her index finger against his lips with a little more pressure this time.

—

I don’t know what to continue with or whether to continue at all… so if you have any comment or input, feel free to let me know 😂♥️

[fazedlight]

I’m frustrated by how F/F fandoms seem to hyperconsolidate female characters.

And I will say upfront, I 100% support people deviating from canon (including in ways that don’t personally resonate with me!). Deviating from canon in your art/fic is a perfectly valid way to have fun. And it’s also a perfectly valid way to pour yourself into a character when you don’t see much representation. I particularly enjoy butch re-interpretations of characters, because butches are so fucking rare in media. 

So I just want to be super clear, I see absolutely nothing wrong with deviating from canon. In fact, one of my favorite reinterpretations is getting a lot of steam right now - Wicked musical, my beloved.

But when talking about canon itself, I often see people reference how different characters from different shows are “the same character”, in ways that I feel flatten them. Sometimes it feels like F/F ships have to try to fit the two boxes of “sunshine golden retriever butch service top” and “grumpy black cat femme bratty bottom”. People will describe a character as butch who isn’t, describe a character as sunny who isn’t, etc.

Again, this isn’t about fanworks, but analysis of the original source material. If someone watched the Wizard of Oz, the message isn’t about how the Wicked Witch is a misunderstood freedom fighter - that’s a reinvention for Wicked.

This isn’t something I’ve noticed happening with male characters. I’ve never seen anyone say that Mulder and House were the same character, merely because they were snarky/closed off/clever about piecing clues together. Heck, even House and Sherlock Holmes feel allowed to be distinct, despite the very direct line between them.

Maybe I’m just not seeing where this is done to male characters. But from where I sit, it feels like male characters are allowed to be unique and iconic - allowed to embrace all the little quirks and decisions that make them them, giving men a wide array of characters to resonate with.

I just want to embrace that for women too.

[kitmarlowe]

hey hope it's okay to ask but i'd like to know ur takes about the simon says episode of inside no 9 being about male fandom in particular? cause ive always enjoyed that ep and how it read some fandoms for filth lol but in my experience fandom is pretty female dominated so i'd be really interested in hearing about the specifically male side of it

sure. this probably would be more coherent if i'd rewatched the ep to remember things properly, so we're relying on my brain.

this is just my experience of viewing the difference between male and female fans (if we can understand these are generalisations and there's often crossover), so it’s likely this does not apply to all fandoms, but HERE WE GO.

to start, despite what I’m saying, simon is absolutely an amalgamation of a lot of things in fandom, both male and female. I expect much of it has come from mark’s experience on sherlock (shipping in particular). his worst traits come from all sides, but I don’t think it would work as well as an episode if it was about a female fan. his actions absolutely stem from the male side of fandom.

female fans, on the whole, seem perfectly happy just discussing the material with other fans. they form little groups and friendships, sharing jokes, discussion, art, fanfic. the men absolutely do this too but there’s an interesting difference in the way it happens. I don’t see men refer to their writing as fanfic, because fanfic is a female-dominated area and it has a reputation outside of fan spaces for being frivolous, out of character, and full of sexual fantasies about the male characters. male fans seem to view themselves as above it and need to legitimise their work. they’ll make short films, publish the their fanfic as short stories, interpretations, bonus episodes - anything to separate it from ‘lesser’ works. in the episode, when spencer dismisses gavin’s work as fan fiction, simon is clearly hurt by it and says, “well, no, it’s more sophisticated than that.” even though it absolutely is fanfic. men don’t want to be lumped in with the women because they view themselves as serious creatives, not obsessive fans. (all fanfic is creative, never change.) the men are also obsessive, they just don’t want to be viewed that way.

simon clearly sees himself as above other fans. he thinks running a podcast legitimises him and puts him on a level with spencer rather than the fandom he’s doing this for. he’s a content creator. the podcast is for the fans, I don’t think he views it as just a fan podcast. this is a kind of superiority I’ve seen in the male side of fandom. running a podcast validates them and brings them closer to the original material and makes their views, in their eyes, more intellectual. they, to paraphrase simon himself, actually know their stuff in a way that other fans do not. and if they can get a creator on, well… they’re a bridge between the two. they become part of it. simon believes he’s deserving of a co-writing credit, he thinks he deserves to be in the episode because he has risen above the other fans. he is a creator, just like spencer.

while most male fans I’ve seen manage to remember that they are just fans, they’re also more likely to seek the approval of the creatives. not just a “glad you like it” but a mark of recognition, for them to almost say, “yes, you are like me.” while they’re not awful like simon, they still have that same need to be seen as more legitimate, sophisticated and intellectual than what the common fan is viewed to be. I don’t think the women care as much about that. male fans need people to know that they understand the material on a deeper level — they need the creatives to know that.

simon feels entitled to the ninth circle because of the time he’s invested in it, he believes his view counts as if he’s in the writers' room with spencer, even before he blackmails him into the real thing. so do other male fans I’ve seen. I don’t think they’d ever quite go to the extent that simon does, but they’re certainly further down that path than female fans are.

and that’s why it had to be a male fan in this episode. look at doctor who — all three modern showrunners are men from fan spaces (as is mark himself). you know there were women from the same era who were writing their own stories, within their own communities, but isn’t it interesting how they didn’t become ‘legitimised’ through work on the show? what is big finish if not fan fiction legitimised?

and to end: all sides of fandom can be toxic (and they've touched on several areas in this episode) but it is also more often just an absolute blast. gavin's speech is in there for a reason, to recognise the good side. so whilst it sounds like I’m being negative towards the male fans, they're also a big part of that.