#comicbook-killer

Cosima was standing inside of a Jo-Ann Fabrics, looking this way and that. In one hand, she was holding a coupon Alison had given her for 60% off her custom framing order, and in the other a print inside of an envelope from Kinkos. She looked past bolts and bolts of fabric, reams of trim, the cutting counter and the sewing machine display until finally, tucked into the back corner with furniture foam and batting she found the framing counter. It was abandoned, and Cosima wouldn't have been surprised if a tumbleweed of pillow fluff came rolling by. She rang the bell and waited.

She wasn't surprised that Alison had coupons for a place like this, let alone didn't visit every day. She'd seen that craft room, she was aware of the need for sewing speed. Setting the paper down, she gingerly pulled the print out of the envelope and held it up to the florescent light. She hoped they could accomodate her specific request. It was a gift, and one that had to make it by a specific date. Yet, looking around, it didn't seem they'd be able to. After all, these frames were run-of-the-mill at best. Sherlock deserved better. 

She'd been thinking about him a good deal lately, when her mind wasn't on work or the Clone Club. He would slip in and out of her thoughts, the smallest things bringing to recall the sound of his voice, or the scent of his aftershave. The other day, a piano track on her Spotify shuffle made her daydream about his fingers. 

Then it hit her. Cosima was infatuated with Sherlock Holmes. No matter how she tried to justify it otherwise, she'd quietly and with little alacrity, taken him into her heart and let him stay there. Hell, the whole reason she was standing where she was was the need to make the perfect Valentine's present. Smiling her herself, she thumped the cupped palm of her hand into her forehead.

"Eureka moment." she said out-loud. Before anyone could get to the back counter, she scooped up her coupon and moved away. Maybe she could call in a favor to the art kids. But before that, Cosima pick up a few spools of colorful needlepoint thread to wrap around a few of her dreads. She felt like being a little fancy for the upcoming holiday. And she had more than than just the one coupon; Thank you, Alison.

Sherlock would receive, upon the fated day, a present wrapped and tied off with a bit of colorful thread. Inside, a light box with a picture of his sequenced genome modge podged onto the surface, which would be illuminated from behind once plugged in. Also inside the box, a note.

" SH,

I hope my crazy science and yours will collide again someday soon. Until then, please accept this gift of your illuminated DNA. I thought it would make a radical night light.

Sincerely,

ooc: Feel better :(

Bro i have cologne based off this thing

it is the best thing

Send me a ⊱♥⊰ for my Muse's reaction to yours hugging them without warning!

Aaaand thunk.

Well, that was unexpected.

      There was something terrifyingly exciting about the day ahead of Pedro Abreu. He wasn't usually so suspectible to anxiety or nervousness, but what else could someone expect from the up-and-coming writer? Today was the day he would get to meet with a colourist and designer, to work on cover art for his new book. To think he'd ever see this day would be an understatement. Pedro was so humble about his talent, so generous about the idea of having it published sooner or later. This was an opportunity he'd always wanted, but never really saw coming, if he were being honest.

      You see, Pedro didn't grow up in America. He didn't receive the encouragement and push that American children did for their dreams and aspirations. As a Mexican born citizen, the only goal his mother depicted for him was to own his farm- maybe even his own band if he really wanted that life. So when he was given American citizenship at twenty-one, only then did his mother really believe in his dreams. Pedro would go to America, and live the life he truly hoped for. No matter how far they were, his mother was proud and supportive all the way.

      And as he sat in this designer's office, currently on the phone with the joyful woman, Pedro was happily eager to settle her down and explain the details. "It's just a meeting, mama. I'm only going to see if they'll help me with my cover art. The book is already done, okay? Calmate, por favor." Pedro said to his mother quietly. Of course he, himself, had been freaking out the entire way to the office, but that was none of her business, not one bit. She was all the way in Mexico, what she didn't know would not hurt her. And as the other to the office, he quickly rushed off the phone.

      "Mira, mama, yo tengo que ir..." He told the woman hesitantly, noticing the gentleman enter the room. "Adios." Quickly ending the call, Pedro shoved the phone back into his pocket and stood up to greet the designer he was meeting with. "Maxwell?" He asked eagerly as he began walking over. Pedro then extended his hand toward the attractive and smiled. "It's really good to meet you actually. I can't wait to discuss this project with you." He finished, smiling happily.

☮: How they keep calm. 

Draco’s not good at keeping calm. If he’s angry, people will be able to tell that he’s friggin’ angry. Panic? Panic, he’s good at keeping down.

Jensen’s the opposite. He’s cold, calm anger and a bundle of nerves. He calms down by humming to himself, or chewing on things, or just straight up removing himself from the situation.