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#s3 fix it
racheld93 · 2 years
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Headcanon that childhood friends Billy and Argyle exchanged friendship necklaces.
Billy never takes his medallion off and Argyle rarely forgets to pull his owl pendant on every morning.
And when they see each other again, for the first time after Billy moving away, they both are still wearing them as they hug with tears in their eyes outside Max's hospital room.
Because Argyle has been mourning his best friend for eight months and Billy's been trapped in hell and believing he'd ever see another soul again.
Only it turns out Billy wasn't dead, not completely, and he wasn't in hell, just some hellscape dimension called the Upside Down. And when he heard the sound of heavy metal like a siren's call, he ventured out of his barricaded basement in Loch Nora and found some idiots trying to save the world without the proper equipment like his homemade flamethrower.
Their first words to each other after their long tight embrace are:
"Righteous beard and flowing hair my dude. You're like, pulling a white Jesus, with the whole resurrection and saving everyone."
"It's ten in the morning, you should not be this high without supervision."
Argyle grins and hugs Billy again, so tight the blond tries not to flinch from is ever aching and still recovering body.
"I missed you so much, Billiam."
Billy huffs and hugs back, eyes welling up again.
"Missed you too, Argie."
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cupidford · 1 year
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A Doctor in the House by KittenKin
S3 fix it. Sherlock returns, with John immediately taking care of him as his doctor. John uses index cards as a guide to speaking with him, and Sherlock in turn has questions.
Johnlock Love Letters #2305
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helloliriels · 2 years
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PAYPHONE I
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If we're going to fix it ... this is where it begins ... I'm at a payphone.
>>>>>>>>>>>> ☎️ <<<<<<<<<<<<
TWO WORDS.
                    NOT. DEAD.
      OH YEAH? HERE’S TWO MORE FOR YOU! 
                                                                   EAT. SHIT.
John stood by the cab after the restaurant, the cafés had all kicked them out.
He was peeved. Holding the door.
Waiting impatiently … for Mary to join him.
She was still talking to Sherlock … ! 
      What were they talking about?
      What could they POSSIBLY have to talk about … ?
Not that he cared … 
He didn’t.
She could talk to him all night, if she wanted to!
He huffed. Folding his arms. 
         Glancing at his watch.
Ducking his head in to ask the driver to wait just one more minute …
          Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Could you hurry it up already, Mary?
He wanted to go!
                  NOW.
He certainly wasn’t going to talk to Sherlock again! Not after tonight! 
Who did he think he was?
      Who did he think John was?
      Did he really think John was just going to … what? Wait for him?!
      YOU WERE DEAD! SHERLOCK! John wanted to shout again. He had the right!
            You were …
                      You were dead.
John gripped the door and prepared to slam it shut - when at last Mary came back to the waiting cab and climbed inside. Allowing John at LAST the freedom to get out of Sherlock’s sight and to get Sherlock back out of his head … The arrogance! 
"Can you believe him?" John asked. The snark in his voice, “Incredible. Comes back from the dead and just - *pop!* - expects me to drop everything in my life and come running back to him, ha!” 
Like I would do that! Why would I do that? Normal people don't do that, Sherlock! I can't just -
He turned back in his seat to make sure Sherlock could see them leaving … I'm leaving! Sherlock!! SEE ME LEAVE??!
I’LL TALK HIM ROUND!
           YOU WILL … ??
                    OH YEAH.
They sat in disjointed silence for a few moments.
John twisting around to glance back a few times. Making sure Sherlock had followed a few paces … Making sure he had TRIED to see John - had SEEN John leaving him. Seeing him seeing him.
Ha!
“I know you were about to propose,” Mary said, breaking the silence at last,
    “but we were never going to get married, John.” She said it stoically, looking out of the window.
That made him do a double-take, “wait - we weren’t ??” He was confused.
“Not after tonight! He’s back, John!!” Mary looked at him, exasperated!
“So what if he’s back? I don’t care!” John looked out his own window, rolling his shoulders.
“You don’t care?!” She tossed her curls back with laughter, “Pfft!! … and I’m the bloody Queen of England!”
Her hand slipped onto his thigh, and she squeezed.
John turned back to face her, staring down at her hand touching him … and knew what she was going to say next:
                        “You have more to talk about.”
“Mary -”
                         “Without me there …”
“Mary!!! I -”
                        “John! I would say yes tomorrow … IF you still wanted to propose? But not like this … Not with this huge elephant in the room! Not with him popping up every -” She patted his leg and withdrew her hand, as if to emphasize her point, “- you know he would keep showing up. Keep finding you …”
John’s jaw dropped as Mary signaled to the driver to let her out at her flat and instructed him to carry John swiftly to the nearest payphone. 
Then she gently shut the door to keep him in, a kiss on her finger that she placed against the window pane, and a single, small tear rolling down her cheek. A bittersweet smile on her face.
He watched out the back window to wave her goodbye. This time feeling like he had actually left someone behind on the pavement, as he was driven away … 
I’M AT A PAYPHONE.
      TELL ME TO COME HOME.
“I’m at a payphone, Sherlock.” 
        “Where?”
“It doesn’t matter whe-” John huffed in exasperation, rubbing his face, “look - I shouldn’t have called, okay? I just-”
“No! Stay on the line, please! John?!!” Sherlock was begging, “John? Are you there???”
(Continued beneath cut ✂️)
How could John resist when he was begging?
He let out the breath he had been holding, “yes, I’m still here, Sherlock. Though honestly …" he shook his head, "I don’t know why … ?”
The line was silent for a moment. Both of them, thinking. Reminiscing. Regretting.
“I made a mistake, John,” Sherlock said penitently, breaking the silence.
“You?? ” John stuttered, incredulous at what his own ears were hearing! Again! “Did I hear you right? Sherlock Holmes made a mistake??!”
“The most painful thing I’ll ever have to own up to in my entire life, John - YES!” Sherlock replied. Sounding tired.
“And what mistake was this one? Hmm?” John asked, still sarcastically, “was it jumping to your death and making me watch? That’s a good one to start apologizing for, by the way … Or was it … for pretending like you didn’t give a fig that Mrs. Hudson had fallen down the stairs and broken her hip, just to send me away that day? Oh! You know what? You might regret just leaving me - your BEST FRIEND - to grieve for two years … over a man who was still very, very MUCH, aLIVE!”
“None of those things,” Sherlock cut him off, by saying.
John’s mouth hung open. Gaping as his brain tried to come back online. He closed his eyes. Seeing red. “See? This is why I shouldn’t have called you,” John spoke through gritted teeth, “why did I ever listen to Mary …”
“-Mary had you call me?” Sherlock sounded surprised this time.
“Yeah,” John huffed in exasperation again, “she said we had things to tell each other, and that it MIGHT be easier over the phone …”
“She was right,” Sherlock replied, “wise woman.”
John’s anger deflated a bit. What was Sherlock saying?
             “What mistake, Sherlock?” He needed to know.
“I didn’t listen to you,” Sherlock replied, “and I will always regret it …”
John’s anger fizzled out and lay smoking in the downpour of his own regrets,
             As he sat breathing into the line, waiting for Sherlock to continue …
Listening.
To the sound of Sherlock alive … Sherlock breathing … into his receiver … 
No sweeter sound in the entire world in that very moment!
“I should have listened to your advice in the courtroom, and kept my mouth shut,” Sherlock responded after a moment. Absolute contrition in his voice, shaking with guilt at the admission. “I shouldn’t have tried to be clever.” 
John went to say something … but found he couldn’t form words …
“I should have listened to your advice about friends … I should have let you in on my plan! Asked for your advice in taking Moriarty down! I shouldn’t have ended up on that roof at all … “ Sherlock continued.
John held the receiver closer … hardly daring to breathe … 
       “I shouldn’t have - On that roof, John? I thought I had him cornered! I thought he wanted to win as much as me!
              I -I was wrong! John?!” Sherlock’s voice cracked a little, “I didn’t realize … He was committed to it, no matter what the cost!”
John held his breath as he could hear movement on the other end of the line … Shaking … Heaving breaths in and out …
Was …  
           … was Sherlock …
                                         … crying?
“It was me, John,” Sherlock’s voice sounded so small … “it was my own fault I had to jump … in the end! I showed my hand! I kept him talking … made him see that as long as I had HIM, I could call off the assassins!”
“The assassins?” John asked, needing clarification.
“Trained on you, Mrs. Hudson, and Greg Lestrade!” Now that Sherlock had started, his words tumbled out like a freight train on full steam, “I thought I could work a way around ... get him to call them all off, but … He. Killed. Him-self!  
      Without him ALIVE, John? I couldn’t call them off!!! He won!
       I didn’t know how long they would be following you around? He was planning for the big picture, John! The entire time! Don’t you SEE??! I. HAD. TO. JUMP! … and I couldn’t just show up again and be alive?! It would risk all of your lives … again.
     I had to disappear for good …  
           And if I was LUCKY … 
                 If I was brilliant and diligent enough … 
                       Maybe I could take down his network …
                             Take out his web of assassins …
                                   And finally set you all free …   ME …   Free!
                                     Because I messed it all up.
                                     It was all my fault …” 
“NO! Sherlock, NO! This was never YOUR fault! This was Jim Moriarty! This was the FUCKing SPIDER! Weaving a web and sucking you into it! The only fault of yours … was being fascinated enough to be caught up in it!“ John couldn’t believe he was saying this, consoling Sherlock, but he was RIGHT! Dammit! “Moriarty is to blame for having you jump, for killing himself, for setting assassins on us and giving you no alternative - You didn’t do that, Sherlock! You didn’t pull the trigger!”
“No, John! No, I -?  You know I never would have! I needed him alive!”
“And he knew that,” John reiterated, reassuringly, “he used that.” Calming Sherlock down. Hearing his breathing normalize … “Sherlock - he knew you couldn’t resist the game … so he rigged it. House rules. All casinos have them … and Jim was a gambler …’
Sherlock let out a relieved choke of breath. Heaving again with tears at the balm being placed on his open wounds, “You ca-an’t for-r-give me, John! I-I d-did this to you!!! To ALL of you!!” 
“I can forgive you … of course!! I forgive you??!!” John corrected, insulted that Sherlock would even think he could not forgive this! … If there had really been no other choice??!!
“I made a mistake too, Sherlock,” John said after Sherlock had collected himself. His sniffles audible over the open line … 
“You did?” Sherlock asked. Curiosity in his tone. John could practically hear him close his mouth and hold back the slough of questions that wanted to break free from their dam … 
“Mary was right,” John rubbed his hand over his face. Willing himself to stay strong and to finally get the words out there … into the open! Where they always should have been …
“ I could never have married her," he continued. Letting his words take time to sink in.
Sherlock didn’t respond. He wasn’t breathing … 
John took it as a good sign, and kept going … hoping to God he was right! 
“I couldn’t have married her, because I’m still in love with someone else …” John plunged forward, defying every signal in his brain telling him to STOP BEFORE IT WAS TOO LATE!!! “... And seeing him again, tonight …” he took a deep breath … “made me realize, I would never be happy with anyone else.”
John was holding the phone so close to his ear. Trying to make out any noise on the other end of the line … 
It was silent … was Sherlock …
            not … okay with this???
“I mourned you for two years, Sherlock … because, I’d loved you for two years! … More than I’d ever loved anyone in my life before … maybe more than I ever could love anyone else … I … You’re amazing and brilliant …! How could anyone hold a candle to SHERLOCK HOLMES??! After everything we’d been through … ? I don’t know if you’ll hate me for saying this, or never want to see me again? But … I have to say it! I want to say it ! Even if you tell me you don’t want it. That’s fine! … It’s … it’s all fine …  I’ll be fine with that, I promise! I’ll try … to be fine with it but … just … let me say it? Okay?”
The door to John’s phone booth swung open and Sherlock was standing there. Holding his cell phone to his ear - mic muted - staring at John Watson in absolute disbelief and wonderment … Scanning his eyes, his face, his expression … seeking confirmation physically … of the words that had been pouring through the phone in his hands … 
John held up the phone. Turning to face him. Opening his heart to examination, willing to be laid out and dissected if necessary - for Sherlock to believe …  he spread his arms open in a display of allowing everything to be seen … 
“Say it … John?” Sherlock asked. 
                                      Scared.
                          John could tell.  
                                      Broken.  
                        Beyond anything 
                                     John had ever seen before … 
                          and … hopeful?
“I love you, Sherlock Holmes.”
John smiled. Hanging up the phone without breaking eye contact.
Sherlock took two long strides to wrap his arms around John and push him up against the wall of the phone booth. Kissing him hard and drawing a moan from his lips as they united at last!
Taking the time to give each other everything they had missed …
Everything they had wanted to say before, but couldn’t …
Everything they had wanted to express … about how much they loved 
        And loved,
                And loved,
Over the past two years. 
                            Apart.
“Never leave me again?” John asked, as Sherlock pulled away just enough to allow them each to breathe. Holding John’s face close. Panting still … on each other’s lips. John’s arms wrapped beneath Sherlock’s coat, to feel his body heat.
The windows of the phone booth were steamed up and foggy. Blocking them from outside view of the CCTV cameras … 
“Marry me?” he asked, quietly …
Sherlock nodded against his forehead. Resting it there.
Then closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath - before bowing his head again to take John’s lips with his own. A soft, sweet reply to his proposal.
The phone rang.
The two men ignored it. Continuing to kiss and weave their hands in each other’s hair … oblivious in their euphoria.
It rang.
            And rang.
            And rang.
At last, Sherlock let go of John’s hair with one hand and reached over to lift the receiver. Barely pulling away from his lips to elicit a mewl of dissatisfaction from John as he barked into the receiver, “Yes? Mycroft?”
“Did you propose yet, brother mine?” the elite voice on the other end asked. Above it all.
“No … I’m afraid … John beat me to it,” Sherlock smiled at the growing grin on John’s face as he leaned forward to place a few more sinful kisses there while they let Mycroft stew … The slurp and pop of lips - no doubt - more than the elder sibling had cared to overhear!
John stifled a giggle, while Sherlock struck a very serious face and spoke into the receiver again, “did you have something you wanted, brother mine?
       Or did you just call to hear John and I snog each other in a very public phone booth?
                       We were about to do more …?”
Mycroft cleared his throat, “I know you were.
            That is why there is a cab outside! waiting to take you both back to Baker Street immediately … for the privacy you require. Please do get in, with my regards. Mary has already been apprised of the situation, and was not shocked by it. I would of course offer you my congratulations on your choice of mate - although … I cannot help but pity John for his … ”
“Touching, Mycroft - as always,” Sherlock hung up and looked the question over at John … each of them glancing at the sleek black vehicle waiting at the curb.
“Shall we … go home?” John asked.
“I’ve missed home,” Sherlock replied, slipping his hand into John’s. Feeling each finger as they touched between, bewitched … breathing out the thing he had been waiting to say for two long years:
                           “I’ve missed you.” 
>>>>>>>>>>>>☎️<<<<<<<<<<<<<
..............................................................
tagging @johnlocky @chinike @rhasima @fluffbyday-smutbynight @ohlooktheresabee @whatnext2020 @missdeliadili @2smach @masterofhounds @khorazir @sarahthecoat @simplyclockwork @arwamachine @calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jobooksncoffee @sherlocksbillowingcoat @chriscalledmesweetie @inatshej @nottoolateforthegame @safedistancefrombeingsmart @glows-n-the-dark @justanobsessedpan @eplapourdissant @amyreadsandstresses @forfucksakejohn @i-call-me-clarence @peanitbear @ephemeraljimin @alltingfinns @gaylilsherlock @timberva @zira-and-crowley @pocketwatchofmycroft @topsyturvy-turtely @summerfly-lesbian @peageetibbs @sgam76 @7-percent @shelleysprometheus @raina-at @discordantwords @kettykika78 @meetinginsamarra @keirgreeneyes @liifafaa @iwlyanmw @luciengenic @janetm74 @myopicmeerkat
THIS IS A SERIES of alternate versions involving a payphone.
It may have happened this way ... or ... 💋
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elledelajoie · 2 years
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Make that Change
Quinn asks Kurt to eat lunch with him the day after he had approached the God Squad. How does their conversation change the course of Kurt's future?
Friday before lunch, Quinn managed to grab Kurt and get him to come with her to the classroom where the God Squad had met the previous afternoon. She pulled her lunch out of her bag and sat down. 
“Eat with me, please.”
He nodded and sat down. He pulled the carrots, grapes, and cheese cubes out of his bag. By the time he started to eat, Mercedes, Sam, and Joe came in. They sat down across from the other two.
“I asked them to come for just a few minutes. I owe you all an apology.” She turned and looked at Kurt. “You were right, Kurt. I was being harsh and reductive.” She turned back to the other three. “And I wasn’t a good representative of the God Squad yesterday. Mercedes was right. We should have prayed for Dave, which we can all do silently for a minute before the three of you can go back to lunch. I still need to talk to Kurt.”
They nodded. Everyone closed their eyes and stayed silent for the next couple of minutes. Kurt didn’t pray, but he respected their choice and waited for them to finish before he began to eat again. The other three got up and went back to the cafeteria.
“So,” she started, and then paused. “I went home and thought about what you said. You were right that I didn’t lose anyone’s love. I knew the instant I was certain that I was pregnant that I would lose my dad. And I knew that because once I was old enough to feel the pressure of being his perfect Chastity Ball Princess and Prom Queen – I knew that as long as I kept up the façade, he would love me. After I thought about it last night, I realized that what he gave me wasn’t love. It was approval, and those two things are different. He never loved me. That’s hard to deal with, but until last night, I never considered what Dave has been dealing with. Your comments made me think about the real possibility that Dave’s mother is like my father. His dad only came to church occasionally, but his mother was very involved. That church supports conversion therapy. It wasn’t until after I got pregnant with Beth that I really considered a lot of issues, like being gay or being an unwed mother, and how the church I grew up in punished people for not fitting their strict guidelines of behavior. Their method of bringing ‘sheep back into the fold’, as they called it, was to isolate them until they were desperate enough to repent and accept that they had brought the punishment on themselves. They’d repent and follow the ‘straight and narrow’ again just so that they could rejoin and be brought back ‘into the fold’ and not be shunned by everyone they knew anymore. There was no ‘Hate the sin. Love the sinner.’ going on at that church. There was just ‘Hate the sin. Hate the sinner until the sinner breaks.’”
“That’s terrible, but not unexpected. Even Mercedes still doesn’t treat me like she did before she found out that I didn’t believe in God. And she doesn’t go to an overly strict church like the one you’re describing. You know, she took you in and made a place for you in her family, but when my dad was in a coma the following fall, there was no offer of me staying with them after I admitted to not believing in God. Knowing her mom, if she had known, I’m sure she would have offered, but Mercedes obviously didn’t tell her.”
“I hadn’t thought about that, but you’re right. I know that I didn’t do anything to help, other than going against your wishes by going to the hospital to pray for him, which in retrospect, I understand why you were angry. We could have prayed at another location and done what we thought was right, while not going against your wishes.”
“I know I lashed out at you all that day, but you were all being awful. I’m agnostic, not illiterate. I’ve read the chapters in the Bible referred to as ‘The Gospels’. I wanted to know why God hated gay people enough to basically command his followers to harass me. You know what I found? Nothing. Not a single word spoken from the person you consider to be the Son of God. No place did I find him saying anything that didn’t amount to ‘Be nice to everyone.’”
“You’re right. I know you’re right. That’s what made me change my mind about homosexuality. Anyway, I asked you here to apologize. I’m sorry that I didn’t really think about the whole situation before I made judgment calls about how Karofsky tried to end his life. I shouldn’t assume that I know enough about anyone’s life besides my own to understand their decision-making process.” She shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t even understand my own decision-making processes sometimes. I thought about it, and I don’t think that most people who get that desperate are thinking enough about other people to make the whole thing about hurting other people. They are hurting so bad that they can’t see beyond that hurt. If they could, they wouldn’t be considering ending it all.”
“Exactly. And the point I was trying to make about everyone still loving you is that you are still a beautiful young woman. When you walk out of these doors after graduation, this chapter in your life will be over. What happened will still be in your memory, but it’s not tattooed on your forehead. You aren’t required by law to wear an ankle shackle or a scarlet letter on your chest for life. No one will know that you made a single bad choice when you were 16. No one will hate you on principle. People will not post things to your Facebook wall telling you to try to kill yourself because the world doesn’t need another teen mother. You were isolated and harassed for a brief period, even if you consider the past three school years as part of your isolation and harassment. You’re going to Yale. You can reinvent yourself in any way you see fit. Dave will wake up gay every day for the rest of his life, and people will hate him for that. I wake up every day being hated and wished dead by people who don’t even know me. There’s a world of difference between the two. Even if your mother hadn’t come around, even if you were still living with Mercedes’ family, you’d still face a future where you will never be hated just because you’re you.”
She nodded. “I should have never trusted Puck about the condom. I was a virgin and didn’t know what it felt like with versus without, but I should have checked. I should have put the thing on him myself and not gone through with it if he didn’t actually have one.”
“That’s not the choice I was referring to....
Read more on AO3.
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ravelqueen · 8 months
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David and Michael's physicality as Crowley and Aziraphale is truly something to behold bc there is not a single shot Crowley isn't lounging or sauntering or creeping or loitering or sprawling everywhere meanwhile Aziraphale seems a lot more contained but it always seems like there is a hundred bees worth of emotional energy right under his skin waiting to burst out and it's actually marvelous really they are so well cast
(Also the fact that both of them look like this 😍😍😍 when the other one is the most them is just a bonus)
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sanshinexx · 3 months
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Don't worry guys he's fine, it just took him a while to find his way back because he can't fucking see anything :]
[More incorrect quotes and other tbb art here]
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sourfrootz · 10 months
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survivors guilt
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veveisveryuncool · 4 months
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the too-clever fox, finally caught
this is a very sorry to my followers for who i will become tomorrow (feral over sonic prime s3)
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hannibard · 2 months
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Say what you will about the witcher season 2 but all the "Yennefer took Jaskier in the divorce", "Geralt and Yennefer are a divorced couple rasing a kid and dating the same man", "geraskefer love triangle with an oblivious Jaskier in the middle" memes and fics were top tier
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foolishlovers · 5 months
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lafirechicken · 4 months
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I’m so glad that we all agree Johanna is secretly built
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robo-nonagon · 5 months
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✿『ᴋɪᴍɪ ɴɪ ᴛᴏᴅᴏᴋᴇ』✿
I hope that one day, these feelings can reach you
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cupidford · 2 years
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Kaleidoscope by Silvergirl
Johnlock Love Letters #2269
After Sherlock is shot, John has to work out what happened. Since John can’t trust any around him to tell him the truth, he’ll have to play them all against each other.
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000marie198 · 3 months
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It's been established that when Nine gets scared or feels threatened, he reacts by intimidation or anger, depending on the situation. It's his go-to instinct developed as a reaction to his trauma. As a way to protect himself.
And here, Nine is fucking terrified! He started hyperventilating, his pupils contracting with terror. The root cause of Nine's trauma was getting bullied and beaten up for years. All he wished for was for a safe, isolated place to call his own without having someone invading it.
And now, his greatest fear is coming true... His safe haven, his home, getting invaded by people who hold malicious intent for him.
Can you imagine the flashbacks he could've been having? The fear? The past coming to haunt him again, the thing he dreaded most coming back around to hurt him even worse. Can you imagine encountering the root of your trauma striking with a vengeance? And on your journey to try and heal from it no less.
He doesn't deserve this
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that-ineffable-devil · 5 months
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Y'ALL. I was talking to a coworker about l my "why is Hell rationing miracles" post and he straight up threw some Terry Pratchett logic at me.
What if it's not a infinite/finite power issue?
What if it's about maintaining balance?
What if Hell and Heaven have to maintain the same amount of miracle use on both sides?
As he put it: What if it's a yin yang thing?
Or as I put it: What if they're balancing a fucking checkbook?!
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howlerbat · 2 months
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Vane-Flint-Rackham negotiations between seasons 2 and 3 must’ve been wild like
Jack: I’m glad we’re finally over the whole “stealing the gold” situation but now we should maybe think about protecting that gold?
Flint: Our top priority should be restoring the fort, without it Nassau is completely exposed and defenseless
Vane: you bombed it!
Flint: I knew you were gonna throw that in my face
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