#* :d

[canine-teethed-sheets]

pspspsps @psycho-chair .......

yknow that thing where i said i'd give you something a while ago

WELL

SURPRISE MOTHERFUCKER, YER GETTING AN AU JUST FOR YOU

this is an au gift for my good great buddy, Chair!! he likes fire and is very passionate about and it likes cross too so upon MY revelation, i thought to just merge the two together and BADA BING BADA BOOM!!

info under cut :]

this chair is a gardener and keeper of a rare species of Apilonan, a flower that is fire itself and brings marvelous sparks of light at night! however, it is rare for a reason, as humans and monsters alike are often very callous in keeping it properly, giving the wrong necessities, always keeping it contained in glass jars and etcetera, causing it to be near extinct.

basically fire flower being very rare because ✨wow wow special✨

and you might be wondering, what about that guy there? he looks like a skeleton. WELL THAT BOY THERE IS A CROSS VARIANT MADE OUT OF FIRE KEKEKKEKE!!

he is mostly there to help chair tend the flowers and has no backstory yet (but you can give him one if you wanna, chair :D) he kinda views the gardener as a father figure of sorts, or he could just a normal helper, whatever! he's yours now >:]

enjoy!! :D

[illholy]

a rare occurrence of hunger brings her here. ⸻ the stench of cattle flesh and poultry meat that titillates nothing in her, but here she is nonetheless, with her very empty and very human stomach that has been longing for some kind of meal . . . when was the last time she ate ? Last week ? Last month ? She doesn't remember.

Judith frowns, half lingering displeasure & half dizzy with malnutrition. ❛❛ ah, sorry could you help me find something easy to cook ? Oh and something easy to eat ?  ❜❜ She turns to her butcher ( @sosordid ) hopeful .

❛❛ I don't like chicken, or pork . . . or beef.  ❜❜ She never did have the taste to appreciate a good set of carcass

[today-pepperland-goes-bluey]

A friend called me "that lemon demon kid" and I've never felt more honored

[antialibi]

DECAY AND DISINTEGRATION WERE UGLY THINGS,  INEVITABLE AND PATHETICALLY DEPENDENT UPON TIME AND ENTROPY’S HUNGER.   29 neibolt was not what it used to be,  and it could hardly count as a ‘being’ anymore.  the building which once stood tall and daunting,  grotesque in a mad and disgusting manner,  no longer marred this stretch of concrete nor the blue sky behind it.  the field was overgrown,  but not untidy  (  a display of rare ordered - chaos  )  -  those long,  pale grasses suited the empty and hallow air well.  the tips of the tallest blades scratched against charlotte’s forearm as she walked past,  moving so slowly  /  so calmly towards the small structure that hid behind the grass,  hidden from time and the residents of derry.  no one cared for the strange absence that permeated the radius about the hidden well,  no one save for charlotte.

THE WAY DOWN WAS FAMILIAR AND EASY,  THE SOLID / UNWARPED THUD OF HER FEET ON THE ROUGH GROUND WAS HEARTBREAKING.   time seemed to decay all but the hurt and unburied grief that lived as parasite inside the vessel’s heart.  she drew a breath and strolled onwards,  this was nothing new  /  nothing strange.  loneliness lapped like black lake water at her neck and chin,  but it wouldn’t drown her  -  this charlotte was sure of; for it had already drowned her many times over  (  and over and over and over  )  the past twenty - seven years  -  but it never did so when she was here,  when she came to visit its husk and sit by its side in the centre of an infuriatingly intact reality.  perhaps,  this was home after all.

HER KNAPSACK RATTLED NOISILY AS SHE SWUNG IT UPWARDS AND BACKWARDS.  the ground had become dusty and grimy in the time she had spent away,  the space no longer exempt from the very real,  very natural accumulation of earthly matter.  bootprints stamped into the ground as charlotte closed the distance between her and the husk,  her knapsack disturbing the dust as it hit the ground with a solid thwack.  gravity did not complain as the vessel surrendered her weight and plopped down at the husk’s side.  her denim - clad knee knocked against its corpse - shoulder,  grime ‘pon the half - decayed gossamer transferring to her jeans.  the vessel sighed and briefly drummed twig - like digits against her kneecap.  so this is what you consider home,  muttered her pet,  this sad,  hollow place.   “  yes,  it’s home,  ”   she remarked,  sound travelling about the cistern at an excruciatingly normal and plausible manner.  clear - grey eyes fell ‘pon pennywise’s stone face.   “  or,  at least it used to be.  ”

* PLOTTED STARTER :  @traumnas !

[everythingisundercontrolmaybe]

A theory on “Eurus”

Is Eurus really the third Holmes sibling? Did she ever disguised herself as someone else? Does she actually exist?

Or could she be nothing more than an imagination of John, if we believe that the last episode was his TAB, or perhaps Sherlock’s, if you believe otherwise. I think it is quite possible that after being shot, John “lived” through the events which actually happened in The Lying Detective again, adding his thoughts or feelings, of which Eurus, or the concept of her, is one of them.

The woman on the bus could’ve been real, but it didn’t have to be Eurus. The scene in which “Eurus” reveals she was John’s affair the whole time, she suddenly has the flower in her hair. Weird, was it really planned by this “evil genius” or just a construct of John’s imagination. Maybe his guilt trying to find an explaination as to why he felt the way he did towards the woman, because of course would he fall for her if an evil holmes genius manipulated him into it, or something of sorts. 

I do think John went to a therapist, but she wouldn’t have been Eurus. Eurus in this case could be John’s repressed side, including rage and anger, thoughts he deems as “dangerous”, “unhuman” and “cold” (going back to war times”I had bad days” and he did shot a stranger in the first episode for sherlock) , but also clever, brilliant and observing (we have seen he is capable of them in form of mary). He admires the positive sides in Sherlock and tries to regulate the negative one, but he can’t do that for himself. He sets high standards under which he suffers. Sherlock does seem to notice that in some extent, but who knows if that even happened. 

Faith could be how Sherlock sees John or how John thinks/ wishes(?) Sherlock sees him. It made quite clear that she is similar to John, the series even shows Sherlock being reminded of John.

Eurus as a kid on the plane is probably how John sees his relationship with Sherlock. He is helpless and lost without him and even when people are around him, they can’t do anything against that feeling of loneliness, only Sherlock can help him and it’s always about Sherlock atleast in John’s mind).

But that’s just a theory, a conspiracy theory! 

If there was something, that doesn’t make sense or something to add please write so.

[khreborns]

What would a situation ship between y/n and Reborn look like? Y/N has been pursuing him for years.

╰┈➤     (✿˵•́ ૩•̀˵)৴♡*    This was sent on August 27, 2024, that was 389 days ago. FORGIVE ME, BABY. With that said 'situationship' , so I'll take it there is a spark of interest there in regards to Reborn! Let's cook and see where we land!

.𖥔 ˖ PAIRING  :  y / n × Reborn .𖥔 ˖ WARNING  : Pre-establish relationships, no beta reading, might have clerical errors .𖥔 ˖ GENRE : Hurt-Comfort, angst, Fluff (?)

.𖥔 ˖  REBORN & HOW DIFFICULT HE CAN BE . .ᐟ.ᐟ

He has done this before you know! The game of cat & mouse (audacious of you to think you could hunt him down really.) ⸻ Reborn has been more than enough tolerant, patient in all capacities when he very much could just gun you down, throw your body in a ditch, you should understand, you've been so utterly disrespectful. But he doesn't, gracious as he is. ( he calls it mercy, ignores the rampant thumping of his heart, that sore dull feeling of dread looming. When Reborn looks at you, there is a blight of light just above your head, halo, godly and blinding, he could almost kneel. )

It's unrelenting, the chasing, the almost catching and the ultimate losing : This will be hard on you, this will be HUMILIATING. But hounds does not chase without a scent and you are spoored into him, you are somewhere there etched in his heart, you know this, he knows this, and yet! yet! yet!

No one wins, not really. But respite comes at some random Sunday, when you're too sleepy to coherently open your door, but you do cause you know it would be him and he is in your lap, laying there forlorn, almost yours, but just that, almost. Why won't he ever stay? He doesn't tell you the many excuses he listed, ( Not that you'd listen anyway. )

This is HUMILIATING too, it's soft here, but he feels the weight of indulgence crush his bones. Home is where you are, (He doesn't deserve it. ) Home he finds is when he is in your arms, ( He doesn't deserve you) before the sun breaks, he leaves as he always has and you'll come and get him as you always have.

[thesewersofparis]

ohfantine replied to your post “someone take me to a gay bar so i can smile at girls without feeling...”

I recommend gay bookshops also because they have all of the gay and none of the pressure

i mean that does sound super great but i feel like its less likely to find one here + i think id actually need that bit of pressure to even talk to anyone lol