I abhore the dull routine of existence.

Elementary, my dear

[ketcherdam]

"I always thought love was a dangerous disadvantage."

[ana--pudim]

[lordsofcrime]

I love that Sherlock and Liam are both disasters in their own right. Sherlock is a bipolar, compulsive, self-proclaimed detective who solves crimes for fun, and Liam doesn’t know the first thing about taking care of himself. I mean, the man falls asleep at random intervals, eats like maybe one biscuit a day, and is willing to sell his soul to fulfill Robespierre’s revolutionary ideals. Like wtf. I like how they both saw each other and went “yes, I want that one”— and I like even more that they then had to suffer the consequences and learn how to respectively take care of their chosen disaster. They both have to learn how to grow up for each other. I think that’s beautiful.

[shinobisandals]

[greendy2l]

Liam<333

[sherlybbknead-deactivated202507]

william’s study room..

[t-taxiansgf]

fun fact: besides looking very similar to the characters, the actors also have other characteristics very similar to them, for example: Feiyu has a birthday on the same day and month as Mo Ran. Luo Yunxi is also very similar in age to Wanning, and the difference between him and Chen Feiyu is almost the same as ranwan

[isolabellz]

the lord of crime and the greatest detective

[benjamingross-deactivated202302]

I think that what makes Bungo Stray Dogs so special is that you can tell that the author loved writing it. It's not just that the characters are great (though they are). It's not that the plot is thick and interesting (though it is). It's the fact that Asagiri clearly woke up one morning and thought "I should write a balls to the walls AU of all my favourite classic lit authors and give them superpowers." And then just... did. Shamelessly. It's the ultimate "write the thing you most want to see" and the great feelings that come with that permeate through the text and make consuming it so fucking enjoyable.

[ketcherdam]

I would never say sayonara to you, Ash. Even though we could not make it in this lifetime, see you later. In the second life, when our fate crosses again, I'd welcome you like you are my old friend. My only true friend, Ash Lynx.

Drop my 01:15 AM thoughts because I miss AshEiji. You will never understand.

The seasons in America brought many memories upon him. The heat of summer burned the ashes, the windy air of autumn swept away the memories. But that grown up Japanese man stayed the same. He stood in front of the graveyard looking up for the name on the tombstone. Unfortunately, the name he looked for has never been found. The sunflower he gripped in his palm loose. It fell to the ground.

Ash Lynx had decided to take his days off without disruption. Eiji had retired from his side job.

Summer in New York would never be the same as it used to.

The bloodshed in the hands had disappeared. The trigger would never be pulled. The shape of the knife would never be shattered.

Eiji missed all of the disruptions. If he could be back to those days, he would.

He remembered the words in the last letter he vowed would never say goodbye. There'll be another word instead of goodbye. It's "See you again". If they mean to be, no matter how long time separates them, they'll be back for one another. Eiji words remain the same, "it'll never sayonara, Ash."

"Even though we could not make it in this lifetime, see you later. In the second life, when our fate crosses again, I'd welcome you like you are my old friend. My only true friend, Ash Lynx."

He uttered, in front of the graveyard in another section full of sunflowers.

[ketcherdam]

[ketcherdam]

A Secret Message

The blue feelings corrupted her at night. She wrapped herself in her room pondering many war throwbacks. 'What have you done all these times' sticking in her head, all night long. The music she favoured lingered in her room but could not help her get through it. Either the smell of the rain at night or the paper she is always writing on. Everything's plain before midnight. Until then she heard footsteps approaching her place. It sounded familiar yet peculiar to accept someone in the middle of the night. She's not scared of ghosts therefore she welcomed it. She could see the shadow but then he passed. He didn't come in. She was curious.

"Who is there?" asked her. But that mysterious man didn't answer.

She stayed at her place. The sensation of goosebumps took her soul over. She couldn't do more unless stay at her place for her safety. The shadow passed. That meant he was in another room. She's afraid there'll be a robbery. But that night she didn't care what the man wanted. She had given everything up. She could not do more. She embraced herself on the floor and let what the man wanted for her.

He didn't come in, at last, but the sound of her piano tone was heard. She raised her head once she heard it. The sound continued into the music she ever heard. She bewildered at her place even more. In a more relieved way, the curve of her lips raised, she smiled. She acknowledged that song. The song that always exists before November, 21st. By the night full of intricate-rollercoaster-thoughts, he came. He came to divert the rashes in her head through the music he created. He beat the maestro from her perspective. The sound of his play erased the blue feelings that corrupted her tonight. Her heart flustered and altered into a soft life form. 

She could hear him humming across the room along with the melody. The tension for reaching his place arose. But she wouldn't let his play stop. He played it religiously and that was enough to have that before November 21st. The clock tickled until it reached the middle of the night. He stopped. The eerie sensation occurred again because she knew she'd lose him, again, slowly but surely. 

The envelope came through under the door. She was raised from her place and got that. The same envelope she received since she met him with his name written on it. She knew well that he would not come in and she understood. She opened it and read the words one by one. The style of his writings never changed since then. That is always filled with something poetic. She had no idea how truly his love could melt her heart. She felt her knees get weak throughout the sweet nothings he threw at his letter. She knew she had to be beholden to everything for his presence. 

She opened his letter,

[ketcherdam]

"Althroughout the great war always remember that the letter I vowed not to fight anymore, 'cause we survived the great war"

[prince-tenko-deactivated2023033]

The fact Liam spent his whole life being the calm and calculating persona of The Lord of Crime yet decided months prior to the last act of his plan that if he was to go out he wanted to at least live as many moments as he could with Sherlock I can’t–

[whitenoface]

I think about all the time how William met his soulmate, the person who would eventually save him and bring color to his world, because he let his guard down just for one second to be the little math nerd he was.