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#also this new shuffle is SO transgender oh my god.
knightzp · 5 months
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THEY SLAY SO HARD
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adultswim2021 · 7 months
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The Venture Bros. #48: "The Better Man" | December 7, 2009 - 12:00AM | S04E07
I think I figured out a big reason why I love The Venture Bros, but unfortunately I can’t spend too much time expounding on this in a non-shallow way: it reminds me of Ducktales. Because sometimes they go on a big adventure to an exotic locale, and sometimes they have to spend an afternoon killing money-eating bugs in Uncle Scrooge’s money vault. 
In this one, Orpheus and the triad are shown up by the Outrider, the man who “stole” Orpheus’s wife. But he ends up in hot water and requires Orpheus’s help after being trapped in hell. Billy Quizboy does illegal surgery again! And: also: we get the return or H. Jon Benjamin as the master, who reveals himself to Triana and scares her away from Dean and encourages her to go live with her mom and become a dang Harry Potter. 
This one’s sorta important in that it helps drive home the fact that Triana and Dean do not belong together, and it writes her mostly out of the show. At least it writes her out of the compound (she comes back at least one other time I can think of). But mostly it’s just about the characters hanging out and stuff. Yeah, there’s a big scary monster from hell, but a lotta of the episode is just about Hank and Dean going to the mall and sexually harassing women. Dermott is there, too! He’s one of the rudest guys on the show, so cherish him. 
I am struggling to come up with compelling highlights to illustrate the fact that I enjoyed this episode, which I actually did a great deal. I think I’m just happy that it doesn't’ have a plot I feel compelled to write-up extensively. So I’ll just list gags now I liked: 
The Matthew Lesko reference. It is fucked up that that dude has a suit with question marks and not dollar signs. Could it be the Mandingo effect? Oh, in my reality we call it the Mandingo effect because–
A fairly neutral “transgender” joke! In 2009! They didn’t even gratuitously use the slur! Wait, I like a lack of slurs?? SINCE WHEN??? 
“I look like Rufio!” 
The whole scene where the Master pretends to be future Dean is bleak as fuck. Hilariously Jackson and Doc said they based his look on Bernard Goetz. I mean, look at this and tell me he doesn’t belong in the Ventureverse:
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A thing I didn't LIKE, per-se, but bears mentioning: maybe one of the worst production errors of the show has Dean wearing a suit to impress Triana, then suddenly not, then it's back again. I originally thought it was due to them shuffling the scenes in the edit but Jackson took responsibility and said he approved of the storyboards of a suitless Dean without thinking. God DAMN him!
EPHEMERA CORNER
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Christmas in December Specials (December 13, 2009)
Even MORE Christmas in December to Tell in the Dark. This night featured a few other Christmas episodes but not that many more. I'd rather not post the schedule because of SPOILERS!!! Also, I thought maybe they did something else that was special, but if I am to read Swimpedia correctly the previous Sunday's "Christmas in December" was the one that featured the shop-at-home segments and not this one. I refuse to delete this paragraph. Sorry.
MAIL BAG
I just heard the good news: Adult Swim 2021 is coming to FunnyOrDie to cover Tim and Eric projects as bonus emphemera content. W00T!
The cat is "right out" of the bag: I will be doing this in some form. In fact, I sorta regret not attempting to include more non-Adult Swim Tim & Eric stuff in the ephemera section (like the Shrek 3 promos, for instance), but that's okay. But I do sorta think those are significant in that they are an important stepping stone towards Bedtime Stories. But I'm not gonna cover Eric's music videos or his future court case (speculation)
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How To Survive A Factory Tour - Chapter 18
A Sanders Sides / Charlie and the Chocolate Factory FanFiction
PREVIOUS
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Okay. Okay! Oooookay, Roman, it’s going to be fine, everything is going to be fine! I mean, at least you won’t suffocate from a lack of oxygen now! And if you do end up dying, it’ll be in a possibly slightly faster way? Or at least slightly more painless?
Hopefully?
So, um, funny story. I was brought to this room, the Caramel Carving Room, I think Wonka called it, and some Oompa Loompas began to chisel me out. So good news! My eyes are now free to see my surroundings, and my nose is free so I can breathe. The bad news is my mouth is still covered though so I am unable to scream in abject terror, like I feel the need to.
That links to the next bit of bad news: all the Oompa Loompas who were in this room, either working or helping me escape my caramel prison, are now dead. I am surrounded by doll-sized corpses, and I won’t be surprised if I join them soon..
I have no idea where they came from, but a bunch of snakes just slithered out from the darkness and started to attack the Oompa Loompas! The venomous ones bit, the constrictors strangled, and left me the only living non-snake being in the room. They slithered back into the shadows, leaving me here, alone and terrified. Also close to puking, which is something I do not want to happen, given as the caramel in the way means it’ll just be reflected back into my mouth. Which is gross.
What do I do? I can’t cry out for help, I’m just stuck!
I feel close to crying, literally seconds away. I’m doomed to either dying in minutes, or being a living statue for all eternity…
“Roman!” 
I look up. Virgil! Virgil’s just run in the door! Oh, my knight in pitch black and purple armour!
And Patton! Patton’s alive, and just behind Virgil, limping on crutches with a bloody bandage around his ankle.
But thank goodness they’re here! They can break me out, and then we can flee to safety-
Oh no. No no no no…!
I try as hard as I can to cry out and warn them, but I can’t. I scream as loud as I possibly can, but my words are indistinguishable. They’re just muffled cries.
“It’s okay, Ro, we’re gonna break you out,” Virgil reassures as he reaches me. It’s not me who’s in danger! Look behind and around yourself for Christ's sake! Can’t you see the Oompa Loompa corpses?! “Okay, how do we do this…”
“There’s a chisel there!” Patton points out. Virgil picks it up and starts breaking at the caramel at my neck to free my whole head. And while that’s good for me, so I can speak again, it’s not for them! Death is fast approaching! The reaper is watching, ready to take them away!
I don’t care if this isn’t the time for metaphors! I’m panicking!
Oh goodness, they’re getting close, dangerously so… Oh shit, oh fuck.
Virgil, either hurry up freeing my mouth or actually look around!
“Okay, one more break and your head should be freed and… There!”
Oh, thank god, I can speak! “SNAKES!”
Virgil and Patton both freeze. They share a glance, before both turning around. They’re facing away from me, so I can’t see their faces, but I can only assume their plastered with terror.
They finally see the corpses of the dead Oompa Loompas. Patton wretches as the sight of them. They also finally see the snakes slithering closer and closer.
“Oh fucking shit…” Virgil mumbles. “We’re gonna die, we are going to die.”
They both shuffle closer to me, backing as far from the snakes as they can. But the deadly vipers and pythons and boa constrictors and cobras and such keep advancing, coming at us from every side. We’re completely surrounded and screwed.
Patton’s started sobbing. Between his cries, he calls out to the door of the room. “LOGAN! I-I DON’T KNOW IF YOU’RE AWAKE TO HEAR ME, BUT… I LOVE YOU SO SO MUCH, AND I ALWAYS WILL! NEVER FORGET THAT!”
Virgil bites his lip, before muttering. “You’re supposed to, like, confess things before you die, right?”
I nod. “Yeah. Well, um, I don’t actually know about real life, but, uh, that’s definitely what usually happens in movie-”
“For some weird reason, in my head, I called Roman handsome and dashing when he was fighting the dragon!”
I look away from the snakes to Virgil. “You what?!”
“Shut up, I panicking for you, adrenaline was pumping through my veins, I was thinking irrationally! Just like I am now for saying that because I probably have more important confessions!”
Before I can respond, I’m interrupted by a hiss. The snakes are a metre away from us. This is it. They’re getting ready to strike. We’re so fucked dead… Bye Dad, bye Pa, bye Valerie, bye Patton, bye Logan, bye Virg-
CRASH!  
A large vat of caramel suddenly tips over and the rim slams into the ground. Liquid caramel flows out and covers the floor, and covers the snakes. Every single one of them. In mere seconds it hardens, and the snakes become frozen statues.
There’s a moment of silence between the three of us, all coming to terms with the fact we skimmed extremely close to death, but are still here. Are still safe. Virgil is the first to speak. “Can everyone, like, forget my confession?”
There’s the sound of footsteps. “I’d ask you to thank me for saving your asses, but I have some questions first.”
Patton’s eyes sparkle and a grin appears on his face. “LoLo!” He sprints over to Logan (well ‘sprints’ on his crutches, so it isn’t overly fast), throwing one of his arms around him and - I can only assume they confessed their feelings to each other earlier - presses a kiss to his lips. Logan’s face flushes a darker, more bluish purple, and then Patton pulls away. “You saved us!”
I, like Logan, now also have several questions. “Logan, what the heck happened?! You’re fat! And you have breasts?”
Logan sighs, leaning against the now empty caramel vat. “Yes, the matter of my size was one of my questions, along with where my binder is, and what on earth happened to Roman, and why are snakes trying to kill us?”
Binder? “Ooooh, you’re transgender! That’s why you’re so small and have a baby face!”
Logan glares at me. “Not all people born biologically female are shorter and ‘younger looking’.” He pauses. “But in my case, yes… Anyway, back to my questions?”
“Well… Lo, since it took so long to get you juiced, you had started to ripen by the time it started,” Patton explains. “It meant not all the juice could be gotten out. And there’s no other way, so… you’re stuck with it.”
Logan frowns, looking down at his stomach. He presses into it, I guess trying to come to terms with the news that he’d just have to get used to it.
Patton continues. “As for your binder...” He looks to Virgil, who reaches into his hoodie pocket and holds up a ripped chest binder.
Logan looks like he’s just been told a beloved pet just died. Purple tears are welling in his eyes. “...What?”
“I’m so sorry, Lo… but it’s okay! We could try and fix it?”
“Even if we could, it wouldn’t fit me anymore… I’ve definitely gone up a few sizes now…”
“Well…  you can get another?”
“No, I can’t... “ He shakes his head, taking a deep breath. “I, um… When I was younger, my parents raised me and my brother to fit the stereotypes and expectations of our genders. My dad made sure my brother was a sports and fitness fanatic. My mum tried to live vicariously through me, and tried to make me obsessed with my appearance and femininity and all those things… Child beauty pageants aren’t a thing in Britain, so mum would take me on ‘holidays’ to America and force me to take part in them. Surprise surprise, I hated it. I wanted to focus on school and learning, I preferred blue and black to the pinks my mum would make me wear, and I eventually realised when I was six, I wasn’t even a girl but a boy. And that made my parents mad. I knew it would, so I didn’t tell them. I asked my parents to let me get my hair cut short, telling them I just wanted to try out a new look. They weren’t really happy about it, but let me. However, Joan accidentally called me my chosen name in front of my parents one day, and I was outed.
“My parents struck up a deal for me: I could be a boy if, like my brother, I pursued sport. I refused, wanting to focus on school. So, they refused to let me transition. They neglect and ignore me in every way except for when it comes to policing my gender identity. Ever since I got my first binder, they’ve monitored everything I order, so I haven’t been able to buy a second binder to wear when I’m washing mine, or buy a packer. They made sure I never went to the doctor for consultations about surgery or starting HRT. When I turned sixteen and no longer needed parental permission to change my name, I was ecstatic, since they couldn’t stop me.
“But anyway, in short, I can’t get another binder. My parents won’t let me.” He shrugs, wiping his eyes.
Patton doesn't waste time in pulling the berry boy into an embrace. Logan hesitates, before burying his face into Patton’s shoulder and hugging him in return.
“I have an idea,” I speak up. “Us three could, like, chip in some money to order you a couple new binders and send them to you? Then your parents won’t be able to stop you getting them because you weren’t the one to order them, and they won’t know they’re coming.”
Logan looks up, shaking his head. “No, you don’t need to do that…”
“I think it’s a great idea!” Patton smiles. “We should probably get you some new clothes too. I mean, they’re looking just a liiiittle small now…” He gestures to Logan’s exposed belly.
“Oh, no, I should be alright on the clothes stuff… One of the things I did when I was younger in protest of my parents was purposefully put on weight, since my mum was obsessed with keeping me ‘perfect’. When I changed my name and started to take more steps to transition, I started going to the gym and doing exercises which were supposed to give you a more masculine build and lessen curves, so I ended up working off all the weight. I still have all my old clothes tucked away somewhere in my closet, so I can just wear those until I pick up new things myself.”
“Oh, okay. But we’re still getting you those binders!”
“Well, you two will,” Virgil corrects, having gone back to chiselling me out the caramel. “I’m still broke. Sorry, guys, I won’t be able to pitch in.”
“That’s alright, Virge,” Patton reassures. “We understand.”
Logan, having calmed down substantially already, looks over at me puzzled. “So, can someone tell me what happened to Roman?”
“I valiantly fought a dangerous, caramel-breathing dragon!”
“More like made the most idiotic decision on your life,” Virgil mutters as he frees my legs, so the only part of me left encased are my feet.
I smirk down at him. “Idiotic? I thought you said earlier it was dashing and that I was handsome?”
His face burns and he glares at the ground. “Shut up…”
Logan turns to Patton. “Did I miss something?”
“Virgil decided to confess his feelings for Roman in his ‘final moments’.”
Virgil turns to them, glaring. “I don’t have feelings for him! It was just the adrenaline of the moment!”
“Oh, hush, Virge,” I grin. “Just accept it. No one can resist Roman Prince.”
Virgil glares at me, while Logan mutters. “I certainly can,” causing Patton to chuckle. “Anyway, my last, and probably the most important question: why on earth are snakes trying to kill us all?!”
Patton looks to Virgil. “Virge said he had a hunch as to why…”
Virgil doesn’t respond, but his expression darkens. He continues to chip away at the last of the caramel while the rest of us wait for him to answer. He doesn’t until I’m fully free. He stands and straightens up.
“I think Ethan sent them. I think Ethan set up all the ‘accidents’ to kill you.”
I blink at him, stretching my legs and trying to pick off small leftover chunks of caramel stuck to my clothes. “Ethan? Seriously? Wouldn’t it make more sense if it was, like, Mr Wonka’s fault? I mean, this is his factory. How would Ethan set up accidents for us in a factory he’s never been in before?”
“I don’t know… But it can’t be Wonka. I mean, why would he kill a bunch of his own workers?” He gestures to the Oompa Loompa corpses around us again. “Not to mention, Ethan’s just… weird! I mean, Ethan - a guy with half a snake face and patches of scales all over his body - we caught whispering into some bushes in a language with a lot of sibilance, almost like parseltongue in Harry Potter, and then it just so happens that you are almost murdered by, of all things, snakes? It has to be connected!”
Logan raises an eyebrow. “We have no evidence. Even if this is somehow true, we have no way to prove so.”
“We don’t necessarily need it. If we confront him, he might panic and admit to it. It’s our best shot. I mean, I’d rather we expose him now before whatever murder plot he has worked up for me happens.”
“But what if it wasn’t him?” Patton asks. “He might get mad or upset at us for accusing him.”
“In all honesty, Pat, I don’t particularly give a shit about his feelings.” Virgil starts walking towards the door. “Come on. We have a snake to expose.”
I share a glance with Patton and Logan, before we all follow him. Virgil is looking between two buttons in the lift. After a moment, he mumbles “fuck it” before pressing one of them.
The doors close, and there’s a pause, before we zoom off, Patton and Logan leaning against each other, neither of them used to the ride yet.
“Okay, so, do we have any idea what Ethan’s motive could be? Just why he’s doing this to us?” I ask. “There’s gotta be a reason. Like, if it were my brother who did this, I’d just let it slide as ‘oh, no motive, he tries to cause chaos and attempt murder almost everywhere he goes’-”
“He what?”
“But Ethan seems different. He seems like a man with a plan. He doesn’t seem like he’d do this without a reason.”
“True…” Logan nods. “Has he said anything to any of you that could drop hints? Because I only really had one conversation between just the two of us, and there was nothing suspicious there.”
“We just talked about musicals,” I shrug.
“I didn’t really have a conversation with him,” Patton says.
“Me neither. I went to the bathroom right after Roman got taken away, so I wasn’t really alone with him to talk to him,” Virgil adds.
“So we have no clue what the motive is…” Logan sighs. “Awesome…”
There’s a jolt as the lift stops, and apparently I’m the only prepared for it as Patton and Logan almost fall into each other again - even though they’ve both confessed, they still get awkward and flustered about it. However, I’m immediately distracted from them by Virgil, who was also knocked over by the force of the abrupt stop, falling backwards. My reflexes kick in and I grab his hand, catching him before his hits the floor, and then pull him back up.
Which in turn means that we’re stood facing each other, faces millimetres apart.
I grin. “Did you just fall for me, Virgil Sanders?”
His face is burning red and sours, refusing to look me in the eyes. “Is this really the time for joke flirting?”
“Who said it was a joke?”
And now his face is burning even more. Then the lift ‘bing!’s, and he shoves me away, straightens his hoodie, and steps out of the lift. The rest of us regain our composure, before following him.
Time to put my affections aside and get the snake to confess his sins.
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Roman is now available for asks
NEXT
Taglist: @clone-number-1, @pumpkinminette, @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing, @jessicakennedy957, @why-should-i-tell-youu2, @dont-lose-urhead
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ashenartistry · 6 years
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Being Honest
So this is part 1 of a series I started on archiveofourown.org. The series is called Inimitable, Original and features John Watson as a trans man. At first, these were just sort of to help me get over my own dysphoric episodes or to at least cope a little better, but the responses I had were so overwhelming! So uh, I thought I’d share here below the cut along with the link.
>>>>Read this on A03!<<<<
Sherlock slammed the door to 221b Baker Street and slouched against the painted wood, chest heaving as he panted. Blood stained his white button up shirt and his coat, smeared across his face and hands. Quite frankly he looked frightful, an experiment having gone rather wrong and leaving him looking like a serial killer.
"Oh, Sherlock!" Mrs Hudson hissed from her door, lips curved into a delicate frown as she folded her arms over her chest. "If I find my walls bloodstained again I won't be cleaning it this time. I'm not your housekeeper."
"Alright Mrs Hudson," the detective rolled his eyes and grinned, deciding to make his way up the stairs and practically bounce into the flat.
There was the murmur from the telly as it served to be background noise, John Watson sat in his chair reading the paper intently. On the doctors hand there was the remnant of bubbles, the type that arose when filling the sink with fairy washing up liquid. Glancing to the kitchen Sherlock could see it had been scrubbed clean, any and all experiments had been packed away for now. John had been busy on his first day off in a month. Too busy in fact. The kind of busy that meant John was avoiding something.
"Tea?" he offered, seeming to break his flatmate out of whatever drivel he was reading at the time.
He would be lying if the shock on John's face didn't amuse him greatly.
"Not bloody likely. Go and get washed up, I'll make the tea." John rolled his eyes and rose from his seat, joints complaining as he did so and making him groan quietly. He brushed past Sherlock and gave him a meaningful look towards the bathroom before putting the kettle on.
The taller man gave an indignant huff, almost like his elder brother Mycroft, before flouncing off to the bathroom for a quick shower. He was pretty sure neither John nor Mrs Hudson would appreciate blood everywhere. He was also sure he'd be made to clean it up.
When he returned to the living room a steaming mug was waiting for him alongside a plate of gingerbut biscuits. A grumble from his stomach told him he hadn't eaten in a while and there was a sneaking suspicion John knew. So, he practically flung himself into his chair and began to nibble.
"So, dare I ask what this experiment was this time?"
Sherlock gave a grin and shook his head, folding one leg over the other at the exasperated tone of John's voice. "Not really, it would probably bore you." He shifted his weight back so he was slouching in his chair. "A little bit too complicated for-"
"For the ordinary mind. I get it."
They sat in silence for a while, Sherlock munching on his biscuits and John choosing to ignore him in favour for the telly. It gave Sherlock an excuse to study John intently without fear of being questioned. The way the man's right leg was bouncing suggested energy, perhaps a little bit of agitation. judging by the hand clenched close to his thigh. His teeth were slightly clenched as though he were holding back from speaking, eyes remaining on the program playing but not really paying attention. Something was bothering the doctor then.
"Whatever it is just say it, John." He scolded at last, exaggerating the roll of his eyes and sighing heavily. "I can practically hear your mind working and its very distracting."
The sudden speech made John jump, staring at the detective in surprise as he tried to formulate a response. It took a couple attempts before he gave a bitter smile and gave a huff of laughter. "At least it doesn't lower the IQ of the whole street, eh?"
"No, Anderson suffers from a particularly cruel level of stupidity. You, fortunately, are more intelligent than him."
"Cheers." He sighed once more and shuffled uncomfortably, "look, I've not been completely honest with you... from the moment we met. Things moved so fast, y'know? You tend to let things slide when you don't know when your life's going to be threatened or thrown into chaos." There was a faint smile, "but I feel like a pretty crap mate if I keep lying. I don't want you deducing me or what I'm trying to say, lemme come clean. If what I say makes you uncomfortable I'll... I'll leave. See if I can get my old place back."
"John," Sherlock seemed to blanch at the suggestion, shaking his head with a grimace. "Whatever you're about to say I'm sure is more than acceptable. I'm not about to jump at the opportunity for finding another flatmate so soon."
"I'm trans."
The statement was unexpected and John had flinched as though expecting to be struck. Sherlock merely sat there in silence, processing this new information and raising a brow. He had missed this data, how had he missed it?
"Transgender?"
"Yep... I, uh, started hormone therapy at eighteen. Never looked back in all honesty, Samantha Watson had long been dead in my mind before then." John swallowed, not knowing where to look as he once again shifted in his seat. "I didn't know how to tell you, its kind of an odd topic-"
"John."
"- and I mean I don't know what you think on the subject or how you feel about the fact I lied or-"
"John?"
"- I was scared you'd hate me, Sherlock. Everyone does once they find out. My parents, Harry, my old mates from school. Samantha was the only person they wanted to know, they never gave John, me, the chance I deserved. I bloody deserved to be treated normally, didn't I?"
Suddenly this was more than fessing up a secret, Sherlock realised. This was about trust, about being vulnerable in a way that had damaged John time and time again. This was about being shunned, not given the support he needed and deserved. This was about letting Sherlock into the most private part of his world and Sherlock felt honoured at the thought of it.
John letting out a sob caused him to snap back to reality, the tears rolling down the doctors frozen face as he awaited Sherlock's reaction. He was weak and Sherlock hated seeing him so broken.
"John Watson, you are my best friend, correct?"
There was a weak nod.
"My flatmate. Captain. Doctor. Terrible cook and obsessor of wool jumpers?"
Another nod was given, the man silent as he listened.
"I appreciate you confessing to me the truth of your youth, but the circumstances in which you became John Watson doesn't matter. You have always been John Watson and you always will be, do you understand this?"
John was dumbfounded, eyes wide as he realised the detective wasn't rejecting him. He was... he was being kind. Something he hadn't expected in the slightest.
"And to suggest moving out over something like that. Honestly John, its as though you don't know me at all!" He gave a chuckle, watching John's lips curl into a slightly wider smile. Yes, that was it, he thought. He wanted to see him smile. "Might I ask you a question, though?"
"Uh... sure?"
"Is this why you have refused to confess yet?"
There was an embarrassed splutter as John's cheeks began to burn. "Confess?! Confess what? There's nothing to confess!"
Sherlock rolled his eyes and gave an indignant bark of laughter, "well I'm growing impatient of waiting, John! I will die before you get round to it, its positively dull." His eyes twinkled as the realisation dawned on the man.
"I, wait... you?" He gasped, "I swear to bloody god if you're messing around-"
"I assure you I'm not. Judging by your reaction my assumption is correct, you hadn't confessed your feelings because you were afraid. I suggest-"
Lips against Sherlock's suddenly stopped him from speaking and he grinned a little, a hand coming to stroke John's warm cheek to comfort the trembling man.
"Don't say another bloody word, Sherlock Holmes. Just say this isn't an experiment. Say that you genuinely don't mind."
"John Watson, I swear this is no experiment. You want this as do I and you know," he pulled the man onto his lap and laughed at the roll of John's eyes, "I, more often than not, get what I want."
They kissed for the next half hour contently, stroking at their faces, shoulders, anywhere that felt comfortable. Sherlock kept whispering John's name, murmuring little phrases of sentiment that he couldn't believe he was hearing from a man deemed incapable of such. It was assurance, John realised as he tipped his head back and allowed Sherlock to kiss the hollow of his throat. Assurance that he was here and he wasn't going anywhere. Assurance that he wanted to be with John, assurance that he was wanted.
For the first time, John felt like he belonged.
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artificialqueens · 7 years
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White Houses Chapter 2 (Jalaska)- Dottie
A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long, it didn’t want to be written. But here it is and I hope you enjoy it!!!! Also a huge thanks to Marble for betaing! You can follow me at my blog here!(And because I forgot the summary in the last chapter here it is)
Summary: Going off to college is hard, Alaska finds this out quickly. Luckily she has her childhood best friend and a few new ones to lean on. As long as she doesn’t fuck it up by falling for one of them.
It is nearing three in the morning,  Alaska has her first class of the semester in a few hours, and she’s nervous. It’s Musical Theater and she seriously thinks that she should have thought it through a little more before signing up for an eight A.M. class.
Alaska stares at her reflection in the mirror of the dingy dorm bathroom. Her blonde hair is up in a messy bun, and the bags under her eyes are considerably prominent, it also doesn’t help that she has been crying. She’s only been at school for a week and she already misses her mom, and Aaron’s already made fun of her for it, but she doesn’t expect anything less from him. He’s her best friend and her biggest supporter, and she knows she would be completely lost without him.
The door busts open, interrupting her pity party, and in walks a blurry eyed boy with frizzy red hair. She freezes, not knowing what to do, and certainly not expecting anyone to be awake at this hour. She had also completely forgotten that the dorms and bathrooms were all coed. The boy grumbles at her in acknowledgement and shuffles past her, heading into one of the stalls. She blinks and debates on whether or not she should leave. She should. She doesn’t want things to be awkward when he comes back out, but at the same time he’s pretty cute. Before she has the time to make that decision, the toilet flushes and the redhead shuffles back out. He catches her eyes and flashes her a tired smile, a really cute smile too, he looks so soft and warm. She forces herself to look away so he won’t catch her staring.
“Are you okay?” He asks.
             She looks back at him and gives him a tight lip smile while nodding her head. It seems to be enough for him because he grumbles an ‘okay, goodnight’ and leaves. She stares after him, and eventually makes the executive decision to go to bed as well.
She sneaks back into her room quietly, not wanting to wake up her roommate, Courtney. She kicks off her slippers and glides into bed. It doesn’t take her too long to fall asleep, but it feels like only two minutes later she’s being woken up by her alarm. When she looks at her phone, she sees that two minutes has actually been a couple of hours. She groans, wanting nothing more than to stay in her bed, but it’s the first day of classes and she’s more excited than she allows herself to believe. She crawls out of bed and drags herself into the shower.
She doesn’t take too long in the shower, but when she steps out, the mirror is fogged over and the air feels thick and damp. She struggles to put her clothes on, they cling to her because of the mix of humidity and dampness of her skin.
“It’s too early for this,” she thinks with a groan. She eventually gets her jeans and t shirt on so she can leave the tiny excuse of a shower stall.
When she gets back to her room Courtney is sitting at her desk, fully dressed, and applying lip gloss. She stops when she sees Alaska and smiles at her brightly.
“Good morning, Alaska!” she greets a little too cheerfully for seven A.M. Alaska flashes a smile back at her, hanging the towel that wasn’t in her hair on the back of their door.
“You have class at eight, right?” Courtney asks, leaning back and checking her face in the tiny light up mirror adorning her desk.
“Yeah, why?”  Alaska responds, taking the towel out of her damp hair.
“Willam and I were going to go grab breakfast or coffee before class, did you want to come with?” Courtney asks, her full attention now on Alaska while the taller girl brushes out her hair.
“Sure, I’m always up for coffee,” Alaska says, and Courtney lets out a small cheer.
“I’ll text Willam and let her know, Aaron can come too if he wants.” Courtney offers, but Alaska rolls her eyes at the suggestion.
“He’s useless before twelve, he didn’t schedule any classes before eleven so he’s probably still sleeping.” Alaska says with a fond smirk, Courtney smiles at the image.
“You two are really cute together, are you sure you aren’t more than friends?” Courtney asks, a teasing tone lacing her voice.
“Yes! Fine, okay! You caught us!” She paused with a heavy sigh, “We’re two star crossed lovers, destined to be together, but fate keeps driving us apart!” Alaska exclaims dramatically, throwing her face into her hands and letting out loud sobs. Courtney giggles at her antics.
“But in all seriousness- no, Aaron’s the closest thing I have to a brother. We dated for a second in middle school, but that was a mistake,” Alaska explains before turning on the blow dryer. Courtney waits until she’s done before she starts asking more questions.
“I thought you had two brothers? And and older sister?” Courtney inquires, resting her elbow on the back of her chair and placing her head in her hand.
“Yeah, but Ryan is so much younger than me, we never had a very close relationship, and Cory and I never really got along. But Brooke is amazing.” Alaska says with a shrug and a small smile.
Courtney nods in understanding, she opens her mouth to say something but her phone buzzes, distracting her. “Willam’s on her way up,” she says. Alaska glances in the mirror, and deems herself ready with only her eyebrows and mascara done. It’s too early for any more effort and the bags under her eyes aren’t too prominent.
A few minutes later there’s a knock on their door and Courtney swings it open to reveal Willam, a tiny blonde with a personality twice her size. Alaska had met her the day she had moved into the dorms, she was helping Courtney put her things away. And by helping, she was lying on Courtney’s bed, flipping through a fashion magazine and throwing in her commentary every couple minutes. She was nice enough and Alaska was just excited to actually move in. Willam took an instant liking to Alaska though, which Courtney said was rare, so she basked in it the week leading up to today.
Courtney greets Willam with a peck on the lips and a large smile. Alaska grins at the pair, a hint of jealousy nagging at her in the the back of her head. She wants that, a Willam to her Courtney, okay maybe not a Willam per say, but someone to be affectionate with that wasn’t Aaron. Someone to hold hands with, make out with, go out on cute dates with, and to hold her and cuddle with her. But it’s hard finding someone to do all that with, especially because she’s transgender. She can’t just go out and find some random guy on the street, men are scary and there have been too many hate crimes towards trans women, for that to be anywhere near safe. Alaska knows the statistics of sexual assaults towards trans women, and she knows how likely it is that it could happen to her if she just went out with anyone.
“You ready to go Lasky?” Courtney asks, bringing Alaska out of her thoughts. She nods, grabbing her keycard and her bag full of binders and notebooks and following them out into the hall. Willam and Courtney talk the entire walk down to the dining area, while Alaska trails closely behind. She isn’t paying close attention to her surroundings, which is probably why she runs straight into someone, knocking all of their things to the ground.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Alaska gushes out, turning around to try and help pick everything up. She quickly recognizes the person as the guy from the bathroom last night and blushes deeply.
“Alaska you clutz!” Willam yells with a laugh from where her and Courtney have stopped walking a little ways down the hall. The redhead smiles warmly at Alaska as he bends down to start picking up his stuff. Alaska immediately goes to help him.
“I am a total clutz, and I did not see you I’m so-” she starts rambling,  reaching for random papers before she’s cut off by the redhead.
“Hey, it’s okay! Don’t worry about it, accidents happen,” He says with a giggle, Alaska’s heart speeds up at the adorable sound, a grin finding its way to her face. “I’m Jerick,” he says as they move to their feet, having picked everything up.
“I’m Alaska,” she says.  She notices that he’s a few inches shorter than her, but he has the cutest smile Alaska has ever seen, and the prettiest brown eyes.
“Alaska quit flirting, and let’s go! You can suck his dick later!” Willam calls out, Alaska blushes again and Jerick’s smile fades.
“I have to go, but it was nice meeting you, and sorry again!” Alaska says, walking backwards towards Willam and Courtney.
“Nice meeting you, as well, Alaska!” Jerick replies, and Alaska smiles and turns around to face a smug looking Willam and an embarrassed looking Courtney. She pushes past Willam and power walks away as fast as she can. Luckily, her legs are longer than the other two’s, so they have to run to catch up with her. Serves them right. Cunts. She has never been so embarrassed in her life.
“Laska, slow down!” Courtney calls out after her. Alaska stops and crossed her arms, pouting.
“I can’t believe you fucking said that,” Alaska says to Willam, “did you see how uncomfortable he looked?” Willam just shrugs.
“He’s probably into it. You’re hot.” Alaska blinks at her, expressionless. “I’d fuck you.” Alaska glances at Courtney who just rolls her eyes fondly.
“I have higher standards.” Alaska responds, Courtney screams out a laugh.
“Oh bitch! Oh bitch!” Willam laughs, they’ve gained the attention from the majority of the students in their vicinity, which isn’t a lot with it being only seven thirty in the morning.
Alaska cracks a smile; they’re obnoxious and loud, but Alaska thinks that they’re going to get along fairly well. At least, she hopes so..
Xx
When she finally gets to the auditorium where her class is held, Alaska is underwhelmed by the amount of people there are. She knows it’s early but she was still expecting more than fifteen students. She finds an empty seat and waits for class to start. She pulls out a notebook, flipping it open to the first page and starts to sketch until class starts. She doesn’t look up when she feels someone sitting next to her, but she nearly jumps out of her skin when they start talking to her.
“What’re you drawing?” She snaps her head up, and of fucking course, it’s Jerick. She glances down at the page,
“Uh, just some dress designs,” she responds, Jerick leans over and inspects the page. Alaska is suddenly extremely self aware, she doesn’t know what to do with her hands, and she doesn’t know if she’s breathing too loudly, did she put on perfume? No, she forgot, fuck. Jerick is smiling down at the page, closely inspecting it.
“It’s really good, Alaska. Are you a Fashion Design Major?” Jerick asks, looking back up at Alaska.
“No, I’m a Theatre Major. What about you?” she asks, she wants to know everything about him, which she knows is crazy because they legit only met in the early hours of this morning. Why is she so attracted to him? He’s very flamboyant, his hair is a frizzy mess, he has acrylic nails, but yet, all of that is endearing.
“I’m Theatre as well,” Jerick says with an infectious smile. Alaska smiles back, unable to stop it from forming. She doesn’t know what to say back, but luckily the professor calls for attention, and starts going over the syllabus so Alaska doesn’t have to respond.
She tries to pay attention to the professor, but with Jerick sitting next to her she’s completely distracted, and it’s frustrating. Alaska doesn’t like to assume anyone’s sexual or gender identity, but she’s fairly certain that he’s gay, so it probably wouldn’t work out anyways, and he would probably never like her like that. Which is fine, she can admire from afar until she’s over it. Which she sincerely hopes happens soon, because she really doesn’t want to deal with this, and they just met, she shouldn’t be this attracted to him this soon. But of course she is, because why wouldn’t she be? He’s exactly her type. Warm brown eyes, a dazzling smile, a nice personality- at least that’s what she’s gathered from their limited interactions. Maybe she’s just crazy.
The class continues in a similar fashion for another half hour, when they finally get through the syllabus. Alaska packs up her stuff, quickly and efficiently. Jerick had already left, saying a quick goodbye to Alaska. She’s disappointed, but she doesn’t expect him to wait for her, because well, they hardly know each other and they aren’t even friends. She sighs, zipping her bag closed and slinging it over her shoulder. She pulls her phone out of her pocket, noticing that it’s only nine, and her next class isn’t for another hour. She sends a quick text of ‘you awake?’ to Aaron before making her way to the coffee stand a floor down. She’s shocked when she gets a quick reply of ‘no’ from him, expecting him to still be asleep. Alaska tells him to meet her for coffee and she already knows he will, even though he responds with another ‘no’.
She only has to wait ten minutes before the messy haired blonde shows up. He glares at her from behind his glasses, there’s still a little bit of eyeliner smudged under his eyes from sleep, and he’s wearing the most ridiculous neon pink, fuzzy slippers that are extremely out of character for him, but Alaska was the one who got them for him so he deals with it.
“Good morning sunshine!” Alaska greets, a smirk gracing her features.
“Fuck off.” He says, brushing past her and going straight up to the barista. He throws his meal card at the poor, dumbfounded girl and says “Coffee. Black. Now.” Alaska rolls her eyes fondly. She apologizes to the barista, whose name tag reads ‘Adore’, before ordering her own drink.
When they get their drinks, they sit at a small table in the corner of the small room, Aaron’s drink is already half finished and a there’s grimace fixed onto his face.  
“What’s with the face?” Alaska asks.
“I hate black coffee.” Aaron says, pouting at the drink as if it could magically change into a sweeter, possibly alcoholic, concoction. “I hate coffee.”
“Then why’d you order it?” Alaska asks, laughing at her dumb ass of a best friend.
“It’s Satan’s ass crack o’clock in the morning, Lasky. And I forgot the alcohol in my dorm.” Aaron continues to pout, and Alaska ignores him, moving the conversation along.
“When’s your first class?” Alaska asks, taking a sip from her coffee.
“Eleven thirty.” He’s still pouting, and Alaska’s still ignoring it.
“What class is it?” She asks.
“Fucking statistics,” he says, somehow pouting even more. “Then I have public speaking, and that’s going to be bullshit.” Aaron continues on in a rant, and Alaska half pays attention to him. She wonders if she should bring up Jerick, or if she should just ignore it. It’s just a silly little crush, it could be absolutely nothing, and it’s way too early to be naming their kids. But she really wants to talk about him, and make out with him. Jerick, not Aarron.
“Alaska,” Aaron says in disbelief, Alaska looks up, blinking slowly. Aaron’s face was one of disapproval and judgement. “I love when you ignore me. Okay, what’s wrong, or who is he?”
“Why do you just assu-” Alaska starts.
“Who is he?” Aaron cuts her off, he knows Alaska better than he knows himself. She only ever spaces out when he’s talking if she’s upset about something, or she can’t stop thinking about someone.
Alaska opens her mouth to protest, but Aaron raises an eyebrow, and Alaska sighs, “his name’s Jerick, and it’s probably nothing.”
“Okay,” He gestures for her to continue, “when did you meet him?”
“Technically, officially, this morning, but we ran into each other in the bathroom last night, or well, I was in there when he came in.” Alaska says, sitting up straighter, Aaron nods. “ And then I literally ran into him this morning and knocked over all of his stuff-”
“Clutz,” Aaron comments with a smirk, Alaska glares at him but continues to tell her story, telling him about Willam’s comments, and how he /still/ sat next to her in class.
“He’s just…really cute. And perfect.” She finishes.
“Alaska, you just met him.” Aaron says incredulously.
“I knooow, but he’s so cute an-”
“Alaska,” Aaron cuts her off, “you’ve known him for less than twelve hours. This is ridiculous, even for you.” Alaska pouts, but Aaron’s having none of it. “I know it’s hard, but ignore it, and befriend him. Get to know him. He’s probably not as perfect as you think.”
“He is.” Alaska tries to defend him and herself.
“What’s his major?” He asks, Alaska brightens up, because she knew this.
“Theatre,” She says with a triumphant smile.
“What’s his last name?” Alaska’s smile falters. Shit. “Favorite color? Favorite book? Does he play video games? Does he have the patience of a saint, to be able to deal with you? Does he even identify as a he?” Alaska opens and closes her mouth a couple of times trying to find something to say to that. Aaron sighs and grabs Alaska’s hand over the table.
“Lasky, you’re my best friend and I want you to be happy, but you have to stop attaching yourself to people you barely know, it’s only going to end up hurting you, and I’m not about to let anyone hurt my best fucking friend, my sister.”  He says, and it’s the most sincere Alaska’s heard him say in a while.
“You’re going to regret calling me your sister if we end up falling madly in love and getting married,” she says, laughing when Aaron’s face falls from sincerity, to annoyed.
“You’re the absolute fucking worst. I’m going to get my fucking vodka so I can deal with you like an adult,” he says, getting up and storming away, leaving Alaska a laughing mess at the table.
Aaron was right though, she realizes when she sobers up. She needs to put her big girl panties on and stop attaching herself to helpless civilians, especially really cute ones. She’s going to get to know Jerick, and they’re going to be friends. If friendship turns into something more, then Alaska won’t complain. For once.
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