#what timeline

[linksboobs]

This started as "I had pasta earlier. Link deserves pasta" then I was like "yes but this is hyrule warriors fanart he has to be losing his mind."

[deerdogs]

we got TUBBO of all people hearing about scary saturday lukey before they’ve finished this fuckass game im gonna be sick

[lanalightwoodbane]

bitches bastards non binary hoes HIIIII. It took me almost 7 months but hey at least i’ll be posting this at the end of the month (maybe or earlier.) based on this post.

a sneak peak??? It’s been a while.

Batman turns around. A domino masked Batman, an-out-of-armor Batman, a sweaty Batman, a hot Batman… What?! Barry means a less intimidating Batman even with the scowl.

The Batman in front of them stood tall and pushed his bangs up his forehead then cocked his head and placed a loose hand on his hip, he breathed a little heavily.

“B, be nice.“ Nightwing says. Batman slowly turns and stares at his eldest (according to Wally’s stories.) “Black Bat says, smile more. So smile more.” Nightwing says, grinning.

Batman does something Barry’d never thought he would see. Beside him, Hal almost squeaks. 

Batman turns back to them and smiles. Not the smirk he does on the battlefield when someone asks if he’s actually going to do something unbelievably irrational. It felt like the skin-tingling smile he aimed at villains mixed with something softer like when something funny happens with his kids. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, not that they’d know, it made him entrancing.

[wilbyssoot]

No fucking way is Tubbo at the Super Bowl right now

[sydneydoesstuff]

alliumduo boxing match confirmed? /j

[valyrfia]

i thought 2020 prepared me for everything but it did not prepare me for the misha collins/bill clinton sex scandal

[notgonnarememberthis]

A Compromising Engagement - Chapter 5

Inspiration strikes out of nowhere but here we are! Honestly I got this idea while on a trip a while back. It’s been sitting in my head for a minute but FINALLY the ideas started flowing. Once I get conversations in my head THEN I know it’s time to begin writing. Honestly, getting inspiration for this was rough recently because I have a new fic idea that absolutely will not leave my head. I was trying to force myself to think for this one instead so I could finish a work first but that’s literally the worst idea when you’re trying to write something. Once I stopped pressuring myself, BOOM, idea. I also had to watch an episode to get their voices straight in my head again but that’s another story. Hope y’all are staying safe!

Watson settles into her seat eyes piercing the suspect across from her. The woman is eerily familiar to her, a pompous air that resonates from her very being. An attitude calling that she can’t be caught.

The case is a rough one, triple homicide with no solid evidence. Even what they managed to obtain from witnesses is circumstantial at best. The woman knows that without a confession, she’d slide by in court. Enough money for a good lawyer and an alibi that she didn’t trust. She’d been at this for an hour and she’s growing weary. There’s absolutely no security footage of her where she claimed to be. It simply doesn’t make sense.

A scream cuts her question short. She leaps up into action, medical instincts taking over as people outside the door call for 911. She grabs the door handle only for it to remain still in her hand. She tries again and again only for the realization to dawn on her that she’s locked inside. “Sherlock?” She calls to her partner who should be just on the other side of the mirror. “Sherlock let me out so I can help!” Her heart sinks when there’s no response. “Marcus?” Again, nothing. “Abreu? Coventry?” Nobody’s on the other side. Great.

She pounds on the door hoping to catch somebody’s attention. “Someone! Let me out! I can help!” She shouts. A chuckle behind her sends a chill down her spine. Her eyes flash back to the woman in the handcuffs, Elana March sits where the woman once was. A wicked grin spreads across her face.

Action settles into her as she pulls out the keychain Kitty gifted her for her birthday. She presses the blunt end against the two way mirror turning her head as the spike inside shatters the glass. She hoists herself through the new opening, adrenaline rushing too fast to feel the glass likely piercing her palms. She reaches for the door only for it to stubbornly stay in place yet again. She looks through the window in the door hoping to catch anyone passing, even in a rush to assist but what catches her eyes sends her into full blown panic.

Two cups of coffee spill across the precinct floor. Marcus is leaning over an all to familiar form giving manic chest compressions. “Sherlock!” All sense leaves her as she slams her shoulder into the door, trying desperately to force it to swing open. “Sherlock!” She cries his name, tears spilling down her cheeks. A scream rips through her when Marcus sits back on his feet, grief consuming his expression.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She shoots out of bed with a strangled gasp desperately trying to catch her breath. It takes her mind a second to catch up to her surroundings. A shadow passes across her room and her body moves unconsciously fetching her singlestick from her bedside drawer. She’s not quick enough, however, as the looming figure catches her wrist midswing.

“Watson!” Sherlock shouts, snapping her out of her state. He sits on her bed in front of her, worry etched into his face. She disguards her singlestick flicking on her lamp.

Her chest is still heaving from adrenaline as she tries to piece together what happened. “Why are you in here?” His brows furrow, confused.

“You were screaming my name.” His knees bounce trying to rid of the remaining anxiety in his own way. “I thought you were in danger.”

Her eyes close in both embarrassment and realization. Her nightmares had been recurrent since that night she stood up to Morland. They all ended the same with someone she cared about dead by the hands of someone she and/or Sherlock helped put away. This one, however, was the worst of the bunch. “You’re hurt.” His right hand is held close to him but she can tell he’s bleeding.

“I was doing an experiment when I heard you scream. I wasn’t careful getting out of it but it’s fine. Merely a scratch.”

“Let me look at it.”

“Watson.” He tries to bat her off again but she only looks at him. A look that tells him that she needs this right now. He obediently follows her to the bathroom for supplies and better lighting.

Once in there she determines that he is correct. It’s a painful cut but stitches are not necessary, thankfully. An apology is on the edge of her tongue when he speaks up instead. 

“What was the dream about?” She tenses not wishing to explain. Not when she’s had so many in the course of two weeks. He’d understand, of course he’d understand. The answer is simple.

“Make sure you wash this so it doesn’t get infected. I’ll go clean up the mess from the experiment.”

He catches her wrist as she tries to walk away. His grip is more gentle than before, his eyes begging her to talk to him. “Joan.” Her name makes her breath catch and for a moment, she wants to tell him everything. How she’s been extra on edge since Morland’s threat to remove his ‘extra security’ if there ever even was such a thing. It did its job, however, as she always brings her singlestick on cases now. She wants to tell him about how she’s worried he’ll take their whole livelihood away in one fell swoop. She knows he supports what she said that night, yet parts of her wish she could just take it back. Taking it back, however, would mean not standing up for Sherlock and that’s absolutely not an option.

“I’m fine.” She insists instead. It’s easier than explaining what he already probably knows.

He doesn’t push, thankfully. He only nods slightly with a sad smile. “Very well. I’ll clean up my mess. You get some rest, we have lunch with your family tomorrow, remember?”

“My mother won’t let me forget.” She jokes halfheartedly. He relaxes slightly at the return of the banter and it’s enough for now. She sulks back to her room hoping to reach a point where she’s tired enough to fall in a dreamless sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sherlock keeps his eyes on her the next day. The rest of the night he’d kept quiet, listening for even the slightest cry. When none came he assumed she’d managed to fall into a peaceful sleep and resumed his experiment. However, when she came down the steps ready for lunch it’s more than clear to him that she hadn’t slept any more at all.

He makes no mention of it, only making her a cup of coffee before they set out which she gratefully accepted. She hides her exhaustion well with others but he’s more than familiar with it by now. With his habits of waking her up early he’s recognized her patterns at different levels of needing sleep. He tries to curb his concern when she drags her feet across the kitchen floor. He bites his tongue when she catches herself going to rub her eyes for the third time only stopping to not ruin her makeup concealing the dark circles under her eyes. He rocks when he has to repeat himself several times when she misses something he says about the experiment he’d conducted the night prior. She’s far too tired, is what he concludes. A type of tired where if they had a case he’d wait another hour before waking her lest he be on the wrong end of a snap in her exhaustion.

“You ready?” Her head lifts following the sound of his voice. He wishes he could give her more time for her coffee to kick in but they’re behind as is.

“Remind me why we scheduled this again? As if that brunch with my mother was bad enough now we have to answer to Oren, Grace, and Lin?”

“Come to recall I don’t believe Lin gave us a choice in the matter.”

“Right.” She chuckles dryly. “Let’s go.”

The ride to the restaurant is blissfully long. It gives Watson the time she needs to wake and him time to think. Not that he hadn’t done it all night but paired with the opportunity to observe Watson, it’s beneficial at least. She no longer seems shaken by the events of the night prior, also not shocking as Watson in the past has pushed back emotions for the lack of confrontation. 

Everyone is already seated when they arrive at the restaurant. Sherlock places a hand at the base of Watson’s back for the appearance but stays back when she goes in to hug her family. He waves politely pulling out Watson’s seat before taking his own.

Conversation flows naturally with the Watson family, all things given. She seems to forget her exhaustion as they discuss how they’ve all been recently, though she does order a coffee with her meal.

“I can’t believe I had to find out about your engagement through mom.” Oren laughs. Watson shifts in her seat a little only offering an apologetic smile.

“At least you found out through someone.” Lin challenges, “I found out via the engagement party invitation.”

“And she will never let me hear the end of it.” Watson shrugs. “Truthfully we were going to keep it a secret for the sake of professionalism and the danger in our jobs.”

Lin gasps, a realization hitting her. “Did you never tell Marcus?”

“No, we didn’t.” Sherlock provides biting the inside of his cheek.

“He’s going to flip when he hears about it. I mean, the whole precinct had a pool deciding when you two were going to get together but engaged?”

“They had a what?” Watson sits up a little straighter, “How do you know about this?”

“I’m the confirmation for when you two finally get together.” He and Watson both share a look of alarm.

“Did you tell anyone?” He asks, Watson’s hand grabs his leg under the table. He’s not sure if he’s grounding her or the other way around. The entire precinct knowing about their ‘engagement’ would complicate things in unimaginable ways. They’d already lied to Hannah at the gala. If that were to get out they’d be dealing with more than minor knowing looks from coworkers but actual anger and hurt from Bell and Gregson both. Dealing with wedding questions from family was bad enough. In the workplace? Sherlock can only grab her wrist in return in order to keep himself from spiraling.

“Of course not. I got Joan’s message loud and clear that I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone. Nobody has even asked recently so you’re off the hook.”

They both breathe a sigh of relief. He lets her go but Watson’s hand remains, though relaxing her grip. He’s caught by how natural the position feels. Simply holding each other was an action he’d never thought he’d find so comforting yet her hand just above his knee curbs his anxieties he’d been feeling having to pretend. They’re partners, afterall, how much pretending did they really need?

The rest of lunch is unremarkable at best. Discussion of wedding ideas fended off with excuses over how busy they’ve been with work. Lin threatened to plan for them and for a moment it didn’t sound like a horrible idea until he thought of how long that guest list would be.

He shakes his head when that thought truly settled in. How long had he been thinking like this engagement was real? Thoughts of actual weddings and Watson going dress shopping as if that weren’t something Mary and the whole Watson clan in general wouldn’t want to be involved with.

“I think I broke him.” Lin teases gently. He’s more than used to her at this point but he’s certainly overwhelmed. Watson squeezes his knee pulling his gaze to her.

“It’s ok.” She coaxes with a smile that could calm him instantly, “We’ll figure it out.” He offers her a small smile, if only she knew what he was trying to figure out.

When they say their goodbyes his hand reaches for Watson’s, his fingers interlacing with hers as they make their way to the car. Even as the climb in the back of a cab his hand covers hers in the drive finding the comfort he yearns for in the simple touch. He didn’t realize how badly he needed it until she climbed out when they arrived home and her touch was gone.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He almost forgets about Watson’s nightmare in the panic that gripped his mind for the rest of the night. It’s not until Watson lingers in his doorway, her face more vulnerable than she lets most view her as, that he remembers the encounter. She schools her emotions so well most days.

“Any new cases?” Her voice sounds pleading and tired.

“I thought you’d be reading your book right now.”

“I finished it last night.” She admits with a sigh.

“Unfortunately nothing. It appears all the interesting murders have taken a holiday.” He jests, “I’d say let's take a trip to New York City but I believe they’re not quite keen on having me back any time soon.”

“Well you did lick what they thought was a deadly poison and made an officer faint.”

“Anyone with a sense of smell knew that it was italian dressing Watson.” She looks away when he meets her gaze. “Are you alright?”

“Fine.”

“Clearly not.” She shifts her weight from left to right and back again.

“You died.” He rears back, almost shocked that she relented so easily. “I was stuck in interrogation with a suspect and I heard screaming. I was locked inside and I couldn’t get out. I saw you on the ground. Marcus just stopped trying to save you. Nobody could hear me and I could’ve helped, I know I could but.” He’s up easily and in two steps he’s wrapped his arms around her. Her hands freeze in the air but when he holds her tighter she relents trembling in his arms like he could make it all stop.

“It’s alright.” He whispers into her hair. “I’m ok.” He feels her nod into his shoulder. He’s more than familiar with these nightmares, however. No amount of words can shake that uneasiness they bring. “Was this the only one?”

Her silence is enough of an answer as is.

“Only me?”

She tightens her grip but he can feel the just barely there shake of her head. “We saw your family today. They’re happy, if a tad relentless in pushing us to plan our fake wedding.” He feels her shoulders shake: a laugh, that’s good. “Kitty and Archie are likely cuddled up together after watching a Disney movie that Kitty pretends not to like but we both know she’s a secret softie hm?” A nod. “As for me. Well, you can stay in my bed if you’d like that way I’m right here if you need me.”

She stiffens and for a moment he believes he’s gone too far. She lets out an agonizingly long breath contemplating his offer. She swallows heavily, nodding more distinctly this time. It’s slow, almost giving herself the opportunity to change her mind. He guides her to the bed laying down first, controlling his breathing tightly so as to not make the smallest move that could scare her off.

She looks so small as she crawls in beside him. This woman that he associates with so much strength looking so vulnerable in this moment. He wishes he could take her pain on as his own. He’d do it in a second if he could. He opens an arm making the silent offer to her. A small smile that he hopes tells her if she doesn’t need it she doesn’t have to take it.

He has to force himself not to stop breathing when her head settles on his bare chest where she can listen to his racing heart. Her hand comes to rest on the base of his ribs content to just feel like slight expansion and contraction of his breathing. His own hand settles on her back, content to spell out meaningless formulas and ludicrous patterns until she’s lulled into a deep restful sleep.

He listens to her slow even breaths as his eyes drift closed.

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

@tamarknott @averageinside

[homoceroscaeli]

Apollo: ... What are you two doing?

Clay: Yo

Nahyuta: Your friend Clay was showing me a popular form of western meditation.

Clay: Would you like to T-pose with us?

Apollo: Clay why