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@raineingrandom
the universal experience
Be proud of being cringe. Evil even
I have sucked it up and am finally watching the supernatural finale. I was already spoiled or whatever but I cannot believe that they defeated the big bad but there is still ONE whole episode after.
my spn obsession has awakened and I am in search for fic recs and spn twt was giving me nothing
shane and yuuri met and became friends while yuuri was training in detroit.... victor and ilya have each others' numbers and have drunk called the other on several different occasions... this is what divine winds have told me 😌☝
My shadow and bone shitpost is this: Since the timelines for Six of Crows and Shadow and Bone diverge (tho I’m excited if and how they’d fit the jurda parem plot or will they keep it separate) in the adaptation, when Jesper is revealed as a Fabrikator, there’s nothing stopping me from expecting that Alina would take up a sort of a mentor role or at least teach Jes what she learned. Idk just wanted some more interaction between unlikely pairs like this I guess heh
After learning that season 2 and the movie wasn’t happening and dying a little bit inside, I totally missed the info about the script for the movie being released. A couple of years later, after re-watching the whole first (and ONLY) season of The Nine Lives of Chloe King, I decided to subject myself to more heartbreak by searching for new updates about the show. And fuck, it’s still cancelled and there are no talks of it being picked up again. But I finally see the script that has been released and I was ecstatic ‘cause I thought it would help me let go of the show, but after reading it I just have to say, HELP ME.
*** MAGIC, MONSTERS & OTHER FAIRY TALES ***
Here’s a collection of magical Johnlock tales I enjoyed!
Odd Birds by lockedin221b, 6 k, explicit. Sherlock was a pirate captain known for his ability to ignore the sirens’ call, sailing past their nest with ease … until, a new sort of siren was born, one that was male. Winglock, Greek mythology freeform. Thumbs up!
Bump in the Night by szm, 1 chapter, kidlock. Gen only, but so sweet. John grows up with an “imaginary friend” – a monster named Sherlock who lives under his bed. Really great stuff.
Shatter the Darkness (Let the Light In) by MojoFlower, 23 chapters. John finds an old lamp that just happens to contain a genie – one magical Sherlock Holmes. Very erotic, and seeing Harry Watson in this is priceless. The fic feels dubcon at times, Sherlock is an unwilling prisoner, but of course things work out all right in the end.
where the good things grow by anchors, 1 chapter, 7 k words. Magical realism fic - Sherlock has a magic garden to make magic teas, and John, who runs a tea shop, visits him. This story is dreamy and surreal, and sweet as their relationship unfolds.
Once Upon a Beast Becoming by antietamfalls, 6 chapters, 24 k words. Teen and up. Johnlock. Magical AU, fairy tale AU, magical realism – modern reworking of “Beauty and the Beast.” This fic was simply stunning. For anyone who enjoys a magical AU, run don’t walk to read this story. It was a mystical, romantic tale interwoven with well-researched mythology, snappy case fic, and punchy action that kept you on the edge of your seat until the end. I just loved all the different types of nature spirits wandered through the tale – woodwose, kelpie, hobs, spiggans. All thumbs up!
Novel by lifeonmars, WIP, Johnlock. John is a writer who employs Sherlock, a world famous editor, to help him past his writers’ block. A fascinating story within a story develops as John writes him and Sherlock as characters in an alternate fairy tale world. Feels very much like the “Tuesday Next” series. Waiting for updates!
The Frost Child by twistedthicket1, 9 k, mature. Magical realism. In a world where people are born with magical Gifts of varying degrees , John was thought untalented for years. Content to bask in Sherlock’s shadow, John keeps his talents hidden until they are very much needed. This is sort of a Frozen crossover, and very fairy-tale and lovely in feeling. Thumbs up!
Two Years As Your Interpreter by prettyvk, 11 chapters. Teenlock. This fic is a lyrical, poetic magical realism romp. Sherlock lives at special school for the gifted speaking in the mystic phrases as a Prophet. He’s blazed through several Interpreters before John is picked to work with him. John struggles to save the mad genius who is tortured by his parents’ death that he foretold, but could not stop. When Moriarty comes as a new Prophet at the school seeking to discredit Sherlock, John struggles to protect Sherlock from his own suicidal tendencies. Sweet and interesting, but hella angsty, and minimal sexy times.
break through to the other side by whimsicalimages, 4 k, PG. Found on LJ. At ten years old, John Watson looks into a mirror and sees two people staring back at him. Magical Realism AU, kidlock. John sees Sherlock through mirrors as he grows up and through his life. Feels!
The Matchmaker’s meeting by PaperPrince, 1 K, teen. Kidlock/teenlock. In a world where the names of people’s soulmates appear on their hands, Sherlock is a Finder in training, one who serves as a matchmaker. One day little Sherlock meets an interesting older boy at the local library. Short, but good world building. Cute. (Part of a series of shorts – “Little Hearts.”) Magical realism, fluff, soulmates.
An Experiment in Apathy by belovedmuerto – 13 part series of shorts. Starts Gen and moves to teen and explicit. Just fascinating – magical realism. John is an empath connected to Sherlock. This series follows the relationship John and Sherlock build with a bit of Mystrade on the side as well. The series is interwoven with dreams, as John has nightmares that he fears will hurt Sherlock. Thumbs up.
Riptide Lover by Jinglebell, WIP, explicit. When Merman Sherlock meets sailor John, he finds himself oddly reluctant to let the man simply drown. Sherlock decides to make the sailor his pet. Slowly the two come to an understanding. This is an excellent fairy tale AU filled with porn and feels. Loved it!
Color Me Your Color, Baby by milou407, 1 chapter. Magical realism. Such a cool take on finding soul mates – when you touch people, they leave their color on you. Soulmates leave deep and permanent markings. When John and Sherlock finally touch, they just know. Lovely.
The Nutcracker by odamaki, 13 k, teen. This is a lovely remix of the Nutcracker story Johnlock style. I love this magical realism AU so much. Sherlock discovers the odd gift his Uncle Rudy has mailed him for Christmas. A doll? What possible use does Sherlock have for a little toy soldier? Gorgeous, and lush with detail, this fic was a delight.
Mouth to Mouth by OssaCordis, 4 k , teen. Magical realism. John can taste people’s emotions in the food they prepare.
With Eyes Wide Open by cleflink - In which souls are deceptively easy to see and no one can quite figure out what the deal is with Sherlock and John. Magic realism.
The Best Picture of the Human Soul by SwissMiss, 1 chapter. Set in a magical AU in which people’s life experiences spontaneously appear as tattoos on their skin. John and Sherlock grow to know each other until Sherlock must fake his death via Reichenbach. Too sad to read alone. Must immediately go to sequel . . .
Sustained by the Strength of the Colours to Come by SwissMiss, 1 chapter. John and Sherlock are finally reunited. The tattoos on their skin say to each other what they cannot say aloud. Romance, and angst.
Finding John (Inscriptions series) by IronicNarwhal (orphan account) – Everyone is born with a name on their finger of their soulmate. Sherlock has met 24 Johns, and none of them are his.
Sic Gorgiamos Allos Subjectatos Nunc, by etothepii (Sherlock/The Addams Family) 5 k, teen. “Sic gorgiamus allos subjectatos nunc. It’s the family motto.” “What does it mean?” “We gladly feast on those who would subdue us.” Wonderful backstory on John and his unusual family. Feels like a fairy tale. (1st in series)
The Boy Who Drank Stars by kinklock, 36 k, explicit. A gorgeous fairy tale of a fic fusion with “Howl’s Moving Castle.” The author drew from both the story and the movie to make this amazing magical tale of the mysterious Wizard Howl, and wounded veteran John Watson who stumbles upon him. Magicial, sweet, mysterious – this is an all-around winner!
savage Calum back at it again
there are multiple reasons why i love slam dunk.
this little shit
this little shit
this little shit
this little shit
and this
Boyfriends ♥
I love how it could be that Sherlock is just taller thus him being the one to hold up the rope but noooooooooo
How do I cram a 30 page paper that’s due tomorrow morning? HELP ME
This always makes me laugh!
Send help
“If a clock could count down to the moment you meet your soul mate, would you want to know?”
omg yes
lol yes, so then i can shave.
Because I’m a morbid asshole this is what I began thinking of:
You look at it nearly every day. It’s still up there, years away in fact, and that’s fine. But sometimes you watch it. You watch the number tick away and you wonder and you dream and you try not to expect too much because you know no matter what it’ll be perfect. One a year when it becomes the exact future anniversary you watch it and count down to 0 and get giddy. Only ten more years. Only seven more years. Only four more years.
Then one day you wake up. You stretch. You smile. You check. Just because. And something is wrong. All the numbers say 0. Something horrible has happened.
They’re dead.
but why
why would you post something like that
Oh, god, I’m going to end up writing a -
fuck. Sorry.
—
From the day Sherlock could count, the clock on his wrist had confused him.
“But what does it do?” he asked his mother disdainfully. “What is it’s purpose?”
His mother just smiled down at him and rubbed over the spot on her own wrist. Sherlock could see that it was down to all zeros. Time had run out, but he didn’t know what it was timing. She crouched down next to him and took his wrist in her hand, glancing down at it for a moment.
“One day,” she said, “you’re going to meet someone. The most important person you’ve ever met. Then, the clock will say zero.”
“It’s counting down to the day I meet someone?” Sherlock questioned. His tone was near disgusted. “That’s ridiculous. What’s the point of that? And don’t say I’m too young to understand. That doesn’t work.”
She shook her head and repeated, “the most important person you’ve ever met, Sherlock.”
“I don’t like people,” Sherlock said adamantly. “They’re annoying.”
She stood back up and ruffled his hair fondly, ignoring his huffs of protest. “You’ll understand, when it happens,” she assured, walking away. Sherlock frowned at the floor and stomped off to the sitting room to read, angry that his mother wouldn’t give him a straightforward explanation.
Later on, as he managed his way through boredom and bullies and endless hours of school, he started hearing more about it. Excited quips from girls, squealing and showing each other their wrists. He would sneak around and listen, struggling through their annoying giggles long enough to finally hear; the timer counting down to the day you’d meet the most important person you’d ever meet. Your soul mate.
The words made him cringe in digust. The fact that he even had a working timer was horrid; it meant he’d end up meeting someone he would be deigned to remain with for the rest of his life. How could someone stand a single person for such a long amount of time?
The time on his wrist, by age ten, still read over 40 years.
—
John spent more time than he liked to admit thinking about what his soul mate would be like.
What colour is their hair? What are their interests? Do they like sports, or do they prefer to read? What do they do? What’ll they think of me?
The final question, he knew, was ridiculous; they’d love him, just as he’d love them. That was how it worked. The question was always nagging at his mind, though.
He was something of a romantic, you could say. He liked the idea of lying around with someone, cuddling with them on cold days and teasing, flirting like no one else mattered.
He hadn’t even met his soul mate and he was enamoured of them.
The time on his wrist read 30 years on his first day of medical school, and he wondered why he was one of the few who had to wait so long. He continually told himself it would be worth it, eventually.
—
It was the first proper case Lestrade had actually, legitimately, asked Sherlock to come to, and he was being harassed about his timer.
“For god’s sake!” he shouted, practically ripping his sleeve as he tugged it back down. “Yes, I do have one, yes, it is functioning!”
Anderson was sneering at him from a distance and Sherlock had half a mind to chin him right then.
“Jesus, calm down, Sherlock!” Lestrade exclaimed, holding his hands up defensively. “It’s just - you know, a surprise. For you.”
“Not like I ruddy well control whether or not I have one,” the detective hissed, absentmindedly rubbing his wrist.
The rest of the people in the room glanced around awkwardly, hands unconsciously touching the marks on their own arms. Lestrade kept eyeing Sherlock in a way he believed to be inconspicuous until Sherlock finally snapped and remarked, “is it proof enough?”
“Proof of what?” Lestrade questioned, confused.
“Proof enough for you and your team that I’m a human being, even if I’d rather not be.”
Lestrade expression fell and he looked away, internally upset with himself. “How much time is left?”
“What’s it your business?” Sherlock muttered.
The time had jumped from ten years to twenty yesterday afternoon, and he berated himself for feeling anything by it.
—
Burning.
It was the only word present in John’s mind. Bloody accurate in so many senses. Burning desert sun, burning bullet embedded in his shoulder, burning ground against his back, burning throat as he let out strangled cries and raggedly inhaled dust.
Pain nearly covered it, but burning was more specific.
On top of the searing in his shoulder (searing worked pretty well, too), there was a hard throbbing in his right wrist, and he could see behind his eyes that the number of days until he met his soul mate were spinning rapidly, counting down.
Hell, maybe they’re dead, too, he thought. The burning sun became blotched out with black spots and John was lost to the world, writhing in the dirt unconsciously.
—
Sherlock’s eyes snapped open and he cried out in surprise, gripping his arm and working his jaw through an unexpected throb of pain. That… Definitely didn’t feel right.
He did a once-over of his arm and found nothing wrong until his eyes passed over his wrist. The numbers all read zero in dark red font and Sherlock’s expression faltered.
Just the day before they’d read four years, nine months. Something had gone wrong.
—
John’s eyes flew back open and he wheezed, trying to work against the pain in his lungs as he scraped along for air.
Broken ribs, his mind supplied. You’ve just had a heart attack, too. Don’t forget the bullet wound, of course. Sorry, you were thinking about your soul mate? Good bloody luck.
If he’d had enough oxygen, John would’ve shouted for it to shut up. He could feel hands working on him, inexperienced and trembling, moving too fast, too shoddy.
“Stay with me, mate,” the soldier begged. “God help us.”
—
Sherlock watched as the numbers started re-appearing.
1 day, 2 days. 3. 4. 5. 6.
They jumped back down to zero and his stomach flipped. They started over.
… 10, 12, 15, 22.
0.
7, 17, 20.
The detective growled in frustration and rubbed his thumb hard over the mark.
“Make up your mind!” he shouted at it, watching as it climbed to 30 and dropped again. Every time it hit zero, he’d feel a stab of pain in his chest, a heavy weight on his heart.
The number rose once more and stopped at sixty-eight days.
If he felt a swell of warmth and relief, he dismissed it.
—
“John Watson!”
Since returning home, John had stopped checking his wrist. There’d been too much distraction; teary visits from his mum and tense ones from Harry. Trying to find somewhere to stay while he was healing and until he could find a job of some kind.
“I heard you were abroad somewhere, getting shot at! What happened?”
“… I got shot.”
There was something nagging at the back of his head, but he couldn’t place it. He felt different - almost better.
“Come on - who’d want me for a flatmate?”
It wasn’t until he stepped in the door of that lab.
“Mike, can I borrow your phone? There’s no signal on mine.”
John snapped his gaze up and his right hand clenched around the head of his cane. That voice; that gorgeous baritone sent a chill down his spine and made his chest feel like it was inflating.
“Ah - here. Use mine,” he offered breathlessly. Sherlock met his gaze and something flickered over his expression. His eyes darted down to his wrist and he lifted his sleeve just a centimetre - enough to make his breath hitch.
“Mike, give us a moment,” he ordered. Mike eyed them, back and forth, before complying and standing to walk out.
“Be back in ten minutes, mate, I ought to go check on something anyhow,” he said to John before he walked out. Sherlock stood as soon as the door shut and strode over to John, looming over him so close that John had to take a step backwards.
“Does it read zero?” Sherlock hissed. “Plain, grey zero?”
John wet his lips and sputtered a moment. Sherlock rolled his eyes and snatched the cane from John’s hand, taking his arm in the other and shoving up his sleeve.
0000d 00h 00m 00s
“Afghanistan or Iraq?” Sherlock demanded.
“What?” John asked, bewildered.
“Answer the question; Afghanistan or Iraq?”
“Afghanistan,” John managed. “How did you - “
“You were shot. You died, went into cardiac arrest, four times,” Sherlock said.
“How do you know this?” John asked.
Sherlock released John’s arm roughly and undid the cuff on his right arm, holding it out for John to see. The doctor ran a finger over it gingerly, then encircled Sherlock’s wrist with his hand. “Did you know,” Sherlock murmured, “if your soul mate - ” he said the word like it was filthy, but his gaze was still soft ” - dies, you can feel it? It shows up red on your wrist and it physically pains you.”
John swallowed and smiled tightly. “To be quite fair, I think the bullet hurt worse,” he quipped.
“What’s your name?” Sherlock asked.
“John Watson.”
“Sherlock Holmes.”
The two stared at each other in a haze, eyes scanning over each other’s faces like they were committing them to memory.
“You’re looking for a flatmate?” John inquired eventually, softly.
“Not anymore.”
Sherlock grinned and John grinned back, sliding his hand from Sherlock’s wrist to link their fingers together.
“Brilliant.”
I HAVE BEEN LOOKING FOR THIS
I love how a person just saw this completely random post and thought “oh imma johnlock this shit”
If you don’t know what johnlock or tjlc is, run. Run so very very far away and pray that you don’t ever learn what it is. Just go and have a happy life, little dove!
What if John died or fake died. Just think of how Sherlock would react.
He’d phone Mycroft like ‘you saved him right. it’s just a trick. he’s fine right?’ and all he gets is silence.
We saw how John looked like when he was looking at Sherlock’s tombstone and ‘don’t be dead’ line and how silent and how it was a subtle plead, but i’d imagine Sherlock just outright begging. this violent and desperate begging.
*le remembering tsot episode
“Sherlock really looks good against the yellow walls in that reception hall.”
*le mind fizzes out
You know what else are supposed to be glowing in a wedding.
BRIDES!! THAT’S WHAT.
Bands like 5 Seconds of Summer and One Direction are a prime example of why we need feminism. Now you are probably like, Abby what the hell, those bands are both made completely out of males, why are they an example for why we need feminism. If you look at both bands, they both have a fan base prominently made of females. In the music world, both bands are not taken seriously. All of One Direction’s albums have gone straight to #1 and their newest single “Drag Me Down” is currently #1 in over 80 countries. 5 Seconds of Summer’s debut album went straight to #1 in 13 countries and their newest single went straight to #1 in multiple countries. One Direction has broken the Vevo record numerous times, and both bands have recently crushed the record for fastest song to go to #1 without preorder on iTunes. Both bands are currently in the middle of their world tours, playing to thousands of people and having sold out or close to sold out shows every night. So as you can see both bands are very successful, but their success is belittled by the fact that their fans are mostly females ranging from age 13 to age 20. When these bands have success it is dismissed on the account that their fans are “obsessed” and “crazed” and the bands don’t have real talent, they are just pretty. Do you think millions of girls who are in High School and College, making minimum wage, would spend their hard earned money on an album because the people who made it are “pretty.” No they have better things to spend their money on. People buy their music because it is good, it makes them feel good. If roles were reversed and One Direction and 5 Seconds of Summer had mainly male fans you would see them getting treated with respect and getting the attention they deserved, not overlooked for the fact that females like them. Why is it so bad to have a mainly female audience? I can tell you why, society runs on the sole purpose of making everything women enjoy look like a joke. You have seen it with Starbucks, yoga pants, iPhones, even something as simple as Ugg boots. So now we have these two very talented bands not getting the respect they deserve, because females enjoy them, so obviously they are stupid and that is complete and utter bullshit.
this slayed my life