#confoundingprinciples

          that’s not what he wants to see. but he’s unable to push the glass to crack without being seen through (because john would see; call him on throwing a tantrum because he isn’t getting what he wants), and oh, how that has him.

          ❛     look at me.     ❜     now, they both know it’s an act. john thinks it’s an act now, he’s sure- jim’s only half-sure anymore, but he doesn’t let that stop him.     ❛     do you hate me?     ❜      jim presses where he’s allowed to press and still look innocent. is he pressing buttons because he’s curious what will work or because... ?

         “I can’t say I was actually worried.”

He had long accepted the fact that he came from a dysfunctional family, and chose to talk about them less, think about them less. Although, yes, it did cross his mind for a second about this possible reunion when his blog gained traction in public, but he assumed. Never assume, John tried to tell himself, as it always got him into trouble. Was this brother of his trouble?

“you should give that advice to sherlock.” probably better than she doesn’t, but it would be an interesting thing to see. they both know what his ‘friend’ has missed, right under his incredibly clever nose. though perhaps sherlock would be better off if he saw less - details could be built up to mislead, john’s own life carefully built and curated to form a picture that would be hard pressed to scream ‘devil in disguise’. “i’m well acquainted with human devils. most of them work for me.”

Hm... Sherlock hasn’t seen much of John all day.

Plus his current experiment is turning out to be much more boring than it is to process the damn thing...  John is much more interesting... He rose from the table and begun discarding his latest project.

Checking his wrist and glancing at the time, Sherlock frowns because it’s 2 AM. 

Seems the vacuum will have to do. He pulls out the item with little grace and plugs the vacuum into the wall.  He doesn’t know what a vacuum is used for because he deleted that long ago. All he knows is it’s LOUD.

@confoundingprinciples​​  puts a 🔪 to sebastian’s throat.

          the streetlights and rain, when he turns quick, make john seem like some bright, soft blur.     ‘     i think i- misheard you.     ’

     knuckles  graze  and  fingers  squeeze  at  the  meat  of  john’s thigh  closest  him,  clingy  groping  that’s  far  too  purposeful  to  be  a  product  of  simple  absent-mindedness;  he  reaches  for  his  drink  with  his  free  hand,   ❛   but,  to  think...  i  do  my  job  soooo  well,  i  was  able  to  reap  the...  little  added  bonus  of  it  terrorizing  my  husband’s  prospective  fling~.  sarah,  was  it?  ugh,  ew.   ❜   jim’s  catty  ‘ew’  is  punctuated  by  another  insistent,  possessive  touch  near  john’s  lap.

Send  💋  to shut my muse up with a kiss

Anger was burning through him. Anger at John. Anger at this situation. Anger at himself for choosing this. But yet here he was, carefully cleaning up John messes like normally. He was used to John just doing things. But usually Mycroft was given a small heads up about whatever it was. Just so he was prepared for the blowback, even if there wouldn’t be one.

“I’m saying you need to let me in on things before you do the-” he’s caught mid-word by John’s lips on his own. A small gasp escapes him. It makes him angier and more annoyed. He hates him. Hates that he can just do this.

And most of all, he hates that he likes it. That he kisses him back without question. He doesn’t push him away right away, but he does once he gets his head straight.