#anything for you sher

[kikorenart]

*pounds fists on table*

MORE OLD SILKI SOFTNESS!!! Maybe the morning after cuddles? 🥺🙏

-Sher

First light

“You��re still here...”

“Apparently so. It’s rather difficult to leave quietly when someone refuses to let you go even while asleep.”

“Hm. Am I meant to apologise for that?”

“Well I am actually running late for an appointment…”

“By coincidence, as am I.”

“Shall I let you go then?”

“Don’t even think about it.”

[edd-ska]

Me when I find THE MOST sexiest fanart of Matt ever!

Let me tell y’all he’s the most handsomest man I’ve ever laid eyes on

I don’t Care if he’s fictional he’s the most SEXIEST character I’ve ever fallen in love with!

No I’m not a simp and don’t call me one I’m looking at you Ryan

[shanastoryteller]

Merry bday! A continuation of Enola Holmes marrying the viscount of Basilweather would be really cool 😀

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

She wrinkles her nose when Tewksbury passes over her cup of tea with two sugars, unstirred, and she knows.

She puts down the cup too quickly, blood pounding in her ears, and Tewksbury frowns, reaching for her hand. "Enola?"

"Got to go," she says, pushing herself to standing, almost just leaves him sitting there, hand outstretched, but he's her husband and she loves him, so she darts over to smack a kiss on his lips before she's running for the door.

"Enola!" he calls out again, but now he sounds less worried and more exasperated, which is better, which is good. There's nothing for him to worry about.

She wants her mother, who's banned from London and is causing political unrest in Southern France currently, or Edith, who's doing something clever and illegal in Scotland. She'd take Victoria, but Mycroft will be there, and he's the last person she wants to see right now. Sherlock, while beloved, is useless, but his boy is a doctor.

She drops in at 221B Baker Street, picking the lock like always, and is relieved that Sherlock is still asleep and decides not to have any opinions on the various bones scattered about the kitchen table. She assumes there's a reasonable explanation for them.

"Oh, Enola!" John grins and shoves some femurs to the side to make space at the table. "Here, join me, would you like some oatmeal? Are you looking for your brother? I can wake him-"

"I'm pregnant," she blurts out, then bites her bottom lip.

John blinks once, then twice, then says with a gentleness that had made her like him in the first place - because Sherlock wanted to be gentle, but was quite bad at it, so someone had to teach him - "This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

Wanted seems like not the correct word, although of course it is, because she and Tewksbury had been, not trying, but not-not trying, which probably amounted to the same thing, considering how often they - well.

"I can fix it," he says, voice low and serious, "if it's something that needs to be fixed."

Enola lets out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "No. No, it doesn't need to be fixed."

She loves that he offered. She loves John, more her brother than Mycroft will ever be, sometimes even more her brother than Sherlock is. If nothing else, her brothers had picked their partners well. Victoria and John are a delight.

John is the functional one between them, explosions and skeletons notwithstanding. John is the one that coaxed her brother into a proper relationship and John is the one that knew they were like parents to all the Irregulars and John isn't normal but he grew up normal.

"Are you worried something's wrong?" he asks. "I can look you over."

"No," she says, although, "I mean, yes, that'd be nice because Tewksbury will go spare, but no, I'm not worried anything's wrong."

He leans back in his chair, looking her over, and after almost ten years of dealing with her and Sherlock and even occasionally Mycroft he can read them almost as well as they can read everyone else.

"It's alright to be scared," he says finally. "Lots of women are when they find out, even when it's wanted, even when the baby's healthy."

"I'm not scared," she says, but for the first time her words feel like a lie. "I shouldn't be scared. What do I have to be scared of?"

She wishes her mother was here.

Will her children miss her like this too?

Sometimes she misses her mother even when she's right in front of her, and if nothing else, she's her mother's daughter.

John gets to his feet, stand in front of her, and opens his arms. She looks away even as she steps forward, like if she doesn't look at him when she does it then it doesn't count as weakness.

His arms close around her. He smells like chai and antiseptic and it's only years of association that make the combination comforting. "I can't wait to be an uncle."

He'll be an uncle. Sherlock will be an uncle. Even Mycroft, and Victoria will be delighted to be an aunt, and to raise her children with Enola's. Of course there's her mother-in-law, and Tewksbury's uncle, who have been angling for her to have a child from the day they married.

There's Tewksbury, who loves her, who isn't going to die on her or leave her if either of them have anything to say about it, who isn't going to leave her to raise their children the way her mother raised her.

Alone.

She's been saying she wasn't going to do this alone from the beginning, but standing here in Sherlock's kitchen, with John holding her steady, she really believes it.

[saraakpotter]

She is my girlfriend(BBC Sherlock x reader)

summery: 3 times Sherlock lied about being your boyfriend and the time he made it real warnings: i think none but there are spoilers on the show if you haven't watched it yet genre: fluff p.s: i added some scenes and changed some dialogues in some parts.

number one: during 'the blind banker'

you were a detective. you went on cases with Sherlock and John. now you had to go into Eddie Van Coon's apartment.

"they are new to the apartment aren't they?" you said.

Sherlock smirked: "yes, they are"

"how are you so sure?" John asked

Sherlock points at the name on the doorbell.

"maybe they changed it." John said.

"no one would do that" you said and Sherlock rang.

"hello?" a woman's voice said some moments later

"ummm, hello miss, we are your downstairs neighbors. i don't know if you know us." Sherlock said

"uh, umm, no. we are new" the woman said.

"well, me and my girlfriend forgot our key's in our apartment" Sherlock said wrapping one arm around you and you rose an eyebrow but quickly played along.

"oh, do you want me to open the door for you?" the woman asked

"yeah, ummm, could we come from your balcony?" Sherlock asked.

"the balcony?!" the woman said surprised and Sherlock nodded.

after she left you came out of his arms.

"your girlfriend?" you asked with a raised eyebrow and John chuckled.

"oh, please. it had to be believable." he said.

"uh-huh" you said

number 2: during 'a scandal in Belgravia'

"punch me in the face" Sherlock said

"punch you?" John said

"yes, punch me in the face. didn't you hear me?"

"i always hear 'punch me in the face' when you talk but it's usually subtext" John says

"yeah" you agreed and then, without another word you punched Sherlock in the face.

"i always wanted to do that" you joke

"ouch" Sherlock says "ok..." he starts but gets cut of by another punch by John.

"you are right! i think i did too" John says chuckling making Sherlock roll his eyes.

after forcing Kate, Irene's assistant to open the door you entered the house.

"who is the beautiful lady?" Kate asked with a fake smile

"oh, i..." you started but Sherlock cut you off

"she is my girlfriend" he says

"oh" Kate's fake smile fades and she walks to the room asking you to follow.

"i literally just punched you in the face" you whispered

"i asked you to" he says and you tried to hide your smile

number three: during 'the hounds of Baskerville'(i added this scene)

"hi" Sherlock says sitting next to a random costumer at the bar.

"hello, what's the problem?" the man said

"well, me and my girlfriend are here for vacation and we heard whispers about a huge dog in this town. in the woods." he says

"we made a bet. i said there is no such a thing and he disagrees" you played along

"so, you are here more often right? we wanted to know which one of us will win" Sherlock said placing a hand around your shoulders to make it look more realistic.

"oh, oh, this is way more than a dog. it's a monster. you should believe in it." the man says and then he turns to look at you "of course i don't want to scare a pretty woman like you"

you rolled your eyes and Sherlock glared at him and left before he could finish.

"ok, thank you for your help." he says trying to act unbothered.

"wow, you don't have to be so overprotective" the man say making you smirk and Sherlock roll his eyes.

number four: the real confession

"y\n?" Sherlock says walking to the room.

"yes?"

"i wanted to ask you something" he takes a deep breath.

"ok, what is it?"

"will you....can you....oh god!"

"Sher, just say it. its okay."

"ummm.....willyoubemygirlfriend"

"i'm sorry?" you raise an eyebrow

"oh god" he takes another deep breath "look, i'm not usually this nervous about anything but this really means to me and it has been on my mind for months....will you, be my girlfriend?" he finally says

"what?" you chuckle making him look more worried than he already is "you were nervous to ask me to act like your girlfriend? i have done that a lot of time. i'm actually starting to think it is real" you joke.

"what is it this time? a serial killer or another guy with mental health issues? maybe another naked woman?" you continue

"no....i....i mean be my actual girlfriend" he corrects

"what?" now you were really confused

"you see, all this time, when i acted like you were my girlfriend or acted jealous, it was because i liked the thought of that."

he waited for you to answer but when you didn't he continued.

"will you?" he said "be my girlfriend"

"this isn't a test to see how sentimental i am?" you asked half-jokingly

Sherlock chuckled "no" he said.

"then yes, Sherlock Holmes. yes, i will be your girlfriend"

[englishsub]

book rec by me

so you want to get back into reading books but have no idea where to start and disdain booktok (if you get me started on this however i will become an unskippable cutscene so that's for another day). understandable. there is so much out there and it is all so overwhelming and you don't even know what you like now that you've been a decade out of the game. again, understandable. it does not have to be scary. i will help you. below i have created some categories that can get you started.

i want to read Literature

literary fiction, with crossover from historical fiction and magical realism

PEACH BLOSSOM SPRING by melissa fu

THE VASTER WILDS by lauren groff

THE FAMILY CHAO by lan samantha chang

OUTER DARK by cormac mccarthy

SEVERANCE by ling ma

LIGHT FROM UNCOMMON STARS by ryka aoki

IDENTITTI by mithu m. sanyal

PIRANESI by susanna clarke

i want to read sci-fi/fantasy that won't break my brain

sci-fi and fantasy that is gentler on the brain cells. easier to grasp magic systems with multiple but not an overwhelming number of overlapping plotlines

EMILY WILDE'S ENCYCLOPAEDIA OF FAERIES by heather fawcett

KINGS OF THE WYLD by nicholas eames

THE JASMINE THRONE by tasha suri

THE CITY OF BRASS by s.a. chakraborty

A RIVER ENCHANTED by rebecca ross

JUNIPER AND THORN by ava reid

BLACK SUN by rebecca roanhorse

THE FINAL STRIFE by saara el-arifi

THE BONE SHARD DAUGHTER by andrea stewart

i want to read sci-fi/fantasy that forces me to lock the fuck in

i would not recommend picking these up as your first foray back into books after many years of not reading recreationally, but i'm not your mom.

THE SPEAR CUTS THROUGH WATER by simon jimenez

JADE CITY by fonda lee

THE FIFTH SEASON by n.k. jemisin

THE RAGE OF DRAGONS by evan winter

A MEMORY CALLED EMPIRE by arkady martine

GIDEON THE NINTH by tamsyn muir

THE ART OF PROPHECY by wesley chu

THE GRACE OF KINGS by ken liu

horrify me!

there is far more to the horror literary canon than stephen king and dean koontz, i promise. consider looking up warnings for these.

TENDER IS THE FLESH by agustina bazterrica

THE RUINS by scott smith

CONFESSIONS by kanae minato

EPISODE THIRTEEN by craig dilouie

REPRIEVE by james han mattson

MARY by nat cassidy

DEAD SILENCE by s.a. barnes

AUDITION by ryu murakami

THE SALT GROWS HEAVY by cassandra khaw

don't care, i want romance

some of these feature crossover genres, like fantasy and horror.

VAMPIRES OF EL NORTE by isabel cañas

DAUGHTER OF THE MOON GODDESS by sue lynn tan

SEVEN DAYS IN JUNE by tia williams

HAPPY PLACE by emily henry

ONE DARK WINDOW by rachel gillig

i want QUEER romance

again, a mix of historical, fantasy, and contemporary crossover genres.

WE COULD BE SO GOOD by cat sebastian

IN MEMORIAM by alice winn

MOST ARDENTLY by gabe cole novoa

A STRANGE AND STUBBORN ENDURANCE by foz meadows

A MARVELLOUS LIGHT by freya marske

THE EMPEROR AND THE ENDLESS PALACE by justinian huang

SPELL BOUND by f.t. lukens

SORRY, BRO by taleen voskuni

ONE LAST STOP by casey mcquiston

DELILAH GREEN DOESN'T CARE by ashley herring blake

i haven't felt anything since i read percy jackson/the hunger games in middle school/high school

adventure is still out there.

SCYTHE by neil shusterman

WE HUNT THE FLAME by hafsah faizal

SIX OF CROWS by leigh bardugo

GEARBREAKERS by zoe hana mikuta

i'll read anything that's not straight or white

many books in the above categories fit this, but here's even more, across a variety of genres.

LAST NIGHT AT THE TELEGRAPH CLUB by malinda lo

BABEL by r.f. kuang

WHEN THE RECKONING COMES by latanya mcqueen

THE UNBROKEN by c.l. clark

IF YOU'LL HAVE ME (graphic novel) by eunnie

LEGEND OF THE WHITE SNAKE by sher lee

THIS IS HOW YOU LOSE THE TIME WAR by amal el-mohtar and max gladstone

SHE WHO BECAME THE SUN by shelley parker-chan

"all ya books suck"

like any other genre or book age group, there are duds and there are standouts. ya is not special in this regard. try some of these!

DIVINE RIVALS by rebecca ross

STRIKE THE ZITHER by joan he

THE RED PALACE by june hur

A STUDY IN DROWNING by ava reid

EMPIRE OF SAND by tasha suri

LEGENDBORN by tracy deonn

i check out and read a lot of these books for free via my local library by using the libby app (you can even add your friends' library cards to gain access to libraries in places you don't live). when i'm feeling like reading via audiobook, i use libro fm!

look, no one HAS TO read diversely. no one is going to be reverse fahrenheit 451'd and locked in a room with no fanfic and only books and not let out until they work their way through the entire literary canon. but reading, and reading widely, and reading diversely, is what teaches people to form their own opinions and question the things they are told. it's why they hang up stuff like "READ READ READ!!" in grade school classrooms.

we live under systems that increasingly benefit from going unquestioned. no, of course reading ASSASSIN'S APPRENTICE by robin hobb is not going to dismantle these systems tomorrow, nor probably even in our lifetimes. but doing it will help set up a world capable of doing it in the future. and until further notice, we are all part of this wretched world. might as well read a good story while we're here.

anyway, i'm reading THE WEST PASSAGE by jared pechaček and the new cmq book this week.

[bumblesimagines]

Love Quinn

maybe we could try going on a proper date this time.

by the time i woke up, you were gone.

i didn't have time to get involved in anyone.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical You warnings, mentions of the murders of Delilah and James, mentions of grief over spouse's death, mentions of wanting to cheat/have an affair

"Oh, Love!" 

The automatic deep inhale the brunette had to do only made her rethink her choice to move to Madre Linda. She thought a quaint small town with beautiful suburbs and far from the mess left behind in LA would help her settle into her new life as a mother and wife. If only the real estate agent had mentioned the irritating vipers itching to drain the life out of anyone who stepped foot inside the town.

Plastering on her most genuine-looking fake smile, she spun around to face Sherry and her minions. "Hey! How are you?" She asked, her voice going higher in pitch as she leaned in to hug Sherry and each of her equally fake friends. They all smiled back at her, their smiles full of feigned glee and eyes eager to find anything amiss. 

"We're doing amazing now that our favorite florist is back in town," Sherry revealed, her arms looping around Love's and pulling her along. The giggles and whispers exchanged by the other girls, along with their big coy smiles, told Love Madre Linda's florist was either the most miserable man around or the happiest. 

"So, The Lotus is finally open for business?" Love questioned, her memory flickering back to all the times she passed by the prettily decorated flower shop in town where the sign on the window always remained flipped on 'closed'. Every once in a while, she'd catch an elderly woman shuffling into the shop and spraying some of the plants with water, but the only time Love managed to catch her for a chat, she'd only been told the shop was closed until the owner returned from out of state.

Sherry nodded eagerly, her soft pink-tinted lips stretching out into what Love could only describe as a flirtatious smile. "(Y/N)! Ugh, my god, you missed so much, sweetheart!" 

Immediately, Love's eyes darted forward, her desire to rush back into Joe's arms and complain about their neighbors zapping out of her when she laid eyes on a man she'd been searching for since James's death. She'd searched for him high and low, visiting each social media site she could think of in desperate search of any information, but of course, no first name was ever truly unique. Her friends in LA had told her the obsession was unhealthy, something caused by her grief that forced her to latch onto him; they never truly did learn of the real her.

The memories remained vivid in her mind but how could they not when it was all she ever thought about? Joe had been a lovely distraction, a revelation that others who loved as deeply as she did exist, but she often let her mind wander onto the man who'd strolled into Anavrin with a quiet demeanor and an aura of mystery. She'd been deep in her grief and guilt over James's death when he appeared in the doorway, the light of the setting sun casting an angelic halo over him that drew her eyes to him instantaneously. She'd been a goner the second their eyes met and while she'd been able to enjoy his presence the following days, he disappeared the day after she finally learned how his lips tasted and his hands felt on exposed skin.

"I'm sure I did, Sher." (Y/N) released a quiet sigh heavy with exhaustion and turned his back to the snack table to face them. He looked over each of the women present with lips pulled into a faint polite smile until they locked eyes, and Love felt that rush go through her veins. She'd felt it with Joe once in LA but it'd simmered down immensely after Delilah's death and Henry's birth. 

"This is Love Quinn-Goldberg," Sherry lightly squeezed her arm. "She and her husband, Joe, moved in while she was expecting their adorable little son, Henry. Love, this is (Y/N) (L/N), our resident florist. He can be a little grumpy at first but trust me, he's a gem once he warms up to you."

From the way (Y/N) squinted his eyes slightly and pursed his lips, Love assumed Sherry certainly hadn't reached that point yet. 

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Quinn-Goldberg," He stuck his hand out, the familiar warmth of his touch surrounding her when they shook hands; a warmth she'd once felt when his hands had touched her skin, palms pressing against her and fingers gripping firmly yet gently enough to avoid leaving marks. "You can pop by The Lotus any time and I'd be happy to help with whatever you need."

"Thank you," Love spoke softly. "A-And Love is fine. Quinn-Goldberg can be a mouthful." 

"Well-"

"Actually," Love interrupted Sherry swiftly, wriggling her arm free and stepping forward, the subtle smell of his cologne hitting her like a truck. "I, uhm.." She swallowed thickly. "A friend of mine is hosting an event and she's been asking if I knew anyone who could help with floral decorations. Would you mind if I asked you some questions so I can relay back to her?" 

(Y/N) stared at her in silence, glancing away to spare the other women the smallest bit of attention before nodding. "Yeah, sure, come this way."

His hand landed on her midback, high enough to appear polite but the touch still sent a shiver down her spine. Her lips pressed tightly together in hopes of fighting back the urge to smile, her eyes angled toward the ground as they walked out of the backyard and into a more quiet spot within the house. She hardly knew the hosts of the party but they'd been kind enough to send her and Joe an invitation to their tenth wedding anniversary so she felt inclined to accept, and boy was she glad she had.

Sparing a glance over her shoulder and raking her fingers through her hair a few times to tame the strands that'd gone rogue, Love subtly took in a deep breath and faced him in the hallway, her back pressing to the wall. She drank him in for the first time in a long time and felt a nostalgia and feeling of familiarity she dearly missed in the chaos of a new home and new faces. 

"I never thought I'd see you again after.. after everything that happened. I-I thought we'd had a good time together and then by the time I woke up, you were gone. I hoped you'd show up again but you never did." Love's brows furrowed slightly. "What happened?"

"It's.. complicated, I guess. I went to LA to escape this nightmare of a place and figure out what I wanted to make of my life. I didn't have time to get involved with anyone, not when I barely knew what do to with myself." (Y/N) sighed heavily, his hands slipping into the pockets of his coat and his head tilting back to gaze over the ceiling. "It was shitty to leave like that but my grandmother called me to ask me to take over the shop for her here and I thought maybe it was a sign that I was meant to stay here. LA was hectic, anyway. At least Madre Linda is predictable, and that's probably the only comfort I can give you about this place."

Love chuckled breathlessly, a certain exhaustion lingering in the air. "Maybe... maybe we could try going on a proper date this time.. a- a friendly one, at least. You're the only person here I know and the only one I can trust not to gossip about me." A friendly date... that could lead to more. She could feel Joe pulling away from her with each passing day, it was only fair she had her own fun.

[winterdaphne2]

Gay Easter Eggs in BBC Sherlock

(I trust the above requires no explanation.)

Perhaps someone has done this before, but I wanted to put together a compilation of gay easter eggs in the show that I’ve seen other people point out and/or have thoughts on myself. So here it is!

When I say “easter eggs,” I’m thinking of small clues that the show creators included in the set designs, music choices, and other details of the show to reference that Sherlock and John are in love. I’m thinking of things you could miss at first, especially little clues that often require a bit of extra information or require observations across episodes to understand.

Of course, there’s also lots of subtext woven into the show, moments where interpreting the dialogue or visuals in a certain way tells us something about Sherlock, John, and/or the state of their feelings for one another. I’m not sure if I can clearly define “subtext” versus “easter eggs” and explain what distinguishes them, but at least to me, several of the things I’ve listed here seem a bit different from what people often refer to as subtext. Maybe subtext is about uncovering the layers to a piece of dialogue or an action that takes place in plain sight and seeing how that impacts our interpretation of the story, but easter eggs are about spotting smaller, hidden details. I’m not trained in literary or film studies, though, and I’m not trying to be doctrinaire about this at all! This list is just for fun, anyway. (The above image might not actually count as an easter egg, but I couldn’t resist including it here. Indulge me.)

The more I read about this show and the harder I look, the more I think that hardly anything is there on accident. All these easter eggs must have been included on purpose. The creators knew they were telling a love story all along.

I’ve linked to the posts where I initially saw people point these out or to other good sources, and for some of these I’ve added my own commentary/observations/interpretations. I’m sure there are many other easter eggs that I’ve missed! What have you spotted?

John’s PIN in TBB – When John tries to pay for his groceries at the beginning of the episode, we see that his PIN is 743. In ASIB, Irene’s code to unlock her phone is SHER, which would be 7437 on a phone keypad. So, John’s PIN is a clue that he is or will be in love with Sherlock. Source: @loudest-subtext-in-tv, here.

Shaftesbury Avenue, 20m from Piccadilly Circus in TBB – While investigating in Chinatown, Sherlock and John bump into each other at what used to be a cruising spot for gay men in London. Source: @the-signs-of-two, here.

Archer the American in ASIB – In the scene where the American CIA agents try to get Sherlock to open Irene’s safe, the head CIA agent pressures Sherlock by threatening to have one of his men shoot John. The agent says: “Mr. Archer, on the count of three, shoot Dr. Watson.” Ordering someone named “Archer” to shoot John could be a reference to Arthur Conan Doyle’s poem “The Blind Archer,” which is about Cupid and describes Cupid shooting two men who sound an awful lot like Sherlock and John. Source: couldntpossiblycomment, here.

“¿Dónde Estás, Yolanda?” in TEH – The song that plays during the scene with John and Sherlock’s disastrous reunion at the Landmark restaurant is a cover of the song “¿Dónde Estás, Yolanda?” performed by the band Pink Martini. The Spanish lyrics to this song are about searching for a long-lost lover, which is fitting for the scene where John sees Sherlock again for the first time since his fall. Notably, the creators didn’t use the first of the two versions of this song that Pink Martini has released. The band’s first version appears on their 1997 studio album Sympathique and features a man singing about a woman. Instead of using that version, the creators used the version from Pink Martini’s 2011 compilation album A Retrospective, in which China Forbes performs most of the vocals. So, the creators deliberately chose a remade version of the song in which a woman sings about a woman. They chose a gay song about searching for a long-lost lover for Sherlock and John’s reunion. abrae (@tea-and-liminality on tumblr) has a meta with more to say about the use of this song here.

John’s “oscillation on the pavement” in TEH – In TSOT, John observes a potential client standing outside 221B and trying to make up her mind as to whether to come in. Sherlock tells John “I’ve seen those symptoms before. Oscillation on the pavement always means there’s a love affair.” In the previous episode, John came to visit Sherlock at 221B but hesitated on the pavement outside, staring at the door and trying to decide whether to go in. Sherlock’s comment, “I’ve seen those symptoms before,” is a hint that we, the audience, have also seen those symptoms before—with John in the previous episode. Source: @bidoctor, here. (I saw someone else point out that last part about Sherlock’s hint to the audience, but I can’t find that post, sorry!)

Lilac dresses in TSOT – While planning John and Mary’s wedding, Sherlock chooses lilac-colored dresses for the bridesmaids. When John tells Sherlock that he likes the bridesmaids in purple, Sherlock pointedly corrects him by stating that the dresses are lilac. Apparently, “In Victorian times, giving a lilac meant that the giver is trying to remind the receiver of a first love.” So by dressing the bridesmaids in lilac, Sherlock is trying to remind John of his first love: himself, Sherlock. My heart breaks. Source: @asherlockstudy, here.

Putting the horns on Mary and Janine in TSOT and HLV – In TSOT, there’s a shot where Mary gives Sherlock and John a thumbs up before they head out on a case. The way Mary is standing, the horns on Sherlock’s cow skull thing on the wall behind her are placed right over her head. (I always thought this shot looked pretty weird, but now I see that it must have been intentional!) In the HLV scene with Janine at 221B, there’s a moment when Janine steps in front of John in the frame to kiss Sherlock, and her movement positions the horns right over her head. “Putting the horns” on someone means cheating on them. So in both cases, placing the horns right above Mary’s and Janine’s heads indicates to the audience that Sherlock and John are the real relationship in this show. Source: this post from multiple users on the @sherlockmeta blog.

The architecture of Sherlock’s mind palace in HLV – In the mind palace scene after Mary shoots Sherlock, the architecture of Sherlock’s mind palace is based on locations from ASIP. Sherlock literally built his mind palace out of places from his first case with John, illustrating that his relationship with John is what grounds him and that it means everything to him. abrae has some very helpful screencaps of this here (and I would recommend that whole meta, btw!)

The glasshouse scene in TAB – In TAB, the Victorian John tries to ask Sherlock about his sexuality and sexual history while they’re sitting in a glasshouse. In Victorian Britain, “glasshouse” was another term for a military prison. So John, a military veteran, asks Sherlock about his sexuality in a setting that represents where he would have been sent if he had acted upon his homosexual desires at a time when homosexuality was criminalized. Source: @haffieliesel, here.

What do we say about coincidences? The universe is rarely so lazy.

[cryptidcorners]

Could I have a fluffy imagine/one-shot of Mike with a librarian girl? Like Mike goes back to the place he got the dream book from, and now he wants something to get his mind off (the trauma of the movie) so the librarian helps him find something else he’d like. Maybe a Sherlock Holmes detective or something. Thanks so much!

~ Mike Schmidt x Reader ~

= Title: Friendly Nostalgia

= Character: Mike Schmidt

= Media: Movie!Five Nights At Freddie's

= Prompt: N/A

= Description: The aftermath of Mike's job as a security guard had got him thinking, as well as tripled his internal hardships. In an attempt to cool his troubling mind, Mike decides to go into his old library to find one of his favorite literatures, and maybe a new friend along the way.

= Request: "Could I have a fluffy imagine/one-shot of Mike with a librarian girl? Like Mike goes back to the place he got the dream book from, and now he wants something to get his mind off (the trauma of the movie) so the librarian helps him find something else he’d like. Maybe a Sherlock Holmes detective or something. Thanks so much!"

= Tags: Fluff ! Small Angst? Librarian Reader + Setting, Shy Mike, Sweet Talk, One-Shot, Platonic (with Slight Romantic Implications? It's up for you to decide !) + Reader is !Fem

= Warnings: Childhood Trauma + Kidnapping Mentions, Child Death/Spirits, Struggles with Mental Health (Depression, Anxiety, Stress) + FNAF Movie Spoilers !

Morning birds flocked through the featherweighted clouds thinning across the fresh sky. A chilled exhale rattled out of Mike's throat, the cold dawning air nipping at his skin. His head was foggy with exhaustion, yet flickering with soft excitement. The streets were empty, much to his content. Crowded boulevards and sputtering car exhaust muddied his senses, he hated it more than anything.

He shoved his reddened hands down his pockets to shield the breezes from his fingertips. Mike hated the overwhelming traits of the outside world even more after his accursed job as a solo-unit of security. The crumbled children in the machines, Vanessa wilting away within her hospital bed and William. It was too much and he couldn't handle it.

This whole mess was the reason he was heading towards his local library, one he hadn't stepped in the years. It was the only place he was comfortable visiting now. It was quiet, no people to talk to, and he'd be able to pluck out his favorite contents in peace.

Mike had been particularly fixated on Sherlock Holmes, lately. The whole idea of mysteries had made him want to learn more, even after being injured at Freddie's. Weirdly enough, after scavenging through his old contents, it unraveled more and more about what happened those dreaded nights ago.

Mike hummed quietly as he lazily pushed the glass door. The silence calmed his senses. There were a few locals, but they were buried between pages. After awkwardly exposing his card and being gently discarded to explore the aisles alone. He started trailing around the mystery section. He couldn't pick one story, so he was doing nothing but strolling.

"Do you need some help?" A voice peaked his shoulders for a flash. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, sir."

You apologized, your voice was soothed. Mike shook his head gently, "No, no. It's fine, don't worry."

A smile spreads across your lips and you read the aisle with an eager eye. "You like mystery?"

"I've just gotten into it, really." Mike slid his hands through his curls promptly. It was strange how comfortable he felt, it felt tender, weird enough. "It's a sweet genre. I like it when it keeps me guessing. Gets my mind off everything."

"Yeah. Fiction is a great outlet, that's why I became a librarian." You explained warmly, "It's something I've always dreamed of."

Mike released a breathy chuckle in response, unsure how to reply.

You extended your hand towards the neatly rowed bookshelf, trailing your finger until you slipped out a rough looking cover. Your eyes wandered to him, "You like Sherlock Holmes?"

"He's actually the reason I'm here." Mike tilted his head lightly with a calmed grin. He had no idea why he felt so comfortable around some random librarian girl he had just met, but he had no internal reason to question it. "I have a few of his stories at my house, my little sister found them."

"That's adorable," you brushed your cheek. "Maybe you'd like this one. Personally, I think it's one of his most underrated works." You handed him the book, and his eyes flickered up and down in interest.

"Wow,"

"Cool right?"

Mike nodded.

"I don't think I've seen you before here, uh," You trailed off.

"Oh. Oh, sorry, I'm Mike. Mike Schmidt," He shook your hand softly. "I actually haven't been here in a long time."

You arched a brow, face still settled, "What made you come back?"

"Well, first off, Sherlock Holmes." He shook the book lightly with a low chuckle. "And, well, work. It's been hard, so, I thought I could read a bit to calm things down."

You curled down to pile some scattered books in your hand, "Well, I hope you come back again, Mike. Maybe we can talk about some more stories, outside of here of course. I get a bit loud with stories."

You both chuckled, "I'll come back. I could always use some more mystery." Mike had been clutching the book with eager hands, along with a fluttered expression. He hadn't connected with someone in quite a while. It felt refreshing.

"Well, I have to get back to work. Goodbye, Mike." You stirred back into the halls. Mike whispered in response. "Thank you,"

He wanted to talk more, but, he didn't want to hold you back. Mike's eyes flew down to the hard-leathered surface. He chewed his lip,

I should have asked her for her name . . .

And with that thought resting heavily in his mind, Mike left the library, with a giddy attitude and a little too many mystery books in his hands.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

girl like you 2

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as kidnapping, marital discord, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: a fight with your husband leads to an unexpected situation.

Characters: Lee Bodecker, Jake Jensen

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself. <3

Sheriff Bodecker drives you through the suburbs. You know most of the houses. For five long years you’ve studied it as you worked tirelessly for the HOA, and for what? You don’t get paid. Just like you don’t get anything from your shell of a marriage. How have you spent so long trying to please those who will never be happy? 

You sink into your self-pity, vision blurring behind a wall of tears. You flick away the moisture. You can’t cry. Not yet, not here. You sniff and look away from the green hedges and pristine white pickets. 

You see the Sheriff’s eyes flick away from the rear view. God, how pathetic. 

You clear your throat, dislodging the frog ready to croak, “thank you, sheriff. I won’t be long at the station,” you rub your neck as you lean an elbow on the door, “think I should just call my sister.” 

“No problem with me,” he assures as he steers, keeping a lazy foot on the pedal. “Lady like you, you don’t deserve all that. What man chases his wife away like that, huh?” 

“Well, you know, it’s just an argument. Marriage, right?” You try to laugh it off even though you know this time is different. You can feel it. You just don’t think you can keep pretending and you’re all done hoping. “You fight, make up, whatever.” 

“Hm, yeah, me and the wife... ex-wife, we were the same,” he drawls as turns along Riverview. Riverview? Why the hell is he here? If he’s going into town, he should’ve gone down Walnut. “Think you can guess how that ended.” 

He chuckles and you crane your neck to see behind you. Where is he going? You turn forward and sit back. Should you say something? Surely, he’ll realise he’s not paying attention. 

“Thing is, can’t keep a woman if you don’t treat her right. Your man isn’t doing that, is he? You dolling yourself up all pretty, going down that little club, and he’s arguing with you in the street,” he sucks his teeth, “no way to treat ya. No way at all.” 

He slows and turns into a driveway. You vaguely know the lot. It isn’t the sheriff’s. He rolls towards the garage as the door opens. Your scalp itches as a glaze of sweat rises under your strands. You only realise his scanner hasn’t made a noise. Is he even on duty? 

“Sheriff?” You slide forward in the seat. 

“Now you sit back, sweetheart, you don’t wanna hit yourself on the cage.” 

You blink and put a hand to the barrier, “what’s going on?” 

He throws his elbow back into the divider and rattles loudly. You sit back with a gasp as he enters the garage and the door descends behind you. The engine shuts off and the lights on the dashboard all dim. You’re left in stagnant darkness. 

“Sheriff,” you whisper. 

You squint through gloom and see his shadow. He’s not moving. He just sits there in the front seat. You push yourself forward again. 

“Sheriff, what’s--” 

The door opens to your left, right next to you and suddenly you’re grabbed by your arm. You’re forced out of the car and an arm swiftly circles your neck as another comes around your stomach. You thrash and wriggle, grabbing at the forearm that traps you. 

“Sheriff!” You shriek as terror courses through your veins, ice water zipping through your veins. “Sher--” 

“Now, sweetheart, you don’t wanna make all that racket,” the front door opens and the policeman’s sole scuffs, “ain’t no one gonna hear ya in here.” 

“Sher--” 

“Shut her up!” Bodecker demands. 

The arm retracts from around your stomach and a hand covers your mouth. You writhe and swing your arms out, kicking as you try to see the sheriff in front of you. You gnash your teeth together and pinch the palm against your lips. You hear a grunt as the silent accomplice struggles to keep a hold on you. 

“Calm down,” the sheriff warns, “we can be nice or we can be... not nice. So, you simmer and we’re all get through this.” 

You squeak as the hand against your mouth clamps down, squeezing your jaw until it aches. Your panic swells in your chest as you claw at the body behind you. You continue to blindly stamp your feet, aiming for your invisible assailant. 

“You best get her on a leash or I’m gonna have to do it myself,” Bodecker warns and you hear the jostle of his belt. 

The other man grunts again, wrestling with you. You twist and swing your elbow back into his ribs. He releases you, staggering back with a startled noise. You hear him crash into something as you scream, “help!” 

Before you can get your bearings, a loud crackle snaps in the darkness and a zinging ripples paralyses you. Your legs fold and your muscles all tense then release at once. You collapse to the cold cement and groan as you spasm with the echoes of the current. The tazer cracks again as the electricity flickers in the dark. 

“Now, sweetheart, I was being real nice with you,” Bodecker tuts, “but you just don’t know a good thing when it’s right in front of ya, huh? Not after all those years with that deadbeat.” 

He clucks and steps over you, “get her up. Gotta get her below before she can start her squawking again.” 

You can’t move or speak. You can only twitch as you try to get control of your body. The other man scoops you up, overly gentle despite the situation. You tremble against him as hinges whine loudly. A light radiates from the ground and illuminates the open hatch. 

“Gonna need help,” the second man speaks at last.  

You recognise his voice and it confirms the property owner’s identity. You remember the lot from more than just the neighbourhood roster. You know Jake Jensen. He installed the surveillance cameras at the public park after a bench was grafitti’d and is a deputy in the neighbourhood watch. He always praised your jello cake at the cookouts. 

“J-Jake,” you sputter out. 

He says your name in return, almost as surprised as you. Was this not planned because it feels pretty planned. He climbs down the steep steps to the underground and your head lolls against his shoulder. 

“Wh-why?” You creak through your sandy throat. 

“I’m sorry,” he says but he doesn’t stop.

He carries you forward toward another door. Toward whatever twisted plan these men have in mind for you. Away from the life that doesn't seem so bad in hindsight.

[earako]

A/N: Jumping on the bandwagon for Shermie finds out his brothers are alive

-/-

Two.

There were two of them.

That wasn't right-Shermie was there when Ma got The Call, he was there for the aftermath and he was there when Ma collapsed in his srms sobbing about how no one showed up except for what looked like an IRS agent.

Lee Lee was gone. Six feet under. Crashed and burned in a horrific car accident.

Then For For became even more of a hermit, only really keeping somewhat in contact once the kids were born.

"Grandpa Shermie?"

"Uh-oh, Mabel go grab a chair, grandpa do I need to call 911?"

Shermie could barely hear his grandchildren past the ringing in his ears. He didn't know if it was grief, anger, disbelief, or a mix of both that rendered him frozen and staring at an old and gray pair of twins that the back of his mibd remembered acting almost as a second set of parents towards him.

Twins that taught him how to read from their comic book collection, his five fingered twin sneaking him sweets late at night, his six fingered twin finding ways to make the toys Shermie longingly stared at in the shop windows they'd pass while out with Ma.

"Hey...Sher-bear? You good?"

"Obviously not, Stanely-I told you we should have eased him into this!"

"Ford, how the heck do you ease someone into the fact that their older bro ain't dead and has been impersonating their other older bro for 30 years?"

A laugh bubbled out of Shermie, high and hysterical.

The arguing was oh so achingly familiar. Shermie had fallen to sleep listening to those two voices squabbling, and to his relief despite the arguing the voices lacked the venom laced barbs that became more common when For For and Lee Lee began to, as young Shermie said, "age backwards."

"This isn't real," Shermie managed to wheeze out. "This isn't real, I-I'm hallucinating or-or I'm dreaming, Lee Lee is dead and I've snapped or something-"

A six fingered hand gently cradled the back of Shermie's head while five fingers pulled him into a familiar feeling hug. "Sher-bear..."

"No!" Shermie yelled, wanting to rip himself out of the hug but the hands held tight and squeezed. His body instantly relaxed.

He shakily reached up and grasped the backs of his brothers shirts.

Solid.

Real.

Not a hallucination.

Shermie sobbed.

"Y-y-you asshole! Jerk! You-why didn't you tell me? No one told me! No one told me anything!"

"We know. We know and we're so, so sorry Shermie," For For's familiar, lower rasp softly hushed and cooed at Shermie while Lee Lee's slightly higher pitch hummed off key.

It was a scene straight out of Shermie's childhood.

He cried even harder.

"Grandpa?"

"Grunkle Stan, Great-Uncle Ford his he gonna be okay?"

"He'll be fine kids," Shermie heard Lee Lee say, For For adding in, "He's procrssing a lot of emotions right now. He'll be fine once they run their course."

Shermie hiccuped. He gave his brother's (alive, both of them were alive, how-when-what-he had so many questions-) one last squeeze before managing to pull back so he could properly look at them.

"Where did you both go?" He asked, feeling his 8 year old self resurface. His brothers exchanged pained glances with one another.

"...Bad brains and bad people," Lee Lee muttered. Shermie raised a brow. "Elaborate?"

"That'll take some time, I'll put on some coffee. Kids come help me."

"Make sure he doesn't burn the water!" Lee Lee called after For For and the grandchildrens retreating forms.

"That was one time!"

"One time too many!" Stan called back, teasingly. Shermie let out a shuddering breath and wiped his face with his sleeves, laughing slightly at the familiar exchange. Stan seemed to brighten up at hearing a genuine laugh from Shermie.

"Hey, there's my smily lil Sher-bear." Shermie rolled his eyes, gesturing to the kitchen. "I have grandkids."

"Still the baby."

"By 8 years!" At the sound of Stan's laugher along with Ford and the kids bustling in the kitchen Shermie felt a weight he didn't know was in his chest lighten up a bit. He still wanted answers and was definitely going to demand them over coffee.

For now, though, he was going to enjoy the fact that he had both of his safe people back.

[hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds]

Spencer Reid x blind daughter reader

Request from Ao3

Request: Can you write a father Spencer Reid fluffy blind daughter. The Spencer beings her into work on a slow day at work and they read together and the team see it.

Third person pov...

Spencer Reid was a devoted father of a young daughter named Y/N. She was blind, but that didn't stop her from living a full life.

Spencer had always found ways to make her feel included and special, and today was no different. So when he had an unexpected and slow day at work, he decided to bring his six-year-old daughter, who happened to be visually impaired, along with him.

Once his daughter was dressed Spencer grabbed his stuff for work. Once he was done he also packed a couple of Braille books for his daughter to read while he is busy and some books for him to read to her.

"Okay ready to go N/N?" He questions her the 6 year old jumps up and down excited to go to her Daddy's work. "Yes very much Daddy!" She exclaimed making Spencer laugh at how excited she was.

He then grabbed thr front doors keys. "Then let's go!" He exclaimed jsut as energetic as his daughter, the two then leave the apartment and walk downstairs to the entrance, Spencer walking behind his daughter to make sure she doesn't fall.

He knows she can navigate their building jsut fine, but he still worries, once they make it downstairs Y/N holds out her hand tk her Dad knowing she will need his help.

Spencer smiles and take sher tiny hand in his. "Of we go!" He says the two walk through the busy streets of Quantico together, of course people watch as they walk.

Spencer jsut looks forward knowing they were curious about the blind 6 year old with him wearing her black sunglasses and a lanyard that told people she was blind.

The little girl skips happily down the path knowing her Dad would stop her from walking into anything. "I can't wait to read with you Daddy!" She says happy, Spencer smiles.

They are almost at the station. "Me too Y/N, you will get to meet my team as well don't forget" he says reminding the girl.

The 6 year old gasps comically before breaking out into a big smile. "Oh yeah, I can't wait to meet them, arw they jsut as you described to me Daddy?" She asks.

Spencer always tells his daughter about what he and his team did when the come back from cases. Of course he eaves out all the blood and how they found the bodies.

He told his daughter about each member of the team ans described them in detail so she knows what they look like with out seeing them, Y/N always enjoyed hearing stories from her Daddy.

Soon they get if the train and get onto the floor that the BAU are on, He set up a small desk next to his desk, Y/N sat there with her books while Spencer worked nearby.

At first, the office was quiet, but soon the other agents began to notice Spencer and Y/N, soon the other members of the team noticed the sweet father-daughter moment.

Some of the team members stopped by to say hello to Y/N and she greeted them with a smile. They were curious and wanted to know why she was there.

Spencer explained that he wanted Y/N to be able to experience the world in a different way, and he read books to her out loud while she followed along in her own braille copy.

It wasn't long before the whole team was gathered around Spencer's desk watching as he and Y/N read together. Soon, a discussion began about the book they were reading, and the team was pleasantly surprised to find that Y/N was a knowledgeable and insightful reader.

The agents were amazed by Y/Ns enthusiasm and intelligence as she followed along with the stories. Soon, the entire office was listening in awe as Spencer read to Y/N. They were all moved by Y/N courage and resilience, and touched by the bond between father and daughter.

Spencer and Y/N spent the rest of the afternoon reading together, surrounded by the team. Even Bossman who was completely fine with Reid reading woth his daughter.

He knew the yojng Dr was also doing his work in-between, it was a beautiful reminder of how important it is to include those with disabilities in everyday life, and to show them that they are just as valuable as anyone else.

At the end of the day, the agents all said their goodbyes to Y/N who excitedly waved back a griant smile on her face and thanked Spencer for bringing her to work.

Y/N left feeling proud of herself, and Spencer left feeling proud of his daughter. They both had a new appreciation for the power of books, and the power of family.

As the two walk back home Y/N is skipping and swinging her and her daddies arms. "Thank you for taking me Daddy" she says in the quiet night.

Spencer looks down at his Daughter whis smile hadn't left her face since they left the office. He raises an eyebrow before smiling and ruffling his daughters hair.

"Of course N/N, I'm glad you had a fun time reading with me and meeting my team" he says, Y/N,continues her skipping "of course why wouldn't I they are you family as much as I am" she says.

Spencer then surprises the 6 year old by picking her up and putting her on his shoulders, thr child yelps before holding onto his hands tightly.

"Daddy's warn me next time!" She exclaimed trying to tell of her dad which ends in her giggling. "Sorry Y/N" laughs Spencer as the two make their way home.

The end!

Hope you liked this oneshot, sk sorry for thr wait! Sorry for the grammar and Spelling mistakes.

Request are open!

Word count: 1025

[strawberryjamsara]

Illumination Studios Your Turn To Die! Trailer

Joe voiced by Chris Pratt: Hey Sara, what did you write down for number 6 on the homework?

Sara voiced by Scarlett Johansson: Well, I thought that the opening line was a mockery of the Capulets and Montagues, saying they’re alike in dignity by subtly implying they have none.

Joe looking at his homework that says 27: Huh… so I got it way wrong.

(Tick Tock by Ke$ha starts playing)

Sara: So this facility has death traps

(Cut to Nao Reko and Sara looking into a bed of spikes)

Sara: Dolls that look and act like humans

(Cut to Ranger standing over a crying Kanna)

Ranger voiced by Ben Schwartz: Wow, all I said was that she looked like a booger. I didn’t even start the she’ll never amount to anything speech!

Kanna voiced by Eden Sher: Sou make him stop!

Sara: And these collars we can’t begin to understand. Do you have any idea who could’ve done this detective?

Keiji voiced by Danny Devito: Give me a second Sara.

Keiji making a doll of Shin slap itself in the face repeatedly: Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself?

Sara: Ugh.

(Get ready…)

Nao voiced by Kristen Schaal: You know Professor Mishima says not to use violence against others…

Qtaro voiced by Seth Rogan: Well, that’s a good lesson-

Nao: BUT THE PROFESSORS DEAD! EAT THIS PAN!

Kai voiced Jonathan Banks: That’s not mine is it?

Nao: Too late! I got him! Take that!

(For your turn…)

Shin voiced by Tom Kenny: I sometimes feel like the only intellectual in a death game full of morons.

Sara: Didn’t I see you crying because you fell trying to stack chairs to reach something on a high shelf?

Shin: … And the morons are planning my downfall.

Keiji: Actually, you had the downfall.

Shin: CAN YOU LET ME MONOLOGUE IN PEACE?!

(This summer…)

Reko voiced by Kimberly Brooks: You’re not gonna tell them who you are.

Alice voiced by Charlie Day: I’m not gonna tell them who I am.

Nao: What are you guys talking about?

Alice: I’m not gonna tell you.

Reko: (Facepalms)

(This summer…)

Joe: Me and Gin are gonna beat the bad guys!

Sara: And how are you gonna do that?

Gin voiced by Tara Strong: Apparently, Safalin has a cat allergy, meow!

(Will be time for…)

Sara: Now you’ll see what happens when you mess with a Samurai Woman

(Your Turn To Die)

Midori voiced by James Charles: Ooooooooh. Well, show me what you got Sara

(Coming to a theater near you)

[webslingingslasher]

sometimes trouble gets lunch with aunt may and it stresses frat peter out

oh yes. alright, so let's flash forward a little. trouble's met aunt may and stayed a weekend- but they haven't really chatted until may invites her, and only her, to lunch.

----

'sorry, handsome. i know you were sleeping in but i needed to grab my wallet.'

rubbing at an eye, 'what time is it and why do you need your wallet?'

'ten thirty, i'm having lunch with may, she said her treat but i'm gonna try and beat her to it.'

that satisfies him, so he rolls back over and when he hears her pace the floor until a delicate kiss is placed on his temple he asks.

'who's may?' because one isn't registering, she hadn't told him about a new friend.

'your may.' he's dreaming still, he has to be. there is no way in hell his aunt called to take her out for lunch because may didn't tell him about her plans.

peter rolls to his back to look up at her, 'my may, who?' she laughs, 'your aunt!' he sits up, 'she didn't tell me, what time are we meeting?' anxiety builds when her hand pushes him down, 'easy, tiger. she said she wanted one on one time because you wouldn't let it happen when we stayed with her.'

no way in hell was he letting that happen, he's told may things he hasn't told her and he knows his aunt can push his boundaries a little too far.

'that's not true,' (it was.) 'i mean, it's my aunt, right? i should get to have lunch with her too.'

'she told me to get nasty with you if you insisted to come, and i don't want to get nasty with you. i want to bring you back a doggy bag and the inside scoop.'

peter's in a dream all right, it's a fucking nightmare.

she feels a little bad when he throws a pillow over his face mumbling something about suffocating himself. she can see right through his act of defiance, he's scared.

peter tenses when she straddles him over the sheets, he pulls the pillow off his face just enough to peek an eye at her, then goes back to hiding.

'why are you so scared of us having lunch together?' he doesn't answer, so she drags her nails down his torso, his hand stopped hers. 'don't start something to get answers, i'm on to you.'

it's true, he'd admit anything post nut.

'i'm leaving, any last words, mr. parker?'

he only has one, peter throws the pillow he's hiding under to the other side of the bed, he sits up on his elbows.

'don't love her more than me.'

a hand smacks his chest, 'shut up!'

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

bonus:: may shared things about peter that helped her understand him a little better, and maybe something about how much he likes her. but the most interesting thing was what she kept thinking about, looping it until sher got back to his house to ask him about it.

he looked petrified when she opened his door and played into it.

'oh, may shared information all right. and you've been hiding something from me, something big.'

he gulped, 'yeah?'

'i can't believe you, i thought i knew who you were, i guess not.'

'oh fuck, what did she say?'

'peter, i need you to be completely honest with me. why the hell didn't you tell me you had a pet bunny for several years?'

'a pet? you're calling him a pet? when he died, i died. i'm a shell of what peter used to be. thanks for reminding me. darth vader, if you're listening, i'm sorry she's tarnishing your name, buddy.'



[thisismeracing]

komh thots

lazy mornings with these two when there is an on off week

its saturday morning and the sun beams softly onto mick’s whole world

and he is just lying there lazily and half asleep adoring his partner

he tucks himself into the crook of her neck and matches his breath with hers until he falls back asleep

and then its her turn to wake up and quietly admire her lover

eventually they pull themselves out of bed and make their way to the kitchen

they steal kisses and touches and find excuses to be eachothers personal space

hamilton!reader is starting on their coffees and mick ends up behind her and sticking the side of his head to hers and giving her a hug from the back

she giggles and tilts her head to give him a kiss

they somehow make breakfast and take turns feeding each other while trying not to choke because the other has said something so ridiculous that they cant help but ellicit a laugh

its their little world away from it all and they will happily fill it with the best memories they can conjure up so when they are old and grey they can reminiscence on the good old days

(why tf is reminiscence spelt like that, i thought it would be a shorter word tbh)

☕️

Morning Light | MS47

― Pairing: Mick Schumacher x Hamilton!reader (sher/her) ― Warnings: mentions of food; tooth-rotting fluff. ― my masterlist | my taglist | patreon masterlist― you can support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or  buying me a coffee ― This lil blurb can be read as a stand-alone, but if you want more about hamilton!reader and mick make sure to read King of my Heart (here)

The rays of the sun coming from the big window in front of Mick's bed woke him up. He had forgotten to close the blinds the previous night, too tired to consider anything but snuggle closer to Yn, and let his body slip into oblivion. He felt her warmth right beside him, and he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands, before turning on his side and admiring his girlfriend's sleeping form.

He would get up and close the blinds, but Yn slept with a sleep mask, so it wouldn't change much, besides, she had nestled closer to him, making leaving the bed a horrible option. It was an off weekend, he would enjoy every second of having her close. Mick meant it.

Yn moved again, still asleep, and Mick found the comfiest spot on her neck, laying his head there, tangling their legs, evening their breaths, kissing her brown skin, and letting his body drift into sleep again.

Hours passed when Yn woke up. One side of her bed felt heavier than the other, and the second her eyes opened she couldn't help but smile. Mick was there. She angled her head and pressed a kiss to his forehead, threading her fingers through his hair when he tightened his grip on her waist.

"Can we have five more minutes?" he mumbled without moving.

Yn chuckled still half asleep, "Please".

So the silence in the house went on for yet another hour before they woke up. Mick did it first, pressing kisses against her neck and shoulder, making his lover wake up with a beaming smile on her face. "Morning," she whispered when he said something about a beautiful day.

"C'mon, Angie must be starving," Mick mumbled, his sleeping voice making Yn shiver.

"Well, I am starving too," she mocked, and he chuckled.

"Pancakes?"

"Sure thing."

They washed their faces side by side on the bathroom sink, and Mick watched as Yn went through her morning skincare routine, and then took off her bonnet framing her curls around her face. She had no makeup on, and she was wearing one of his shirts, but still, she looked like the prettiest woman in the world for him. He told her that and she giggled, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, and dragging him to the kitchen to get started on their breakfast.

Angie greeted them excitedly by the stairs, and Yn cooed when the dog followed her even after she gave her their morning scratches. She plated Angie's food and served the wiggly dog, while Mick got started on the pancakes.

Yn was cutting some fruits when Mick hugged her from behind, kissing her shoulder, then her neck, jaw, and when she turned her face to him, her lips. She sighed with the way he held her, the warmth he radiated.

"Did you finish the pancakes?" she asked, and Mick shook his head, kissing her lips one more time, before explaining, "Not yet, but I needed my fuel," and she rolled her eyes playfully at his antics.

"You're so cheesy sometimes."

"And you love me just the same," he teased, leaving a slap on her ass.

Yn left the knife and the mango on the counter, and turned to him, lacing her hands around his broad shoulders. His eyes were even clearer with the sun shining through the windows, and his lips had a pink tone to it from all the kisses. They stared at each other in complete silence for a few seconds, no words were needed in those moments, but still Yn nodded and voiced three small ones, making Mick smile, "I love you."

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: I JUST HAD TO SDKGJSKGJDS <3 I've been procrastinating writing chapter 22, so I hope this can distract y'all a bit while I get started heheh <3

[emberglowfox]

HELP MY FAMILY TO EVACUATE FROM GAZA

Please help me and my family to evacuate from gaza

Donate if you can

Sher if you cant

https://gofund.me/98b04c36

Hey guys I checked and it looks like this is a valid fundraiser vetted by sayruq. They are very, very short of their goal, so please please donate if you have anything to spare.

If any of you donate more than $10, reach out to me and I’ll give you a sketch of anything you like. The more you donate, the better art. Please help these people.

[byrdstrolls]

Mysteries Are Like Onions Part One

Somewhere, deep in the western plains, dotted with sparse farms and gas stations, cottonwood and tumbleweed, a young boy steps off a train. He is dressed like a respectable six sweep old in his sunday best, though it was friday. He wears a brown overall dress with a short light red button up. A pair of dark red fingerless gloves and bows in his hair signify his blood color. On his back is one of those tall camping backpacks, nearly the size of the entire kid, yet it had to be lightweight enough, because he navigated the dusty old station with balance and ease, though perhaps a bit of slowness. Clasped in his hands is a yellow lined notepad, the kind where the papers tear off, that he has a pen leaned into at the ready. In his mouth is a tiny gold sunflower necklace he gnaws on absentmindedly, thinking. Anyone who knew him would know it rarely left that place in his mouth. 

Strangely, he is alone. 

Down the way, an older tealblood woman in a long dress and cardigan paces up and down the station's platform. Anxiety radiates off of her even from ten or so feet away, but the child, with a glance around, quickly deduces she is the only other troll at the station. He walks over, red shoes clacking on the grain of the old wood, and, as gently as he can, attempts to interrupt her nervous march. 

“‘xcuse me miss,” He says. “You have a moment?”

“Hmm?” She answers, blinking. “Oh-” She says, glancing at the teenager as if seeing him for the first time. 

“Sure” She says, her gaze softening. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have a map of this area, wouldya? I’m tryin’ to make my way to the umm. Express train station but I might’ve gone the wrong way.” 

The woman pats her pockets, finding them empty. 

“Well- not with me” She says, apologetically. “But it’s not far to my hive. Do you have somebody waitin’ on you?” She continues, hoping the answer is yes. It’s dangerous to travel alone, especially with a caste that low and especially for a troll that young. 

“No m’am” He says, and her heart sinks ever so slightly. “Lead the way.” 

And so the two of them began to walk back towards the direction of the town. 

“I’m Laryan” She offers. 

“Nice to meet ya Miss Laryan” Says the teenager, as polite as ever. 

“What’s your name?” She asks. “What’re you doin’ out here?”

“Barely” He answers, electing to only respond to one of the questions. “I’m Barely Shyeck.” 

“That's… an interesting name” She responds. 

“I’m a detective” He says, as if this somehow justifies something.

“Is that so?” She replies. 

“All detectives” he says, “Have silly names” 

“Can’t say I’ve met enough detectives to know.” 

“Sher-lock. Pie-rot. The silly name” He says. “Came free with my notepad.” 

She snorts, unable to help from laughing at this assertion, and judging by the grin around his necklace on Barely’s face, he had intended it that way. 

“This is me,” She says, pointing to a cozy little one story hive, and unlocking the door. 

“Nice place” Barely says, looking around. 

“Oh- don’t pay attention to anything, it’s so dirty” She sighs, shuffling through piles of papers on a crowded dining room table. Eventually, she pulls out a rail map, sweeping out a place on the table and unfolding it out. Barely inches closer, looking over her shoulder. 

“You and I are right here” She says, circling the town of Baskertop. “Over by the Fleetrail, (but that’s not a passenger train) and the Eastbound. You can take the Eastbound train” she says, hand going further down the map, “Up to Shercattle, and take that up to Creekturn, and the Express to the city is right there” 

He nods along, his brow furrowing, tracing the journey she’s laid out for him several times with a finger. 

“Could I have this?” he asks. “I’ll work to pay you back.” 

“How so?” She asks. 

“I’m a detective” He again asserts, clearly having a lot of pride in referring to himself as such. “Give me a mystery and I’ll solve it- and I’ll not ask for a fee if you let me stay the day and have the map.” 

She had already become endeared to the strange little young man to the point she might have offered him those things freely. But the little rust seems to take himself so seriously it was hard not to play along. 

“Alright,” She says. “I misplaced my wallet this evening- If you can find it, you’ve got yourself a deal.” 

Barely pauses for a second. “Miss Laryan,” he says. “I’d gladly do that for you, but you’re sellin’ me a lil short” he huffs. “I really can handle a mystery more mysterious than that.” 

“If I can think of another one,” She says. “I’ll let you know. Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Yes miss, thank you�� He says, giving one last look at his map before setting down his notepad. 

“Why were you at the train station, Miss Laryan? Were you waitin’ on someone?” 

She laughs, in the floaty, self deprecatory way some trolls do, putting a kettle on the stove. 

“Not exactly. I was tryin’ to build up the nerve to make a visit to Shercattle myself. But it doesn’t matter- misplaced my wallet. I couldn’t find my train ticket, I’m sure it was in it.” 

“Why were you goin’ there?” He asks. 

“To visit a friend of a friend- if he could be called that, and ask him a favor.” Laryan sighs, tapping her finger on the counter. 

“My moirail” She says. “Is a cowboy out on the plains. A bunch of his cattle, and the other cowpokes too, have been going missin’. All of them are at their wits ends about the whole thing.” 

“Really?” Barely says, perking up, scribbling down on his notepad. Drawn to these kinds of puzzles like a moth to a flame. It’s like trying to fish salt out of water, to separate a detective from their nosiness. 

“All of them” She frowns, exhaling. “Are out there blaming the other cowpokes, or a thief. Think someone takin’ more than their share.”

“Makes sense,” Barely nods. “But what’s that got to do with Shercattle?” 

“Well,” Laryan shrugs. “I figured if somebody was stealing the moobeasts, they’d probably have to be selling em, or the meat, somewhere, right? And the cowboys know most people in Baskertop. It’s a small town. They’d know if somebody was buyin’ em here. Shercattle, though, it’s a little further out- mostly dairy farms. They’d have just as much of a reason to buy cattle as we do.” 

“So you were gonna go there, and ask your friend of a friend if he’s seen anything?” The rustblood extrapolates, thinking, that perhaps, Miss Laryan was a whole lot smarter than she trusted herself to be. The kettle on the stove goes off, it’s screech like a final ding to the end of his sentence. 

She takes the thing off the stove, going to pour the tea.

“Yes,” She confirms. “This friend- well, you didn't hear this from me-" She qualifies, before beginning something like gossiping. "He's a, well- I don’t want to say a fling- of my moirail- Vekeso- Well, maybe he would be if they stopped pussyfootin’ about. I knew him through Vek. He’s a dairy farmer. I probably forgot my wallet someplace, because, well, I was so nervous, I think there’s been some kind of fallin’ out between the two of them these past months. I don’t know if he’s still fond of me, knowin’ how tied up I am with Vekeso. Sugar?” She asks. 

“Yes please!” Says the teenager, swinging his feet under the table. “Honey, if you have it. Are you sure you don’t want me to solve all that mystery instead?” He offers. 

“Trolls can turn nasty about these kinds of things when there’s money involved” She sighs, setting down his teacup. “I’d rather you stay out of it, for my peace of mind.” She continues, sitting down with him. “Don’t you wanna ask me questions about my wallet?” 

The young man picks up the tea, blowing on it, a tiny huffy little frown on his face, as if he still considered this beneath him. 

“Where’d you last have it?” He concedes, starting with the basics. 

“Well,” She says, pausing to sip her tea. “I usually keep it in my coat pocket. I wear this coat everywhere, you see. I’ve never lost it before.” 

“Is there anyplace you hang up your coat? Did you buy anything this evening or last morning?”

“There’s a rack at work and at my hive” She says, touching her cheek with her finger as she thinks. “I don’t think I bought anythin’- but, oh!” She squeaks suddenly, paling. 

“What is it Miss?” Barely inquires, a look of concern flashing across his face, he turns the necklace in his teeth. 

“I shan’t say.” She frowns, her shoulders sinking. 

The young rust stares for a moment, and then reaches across and takes the woman's hand, giving it a gentle pat. 

“My loyalty is to my client, Miss. That’s you. I won’t tell anybody.” 

She frowns, glancing to the side, but the boy really does seem so earnest. 

“Don’t tell a soul” She says, biting her lip. “But… I’m a clerk at Baskertop’s Municipal office. My eyes aren’t as fast as they used to be. Sometimes- I’ll get a little behind.” Laryan sighs. “On the paperwork. And- it’s not supposed to leave the archives. But, some days, I’ll take something and fold it up and stash it away- so I can work on it before opening next evening, and not fall behind.” She groans. “I can see it now. I was probably foldin’ up something frantically, puttin’ it in the wallet, rushing around to close up on time- and I probably left it right there on my desk” She says, with a guilty, sad little smile. 

He nods. “See?” He says. “Too easy.” 

“I work again later tonight, I can check when I clock in then.” She muses. “Thanks anyways, Mr. Detective.” She says fondly. “Want me to show you to the guest room?” 

“No thank you, Miss Laryan.” he says. “I might wanna go around town for a spell.” Barely says, standing up to rinse his empty mug. 

“I told you,” She frowns. “Don’t go pokin’ around that moobeast thief nonsense.” 

“I won’t” he says, with a smile. “I promise” He says, heading out the door to go start pokin’ around that moobeast thief nonsense. 

.

.

.

.

.

He starts, as any reasonable troll would, a ranches, moseying about for cowpokes down the road. It’s not long before he finds one. Barely’s eyes light up, and he walks over to a tall beanpole of a jade sitting up on a wood fence. 

“‘xcuse me sir,” Barely says. “You wouldn’t happen to know a Vekeso, wouldya?”

“Who’s askin’?” The man mutters, lifting the brim of his hat. 

“I’m Barely Shyeck” He says, offering his hand. “Detective”

“Detectin’ what?” The stranger huffs, staring down at the hand but not taking it. “Am I in trouble?” 

“Oh, no, I’m just tryin’ to find some missing moobeasts, mister…?” 

The jade stares down at the still offered hand for a moment, before finally conceding to take and shake it. He releases it, leaning back. 

“Mister Vekeso to you.” He says. 

Barely grins, glad to have found him so quickly. 

“Mister Vekeso” He says, “Could you show me the fields where the cattle are?” 

“You fine with horses, kid?” Vekeso says. “Dunno what you’ll find that the rest of us haven’t.” 

“I’ve been riding horses since I was four, mister.” Barely says, climbing over the fence to where Vekeso kept his stallion. Suddenly, the Jadeblood pauses. 

“The other cowpokes didn’t send you, did they?” He asks.

“Miss Laryan did, in a way.” He answers. 

“Of course” Vekeso sighs, plopping down on the horse, and offering a kid a hand up. But he does seem to relax upon hearing that his moirail was the source of Barely’s investigation. “She’s always meddlin’ in cowpoke business,” He mutters, but in the fond kind of way in which a troll teases someone they’re close to. 

“She means well, Mister.” He replies, leaning into him as the horse begins to trot in earnest. 

The plains were beautiful this time of night, a great rolling ribbon of greens, pinks and blues that stretched out into a star filled sky. The plants were tall and thriving in the moonlight. It’s quiet, and a little serene, but the detective's eyes are not on the view, but on the ground. 

“You graze your herd here often?” Say’s the boy. 

“What’s it to you?” says the jade, as forthcoming on information as ever. 

“It just doesn’t look very grazed, is all” He answers, gesturing at the lush vegetation. 

Vekeso is quiet for a long moment before he decides to answer this question. 

“We used to go further north.” He says. “But since the Fleetrail went in half a sweep ago, all the construction, there just isn’t enough land anymore. I’d have been outta a job if the Mayor hadn’t rented us the Redgrass Ranch he’s been sittin’ on.” 

“I see,” Barely says. “The cows sure must be happy about it.” 

Vekeso snorts. “Yeah, I bet” He says, a tiny half smile appearing on the jade’s face for a moment, before being swallowed, and disappearing into a look of barely withheld bitterness. Barely waits for him to say more, but he doesn’t. 

“Do you like the new lands?” The child prompts, finally. 

“That’s neither here nor there.” Vekeso murmurs under his breath. 

“Any information, really” Says Barely. “Might help with the case.” 

“This’s got nothin’ to do with the cattle” He says, still prickly. 

“Motives” Barely retorts. “For trolls bein’ upset, might have a lot to do with the cattle.” 

“I thought I wasn’t in trouble.” Vekeso replies. 

“You’re not.” The teenager reassures. 

“Well, I’m the only one who’s upset,” Vekeso complains. “And I didn’t steal any damn cattle about it. I’m too grown for that. The mayor was nice and all to rent us these grounds.” He huffs. “But he’s still fleet, so there’s all sorts of stupid regulations on it. How long you can stay, who you sell cattle too, who you gotta answer to. The other cowpokes don’t care, because we’re making more money than we ever have, sellin’ out to factories who want that free range sticker ta put on their packages” Vekeso says, pulling the horses reins, bringing the two of them to a halt, in a little area on the edge of the woods that overlooked the herd. 

“Me I’m not fond of anybody lookin’ over my shoulder.” He exhales, sliding off the horse, and crossing his arms. 

“And there’s the disappearances” Barely adds. 

“Yeah, and there's those.” The cowboy sighs. “Not fond’a those either. But I wouldn’t be stealin’ my own damn moobeasts.” He adds. 

Barely hops off after him, stumbling a little as he lands on the ground. “I understand, Mister Vekeso, really. I don’t think it's you. But that helps, anyway.” He attempts to reassure him, again. The child smooths out his dress, and begins to take a closer look around the property. Turning in circles once or twice with his notepad, biting into that necklace. 

“Mister Vekeso” He says, suddenly. “Do these woods go down the whole property?”

“Pretty much” He answers. “They follow along the river.” 

A contemplative expression rests on the rustbloods face, and he turns and begins walking into the trees. 

“Hello?” Vekeso says, watching with mild confusion, gesturing at the herd. “The cattle are over here, “detective”?” he says, gesturing at the field.

“Don’t airquote me, “cowboy”” Barely bites back. “What kinda animals do you usually get out here, Mister?” 

“Nothin’ bigger than a fox or deer, kid. I mean, nothin’ that’s gonna wanna eat a moobeast.” He says. “What’re you on about?” 

“How far north does the Fleetrail go?” Barely asks, bustling around the forest floor as if looking for something. 

“What?” Says Vekeso with a sigh, before finally following Barely into the woods, not wanting to lose sight of him. 

“You said the new segment was built earlier this sweep” The detective clarifies, wandering around glances under bushes. “Does it go back far?” 

“It’s a train,” Vekeso says, struggling to keep up with the child. “Of course it goes back far.” 

“They probably developed,” Barely says, climbing around some rocks. “A lot more land than just your old ranges, didn’t they?” He continues, his voice muffled by distance. 

“Probably” Vek says, frowning. 

“Well, what kinds of animals live further up north?” Barely says, continuing his strange search. “Their habitats woulda been destroyed. I reckon they’d be upset, and starving, and wandering around further out than they’d ever been havin’ nowhere to go.” 

“I see where you’re goin’ with this” Vekeso says, finally catching up. “But what’d be big enough to take a whole cow?” 

“In my travels” Barely says. “I’ve seen howlbeasts, nearly as big as elk, up north.” 

The cowboy stares, dumbfounded. “They’d be a long way from home” He answers. 

“Couldn’t hurt to look, could it?” Says the rust. 

Vekeso walks over to him. “What’re we lookin’ for?” 

“Tracks, scat, big hole or cave in the earth that might be a lay or den.” The child says. Vekeso stares for a moment, before exhaling, rolling up his sleeves and going to help the detective with his search. 

The two of them cover a lot of ground, in about an hour. With every step he takes further into the property Vekeso starts to feel a little bit more anxious about the whole thing. He wasn’t sure if he wanted the kid to be right. It’d make him feel mighty silly, if he and the other rangers had all been pointin’ fingers everywhere about a problem caused by some displaced wild animals. Just when he opens his mouth to tell the kid maybe they better give up and head back, Barely calls from across the way. 

“I found one, Mister!” He exclaims. 

“A what…?” Says Vekeso, heading over trepidatiously. 

“An old den!” The kid says, peeking out of a large hole in between to big pieces of rocks, holding a tuft of hair triumphantly. 

Vekeso walks over, and takes the coarse chunk of fur from his hands. 

“I’ll be damned.” He huffs. 

“It was wolves.” Barely asserts. 

“Well” Vekeso frowns. “I guess I’ll be removin’ yer air quotes, Detective Barely.” He says. 

The child beams. “Thank you Mister Vekeso.” He says. “Couldya take me back to town?” 

.

.

.

.

.

It was hard to ride the satisfaction of having solved the case for long. Vekeso didn’t even seem too happy about it, and all the lengthy way back to town, Barely was haunted by the feeling it had been too easy. As easy as a misplaced wallet, wrapped up in a single day. Maybe he shouldn’t wish a harder life on himself, but he longed to stretch his legs and mind further than this. He couldn’t help but think there was a shadow of an even bigger mystery enclosed around this place. He couldn’t see its form, couldn’t determine its nature just yet. Too many loose questions and pathways, ends that hadn’t quite been tied. 

Vekeso ran off, presumably to talk to the other cowpokes, to talk strategy. That’s something Barely didn’t like, either. He had given him an answer, but not a solution. The land taken by the Fleetrail wasn’t coming back anytime soon. They might just have to kill the wolves, which was it’s own headache, for both moral and logistical reasons. 

At least, Barely resolved, he could head down to the municipal office, and hopefully share with Miss Laryan the joy of finding her misplaced wallet. 

But it was not so. As Barely approached the office, a tiny frown curved around his necklace as he began to notice the place was swarming with officers. He glanced between them, attempting to determine the intricacies of their rank, before walking over to the youngest, who was putting crime scene tape over the doors. 

“‘xcuse me sir” He says, “What happened here?” 

“There was a robbery.” The man sighs. “Someone broke in last day.”

“I don’t mean to be trouble officer, but what’d they take?” 

“Government papers. A couple old county estate exchange receipts. Stop nosing around.” The officer says, more sternly. 

“I can’t help it, Sir,” Barely answers. “I’m a detective.” 

The man pauses for a moment, and then flat out laughs at him. 

“Go play somewhere else” He says. 

“Can I look inside?” Barely pleads. 

“Of course not” The officer huffs. 

“Can you describe it to me?” He asks. 

“Will that make you leave?” The man says. “It’s a fucking mess, kid. They tore the damn place apart, real desperate for that crusty old paperwork. Piss off.”

Barely’s brows furrow, and he finally takes the hint, walking away. He tries to view the scene from different angles, as best as he could from a distance. He wanders back and forth, before, with a slight frown, pulling out his notepad to write down that none of the doors or windows seem damaged. Besides, he assumes, the sorry state of the office and archives, it was difficult to tell someone had broken in at all. The robber must have been let in, or had a key. He contemplates this for a long moment. Before spotting Miss Laryan down the way, and speedwalking down the road ask fast as his little legs could carry him. 

“Miss Laryan” he says, “could I pull you aside for a moment?”

“Barely, I have work” She chides, as the child drags her off into a nearby alleyway. “What’s going on down there?” 

“I need you to stay calm, and answer some questions for me” Barely says, with as much assertiveness as he can muster. 

“Who else works at the municipal office? Who has a key?” 

“Why-” She frowns, “the security? I’m the only clerk, you see. It’s why I gotta work so hard” 

Barely’s heart sinks. 

“What was the paper,” he says. “That you snuck into your wallet last night?” 

“Oh, it was so late” She frowns, struggling to remember. “It was… messiahs- I think… maybe some old land sale?” 

“Are you sure you left your wallet on the desk?” He says. 

“I mean- not really” She backtracks. “But it wouldn’t hurt to check, right?” She says, flustered by the child's seriousness. “Why do you ask?” 

“You can’t go to work,” Barely says. 

“What? Why?” Laryan says, biting her nails. 

“There’s been a robbery” The rust frowns. “And if the fleet sheriffs got any kind of head on their shoulders, you’re a prime suspect.” 

Miss Laryan pales. “But- I didn’t! I was- I take paperwork home all the time! There just- weren’t enough hours in the night- what’re they saying? What should I say?” The woman panics, starting to hyperventilate. 

“M’am,- m’am it’s okay, just breathe-” Barely tries to assure her to little avail. 

“I can’t go to jail!” The teal squeaks, and then, suddenly, falls to the ground, as if stressed to the point of honest to g-d fainting.

Barely’s eyes widen, and he stares around helplessly. “Miss,” he pleads, on deaf ears, staring at her collapsed form, frozen. A little time passes, as he struggles to figure out what to do. 

Eventually, a shopkeeper walks by, turning and peaking into the alleyway with concern. Barely makes a half effort to step in front and block the view of the unconscious woman, but he’s too small and too slow for it to do any real good.  

“Ah,” The stranger says, not even seeming to notice this attempt “She having one of those again?” 

“‘Xcuse me?” Barely says, shyly. 

“Don’t worry about it son,” the man says, rolling up his sleeves. “You didn’t do nothin’ wrong. Laryan gets this spells every time she gets nervous. Must be havin’ a hell of a night.” He sighs. “Help me carry her back to the mart, and get a cold towel, she’ll be up in no time” he says, grabbing her by the shoulders. 

“Of course” Barely says, shaken up but glad to be of help, the rust hurries to grab Miss Laryan’s legs, following the man in front of him’s lead into a convenience store, it’s neon sign spelling out the word DUNNERMART. They brought her over to a bench, and set her down. The young man catches his breath, shaking out his arms. 

“What’s your name, kid?” The shopkeep asks. 

“I’m Barely, Mister.” He answers. 

“I’m Dunner” The man grins. “You want a milkshake?” 

Barely pauses, as if, caught up in the excitement of it all, he hadn’t realized he didn’t have much to drink or eat today. 

“I don’t have any money” He says. 

“First one’s on the hive” Dunner says, turning around to make one in the machine. 

“Thank you, Mister” Barely says, gnawing furiously on his necklace, leaning on the balls of his feet. He wasn’t used to such graciousness, especially from a highblood. The man hands him the drink. Barely pauses, wondering if it would be safe to question him. 

“What’s going on down the road?” The detective says, baiting him by feigning ignorance. 

“Someone broke into the government office,” Dunner shrugs. 

“Any idea who?” 

“Beats me- I wasn’t here all yesterday. Didn’t see anybody suspicious. I hear the cowpokes are fightin’ over somethin’ or other.” He shrugs.

The kid glanced downwards. None of this information was new to him. 

“You know anything about a land sale in town?” He asks. 

“Nope,” He answers. “What’s it to you?” 

“Nothin’” Barely says, sipping his milkshake. “Just curious.” 

“Stay safe, kid,” Dunner says. “Shouldn’t be messin’ around about things so serious at your age. Be careful” he continues. “Where you put your trust.” 

Does he imagine it, or do the shopkeeps eye’s flicker over to the unconscious Laryan for a moment?

“Of course, I’ll be careful Mister Dunner” Barely says, a guarded expression crossing him. 

The shopkeep heads to the back of the shop, presumably to go work on something or other, and he’s replaced by a bored looking cashier. Barely continues to sip his drink at a snail's pace frowning. He’s nearly an inch from finishing it before Miss Laryan’s eye’s flicker open. The rust’s gaze goes to the cashier glued to her phone, and then back to his friend. 

“Stay calm, Miss,” he whispers. And she freezes. “I think you’re innocent- those officials shouldn’ta been workin’ you to the bone in the firs’ place.” 

“What should I do?” She mutters back in hushed tones. “I can’t return the papers, I still can’t find em” She chokes. 

“I think you and I should go up to Shercattle, and visit your friend of a friend.” Barely says. 

“Barely,” She pleads. “I told you to not go pokin’ around about the cattle.” 

“Not about that” He retorts. “I just think it might be smart for you to skip town a couple a nights” He says. 

The woman pales. “Okay” She squeaks. 

“Someone else,” He says. “Was lookin’ real hard for those papers, and I don’t think they found em. You don’t tear apart an office like that if the papers are right on the desk peakin outta a wallet.” The rust continues, thinking out loud. 

“You think so?” Miss Laryan whispers. 

“Yes, Miss, I do.” Barely whispers, determined. “I wanna know who wanted em that bad and why.” He asserts, offering a hand to the woman. 

“So how about on that long train ride, you tell me-” He says, pulling the woman to her feet, picking up his notepad. “In as much detail as you can- every single thing that happened from when you closed last morning til you met me at the station this evening” He says, his sunflower necklace making slow circles in his mouth as he and Miss Laryan walked outside, as the detective concedes that just maybe, just maybe, 

This wallet thing might be a mystery of the scale he was interested in after all.