Number_i
FC birthday video for 2025
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Not today Justin
Show & Tell
Three Goblin Art

Discoholic 🪩
YOU ARE THE REASON
Monterey Bay Aquarium
One Nice Bug Per Day
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

blake kathryn

@theartofmadeline
art blog(derogatory)

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
ojovivo
Jules of Nature

Product Placement

Origami Around
taylor price

roma★
wallacepolsom

seen from United States
seen from T1
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seen from Singapore
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seen from France
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seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from Mexico
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seen from Türkiye

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@throughtheparadox
Number_i
FC birthday video for 2025
Hello!!
Are you alright? Hopefully things are fine.
Just noticed you've been inactive in tumblr for quite some time, so I thought I'd check. Anyways, hope things are okay!!
And, I just wanted to say I love your Adlock Fics!! They're Brilliant!! Thank you for your contribution to the Adlock Tag!!
Take Care!!
Goodbye :)
hello!!! omg i haven't opened this blog for a while but i'm doing good. thanks for checking in on me and thanks for appreciating my fics..i miss writing them but i cant find the right ideas 😭
listen to my heart beat
and to think Sho choreographed and directed this 🥰🥰🥰
You guys must be high.
装苑 20200728 ❷
i'll miss these when miman ends
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
HAHAHAHAHAHA OMG after 3 years I finally managed to update this. I'm so horrible. Does anyone still care? Idk. But I'm pushing through with it again anyway. :)
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In Crimson and Noir Chapter 8 excerpt:
What if Moriarty could understand emotions and connections and relationships more than he could imagine? What if his words -- "I'll burn the heart out of you" -- is not a challenge, not a warning, not even taunting but rather... conditioning. Just like a good old storyteller foreshadowing the climax of his own fairytale.
What if...
"She's the only one remaining in Moriarty's network," Sherlock muttered before he can even catch himself.
John looked up at him bewildered, obviously making him realise that hours had already passed since he trailed off in between their conversation. He was confused to see the doctor's face suddenly change in expression from slight amusement to worry.
"What do you mean?" John asked, drawing in closer to examine him. "Sherlock, are you all right? You look pale."
"I... what..." Sherlock stuttered, but still brushed aside his own confusion. "John... When Mary, when you found out Mary was an assassin, remember what I told you?"
John's brows furrowed even deeper, searching Sherlock's eyes for any sort of explanation. Seeing as he isn't close to getting one, at least in that second, he replied, "Yes. You... You told me that... that I chose her."
"Yes, and that you we're addicted to a certain lifestyle... a certain profile of sorts and..." Sherlock stumbled, his mind reeling to the possibilities of his own deductions.
i'm checking some #adlock fanfic notifs recently and i realised.... In Crimson and Noir is still apparently a work in progress??? hahaha. how come i forgot to update from 2017? daheck?
anan No.2195
originally scanned & uploaded by YOYOYUAN是神楽坂真紅绿担
me: *tries a dating app*
also me: fcking swipes left at everyone and everything
Melody And Memory (An Adlock Ficlet)
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(A/N: After 50 years, I managed to at least go back and write a ficlet. Hahahah. It's been a while so I'm rusty af but I still hope you enjoy it. Adulting is crazyyyyyy so fic writing has been haaaard. Happy New Year, y'all!)
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The festivities were over. The Christmas lights and ornaments were put away back to their boxes. The journey to another year was about to begin.
And he was back to being alone. Again.
Sherlock never imagined that he would hate the feeling of being alone. After all, his habit of dismissing people to isolate his thoughts from the noisy reality is one of his proud habits. But after years of being around John, Mary, and now the pattering sounds of his godchild Rosie's footsteps becoming a familiar ambient presence, he can't help but miss company especially during the 'joyous' occasion. Not that he would admit it out loud.
It's even harder when gets started on the mere idea of her. The holidays always remind him of The Woman. She often visits his mind palace on instances like this, her imprinted smile as real as his own breathing. Rarely does she visit in the flesh, to his dismay, ever since Mycroft advised that her frequent returns have caused him constant security conundrums.
"Don't let the nation suffer on the account of your love affair," his brother previously remarked to his annoyance.
Sherlock scoffed at the memory. He was agitated, uneasy, and most importantly, lonely. Simply lonely.
He reached for his violin almost mindlessly, her tune immediately echoing in the room as his fingers reached the strings. He wondered about her, hoping that she wasn't too busy to not at least think of him in passing, too. Hours droned on and he got lost in thought and melody, with her likeness filling in his senses in the most tangible way possible.
As the night got deeper, his fingers started to ache but he still played on. Every note resonated in accordance to a memory, a feature, a sensation.
To the point that he could even smell her perfume.
Wait, he thought, it can't be. It was too real, too strong, too... alluring... to just be his memory -- no matter how much he trusts his memories of her.
He paused playing and opened his eyes, only to be greeted by none other than Irene Adler herself sitting opposite him.
"Don't stop playing on my account," she said smoothly, her red-lipped smile nothing but familiar.
He studied her, analysing every curve and lash and movement to ensure she wasn't just his imagination. And finally, he stood up and went to reach her, sore fingers gently touching her hair like playing a subtle note on the violin. of course, she responded the opposite, all passion, fierceness, and no subtlety. Holding his hand entirely, she gave him a bright smile, a smile she only dedicates for him, as she planted a kiss on his fatigued wrist.
Real. All real.
Sherlock felt a huge wave of staggering relief, mixed with something deeper, richer, and undeniably sentimental. And yet he can't help but point out the obvious.
"Does Mycroft know you're here?" he asked despite already having an inkling of her answer.
She stood up to meet him closer, his hand still on hers. With her lips brushing the tip of his chin, she replied, "When have I ever played by the rules, Sherlock Holmes?"
"Happy New Year, Miss Adler," was all he managed to say, a smile playing in his lips as he finally closed in the gap between them.
Imagine the Marauders finding out about Remus’s furry little problem at the towards the end of first year.
Imagine James, who always thought it was his most grand duty to protect his friends, lying down in his four poster, imagining Remus clawing at himself not a hundred yards away. Imagine him not being able to sleep no matter how hard he tried because the walls suddenly seem too thin and he can hear every scream piercing through the air.
Imagine Sirius going home to Walburga Black for the first time after he got sorted and hearing her scream about Gryffindor house being filled with mudbloods and filthy half-breeds and thinking that if his mother thought his best friend was a monster, he was probably far from it.
Imagine Peter scrubbing trophies at midnight for detention because he refused to turn in an essay that detailed on how to properly tame a werewolf so that it can be killed.
Imagine these twelve-year-olds, brave and scared, standing by the shack, hidden underneath the invisibility cloak, watching as Remus chased around Peter’s cat, never hurting it, just like it said in the book in the library that Sirius had picked up earlier that day.
Imagine James, Sirius and Peter sitting in the common room that morning, the sun barely up, giving Remus his space up in their dorm as they looked around at each other, their silence picking up where their words failed them. Protect him.
Imagine the ¾ Marauders sitting around in their dormitory and telling Remus that evening that they know he would disagree to this but they were going to be for him at his weakest. Imagine James pulling out a 1000 paged book that read “Introduction to Animagi.”
Random question since I'm thinking of watching Death Note again:
What will you do if you received a Death Note? Plus, how do you think owning one will change you?
I'm planning to use the responses on a video with your permission. Please DM or reply! :)
important reminder
He embraced the void and just gave so many people the courage to exist.
THIS.
“Queer people exist. Choosing not to accept them is not an option. To anyone watching this that isn’t out, it’s okay. You’re okay. You were born this way, it’s right, and anyone that has a problem with it is wrong. Based on your circumstance, you might not feel ready to tell people yet or, that it’s safe, and that’s fine too, just know that living your truth with pride is the way to be happy. You are valid, it gets so much better, and the future is clear. It’s pretty queer.”
— Daniel Howell, “Basically I’m Gay”