#im getting money back for both train rides though because both failed so hard they went over the limit to get refund eligibility

[cali]

i went to italy for 10 days to visit my girlfriend and it was the one of the most fun times ive ever had in my life and now i miss it so so much, and right now i need to sit in a train station parking lot til 5am and i wont be home til 9 so um ughhhh

[heyyyalexa]

A Time Of Change - Chapter One - The Arrival

Title: A Time Of Change

Chapter: One- The Arrival

Summery: Ava Bradford is a former Behavioural Analyst of the Miami Police Department. After the events of the past force her to journey to England and take up a job away from the family she had created, she tries to start anew. At Scotland Yard, she struggles to keep to herself and her life under control, as her nightmares from her past come to haunt her once again.

Author: Alexa @alex-awesome1023

Words: 1986

Characters/Relationships: OC x Sherlock

Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, Past Physical Abuse, Nightmares

Author’s Notes: Ok so this is my first ever Fanfic yay!!! Im super excited for you guys to read it. I’ve had long night and worked super hard with the help of Maddy and her wonderful patience and editing, she has been a super awesome teacher through his entire thing and a great new friend. Please let me know how you guys like it and what you think. There will be an update later on in the week of the next chapter. Love you guys!!!!! 

- Alexa 

Hey guys! This is Alexa’s very first fic and we are both super excited for you guys to see it!! Please let us know what you think about it by leaving us an ask in our inbox @sherlockxreader or even just reblogging it to another blog! We love hearing what you guys think of our fics so let us know!!!

- Maddy

Original Character Ava Bradford inspired by Zoey Deutch. Enjoy!❤

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All I could hear was the pads of my feet smacking on the pavement as I ran. I felt the rain drops hit my face like daggers against my skin, the cold evening air shocking my throat and lungs as I inhale deeper, faster, harder. Holding my side, I try to stop the blood coming from the throbbing gash I had. Feeling the warm blood seep out of the exposed wound, I press my hand closer against my side to stop the free flowing surge of sticky blood, but wasn’t helping anymore. I ignore the ache in my muscles, the fog in my brain and I tell myself to keep going. I knew he was right behind me. My heart beats frantically, all or nothing. Fail and my whole body will pay the price, run and the damage is limited mostly to my shins and knees. My lungs and heart were pumping, but the air didn't seem to be enough as I sprinted forward, panic trembling into my exhausted limbs. I can hear his heavy steps pounding against the asphalt. His groans of infuriation. He's right behind me. I feel his hand on my shoulder...

You jerk awake as the train stopped. Your heart was pounding, your mind empty, clear of distractions, as if a needle of adrenaline had been emptied into your chest. You unconsciously reach for your locket around your neck, rubbing it between your forefinger and thumb.

Telling yourself that it was just a dream, you feel your breathing and heart rate begin to steady. You looked out the window, realizing where you were. Westminster, London. Your decision to move here was sudden but you were looking for something and ended up here. You had a purpose to fulfil, or at least you were trying to find one. Moving here was your first step to finding what you had been looking for a long time, what you were missing. The plus side was that there was a job opening and you had family here. Your Aunt Martha moved here after her husband faced the death penalty and you hadn't seen her in a few years so you were excited to see her.

You gathered your things and headed towards the metallic doors of the train. You stepped out of Westminster Station, filling your lungs with the London air. It was a cold, muggy and damp kind of air but it was better than the hot humidity of Florida. Determination drew itself on your face and you straighten your back and your eyes, though set, were still soft in their emerald brightness.

You pulled out the small piece of paper where you had written the phone number and street address you had gotten from your Aunt when she mentioned that one of her friends was trying to rent a flat. Even getting a special deal out of it because she had talked her friend into giving it to you half price if you could pay the first couple weeks rent up front.

With your luggage filled with the essentials, which pretty much meant that you stuffed everything you owned into a duffel bag and a rolling suitcase, you walked aimlessly around London. With your earbuds still in from the train ride you decided to turn up the volume, taking in the sights a bit and dwelling in your own little day dream for a little while. You were in London, finally. You could check it off your bucket list of places to go.

It was colder than you had expected but you found yourself relishing in the new climate. As a kid you loved the idea of winter and snow but you always got cold easily and had to bundle up in many layers to keep the weather at bay. You still do in fact. You had on your white, scoop neck t-shirt, covered by an oversized white knit sweater and your dad’s old denim jacket, which never failed to give you warmth. Paired with your thickest leggings and you favorite converse with polka dot laces, you managed not to shiver in the cool air of the city. (Picture not mine)

You had walked for a quite some time, taking pictures of everything that stood out to you in the foreign land and, when you stopped for some food at a nearby cafe, you looked to your watch, seeing that your inner wanderlust traveler had caused you to lose track of time. You began to head in the direction of where you thought you had come from, not looking at where you were walking as you used your phone as a GPS, until you were knocked over by a man running in the opposite direction. You fell to the ground and dropped your phone onto the pavement with a harsh sounding clatter.

"Ow!" You felt pain radiate from your arse and your face was twisted with it.

"Oh gosh, are you alright? I'm terribly sorry!" You heard the man ask from above you, his accent evident in his voice.

"Oh no don't be, I was the one not paying attention." You said as you stood back up looking down at your phone, facedown on the pavement. Wincing at the sight, you went to bend over to pick it up, but he beat you to it.

"Oh here, let me." He leaned down and retrieved your phone with delicate looking hands. His short brown hair was slicked back and his suit was obviously tailored expertly, the expensive fabric clinging nicely to his body. Great, I just had to walk into someone important.

"Oh um... Thanks." Your eyes narrowed suspiciously at his politeness, not quite used to people being so nice, but this was London, not Florida where the beaches were littered with cranky, old people in retirement who complain about the young folk and their habits.

He stood and looked at your phone, his dark eyes flickering to yours briefly. A feeling you weren't quite sure of stirred in your gut however you pushed that aside, anxious about the state of your phone.   

"Is it bad?" You questioned, scrunching up your nose and bracing yourself for the fact that you might have to buy a new phone, or a least repair the one you had, with the little money you had on your person.

He twisted the phone in his hands a few times before looking at you with a coy smirk upon his face. He handed you the phone.

"Not even a scratch." The Irish accent think in his voice.

"Oh thank God." Relief flooded through your body as you looked over the device and grasped the phone to your chest.

"I hope your first day in London wasn't ruined." You raised an eyebrow in suspicion. Did he find me? Already? Your eyes shifted as you felt your heart skip with anxiety but mentally, you shake your head and the thought away.

You looked down at your shoes and with a light laugh, peeked up at him through your lashes, a coy smile on your face. "Is it that obvious?"

He gestured toward your luggage. I really was stupid and paranoid for no reason, there’s no way he would have found me. Not this fast anyway. With a slightly mysterious grin and glint in his eye, he answered. "Well... I just know how to look at people."  

"Clearly. And you must be someone important, judging by your Westwood suit and uppity demeanor." You smirked, crossing your arms over your chest. You could tell he thought your comment clever by the way he raised his brow and curled his lips into a cheeky smile.

"Oh someone who knows their stuff, I like you already."

Stretching out your hand you introduced yourself. "Ava. It’s a pleasure make your acquaintance… um…"

“Jim." Taking your hand in his, he kissed your knuckles, at which you grinned and raised a brow It was obviously meant to be charming yet you saw through his mask when the corner of his lip twitched ever so slightly. So slightly that anyone else would have missed it entirely however, you weren’t just anyone else. Shaking your head, you cleared your mind. You weren’t working yet.

"Oh a lady-killer as well, uh?" You playfully ask.

"You have no idea. Are you here on business or pleasure?" He let go of your hand and stood straight again, his head cocked in curiosity. Choosing to ignore his comment you answered.

"Oh um, both I guess." You had always wanted to live here and it just so happens that there was an opening in your choice of work, but he didn’t need to know that. You heard a distant voice in your head, repeating words of advice. Remember, become anonymous as much as possible. No loose ends. Remember why you're here.

You were brought out of your thoughts when this man’s, Jim’s, phone began to play Staying Alive. His face dropped as he retrieved it from his pocket and answered the call. Putting it on hold he looked at you with a forced smile. "Well I must get going. As an important person, I'm very busy. Welcome to London." He said as he waved goodbye.

"Thank you. Bye!" You replied as you waved back and turned to walk away, curiosity getting the best of you as you kept him in the corner of your eye. You walked casually towards a nearby statue and hid behind it, peeking around the corner to see him as he brought the phone to his ear. He listened to whatever the other person was speaking about before he spoke back. Your eyes widen as you see his mask fall into an expression you can't explain. The soft and mischievous look in his eyes he had moments before had vanished, and were instead replaced with a clenched jaw and eyes as hard as the pavement below his feet, a face you had seen before in the past. Sending you to the dark corners of your mind, back to a weak, little child in a cramped, dark room, crying for her Mommy.

You closed your eyes as the memory flashes across your vision, clenching your fists as you felt your eyes begin to heat up with tears and your heart beat harder and faster. As you try to slow your breath down, you reached for your mothers necklace hanging around your neck and repeated the words like a mantra to calm the nightmares. “Stop. It’s not real, you’re fine. It’s….. Not real, not…. Anymore.” You say with a small quivering voice, tears begin to drip down your wind-bitten cheeks. You weren't in that room anymore, you are stronger than this. You weren't that little girl anymore.

Looking at your feet and taking a deep breath you felt yourself start to calm down. You put your  earbuds back in and found a song, the song, to drown out your own thoughts. You found your mother's favorite, Blackbird by The Beatles. It had always calmed you as a kid whenever you got scared or sick. Sometimes she would use it as lullaby to put you to sleep. Turning the music up as loud as you could take it, you leaned on the statue and just listened, letting your heart synchronize with the beat of the music and calming you down.

You walked towards the main road when you could breathe steadily again and hailed a taxi. You took out an ear bud as you heard the driver ask about where you were heading. Looking at the piece of paper you said the street address of where your new life was waiting to begin "Westminster Baker Street. 220B Baker Street please."

You see his eyes light up in the mirror looking at me with excitement "Oh, that's the street where Sherlock Holmes lives!"

You raise an eyebrow in question. "Who?"