Which would you choose? Being with your soulmate for 1 year and then they die, or choosing to not meet them at all.
If a prisoner (in jail) wrote a letter to you, Would you write back?
If you could have a twin, Would you?
If you had to give up Your arms or your legs -which would it be?
If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know?
If you had to pick 1 or 2 qualities that you have had since you were a child -what would they be.
If you could see your death Would you want to see it?
If you could lose all your memories and start fresh, would you choose to do it? Say the age you start fresh would be at 15 years old.What about at 20?
Would you rather have an unrequited love for 5 years or feel no love for 5 years?
Would you ever give 5 years of your life To extend the life of a grandparent?
Would you rather have a father that is in jail or not know who your father is?
How many more Failures can you take?
If you could pick a country that most represents you, which would it be?
If you could be on a dating reality TV show -would you?
Would you choose to look in mirrors all day, or never look in a mirror again?
What is the first thing you look at when you look at yourself in the mirror?
If you could never again think one thing what would it be?
If you had to be sick for the rest of your life would you choose something that kills you quickly & painfully, or bearably but slowly
If you could redo your first kiss would you: a) choose to do it and b)
-change the person
-change your age
-change the location
-change your/their skill level
Do you think more people like(d) you now or when you were younger?
If you could change your name what would you change it to?
If you could change your name what would you change it to?
Have you ever been attracted to a friend’s parents?
What would you do if your life was stuck on replay, and you continuously relived one day?
What is something you’ve always wanted to do but never done because it doesn’t “fit” with what people expect/are used to from you? (now consider doing it!)
If anything could happen to/through your tumblr site what is the one thing you wish would?
How many times have you wanted to ask someone out but haven’t done it because you *weren’t sure if your feelings were strong enough*?
If you are sick and will die in 1 yr, And you found your soulmate (and they know they are as well). Would you:
A)even tell them you are sick, and B) be with them for the year, or break up with them
What characteristic makes you attractive to the opposite sex/potential partners? (Do one physical and one personality)
If you had to choose between getting married to your soulmate and continuing a super successful career -which would you choose?
Would you rather settle or be alone?
Have you ever questioned Your sexual orientation?
How close and warm is your family? Do you feel your childhood was happier than most other people’s?
What roles do love and affection play in your life?
Would you like to be famous? For what?
Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say? Why?
If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?
Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common.
Would you (do you) ever save 50% of your income?
What do you think you haven’t found in a potential partner yet? Why?
When something bad happens how do you deal with it?
Talk to someone
Think about it alone (ruminate)
Ignore/suppress and distract yourself
Try to fix it immediately
Would you say yes to being in the body of the opposite gender for 1 year?
Have you ever considered “trying out” an eating disorder?
Ask a significant person in the group you are playing this game with, whether they have ever considering breaking up with you (friendship-wise or romantically), when, and why did they not.
What’s the biggest sacrifice You’ve made for the person on your left (or in the room), that they haven’t acknowledged?
Ask your father “How am I most like you, and how does that scare you?”
Are you scared someone in the room will hurt you? Who, and in what way?
If you needed to decide between two people you know, which will die -would you want to decide, or let a stranger decide?
After a long pursuit You realise someone is as keen
What was your family’s attitude towards affection? How has that impacted you?
Do you wish facebook didn’t exist?
Think of the question you would most like answered, by a person or an all-knowing being or device. Which of the following most closely resembles the answer you’d like to hear?
Without a shadow of a doubt
No i didn’t
I will show you everything
Come with me
In the distant future
What do you like most about having a child of your own? You MUST say something
Is there a profession You’ve always wanted to date? (Doctor. Firefighter, military, vet etc)
Among your group of friends are you one who will generally take care of and help everyone (even if you hate it)? Or are you the one who rationally thinks about it and determines whether the person actually needs help?
Would you rather live in a world where you are never alone or where you are always alone
If your life could be a soundtrack Which movie/tv show’s would you choose?
If you could live a movie which would you choose?
Has this election Made you be more interested or less interested in politics? Think carefully.
Ask the person across from you Who do you think I should be with?
-pick anyone -pick anyone from your friends -pick any celebrity
Be honest: the person asking you these questions -If you could have their life -would you want it?
When was the last time you cried? Why?
Would you rather feel too much or feel nothing at all?
Do you feel you are more attached to your friends, than they are to you?
Which of the seven deadly sins Do you deal with the most?
Within the group of people You are answering questions with, what is something you really regret that you’ve done to someone in the group.
What would the title of your autobiography be?
Do you have songs that you avoid because they make you feel too much? Give one example, and one feeling associated with it.
If you could be an Expert in any field, which would you choose?
If you could be an Expert in any field, which would you choose?
Describe your ex Using one emoji
What aspect do you struggle With the most, when making a new friend? (Ex: Vulnerability, time/history together, learning about them, integrating into your life etc).
Do you have a hard time Integrating your friends into different aspects of your life? ( Ex work friends with family, family friends with school friends).
Big spoon or little spoon? Why?
In what situation do you Feel the loneliest?
What is something you Believe your parents dislike about you?
Do you feel That the way you look right now represents who you are/how you feel?
Choose between being able To make people very happy vs. Never hurting them. Which would you choose?
What made you start Your Tumblr blog?
Have you ever wished For a disorder or disability? (Or considered it)
Choose. Between perpetrator and victim.
Do you feel Like you’ve reached your peak?
How much of your time Do you spend thinking about romance?
Have people pointed out Your biggest insecurity, or have you never talked about it with anyone (positively or negatively)?
Alternate to 101:
i. Did you generate your insecurity, or was it something you developed over time based off of other people’s comments
If you were in a group of best friends; Are you the:
- awesome female main characters
- awesome poc main characters
- realistic depiction of a gay main character struggling with coming out, internalized homophobia, and homophobia from those around him (but he is supported by his friends)
- one ep had a girl who was sexually assaulted and one of the main characters talked about how it wasn’t her fault, no matter what she was wearing or doing
- the men on the show respect the women
- realistic depictions of friendship
- realistic depictions of mental illness including PTSD and eating disorders
- the characters will often call themselves and each other out on their biases
- shows the struggle of being gay in the military
- one ep has a character spy on his daughter through the phone somehow and he ends up getting reprimanded by his wife for not trusting his kid and not respecting his kid’s privacy
- is genuinely funny and has very endearing characters
- combats unnecessary gender roles, for example, has male nurses, female doctors, female military personnel and EMTs, and a male character going into pediatrics
- has characters talk about their background as children of immigrants, has a character’s daughter having her quinceñera, doesn’t erase poc character’s culture but doesn’t force it as a novelty
- stresses that it isn’t shameful to get help when you need it, whether it’s for mental illness, physical illness, or anything
- still has all the drama and angst that a lot of people like in their shows
Oddly enough, Kate Rubins journey to space started in central Africa.
“If you put your finger on a map in the middle of Africa, that’s about where our field site was located,” says Rubins, a microbiologist as well as an astronaut.
It was 2007, and an airplane touching down on a grass runway in the Democratic Republic of the Congo had brought Rubins and her colleagues to study a nasty outbreak of monkey pox in a remote village. She’d already spent time studying HIV, Ebola and smallpox in the lab.
This time the airplane wouldn’t be back for six weeks.
Rubins didn’t know it at the time, but that remote expedition gave her experience she’d eventually draw on during a much bigger journey — to outer space. And while, she doesn’t fit the normal astronaut profile. Many start out as military pilots, engineers or doctors — not microbiologists studying viruses. But she got the job.
BSD Characters and their Real Prototypes Port Mafia:
1. Ryuunosuke Akutagawa — Japanese writer, a classic of the new Japanese literature. Known for his short stories and novels. The style of his works was mostly casual and uncomplicated. Akutagawa suffered from mental disorders. One of his famous stories is ‘The Gate of Rashyomon’ (Rashyomon)
2. Chuuya Nakahara — Japanese poet and translator of French poetry of symbolism in Japanese. Is one of the most important poets of Japan of the XX century. Nakahara led bohemian lifestyle. He wrote in the style of tanka but he adhered to the Western canons of versification. Known for his 'Songs of Old Days’ (For the Tainted Sorrow)
3. Odasaku Sakunosuke (Oda Sakunosuke) — Japanese writer. He is often grouped with Dazai Osamu and Ando Sakaguchi. His characters often didn’t fit in what were traditionally considered appropriate forms, either in their frank humanness or in their stubborn individuality. Also wrote radio drama scenarios. Wrote many critical essays. Known for his 'Stories of Osaka Life’ (Flawless)
4. Ichiyo Higuchi — Japanese writer. Became famous as the author of short stories about the life of ordinary people. Known for her 'Life in the Wilderness’, 'Thirteenth Night’
5. Motojiro Kajii — writer, the author of two dozen autobiographical stories and several dozen student sketches. Kajii was called a representative of the genre of ego-fiction, as well as the author of poetry in prose. The only book published during his lifetime was 'Lemon’ (Lemon Bomb)
6. Ryuro Hirotsu — novelist. In his works he revealed the depths of human life. The heroes of his works belonged to the lower social classes that was suffering from poverty. Known for his short story 'Black Lizard’ (Falling Camellia)
7. Michizo Tachihara — Japanese poet and architect. Michizo struggeled to find a way for an urban poet to root himslef in traditional customs and still be 'modern’. He wrote openly about his feelings and was in his heart, allowing his verse to be both uncontaminated and genuine. Known for his 'Of Dawn, Of Dusk’
8. Ogai Mori — Japanese writer, critic and translator. By profession, a military doctor. His name is associated with emrgence and development of romanticism in Japan. Known for his works 'The Dancer’, 'Bubbles on the water’ and 'Messenger’ (Vita Sexualis)
9. Koyo Ozaki — Japanese writer. Mainly wrote historical novels. The language of his works was considered as conversational. He protested against the capitalist system. Known for his works 'The love confession of two nuns’, 'Fragnant Headboard’, 'Three Wives’ (Golden Demon)
10. Kyusaku Yumeno — was the pen name of the early Showa period author, Sugiyama Taido. He wrote detective novels and is known for his avant-gardism and his surrealistic, wildly imaginative and fantastic, even bizzare narratives. Known for his 'Love After Death’, 'Hell in a Bottle’, 'Terrifying Tokyo’ (Dogra Magra)
You sigh for the hundredth times today, and ignore yet again his comment. He scoffs at your lack of vocal reaction, but doesn’t do anything to get away from you, which you took as a good sign. You resumed what you were doing, and turn your head toward the entrance door as you can hear John’s footsteps going up the stairs.
Without seeing him, you were sure it was John Watson. You’d recognize the way he walked anywhere. Each of his feet on the wooden steps making a particular sound, unique to his way of climbing stairs. You’ve always been able to tell those kind of things…Most people pegged you for a crazy person, or a stalker, as you always knew too much about them before they even spoke to you. Most people…But Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.
And sure enough, the door opened on a John whose hands were full of groceries. When he saw you, his face brightened, and you smiled back to him. You two became great friends, and John would always have a soft spot for you because of how happy you made his best friend (though Sherlock would scoff at that, calling him a “cheesy pathetic hopeless romantic man”…even though he was right).
Sherlock didn’t even turn around to greet his friend, still kind of annoyed with you and your stubbornness to…brush his goddamn hair.
Come One, Come All - circus!au + set in 1950, kyungsoo is a med student who runs away with a circus in search of an adventure and little did he know it’d come in form of a lithe and graceful acrobat (so soft and pure ;;)
Descendants of the Moon - DOTS!au, doctor!au + wolf!au + military!au, doctor kyungsoo and his team of paramedics were sent on a secret mission to help to an undercover unit of military soldiers. which turns out to be different from the usual ones
Doctor, Please - fluff, doctor!soo and jongin using cheesy pickup lines (that work!)
check me out - rainbowtoxicity’s stress relieving fluff/comedy!!! nini has a rash on his…balls but his doc is his big crush (Dr. Hottie Do :–)
and vet!kd extras - i’m sure there are more but these are rly medical i guess?:
The intimate talk, the reveals of each other’s dreams, aspirations and childhood stories had closed the distance between you and the raven headed military doctor. The story of his life, how his prostitute, angel of a mother had him with an unknown client, how she raised him with all the love she could harbor and how it all was not enough to keep him out of trouble. With soft brown eyes, eyelashes touching yours, he told you how a girl took him captive and exposed him to alcohol and drugs, which still hovered over him to this day like an endless storm.
“Half of my life, I’ve been an addict.” He told you, in which you hadn’t been able to reply.
“I have no knowledge of babies” - Sherlock Holmes x Reader
#9. Shopping for baby supplies. Yay some more Sherlock ! I fucking love that show…anyway, I really hope Sherlock isn’t OOC, I really tried to make it as in character as possible…AS USUAL, ANY FEEDBACK IS WELCOME :D…I really hope you guys will like it :
Before meeting you, Sherlock never thought about having children.
Hell, he never even thought about having sex at all ! It just wasn’t something that ever interested him. He always pegged such activities as a big waste of time, utterly useless. And yet, when he met you, all of his strong beliefs in the subject shattered. He already felt very strange when he met “the woman”, Irene Adler, but you ? Oh it was something else.
For starter, you were way smarter than Irene, and that was saying a lot. You often found solutions to problems before Sherlock, which he thought was infuriating…and yet which also made him extremely attracted by you. You quickly plagued his every thoughts, and he found himself craving for your presence more than once. When he confessed those weird things he was feeling to John, the ex-military doctor chuckled and told him :
-There’s nothing weird in what you’re feeling Sherlock, you’re probably just sapiosexual. Which would explain a lot.
-Excuse me ?
-You’re sexually attracted by intelligence. Only, so far, you never met anyone that was smart enough to take your fancy.
-My brother is more intelligent than me and I don’t…
-…Of course you had to make it weird. You know damn well what I mean, and you’re lying to yourself if you say you don’t feel something when (Y/N) is around.
-I feel things alright, I just don’t know how to explain them.
-Some feelings cannot be explain. They’re just there. In your heart, in your mind, everywhere in your being.
At my cousin’s wedding reception they had these empty wine bottles stuffed with strings of lights. Looked like fireflies trapped inside. A bottle of lightning bugs for each table. I took one home with me.
I remember feeling so completely out of place there. So weird and wrong. My mom and I were the only ones from my immediate family who’d been able to come. Her and I fought. Even before the latest election cycle politics was a sore subject and one that always inevitably got brought up. That topic is second only to ways in which I’m apparently circling the gutter.
“You know, we never thought you were going to be the one we’d have to worry about,” she told me. I know compared to my brother and my cousins I haven’t gone very far. And I’m sorry for that. I’m not sure how to change it, and I would if I could.
Believe me, I am painfully aware that I’m the oldest and also the least successful. I didn’t join the military, or get my doctorate, or become an engineer. I didn’t go get married and start a family and I’m not even sure I want that. And I know they’ve never been fired like I have. I know they haven’t messed up in the ways I have. And I know they either agree with you or know when to keep their mouths shut. The best I got is jokes and birds on the internet and I know that don’t mean much.
It’s difficult when what you consider to be the parameters for success are so different from the people you’re trying to impress.
And I used to stare at that bottle of lights on the table in my room like if I looked long enough maybe I’d finally learn how to fly right too. Maybe I’d finally be like them and my mom wouldn’t be embarrassed to talk about me to her sister.
I almost constantly feel like there’s two opposing forces fighting inside me. There’s one side saying, “If you could just fall in line, if you could just suck it up, if you could just figure it out, if you could just be someone else, if you could just grow up and stop being so goddamn weird, then maybe everything would be fixed.”
The other side doesn’t have as much to say. It just wonders what I’d give up in exchange for doing that. What part of me dies in an effort to “fix it.”
Flick the lights in the bottle on and off. Fireflies are there. Fireflies are gone. They have no answers for me.
I put that bottle in the basement.
I know the things I’ve done aren’t important to them, and sometimes that knowledge makes any fleeting bit of validation turn to gritty sand in my mouth. But sometimes I find I’ve got my own way to keep a bottle lit. And maybe they don’t see how my bugs shine, but maybe someday I won’t need them to.
Maybe it’s not economical, but I’ve found purpose in making people laugh. Maybe you can’t brag about it to your sisters, but hearing I’ve brightened someone’s day means so much to me. And you’ll never see the worth in these small things, but I see it. I see it every time someone tells me my messages of support made them cry. Every time someone lets me know I’ve helped them.
The basement can keep that bottle. I’ll find my own and fill it with whatever makes me glow.
There has always been four of you, however when Sam left for Stanford you went with him, leaving Dean and Katie to continue hunting. “Where will you go?” Sam asks you once the two of you are far enough away from the motel.
“London… I want to stay out of this life for as long as possible.” You reply. “I already have my passport and everything.” Sam looks a little surprised but doesn’t say anything about it.
Instead he says: “Promise me that you will look after yourself and please text me when you get there.”
“Of course Sammy.” Before the two of you go your separate ways, your older brother pulls you into a hug and kisses your forehead. As you’re walking you look over your shoulder once watching Sam’s receding form. The song Separate Ways by Journey gets stuck in your head as you head to the airport.
🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝
When you arrive in London and text Sam, you grab a newspaper looking for some place to stay. You find somewhere that is relatively cheap- but there is a slight issue. You don’t have the money to hail a cab and you don’t know London very well so you’re hesitant to go on the tube. For you the best option is walking, despite the fact that it is starting to rain. All you have to protect you from the elements is your second-hand leather jacket. It repels water fine but it isn’t the warmest thing in the world.
By the time you get to 221b Baker street you are drenched head to toe with freezing rain water. You knock on the door, to keep your mind off the cold for a little bit you open up your locket and look at the picture within. The picture is of you and your siblings just goofing around. You look up from your family’s smiling faces when you hear someone ask if they could help you. After a quick explanation, you’re allowed inside.
The landlady introduces herself as Mrs. Hudson. “Nice to meet you Mrs. Hudson, I’m Y/N Winchester.” You answer with a kind smile. Mrs. Hudson then leads you upstairs where two men are lounging around in the front room. The shorter of the two look up from what he is doing and notices how wet your clothes are and how you’re still shivering.
“Here, take this.” He says as he hands you a blanket. “I’m John and that’s Sherlock.” John gestures to the other man sitting across from him.
“Thanks.” You answer as you drape the blanket over your shoulders. “I’m Y/N.”
“How do you feel about the violin?” Sherlock asks, not even bothering to look away from what he is doing.
“I don’t really have a preference. Why do you ask?” You answer. Sherlock gets out of his chair and stalks over to the fireplace before replying.
“I play the violin when I think.”
“Oh…” Your phone starts to ring, you fish it out of your pocket and look at the caller ID- it’s your older sister, Katie. “Hello?” You ask when you pick up.
“Hey. What in the world happened? I’m gone for three weeks and when I come back you and Sam are gone… and neither dad nor Dean will tell me what happened.” Katie says from the other line. You sigh.
“A huge fight broke out between the four of us, which resulted in Sam and I leaving. Sammy went to California…” You trail off.
“Where did you go?”
“The other side of the world.”
“Do I even want to know how that worked out?” You rub the nape of your neck.
“It’s all sorts of complicated.” Katie lets out an exasperated sigh. She then says that Dean just came back from a supply run and that she’ll call you back. “Talk to you later then sis.”
“Later (Nickname.)” With that your sister hangs up. You sigh and set your phone down on the coffee table. You pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders trying to retain warmth without a lot of luck.
“Aren’t you going to get out of those clothes?” John asks concerned.
“I would if everything else wasn’t wet.” You reply. John grabs a cane, and gets out of the chair. He limps away leaving you in confusion. When he comes back he tosses a change of clothes at you.
“Put those on for now, the toilet is down the hall to left.”
24 hours after you move in with John and Sherlock, John warns you about Sherlock’s brother, Mycroft, and how he would offer you money to spy on Sherlock. “I suggest you say no, no matter how much he offers.” John tells you.
“Who would actually spy on someone for money?” You ask in response. “No matter how tempting it is.”
“Believe it or not, a lot of people do.”
A few hours after talking to John sure enough Mycroft takes you to a remote location and offers you a decent sum of money- enough to get you through a full year of school and then some. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think that I would be a very good informant. I’ve never been able to keep a secret… knowing my luck I might let something slip and then I wouldn’t have any place to stay. I can’t afford anywhere else.” You explain, stretching the truth a bit.
🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝
“Where’d you go?” Sherlock asks when you get back to Baker Street.
“Some out of the way warehouse to talk to your brother.” You answer.
“Did he offer you money to spy on me?”
“Yes. I didn’t take it though.”
“Pity we could’ve split the fee.” You don’t respond. Instead you head to your room and grab your laptop and walk back out and sit down at the table. You open the computer and turn it on, it’s going to take a while to boot. Like everything else you own; your laptop had another owner- and that previous owner (aka Sam) forgot to mention that he used up almost all of the memory.
You groan in annoyance when you get an error message. “Computer problems?” John asks.
“Unfortunately. I don’t know what my brother did to it, nor do I know how to fix it.”
“If you really need to use a computer, I can lend you mine… all I ask is that you don’t go snooping through my files and personal documents.”
“Thank you John. Why would I go through your information?”
“I’m not sure but I was just letting you know.” You lightly laugh. The two of you chat for a little bit, getting to know each other a little better. You find out that he used to be an army doctor.
“Well that explains why you threw a dry change of clothes at me yesterday.” John chuckles in response as a man walks up the stairs. John notices him first however Sherlock is the first one to speak.
“Where?” He asks.
“Brixton, Lauriston Gardens.” The new arrival replies.
“What’s new about this one? You wouldn’t have come to get me if there wasn’t something different.”
“You know how they never leave notes?”
“This one did. Will you come?”
“Who’s on forensics?”
“It’s Anderson.” Sherlock grimaces. Apparently your new room mate has a very strong dislike for this Anderson person.
“Anderson won’t work with me.” Sherlock comments.
“Well, he won’t be your assistant.” The other man (whom you’re pretty sure is a cop) counters.
“I need an assistant.” Sherlock puts a heavy emphasis on the word need. A part of you wonders what Sherlock does for a living. On the other hand the other part of you wonders when your computer will finally decide to cooperate with you.
“Will you come?” The cop impatiently asks.
“Not in a police car. I’ll be right behind.” A look of relief speeds across the cop’s face as he mutters his thanks as he takes his leave. Sherlock then jumps with excitement. “Brilliant! Yes! Ah, four serial suicides, and now a note! Oh, it’s Christmas!” You arch an eyebrow not saying a word. Sherlock grabs his coat and his scarf. “Mrs. Hudson, I’ll be late. Might need some food.”
“I’m your landlady dear, not your house keeper.” Mrs. Hudson answers, Sherlock doesn’t seem to hear her because he’s already out the door.
“What was that about?” You inquire slightly puzzled.
“I have no idea.” John answers as he sits down in the arm chair that he has claimed as his. He leans his cane against the chair and picks up a newspaper. Mrs. Hudson tells John that she would make a cup of tea for him, she also tells him to rest his leg. “Damn my leg!” He shouts, startling you and Mrs. Hudson. “Sorry, I’m so sorry. It’s just sometimes this bloody thing…” he then hits his leg with his cane.
“I understand, dear; I’ve got a hip.” John says something about tea and Mrs. Hudson replies with: “Just this once, dear. I’m not your housekeeper.” When the ex-military doctor asks about biscuits Mrs. Hudson almost yells “Not your house keeper!”
🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝
While Sherlock and John are gone you borrow John’s laptop and sign into your Skype account. You notice that both Sam and Katie are online. You then set up a conference video call with them. Katie answers first and a few seconds later Sam joins in. “Hey, it’s my two favorite girls.” Sam jokes. Katie giggles while you just roll your eyes.
“Whatever weirdo.” You reply.
“Look who’s talking.”
“Sammy!” Both you and Katie exclaim at the same time. Sam then throws his head back laughing and clapping his hands. A small smile creeps onto your face.
“How’s the other side of the world sis?” Katie asks.
“So far I like it.” You answer. “I found a place to stay that the rent isn’t too bad.”
“That’s good.” Sam comments.
“Yeah… got some interesting roommates though.” As the words leave your mouth you notice Sherlock coming up the stairs with a pink suitcase in hand, you look at him with a confused look on your face. “Uh, Sherlock why does it look like you went dumpster diving?”
“I was looking for this.” Your roommate answers gesturing to the suitcase in his hand.
“You went dumpster diving for a suitcase?” Sam sounds like he is choking on something. You return your attention to the screen. “You okay there Sam?”
“Water went down the wrong tube.” Your brother answers. Sherlock dramatically flops down on the couch while you’re talking to your brother and sister.
“You know that could break the couch right?” You ask Sherlock not looking away from your screen. Sherlock scoffs.
“Hey Y/N, I have to log off, Dean just got back.” Katie says.
“And I should start heading to class.” Sam adds in. Your heart drops slightly but you put on a fake smile.
“Okay, I guess I’ll talk to you later then.” You, and your siblings close out the chat. You then log out of your Skype then close the window and put John’s laptop back where you found it.
🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝
John seems a little panicked after he finds out he just texted a murderer. Two seconds later John receive a call from a withheld number. “A few hours after his last victim, and now he receives a text that can only be from her. If somebody had just found that phone they’d ignore a text like that, but the murderer…” Sherlock says dramatically shutting the case. “Would panic.”
“Have you talked to the police?” John asks.
“Four people are dead. There isn’t time to talk to the police.”
“So why are you talking to us?” Sherlock looks a child who lost their favorite toy.
“Mrs. Hudson took my skull.”
“So we’re basically filling in for your skull?” Sherlock just shrugs as he puts on his coat he then says that you and John can watch TV or tag along with him.
“You want us to come with you?” You ask mildly surprised.
“I like company when I go out, and I think better when I talk aloud. The skull just attracts attention, so…” Sherlock trails off.
“What the hell I have nothing better to do.” You answer getting out of your chair. John seems hesitant, but he curses when you and Sherlock basically race each other down the stairs. He catches up with the two of you outside. “So where are we going exactly Sherlock?” You ask.
“Northumberland Street’s a five-minute walk from here.” Sherlock explains.
“You think that he is stupid enough to go there?” John asks.
“No – I think he’s brilliant enough. I love the brilliant ones. They’re always so desperate to get caught.” Sherlock counters.
“Do you think he messed up on purpose then?” You ask. Sherlock throws you a slightly impressed look.
“It is a possibility, but then again he might’ve made an amateur mistake.”
“You’ve lost me.” John says. “Why are the brilliant killers so eager to get caught?”
“Appreciation! Applause! At long last the spotlight. That’s the frailty of genius, John: it needs an audience.”
“The the more newspapers about these murders the more audience the killer receives. The more audience the more murders… right Sherlock?” Sherlock once again looks slightly impressed, not many people can keep up with his train of thought.
“Exactly right Y/N.” Sherlock pauses for a second. “This is his hunting ground, right here in the heart of the city. Now that we know his victims were abducted, that changes everything. Because all of his victims disappeared from busy streets, crowded places, but nobody saw them go.” He throws his hands up thinking. “Think! Who do we trust, even though we don’t know them? Who passes unnoticed wherever they go? Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?”
“Don’t know.” John states. “Who?”
“Haven’t the faintest. Hungry?”
“More like starving.” You say throwing your two cents in. Sherlock airily chuckles as he leads you and John to a small Italian place. The waiter clearly knows the consulting detective.
“Thank you Billy.” Sherlock says as he takes off his coat and sits down at a table just as the waiter removes the reserved sign. “Twenty-two Northumberland Street. Keep your eyes on it.” He advises.
“Think the killer is just going to waltz up to the door and ring the doorbell?” You ask. “I don’t think anyone besides my brother, Dean, would be that cocky.” Sherlock only shrugs as the owner walks over to the table with three menus.
“Sherlock.” He says with a smile, Sherlock shakes the owner’s hand. “Anything on the menu, whatever you want, free. On the house, for you and for your friends.”
“Thank you…” you meekly say. “Can I ask why it’s on the house?”
“This man got me off a murder charge.”
“This is Angelo.” Sherlock says, as you and John shake Angelo’s hand. “Three years ago I successfully proved to Lestrade at the time of a particularly vicious triple murder that Angelo was in a completely different part of town, house-breaking.”
“He cleared my name.”
“I cleared it a bit.” Sherlock huffs. Angelo says a few other things before taking his leave. “You may as well eat. We might have a long wait.”
You don’t order a lot, figuring that Sherlock might want to leave at any second. Sherlock stares out the window, watching. “Sherlock how come your brother calls himself your arch-enemy?” You ask breaking the silence between the three of you.
“Yours don’t?” Sherlock asks mildly surprised.
“Sounds a bit dull.”
“For you maybe. For me; well let’s just say that over the years my family has made a lot of enemies, because of that I could only trust my family.” You bitterly answer.
“What about friends?” John asks. You stand up and throw him a harsh look.
“Never. Had. One.” You coldly retort as you then leave the restaurant and head back to Baker Street.
🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝
When the cops show up, you meet Lestrade, Anderson and Donovan. You’re not the biggest fan of Anderson nor Donovan, you like Lestrade to a point.
Sherlock storms up the stares and glares at Lestrade. “What are you doing?” He demands.
“Well, I knew you’d find the case. I’m not stupid.” Lestrade retorts.
“You can’t just break into my flat.”
“And you can’t withhold evidence. And I didn’t break into your flat.”
“Well, what do you call this then?” Lestrade puts on an innocent face before answering.
“It’s a drugs bust.” When John sarcastically asks if Sherlock was a junkie, you see the hurt in Sherlock’s face telling you that he was a junkie at some point in his life. Sherlock then tells John to shut up. He then returns his attention to Lestrade.
“I’m not your sniffer dog.” He states.
“No, Anderson‘s my sniffer dog.” Sherlock looks ready to kill someone. He actually singles out Anderson.
“Anderson, what are you doing here on a drugs bust?”
“Oh, I volunteered.” Anderson answers, venom dripping from his voice.
“They all did. They’re not strictly speakingon the drugs squad, but they’re very keen.” Lestrade points out. Donovan then walks out of the kitchen holding a container of eyeballs.
“Are these human eyes?” She asks.
“Put those back!” Sherlock exclaims.
“They were in the microwave!”
“It’s an experiment.” Lestrade tells everyone to keep looking or Sherlock could actually help them. The conversation that is going on between them isn’t really friendly. “I AM CLEAN!” Sherlock practically yellls. He actually shows Lestrade his nicotine patch.
“So let’s work together. We’ve found Rachel.” Lestrade says pulling down his sleeve.
“Who is she?”
“Jennifer Wilson’s only daughter.” That seems to throw Sherlock through a loop. He starts muttering about why would the victim write her daughter’s name.
“Never mind that. We found the case.” Anderson harshly points out. According to someone, the murderer has the case, and we found it in the hands of our favourite psychopath.“
“I’m not a psychopath, Anderson. I’m a high-functioning sociopath. Do your research.” Sherlock deadpans. “You need to bring Rachel in. You need to question her. I need to question her.”
“Excellent!!” You and John share a worried look. “How, when and why? Is there a connection? There has to be.”
“Well, I doubt it, since she’s been dead for fourteen years. Technically she was never alive. Rachel was Jennifer Wilson’s stillborn daughter, fourteen years ago.” Sherlock looks all confused and slightly disappointed. He then starts muttering again.
“Why would she think of her daughter in her last moments? Yup – sociopath; I’m seeing it now.” Anderson states. You ball your hand up into a fist he just hit a nerve.
When you were three and a half when your mom just got off the phone with your dad asking him to come and get you; your dad and your siblings were a little slow- you watched in horror as your mom got mauled to death by a hellhound. Her last words to you were- I love you and I’ll think about you always.
“She didn’t think about her daughter. She scratched her name on the floor with her fingernails. She was dying. It took effort. It would have hurt.” Sherlock points out.
“You said that the victims all took the poison themselves, that he makes them take it. Well, maybe he … I don’t know, talks to them? Maybe he used the death of her daughter somehow.” John mentions.
“Yeah, but that was ages ago. Why would she still be upset?”
“Sherlock…” You say, your voice shaking slightly. You were still shaken from Anderson’s comment. “When someone loses a person they love, it’s hard. I mean when my mom was killed it took me almost two years for me to cope, I’m still not over it.”
“Yeah… now if you were dying if you’d been murdered: in your very last few seconds what would you say?”
“Please, God, let me live.” John answers.
“I would say the same thing.” You add in.
“Oh, use your imagination!” Sherlock scolds.
“We don’t have to.” Sherlock looks at you and John and sees the pain behind your eyes… he then realises that both of you have been on death’s door step before.
“Yeah, but if you were clever, really clever… Jennifer Wilson running all those lovers: she was clever.” Sherlock says continuing his train of thought. He also starts to pace. “She’s trying to tell us something.” Mrs. Hudson walks up the stairs.
“Isn’t the doorbell working? Your taxi’s here, Sherlock.” She says.
“I didn’t order a taxi. Go away.”
“Oh, dear. They’re making such a mess. What are they looking for?”
“It’s a drugs bust, Mrs Hudson.” John answers. Poor Mrs. Hudson looks panicked.
“But they’re just for my hip. They’re herbal soothers.”
Sherlock suddenly shouts: “Shut up, everybody, shut up! Don’t move, don’t speak, don’t breathe. I’m trying to think. Anderson, face the other way. You’re putting me off.”
“What? My face is?!” Anderson asks in surprise. You hide a smile.
“Everybody quiet and still. Anderson, turn your back.” Lestrade pipes up.
“Oh for God’s sake!”
“Your back, now, please!” Anderson reluctantly turns his back and Sherlock starts talking to himself. Then there was Mrs. Hudson talking causing the consulting detective to yell at her.
🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝
Sherlock disappears somewhere. You roll your eyes. He was worse then your dad when it comes to these things. John convinces you to come with him to find Sherlock. What John doesn’t know is that you have your gun on you (apparently you hid it incredibly well that the airport x-ray machine didn’t find it.) Now unbeknownst to you John also has a gun on him. That is a little awkward when the two of you pull out your guns and shoot at the same time. Each bullet gets dangerously close to the cabbie/killer’s heart.
“When and where did you learn how to shoot?!” John asks as the two of you get out of the building, so the police wouldn’t be too suspicious.
“I’ve been using firearms for a very long time. Why do you ask?”
“Ah.” You have to laugh at Sherlock and his strange relationship with a blanket.
“Why have I got this blanket? They keep putting this blanket on me.” You overhear Sherlock tell Lestrade.
“Yeah, it’s for shock.” Lestrade answers.
“I’m not in shock.”
“Yeah, but some of the guys want to take photographs.”
“So, the shooter or shooters. No sign?”
“Cleared off before we got here.” Lestrade starts going on a little bit before he shrugs while saying: “Got nothing to go on.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“Okay, give me.” Sherlock lowers his voice so you can’t hear what is being said.
“Actually you know what ignore me.” Sherlock says loud enough you can hear the conversation again.
“Sorry?” Lestrade replies.
“Ignore all of that. It’s just the, er, the shock talking.” Sherlock then starts to walk over to you and John.
“Where’re you going?”
“I just need to talk about the-the rent.”
“But I’ve still got questions!”
“Oh, what now? I’m in shock! Look, I’ve got a blanket!” You start laughing at that comment.
“And I just caught you a serial killer… more or less.” When Sherlock walks over to you and John he says in a very soft voice “Nice shot.”
The three of you start talking and walking away from the crime scene, John notices Mycroft and points him out to Sherlock. That was an interesting conversation to say in the least. When you get back to 221b Baker Street you create a group chat with Sam and Katie.
‘You wouldn’t believe the day I just had.’ You send.
‘What happened (nickname)?’ Sam asks in response.
‘Please tell me that you didn’t get hurt.’ Katie adds in. You lightly chuckle to yourself.
‘I’m not hurt. However I did help Sherlock (one of my roommates) catch a serial killer… might’ve shot said serial killer though.’
'Okay start at the beginning- I want to know the whole story.’
'As do I.’ With that you then start telling your brother and sister about your day.
← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← → → → → → → → → → → → → → → → →
People of Germany: Friedrich Schiller (1759-1805) was a German poet, philosopher, physician, historian, and playwright. He was born in Marbach, Württemberg as the only son of a military doctor. He grew up in a very religious family and spent much of his youth studying the Bible, which would later influence his writing for the theatre. He had 5 sisters. He was named after King Frederick the Great, but he was called Fritz by nearly everyone. As a boy, Schiller was excited by the idea of becoming a cleric and often put on black robes and pretended to preach. Later, he entered the Karlsschule Stuttgart (an elite military academy), where he eventually studied medicine. During most of his short life, he suffered from illnesses that he tried to cure himself. While at the Karlsschule, he read Rousseau and Goethe and discussed Classical ideals with his classmates. At school, he wrote his first play, The Robbers, which dramatizes the conflict between 2 aristocratic brothers: the elder, Karl Moor, leads a group of rebellious students into the Bohemian forest where they become Robin Hood-like bandits, while Franz Moor, the younger brother, schemes to inherit his father’s considerable estate. The play’s critique of social corruption and its affirmation of proto-revolutionary republican ideals astounded its original audience. Schiller became an overnight sensation. Later, he would be made an honorary member of the French Republic because of this play. In 1780, he obtained a post as regimental doctor in Stuttgart, a job he disliked. In order to attend the first performance of The Robbers in Mannheim, Schiller left his regiment without permission. As a result, he was arrested, sentenced to 14 days of imprisonment, and forbidden by Karl Eugen from publishing any further works. He fled Stuttgart in 1782, going via Frankfurt, Mannheim, Leipzig, and Dresden to Weimar. Along this journey he had an affair with an army officer’s wife Charlotte von Kalb. In 1789, he was appointed professor of History and Philosophy in Jena, where he wrote only historical works.
Goethe convinced him to return to playwriting. He and Goethe founded the Weimar Theater, which became the leading theater in Germany. Their collaboration helped lead to a renaissance of drama in Germany. For his achievements, Schiller was ennobled in 1802 by the Duke of Saxe-Weimar, adding the nobiliary particle “von” to his name. He remained in Weimar, Saxe-Weimar until his death at 45 from tuberculosis in 1805.
Welcome to Andover… where superpowers are common, but internships are complicated. Just ask high school nobody, Jessica Tran. Despite her heroic lineage, Jess is resigned to a life without superpowers and is merely looking to beef-up her college applications when she stumbles upon the perfect (paid!) internship—only it turns out to be for the town’s most heinous supervillain. On the upside, she gets to work with her longtime secret crush, Abby, who Jess thinks may have a secret of her own. Then there’s the budding attraction to her fellow intern, the mysterious “M,” who never seems to be in the same place as Abby. But what starts as a fun way to spite her superhero parents takes a sudden and dangerous turn when she uncovers a plot larger than heroes and villains altogether.
That’s how long recovering addict Sophie’s been drug-free. Four months ago her best friend, Mina, died in what everyone believes was a drug deal gone wrong - a deal they think Sophie set up. Only Sophie knows the truth. She and Mina shared a secret, but there was no drug deal. Mina was deliberately murdered.
Forced into rehab for an addiction she’d already beaten, Sophie’s finally out and on the trail of the killer—but can she track them down before they come for her?
A/N: Hey loves! Well isn’t it a suprise to see me>>>Hehh…Anyway I’m back at writing due to school ending and Me getting back on my feet so I give you two updates. Writers block as also been a pain but I managed to write all I could from October to now….May….Heh. Also my birthday is coming up…the 24th! woohooooo
You woke in a burst of a gasp for air, your heart racing..eyes focusing to the light of a room. You looked around, catching your breath as it was heavy. You felt your lungs were being shot by millions of pins and needles for the single second.
You kept blinking until your eyes ajusted to your fathers face. Hid soft light wrinkles, you traced up to his eyes. The worry was behind the happiness of your wake in the them. You had pondered upon some curiousity, wondering just how long you had been deep in sleep.
“Dad..can i ask you something?” Your voice cracking from being so dry, yet you continued as he nodded for you to go on; “How long was I out for?” You stuttered lightly only because of all the sore feelings of your body.
“A couple hours, nothing too bad kiddo” he chuckled “nothing broken, just a whole lotta bruises” he smiled softly. Your dad jokes to make you feel better and that was one of your favorite things. Nothing was ever serious unless it came to your mom. The one thing that hurt you like nothing else.
“When do I get to go home then?” Your head turned toward the clock as you spoke. The hour striking 6am exactly, making you groan internally.
“The doctor is hoping two more days, in the morning but it might be the day after as well” his smile faded “I have to leave tomorrow because I have work but I did take a flight as quick as I could sweetheart to take care of you. Your my baby girl always” he shrugged slightly “I wish I could get out of it”.
You nod your head and shrug as well. Of course it made you feel terrible that he couldn’t say and help with the pain physically and mentally. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were forgetting something as soon as he walked out the door when the doctor came through.
“Hi, I’m Doctor Jimmy Novak. I’ll be here to test you memory and make sure everything is in working order” he smiled and tilted his head slightly “Okay?” His voice was gentle yet rough and very deep. This intrigued you a bit, even his blue eyes and slightly messy dark brown hair that shifted to the side in a little curl of a wave. He had slight dimples, which made your stomach twist in a good way. He looked very caring, but of course he was. He was a doctor. Your doctor for the day or hopefully the rest of your days at the hospital.
“Hi” your voice cracked again making your eyes widen, he hurried and grabbed your water cup from the end table next to your bed and handed it to you. You took a sip, and felt the cool liquid spill down your throat, clearing out the dry feeling. “Thank you” you smiled as you took another sip of water.
“Welcome Y/N” he nodded and sat in a rolling chair he’d brought over, “Ready for our little test” you nodded slowly as you watched his lips move as he spoke, they looked pink and soft. You bit your lip unknowingly, as his question was silent but his lips portrayed the question. Was the doctor attractive to you? You didn’t know what to think anymore well…of him.
“So when is your birthday?” he asked as he looked down at his clipboard.