#// you were warned

[grilledcheeseandguavajelly]

Me and the girls walking down the witches’ road (plural possessive) with our shoes off

[raina-at]

Journey

Warning: You guys, this one HURTS. Seriously. Trigger warning for death, grief, sadness.

Proceed at your own risk. And don't yell at me afterwards if you proceeded anyway and this hurt you. You were warned.

----

There’s a bit of dirt on her dress. If she had to guess, she’d say it’s probably Jo’s fault. But she’s Sherlock Holmes’ daughter, so she doesn’t guess. She deduces.

She wets her finger, picks up a crumb.

Rice cake. Raspberry flavour. Jo’s favourite.

She brushes it off. Then she fixes her hair. Checks her shoes.

Anything to delay. Anything to put off this particular journey for a few more seconds.

She meets her own eyes in the mirror. “Come on, Watson,” she whispers. “You can do this. You have to do this. Remember your promise.”

Look out for him, he’d said to her. Before he couldn’t speak anymore. Look out for each other. 

Fuck, she’s crying already. 

No. She bites the inside of her cheek and keeps the tears in. 

She had forty years of parenting. Now she needs to step up. She needs to be strong. 

She nods at herself one last time in the mirror, then goes down the corridor to the bedroom door. She knocks, just once. “Are you ready?”

The silence that greets her is ever so slightly sarcastic.

Stupid question, she chides herself. “Let me rephrase. Are you dressed?”

He opens the door. Of course he’s immaculate. The black suit fits him perfectly, and even though age has somewhat diminished his ramrod straightness, he still looks distinguished and elegant without much effort. His face is a study of outward stoicism, and if Rosie hadn’t known him her entire life, she wouldn’t have noticed how much of a strain it is for him to take even a single step.

This is hell for her. She can’t even imagine what it’s like for him.

But she was raised by two British men of a certain age, and public displays of emotion make her as viscerally uncomfortable as it does them, therefore she knows how important it is to him to keep his composure in public.

They did a lot of crying together when it happened. Though quite honestly, it was a relief when it was finally over. The weeks and months prior were pure hell, for all of them. Dad was always a dignified man whose autonomy was important to him. When he refused further treatment, she supported him, and so did Paps. 

It’s the circle of life, she knows this. They help you into this world, you help them out of it. You travel together for a time, and then you have to let them go.  And it’s her duty to accompany him on this last leg of his journey. 

But she has a more important responsibility. 

She holds out her hand, and Paps takes it. They help each other into their coats. Paps’ coat is unchanged, and she wonders what he paid for this one. Every time one of his coats gives out, he has one made. With the same red embroidery around the buttonhole.

“Where’s Jo?” Paps asks, the first words he said all morning. 

“Mark’s taking her. They’re meeting us there.” 

He nods in acknowledgement. 

They walk outside. It’s incongruously sunny. It’s cold, and windy, and she’s glad for her coat. 

Should it be sunny, on a day like this?

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun, she thinks. 

But no. The hard part is that life goes on. That nothing stops even for a second, just because your heart is ashes. Dinner, errands, bedtime stories, maths tests, patients, laundry, paperwork, bills. 

Ironically it makes it easier, for her. That she has something to do. That she has somewhere to go. That she’s not in the home they shared alone, staring at the walls, remembering.

“Paps,” she says, turning around, leaning against the car. “There’s something…” she takes a breath. “I wanted to ask you something.”

He makes a gesture for her to continue, but his eyes are on the horizon, and she knows he’s far away, locked somewhere in his mind palace to get through the day.

“Admin is putting a lot of pressure on me to take more hours. Department can’t afford another hire, they need shifts covered, et cetera. And we need the money. But it means I’d have twelve-hour shifts again, and Mark’s rarely home before six. Jo comes home from school at four. That’s two hours I don’t know how to cover.”

He looks at her, uncomprehending. You need to be more clear, she reminds herself. He’s not at his best today. “221A is empty. I thought, maybe…” she trails off, making a ‘you fill in the gaps’ kind of gesture. Then she takes a deep breath and fills in the gaps herself. “I thought you might want to come home?”

He doesn’t say anything for a few moments. He’s watching the horizon with a far away expression. Then he looks at her and gives her a slight smile. “I play the violin at three in the morning. And I sometimes don’t talk for days. Would that bother you?”

“I lived with you for twenty-four years, Paps. I think I’ll be fine,” Rosie says dryly, but she’s biting her cheek to keep the tears in again, because she knows what he’s thinking.

Full circle. 

He nods at her, just once. “I noticed little Watson’s maths needs some polishing,” he says, with a trace of his old self shining through. “And quite frankly, her chess skills are appalling.”

“I expect you to turn her into a grand master by the time she’s twelve,” Rosie says, and discovers that it’s, after all, possible to smile.

They both stand in the sun for a second, letting the small glimmer of joy warm them. 

Then Paps sighs. “It’s time, isn’t it.”

Rosie nods, and this time, she doesn’t check her tears. 

“Should I drive?” Paps asks, gently.

She just gives him a look, and he chuckles. “Fair enough.” He nods at the car, then puts a hand on her shoulder. “Into battle, Watson.”

She nods. Wipes her tears. Takes his hand. “Into battle, Holmes.”

-------

Rosie is quoting a line from Funeral Blues by WH Auden.

I'm not going to apologise for making you sad. I warned you. Remember that before you yell at me in the comments.

May is almost over, you guys. How did that happen?!

Tags under the cut as always, please notfiy me if you want to be taggeed or untagged.

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jrow @peanitbear @jolieblack @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @friday411 @givemesherbet-blog-blog @weeesi @thalialunacy @thegildedbee @dapetty @salmonsown

[quinloki]

....

So, I'm going to start this off with - Fuck My Brain, because this traitorous little cunt just came up with the most horrifically heart wrenching thing I think I've ever thought and I have no excuse for it.

But

So

What if Sabo had been rescued by Garp? (Or if you don't think Garp was that deep into Marine ideology, pick a different marine).

But he's still got no memory, and now he's being raised as a marine.

Who ends up a Marineford.

Who remembers who he was-

-after beheading Ace.

...

So he's standing there, blood everywhere, eyes locked with Luffy's, as realization sinks into both of them. Luffy realizes it's Sabo, Sabo realizes it's Luffy, and what he just did.

This absolutely cruel thought was brought to you by thinking how my heart breaks for Sabo if I think about things too much and then I saw art of him in what looked like a Marine Captain uniform. And my ruthless brain just went from there.

[dancingwiththefae]

I’ve only known Halsin a hot minute but I feel like he would lie with me in a field weave flowers through my hair and then destroy my pussy

[respectthepetty]

All's I know is Playboyy drops next month, and I will be watching it partially for the plot, but mainly for the depiction of sex.

A lot of sex.

For money.

For pleasure.

For the mere sake of having it.

"The series about relationships of 'human' through various definitions of sex . . . the series about relationships that presents 'sex' EXPLICITLY" 18+

We have a whole ass man with a whole ass tattoo that reads "Play With Me" so . . .

Treat this like an AO3 tag and act accordingly instead of making that damn Pikachu face all season.

Amen.

[animatronic-assistant]

No, they absolutely deserve nothing. *pops a few of the bloodbags and disappears*

She takes her kitchen knife and stabs you through the hand before you can disappear. She is not playing.

[voices-of-favor]

If you are reading this first, theres Night Lords trilogy spoilers ahead, so make sure to scroll faster than you can read if you havent seen it yet

Anyway

Somehow, the evil murder machines are breaking my heart

Bruh, respectfully

[omorialone]

You cannot stop the pats

[infinitegeli]

I’m going in. like to see me dead in the woods

[talesfromcordonia]

The Billionaire's Baby is over

I'm going to be rude AF and angry as hell under the cut

Fuck this book. Fuck the people that wrote this book and the fucking trash this book is. Fuck every person at PB that this book went through to get a release.

It makes me so angry, there is NOTHING redeeming about this book. It's a dumpster fire that pushed out the carbon that destroyed the human race.

FUCK THIS BOOK, SEND IT TO HELL.

[decaflondonfog]

the reason why jackie/shauna is so bloody compelling is that it’s built on the same foundations of unwavering love and devotion as every other homoerotic teenage friendship

shauna’s entire existence is wrapped in jackie’s like:

i want you. i want what you have. i want you. i don’t know who i am without you. i want you. i wish my life was more like yours. i want you. your hair is so pretty— can i touch it? i want you. i don’t let anyone else dictate what i do but i have shaped myself entirely around you. i want you. why can’t i be more like you? i want you. i wish i was you. i want you. i wish we were one person. i want you. i don’t want you to be happy unless i’m the reason why. i want you. why can’t we share everything? i want you. i don’t know where you end and i begin. i want you. i’m not supposed to. i want you. you’re my best friend. i want you. i know you never will. i want you. i’ll never admit that the you in my head is better than the real you. i want you. i don’t want to share you. i want you. i will have you in every way i can. i want you. it’s my fault. i want you. it should have been me. i want you. i will have you. i want you. i can’t let go. i want you. i will sink my teeth into your skin. i want you. you will always be a part of me. i want you. i must be the one to have the first bite. i want you. i love you. i want you. i love you. i want you. i love you.

[geekalogian]

How am I supposed to be normal about this

[candont]

It's Friday somewhere

[morvith]

[Spoilers for The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the kingdom. Also, Bad idea! Angst! Extreme angst! Tw: Death! Read at your own risk!]

I am really craving a fanfic where...

...Zelda remains a dragon forever.

Imagine Link visiting her, and growing old. (She recognized him by scent, sees him change - his hair turns grey, his face wrinkles, his hands are no longer as strong as they used to be - but she does not realise what it means.)

And then one day he does not come any more. (Does he climb a mountain for the last time, just so he can see her fly overhead? Is she the last thing he sees?)

And then the years pass, and he comes back. He always comes back. (He is different every time, even his scent is different, but it's always him.)

The one constant in an ever changing word.

[Yes, I am aware that Zelda remaining a dragon forever and ever would massively screw up the reincarnation cycle and Hyrule because hereditary powers and who the Hell is going to seal the Calamity now?!?!

Maybe that's why Link comes back so many times...]

[pianokantzart]

🎃🍬🍭🍫

@anartistwhowrites Welcome to my domain. WOE: ICEBERG LETTUCE LASAGNA BE APON THEE

[justcallmealt]

... So. There was a thing on twi. Now you're cursed to see this