AP·O·GEE ( /ˈAPƏJĒ/ ) the highest point in the development of something; the climax or culmination. lily evans | bellatrix black | sherlock holmes | rowena ravenclaw | petunia evans

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@apcgee-a
AP·O·GEE ( /ˈAPƏJĒ/ ) the highest point in the development of something; the climax or culmination. lily evans | bellatrix black | sherlock holmes | rowena ravenclaw | petunia evans
AP·O·GEE ( /ˈAPƏJĒ/ ) the highest point in the development of something; the climax or culmination. lily evans | bellatrix black | sherlock holmes | rowena ravenclaw | petunia evans
AP·O·GEE ( /ˈAPƏJĒ/ ) the highest point in the development of something; the climax or culmination. lily evans | bellatrix black | sherlock holmes | rowena ravenclaw | petunia evans
Okay.
This is kind of a big thing for me, and I’ve waffled back and forth on it, but I’m giving it a try. As of NOW, Lily has been moved to a MULTIMUSE (along with Petunia). That means that ALL my muses are on ONE BLOG, so I don’t have to split my attention and thus (hopefully) can give everyone more attention.
I can’t guarantee that this is going to last. I’ve been ‘DefiantCharms’ for a long freaking time, but I really think this will help me. So, at least for now, Lily can be found here:
APCGEE
‘But Emmy! I’ve followed you there already!’ Thank you darlings, but make sure that it’s the CURRENT one, and not the blog that is now apcgee-a. That was a sideblog to Lily. The new APCGEE is a mainblog.
Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me for this. I hope you’ll put up with me through this new change.
What is your heart worth?
He nodded, still beaming. "Ok mama. Oh! Oh! And I saw a bunny in the garden!" He bounced excitedly in her arms at that part of the retelling. "He runned away but I saw him! I fink he likes flowers too cause he eated some of them." He frowned, his brow furrowed. "Um.... eated.... ATE," he corrected himself. "He /ate/ some. And he hoppeded away, but I dunno where he left to."
“Ran away, Rabastan,” she corrected, keeping her cringe internal. Oh, her poor garden, under attack now. At least Bastan was happy. She kissed the tip of his nose; at least that was free of dirt. “I’ve got my bunny right here. “
James was NOT nervous. James did not GET nervous. The way he was fidgeting and consistently wiping his hands on his jeans was just restlessness, he'd insist on it. Nevermind that his face was a little pale and he couldn't hold still to save his life, or that when she finally got close enough for him to speak, he couldn't quite find his voice. He stared at her, looking like a deer in headlights, before it all tumbled out at once. "Evansdoyoumaybewanttogooutwithme? ....Fuck. I mean.... would you?"
It takes her a solid minute to decipher what that word vomit had said, all while staring at James like he’d grown a second head from the tip of his nose at the same time as she tried not to stare him down too much in case he fell over from the fright of it. He looked like he might despite her best efforts.
Okay, maybe not her best efforts, because she did take another minute to consider the proposition before she shrugged and said, “All right. Grab some food and a movie maybe, yeah?”
He settled himself up higher on her hip, wiggling til he was satisfied with his position, and reached up to noisily kiss his mother's cheek. "Yeah!" he told her excitedly, and waved the little bundle of dirty flowers. "Lookit! I got them for you!" He beamed up at her, clearly very pleased with himself. "I went outside all by myself and everyfing!"
“Wow, that was brave of you!” She said with awe, pointedly not thinking about the part of her garden that was now trampled and torn up. It was the thought that counted, after all. And it was a very sweet thought. She returned the kiss, just as noisily. “Why don’t we get you cleaned up, and then we can put them in a vase.”
Rabastan runs up to his mother as fast as his clumsy legs will carry him, and immediately lifts up his arms. He's got dirt on his cheek and freshly pulled flowers in his hand. "Up, mama!" he demands. "Up! I gotta give you somefing." He's six years old and he's almost too big, but he doesn't care. He wants it anyway.
She swings him up into her arms, bracing him on her hip with a soft, “Oooph!” It’s not really an exaggeration, but as long as he wanted ‘up’, she’d give it to him, no matter how it made her back twinge. “Yeah? What do you have to give me,” she said, even though it was pretty obvious. “Did my big boy bring me a treat?”
Who wants a Sherlock in their inbox?
Send my character messages that you think will strike a nerve.
anderfelsprincess:
Whether the reaction be anger or sadness.
vxctorx / Victor
His initial response is naught but silence, as emotions crash wave after wave into the ocean of his eyes. ❝——Where did you hear that name?❞ It isn’t an answer to the other’s query, but then, perhaps it is far more telling than any appropriate explanation which he may have offered.
“He’s involved himself in one of my cases.” Which was perhaps putting it mildly. “He could have killed my friend.” He should know she’d never had many of them. In fact, hadn’t really had one since he left for India.
vxctorx / Victor
She is being excruciatingly generous with her faith in him. What more does it take than a decade of terrorized silence to shake the foundations of one’s credences?
❝——Are you here for a confession, then? Or did you simply want to make sure I was really alive?❞
“Neither of those things.” He wouldn’t give her a confession, and she didn’t want one from him. If she had a confession from him, she might have to think of him as guilty. And she’d always known he was still alive. “I wanted to ask you a question.” Which felt rather small and petty as the reason to seek him out after so long.
“—Have you worked for a man called Moriarty?”
vxctorx / Victor
@apcgee found the assassin
❝——I must confess, I had rather foreseen this day. Are you here to arrest me? Because I’m afraid I shall have to disappoint you.❞
“You have never disappointed me, Victor. Perhaps one day you will. But not today.” A pause, and then, in case that wasn’t clear enough. “I’m not here to arrest you.” She wasn’t entirely sure why she was here, except that this was a case she had to see through to the end, personally.
wanting the thing but not knowing if people do the thing and asking is such an awkward thing
dcntcommitsuicide / Greg
“—–alright then. Why stare though? Do I look that different?”
“Not quantitatively, no.” But there was something about it that made looking away difficult. “They suit you.”
manichaeisms / Jimmy
His jaw clenched but he still didn’t react much besides. Jimmy. That was what his father called him. No one else was allowed. “It’s not, Bells,” he hissed back at her, his natural eye flashing. His other as dull and glassy, still useful but it showed none of the fire the other did. “And we both know it. Because you’re still sitting there and nothing happened to me yet. I almost killed you, remember? And you want it. You want that thrill. I saw it in you. You enjoyed it. And pretending you don’t want it is pointless.” He could only hope that was true, and that that was why she hadn’t attacked him yet. He was a fool and he knew it, knew that everything he said could set her off and he’d be blind forever - assuming he even survived. “Admit it. Killing me right now wouldn’t be half as much fun.”
Her lips pursed tight. He was at least partially right. Killing him like this, when all he’d do was whine about it, wasn’t any fun. He wasn’t even screaming; just a lot of talking. “I’m sitting here because you’re sitting there. Not doing much of anything. It’s rather dull. What does dear Sirius see in you?” Her eyes flashed, alighting on another avenue of goading. “I still have that bit of mirror you stabbed me with, you know. Maybe we should give my beloved cousin a call. See if that will liven you up a bit.”