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french-vanilla-in-the-clouds · 2 years

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𝐀𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Sherlock has always had bad ideas... but this one is just ridiculous. After a spider bite renders the consulting detective unconscious, Y/N has to deal with her partner’s carelessness.

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“I don’t think this is a good idea...”

Sherlock turned to Y/N and grinned. “Well, it’s not the worst, either. How else will we substantiate the accused’s defence?”

“Allow me to rephrase,” Y/N began tensely. “This is by far the most ludicrous idea that you’ve ever had! And that’s saying a lot for you, Sherlock Holmes!”

“It’s perfectly sane,” he assured. “Even so, ludicrosity is the essence of methodical study!”

Sherlock and Y/N stood in St Bartholomew’s Hospital laboratory as they investigated their latest case which John had already dubbed ‘The Spider’s Web’. A woman, accused of killing her neighbour denied the charge, pleading innocent after an alleged spider bite incapacitated her throughout the thirty minutes in which the murder was surmised to have occurred.

Now, Sherlock and Y/N hovered over an illuminated examination table, where the case’s greatest piece of evidence awaited testing... the spider.

Y/N looked down at the arachnid crawling in the mason jar and cringed. “What are you trying to prove here, Sherlock?” she asked. “That you’re a reckless investigator with an unhealthy disregard for his own safety? We already know that!”

Sherlock looked up at her and quirked a brow, unimpressed. “If the spider bites me, and I blackout for a half hour, we’ll be able to prove the accused’s story. If I’m completely unaffected, we’ll know she’s lying and the Crown prosecutor can present my findings in court. Really Y/N, keep up.”

“Couldn’t we just ask Molly to run a toxicology test?”

“I like to be thorough,” Sherlock shrugged.

“You like to be showy is what you mean...” Y/N mumbled to herself.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

Sherlock gave one last pointed look before pulling out a pocket watch and handing it to Y/N. “The moment I show any signs of wooziness or sickness after the bite, I need you to start taking time. Thirty minutes, Y/N. Remember that.”

“Sherlock, this is so dangerous!”

“Nonsense,” he scoffed. “I’ve done my research and gone through the preliminary analyses. I am absolutely convinced that nothing will happen. The accused is clearly lying, I know that to be a fact!”

“What if something does happen?” Y/N pressed.

“I’m never wrong,” Sherlock insisted. “At worst, It’ll be a small nip. I’m sure of it.”

Y/N rubbed a hand down her face and sighed in defeat. “Alright Sherlock. If you’re sure.”

“I’m positive.”

Y/N gestured towards the waiting spider and looked at Sherlock deliberately. “Go ahead,” she invited.

He made a move towards the mason jar but stopped short. “No kiss for good luck?” he inquired.

“I thought you said that nothing would happen.”

“Well yes, but it would be nice.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes and Sherlock stifled a laugh. “No, you’re right,” he said. “You’ll owe me a kiss after I prove you wrong, and show you that this experiment is completely safe. The accused is guilty and her story is nothing more than a rouse.”

Flashing Y/N a self-assured grin, Sherlock carefully shrugged off his coat and rolled up the sleeve of his dress shirt. Y/N watched as he lifted the mason jar to eye’s length and squinted at the small creature inside. “It’s nothing more than a common house spider,” he said surely. “It could hardly incapacitate a fly, let alone the likes of me.” He lifted his other arm and dipped the jar above it, gently forcing the spider out. “Do your worst, old friend,” he whispered to the arachnid.

Y/N clasped onto the pocket watch tightly as the spider crawled the length of Sherlock’s arm. “Why isn’t it biting you?” she whispered. “I don’t suppose it’s agitated,” Sherlock whispered back.

Y/N tapped her foot, growing impatient. “Perhaps you should agitate it.” she said snidely.

“You’re beginning to agitate me, Y/N,” he retorted. “Perhaps you’ll have the same effect on the spider.”

Y/N smacked his arm playfully, giving him a jolt. It was there that the spider decided to bite.

"Ouch!" he cried sharply. "That's curious. I wasn't expecting such a sting."

Y/N bit her lip and watched as Sherlock shooed the spider back into the mason jar. He was uncharacteristically quiet as he did so.

They waited a few minutes, but there was no obvious reaction. "How long has passed since the bite?" Sherlock finally asked. Y/N checked the time. "Five minutes and thirty seconds."

He smirked. "Now you see darling," he began smugly. "I told you that nothing would happen. As the world's greatest consulting detective, I'm too apt for mistakes! In fact..."

Sherlock hadn't finished his thought when his speech slurred and he stumbled back a step.

"Sherlock?" Y/N called warily. His knees buckled and Y/N reached out an arm to catch his tall frame. “Perhaps it wasn’t a simple house spider...” he mumbled. She wrapped her arms around him and gently lowered him to the floor.

"Oh no," Sherlock moaned jaggedly. "Y/N, this can't be happening! What have I done? All my life, I- I---"

Y/N dropped to her knees and held his head against her chest. "What is it, Sherlock? Does it hurt badly?"

"No," he said weakly, his eyelids fluttering. "It’s much worse than physical pain, I'm afraid."

Y/N felt a wave of panic course through her. "Don't tell me it's lethal!" she cried out. "Is this going to kill you? Are you going to die?"

"Not lethal," he affirmed faintly. "I just can't believe I was wrong. I'm never wrong..."

With that, the consulting detective closed his eyes. Y/N stared down at him incredulously as he began to snore softly. It wasn't the spider's venom that he was worried about. It was the fact that he had made a mistake!

Y/N rolled her eyes at his ego. "You're an idiot," she said, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "But you're mine, I suppose." With the unconscious consulting detective resting on her lap, Y/N reached for her mobile and dialed John's number.

"Doctor Watson here.”

“Hello John,” Y/N began. “Are you still near St Bart’s?”

“Yes, of course. Sherlock told me to stay on standby, though I’m not quite sure why.”

“It seems he’s a bit lethargic... knocked out cold, really.”

“Is he wounded?” John asked anxiously.

Y/N spared a glance at Sherlock and smiled at his unruly curls. “Yes John, he’s been wounded. Though it’s not what you think.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s mostly an injury to his pride.”

John sighed on the other end of the line. “I think I understand. Stupid experiment gone wrong?” he asked causally.

“Does he conduct any other kind?” Y/N replied with a laugh.

“On my way.”

Y/N tucked her phone away and looked at Sherlock still lying on her lap. “The wounded detective,” she mused. “This could have been easily avoided.” She watched his deep breaths and though she wanted to be annoyed at his stubbornness, she couldn’t find it in herself to reprimand him. It was as she had said before. Sherlock Holmes may have been careless, pompous, and snide; but he was hers.

“I know you can’t hear me,” Y/N teased. “But I think the accused is innocent...”

Sherlock’s light snoring was his only reply, and Y/N giggled. “Sweet dreams,” she whispered. “Is it too late to tell you not to let the bedbugs bite?”

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Give Fragmented Passions a try!!!

This was a weird one I’ll admit, and it was scarring. Just writing this fic made me itchy and yeah-no. I really hate spiders. Ack, I’m actually cringing... WHY DID I DO THIS TO MYSELF??? Okay, now I’m genuinely scared, I’m checking every corner of my room just in case...

Oh, as for the title... arraignment and araña, get it???? Okay, no direct relation BUT law and spiders are kind of the theme for the fic sooo...

***If you’d like to be tagged in any future Sherlock fics, just tell me in the comments! (and if you’d rather not be tagged in ALL Sherlock fics, please specify; EX: Reader x Sherlock, Reader x John Watson...)

oh yeah, and visit my multi fandom taglist!!!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

tagging the great: @twisted-monster @starryeddie @high-functioning-lokipath @the-chaotic-cow @turkisherlockian @kabubsmagga @aephereal @andthevillainshallrises @cosbloos @cookiemumster1 @eternal-silvertongued-prince @bogginsreadings @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @lucywrites02 @danzalladaggers

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thanks-mike-stamford · 3 years

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Fics that inspire my writing - Part I

This is Part I. The other parts will be linked here as they are posted: Part II | Part III

When people ask "What's your favourite fic?" I can't truly give an answer. It depends on my mood! How can I choose only one? Sometimes you want to reread that one fic for emotional comfort, sometimes you want that other one for the hots, sometimes you want to suffer a bit with the characters and have the relief of the happy ending, and sometimes you love a fic so so so much, but it hurts and you don't pick it up again ever. There's no way I can choose a favourite.

So this is just a disclaimer that this list is not really about favourites.

This list is about writing.

I'm not as prolific as a writer than I am as a reader. I try to do my best, of course. The best way to learn a lot about writing, though? I have to say it's reading. I can attribute most of my vocabulary (in all languages I know) to reading. When talking about writing fiction, it's more than vocabulary, though: narrative, prose, dialogues, plot, characters, themes... It's a lot happening.

These fics I'm going to mention are the ones that I read and think yo myself: oooh, I wish I could write like that. So I use them to study! Perhaps I could try this type of narrative? Or I could build my characters to be complex in this way? Perhaps I could phrase things in a less mechanical way, like this author does?

I'm drafting a lot of stuff recently and in these new works I'm trying to improve the way I write. I'm a quick reader but slow writer, but I hope my future works can show I learned from these stories below.

So, here we go, 10 Fics That Inspire My Writing, in no particular order. This list is not exhaustive either, it was horrible to choose just 10.

Part I

Limping forward series by bendingsignpost

I absolutely love this series, which is a main fic from John's POV and a short prequel from Sherlock's POV, supposed be read after the main story. I'll refer to the main story from now on.

This fic is dialogue-heavy. The moments of description are usually very close to the POV, and while it's used to indicate actions, the main purpose is always to show what John is feeling by how he interacts with whatever and whoever is around him. Sometimes we are left with dialogues that are not explicit. The characters know exactly what they mean, by the described reactions, but the reader is left to wonder - or most importantly, to actually think about what they mean given the context. The fic feels almost like an intelectual exercise in which we practice how to read people's feelings. The climax of the fic doesn't come from a misunderstanding that can be fixed with a conversation, for example. It comes from an emotional misunderstanding, and it's brutal, because there's no way it couldn't happen. Both John, Sherlock, and the reader need to understand the meanings behind the actions - if you have a bias or trauma, it can be hard. Sherlock's deduction at the climax scene comes from an emotional perspective - he deduces how John felt, and that would finally explain John's actions, which weren't clear for him. Just like Sherlock says in the story - it's magnificent.

These two aspects - dialogue with implicit meaning and description with a purpose - are aspects I lack in my own writing. I struggle immensely with dialogue, and my descriptions are usually "Character A is here or there, talking to B or C, and they're thinking X or Y". I look up to how this fic works in trying to get better, and I did try to incorporate those "invisible conversations" into my works.

The Illusion of Control series by starrysummernights

Uuuh, omegaverse! Not everyone's cup of tea. I love omegaverse though, for two reasons: you can create completely different world dynamics and sex/gender dynamics, and play with it.

This series needed to be a series. Every part is important. We have alternating POVs of John and Sherlock. If you read the series as a WIP, as it was posted, you could have been under the impression that it was strictly porny. But it helps a ton to read it following the chronology of the story (the prequels and sequels to the original one were attributed accordingly). Because the trick of this series is John's character arc. We are immediately presented with John's life story since childhood until he starts a relationship with Sherlock. He has endured great emotional trauma, but at first he doesn't even recognise he has been traumatised. Lifelong issues build up and eventually will spill over. It's not quick to deal with it, that's why it needs a full series. His relationship with Sherlock deepens, he needs to make some important choices, he faces great struggles. And step by step, we follow John's journey. It's absolutely brilliant to get there. It hurts, but it hurts good. And it's nobody's fault, at the end. He's not reduced to his issues, he's an entire complex person, but we are always aware how said issues played an important role in shaping this character.

Writing such a long story, posting it out of chronological order, and not losing sight of the character arc is what makes this fic stand out. One of my published fics specifically took great inspiration in this one while building a character arc for John.

Trying to Find The In-Between by NoStraightLine

Later on this was re-posted as a multi chapter fic, but I originally read it as a series when it was a WIP, and personally I think it works better this way.

This amazing work taught me a lot about causes and consequences. I think the entire series can be grouped in three parts. First part is the beginning of their relationship. They are learning about each other, playing piece by piece like a puzzle. Then second part is around Reichenbach Fall, they separate and emotional fuckery ensues, up until Sherlock comes back, the pinnacle of angst. Third and last part is them relearning each other from scratch. The relationship needs to be completely different - and they don't even know if they will get together after all, if it will ever work again. And here's the main point: it's not a single decision that warrants consequences. They had a super intense relationship at first - but if you go too high, the fall is worse. Everything is borderline unhealthy, but it could easily be attributed to love. The author doesn't shy away from showing us it's a bit of both: big love can be a bit unhealthy. To put up boundaries between them so they both keep sane you also need to limit how you treat each other, and what you expect from each other.

This fic made me think I need to estimate the consequences of how I build up characters' interactions. The reactions need to be accordingly to that measure. In one fic I tried to play with this intensity ended up being borderline unhealthy. Not something you'd want in real life, of course, but in fiction... anything is possible.

This is the end of Part I. Stay tuned for Parts II and III!

#johnlock #sherlock fanfic #writing #hoverseas talks about fic

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delightfulfics · 3 years

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Opening Up (Sherlock x Reader)

Anon Request: “Ticklish!sister that does not know how to act around sherlock because he is known for being “cold” and “distant” and does not know how to show his feelings. Reader wants his attention and affection but they are nervous because they do not want to bother him or distract him from his work.”

You had just recently found out that Sherlock Holmes (yes, the oh so famous detective) and Mycroft Holmes were your brothers. You probably would have never found out but that changed when you were taken in by him from the streets where you grew up. Sherlock decided to take you in because he knew that Mycroft, even though he was very appreciated that you were brought in and would do anything for you, would not like anyone (besides himself) in his house. So, here you were. In 221B Baker Street. Let’s just say it was a huge environment change.

For example, this morning. You jolted up from your bed as a gunshot echoed throughout the flat. Groaning, you turned your head to glance at the digital clock that sat on your bedside table. 9:30 AM. Now this has occurred before, many times. You would think that anyone would get used to it. But, no. No one would get used to being awoken by gunshots and shouting.

It took you a while to decide but you had finally gotten up and headed towards the living space. You entered the doorway and found Sherlock pacing and his acquaintance, John Watson, sitting in his chair, looking to be very absorbed in a piece of paper that was placed on the table in front of him.

“Is everything al-”

“Everything is pleasant. Now, Watson, I am quite positive the man has gone crazy.”

“Sherlock, that is no way to speak about a client.”

“You are right. The man has seemed to lost his mind entirely.” Sherlock stated. Your eyes widen as they came upon the gun, that had woken you, in his hand. Raising the gun, he pointed the gun towards the front wall near the door and pulled the trigger causing a loud bang to echo throughout the room.

“Sherlock Holmes! Put the bloody gun down and sit on your arse!” John yelled.

The Detective sighed, “fine,” and decided to see on his “arse”.

John rolled his eyes and turned to you. “I apologize, my dear. Your dear brother has no manners. Would you like something to eat? Or to drink?”

“No but, thank you for the offer.”

“You are lying.”

Pausing, you flinched at the sudden interruption from your brother.

“Excuse m-“

“You are obviously hungry and/or maybe dehydrated.”

“How would you hav-”

“It is very obvious. The way your eyes shifted when you answered to Watson. You should really consider getting rid of that habit.”

“Sherlock. Leave your sister alone,” he said as he gave you a glass of water and a ginger snap that Mrs. Hudson had made a couple of days ago. You loved that snappy old lady. She was the only one with some common sense around the flat. “He can be a pain in the arse sometimes.”

“That is quite the observation, dear Watson.” he stated and made his way towards Watson’s chair. Walking right past it he snatched up the ginger snap that John was about to consume and turned right back around to once again pace the small living space. “You seem quiet sister? What seems to be the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“You are lying once again.”

“Sherlock-”

“Watson, you see what is going on?”

“No, I do not,” John said.

“Of course you don’t,” he whispered making John glare at the Detective. “It is quite obvious what is taking place. You see, Y/N is scared.”

“Excuse me? I am not scared,” you said in defense.

“You are. You are scared of me. Scared of who I could be,” you froze in response. What in the bloody hell were you supposed to say to that? “I get it. But, I can be quite caring. Right, John?”

“Surprising, he is correct.”

“I-” you paused. He was right. You did not know him. You have heard terrifying things about him and when you had found out that you were to be taken in by him you did not know how to feel. Outside Sherlock was described as “cold” and “very distant”. You could not imagine living with someone like that.

“They are lying as well. Half of the things they say are absolutely outrageous. I mean they thought I would wear that stupid hat!” you smiled slightly at that comment. Sherlock smiled widely at seeing you smile and looked at John which had the same goofy smile that Sherlock did.

“You are right. I was scared. Of you. Of this,” opening your arms wide, gesturing to flat. “I had no family before you. I also did not want to bother you. You are a very impressive and serious detective-” John snickered, side-eying him he stood up straight and shut up. “I just did not want to be a bother or distract you from your work. I did not think I could handle this.”

“Y/N. You are a Holmes. You can handle anything,” John said.

“Well I would appreciate not being disturbed so-” Sherlock paused as he felt John death glaring him from across the room. “I mean- you do not have to worry about that.”

“Okay. Also that hat is absolutely preposterous,” you smiled widely.

“That is the first time I have seen you smile. It is quite pleasing to see.”

You blushed and faced away from your brother. You liked the attention but, you did not know how to respond.

“It absolutely is.”

“Stopppp...”

“But we are just complimenting you, dear sister.”

“I did not know you could be so kind, brother.”

Silence filled the room. “Excuse me?” You turned around. Eyes widen as your brother sat up and headed towards you. “Did you just insult me? After our very open conversation?”

“No-o of co-ursse n-ot,” you stuttered as you backed away from your older brother.

“You are lying. You have lied to me many times today. You know what I do to liars?”

You gulped. “Uh- no.”

Sherlock smiled. You backed up into a wall and turned your head to face away from him. Leaning close, he whispered teasingly, “I use everyone’s weakness, tickling.”

“Wh-” you had no reaction time as Sherlock dragged you (as gently as he could) to the floor, positioning himself where you were pinned to the floor, unable to move. “Sheerlockk....”

“Yes?”

“I am not-”

“You are not ticklish? I can tell you are from the way you are stuttering and giggling. Especially when I do this,” taking one of his hands he moved his fingers gradually in a teasing way and advanced slowly towards your sides.

“Stooopp!” you said, moving your body away his evil hand.

“I haven’t started yet. But, I will do so now,” and he did just that. Immediately squeezing up and down your sides.

You screamed in laughter and threw your head back. Catching sight of John you decided you would say what any sane person would say, “JOHNNNN HELPP MEEE HE IS GONNAAA KILLL MEE!”

“Darling, you are acting like your brother. Being very dramatic. You will not die from laughter and Sherlock would never kill you. Well at least I-”

“SHUT UP!”

“That is not very kind sister. You don’t tell Doctor Watson to ‘shut up’ no matter how stupid it is he is saying.”

Watson rolled his eyes, “Alright, Sherlock. I think they have had enough,” Watson smiled as he saw you, cackling and squirming around under Sherlock with one of his hands slowly scratching inside your armpits and the other squeezing the middle of your stomach. Tears started to form in your eyes and your face looked as if it was about to turn a whole shade darker. He knew it was time to let you breathe.

“PLEASEEEE!”

Sighing, Sherlock removed his hands and stood up. He smiled softly as he could still hear you giggling. “Well that was enough playtime for one day. I must leave and speak to Mycroft. Wish me luck,” he said and walked out the door slamming it behind him.

“I swear that the door will be off it’s hinges if he keeps doing that,” John remarked. Glancing at you he walked towards you and stood by your figure that was on the floor. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. I should be fine.”

“Good. I do not know what I would do if Sherlock killed you from tickling.”

“Yeah-h... thanks.”

“What are you thanking me for?”

“Everything. I am thanking Sherlock too but, he isn’t here. I am glad I was able to open up because if I hadn’t then I would not have the opportunity to know you or Sherlock. I was wrong about both of you before and I deeply apologize.”

“No need to apologize. All that matters is that you have found your family,” you smiled. Family. You had family.

“Okay..”

“You want to meet Lestrade? I have to speak to him about some witnesses from an earlier crime scene.”

“Yeah of course.”

Getting up, you headed to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. You smiled and tears glistened in your eyes. Happy tears. You have found your family and you couldn’t have been anymore grateful than you were now.

#tickle fic #ticklish!reader #tickle #Sherlock Holmes #sherlock x sister!reader #sherlock x reader #john watson #sister reader

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johnlock-hell-resident · 3 years

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A brief little oneshot inspired by this:

"Headcannon: Mike Stanford wasn't in Series 2&3 because he will only come back in Series 5 when John is in a relationship with Sherlock and talks to Mike and says 'I'm thinking about marriage' and Mike responds with 'You're the second person to say that to me today' and John will ask 'Who was the first?' AND CUT to Sherlock buying an engagement ring" - Original Prompter Unknown

* This is not my prompt! *

The Big Question

The sun shone through the windows of Oscar's, a bar several blocks down from Baker Street. It's frequent patrons usually varied from avid football fans to old, tired men with high stress levels. Dr. John Watson lied closer to the latter on the scale. He needed an escape. Not forever, just a few hours impersonating an everyman to clear his head. If there was anyone in John's life who could help him do that, it was Mike Stanford. He was nice enough as most gents go, though he had that all-too-common satisfaction with the dull and the pointless. John couldn't be a further contrast. He always needed something to race his heart to keep him sane. Even still, Mike's company was appreciated. Especially now. John turned to Mike and spoke what he had been dwelling on for... it must've been months now.

"I'm thinking of... I'm thinking I'm going to propose", John sighed in relief, releasing the words he had caged in his mind. He hadn't said this to anyone, he was afraid to, not until he was absolutely sure he was ready. He had done this all before once, only then he was in a relationship with an assassin.

Mary.

She was the best thing that could've happened to him at the time. Sherlock was dead and he was more alone than he had ever been. More so than after the war. He had lost his life's purpose then, but now he had lost the love of his life. He couldnt find anything worth believing in. Not after believing in Sherlock. He hoped and wished with every breath in him for his friend to be alive. He wanted to move forward, and like a listening angel, Mary walked into his life. She was lovely, she was sweet. She had that very same spunk Sherlock did, adventure living in her with every beat of her heart. He loved her, he promised his life to her, but then... Sherlock rose from the dead.

It was a miracle! If John had prayed for a Corvet, he now believed he'd wake up one morning and there it'd be, sitting in his driveway glittering in the sun. Regardless, he had moved on and he was ready to start his new life with Mary. Sherlock was still, and would always be, his best friend. It hadn't taken long to forgive him. John didnt need to imagine what life without Sherlock was like, and the memories still wet his eyes. It had dawned on John too little too late that he had made a terrible mistake, sitting at a pale, lace-brimmed table between the love of his life and his bride. No matter the joy his wife brought him, his heart still pledged itself to Sherlock. Just when the two had come to peace with their own lives, together yet still so distant, Mary attended an appointment, you might say.

An appointment in samara.

Then he was alone. Without his partner, with a daughter to raise, and his best friend shut in his own disturbed mind. But, as per usual without fail, they saved each other- Sherlock's rescue being more emotional than literal. With time and a surrender of guilt, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson at long last shared their visceral longing for one another.

Oh... it had seemed a lifetime since then. John could hardly imagine where he'd be now had Sherlock not remained by his side through it all. Involving John in his adventures made all the difference in his livelihood. Not to mention his assisting in parenting Rosie.

John had been in love before, obviously, but the way he felt with Sherlock was unlike anything he had experienced before. He felt protected and loved in a way that he was unable to feel for himself. He could find himself in the stickiest of circumstances and he could know that his consulting detective wouldn't be far behind. Above all, he felt at peace. Nothing had to be hidden or repressed anymore. Soulmates was a fantastical term, but it was the closest John could come to describing Sherlock and him.

And now here he was. John was prepared to commit the rest of his finite time to the man he loved. He only had to figure out how to ask.

At John's admission, Mike paused. And then he chuckled.

"You know, you're the second person to say that to me today"

"...Who was the first?"

---

"Too bulky... too small... too flashy...too rusty- good lord! Do you have any wedding bands a shade other than brass?!"

"Ohhhh I read you loud and clear good sir, you are obviously a man of exquisite tastes!", the jeweler flushed nervously. This gentleman's abrasive, clear-cut manner did not make him an easy customer.

"One would think a shop primarily selling engagement rings would have a larger selection", the stranger replied curtly.

An uncomfortable laugh was his only response.

The mysterious man studied every gem and trinket with merciless judgement. No ring was suitable. Only as he began to turn to leave did his eye catch the perfect ring. The ordinary shopper would never have noticed it. This simple silver band was practically invisible amongst the glittering, bedazzled others surrounding it. It was classy and uncomplicated; the exact ring that his partner would appreciate.

"I'll take it."

The jeweler eyed the bland item suspiciously.

"That one?... Are you sure?"

"Very."

Relieved he had found something to his liking, the jeweler scuttled to the cash register before the other man would change his mind. "Alright now, that will be... do I know you from somewhere?"

"No"

"You sure? Because you look awfully familiar-"

"- noone you know, I'm sure. Do you take credit cards?", the customer dismissed swiftly.

"Oh! How could I have forgotten!", the jeweler laughed, "I've seen you in the papers! Didn't expect to see you here, mister. Especially without the hat."

"And, there it is", the other sighed, annoyed.

"I've got to say I love your hat-"

"Notmyhat", he seethed.

"Oh, forgive me, I'm babbling. That will be £5,000- Sherlock Holmes"

#things i write #johnlock fic #johnlock wedding

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krabjoons · 4 years

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book it [knj]

⮕ summary: back to school shopping. two people. one book. what could go wrong? a lot of things, actually. but then again, some things could also go right.

⮕ pairing: kim namjoon x reader

⮕ genre: fluff, crack, angst, bookstore!au, college!au, a condensed version of enemies to lovers

⮕ word count: 3.9k

⮕ rating: pg-13

⮕ warnings: mild cursing, the slightest references to what happens at a frat party

⮕ a/n: okay first things first, aAAAHHHH dynamite came out! and it’s an absolute bop (and record breaker)! so i decided to post my very first piece of writing in celebration. and also, because it’s that time of year again, you know, back to school season (yay? idk), i decided to use that as the theme to this drabble. hope you guys enjoy! :-D

p.s. if you wanna talk to bookstore!namjoon or bookstore!y/n, feel free to do so here!

okay so

maybe it wasn’t exactly the best idea you’ve had to go back to school shopping literally ONE week before school starts

you can’t help it! you’ve just naturally been a procrastinator. there’s nothing you can do about it

well, there actually are lots of things you can do about it, but you’ll get to it later (haha, get it?)

anYWAYS

you’ve finished all of your supply shopping and almost all of your book shopping

keyword being almost

you would’ve got everything except barnes and noble didn’t have one of your textbooks

hoW?!?! isn’t barnes and noble a giant bookstore retail chain? how can they have literally every book you can think of exCEPT the very one you need?!?!

and you’ve gone to other bookstores too but they don’t have your book either

today is just not your day

so you’ve decided to take a look at one more place before you have to turn to the online edition of your textbook

which really isn’t ideal because after two minutes you’ll probably “accidentally” end up scrolling endlessly through your instagram feed

so in short, if you want to pass this course, you really, really need this textbook. like, a lot

you pull up to a cute little bookstore, nestled in between a starbucks and a barber shop

Pied Piper Books, it reads. cute.

you push the door open and are immediately welcomed with the smell of warm vanilla. bells on top of the door jingle to alert the (cute) guy at the front desk to your presence

“hi! welcome to pied piper books. i’m jimin, how can i help you today?” he asks with a grin, eyes shifting into happy crescents

“hey, i’m y/n. i was looking for a psychology textbook. um, this one?” you say, holding out your phone to show him the title of the book on your phone

he squints at the screen before nodding eagerly

“oh yeah! there’s a whole rack of psychology textbooks in the back,” jimin exclaims, “you should be able to find it there”

you thank him profusely before strolling to the back of the bookstore, taking in everything around you. there are books of all kinds: nonfiction, historical fiction, fantasy, sci-fi, and more! it’s incredible how this cozy little bookstore has enough variety of books to rival the last barnes and noble you went to

“ah! here it is!” you exclaim when you finally see your textbook in the middle of the shelf

what luck! it’s the last one there, too. you reach your hand out to grab it when, suddenly, another hand bumps into yours

“oh, shoot, sorry!” you hear a smooth, low voice say

you turn to look at who the owner of the voice is and you have to physically concentrate on keeping your jaw from hitting the floor

in front of you is one of the most attractive men you have ever seen in your life

actually, scratch that

in front of you is possibly the most attractive man you have ever seen in your life

he's got honey colored skin and black hair. his burnt umber colored eyes twinkle with the lights of the bookstore. his lips, very plump (and kissable), are forming into a smile

he's smiling at you!

wait- why does that smile look kind of weird?

now that you're getting back to your senses, you realize he's giving you one of those tight-lipped smiles, not a genuine one. and his hand is slowly tightening on the book you have your hands on as well

"um," you're not sure how to phrase this because:

1) there's a vERY handsome guy nearly holding your hand

2) said guy isn't looking very fondly upon you right now

3) he's trying to take the boOK YOU'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR ALL DAY

so as much as you would like this hunk to see you in a positive light, you would like to pass your psych course a lot more

"i, uh, i really need this book. like, a lot. for a course? that i need to pass. yeah. so this book is gonna help me pass. and i need it. a lot. yup," you blabber

what? it's not your fault this (very attractive) guy is making you all flustered

he nods slowly and smirks, making heat rush to your cheeks

"that sounds really fun," he drawls. "but i need this book too. i mean, isn't it fascinating how the human mind works? i'd love to read this book, especially once i get out of class."

is he being serious right now? he's got to be kidding… right? no sane human being just reads a textbook for fun

"oh, yeah. very funny. but out of all the other textbooks here, why choose this one?" you say, rolling your eyes, attempting to yank the book to your chest

unfortunately, you're not as strong as you hoped because Textbook Boy didn't seem to budge at all

that's when you see his arms

long story short, they're very attractive. and his hands, too. are those rings you see? um, is it getting hot in here?

gulping, you add on, "plus, what kind of lame person chooses to read a textbook instead of, i don't know, an actual book?" keeping your eyes trained on his hands holding the book, inches aways from yours

he chuckles. "wow," he remarks as you finally look into his eyes, "do you not know what sarcasm is? of course i'd rather read something carl jung has written over whatever pearson has published here. i need this for my psychology class too, sherlock," he shakes the book that the two of you are holding

did he just insult you? of cOURSE you know what sarcasm is. you're the queen of sarcasm. novices tremble in your wake. who does this guy think he is?

"well, i'm not going to just give up this textbook. i spent all day looking for it! can't you just go somewhere else?" you groan out, running your free hand through your hair in frustration. you miss the way that his face softens for a second before returning back to its original determined appearance

"sorry, but as much as you need this textbook, i do too. i have class next week and-" he begins before you cut him off

"wait, do you go to seoul national university?" you ask, to which he nods uneasily. if he ends up wrenching the textbook out of your hands sometime later today (because it doesn't look like you're going to let go of it anytime soon with the death grip you've got on it right now), you're not going to follow him back to his dorm and kill him just to get a textbook, are you?

he didn't think you were mental upon first glance, but now he's starting to change his mind. maybe going on another long search in other stores for the textbook (that he'll probably have to end up purchasing online anyway) is worth it if he comes out alive at the end of the school year

"oh, cool! i go there too. so do you have professor lee for psych, then? i have him. i'm so glad he didn't give us summer work. like other professors i have assigned so much stuff for us to do. i'm happy that-" you start rambling again, making the guy smile and shake his head

"yeah, i have professor lee. and i also need this book," he lamely tugs at it again. you pout and are about to say something when someone interrupts him

"well, well, well. what do we have here?" jimin saunters over, taking note of Textbook Boy and you. specifically your guys' hands and how close together they are

“i came over because i thought i heard some yelling. but you two look, um, busy right now. glad to see you resolved any issues,” he teases after seeing the two of your flushed faces

“no, jimin, we actually do have a problem-” Textbook Boy begins before getting cut off by jimin

"you know namjoon, when you asked me for a book, i didn't know you were also meeting your lady friend here,” jimin interjects, wiggling his eyebrows at you teasingly, making you even more embarrassed than before

so his name is namjoon

wait, as in kim namjoon?!

like THE kim namjoon?!?!?!

you’ve heard a lot about him before but never seen him in person yet. (what? is it really that bad of a thing that you prefer binge-watching netflix over social interaction?)

he’s one of the most popular guys on SNU’s campus. the guy that everyone swoons over, boys and girls alike. beauty, brains, and brawns, kim namjoon’s got it all. the perfect friend group, the perfect wardrobe, the perfect life. he’s got everything

well, almost everything. just not this textbook, and you’ll be darned if you go down without a fight

“okay, wait. there’s been a misunderstanding. i’m not his lady friend. i need this textbook for my psych class. like right now,” you explain

so let’s think

if you just yank the book out of namjoon’s hands, run through the aisle and dodge jimin (who might side with namjoon because you’ve heard they’re in the same frat), the book could be yours. if you’re lucky, you can run up to the front desk and see if anyone else is there so you can pay and leave before namjoon and jimin catch up to you

taking in a deep breath, you decide to bring your plan into fruition

namjoon's talking right now: "jimin, you know how much i need this book, man. come on, man. i mean, we're bros. who helped you pass midterms last year? me, right?"

great, now's your chance!

you yank the book to your chest and start to run, when all of a sudden-

"hey, wha- oOF!" namjoon exclaims as you try to run away from him, suddenly tightening his grip on the book, but it's too late. the tug you gave on it sends him flying into you

“what the- OW!” the two of you begin to drop to the ground. bracing yourself for the fall, you close your eyes in anticipation and land with a thud, book clutched to your chest, and back on the ground. not the most comfortable fall, but definitely better than face planting

when you open your eyes, you nearly shriek

positioned right above you, staring into your eyes with a dazed look, is namjoon

you’re under him. like, not even in a frat party or anything! in the middle of a bookstore out of all places!

eyes widening, you push him off of you, quickly scrambling away and look at jimin sheepishly, who watched the whole ordeal go down. if you were embarrassed at being caught holding the same book, you’re downright mortified right now and ready to crawl into the nearest hole

“okAY! so uh, i’ll leave you two to whatever it is you guys are doing. uh, but just hold in all your desires till you guys get home. this is a public space, after all.” jimin teases, eyebrows raised and inching slowly to the front desk where he wouldn’t have to see whatever the two of you would do next

it’s strange, jimin thinks to himself. namjoon’s never mentioned a girl to their frat before, but here he is, cozying up to y/n. weird. he shakes his head with a soft smile and continues on his way

oh no

so now you’re back to square one

alone with namjoon

and the textbook

did you forget to mention that you’re alone with namjoon?

it was much easier when you didn’t know who he was and could talk smack in front of him, but now? now you’re a lot more nervous

because you fought with THE kim namjoon over a textbook. SNU’s kim namjoon. and then you essentially pulled him on top of you in front of his friend. and on top of that, you still haven’t got your book yet

who knows? if jimin and namjoon are friends that could mean namjoon gets a preference, and thus, the textbook. they could make fun of you afterwards and you’d be forever known as the lunatic who tried to seduce namjoon to get a textbook. ouch. not a pretty picture.

for the first time, things are starting to look bleak

“uh, so we can totally pretend that didn’t happen. no worries,” namjoon chuckles, scratching the back of his neck in a combination of nervousness, embarrassment, and shyness. you can now see his dimples, which means he’s probably giving you a genuine smile, but you still can’t help but feel bad

tucking your knees into your chest and placing your chin on top of them, you whisper out, “i’m sorry.”

you squeeze your eyes shut and continue, “i really shouldn’t have done that. i didn’t mean to make you fall. like i just- i’ve been looking for this book everywhere, you know? and when i just found it, i guess i got way too excited. by the way, i didn’t mean to offend you with whatever i said. it’s just, you know that i have a tendency to- “

“ramble, i know. really, y/n you’re fine. i get it. i’ve been freaking out over this book too,” namjoon consoles you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “don’t be too hard on yourself, okay?”

you nod weakly

“hey,” he continues, “how about this? we share the book instead. we anyway both have professor lee, so this method could be easier, you know? plus, we can share notes too.”

regaining your senses, you snort, “no offense joon, but i barely know you. it’s cool if we share things, but let’s start small and just share class. i don’t know how much of you i can tolerate.”

you meant for that to be a joke. can he tell? oh god, that was not good timing. you were literally having a breakdown a couple minutes ago. does namjoon have the same sense of humor as you? does he even have a sense of humor?

“for your information, yes i do have a sense of humor. you were thinking out loud by the way,” namjoon mentions dryly when you look at him in confusion. “and ‘joon’? we’re making nicknames for each other already, baby? i thought we’d wait till at least the second date. are we counting this one as our first?” okay, so now he’s pulling your leg

wait, kind of literally

his hand (the one that was around your shoulders at first) is now resting at his side. and because the two of you are sitting against a bookshelf next to each other, it’s now slightly brushing against your thigh

you stare in shock. THE kim namjoon touching you??!?! not sure if this is a blessing or a curse

“oh shit, sorry. my bad,” he finally notices after following your line of vision after seeing you gape at your legs.

great, now you’re going to think that he’s a creep! just because he’s popular on campus and in a frat doesn’t mean he likes to spend his free time feeling up girls

plus, he wants to make a good impression on you, as crazy as it sounds. he’s heard about you before, and you’re one of the smartest people on campus, staying holed up in your dorm to study rather than go to a party

(he doesn’t know about your crippling netflix addiction that you disguise immaculately. no one does, thankfully)

plus, you’re pretty and, although he would never admit it to your face, funny

anYWAYS

so what if he has a teeny-weensy crush on you? it’s not even that big of one. it’s so tiny. the smallest. not even there

yup

namjoon doesn’t have a crush on you

spoiler alert: he’s wrong about that

and you definitely don’t have a crush on him either

spoiler alert: he’s wrong about that too

so the reason why his heart skips a beat whenever you make eye contact with him is definitely a coincidence and not because he has a crush on you

right?

spoiler alert, again: wrong

he clears his throat, “sorry, you can have the book. i’ll just buy it online, i guess”

you pout and start to argue because you still feel a bit guilty, but he stands up and offers you a hand, which you look at hesitantly but still take

“you’re not gonna like, pull a WWE superstar move on me are you?” you joke

“who says i won’t?” he smirks at you, while pulling you up closer toward him

the sound of footsteps round the corner, probably jimin, and the two of you break apart before anyone can catch the two of you in another compromising position

an excited voice exclaims, “goOD NEW GUYS! i found an extra copy in the back! wow, i mean, that’s SUCH a coincidence! what great news!” jimin waves a textbook in his hands with a big grin on his face. a little too big of a grin, if you’re being honest

“i DEFINITELY didn’t know that we have extra copies in the back at all times! wow! isn’t this awesome?” he continues

is he JOKING?!??! you know you did NOT just spend this much time fighting for a book you could have had the entire time. and you definitely know that you did not spend a solid fraction of it embarrassing yourself in front of kim namjoon

speaking of namjoon

he doesn’t look so happy with jimin either. his jaw is now clenched and arms are crossed intimidatingly. he glowers at his friend and raises an eyebrow.

wait… that’s kind of hot. if you’re being honest, it’s really hot

"jimin, you're shit at lying, you know?” he says, “what was the real reason you didn’t give us the extra copy ahead of time?”

should jimin tell you guys the truth? well, a part of it wouldn’t hurt. he can already tell the two of you like each other based on your body language and thought leaving the two of you alone would help you two get even closer

he laughs, “no i literally forgot for like the entire beginning of your little argument and then i thought it would be fun to see how it pans out.” the smile on his face turns to a slight grimace as he sees the two of your unamused faces

you turn to namjoon, wondering if he’s thinking of getting “revenge” on jimin like you are. still keeping his eyes trained on jimin, he nods imperceptibly as if the two of you had communicated telepathically

“well, jimin, you did get us to agree. unfortunately, it’s not about the thing you want.” you say in what you hope is an intimidating manner. thankfully, namjoon adds more oomph to your words by cracking his knuckles

“okay, great! while you do that, i’m going to be at the front desk, ready to ring you guys up. you know, actually doing my job? have fun, you two! try to come up with something original and scary if you’re getting your so-called ‘revenge’, won’t you?” jimin grins and ambles off

oh my god, why is he so carefree? it’s lowkey frustrating

when the two of you are alone once again, namjoon turns to you, a question at the tip of his tongue

“so are we gonna beat his ass or what?”

you shake your head and furrow your eyebrows (namjoon finds it endearing that you’re serious about teaching jimin a lesson but he’ll never tell you)

“no, we have to think something out and be clever about it. plus, physical violence isn’t exactly my forte.”

“that’s fine,” namjoon replies, checking the time on his watch. “but it’s getting kind of late right now and i have to get some stuff ready for my frat.” seeing your face fall he adds, “let’s meet up sometime soon though, okay? how about we meet up at the starbucks next door later?”

is this his way of asking you out on a date? you’re kind of in shock at the idea

nonono, don’t overthink it y/n, it’s a casual meetup. casual.

namjoon doesn’t like you! you don’t like him… that much

it’s fine!

“oh! can i have your number then? it’ll be easier for us to communicate,” he adds on, feeling slightly nervous. which is kind of weird because pretty much all other girls on campus would flip their shit if he asked that and say yes without hesitating. but then again, they also don’t accidentally pull him on top of them in the back of a bookstore

who knows? you could say no

“sure,” you stammer out, still in surprise. namjoon hands you his phone to fill out your contact information and you save your name as “y/n :-D”

he lets out a little chuckle at that, simply saying, “cute,” and you swear you can hear your heart combust

the two of you head to the checkout counter, where jimin smiles knowingly at you two

“i’ll be expecting something extraordinary from you nerds,” he teases, to which the two of you roll your eyes

“i’ll catch you later, okay?” you tell namjoon while heading out the door, to which he nods with a dimpled smile. “and thanks for nothing jimin!” you call out, waving at him sarcastically

“you got the book in the end so be grateful!” jimin yells back

before the door completely closes, you hear namjoon threaten jimin, “once we get back to the house, i’m going to beat your ass for real,” to which jimin responds lazily with “sure, but you’ll be thanking me when the two of you start dating.”

you bite your lip to stop laughing. when you open your car door and look down when you see that someone has texted you

from unknown number: well today was certainly interesting… does meeting next week at 3 work for u?

from unknown number: shoot, sorry i forgot to say my name lol. this is namjoon btw

smiling down at your phone, you type back a response

to namjoon: sure! sounds great! c u then :)

you jump in surprise when you hear a noise come from inside the bookstore which seems to be jimin’s voice

“DUDE LOOK, SHE SAID YES!!! SHE’S TOTALLY INTO YOU!”

wow, he’s surprisingly loud. and accurate, too? are you that obvious about your crushes?

“NOW’S YOUR CHANCE, ASK HER IF THIS IS AN OFFICIAL DATE!”

well, it could be your chance too

smirking, you quickly type back a response before namjoon can say anything

you hope you said the right thing

to namjoon: it can be an official date if you want it to be one ;) i know i’d like it that way

setting your phone down, you let out a deep breath you didn’t know you’ve been holding and get into your car

slowly pulling out of the parking lot, you sneak a quick glance into the window of the bookstore and see namjoon staring at his phone in shock with an open mouth and jimin standing next to him, eagerly looking at the screen

jimin catches your eye through the window and winks at you with a smile

okay

so did you say the right thing? fingers crossed you did

your phone buzzes again, indicating someone has texted you (hopefully it’s namjoon)

a big smile breaks out on your face once you pick up your phone

from namjoon: i like the way u think ;)

from namjoon: so it’s on then? an ACTUAL date next week at 3? we can decide on how we’re gonna mess with jimin later lmao

yeah

you definitely said the right thing

34 notes · View notes

anboringday · 4 years

Text

Tracey x Franklin: Just Friends

Summary: Tracey De Santa, a college freshman, has a crush on the most popular boy on campus, Chad Dillington. Determined to win his heart, she turns to her best friend Franklin Clinton for help. However, she never expected to start developing feelings for her best friend instead...

Word Count: 5.8k

Tags: Fluff!! And more fluff!! Slow burn. Friends to Lovers. (Post Ending-C)

Read on Ao3

Franklin barreled through the door of my room.

Carefully applying my eyeliner in the mirror, I glanced at him. Chiseled jaw clenched and hands balled into fists, a frown marred the space between his arrogantly shaped brows. His strong, muscled arms wired tight beneath his white T-shirt, he stood at the ready for battle.

His cognac-brown eyes searched my room from top to bottom for unknown threats. “Tracey? You good?”

“Um, duh. I’m always fine.” I returned my attention to my makeup. “I’m gonna need you to tone down some of that masculinity. It’s totally uncalled for, super distracting, and it’s ruining my good vibes—”

His warm hand came down on my shoulder. I stiffened, his eyes shrewd and accessing as they bored into me. “You sent me a text saying that you were dying, that you needed my help. You sure you good?”

His voice was soft, filled with concern. My gut kicked. Maybe I shouldn’t have sent that overly dramatic text, but desperate times called for desperate measures. I needed help. Badly. Dad was always busy doing movie director stuff, Mom was too preoccupied with shopping and yoga, and Jimmy was a complete idiot, so Franklin was the only person I could rely on.

It’s been that way for months. He picked me up from school, assisted with my homework, helped me take selfies for Bleeter, talked me through every one of my frequent mental breakdowns—he was a life saver, literally. Because he was so selflessly awesome, I decided to keep him around. Mostly because he did stuff for me, but he also had a nice personality to boot.

And we looked hella good together. Whenever we were out and about in the city, people would stop and turn their heads to gawk at our beauty. I was a celebrity after all, the sexiest girl in Los Santos according to my Bleeter stalkers. And Franklin was powerfully built, dark-haired with stunningly amber eyes. He was a man who looked absolutely gorgeous just about every day of his life. It seemed effortless for him, and I would’ve resented that if weren’t besties.

I confessed, “I lied to get you here, okay?”

“Tracey…” Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You scared the shit outta me, girl. What were you thinking—”

“Don’t be mad. I’m sorry.” I hugged him.

The tension in his muscles relaxed beneath my touch. I took his hand and flopped down on my bed. He sat beside me, our fingers intertwined. “A’ight, Trace. I’m here now, so what’s going on with you?”

“I have news,” I smiled. “The best news. You’re not gonna believe this, but Chad Dillington asked me on a date!”

He stared at me, his expression blank.

“Well?” I tapped his shoulder. “Say something! Aren’t you excited for me?”

“Who the fuck is Chad Dillington?” he asked.

“Are you kidding me?” Energy thrumming through me, I jumped to my feet. “He’s like the hottest, most popular guy at my university! He’s a quarterback for the football team, a committed member of the Alpha Omega Theta Pi—”

“The Alpha Omega what?”

“It’s a fraternity, Frank! Chad Dillington is a big effing deal, literally every chick on campus wants to bone him. He has the prettiest blue eyes and the cutest smile ever.” I twirled on my heels. “I can’t believe he chose me of all people to go on a date with. This is so, like, amazing!”

“That’s cool, I guess.” He shrugged. “You called me over here just to tell me that?”

“No! If there’s any hope in winning Chad Dillington’s heart, I’ll need support. Your support and guidance, in particular.”

His brows furrowed. “Uh…why?”

“Because you can help me understand him! Guys know what other guys are thinking, right? You and Chad have so much in common too. You’re both around the same age, you both like getting sweaty at the gym, you both like getting high—”

“No offense, Trace, but me and that preppy ass frat boy ain’t got shit in common. I’m sorry, but I’m finna pass on this one. Maybe one of yo’ friends at school can help you.” He stood and took off for the door.

“Wait!” I swerved in front of him, blocking the exit with outstretched arms. “You’re right, there are some stuff you and Chad don’t have in common. Like, for example, he’s way smarter than you and his parents are filthy rich.”

Franklin glared a hole into me, a muscle in his jaw twitched. Yikes. Probably shouldn’t have said that.

“But you’re sane,” I complimented. “Sensible, wise beyond your years, and levelheaded. You’re playing with a full deck, Frank. That’s a rarity in Los Santos, you know? Everyone here is crazy.”

“Including you,” he snapped.

“But you love me.” I hugged his muscled arm. “You’re like the ping to my pong, the yin to my yang, the butter to my bread, the chocolate to my milkshake…”

“That was cute until you mentioned the part about chocolate. Now it’s weird.”

“Frank, you have to help me!” I pleaded desperately; my mouth set in a pout. “I’m your best friend, you can’t abandon me when I need you most. It’s not fair! I’ll hate you forever if you do—”

He smothered my mouth with his palm, silencing me. “Fine, I’ll help you on one condition. No more whining and crying like a damn baby, it’s embarrassing. Makes my ears bleed, it’s horrible.”

I smacked his hand away. “Deal. Now shut up and listen.” Standing on the tip of my toes, I spoke quietly into his ear. “Chad invited me to a masquerade ball. It’s a top secret, invitation only party the fraternity is hosting at some old, underground speakeasy—”

“Girl, why you whispering?”

“Because it’s a secret. Mom and Dad can’t know about this, they’ll freak out. Promise me you won’t tell them. You know how overprotective they are, they never let me have any fun.”

“It’s all good, relax. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Swear on it.” I rose my pinky.

“I promise.” His finger curled around mine. “So the most popular douche bag motherfucker in school invites you to an invitation only masquerade ball…”

“Could you refrain from calling him a ‘douche bag motherfucker’, please?” I rolled my eyes. “Anyway, all the cool kids are gonna be there. The party is happening this weekend. Friday night. I only have two days to prepare. This is so short notice, I haven’t even picked out a dress.”

“Hey, you could always cancel.”

“No! A date with Chad Dillington is a once in a lifetime opportunity. I can’t back out now. I have to do this.” My stomach grew queasy and my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I paced the room, my fingers laced taut until my knuckles turned white. “What if I screw everything up? What if he doesn’t like me?”

Franklin appeared in front of me. I jerked to a halt, riveted to the spot as his searching gaze burned into me, glimmering with golden flecks. Lost in the intensity of his eyes, something shifted in the air between us.

As he stared back, he changed…as if the impalpable wall he kept between us began to chip and splinter. His tough, guarded demeanor crumbled before me, revealing a soft vulnerability in his eyes. A tenderness I had no clue he was capable of.

He patted my shoulder and squeezed lightly, affectionately. My skin tingled from the warm, steady pressure of his touch. “Of course the frat boy is feelin’ you,” he said softly. “He’d be crazy not to.”

My cheeks heated. Since when did he become so flattering? “You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” I mumbled.

“Nah. I mean it.” He reached into his pocket for his phone and started tapping away at the keyboard.

I peeked at the screen. “What are you doing?”

“If you’re going to a ball, you gotta know how to dance.” He pulled up a Bleeter video of dancers clad in silk doing the Waltz. “Think you can do that?”

“Uh, I dunno. Last time I tried to slow dance with a guy was at high school prom. I slipped and twisted my ankle in front of everyone. Super embarrassing.”

“Let’s make sure you don’t trip this Friday, a’ight? We can practice together.” He propped his phone on my desk and took my hand in his, the other rested on the small of my back. “You ready?”

Our eyes locked, I nodded weakly, my breath coming in short and fast. The contact was electric, I could feel the edgy energy radiating from him—like a magnetic pull that grew harder to reject by the second. He started moving, his strapping body gliding across the carpeted floor with confidence and easy rhythm. Jeez, when did he get so good at this? He was a natural! My knees wobbly, I followed his lead to the best of my ability.

I felt so small and insignificant in comparison to him, my movement stiff and awkward. And it didn’t help that I was petite, barely over five feet, and he was huge—a tall, deep brown slab of solid muscle and well-exercised strength. The force of his presence was difficult to ignore in a crowded room, and doubly so in an enclosed place like this, so close to me…

After a few beats, the heat of his direct, prolonged gaze became overwhelming. I lowered my head shyly.

“Chin up,” he instructed, tipping my head upward with a gentle push of his thumb under my chin.

Sucking in a harsh breath from the mind-boggling intimacy, I lost my footing and tripped over my own feet. He caught me in his arms just before I collided with the floor, his strong-featured face hovered over mine. Hit with all that striking masculinity at eye-level, I could only stare. Stunned. His beard was well-groomed, complimenting the hard lines of his square cut jaw, and his lips were like the icing on the cake…the fullness gave his rugged good looks the perfect touch of sensuality.

He helped me to my feet. “That wasn’t part of the dance, Trace.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” Pinching my lips together, I kicked a tube of old nail polish across the floor. “I’m never going to get this right. I’m so screwed.”

“It ain’t the end of the world. You still got time. Don’t give up, girl.”

“I wish I could be as optimistic as you are.” I sighed. “I’m sorry for being a bitch. There’s a lot of pressure on me and I’m taking it out on you.”

“It’s all good. I’m used to you being bitchy. I’m used to the screaming temper tantrums—when you beat yo’ fists against the floor and your legs start flailing like a fish outta water …” He grinned.

My stomach dropped. “It’s not funny.”

His laughter quickly faded. “My bad.”

An awkward silence filled the room. Twisting a finger around the hem of my blouse, I broke the quiet. “I’ve been working on my temperament with Doctor Friedlander. Do you think I’m getting any better?”

He leaned against the wall, his hands tucked casually into his jean pockets. “You haven’t had any episodes recently.”

“Because you calm me down right before I snap. Every time.”

“So why are wasting stacks on therapy, then? You’ve been seeing a therapist for what? Years? And you were still having panic attacks until…”

“Until you came along,” I completed his sentence. “I don’t want to become so dependent on you, Frank. It’s like, totally unfair to you.”

“Shit, I don’t mind. I ain’t going nowhere, unless you want me to—”

“No!” My heart lurched at the thought of losing him. Shocked by the fury of my reaction, I took a careful step away from him. “You wouldn’t leave me. You’d miss me too much.”

He stared at me for a moment, silent and thoughtful, his brow quirked.

I tensed. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Uh, no reason.” He lifted the brim of his black Los Santos snapback to scratch his head. “I should probably bounce. It’s getting late, and you got class in the morning.”

“Wait.” I passed him his phone and gave him a brief good-bye hug. “Do you think you could give me some guitar lessons after school tomorrow? Music class is kinda kicking my ass. I could use the extra help.”

“Yeah. Of course. No problem.” He chuckled, seemingly nervous for some reason. “I ain’t the best with the guitar, but uh, I know a few things so…”

“Are you kidding? You’re way better at it than me.”

“Slightly better.” His teeth gleamed in a smile. “A’ight. I’ll hit you up tomorrow.”

I was a little bummed about him leaving, but he was right. I needed the rest so I could wake up bright and early tomorrow. I returned a smile. “Bye, Frank.”

“Bye, Trace.” He turned to leave but stopped at the door, his gaze shifted to me. “By the way, you don’t have to lie to get me here. You ain’t gotta send no dramatic texts or nothin’ crazy like that. If you need to see me, whatever the reason, just…call. I’ll be here in a heartbeat.”

A pang struck my heart. I swallowed deep, fumbling for words. Before I managed to find my words, he was gone.

With a heavy sigh, I collapsed on my bed. What was the matter with me? Why were my brain cells starting to fry around Franklin? I had a huge date planned with Chad Dillington, but for some reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about my best friend.

My phone vibrated on my nightstand. I grabbed it and found two new texts from Franklin.

Still thinking bout how tripped over your own damn feet earlier.

Girl, you clumsy.

Oh my god. With an embarrassed grin, I texted him back; Wow. You sure know just what to say to boost a girl’s confidence :P

He responded a minute later. What if I told you that I like when you’re clumsy? I get to pick you up whenever you fall.

I read the message with wide eyes and then powered down my phone, my nerves danced wildly in my stomach. There was an ache in my chest, and I rubbed at it. Jeez. Pull yourself together, Tracey…

Read more on Ao3

#franklin clinton #tracey de santa #grand theft auto #gta #gta v #gta 5 #grand theft auto v #gta fanart #gta fanfiction #trevor philips #michael de santa #writers on tumblr

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wwwafflewrites · 4 years

Text

Of Daydreams and Realities

Chapter 6: Mind Palace

Sherlock immediately began bombarding you with questions. "How did it happen? What caused it? What started it?"

It was evidently one question, but you weren't sure where you could start. So… you didn't. "You're acting like I chose to do this."

"No, I want to know the mechanics behind it. I want to know how it works."

"Sorry to disappoint, but I don't know."

Sherlock's leg bounced as he spoke. "What do you know?" Apparently, he didn't like his own question. "What do you remember?"

He was still adamant. Telling him that you didn't know wasn't quite enough for the detective, it seemed. You were quickly becoming overwhelmed. "I started with dreams. Dreams of you guys."

"But when did it change?" Sherlock was intently focused on you. "It's real now, yes? When did it transition from measly daydreams to realities?"

You sucked in a breath. Everyone might as well know by now. "I was shot in the forehead."

Sherlock rocked back on his heels.

You were becoming more accustomed to awkward silence by now, so, hesitantly, you continued. "In my first dream, you kept saying the word—the word 'glabella'—over and over. I… I had to look it up in the dictionary. I didn't even know the word. But my dreams did. You did."

Sherlock had apparently gathered himself once again. "That mark."

"It's the scar. Fully healed. I don't know anything that can heal like that." You did, but that was beside the point. "But the dreams… they were like a warning or—or a foreshadow. I don't know."

Sherlock studied you're mannerisms and frowned. "You're holding back."

Sigh. Déjà vu.

"It's… a loop. Or… I hope it's a loop. There was a pattern with the dreams, but… you guys aren't dreams, are you?" They were both staring and you tried to ignore it best you could. "You would be the end of the loop. Theoretically, I'll repeat back to the beginning. There are two other shows that I've already visited."

Sherlock squinted. "Shows?"

At what point would they stop believing you? The part where you tell them that one dimension has aliens and the other has monsters? Or the part where you believe angels caused this loop? It certainly was a well-placed bet, but any sane person would laugh right in your face.

"In my dimension, you're a television show. Sherlock on BBC. You're popular."

John chuckled. "Well, you certainly are entertaining."

Sherlock rolled his eyes but then caught himself. "What are the other two?"

Surely, Sherlock Holmes, a man who based everything upon logic and numbers, would not tolerate the idea of monsters, demons, aliens, and time travel.

"That's…" You couldn't. You couldn't. But you had to if they were going to help you. "Doctor Who and Supernatural," you said. You crossed your fingers in hope that they weren't recognizable to them.

"She's telling the truth."

John looked to Sherlock in disbelief. "You're telling me," John said, with great courage, "that of all the television shows, you find yourself… hold on… with time-traveling aliens and supernatural monsters?"

The cat was out of the bag.

"Yep."

No one said anything, so you turned tail and left the flat.

Sherlock swore your eyes were black for a moment.

///

Sherlock found you an hour later.

You were wavering over a bridge's edge, rain lightly pouring down, peering down at the water. Your hands loosely gripped the metal and you had sat yourself on the railing.

Sherlock threw you flat on your back. He was absolutely livid. "What were you going to do?"

You closed your eyes, revelling in the solid ground beneath you. It had surely been a stupid impulse. A spontaneous mistake. You were terrified; your rapid heart was proof. You weren't suicidal, so why had you almost done that?

"You were going to throw yourself off."

"I… wanted to know if it was a loop," you reasoned. It sounded stupid out loud. Why had you done that? You didn't remember wanting to.

Sherlock's expression pinched. "And throwing yourself from a bridge is the best way to solve it?"

You didn't answer.

"Idiot," he sneered.

Sherlock was furious. So furious, he'd left you standing there, soaking in the now heavier rain.

You had set yourself on a soggy bench near a lonely bridge. There was a light sprinkle and the clouds had greyed. Your pants were soaked and you had no jacket to cover your arms, which glistened with rainwater. Your hair was dark and springy, dripping down your back. You were the epitome of loneliness.

You were startled when a thick raincoat wrapped around your shoulders and a towel was thrown into your bluish hands. You accepted it gratefully. It was warm.

"I thought you'd be cold."

"Thank you."

He sat himself beside you, unconcerned of the rain. "I do believe you."

"I know." You couldn't even tell if it was rain or tears on your cheeks anymore. "But do I believe myself?"

"Why shouldn't you?"

"Because it's crazy talk! How—how do you believe any of this? This— I can't— I almost fell off a bridge! What possessed me to do that? How…" You paused. "Maybe I was possessed."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"No, really. What if I'm tearing some kind of hole in these dimensions? In supernatural, demons are real. Not here. What if something possessed me? What if… hm." You looked at the detective, who was, for once in his life, looking completely lost.

You stood, looked to the sky. "Cas, if you're out there, I seriously need to talk to you."

Nothing.

"I'm not suicidal. That wasn't me. I may be hungry and tired and anxiety-ridden, but I don't want to be dead." You grabbed Sherlock by the shoulders. "What color were my eyes?"

"Black."

You let go of him, pacing. "It wanted me dead. But why? And how did it get in? How did it leave? I need to find out. I—" You looked to him again.

"I need to fall asleep."

///

"Let me get this straight. The only way you travel through dimensions… is sleeping," John said, perplexed. "Isn't that called dreaming?"

You smiled. "While that is a great observation, John, you have one flaw."

"And what is that?"

You smiled. "You're wrong."

He gaped at you, and then turned to Sherlock and Mrs.Hudson. "Is she allowed to do that?"

You, however, were hastily scribbling an anti-possession symbol on your arm. Hopefully, that last you until you could get something more permanent.

Your anxiety had chosen the wrong time to spark up. There was nausea pooling in your gut and your heart had decided to go for a jog. It was the anticipation. What if you never woke up? No use in prolonging it then, I suppose. Oh, yep, that's just a great thought. There is really no way you are going to fall asleep like this—

Sherlock approached and reached for you hands.

You pulled them away questioningly.

Impatient, he took them and put them in a praying position. He instructed, "Close your eyes."

You did so.

He was teaching you to reach your mind palace.

While your mind was certainly not as vast as Sherlock's, you could follow his words and guidance. Soon, without much trouble, you were picturing your home. The home you'd been trying to forget since you walked into the TARDIS. You hadn't realized how homesick you had been. It was comforting. Therapeutic. And everything suddenly added up; it was why your anxiety calmed at the thought of the TARDIS, the Impala, and Mrs.Hudson's smile. They were a representation of home in these shows, whether you consciously knew it or not.

And with your anxiety calming, you fell into a gentle sleep for the first time in several weeks.

Tags:

@jay-bel , @buttercup337 , @seriously-n0pe , @hermionejacobs , @cassiesalvatore1864.

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filesfromabibliophile · 3 years

Text

2020 Wrapped

It’s the last month of the year and we’re soon welcoming another year. Before that, let me take a look back on my 2020 highlights, which includes the books I’ve finished, my top favorite quotes, my top favorite author and favorite fictional characters from my 2020 reads. Here’s my year-end book roundup!

Lord Edgeware Dies (1933) by Agatha Christie

Murder on the Orient Express (1934) by Agatha Christie

Three-Act Tragedy (1935) by Agatha Christie

Death in the Clouds (1935) by Agatha Christie

The A.B.C Murders (1936) by Agatha Christie

Murder in Mesopotamia (1936) by Agatha Christie

Cards on the Table (1936) by Agatha Christie

The Count of Monte Cristo (1844) by Alexandre Duma

Murder in the Mews (1937) by Agatha Christie

Something Wicked This Way Comes (1962) by Ray Bradbury

Slaughterhouse-Five (1969) by Kurt Vonnegut

Breakfast of Champions (1973) by Kurt Vonnegut

The Book of Unholy Mischief (2008) by Elle Newmark

Girl in a Box (2006) by Sujata Massey

The Three Musketeers (1844), Alexandre Dumas

The Great Gatsby (1925) by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Pride and Prejudice (1813) by Jane Austen

The Sun Also Rises (1926) by Ernest Hemingway

1. The Count of Monte Cristo written by Alexandre Dumas, published in year 1844

by far, the longest novel i’ve read and one of my top favorites. it took me so long to finish this but it’s definitely worth it. it’s a classic revenge story, there’s so much to learn and to love about this story. very well-written, gripping and will take you on an emotional roller-coaster.

2. The Book of Unholy Mischief written by Elle Newmark, published in year 2008

this book kept me sane during the seven-month long lockdown. it made me cry a couple of times and i got easily attached to the characters. it was suspenseful, inspirational and heart-wrenching. talks about the importance of teachers and knowledge.

3. Pride and Prejudice written by Jane Austen, published in year 1813

i thought it would be a boring love enemy turn to lovers story but it took me by surprise. i am so glad i read this despite the negative comments i’ve heard about it, saying its overrated. i completely disagree. there’s a reason why its one of the most critically acclaimed classical novel of all time.

Kurt Vonnegut (1922—2007)

He is an absolute genius. His novels are satirical, witty and science fiction - all the things I love to find in a book. His take on human affairs and society as a whole makes you ponder about how truly crazy the world works and just life in general. I already read four of his stories and they were such fine masterpiece.

Wilfrid Sheed from Life described his novel Slaughterhouse-Five as “Splendid art... a funny book at which you are not permitted to laugh, a sad book without tears. Very tough and very funny... sad and delightful. Very Vonnegut”, a perfect protrayal of Kurt Vonnegut’s writing style.

“She was looking into my eyes with that way she had of looking that made you wonder whether she really saw out of her own eyes. They would look on and on after every one else's eyes in the world would have stopped looking. She looked as though there were nothing on earth she would not look at like that, and really she was afraid of so many things.”

― Ernest Hemingway, The Sun Also Rises

Elizabeth Bennet

Easily snatched the number one place as my favorite fictional character, which used to be Sherlock Holme’s place. She is the protagonist in Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. It won’t be come as a surprise that she’s my favorite character as it is showcased in the novel. She is a strong, beautiful woman who knows how to converse brilliantly. She is quick-witted, honest, and kind, although she can be feisty when needed be. She is what every woman would aspire to be.

The Convert written by Stefan Hertmans, published in year 2020

there’s something so captivating in this cover. it’s so simple yet artistic. maybe it’s the woman’s eyes, or the visible cracks on the painting, or the weirdly but artistically placed strip of blue-sky landscape.

#books & libraries #literature #bibliophile #novel #2020 wrapped #classic #bookish #goodreads

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seven-oomen · 4 years

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Hi Ben! I see you’re still enjoying the absolute insanity that has gripped tumblr the last couple of days XD . As someone who’s been a tumblr lurker for a number of years, this is hysterical enough from my side. I can’t imagine the sheer ridiculousness of seeing it firsthand. Virtually every blog I check, no matter if they’ve ever seen a SPN episode or not, has been posting about it. It is WILD.

I feel like I’m at least a little lucky that I always skewed more ‘lock’ than anything (mainly because my 'who’ took a hard dive into Torchwood and never really recovered), so there’s less emotional flashbacks/richochets/rollercoastering/etc. (Yes, I did in fact see the news about Sherlock season 5, but I never saw season 4 because of some of the feedback I heard before I got the chance to watch it, so it’ll take something truly impressive to draw me back now.) Although in a roundabout way Sherlock is what eventually led me to Teen Wolf because of multi-focus blogs, so I guess I can thank it for that.

Work was one of those super fun days where the manager leaving not long after I got there was all “Yeah, it’s been really calm, and both deliveries so far have been small and should be easy to deal with." So of course, about an hour after he leaves, four more pallets full of stuff show up, so I spent pretty much my whole shift trying to get everything checked in. On the one hand, yay, less customers, on the other, hauling that shit around in a mask gets hot.

That dish sounds delicious, and definitely better than my sad lunch/dinner at work. Ngl, I’m extremely jealous.

And omg, the last line post now has me nervous again because there are multiple options of who is saying whatever it is to whom, and all of them hurt. XD Also very here for the idea of a pack of three year-olds trying to pull a Parent Trap on their respective dads. Is there a treehouse or playhouse they can lock them into to talk? A moment of Jax and Stiles pointing out that they both agree on this, so they should know that it’s serious? Trying to make them draw or write down why they’re sad, or whatever similar coping skills the dad usually has the kid use? Trying to take away a treat of some sort/ground them from doing something/etc until they agree to talk to each other? So many possibilities.

I cackled at that coffee shop guy post, because the sheer obliviousness demonstrated by the op throughout the story is almost the exact energy being displayed by Peter in my fake dating fic and seeing a story of it happening in RL about took me out. XD

Also, I’m super curious what kinds of rituals you’re planning for the fic. Good, bad, druidic, wolfy, pack, wedding, birth, sexy, friendship, binding, warding, ??? Inquiring minds want to know (whenever you are ready to share of course. Inquiring minds can also be patient. ;D )

Oh, a funny moment at work! I was picking up one of the pallets after I’d emptied it, and there was a knot in one of the boards that I almost knocked out as I grabbed it, and my brain’s immediate thought was "Whoops, almost just popped the knot on that wood”, immediately followed by the thought “Oh god, no, jesus christ, PHRASING, tonight of all nights, no." (I am super sad that there is no one I work with that I could scream about this with.)

Anyway, I should wrap up because I need to leave for work soon. Enjoy the continuing thrill ride that is this site, and best of vibes for any writing attempts today! Take care! *Hugs!*

Okay I’m gonna add the preview to your fic from your last message to this one so I have it all in one message here. Because after writing over 3K yesterday my brain is just really tired and I keep wanting to nap today. Haven’t done much and replying to two messages is a bit much.

On the flip side, I did update Final Masquerade today and that chapter is almost 7K long. So yay!

Also, my fucking feelings while writing that. Jesus christ on a pogo stick.

And in the spirit of “Oh, did you say enemies-to-lovers? Sorry, I heard idiots-to-lovers”, here is another preview from the fake dating fic, because I love this part, and it features the first appearance of Fashion Consultant Peter:

“Peter, what the hell are you doing in my closet?” Noah’s voice sounded like it was thankfully more bemused than annoyed, but Peter knew that it could be a fine line to walk.

“Trying not to cry in despair, for the most part. Why is everything you own at least a size too big and some shade of brown?” Peter called back over his shoulder, still staring at the somewhat neatly organized rainbow of dull, listless neutrals in growing dismay.

“I’m wearing a green shirt right now, asshole, and not all of us are interested in looking like we got squeezed into our clothing by force. Some of us actually acknowledge our age, and try to dress somewhat appropriately. Some of us also understand the value of blending in.”

“Okay, firstly, age, as they say, is just a number. Secondly, there’s trying not to stand out, and there’s just giving up. Though frankly, I’ve never quite put much stock in either.”

“Color me shocked to hear that from someone I’ve seen wear a cardigan like it was an actual shirt on more than one occasion.”

Peter shrugged as he continued to rifle through hangers and peek into storage containers, though he wasn’t certain that Noah could even see him from within the depths of the walk-in. “If you’ve got it, flaunt it.” The sigh that answered him held a level of long-suffering, begrudging patience that Peter was far more used to hearing directed at Stiles than himself.

—–

Why yes, there is indeed a trip suit shopping in the story. Basically, I am cramming in every random obnoxiously trope-y thing I can remember from the few rom coms I’ve seen. Also, there is so much food in this story. Like, it’s ridiculous how often there someone ends up eating something. I’m not even sure where it came from.

I’ve been reading this multiple times in the last few days, it’s just so cute!

He’s in the closet huh? Is he gonna come out?

Sorry, sorry, I’ll can it XD

And honestly, I think Tumblr’s 2012 insanity streak is the only thing keeping me sane right now. Because holy shit what a week.

I never really got into Sherlock myself or Doctor Who. I think I saw one episode of Dr. who (with David Tennant I think) and three episodes of Sherlock because my mom used to watch it.

I saw 12 seasons of Supernatural though, I definitely had an obsession with Destiel and particularly Dean Winchester. Fun fact; Cosplaying Dean made me comfortable enough to come out to my friends as transgender. Because I realized that I couldn't hide my gender even if I tried so hard for over 23 years.

And it was Supernatural that eventually led me to Teen Wolf. Well, that and Grimm, which was also a really fun show and really interesting.

Oh boy, yeah whenever a manager told me that I knew I was gonna be in for a very interesting night. For sure, sucks that you had to do that in a mask though. But on the other hand, no customer interaction does sound like it was a nice break in a way. And OMG I snorted!

It’s a good thing we don’t work together, I feel like the jokes wouldn’t have ended. My god I’m still snickering.

I do have a bit of an idea to have them go to the cinema with the kids and make them watch the parent trap, which of course leads to all sorts of shenanigans back at home where Allison and Malia are constantly trying to lock the dads in a room together, aided by Derek and Laura because Malia can’t reach the door handles just yet. Meanwhile Stiles and Jackson are coming up with increasingly elaborate schemes for two three-year-olds that involve their dads being locked in tree houses, sheds, and other places. Not to mention, the kindergarten pact.

And I like to think at some point the wives and Melissa start helping the kids as well. I mean I’d really like to build one giant polyamorous family for this fic.

#ben says stuff #my convos with anon #B #submission

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shooting-the-walls · 5 years

Text

I watched His Last Vow, and, well..... here are my thoughts again

Quick thing before we start: I choose HLV because it is one of my favourite episodes, and what I feel is one of the best shot episodes. Usually, I can't make it to the end of it because I know what is going to happen and I can't stomach it. Anyway, enjoy my little angst-filled monologue!!!

• Uggggghhhhhh Magnussen is so creepy even to start with

• Quick question: why the fuck does he have "porn preference" in his little file?? Creepy, dude. Real creepy

• I hate Magnussen with a passion but ngl his house is pretty bomb

• Why has a got a statue of a knight on an ostrich, and why does the camera focus on it? Kinda random XD

• Clever how they never show him going down the stairs the storeroom. IMPORTANT LATER ON

• Lady Magnussen when she sees Magnussen: *quietly* what the fuck

• "She looked delicious" "yum-yum": EEUURRRRRGGGGHHHHHHHH

• "I have a condition": is that condition.... being a creepy weirdo???

• HEY SHE MAY BE AN OLD LADY BUT SHE'S A STRONG INDEPENDENT WOMAN SO SHUT THE FUCK UP MAGNUSSEN

• "This isn't blackmail it is.... ownership": uhhhhhh, pretty sure it's blackmail mate

• I'M SORRY BUT WE DON'T JUST LICK PEOPLE'S FACES, WHO WERE YOU RAISED BY DUDE

• The driver knowing something's up: we stan a king

• BAKER STREET YEAAAAAH BITCHES

• The intro mussssiiiiiccccc: it will now be stuck in my head for days XD

• When you miss your bestie: :(

• John being clueless XD

• *doesn't know what to do* *makes tea*

• "He the drugs one?" "Nicely put John"

• "Who's Sherlock Holmes" "See, that does happen"

• I think John feels bad for snapping at her XD

• "THERE IS NOTHING THE MATTER WITH ME. Imagine I said that without shouting": me 24/7

• Dude we know you tryna look sexy but the tyre lever XD

• "It is a tiny bit sexy" "I know": *is forcefully reminded of Boyle screaming "later sluts"*

• "I'm not just browsing": MATE IT'S NOT BLOODY ARGOS LOL

• Why is John so fucking cocky? Like we get you're an adrenaline junkie but Jesus XD

• JOHN BAMF WATSON IS HERE GUYS

• "Nope, just used to a better class of criminal": truth

• "Arse end of the universe with the scum of the earth": Jooooohn be nice

• Sherlock just so casual like " Oh HIIIII"

• "They're havin' a fight": Oh, like..... a married couple....?

• "WEll NoT nOW": we stan a queen XD

• "Alright Shezza?": *John and Mary Watson, Mycroft, Mrs Hudson, Molly and NSY have joined the chat*

• MOLLY YAAAAAAAS QUEEN PUT HIM IN HIS FACE

• "Just. Stop it."

• They are so concerned and Sherlock can't see it and I CAN'T

• "Just some guy" Sherlock: JOHN YOU DIDN'T *is suddenly more in love than ever*

• Sherlock: *hears what he sounds like* *ROLLS EYES*

• Billy knows what's going ON

• "Hang on, weren't there other people?"

• "I've got Mrs Hudson on semi-permanent mute"

• "Why do you do that": IT'S BECAUSE HE LOVES YOU

• "Cross-dressing may have been a wiser path for you": Mycroft your uncle was a bloody QUEEN

• "foR GOD'S SAKE"

John: oh deary me

• The mardy lil "I'm just gonna sit in this chair"

• MYCROFT STOP TATTLING ON YOUR BROTHER

• Also the Holmes parents line dance: I feel like this fact is super underrated XD

• "Just look frightened and. Scuttle": I LOVE THIS SO MUCH

• "I think we'd both find that embarrassing": THE FACT THIS WAS AN IMPROVISATION MARTIN IS SUCH A FAB ACTOR

• "Okay, I'll let you know if I notice"

• "Don't appall me when I'm high": genuinely one of my favourite lines of the entire series

• "God no. Trying to recruit you": Sherlock knows his John so weeeeelllll

• "Stay out of my bedroom" John: *immediately goes for the bedroom*

• JANINE HEYYYYYYYYY

• "Sherl.....": John is having a fucking field day with the nicknames

• John's confused little face XD XD

• "You have a girlfriend" "Yes I have" *JOHN WATSON CANNOT COMPUTE*

• Damn they're starting with the aquarium shit early

• "You got that from a book" "Everyone got that from a book"

• I'm sorry but Sherlock Holmes acting straight it the weirdest thing EVER

• "Maybe I will....": OH GOD. If she knows "what he's really like" (ie gay), then she also knows how much he loves John (she was at the wedding), so she's basically saying "I'll tell him you're in love with him"

• John: OH YES. THIS. THIS IS SOME NICE CEILING. MMM. GOOD CEILING

• John is so hung up on dinner XD

• "With wine.... and sitting....": I love the idea that when Sherlock eats, he just walks around like munching on shit. Like John used to get out of the shower and when he opened the bathroom door Sherlock would be standing there rocking on his heels eating a scotch egg XD

• "It's in the fridge, it kept ringing": me as an adult

• John just being so armed

• OH GOD SHERLOCK YOU'RE SO DAMAGED LIKE SO MANY PRESSURE POINTS

• BITCH DON'T BRING UP REDBEARD

• Oi listen Magnussen you little bitch

• NO PLEASE DON'T

• Shut UP Magnussen: as a Brit I cannot condone what the fuck he's saying. I AM A PROUD BRIT

• WHYYY

• WHYYYYYYY ARE YOU PEEING IN THE FUCKING FIREPLACE: this is why Moriarty was better, the sweetie had manners

• "How do you know his schedule?" "Because I do"

• The fact that Sherlock's checked with Mary if John is available XD

• CAM news: OMG THE CAM LETTER FROM S3E2, it makes sense nowwww

• Sherlock is so good at pick-pocketing

• "...your head kicked in." "Do we really need so much colour?" "It passes the time"

• I'M SORRY HIS CUTE LIL FACE WITH THE RING BOOOXXXXX

• I am fully convinced Sherlock was pretending Janine was John when he made the proposal

• SHERLOCK YOU CAN'T GET ENGAGED TO BREAK INTO A FUCKING OFFICE

• SHERLLL BEING IN LOVE WITH YOU IS NOT HUMAN ERROR, PLS GET SOME SELF ESTEEM

• "Bit rude, I just proposed to her"

• Sherlock immediately knows something's going on

• "...white supremacist so who cares?": SHERLOCK YAAAAS

• "During our own burglary" aka "really u idiot"

• The fact he immediately dismisses Mary: HE'S SO SWEET HE DOESN'T WANT TO RUIN JOHN'S HAPPINESS

• OH MY GOD THE REVEAAAAAAAAAL

• That moment when he realised. He just realises. The deductions he ignored: they could have helped her

• NO MARY YOU SHOT HIM WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS

• I'M SORRY BUT SAYING YOU'RE SORRY DOESN'T RIGHT THIS

• The sirens: again, as I said, the way this episode is made is incredible

• People often remark on who turns up in his mind palace: I totally agree with the idea that the others are his heart, "and you should never let it rule your head"

• SHERLOCK CALLING HIMSELF STUPID IN HIS MIND PALACE OH SWEETIE NO

• The fact Anderson is there tho

• THE FACT THAT EVEN THE FLOWERS TILT JESUS THE DETAIL

• "Don't go into shock, obviously": woooooooow, thanks Mycroft

• Oh Redbeard, the sweet little dog: "They're putting me down too now"

• Oh come on, he was totally looking for John's room when he ran into Mary

• NO NOT THE PADDED ROOM

• You don't understand: I actually can't watch this scene. It freaks me out so much. It's so sad, and the acting is SO GOOD.

• "Pain. Heartbreak. Loss. Death.": I'm sorry, but isn't that everything Sherlock's been through with John almost?

• Magnussen: dude I ain't telling you who shot him

• "It's raining. It's pouring. Sherlock, is boring. I'm laughing. I'm crying. Sherlock, is dying": JESUS THIS SONG

• "Mrs Hudson will cry. And mummy and daddy will cry. And the woman will cry. And John will cry buckets and buckets. It's him I worry about the most. That wife..... John Watson is definitely in danger": THE FACT THAT THAT MAKES HIM COME BACK; I'm sorry but how can you deny Johnlock after that?? He literally COMES BACK FROM THE DEAD for John Watson. Also, note how he misses off Greg and Molly and Mycroft. He thinks they don't care but they do. They care so much, Sherlock.

• "Oh you're not getting better are you?"

• MARY STOP ACTING ALL FUCKING INNOCENT YOU FUCKING SHOT HIM

• "I'm buying a cottage": I mean why not

• The fact that they're fine with each other after insulting each other XD

• I maintain that Janine is Moriarty's secret sister

• "I have an interview with The One Show and I haven't made it up yet"

• "I know what kind of man you are. We could have been friends": AGAIN she totally knows he's gay

• The fact he's self-punishing by turning the morphine down MY BABY

• The fact Greg just wants a video XD: I still want a Special Features on one of the DVDs of "videos from Greg Lestrade's phone"

• Of COURSE Sherlock's broken out, what else were you expecting John?

• Mycroft's little hand gestures like "off you go peasant": we know you love Greg really Myc

• "...stalked him one night" "foLLOWED"

• YOU, JOHN. HE'S PROTECTING YOU YOU DIPSHIT

• The fact Sherlock went back to Baker Street, BLEEDING INTERNALLY, to put John's chair back <3<3<3

• "A façade. Remind you of anyone?"

• Of course you can't Sherlock XD

• The fact he won the house in a card game with a cannibal XD

• I love this scene. Everything just suddenly makes sense. Everything she's said suddenly has a different meaning

• "You were very slow": BECAUSE HE WAS IGNORING THE WARNING SIGNS SO HE DIDN'T WANT TO UPSET JOHN

• "Even Scotland Yard can get somewhere with that"

• I feel like Sherlock had a little bit of a panic when she pulled the gun out, because he KNOWS that John is sitting there and he can't lose John Watson

• She loves John but he loves John too.... too much man, too much

• She can barely turn: the fact she knows that she may have just lost John forever

• YAAAAS WE'RE AT THE HOLMES' GUYS

• "How is it only 2 o'clock, I am in agony"

• "Is this your laptop, Mycie?" "Upon which depends the security of the free world, yes, and you've got potatoes on it"

• "Am I happy, I haven't noticed?" *gets hit with cracker*

• MRS HOLMES WE STAN A QUEEN

• "Someone's put a bullet in my boy and if I ever find out who I will turn absolutely monstrous": *takes tea to said shooter*

• When the dad is the only sane one XD

• I think even Sherlock's dad can see how much his son is in love with John

• I'm sorry but the entirety of the first bit at the Holmes': I STAN IT GUYS

• "What exactly is the point of you!?"

• "What's going on" "Bloody good question": me in physics

• Jesus Mrs Hudson is right Sherlock does look bloody awful

• "...that's me by the way, hello": HE'S SO PROUD AND IT'S SO SWEET

• "IT WAS MY HUSBAND'S CARTEL, I was just typing"

• The fact he tells him to be calm: Sherlock KNOWS that he needs to calm John down to get this sorted out

• Mary, stop being sarcy with him he's tryna sort it out

• "Because you won't love me when you've finished, and I don't want to see that happen": I mean she's not my favourite but I still feel so sorry for her

• "Look at you two: you should've got married": Sherlock: OH BABY NOT MY GAY ASS

• See, Sherlock SAYS that the reason Mary didn't kill him was because John would be part of the murder investigation, but I think it's because she's already seen what Sherlock's death would do to John: she's seen him crying at the grave, seen him drunk and screaming for Sherlock to come back, seen him unable to even walk past St Barts without seeing Sherlock hitting the ground over and over and over again, and she knows she can't do that to him again

• Paramedics: yo we here

• "She shot you" "ehhhhh mixed messages"

• "The problems are your past are your business. The problems of your future are my privilege": GET YOURSELF A MAN LIKE JOHN WATSON

• "You can mow the sodding lawn from now on": the fact John uses his wife's secret identity to get out of chores is such a mood XD

• When your mother catches you smoking: Mycroft: nope wasn't me Sherlock: *immediately blames his brother*

• "Your loss would break my heart" "what the HELL am I supposed to say to that": brotherly feeeeeeeeeeeels

• "Go and have some more": AWWW YOU LOVE HIM REALLY

• Dr Watson voice is baaaack

• Awwww at least he checks they're all still breathing XD

• "You can imagine the Christmas dinners".... GUYS THE OMENS CAME TRUE

• I love the idea that Sherlock just waltzed into Angelo's like "yo can I have a table", and Angelo DIDN'T EVEN QUESTION what he was wearing or the fact he was hooked up to morphine, just said "yoooo, I got your table sorted" and brought him food XD

• The constant flashbacks in this episode are so effective, cos they really bloody fit in

• "My brother": *literally delivers a drugged Mycroft all wrapped up with a little bow on top* "WELL I DIDN'T LIE"

• "Oh yeah we could be imprisoned for high treason btw": Sherlock stop you idiot

• "But it's Christmas!"

• "WHY WOULD I BRING MY GUN!?!!?!?!" "Coat pocket?" "YES"

• "But look how you care about John Watson": even MAGNUSSEN knows guys

• Awwwww Mycroft's pressure point is Sherlock, that's kinda sweet

• You've gotta admit Magnussen's logic is pretty sound

• "I enjoy it": yeah but you're a sadistic maniac, mate, you don't enjoy normal things

• He must have half the fucking Eden Project in his house XD

• Ooooo THE VAULTS ARE A MIND PALACE: big reveaaaaaaaaaal

• Sherlock's little look down: it's as if he's chastising himself, telling himself he should have know

• "I don't understand" "You should put that on a t-shirt": JOHN WATSON T-SHIRT SAGA #2, PART 1

• "Sherlock do we have a plan?" *silence*

• "I still don't understand" "And there's the back of the t-shirt": JOHN WATSON T-SHIRT SAGA #2, PART 2

• When Magnussen makes John let him flick his face: Sherlock can't even WATCH. He's just standing there, staring at the floor, still questioning why he didn't see it

• I mean I'm sorry but the murderous little glint in Sherlock's eyes when Magnussen is flicking John: he knows there's nothing he can do, but then he also knows what he's about to do. And he knows that John is going to hate it, but it's the only way to keep Mary safe

• THE LOVING LOOK AT JOHN JESUS CHRIST I CAN'T

• "MERRY CHRISTMAS" *bang*: JESUS SHERLOCK NO

• Mycroft sounds so panicked, like "no please don't shoot him"

• "Tell her she's safe now": THEN. That was the moment John realised. The moment he realised who he was really in love with

• All Mycroft can see is his crying, upset and scared little brother AND I CAN'T

• "You know what happened to the other one": OOOOOOO

• "There is no prison where we can incarcerate Sherlock without him causing a riot on a daily basis": dis be true guys

• SHERLOCK MAKES MARY LOOK AFTER JOHN I CAAAAAAN'T

• The fact that all acceptingly walk away, like they know what Sherlock is gonna try to do

• "The game is never over, John. There are just new players": SHERL STOP

• "6 months, my brother estimates. He's never wrong": he KNOWS he's gonna die

• The fact he can't even tell John just shows something, doesn't it

• "John there's something I need to say. Something I've always meant to say but never have. Since it's unlikely that we'll ever meet again, I might as well say it now": we all wanted it. We all wanted him to say it. Even JOHN had the hopeful little look in his eyes....

• "Sherlock is actually a girl's name": BUT HE CHICKENS OUT AT THE LAST SECOND. You can just see the disappointment and upset in his face, even on the plane, knowing that he may not see John again and John still doesn't know

• "Did you miss me?": MORIARTY YES WE STAN A QUEEN

• "You're needed": the lil panic cos he knows his OD isn't gonna work

• "Who needs me" "....England": yeah, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland are screwed XD

#sherlock holmes #sherlock #sherlocks3 #johnlock #his last vow #s3e3 #brain dump #wtf brain #kinda analysis #analysis

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zpms · 4 years

Text

24/4/16

Honey, you made a mistake- you fell in love with a writer. And now be prepared to live forever in the web of her words! Ah- you see what I did there? Web-of-her-words Tsk, a metaphor. How are you not used to these by now? The metaphors, the similes, the sarcasm and oh so many hyperboles! Remember a writer's words are her babies, and her memories her assets, so be prepared, she will use them to her fullest. Don't you know that when a writer falls in love it is the intertwining of two souls. So don't hesitate whilst opening up to her. Tell her how you feel, trust me, she longs for those hour long intimate conversations. She will savour it, bit by bit. I promise you, she will listen to every word you say. Don't be shy with the details, tell her how you feel, she'll probably already know, but she wants to hear it from you. Sneaky Sherlocks, I tell you. Again...saw what I did there? Alliteration, pft. Anyway… That’s the thing about writers, they're souls who love to empathize. They'll be there to hear you out, to give you different point of views, and to annoy you with their sarcasm when your weak grammar skills make her cringe. I mean come on, who wouldn’t know the difference between “you’re” and “your” or “their” and “there” right? She loves teasing you. She does it quite often, doesn't she? Just be careful, you obviously don’t want to deal with a grammar Nazi again now, do you? But what you’ll have to deal with is a lot of drama. I’m not going to lie to you, writers are overly dramatic drama queens, living in their own fantasies, and that’s alright. Isn’t it? You need understand that whenever she’s falling apart, or bursting with joy, or raging with anger, she will write. Words are what she feeds on, stories are what make her, her…reality is merely a nightmare!Yes I'm well aware of the fact that this doesn’t sound sane, but you love a writer, don’t expect this to be sane. Trust me, you’ll be driven to a point of insanity too. Which brings me to my next point… Expectations. They're really not that much. Send her a text message to check up on her, pamper her, shower her with snuggles. They work- I guarantee. Here's the thing about writers, they usually tend to conjure up life long stories in their tiny little minds. Stories that include, impromptu ice-cream trips, cute dates, and long walks on the beach while watching the sun set and the horizon fade from pink to blue. That’s all she wants. Is that really too much to ask? However, you should also know that writers can switch from being hopelessly romantic to being completely misanthropic. There will be times when all she’ll want to do is curl up in her hammock with a good book and her cup of coffee. Those are the days she’ll want to be away from everyone and everything and live in her own little fantasy. Let her. Give her her space, she’s a writer, she needs it. Some days you'll have to hear about people and places you've never know of, she obsesses over fictional characters. Leave her be. It’ll take her time, to snap back into reality. At first it may even take her time to get used to you, and trust you enough to show you this side of her, but don't worry that’s just part and parcel of who she is. IF she does fall for you, and I'm pretty sure she already has (it doesn't take her too long) you'll be the lucky one. She tends to fall in love with the tiniest, most simplest things. Like the way your eyes light up when you talk about some thing you love, or the way you sing to her in your croaky voice, the way you confide in her and the way you crack those stupid senseless jokes. She'll paint you with her words- your freckles, your flaws, and every scar that tattoos your body. To her you are art. She will love you for the way you laugh mid kiss, And admire you when you praise your mother, and be a strong man like your father. She will love your habits, and make them hers. Her lungs will be filled with the smoke that burns yours, Her coffee, dark and bitter just likes yours, And when she sleeps, she’ll sleep for longer hours, with her sheets covering her face, just like you do. From your likes to your dislikes, your family to your friends, every minuscule detail will she embed in her mind. Don't be afraid, she isn’t a stalker, she's just head over heels for you- she’s just a writer, she's bound to explore and find out more. Exploring is essential for a writer, in every sense. When she falls in love with you she will explore you at first, then your body, your skin, the way you taste, your touch...everything; And she will write about it. Yes, be prepared to hear details…intimate details. Don’t be embarrassed, it’s just the way she is. You’ve probably already guessed by now, you’ll be one of her muses too. You may not recognize yourself, but you’ll be there, weaved in some way or another. She may even invent a whole new you, because of course replicating you wouldn't be enough. She will picture the things you could’ve done, and the words you could’ve said, but don’t get me wrong. She’ll always love you for the person you are. Even when times are rough, she’ll stand by your side. When you choose to ignore her, she’ll choose to write about you. She’ll bleed ink, but she dare not show you her work. She's just afraid. They’re a piece of her – like her pouring out her soul and all her emotions into words. It’s very difficult to express yourself and find the right words. Emotions and words go together for a writer. So remember to use your words correctly, say what you mean and mean what you say. The words you say will be her gospel, and walking away from them will be absolutely soul crushing. Honestly if you’re not willing to deal with all of that, I advise you not to fall in love with a writer. And if you’ve already fallen in love with her and are thinking of breaking her heart, good god…you’re in for a lot! Trust me you will be immortal. Be prepared to hear a lot about yourself, because like every other girl she will breakdown and cry, but she will also write. Smudged mascara and ink, crumpled tissues and paper- it's her way of letting go. She will write about you. Relive every moment to remind herself of you in every possible way – the first meeting, the first date, the first kiss, the first fight. Then, the last meeting, the last date, the last kiss, the last fight, and finally the heartbreak. As much as it will break her reminiscing about it, it will help her heal. She is a warrior. Don’t be fooled, she’s not afraid of love or you, she’s afraid of running out of words, and thankfully you’ve given her enough to write about. When you read this I hope you remember it all, I hope you know how much you meant to her. I hope you find yourself in pieces of her work. I hope it takes you back to those days when laying in each other's arms, and being loved by you is what she imagined to have been the best possible thing to have ever happened to her. And I hope you realize, that you don't have that any more, and all you are in that moment is just words. Immortalized forever. Again, you made a mistake. You fell in love with a writer. You fell in love with me. -zps

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thelonelyrainbowguy · 4 years

Text

2010-2019 Recap

2010-2019 has been, uh. A Wild Ride. I've had my highest highs, and my lowest lows, and I've come out on the other side WAY different from the person I was before.

(CW/TW: talk of shootings, suicide, self-harm)

A few bullet points:

-I moved out of my abusive parents' home, and despite job loss and mountains of debt, I have never had to go crawling back and ask to live with them again.

-I (very slowly) came to the realization that I'm a gay-ass bitch, and then a few years later, that I'm agender, and both realizations have helped me take leaps and bounds forward with self-love and mental health.

-I kissed my first (and only, so far) girl in 2017. She ended up dumping me, but kissing her solidified my realization that I'm a gay-ass bitch, because kissing her was wonderful, whereas with the one guy I've kissed, it felt gross, and even though I thought I was straight at the time, I hated it (guess that should've been a clue, LMAO).

-I got my autism diagnosis, which has helped me SO MUCH with not hating myself for being abnormal, and with taking care of myself properly to minimize the bad parts that come along with being autistic. I'm still learning, and lately executive dysfunction has been kicking my ass, but if I compare current me to the me from a couple years ago, I'm so much better and healthier than I could have imagined. (And if you tell me you never would have guessed, no shit, Sherlock, a lot of autistic people kill themselves trying to appear "normal.")

-My writing has improved so much. No, really, even looking at it with an objective and unbiased point of view, the novels I've written over the past couple of years are easily better than a lot of published ones on the market.

-I finally got past (some of) my anxiety about querying literary agents and have started sending query letters. I've got nothing but rejections thus far, but I'm trying to gather up my self-esteem to query more.

-I've had several jobs, a couple good, most bad, and I got my current job, which is the best paying (which isn't saying much) and most fulfilling one I've ever had. Despite circumstances that would have made any sane person quit, multiplied by being autistic and having extreme anxiety, I pressed on through training and have been a fully certified 911 dispatcher for over a year now. While I don't think it's a career I want to keep forever, I'm extremely proud of myself for getting this far, and now I can go basically anywhere and find a dispatch job.

-I went to DC Pride this year, for the third time, and there was a shooter scare, which traumatized me badly, especially since it was already my biggest fear. I ran behind my friends to shield them, just waiting for bullets to tear me apart; it wasn't even something I had to think about. It sucks I had to find out that way, but I'm proud of that selfless aspect I discovered in myself. Before that day, I genuinely wasn't sure whether I'd die for a friend; the answer, it turns out, is yes, absolutely. I'm slowly healing from the trauma, but I still have flashbacks pretty often.

-I got over a years-long self-harm addiction, and haven't cut since 2016. I'll always have the scars, but now when I look at them, it's empowering rather than triggering or shameful; I can let them show without being embarrassed, because they say that I'm a fucking fighter, that I've been through hell and dragged myself out.

-In early 2016, I went through the most suicidal period I've ever had in my life; it was so bad that I couldn't even look at my window or sit on the couch in my living room because the 15-story window/balcony was right there, and I felt like I'd lose control and jump. But I got through it, and I'm here today.

-I deconstructed my harmful religious beliefs and decided I am agnostic, and I'm so much happier for it. I've come to accept and embrace the entire LGBT+ community (it'd be kind of stupid if I didn't, considering more than one of the letters apply to me). I've learned a lot about disabilities and ableism. I'm also constantly working to get rid of my ingrained racism, and further understand the privilege I was born with as a white person, and aim to use it to help people of color.

-I had my first surgery. Well, actually, my first four surgeries. All in July of this year. I'm still recovering and still in pain, but my carpal and cubital tunnel symptoms are all but gone, and now I can crochet, draw, write, whatever I want, without waking up in the middle of the night with panic attacks because the pain is so bad. The recovery is taking a while, but there's a light at the end of the tunnel.

-I've lost a lot of friendships, but I've also met so many wonderful people who have helped to shape me as a person, and I can't imagine life without them.

Here's to a decade full of self-care and self-improvement, full of letting go of toxic people, thinking, and beliefs, and full of wins both big and small. May we never be the same.

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