Requested by @newts-fan-case:
think about how hot this
would be: reader dry humping Sherlock to get him out of his mind palace, at
first he ignores it but when he can’t take it anymore he roughly takes her on
his way to his room (against the wall maybe) cause he is that desperate.
& anon: A fic where the reader is bored/horny while Sherlock is in his mind palace so the reader tries to get his attention by touching him and smutty stuff? & anon:
Will you do a sherlockxreader imagine where the reader goes down on him and then he returns the favor?? (I have a dirty mind 😂)
Pairing: Sherlock x reader
Word count: 1,625
Warnings: Smut - unprotected, oral (female and male receiving), rough, dry humping.
A/N: I couldn’t help but to mix the requests because I felt like they would fit and this… This was… Wow.
had been sitting at the exact same spot for two and a half hours. He didn’t
move, he didn’t flinch, and he definitely didn’t pay attention to (Y/N).
used to it, really, but that night was different. Maybe the hormones, or simply
her need to relieve stress, but she was horny as hell and she needed Sherlock
to get her off.
whispered flirtingly in his ear. The detective ignored her. “I need you to help
me with a little something.”
didn’t show any sign of concern about her innuendo. (Y/N) sighed heavily and
started rubbing his shoulders. He was sitting at his usual chair. “Sherlock…”
detective remained indifferent to her. (Y/N) was starting to get desperate, so
she did what she had never thought of doing. She got on his lap and started moving
her hips back and forth as she pressed herself tightly around one of his
So far, we’ve talked about the basic framework for a mind-palace, and the general idea behind setting one up. Today, we’re going to examine what goes in to actually internalizing information in a really concrete way. In order to do that, I thought I’d take you through one of my pet-projects that I work on when I’m bored - memorizing Pi.
NOTE: This is advanced. If you cannot use your mind palace to remember a shopping list, a list of 20 random words, AND the order of songs on your favorite album first, DO THAT FIRST. THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING. Everything after this will assume you are at a level where you are capable of the above tasks or better.
Now, since Pi is an infinite non-repeating decimal, you’ll never actually be able to get it memorized by virtue of the fact that there’s always one more number you haven’t stored away (for more information, please Google “Pi”). This element of futility makes Pi an excellent way to “score” your mnemonic prowess. You’ll never actually complete the job, but you’ll have a number to point to - you’ll be able to say, “I’ve stored X digits of Pi in my mind palace, and I know them backwards and forwards.” For me, that number is currently 78. Nothing crazy, but then, I’m not trying to win any competitions.
In order to memorize something like Pi, which (after you get passed the 3 and decimal point bit) is just a series of numbers, you’re going to need to figure out a few things in advance.
Chunk Size :
You’re obviously not going to make one gigantic image by just combining all of the numbers together. This is a bad idea for two reasons. The first is that, depending on how you set it up, your image might change dramatically with every new number you add. The second is that even if you didn’t hit the first problem, eventually your image would be so complex that you’d be better off just trying to remember the numbers in another way (perhaps a song?).
So what we’re going to do is “chunk” the number up into manageable pieces that we can memorize and add to a list. If you’re a world champion mnemonist, you may end up using a system that has 9 digit chunks. The system I use has 6 digit chunks (I’ll explain why in a bit). If you’re a total beginner, you can chunk 1 digit at a time too (of course, if you’re a total beginner, perhaps memorizing Pi shouldn’t be your first exercise).
We need to find a way to convert the data we want to remember (strings of numbers) into something our brain can more readily process (sensory-enriched images). So they question is, how do we convert a 6-digit string into an image?
Enter the PAO System (Person, Action, Object). The PAO system is one of the more popular systems for encoding any data that can be “chunked” into 3’s. Essentially, we convert the first chunk into an image, the second into an action, and the third into an object to create a little scene which we can place into one of the loci in our mind palace.
But wait, above I said that I use chunks of six digits at a time. Still true. We’re just going to use the PAO system to break it down further into chunks of 2. So for the purposes of this memorization exercise, the smallest mnemonic unit we’ll be using is a 2-digit number. Sound fair?
The setup required to create a successful PAO system is a tad daunting. For a 2-digit PAO system, basically you need to think of 100 people - numbered 00-99 - each one of these people has a unique action and object that is associated ONLY with them. They don’t have to combine to create a sensible image as long as you can use any one to get back to the number associated with the person.
Ex1: 14 - Albus Dumbledore, Blackening His Hand, Elder Wand
Ex2: 15 - Albert Einstein, Writing Equations, Chalkboard
Ex3: 92 - Napolean Bonaparte, Posing For A Painting, White Flag
The above examples make use of a technique called the Dominic System, which you can feel free to Google at your leisure. Essentially it maps numbers onto letters, turning all 2 digit numbers into sets of initials, which you can use to associate people with numbers.
This is not the only way - feel free to use direct association as well (Ex: “01” could be George Washington).
From there, all you need to know is the location of the number in the chunk. We’ll get there.
Now, once you’ve got all the legwork done, you’re ready to actually memorize the data (I know, so excited).
For this, we’ll use as our example the very first numbers in Pi. It begins, for those of you who do not know, as 3.141592653589793…….
STEP 1: Chunk by 6 - Since I already know Pi begins with a 3 and a decimal point, we’ll start just to the right of the decimal. This results in a 6-digit chunk of “141592.”
STEP 2: Apply the PAO - The PAO System breaks down our chunk into 3 pieces, resulting in “14 / 15 / 92” where the 14 is the person, the 15 is the action, and the 92 is the object.
So “14 / 15 / 92” becomes “Albus Dumbledore / Writing Equations / White Flag.”
From there, all you have to do is create a little scene out of the above phrases. For me, it’s an image of Albus Dumbledore furiously scribbling equations onto a large white flag, accidentally tearing it in places from his efforts.
Then, take that image you created and place it in your mind palace. Finally, just repeat the conversion step for every successive chunk of 6 numbers and add the resulting image to the next location in your mind palace.
As always, if you have any questions, need some clarification, or just want to add a suggestion, please feel free to leave a comment (or on Tumblr, just PM me). Happy memorizing!
A/N: This came to me and totally messed me up. So I thought… Why not write it down and share it so everyone else can be messed up like I was.
Summary: Soulmate AU where your soulmate’s first words are tattooed somewhere on your arms. You get your mark between 18 and 21. If you don’t meet, you age slower than average until you meet them. You continue aging at a normal rate once you meet them.
*Disclaimer: Obviously I don’t own anything except the AUish storyline.*
Summary: Y/N had gotten her mark the night before her 21st birthday. She thought she was going to be just like her other family members and meet her soulmate not long after. That wasn’t the case and if she was being truthful with herself… She didn’t want to meet them.
feel free to change the pronouns to make these fit !
❛ sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side. ❜ ❛ everything i said — it’s not real. i was just playing the game. ❜ ❛ punch me in the face. ❜ ❛ i always hear “punch me in the face” when you’re speaking, but it’s usually sub-text. ❜ ❛ do you just carry on talking when i’m away? ❜ ❛ brainy’s the new sexy. ❜ ❛ [ name ], put your trousers on! ❜ ❛ i would have you right here, on this desk, until you begged for mercy twice. ❜ ❛ i’ve never begged for mercy in my life. ❜ ❛ stop boring me & think. it’s the new sexy. ❜ ❛ [ name ], if it was the end of the world, if this was the very last night, would you have dinner with me? ❜ ❛ you wearing any pants? ❜ ❛ i am seriously fighting an impulse to steal an ashtray. ❜ ❛ people don’t really go to heaven when they die. they’re taken to a special room & burned. ❜ ❛ look at them. they all care so much. do you ever wonder if there’s something wrong with us? ❜ ❛ all lives end… all hearts are broken… caring is not an advantage… [ name ]. ❜ ❛ oh, you’re rather good. ❜ ❛ you’re not so bad. ❜ ❛ sex doesn’t alarm me. ❜ ❛ [ name ] always replies, to everything. he’s mr. punchline. he will outlive god trying to have the last word. ❜ ❛ i’m restoring balance to the universe. ❜ ❛ i dislike being outnumbered. it makes for too much stupid in the room. ❜ ❛ you got a photograph of me wearing that hat! ❜ ❛ smoking indoors. isn’t there one of those… one of those law things? ❜ ❛ we’re in a morgue. there’s only so much damage you can do. ❜ ❛ i’ve missed something, haven’t i? ❜ ❛ when i say run, run. ❜ ❛ vatican cameos! ❜ ❛ but, for the record, if anyone out there still cares, i’m not actually gay. ❜ ❛ oh, look at those cheekbones. i could cut myself slapping that face. ❜ ❛ well, we all do silly things. ❜ ❛ yes, if i wanted poetry, i’d read [ name ]’s emails to his girlfriends. much funnier. ❜ ❛ get out. i need to go to my mind palace. ❜ ❛ well, that was tedious! ❜ ❛ you’ve never been the most luminous of people, but as a conductor of light, you are unbeatable. ❜ ❛ i don’t have friends. i’ve just got one. ❜ ❛ did we just break into a military base to investigate a rabbit? ❜ ❛ every fairy tale needs a good old-fashioned villain. ❜ ❛ we’re just alike, you and i. except you’re boring. you’re on the side of the angels. ❜ ❛ how hard do you find it, having to say “i don’t know?” ❜ ❛ you’re insane. ❜ ❛ take my hand. ❜ ❛ how do you stalk a deer with a hat? what are you going to do, throw it? ❜ ❛ is it like some sort of death frisbee? ❜ ❛ oh, i may be on the side of the angels, but don’t think for one second that i am one of them. ❜ ❛ [ name ], please don’t feel the need to make conversation. it’s really not your area. ❜ ❛ nobody can fake being such an annoying dick all the time. ❜ ❛ this is my cab. you get the next one. ❜ ❛ [ name ] isn’t a man at all. he’s a spider. a spider at the center of a web. ❜ ❛ well, don’t let it get to you, i always feel like screaming when you walk into a room. in fact, so do most people. ❜ ❛ most people knock. but then, you’re not most people, i suppose. ❜ ❛ falling’s just like flying except there’s a more permanent destination. ❜
Note:So this is my first insert, even more, the first thing I wrote in English that wasn’t for school, so yeah, I might sound a bit weird but hey, who cares x) I just wanted to thanks @prettyxlittlexwriter for beta-reading it, like, thank you very very very much, I seriously owe you on that one, otherwise I probably would have never posted it and it would probably be exploding with mistakes, thanks :D If anyone wants some more, I could try, just ask me, I’ll see what I can do :)
“Get out. I need to go to my mind palace.”
And here he was again, kicking everyone
out because of his damn mind palace. He even did it in the winter. He once
expelled everyone out because they were ‘’too noisy’’. John
and Mrs Hudson actually had to come down and ask
me to give them asylum for the next hour or so… And I thought of moving into
the third floor flat… second thoughts, good thing I stayed in the basement.
“Y/N?” asked John.
Lost in my own thoughts I hadn’t moved an
inch. John was leaving the lab with Dr. Stapleton, explaining to her what was
actually going on and why she was being kicked out of her own lab that she had
so kindly lend us for our investigation.
“Don’t worry, I’ll wait for him.” I was the only one silent enough to stay when
he did this. It wasn’t the first time I saw him doing it, but it still was
something fascinating to witness. Standing there, his eyes still opened, blind
to the world, seeing things no one else could, even going as far as moving them
around his head.
If anyone walked in at this very moment, they would have seen him as a mad man
(which he probably was after all…), but his every movement still seemed to have
a certain precision and… grace. To me, it always appeared as if he led an
orchestra. His head turning left and right, hand shifting invisible things
through the air. I was hypnotized by his every moves.
Careful not to distract him, I slowly
moved around the table, getting behind him and squinting, trying to figure out
what he was thinking about. ‘’Liberty In’’… It had to be related to that
phrase, we were just talking about it right before he kicked everyone out.
Playing the game, I started digging though
all I could find related to the words Liberty In, making a list in a corner of
Liberty… Freedom to do what you want or to
go where you want? Liberty => Freedom? Statue of Liberty?
In… Expresses the situation of something
that is or appear to be enclosed or surrounded by something else? Expresses
inclusion or involvement? Inn? Inside? India? Indiana? Indonesia?
What if it was a place? The name of a company, a store, a market or a
restaurant maybe? But which country would… Oh!
At this very moment, the answer hit me. Of
course it was a place!
“Liberty In-” Sherlock murmured.
“-Indiana. H-O-U-N-D, it’s an
abbreviation…” I cried excitedly.
“… for a scientific project!” he finished. I smiled.
“Holmes, you are a bloody genius!”
Note (again): So yeah, that was it,thanks for reading, I hope you liked it ^_^
akira x a reader who had their heart changed in a major way by the PTs? good luck with the new blog as well. :)
Ah, thanks so much! I hope I manage to fit in with everyone. I’ve not been in the fandom too long :P [I’ve been a writer for a while though.] maybe got a bit carried away on this, so it’s like a proper little fic.
You were now inside Major Barrymore’s office, asking for access for an experiment. As instructed, John went to look in the labs.
“Oh, you know I’d love to. I’d love to give you unlimited access to this place. Why not?” He said sarcastically.
“It’s a simple enough request, Major.” Sherlock said, he hadn’t completely filled you in on his plan yet, but you knew he was using John as a guinea pig.
“I’ve never heard of anything so bizarre.” Barrymore growled.
“You’re to give me 24 hours, it’s what I’ve negotiated…” Sherlock began.
“Not a second more. I may have to comply with this order, but I don’t have to like it. I don’t know what the hell you expect to find here, anyway.” Major said.
“Perhaps the truth.” Sherlock said, now standing in the door to leave.
“About what?” Major asked before answering his own question. “Oh, I see. The big coat should have told me. You’re one of the conspiracy lot, aren’t you? Well, then, go ahead, seek them out, the monsters, the death rays, the aliens.”
“Have you got any of those?” Sherlock asked, after he had rolled his eyes. “Oh, just wondering.”
“A couple. Crash landed here in the ‘60s.” Barrymore began, leaning forward in his chair. “We call them Abbott and Costello. Good luck Mr. Holmes.” Sherlock rolled his eyes as he closed the door, you were right behind him.
You followed Sherlock into an empty lab with some monitors.
“Are you ever going to tell me what you’re up to?” You asked Sherlock.
“You’ll see soon.” He smirked and left the room. He returned in about 15 minutes, and you glanced down to one of the monitors. John was entering a lab with empty cages downstairs.
“And it seems our guinea pig is in place.” You said, looking to Sherlock. He raised an eyebrow at you.
“Oh come on, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what you’re doing. What did you put in his drink this morning?”
“Sugar. To see if that’s what made the two of us react in the Hollow.” Sherlock said, pulling out his phone and placing it above the microphone that projects to the lab John was in.
You switched on the lights to the lab and Sherlock played some hound-ish noises.
“You know if you’re wrong about his sugar think, John will probably kill you for putting him through this.” You said.
“I don’t doubt it, but right now it’s the only logical explanation.” Sherlock said.
You watched John react as any human would in this situation. Nothing so far to suggest anything out of the ordinary. Sherlock started to switch up the noises, and you cut his key card access. He tried to leave the room countless times, each time the machine read ‘Access Denied”. After his last attempt you cut the lights to the lab.
John pulled a flashlight out of his pocket, he rubbed his eyes. Clearly something was affecting him, but you still had doubts it was the sugar. John walked around the lab carefully inspecting the cages. Just as Sherlock had planned, John found the cage with the door bent back.
“You’re evil, you know that.” You said to Sherlock, jokingly. He raised an eyebrow and played growling noises through the speaker.
Sherlock’s phone began to ring and you picked it up to hand it to him.
“No, let it go to voicemail this time.” He said.
You watched John go into one of the cages, now terrified. Sherlock took the time to call John and put it on speakerphone.
“It’s here. It’s in here with me.” John whispered.
“Where are you?” Sherlock asked casually.
“Get me out, Sherlock, you’ve got to get me out.” John whispered. “The big lab, the first lab that we saw.”
John heard another growl. Sherlock motioned to you that he was going to go get him, and that I was to turn on the lights when he found him.
“John?” Sherlock asked into the phone.
“Now, Sherlock! Please!” John said.
“Alright, I’ll find you. Keep talking.” Sherlock said.
“I can’t it’ll find me.” John said, fear still in his voice.
“Keep talking. What are you seeing?” Sherlock asked.
“I don’t know, but I can hear it now.” John said.
“Can you see it?” Sherlock asked.
“No, I can’t.” John said, and you played more growling sounds. “I can see it.” John said suddenly.
Sherlock ripped the sheet off of the cage and as instructed, you switched the lights back on.
“Are you alright, John?” Sherlock asked, pulling John out of the cage.
“Jesus Christ! It was the hound!” John yelled, still spooked. “Sherlock, it was here, I swear it, it must… Did you see it? You must have!”
John was rambling like a loonatic.
“It’s alright, it’s okay now.” Sherlock said, calmingly.
“No, it’s not! It’s not okay!” John screamed. “ I saw it, I was wrong!”
“Hm, well, let’s not jump to conclusions.” Sherlock said.
“What?” John asked, angrily.
“What did you see?” Sherlock tested him.
“I told you, I saw the hound.” John argued.
“Huge red eyes, glowing?” Sherlock asked.
“Yes.” John said.
“No.” Sherlock said, smiling and shaking his head.
“What?” John asked.
“I made up the bit about glowing. You saw what you expected to see because I told you. You have been drugged. We have all been drugged.” Sherlock said.
“Drugged?” John asked, he looked as if he was about to take a swing at Sherlock, so you quickly rushed down to the lab just in case.
Sherlock and John were walking out of the lab when you arrived. Sherlock nodded to you, and you knew exactly where you all were headed.
The three of you stepped into a lab where Dr. Stapleton was inspecting a white rabbit on a table.
“Oh, back again? What’s on your mind this time?” She asked rudely and unwelcomingly.
“Murder, Dr. Stapleton. Refined, cold-blooded murder.” Sherlock said, as he flipped off the lights in the lab. Your eyes grew wide as you watched the rabbit begin to glow in the dark.
“Will you tell little Kirsty what happened to Bluebell, or shall I?” Sherlock growled.
“Okay. What do you want?” She gave in.
“Can I borrow your microscope?” He asked, and she looked surprised by his request.
She showed him to a place where he could work, and you and John stood to the side watching carefully.
He seemed to be inspecting the contents of some white crystalline substance on the glass slide. He was trying to figure out what was in it, with little notes written to the side of different atomic names.
John had his head resting on his palm, he seemed to still be trying to wrap his head around what had just happened to him.
“Are you two okay? You look a little peaky.” Dr. Stapleton said. John was still in shock, and you were sick.
You were feeling better but still threw up some this morning. At first you thought it was just some residual stomach flu, but now you were worried. Was this something else? You thought it might have been morning sickness, but you would have to have been pregnant for that to happen. But that’s not possible, you just had your period… three months ago. Your eyes flashed to Sherlock quickly, the possibility scaring you. Sherlock couldn’t be a father, he could barely be a boyfriend. You shook your head and stopped worrying about something that might not even be true. You’ll get tested when you get back into London.
“It was the GFP gene from a jellyfish, in case you’re interested.” She said.
“What?” You asked, snapping back into reality.
“In the rabbits.” She smiled, clearly proud of her work. You nodded.
“Why?” John asked.
“Why not? It was a mix-up anyway. My daughter ended up with one of the lab specimens, so poor Bluebell had to go.” She said simply.
“Your compassion is overwhelming.” You smiled sarcastically.
“I know. I hate myself sometimes.” She said, and she was serious.
A loud clang, caught your attention as you looked up to see Sherlock throwing the glass slide across the lab.
“It’s not there!” He yelled.
“Jesus!” You jumped.
“Nothing there! It doesn’t make any sense!” Sherlock yelled once more.
“What were you expecting to find?” Dr. Stapleton asked.
“A drug, of course. It has to be a drug. A hallucinogenic or a deliriant of some kind. There’s no trace of anything in the sugar.” He said, pacing.
“Sugar. That’s what you put in his drink.” You said, referring to John.
“Yes. A simple process of elimination. I saw the hound, saw it as my imagination expected me to see it. A genetically engineered monster. I think you saw it too Y/N, the drug must have had a stronger affect on you since you were sick and caused you to collapse. I knew I couldn’t believe the evidence of my own eyes, so there were seven possible reasons for it, the most possible being narcotics. Henry Knight saw it too, but you didn’t John. You didn’t see it. The three of us have eaten and drunk the exact same things since we got to Grimpen, apart from one thing.” Sherlock said.
“John doesn’t take sugar in his coffee.” You finished for Sherlock, and he looked to you proudly.
“I took it from Henry’s kitchen, his sugar. It’s perfectly all right.” Sherlock said, disappointed.
“But maybe it’s not a drug.” John offered.
“No, it has to be a drug. How did it get into our systems? How?” Sherlock asked, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “There has to be something. Something buried deep. Get out.”
“What?” Dr. Stapleton asked, she was just as confused as you were.
“Get out, I need to go to my mind palace.” Sherlock said, you rolled your eyes.
“Your what?” She asked.
“He’s not going to be doing much talking for a while so we may as well go.” John said, as you stood to leave.
“No, Y/N, you stay.” Sherlock said.
“Fine.” You sighed, knowing that if you agreed quickly you would spare yourself the long explanation.
You sat down in front of Sherlock and propped your head up on your hands. He was looking at you with that blank stare and you knew he wasn’t really watching.
After a few minutes you felt yourself drifting off. You couldn’t have been out for more than 15 minutes before Sherlock shook you awake.
“I’ve got it let’s go!” Sherlock said, dragging you out of your chair and out of the lab. He began to run, and you followed.
“Sherlock!” You yelled, running to catch up.
You found John and Dr. Stapleton and he began to explain.
He led you two Major Barrymore’s empty office. John stood guard at the door.
“Project HOUND. I must have read about it, stored it away. An experiment in a CIA facility in Liberty, Indiana.”
Dr. Stapleton sat down at the computer and tried to login and search HOUND, but the files were classified and she didn’t have access to them.
“There has to be an override.” You offered.
“Yeah, but that would be Major Barrymore’s.” Stapleton said. You looked around the office looking for any clues.
“Describe him to me.” Sherlock said.
“Uh, he’s a bloody martinet, a throw-back, the sort they’d have sent into Suez.” Stapleton said.
“Good, excellent, old-fashioned. Traditionalist. Not the sort to use his children’s name as a password. He loves his job, proud of it and this is work related. So what’s at eye level?” Sherlock said, sitting and spinning in his chair.
“Lots of Thatcher biographies.” You noticed.
“So that’s the password?” Stapleton asked.
“No, with a man like Major Barrymore only first name terms would do.” Sherlock said, beginning to type in the code.
Margaret, he typed but you grabbed his shoulder before he pressed enter.
“Try Maggie. Trust me just do it.” You said, and he did as you said.
“Override accepted.” The computer read. You smiled and Sherlock raised an eyebrow to you.
Sherlock began scrolling through all of the information. The names of the workers on the project were listed, and together their last name initials were HOUND.
You looked at some of the photos on the screen and they almost made you sick.
“Oh my god.” You said, turning your face.
“Project HOUND. A new deliriant drug which rendered its users incredibly suggestible. They wanted to use it as an anti-personnel weapon, to totally disorientate the enemy using fear and stimulus. But they shut it down and hid it away in 1986.” Sherlock read.
“Because of what it did to the subjects they tested it on… And what they did to others.” You said.
“Prolonged exposure drove them insane. Made them almost uncontrollably aggressive.” Sherlock said.
“So someone’s been doing it again? Carrying on the experiments?” John asked, and it was the only possible explanation.
“Attempting to refine it, perhaps. For the last 20 years.” Sherlock said. John asked who, and you thought for a moment.
“Cell phone.” You said, thinking out loud.
“What?” John asked.
“It didn’t struck me at the time, but cell phone isn’t something you hear in England too often. It’s mobile. Someone would have only said cell phone if they were used to being in America, or spent a lot of time there.” You said, pointing to someone standing in the back of the photo. Sherlock had been eyeing him too.
“He gave us his number in case we needed him.” Sherlock said.
“Oh, my god, Bob Frankland.” Stapleton said, shocked. “But Bob doesn’t even work on… he’s a virologist. This is chemical warfare.”
“That’s where he started though.” You stated. “And he’s never lost the certainty, the obsession that that drug really could work.”
“Nice of him to give us his number. Let’s arrange a little meeting.” Sherlock said, pulling the number from his coat pocket.
As Sherlock was about to make the call, John’s phone rang. He didn’t seem to recognize the number, but he answered cautiously anyway.
“Who’s this?” He asked.
“It’s Louise Mortimer.” He said to us. “”Louise, what’s wrong?”
“Where are you? Alright, stay there. We’ll get someone to you.” John said, as the call ended.
“Henry?” You asked.
“He’s attacked her.” John said.
“Gone?” Sherlock asked, and John nodded.
“There’s only one place he’ll go to. Back to where it all started.” Sherlock said, now raising his phone to his ear.
“Lestrade? Get to the Hollow. Dewer’s Hollow, now! And bring a gun.” Sherlock spoke commandingly into his phone.
op-norbury.org — thanks to @sherlock-is-my-pressure-point, we’re working on creating a site via firebase hosting instead of wordpress for now (because firebase is free, haha). I should secure the domain in the next few days (p.s. if you’d like to contribute actual dollars to pay for the domain please message me directly.)
What we will need to launch op-norbury.org – contents, contents, contents! Here’s the site outline in case you didn’t see the previous post:
Holmes/Watson since 1887 - Queer reading in ACD canon - Homosexuality in Victorian literature
Queerbaiting in BBC Sherlock - Romantic Tropes used in Sherlock - Queer Coding in Film applied in Sherlock - Examining BBC/Heartwood Marketing Tactics (including Creator quotes) - Meta Collections: (this is where we need to be very specific - how did the narrative/filmmaking techniques/marketing lead fans to believe the eventual culmination of Sherlock/John’s romance – links to resources in the sections above)
Calling for content creators, admins, researchers to generate submissions, and web developers to update and maintaining the site!
I’ve started a google group so we can coordinate directly –apology in advance that the UI of google group is atrocious, but I figured it’s likely the most accessible (only required a Gmail address) – if you have other suggestions please let me know. I’ve created posts highlighting tasks and positions needed - please check them out and sign up via reply.
Please message me so I can add you to the group, let’s get to work.
Got some excellent feedback on Chapter 6, so I’m happy that people are enjoying the series. All chapters are in the links here, in case you want to read the previous six chapters. We’re nearing the finale, and although we may be nearing the end of this particular story, that doesn’t mean that this is the end of my Mind Palace AU. *hint hint* Please enjoy Chapter 7! (Btw if you haven’t figured it out by now, yes, this is a Pinecest fic. If it’s not your cup of tea, then please respect my writing and refrain from reading the rest of my fic, although I must say that I keep Pinecest to a minimum in this story.) [Word Count: 3723 words]
“Y/N?” You hear someone call out as they continue to knock on your door. You walk up and open it and see a familiar face push past you.
“Sherlock? What are you doing here?” You ask, closing the door behind him.
“I need a place to stay,” he says bluntly. He looks as if he’s deep in thought, but he also looks slightly broken.
“Why? What’s happened?”
“I died,” that’s it. That’s all you get.
“What are you talking about? Obviously, you didn’t die,” you say, pointing out the fact that he’s standing right in front of you.
“No, no, no, no. I faked my death. Yesterday,” he says, going back to his ‘mind palace’ immediately after. Sherlock being Sherlock, you decide not to question it.
“Ok…how long will you be staying, then?” You ask, slightly afraid of what the answer might be.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe a week. Maybe a month,” he stops pacing for half a second and looks at you cautiously, “maybe a year,” there’s the answer you were fearing.
“A year?” You say, disbelieve evident in our voice. “Why so long? What about John? Can’t you stay with him?” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair before walking towards you.
“Please, Y/N. I know it’s a lot to ask, but you have to trust me. I can’t go back to London, not now. Not after what happened…” He trails off but that’s all he needs to say.
“Alright, Sherlock,” you say, letting out an exasperated breath. If Sherlock was coming to your door with this big of a request, you know it had to be important, “but you have to do your share of chores,” he nods and lets out a sigh of relief.