He’s licking his lips. Sherlock can hear it. John is fidgeting in his seat, uncertain, thinking his words over. Oh for God’s sake, there is no need for his eyes when it comes to John’s worrying.
“Spit it out, John.”
“Do you need a hand shaving?”
Oh. That was not - Sherlock blinks, his vision still dark, but he can see John’s face so clearly. He can imagine the tentative smile, the warmth and uncertainty in those blue eyes. For even a moment, Sherlock can picture John’s hands and fingers perfectly. To have them, against his skin…
“You look horrible, Sherlock. No offence.”
Sherlock raises his hand to his cheek, feeling the stubble there and he has to admit it; it feels dreadful. And who else but John does he trust with this? He nods and Sherlock can hear the smile on John’s exhale. It’s peculiar, how easy he managed to tune his hearing to John. Or perhaps it isn’t. Perhaps nothing has ever been more obvious.
John moves to the bathroom first and Sherlock follows the sound of the running water.
“There is a seat in front of the sink,” John says when Sherlock enters the bathroom.
“Do you - ”
“I’ll manage, John.” He does, eventually, after nearly crashing to the floor because he sat down too close to the edge. John doesn’t comment on it.
‘’Your shirt, Sherlock.’’
His shirt. His back. Stupid! Idiotic! He should have thought this through. John can’t see… it never was his intention for John to know. He can’t –
Sherlock hears the frown and he sighs. He can’t back down now not without causing even more questions. John will know he has more to hide, he’ll get angry, he’ll leave and –
‘’Hey, calm down. Breathe, Sherlock.’’
John sounds closer now – on his knees, in front of me, his hand on my knee, comforting, I’m… oh. Sherlock breathes, deeply, and John’s hand tightens slightly. ‘’That’s it. You okay?’’
‘’Fine,’’ Sherlock mutters on an exhale, but he knows John won’t believe him.
‘’If it’s about the shaving, I – ‘’
‘’No, John. I – ‘’ Sherlock swallows down the panic rising in his throat. He has no choice. ‘’There is something you should know before… My back is… when I was away, I was…’’
John doesn’t say anything, but Sherlock can feel his hand moving to the buttons of his shirt, hovering, waiting for permission. He doesn’t know why John is not asking him, he can’t read him like this and Sherlock fights down the urge to reach out and touch his face, just to be able to feel what he’s thinking. This is infuriating!
This is terrifying.
Still nothing. Although… Sherlock can hear it now, the ragged quality of John’s breath, deep, controlled. Sherlock finds himself trying to match it before nodding.
John’s fingers are trembling as he undoes the buttons of Sherlock’s shirt and Sherlock clenches his own hands on his lap. He tries to steel himself for John’s anger. He tries to prepare for the questions, the accusations, the guilt. John moves to stand behind Sherlock. He feels his shirt slide off his shoulders and he tenses.
This is it.
John will –
What is he –
Sherlock hears the sharp intake of breath before he feels John’s fingers tracing the worst of the scars. Another inhale. Another. Not a word. Nothing. He dares not to ask anything when he feels a towel being wrapped around his neck. Even though he can’t see, Sherlock looks down, just so John doesn’t have to look at him when he moves back in front of him. Not a word is spoken as John presses the blade against Sherlock’s cheek.
Never before has Sherlock felt more insecure. Without any visual input, and with John very carefully controlling his breathing, there is no way of knowing what John is thinking. Is he angry? Upset? Both?
He wants to scream, demand John to say something, anything, just to break the silence. But John keeps shaving him, silently.
It isn’t until the last of the stubble has been removed and John applies the aftershave he knows Sherlock favours, that Sherlock breaks. With John’s face so close, he reaches out, clasping John’s cheeks in his hands. He freezes.
Why is John’s face wet? What –
Oh. John’s voice sounds broken, hurt. It trembles. Wet. Tears.
John is crying!
‘’You hid this from me… all that time,’’ John doesn’t pull away from Sherlock’s hands and Sherlock let himself trace the lines of John’s face. He feels a sharp pain in his chest when another tear catches on his finger. John isn’t supposed to cry. Never again. He made that promise to himself.
‘’No, shut up, Sherlock,’’ John snaps and Sherlock listens. ‘’You hid this. You were hurt and you hid it from me. For God’s sake, Sherlock, some of these… when?’’
Oh no. This is wrong. John can’t know.
‘’Tell me when!’’
Sherlock swallows. ‘’Serbia. Before… before I came back.’’
The feeling of John’s arms wrapping around him surprises him. John pressed himself close, his head buried against Sherlock’s shoulder, his hands once against on Sherlock’s back. ‘’I tackled you… and you let me.’’
‘’You were angry, rightly so, and I – ‘’
‘’You stupid idiot. You absolute cock. Never again, you hear me. You can never allow me to hurt you again. Sherlock… you deserve better.’’
Sherlock doesn’t say anything. How could he? Because he knows, no matter how selfish he might have been in the past, ever since John limped into his life… there was no pain Sherlock would not endure for John Watson. There was nothing his body, his mind, his soul, his heart, would not endure for John Watson. How could he tell John that every single day without him killed him? How could he tell John that the mere sight of that golden band on his fingers tore his heart apart. There was no line John would be able to cross; Sherlock was already lost and broken for him. Sherlock already loved.
Request by @marvelhpaprendice: Hi! This may come out of nowere! But i love your Bucky fics! So i have a request to make! Could you do a one shot where Bucky and the reader hate each other (not really hate, like hate with sexual tension beetween them) and one day, as they watch a movie, they feel the tension that they make and just give in to each other? Thank’s!!!!!!
Summary: Your blind date goes wrong and you find yourself watching a movie with Bucky despite how much you two despise each other.
Warnings: Smutty smut, really small angst.
A/N: I did this request right away because the messaged me personally and I honestly forgot about the requests in my asks. I’m going to get to them, I promise. I’ve just been extremely busy with school. I’ll try to work on a few tonight and tomorrow if I have time. Thank you all for being so supportive of my Bucky x Reader fan fictions! I love getting feedback, whether it’s positive or negative, both help me improve my writing and story telling.
Saw a man refusing to let his pregnant wife off the porch because he “saw a rat the size of a dog and I will NOT let it bite you, please go back inside darling”. Made me wonder how protective the Maheswaran’s were of their baby.
After seeing the post where Chris wears contacts on the ice while Yuuri just goes half blind, it really struck a chord in me like “Hey, I’ve done something stupid like that before.” and it really got me thinking.
Why doesn’t Yuuri wear contacts on the ice?
There could be a variety of reasons from health, his eyes not being suitable for contacts, etc. but assuming that Yuuri is perfectly capable of wearing contacts, why does he choose not to? There isn’t any proof of this at all but this is just my thoughts on a plausible reason why.
Stupid and dangerous as it is, perhaps he chose not to - because of his anxiety.
Why? Because he can’t see the audience clearly at all.
Yuuri doesn’t perform well under a huge amount of pressure. We see him breakdown when faced with the pressure to hold first place from the SP and to keep his and Viktor’s reputation from tarnishing if he screws up. He performs slightly better away from his home crowd. He thinks that nobody in the audience supports him and that the audience is there to watch him fail.
I’m a person with anxiety but I’ve also been a part of the performing arts for a good decade. When you’re on stage, the audience eyes are on you even when you’re in a big group. You feel the pressure of a hundred pairs of eyes staring at you and scrutinising your every move. You go into every performance with the reputation of yourself, your group, your conductor, and even your school on the line. This is what Yuuri must have felt at some point.
It’s really damn scary.
I’ve emceed for huge crowds of more than a thousand, I’ve sung with a choir in full auditoriums under the stress of competition. And I did at least half of these events half blind like Yuuri.
In fact, I chose to emcee or sing half blind due to anxiety. The days I did choose to wear my glasses were the days where my anxiety wasn’t bad or I didn’t feel under a lot of pressure. But other than that, I intentionally chose not to wear my glasses because not seeing the audience clearly really took a lot of the pressure off.
When you’re short-sighted and myopic, you won’t be able to see the audience and even the judges clearly when they’re quite a distance from you. You see these people as a blob of colour that look like humans but you can’t see them clearly at all. You don’t really think about them much but you’re aware that they are human and they are watching you. You’re able to focus a *little* better without the scrutinising eyes….. But not so advantageous for looking at your conductor or doing something as dangerous as dancing or ice skating (thankfully for me, I was placed in the front row of the choir so I could see the conductor easily).
Singing half blind is HARD. And I’m just standing still. I’ve no idea how Yuuri does figure skating half blind or how high his degree even is. Jesus. Bless this precious sinnamon roll before he hurts himself.
But wait! Yuuri was squinting and attempting to see!
It is actually normal for people with myopia to squint when they’re not wearing glasses. Squinting is a natural way to help your eyes focus a little better - but only to a certain extent and not really effective if you have a high degree. Sometimes you won’t even realise that you’re squinting at all. Yuuri’s sultry bedroom eyes in Eros were either planned as part of his femme fatale persona or…… Yuuri just trying to see on the ice.
I suppose this puts my rambling/theory to its end so…. #PrayForYuuri #BlessYuuri #GiveYuuriContacts2k17
Hello lovelies, guess what time it is? That’s right, the moment when I gather together the beautiful and the smutty and the heartbreaking fics I’ve read over the past few weeks for your delectation and delight. So without further ado:
Summary: Before the Temple falls, before Chirrut goes blind, before they are even friends, Baze follows Chirrut into the cold and the dark. (My thoughts: gross and lovely and so beautifully written and bound to make the most frozen heart feel something.)
Summary: Baze always worries. All is as the Force wills it, Chirrut chides him, but Baze always grunts and retorts that he does not always entirely appreciate what it is that the Force wills. (My thoughts: this is heartbreaking and lovely, a beautiful little insight on Baze’s thought process and also a wrenching look at Bodhi, who Deserves Better™)
Summary: As he starts to fall asleep, Chirrut whispers against his hair. Not long now, not long now. Baze doesn’t ask him what that means. Perhaps he knows, deep down. Or perhaps he’s too afraid to shoulder whatever it is that Chirrut can see in the future. So he lets Chirrut run his fingers through his hair, lets him work through the tangles. Chirrut has always loved his hair long, and used to braid it when they had all the time in the world. He starts to do it now, and Baze lets sleep tug at him until he goes with it. (or: their last night together and other moments) (My thoughts: Fuck you, Zoe. “Not long now” will go down as the phrase that broke me. This is beautiful and sad and I am not okay.)
Summary: a jaunt, a fight, and a shared bunk: three times baze and chirrut got up close and personal. pre-empire era. (My thoughts: a wonderful, achingly sweet look at how they might have gotten together.)
Sherlock thinks John only likes him because he’s a genius and can deduce anything. If he goes temporarily blind then he will think John will leave him because he will have no use for him. John will show Sherlock that he is much more than his mind. He’ll show him that he has compassion and is a wonderful man with a beautiful heart. It’s going to be so painful but in the end Sherlock and John will finally be free to live happily ever after.
Marie-Laure lives with her father in Paris within walking distance of the Museum of Natural History where he works as the master of the locks. When she is six, she goes blind, and her father builds her a model of their neighborhood, every house, every manhole, so she can memorize it with her fingers and navigate the real streets with her feet and cane. When the Germans occupy Paris in June of 1940, father and daughter flee to Saint-Malo on the Brittany coast, where Marie-Laure’s agoraphobic great uncle lives in a tall, narrow house by the sea wall.
In another world in Germany, an orphan boy, Werner, grows up with his younger sister, Jutta, both enchanted by a crude radio Werner finds. He becomes a master at building and fixing radios, a talent that wins him a place at an elite and brutal military academy and, ultimately, makes him a highly specialized tracker of the Resistance. Werner travels through the heart of Hitler Youth to the far-flung outskirts of Russia, and finally into Saint-Malo, where his path converges with Marie-Laure’s.
Soooooo, @dystopianeden and I created a Mystic Messenger AU where Rika and V adopt Saeyoung and Saeran. Of course, considering Rika’s canon age is only a year or two older than the twins, we aged the couple up.
Why create this AU? Because we both agreed V would be a fantastic dad and deserves to live dangit, the cherry twins need a freaking family, and Rika could be pretty cool if she continued therapy.
And yeah. I guess what I had in mind here was this being the first or second day after the adoption, and they’re all happy and stuff for now at least. Saeran isn’t sure how he feels about the whole thing, and wasn’t up for smiling, but Saeyoung decided to give bunny ears to Rika in an attempt to get a chuckle out of him. It sort of worked, but Rika wasn’t too happy about it once she saw the picture.
(Also, V still goes blind in this AU, but that’s further down the “timeline”. They eventually get a guide dog, and Saeyoung proceeds to name it Cactus, lol.)
Anyway, this is Cactus Dad AU! An AU that TOTALLY doesn’t have any despair or sadness in it whatsoever…….! :D