Raina

RIP Anthony Stewart Head. </3 Every scene he played as Rupert Giles was iconic.

Sherlock fandom

Find the Exit

It is extremely disturbing. He can’t recall the last time he lost himself in here. In his own Mind Palace, no less. How did this happen? And where is the exit sign? The one reading: 221B Baker Street.

He finds many signs on his walk through the corridors but they’re all wrong. They are pointing at the rooms, the nooks, the cabinets, the books, the floorboards; in short, everything. But not the exit to his physical home.

Sherlock is rarely frightened. Not anymore. Not since John moved into his flat. The feeling of fear courses through his body now, though. His claustrophobia – the mania he hasn’t felt in years – has made a dramatic appearance, making his skin crawl uncomfortably.

“I need to find the exit,” he mutters to himself over and over, like a mantra.

Sherlock almost weeps with relief when Mind Palace John magically appears in the hallway outside the library.

“John,” he whispers reverently.

“Fancy meeting you here,” John quips, mirth visible in all his features.

Sherlock wants to kiss him but that’s not allowed. John is his friend, nothing else. He is as heterosexual as Sherlock is homosexual. Not a great match, that.

When Sherlock decides to ask John for the way out, John has vanished. The space he recently occupied still radiates a warm glow.

Inspired by the fabulous @dragonnan's Blood and Romance (included by permission)

*

Too old for this: my first half-thought as I flail and thrash my way back to consciousness. I’m underwater, aching to breathe, but I’ll die if I do; but it isn’t cold enough, I’m not wet, where the hell I hurt all over and something’s wrong, it’s dark where is Sherlock

If I’m not under water, I can breathe; I open my lips a hair and no water floods in, so I take a careful breath and it’s air. Not sweet, God no, tastes like mould and sewage, but definitely air, and shakily I suck it in.

I blink and try to focus but can’t see anything. Where the hell am I, and where is Sherlock? There—a second complete thought, even if it’s just the ragged scraps from before stringing together into sense, that’s got to be a good sign.

Okay. Okay. Stop, where am I. Listen.

In a silence so loud, a darkness so complete, I can hear my racing heartbeat even over my ragged panting—but nothing else, not close by. I can’t breathe through my nose at all. I try to shift to generate some sound, get some idea at least of what kind of surface I’m near or on. Take stock: everything hurts but I can’t tell from what, I can’t gather any sensory data to extrapolate anything from. (Sherlock would say, deduce. I’m not Sherlock. He’d know what to do to get some clarity here; I’m just starting to panic.)

finish reading on AO3

*

A Thousand Words: A picture's proverbially worth a thousand words and often inspires them, though the words may be many more or many fewer, as the Muse decides. Each chapter is a one-shot, inspired (so far) by @kettykika78, @justanobsessedpan, @stephdrawsjohnlock, @bluebellofbakerstreet, @petite-madame, and now dragonnan: more to come.

Thank you to all the artists who do fanworks: you are a  constant inspiration. And to the betas (@copperplatebeech for this ficlet) you are a godsend. And to the readers: we wouldn't be posting our stories without you.

Thanks for reblogging! Let me know whether to tag or untag you.

Happy PrideMonth 🌈

I wish all of you a wonderful start to Pride Month.

I hope this June brings you joy, acceptance and visibility, and lots of colorful moments.

Take care of yourselves, be proud of who you are, and have a beautiful Pride Month

Seeing as we still have one room available, the registration deadline for the European Fic Writers' Retreat, which takes place in Germany 13-16 August, will be extended until 15 June.

Click here for all further info and registration link.

There's another bedroom upstairs!

Please send a chat message if you have any questions!

Tagging some people below the cut, please help signal boost!

Seeing as we still have one room available, the registration deadline for the European Fic Writers' Retreat, which takes place in Germany 13-16 August, will be extended until 15 June.

Click here for all further info and registration link.

There's another bedroom upstairs!

Please send a chat message if you have any questions!

Tagging some people below the cut, please help signal boost!

Like, seriously, women should be educated about their own bodies.

So if you're on the other side of 45 and suddenly everything is twice as difficult, you get more migraines, your blood pressure goes funny, you can't sleep and you feel like your entire psyche is unstable, you might be experiencing perimenopause. My gyn was like,oh, like think of it like reverse puberty, your entire body rearranges itself. I was like, Great, nobody ever told me it can be this bad. My GP didn't even ask me about my period or hormone levels or anything. He just told me I was probably depressed and sent me to a psychiatrist, who also didn't ask about my period or my hormones. If I hadn't experienced something akin to postpartum depression and therefore know what my body does when its hormones are out of whack, I would have had no idea.

Seriously, nobody tells you how much hormones fuck you up as a woman. Nobody prepares you for this.

I've been trying to talk openly about what's fucking me up right now, and I've discovered that it's a lot more common than I thought it was. I feel like every phase of life finds another way to fuck women over. Puberty: have fun with your period as it adjusts itself. Childbirth: prepare for a hormonal rollercoaster. PMS: oh, it can get BAD. Like, BAD. After birth: hormones out of whack for months, maybe longer. Perimenopause: can fuck up everything. Like literally everything. Osteoporosis is also hormonal. Post menopause: supposedly things get better, but they don't have to.

And I feel like we're left pretty alone dealing with all of it. And we know so little about it that we're left wondering why suddenly nothing works anymore. So we flail about and feel terrible about our sudden inability to cope with life, when it's in fact our bodies screwing with us. Again.

The Final Problem of Baz Culpeper, Ch 13

...The Final Chapter!

A candle (💗romance💗); an offer (YES); a party (is it my birthday?) The future begins (with a dance).

It's been such a pleasure to revisit John and Sherlock in this universe, and to have you along for the journey. Thank you for reading, thank you for your comments 💕

Thank you for reblogging! 💗

Chapter 6 - The Impossible Star

Summary: The tension in the kitchen is almost palpable. It's caused by two Frenchmen Mycroft has seen snooping around the neighbourhood. Things are getting serious and Sherlock is about to panic.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @raina-at

@meetinginsamarra @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitch-adler @topsyturvy-turtely @peanitbear

@phoenix27884 @bs2sjh @brandiwein1982 @a-victorian-girl @221beloved

@ninasnakie @7-percent @lhrinhampstead @chriscalledmesweetie @missdeliadilisblog

@salmonsown @oetkb12 @jawnscoffee @gay-ass-bitch @acumberlockedgirl

@willamholmeswatson @whatnext2020 @mydogwatson @redmondcollege @thegildedbee

@ilovegayangels @elizabethhoodstyles @xmengal03 @riversong912 @givemesherbet-blog-blog

@couldbecannibal @2old2b-fangirl @dw91165 @jonkwatson @binx72

@macgyvershe @kholkate @fookincarrotsandpotatoes28 @talkativeanxiousturtle

@twoandahalfdimes @desi-yearning @johnlock-and-tea @llcsecret @jobooksncoffee

@original-welovethebeekeeper @readingwithgwen @gomielka @rosemelodyshah @221biandconfused

@ghostofnuggetspast @quiscustodiet @battledress @xjessicafaithx @peggyhh

@procrastinatorasfuck @writing-is-like-breathing @susanwhynow @debzwez @hot-on-my-watch

@solarmama-plantsareneat @the-cat-writer @futurewr1ter @copperplatebeech

Sherlock fandom

Try Again

Rosie’s tantrum is about to reach epic proportions, and John needs to intervene. Immediately.

“It’s impossible! I will never be able to make it before he gets back!!!”

“Rosamund Watson, you can, and you will.”

“I only have one more chance, Dad! He’ll be here in less than fourteen minutes.”

God, do you even know how like him you are?

John looks fondly at his daughter, but she’s too distracted by her distress to observe it.

“Alright, sweetheart. Put that away for a second and come here.”

“There’s no time, Dad!”

“Yes, there is. Trust me.”

Rosie sighs dramatically, puts down the instrument, and approaches John tentatively. 

“Take my hands.”

Another sigh, but the girl surrenders.

John squeezes the small hands in his own and smiles down at the tense and slightly anxious girl in front of him.

“Inhale as deep as you can. Hold until I say so, then exhale.”

“Is this a doctor procedure?”

Her smile causes her body to visibly relax, and the tension in the room eases.

“Go on, now.”

After a few minutes, John is satisfied, and releases his grip.

“Try again,” he says softly and places a kiss on her forehead.

Chapter 5 - Queens of the Night

Summary: Martha Hudson's favourite place to dine is (obviously) Chez 1895. The staff treats her like royalty and one of them reminds of her of bygone times.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

@totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @raina-at

@meetinginsamarra @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitch-adler @topsyturvy-turtely @peanitbear

@phoenix27884 @bs2sjh @brandiwein1982 @a-victorian-girl @221beloved

@ninasnakie @7-percent @lhrinhampstead @chriscalledmesweetie @missdeliadilisblog

@salmonsown @oetkb12 @jawnscoffee @gay-ass-bitch @acumberlockedgirl

@willamholmeswatson @whatnext2020 @mydogwatson @redmondcollege @thegildedbee

@ilovegayangels @elizabethhoodstyles @xmengal03 @riversong912 @givemesherbet-blog-blog

@couldbecannibal @2old2b-fangirl @dw91165 @jonkwatson @binx72

@macgyvershe @kholkate @fookincarrotsandpotatoes28 @talkativeanxiousturtle

@twoandahalfdimes @desi-yearning @johnlock-and-tea @llcsecret @jobooksncoffee

@original-welovethebeekeeper @readingwithgwen @gomielka @rosemelodyshah @221biandconfused

@ghostofnuggetspast @quiscustodiet @battledress @xjessicafaithx @peggyhh

@procrastinatorasfuck @writing-is-like-breathing @susanwhynow @debzwez @hot-on-my-watch

@solarmama-plantsareneat @the-cat-writer @futurewr1ter @copperplatebeech

Like, seriously, women should be educated about their own bodies.

So if you're on the other side of 45 and suddenly everything is twice as difficult, you get more migraines, your blood pressure goes funny, you can't sleep and you feel like your entire psyche is unstable, you might be experiencing perimenopause. My gyn was like,oh, like think of it like reverse puberty, your entire body rearranges itself. I was like, Great, nobody ever told me it can be this bad. My GP didn't even ask me about my period or hormone levels or anything. He just told me I was probably depressed and sent me to a psychiatrist, who also didn't ask about my period or my hormones. If I hadn't experienced something akin to postpartum depression and therefore know what my body does when its hormones are out of whack, I would have had no idea.

Seriously, nobody tells you how much hormones fuck you up as a woman. Nobody prepares you for this.

I've been trying to talk openly about what's fucking me up right now, and I've discovered that it's a lot more common than I thought it was. I feel like every phase of life finds another way to fuck women over. Puberty: have fun with your period as it adjusts itself. Childbirth: prepare for a hormonal rollercoaster. PMS: oh, it can get BAD. Like, BAD. After birth: hormones out of whack for months, maybe longer. Perimenopause: can fuck up everything. Like literally everything. Osteoporosis is also hormonal. Post menopause: supposedly things get better, but they don't have to.

And I feel like we're left pretty alone dealing with all of it. And we know so little about it that we're left wondering why suddenly nothing works anymore. So we flail about and feel terrible about our sudden inability to cope with life, when it's in fact our bodies screwing with us. Again.

Most of this is mind over matter. You can let it ruin yr day or week or month or (as in my case, decade), or you can just cope with it. Supplements don't help. Walking outside does. Recognising yr body is doing weird stuff you can't really control will also help. Approaching it with curiosity rather than panic or a sense of "how do I fix this?" can help you feel less like you're having a psychotic episode.

Like, seriously, women should be educated about their own bodies.

So if you're on the other side of 45 and suddenly everything is twice as difficult, you get more migraines, your blood pressure goes funny, you can't sleep and you feel like your entire psyche is unstable, you might be experiencing perimenopause. My gyn was like,oh, like think of it like reverse puberty, your entire body rearranges itself. I was like, Great, nobody ever told me it can be this bad. My GP didn't even ask me about my period or hormone levels or anything. He just told me I was probably depressed and sent me to a psychiatrist, who also didn't ask about my period or my hormones. If I hadn't experienced something akin to postpartum depression and therefore know what my body does when its hormones are out of whack, I would have had no idea.

Seriously, nobody tells you how much hormones fuck you up as a woman. Nobody prepares you for this.

I've been trying to talk openly about what's fucking me up right now, and I've discovered that it's a lot more common than I thought it was. I feel like every phase of life finds another way to fuck women over. Puberty: have fun with your period as it adjusts itself. Childbirth: prepare for a hormonal rollercoaster. PMS: oh, it can get BAD. Like, BAD. After birth: hormones out of whack for months, maybe longer. Perimenopause: can fuck up everything. Like literally everything. Osteoporosis is also hormonal. Post menopause: supposedly things get better, but they don't have to.

And I feel like we're left pretty alone dealing with all of it. And we know so little about it that we're left wondering why suddenly nothing works anymore. So we flail about and feel terrible about our sudden inability to cope with life, when it's in fact our bodies screwing with us. Again.