#2.) she actually stepped in to /try/ to defend him for the whole game fiasco like. :(((((( | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sheepsandcattle · 5 years

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Chapter 9

“Benders!”

Both of their heads whipped around at once, zeroing in on a group of four men across the street, chuckling among themselves as they walked on.

“You what?” Brandon scowled at first, squaring up his shoulders as he jutted out his chin. “You know what they say, mate; it’s fags that can sniff ‘em out best.”

“Gaydar,” Curly had supplied, giggling mostly for show.

They’d heard it all before, been pushed about a few times for being a bit camp, but they were seventeen and drunk on a Tuesday afternoon and had no reason to take life too seriously. Besides, they’d found a long time ago that carelessness is contagious; most people that would take the piss would end up taking a shine to them if given the chance.

That day didn’t seem like one of those times though, because the poor bloke’s mates were cackling, shoving him playfully to keep him sweet, but he’d gone red in the face and looked over the road at them like he was thinking about crossing it. He’d said, pathetically, “fuck off,” but couldn’t think of much more.

“To be fair, mate, you’re a bit of me, you are,” Curly snorted, pointing across the road, back at him.

The stranger, still glaring as his mates chuckled (at least they knew how to have a laugh), looked like he was about ready to fire a comeback their way, but Curly already had Brandon bent over a bollard as he humped him from behind. Brandon did his best to wriggle away, but was too busy laughing too and couldn’t quite straighten himself out.

“Fucking rank,” the bloke scoffed, then added, “you’re sick,” as he stormed up the street in the other direction while Curly and Brandon stood doubled over, snorting and whooping with laughter as the red-faced wanker stomped off.

***

Curly’s never fancied a bloke in his life. That’s how he knows he’s not gay — and, trust, he’s had plenty of opportunities (mostly since he moved from home, actually) to dabble in all that shit, but it just doesn’t… It’s not…

But then he’s never really fancied a bird before, either and he’s had chances there, too. He’s just always felt a bit too immature to be thinking about getting himself a girlfriend so, honestly, he’s not quite sure what it’s meant to feel like to like someone in that way. All he does know is he hasn’t looked at Jordan and wanted to snog his face off or anything, which he knows is a bloody big part of it.

He can’t really say he looks at Jordan and sees him in any kind of way other than wildly bold and just a bit too cool for him. Maybe that’s all it is though; maybe he’s just chuffed because some fella he thought was cool at a party now seems to quite like him and it’s got him all giddy. But then, he supposes, straight guys don’t go on dates with guys because they ‘seem cool.’

“So you are gay?”

“What? No, I aren’t gay. I don’t want to shag the guy, m’just…” Curly huffs, stunted in thought as he forgets where exactly he was going with it in the first place.

“You’re just…” Lola smiles, amused. He doesn’t know what he just is, but she’s waiting patiently — for his conclusion or for him to find the tabs he’s trying to dig from his inside pocket as he speaks.

They only met tonight, at a party he came to with the sole purpose of dealing then fucking off, but ended up staying until now, 3am, to talk to this lass called Lola about a love life he’s never had but might have soon but also might not because he’s not gay and, in fact, might not ever have because he in’t straight either, so where does that leave him?

“Curious.” He shrugs, satisfied for only a moment before he adds, “about him. Curious about ‘im, not about my… Preference. Or whatever— Where the fuck are my drugs.”

“I told you. I’m sure I saw you sell the whole batch,” she insists for the third time in the past ten minutes. “You should keep better track of your stash, Curly.” She still says it like she’s testing it out, even after never having heard his real name. “Listen, I have these pills. You let me try a line for free, so I’ll share.”

And she does. Fuck knows what she shares, but she does, and Curly loses some time but ultimately ends up sat in the living room as he watches some bloke talk obliviously to his mate as a long, black, thousand-legged creature shines beneath the ceiling light as it scurries out of his right ear and down his face and neck, over his shoulder, down his front, exoskeleton creaking as is bends, down his trouser leg, growing longer and wider as is crawls…

“Fuck me,” he mumbles, reaching blindly to his right to grab Lola’s wrist, get her attention and ask, “what the fuck is coming out of that geezers—“

Lola just laughs, powder pink hair falling into her face as she multiples right there beside him. He’s about to comment on that, but then he’s distracted again anyway, back to the giant insect, and his eyes wider than the black hole in the ground that the creature crawls into before it closes back up again, beige carpet growing back over like ivy.

It’s the shortest but most intense hallucination he’s ever had.

***

“What are you on?” Jeff tries to frown but ends up laughing as Curls plops into the passenger seat of his car.

“I d’know mate. I didn’t ask,” Curly grumbles and buries his head between his legs, shutting his eyes because he’s about three wrong moves away from yoshing in on Jeff’s car mat. “I think I saw Beelzebub.”

Jeff scoffs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Buckle up.”

“Can’t.” He groans. “I’ve never in my life… esveranced—” Air gets trapped in his throat. ‘No,’ he thinks, ‘no sick in the car,’ and breathes.

“Esver-what?”

“These girls I met tonight,” Curly wines. “She was about fifty of them.”

“I have no idea what—“

He groans, head shaking in his hands. How is Jeff not understanding how mortifying this situation is? “Then this bloke ‘ad a thing in his ear an’ then the floor went. And I looked like a twat.”

His mate chuckles then and says, “well, yeah.”

“Have y’got milk in? I need coffee and maybe a… What’s them things with—“

“Sorry, pal, I may be your cabby but you’re not my lodger tonight. Couch is taken,” Jeff says as the car turns left and Curly falls sideways against the door. “And we thought J was wasted.”

“J,” he repeats and then slowly raises to sit back in his seat. All the streetlights smudge together. “Jordan, J?” Jeff hums and oh God, he can just see it now; Jeff going home and telling Dean about this, Jordan overhearing, all of them getting a right kick out of it. Jordan will never text him then because he’s a weirdo that gets high, has a gay crisis and sees the devil in strangers’ ears. “Don’t tell ‘im I’ve seen the Devil.”

“You got it, pal,” Jeff says.

"No, serious,” he insists as he flails his right arm before something flies out of his sleeve and onto the floor between his feet

“What the hell was that?”

He looks down, feels about until his hand touches plastic and he retrieves a small baggy. “Are you taking the piss,” he scoffs. He knew he never sold a whole batch.

***

“I’m telling you mate, I’ve never known anything like it.” Curly shakes his head, slouched back on the couch as Oscar presents him with a mug of coffee. “It -cheers- it lasted about thirty seconds; monsters; back holes; seeing doubles; everything, and then it was just… Done. Proper creepy.”

“You’re not cut out to be a drug dealer, Curly,” Jules mocks as he spreads out in the recliner. “You don’t have the self-discipline or tolerance.”

Oscar chuckles as he sits beside him on the couch. “Or the stomach for it, if the steps outside have anything to do with you.”

“Better than yoshing in the kitchen sink,” Curls shoots back, and Oscar can’t argue with that because, yep, that was fucking minging and Curly thanks his lucky stars often that it was Oscar and not him that clogged the sink with—

His phone buzzes as Jules goes on a rant about said sink fiasco, suddenly reliving the fury of that night, and Oscar has to defend himself all over again.

Curls digs his phone from his pocket, just glances at first to see— Fuck sake.

Jordan.

He knew that dickhead wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut and, although his dramatics left with the contents of his stomach last night meaning he’s not so convinced now that Jordan would cut him off over his drug-induced (un)holy experience, he’s positive he’s not going to enjoy reading whatever punchline the guy has about Curly’s antics. He’s heard how brutal Jordan can be.

15:24 - guess i’m texting first - game over

Oh. Oh, okay. Curly can feel himself grinning already, shit, and has to excuse himself to his bedroom because he can feel Oscar frowning over his shoulder and needs a minute to just… Smile like a twat. He perches on the edge of his bed, tries to think of something exciting to say but his mind is blank.

15:25 - youre a good sport

Is that funny or rude? Both? None? Should he have said ‘lol’ or is that not cool anymore? What if—

15:25 - 2 questions

Okay, fast replies. Curly likes that but also kinda needs time to gather his thoughts because apparently Jordan is even cool over text and he needs to work out how to match that and how not to make it obvious that he’s usually the type to use text-talk and excessive smileys.

15:27 - just no maths pls

15:28 - deal. 15:28 - 1. will you be free at 7pm friday?

15:31 - yep thats good for me!

“Curly your coffee,” Oscar calls through the door.

“In a minute,” he shouts back, maybe a little too harshly, but he’s too busy stressing over whether or not exclamation marks are stupid. “Sorry, just. Hang on.”

15:32 - cool 15:32 - 2. will beelzebub be free at 7pm friday? :(

Heat rushes to his face before he ever reads past ‘Beelzebub’ and he physically slams his phone into his mattress as he groans.

“Curls? You good? You sound like a dying—“

“I’m fine,” Curly groans as he lays back on top of the sheets. “I’ll be back out in a second,” he adds and feels for his phone.

15:35 - jeff will die.

#fs in the chat for our boy JEFF #Hope the texts werent confusing. italics = j. bold/italics = curls #Also 'I aren't gay' - i think that bad grammar might be a british thing but it was intentional lol #ch #ch9 #writing

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sorrowsflower · 7 years

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(2/2) And for me, Adlock is definitley canon, but still after few months this Molly/Sherlock scene rubs me off. I know he was played by his sister, he was forced to say these words to Molly, and still i'm disappointed that he said these words to Molly (she deserve better, tho). So, my question is what's your piont on this scene? Sorry for a mistakes, english not my natural language. P.S. Is it true Lara and Ben were dating briefly (?) while filming AsiB and after? thanx

Alright, so first off, apologies. I’ve been deliberately putting off answering this particular ask because I wanted to think it out.

I know this is not a popular opinion, especially among the people who liked TFP, and those who ship Sherlolly, but I’ve never particularly liked that scene because to me, it screamed inauthentic and forced. And even worse, it did a disservice to not one, but both female characters involved in this scene, Molly and Eurus.

And this is not the Adlocker in me speaking, but the story-teller and the viewer.

When I create a story, especially one as complicated as TFP turned out to be, I always try and take a step back and think, “is this necessary? is this the best route for my character to take? is this even believable?” Even in a plotline as outrageous as Sherlock (which I’m not saying is a bad thing, I love that it’s over the top), the story has to be, even in some small measure, grounded in reality and authenticity. It has to be believable, relatable enough for me to care about these characters and what happens to them.

A lot of people say that the scene was about Sherlock’s character development, his growth, he’s becoming more human, and I think, objectively, that this was the problem. The writers put the spotlight so much on Sherlock, that it devalued both women involved in the scene. A typical example of female characters being sacrificed on the altar of manpain, but let’s not even get started on that.

Why do I say this?

Because first of all, it places Molly (as the writers so often and persistently have) in the role of the tragic, ever-smitten girl with the unrequited love, the one who refuses to say “I love you” because she’s still so crazy about him and she just can’t get over him, and she can’t tell him that because her heart’s breaking and saying it will prove his power over her.

It completely undoes whatever “progress” or “development” her character has supposedly undergone (which, to me, isn’t even saying much, since the guy she got engaged to so that she could supposedly “move on” is a farcical replacement for Sherlock; but again, I digress). I’m not saying she can’t still love Sherlock after all these years, romantically or otherwise, but why can’t she say, “I love you” to him in a way that says “Yes, I love you. And it may still be romantic. But I also love you as a person and as a friend, and I’m not afraid to tell you that because I know, in your own way, you love me back.” Why does she have to force him to say it first, as if she needs some scraps of affection thrown her way?

Now, understand, I’m not saying this to diss on Sherlolly or Molly fans. Because I do love Molly sometimes (she’s a socially-awkward nerd like me, what more do I need to say?), and there are scenes where I think she has grown in some ways, but sometimes, I just wanna shake her (and the writers) and go “Girl, what the fuck???? Are you kidding me?”

This is not about defending Adlock for me. It’s about Sherlock’s love for the people in his life. Do I think Sherlock cares for Molly? Yes, absolutely. Do I think he loves her? Yes. Do I think there’s a romantic love there? No, I don’t. I believe Sherlock loves Molly in the way he loves John, Mary, Rosie, Mycroft, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade and all the people in his life. Wholeheartedly, though not often expressed. So I’m not disappointed that he said he loves her, because he does.

The only reason it turned into this angsty, I-hurt-my-friend-emotional-context thing is because the writers persist on treating Molly like a smitten girl who needs some crumbs of affection thrown her way, instead of the mature, self-respecting woman she could be.

Also, I’m gonna put Eurus in this too, because I feel like this scene was also a disservice to her character in a way, because of that whole “haha, there wasn’t really any bomb, you just hurt your friend for nothing."

This really topped the whole fiasco off for me, by that point, I’m like -_- "you’re kidding, right?” Because it renders Eurus essentially toothless. For all her bluster and nonchalance regarding human life, she’s actually just bluffing, she’s not actually gonna kill Molly (or any of the main characters; she wouldn’t even let Sherlock kill Sherlock). For all the build-up that she’s this cold, apathetic, psychopathic mastermind Game player, she’s actually all bark and no bite. Great.

I think that scene, like many others in TFP, tries too hard to needlessly inject drama into an episode that felt the need to top all the other episodes. I can’t blame them for that desire, because they’d introduced some very heavy and very intense plotlines, as well as remarkable villains the first two seasons (essentially I’m not counting the disappointing Magnussen or the even more disappointing Culverton Smith), and there’s a lot of pressure to top all that.

So they came up with this elaborate Saw-esque mind game that was actually mostly just a bluff on Eurus’s part. No little girl in danger, and John, the perennial damsel-in-distress, needing Sherlock to “save him” again (*insert eye-roll here*). Which is why I feel like the whole episode itself was inauthentic and forced. I feel like it was trying too hard.

Also I’m disappointed in the essentially passive role Sherlock played in this whole episode. Where’s the brilliant genius who can always turn any situation, no matter how dire, to his own advantage purely by his own intellect? Who outwits everyone? Instead, he just accepts Eurus’s terms and is merely a player in this Game.

That being said, all of this is just my opinion, and I am in no way trying to tear down any particular ships or characters.

P.S. I have no idea if Lara and Ben were dating, sorry. I know there were some papers who tried to say they were. I don’t really try to go into that too much, because these are real people, with real lives, both of whom have children and seem to be happily married. I love them both and I’m happy for them, but there’s a reason I don’t do RPF. As much as I love them, I have nothing to do with their lives, so I stay away from that out of respect for two people I admire very much.

#long post #replies #late replies #the final problem

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