Soooooo Saturday I met Gareth David-Lloyd…this was quite an adventure I have to say and I just felt like I needed to share my experience and the thoughts going through my mind.
I totally knew this was going to happen. I’ve been planning this little trip to Huntsville for a couple of months now and was totally ready to shell out an obscene amount of money to meet this guy. I just so happened one day to be curious enough to see if Gareth was coming close-by anytime soon. I kind of figured it would be a stretch, but lo and behold, Gareth was coming to Huntsville. To my dismay, it was a Doctor Who convention and he was arriving as a Torchwood guest and I literally know nothing about these shows. I probably watched one episode of Doctor Who a long time ago and then tried a Torchwood episode shortly after my decent into Solavellan hell just because…reasons…
I’ve been planning this, worried because of my lack of knowledge of the Whoverse or whatever the hell people call it, unsure of whether this convention was going to be massive or tiny, and just general freaking out over getting to meet Gareth. With my print in hand, my boyfriend and I went all the way up to his grandparent’s house just for me to meet this one guy at a convention that I knew nothing about.
Unsure of how long this convention was going to take, I told my boyfriend ahead of time that he should probably be ready to wait a while. I had never been to this convention before, but all other conventions I had gone to had a lot of waiting involved. He ended up having one of his friends that were close by drive 30 minutes over to the mall where this hotel was located so that they could play card games. I walk in the front door, scared as all get out with this universe that I had no idea about.
I went up to the marked tables and literally had my badge in hand within 2 minutes. I was the ONLY ONE IN LINE. I saw people, sure, but there was like no one around. Granted, I had gotten there at like 11:30, so the con was already like halfway over for the day, but still! I expected to wait in line for at least a few minutes. I looked at the clock and saw that I had apparently prepared too much and was now an hour early before Gareth was supposed to be signing stuff. UGH!!! I thought, well, I don’t know anything about this fandom other than Daleks, the phone booth, and then that Matt Smith is apparently the best doctor (I have no idea what who this person is but I apparently know his name), but I guess since I have time to spare I may as well go to the Vendor room and Artist Alley. I went to where the Vendor room was, literally passing maybe 2 or 3 people.
This was probably the smallest Vendor room I had ever seen. There were like maybe 10 tables and was filled with maybe like 20-30 people including the people running the booths. People everywhere asking me to enter this raffle and do this doohicky and I’m just like “haha no thanks” and walked away nervously. In under 2 minutes, I had already looked at everything. In another 2 minutes, I had already looked through the Artist Alley. I still had so much time before meeting Gareth. I decided that I should at least go over and see if he was around, I could just sit there and be creepy and stare at him for an hour, worst case scenario.
I went over to the room where the signings were happening and he was already sitting down doing autographs. I felt my heart jump in my throat and walked over to him. Once again, there was no line. I literally became the second person in line immediately. I paid the lady sitting next to him, already aware that I was spending another $40 just to get him to sign my print and felt my heart start racing. Then as the people in front of me left, my hands started shaking. I started to fumble to get the picture out of the protective thing I bought and he said hi to me. Dude, you guys, I felt my face burn bro. That accent was to die for. Literally, I could have just passed out. I told him that I was actually a huge Dragon Age fan and really appreciated all the work that he had done. When I showed him the @nipuni print that I had brought for him to sign, he absolutely gushed over it. He just kept talking about how pretty it was and then quickly signed it for me. I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking, but he was just so nice and then shook my hand. I told him that I had literally no knowledge of Doctor Who or Torchwood and literally just came to this convention to get his autograph. He was just so cute and I just couldn’t take my eyes off of him.
I’ve gotta do something about vibrating when I get all nervous around people I like. It’s a sickness and I have no idea what I have to do to get rid of it. It’s embarrassing and I could just feel myself turning beet red while I was standing in front of him. It was so bad!!!!
So yeah, that was my ridiculously long and stupid story about what a dork I am and all this trouble that I went through literally just to meet this adorable cutie. $100 for this like 30 second moment was well spent.
Immediately after this, I started getting sick and am still sick. Gareth got me sick by being too adorable. I’ve decided. Now, I gotta go die somewhere…
A/N: THIS IS 7000 WORDS LONG, WTH! Hi babes, I know this took far too long but it’s here now. I was actually crying earlier thinking about how this is the ending, the final chapter, the last part. Thus far this is my favorite fic I have written. I wanted to thank @writing-obrien for helping me soooo much with this series. She’s always there when I need to bounce around ideas or get motivated or just talk. She is my best friend and I love her and this series would be nothing without her. I also wanted to thank everyone that has read this and loved it! I’m so grateful for you ! I think that all I have to say so thank you so much, I love you so much okay? bye !
Warning: Uhhhhh it wouldn’t be an ending without some smut right? There’s also so alcohol use so yeah.
the prompt: can you possibly do a Taeyong scenario in which you had promised to make dinner to him but you thought you were running late and hurried and cut your hand and everything went wrong and he was running REALLY late and when he came he saw you sleeping weirdly on the couch and idk about the rest.
author note: this is a lot calmer than the Jaehyun one, so please enjoy.
Summary: Dan is a robber who steals valuable objects nearly every night. When he goes into a flat decorated with plants and stuffed animals, he can’t seem to keep himself away. Dan’s not used to pretty boys stealing things of his own; especially when they steal his heart. Word Count: 3590 Warnings: stealing, breaking/entering, cussing A/N: I’d like to thank my roommate @sourmojo for giving me the idea to write this fic (based off of this song) and also @insanityplaysfics for being my lovely beta. That summary is the worst fucking summary I’ve ever written but I love this idea so much and I hope you do too! Please don’t ask me to write a sequel, i will write one if i end up feeling like it, but as of right now, it doesnt seem very likely. Read it on AO3!
It was something that Dan was proud of, as fucked up as it was. He just couldn’t get enough of everything about it; the thrill, the little prizes he got out of it, hell even the news broadcasters. No matter how hard he tried to get away from his lifestyle, he always ended up going back. His own addiction, his very own little secret. Besides, it’s not like anybody was getting hurt in his escapades. Just himself and his own conscious, but that he could deal with.
So what if he broke into houses and stole objects he found compelling? They were just objects and humans should be able to get over the loss of something so materialistic. Rings, money, antiques. Stealing those didn’t harm anybody. In fact, they should be grateful for Dan. He helped people realise that family was far more important than items.
Dan didn’t necessarily know how he got to this point in his life, where he just went to other people’s houses to steal meaningless crap, but he couldn’t be more thankful. One day he was just a silly little teenager trying to be edgy by sneaking into places he wasn’t supposed to be in, and the next moment he was a twenty-five year old man breaking and entering all to steal that new movie he’s been wanting for weeks. Some would say that he was stupid for risking going to jail just for a movie, but Dan didn’t give a single fuck.
this would be the Holster/Esther Shapiro 6k Valentine’s Fic literally no one asked for. enjoy <3
Valentine’s Day 2013 –
Holster doesn’t believe in Valentine’s Day. It’s some
Hallmark Holiday based on a Christian saint of some sort, and it’s an excuse to
be sickeningly sweet with someone you love, and a good day to have just dumped
your significant other the night before so you can go to the single’s bars and
get wasted. For Holster, it’s always been a day to gorge on chocolate. It
always was in Juniors and he doesn’t see any reason to change now that he’s in
“What are you doing for Valentine’s Day, bro?” Ransom asks,
buttoning one of his nice shirts and holding up a couple different ties to
judge their relative colour.
“Being bitter,” Holster says. “What are you doing?”
First of all, we’re sorry for disappearing like we did. After the Irene Adler case, we decided that we were owed a little break (read: Sherlock woke me up the morning after the case was concluded by throwing my suitcase on the bed and pulling our clothes from the closet, announcing that we were leaving 221B for a while). By the time I realised it wasn’t for a new case, we were already halfway to Sussex. Apparently, the Holmes family has a cottage here, but, unfortunately, the wifi is nonexistent.
So, here we are now, on our own, with the sea air surrounding us and the sound of seagulls as our alarm clock.
Anyway, Irene Adler. She’s… well, I can’t disclose too much information due to its sensitivity, but I can safely say that Sherlock has saved the day, yet again. When Irene showed up at our flat, she was in danger. She had faked her death and hid her phone with Sherlock, to get away from those who were out to get her and coming back endangered not only her, but her girlfriend Kate as well. That phone was the only thing she had to use to keep them safe. Page after page of sensitive information, all locked away with a code only she knew. Not even Sherlock could figure it out.
And she used it. She used Sherlock to crack a code (I can’t divulge in this further, so don’t ask) and Irene sent it on. To Moriarty. She had been working for him, all this time! And we fell for it.
It was a close call, but Sherlock figured it out. God, he was brilliant. The moment he realised what the code was, I couldn’t believe that he even real. I know we’ve both said on multiple occasions that not everything is about me… but this was. She must have changed her password when she met us, so it spelled JOHN. Unbelievable!
Sherlock was down, beaten, ridiculed and he managed to come out on top anyway. It’s over now. Irene Adler has disappeared from our view - although Sherlock does not appear too worried about her wellbeing. I’ll be happy if she stays away, to be honest.
But enough about her. That’s over and done with. On the one hand, I’m grateful to her. Without her, I never would have - well, I’m not sure how long it would have taken for Sherlock and I to tell each other how we felt without her interference. I’m currently basking in the sun, laptop on my lap, and I’m typing one-handed because next to me is an amazingly brilliant and gorgeous man, scrolling through his phone whilst holding my hand with his free one.
So… ta for that, Irene Adler. And good luck to you, wherever you are.
They told us things would be
tougher after the war, but I didn’t know they mean quite like this.
Cold metal, slipping in my sweaty
palms. Ears ringing. My face flecked with powder, but it’s still hot, so hot,
it burns like ash.
And then of course the man before
me, face forever frozen like I just called him something rude, hand pressed to
the hole in his lungs as he goes down.
Let me explain.
I was always like this, see, not
the killing part, but the part that led up to it. The part where I found me a
bone and gnawed and gnawed at it like a dog possessed. “Annalisa,” Pa would
say, that tone both scolding and proud, “maybe it’s time to give it a rest,
huh? Worry about something else for a while.” But when I found me a mystery, I
clung to it, until one of us was solved.
Usually it was as simple as finding
where our downstairs neighbor’s good pearls got off to (her husband’s bookie)
or who’d gotten the landlady’s daughter in a family way. In the war, I made a
bit of a name for myself, nothing official, of course, but the cops came to me
all the same. Their best detectives had been poached by the OSS and so on, and
they just needed a hand dealing with the vagrants who’d somehow slipped the
draft—purse thieves and smugglers and all the other shits you find down south
of Houston or lurking around the docks. Pa’d already gone to Europe then, so
there was no one but old Mrs. Dougherty to tell me I couldn’t, and she’d turn
her glass eye to anything as long as her cooking sherry stayed stocked. I solved everything from break-ins to
embezzlers, and didn’t feel a bit bad about a single one of the creeps and
goons I got locked up, even though I didn’t get much credit (or any at all).
Bianca, though … Bianca I felt
bad about. But then I’m jumping ahead.
When the war ended and the men came
home—though some of ‘em, like Pa, made the trip in a wooden box—they warned me
it was going to be hard. The best thing I could do was find myself a man,
young, not too shellshocked, who was so damn happy to be home and alive that he
wouldn’t mind what a boatload of trouble I was. Mrs. Daughtery couldn’t watch
me forever, and I was old enough I didn’t need her by then. I tried dating,
thought admittedly not hard, but I’d have had more fun sitting across the diner
booth from a box of soap. Every guy was a crossword and I’d solved ‘em by the
time the waitress brought our main course.
What I wanted was work. Real work.
Work I could hang a shingle on, and get paid enough to live, not just to buy
myself something at the soda fountain. I needed to rent a room of my own before
I wore out all my excuses with our landlady, before the government checks ran
But the cops suddenly didn’t want
me, at least not at any price I could afford to take. So I pawned my grandpa’s
old pocket watch and took out a newspaper ad.
Mostly it was other women who came
to me. We were all in the same boat; we’d had a purpose for a few years, were
building a career, then just as quickly it was gone. I saw housewives who were
going stir crazy, imagining murderers next door, their husbands’ affairs, even
a neighbor who didn’t smile at them just right. They weren’t always wrong, but
it was quick, easy work, and that never paid the bills. Not that they had much
to give me on their own, scraping together nickels from their grocery money on
the sly, but I took the jobs anyway. We were in this together, after the war.
Then Bianca stormed into my world
and there’s no way I was going to end up unscathed.
I don’t see a US airdate for the new Justice League Action episode “E. Nygma, Consulting Detective” yet. I hope we get an airdate soon, since we JLA fans in America get the episodes aired weeks later (and less respect from Cartoon Network). I can’t take all this waiting!