the place where it rained

and i don't necessarily believe any of this i'm just saying words recreationally

in a way john watson is a fantasy (what if you had this brilliant enigmatic friend and what if he liked you in particular and what if he offered you the excitement of youth and adventures and a way out of boring society life and all without having to actually give up your status as a gentleman so you could have the best of both worlds) and in a way sherlock holmes is a fantasy (what if someone never got tired of you despite your various strange habits and mood swings and instead of simply tolerating you they genuinely liked you and what if you didn’t have to live alone forever and what if you never had to give up doing the things you love) and of course there’s the most fantastical part of it all (what if you could afford london housing prices)

but babe you love being chained to the radiator

i like when fiction treats love as a more complicated force and not something that is inherently pure, redemptive, or salvific. portray it as flawed and complex as any other human impulse. give me love as prejudice, love as possessive stasis, love as addiction, love as blindness, etc.

about 90% of fanfiction takes place in a utopia where men are thoughtful and unsure of their place in the world