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Choice*moves quickly towards you and kisses you violently and passionately*
What do you do?
A) Step back quickly and look affronted.
B) Return the kiss with equal passion.
If option A:
*steps back slowly* I'm sorry. *turns and disappears* *loud noises are heard from the bedroom* *appears 20 minutes later with suitcases bulging* I'm very sorry for the misunderstanding. You will never have to deal with that from me again. Farewell. *bows deeply and shuts front door*
If option B:
*pulls you closer* *things begin intensifying* *leads to happenings of a sort I'd rather not put in print*
Thank you for playing.
Blood and TearsVERY IMPORTANT FOR UNDERSTANDING PLEASE READ BEFORE YOU MOVE ON SERIOUSLY GUYS
A/N: This roleplay might be a little bit hard to read, as it was written originally as a Twitter conversation, but I'll try my best to explain:
The characters are Sherlock and John, and the handle for Sherlock is @SAloyciusH and for John is @JHamishW, but since it was a conversation all of Sherlock's text begins with @JHamishW and all John's text begins with @SAloyciusH. Phew! Confusing, no? If you still can't figure out whose is whose, the sulking is Sherlock and the badassery is John. XD (For an even coarser distinction, spelling: Sherlock; not-as-good spelling: John. Sorry love...)
And now that I've probably made it worse by trying to explain, here is Blood & Tears. Enjoy!
@JHamishW *stands in living room attacking the sofa with the riding crop* *does not acknowledge John's entrance into the room*
@SAloyciusH *stares at Sherlock for a moment then shakes head* Wha-no, never mind I do not want to know. *pic
Hard Day's Night It’s been a hard day’s night
John dragged his feet up the stairs. He’d been called into A&E because of a huge fire that had broken out near Westminster, and because of the sheer number of casualties he’d been forced to work nigh on six hours after he’d already worked a 12-hour day at the hospital.
And I’ve been working like a dog
It wasn’t that John particularly minded working at the hospital, but he wished he’d had more than just two hours between times. He was sure that after all that time, Sherlock would’ve had something else explode in the microwave and he’d have to clean that up as well.
It’s been a hard day’s night
John finally reached the top of the staircase and stumbled into the living room to find Sherlock sitting on the sofa with a plate of toast, watching the news on the telly. Without looking up, Sherlock asked, “So how was it?” John
Come Back, JohnJohn, why did you have to go to Waterford today of all days? You know I need you here, and not just to work on the case… -SH
Because Harry pitched a fit and refuses to talk to anyone else. She’s in her forties for christ’s sake! I haven’t got a clue what’s she upset about but Clara called and that’s why I’m going to Waterford. Trust me, I’d rather be back home than going to deal with my sister… -JW
Bullocks: they’re just trying to take you away from me again. At a guess, Clara confiscated the claret and hid it under the duvet in the guest bedroom. Don’t bother with the mixers. Clear it up fast and come back, please. –SH
How- oh never mind. I’ll be back as quick as I can. I’m not thrilled to be going you know. I think I can hear Harry shouting from the front garden. –JW
Oh lor. Ware the busssshes. Annnd say hi to clarr fr me. –SH luck with claret.
Have you been drinking? Never mind. Oh appa
ExhaustionSherlock slumped down facefirst into the couch, his brain overworked from an intense case he'd received from Lestrade a week ago. He'd been going for a week straight without food or sleep, and even he was looking haggard. –SH
John nudged the prone detective and placed a cup of tea on the table near the couch before sitting down his chair. –JW
Sherlock rolled over with a groan. John looked worried at the sight of the detective's overworked face: bloodshot eyes, dark circles, and loose skin from the weight that he didn't need to lose. "Must I, John?" he grumbled. –SH
"Yes" John gave Sherlock a very serious look and pointed at the cup of tea with absolute authority. "Drink it and I'll not pester you for the rest of the day about eating."-JW
Sherlock attempted to give John a death glare, which backfired with Sherlock's extreme tiredness. He sat up groggily and sipped at his tea. He made a face. "Really, John? Milk?" But he finished his tea without further comment, and, wh
Hearts (postlude) It was 18 months later, and John felt time stop as he watched the dark figure falling from the roof of St. Bart’s hospital. He could feel all his memories returning as the figure dropped in slow motion: all his memories of school, of his family, and most importantly, his memories of Sherlock. He remembered the first conversation they’d had, and the last. He realized Sherlock had always remembered those, throughout the past 18 months that they had been in the same flat. He wondered what it must have been like for him: remembering the conversations and the quarrel while John sat next to him, not remembering a word of it. He wished he’d been able to apologize. He had never wanted to say those awful things to his best friend, and every day in Uni and in Afghanistan he had wished he could take them back. Now it was too late. As he watched the only person he had ever cared for falling to his death, he cried without hope of being heard, “I’m sorry S
Party to MurderI need a cuddle buddy if this cold weather is going to continue. Also I will need lots of tea. Earl Grey tea.
SHERLOCK SHALL JOIN YOU! Except that I'm not entirely sure where you live... XD That Earl Grey should do nicely for you, though.
I can have you and John over sometime. -Lestrade.
Sounds great! -SH
You sound excited. Should I be worried?- JW
Mm, depends on what's in the tea... -SH
I've been wanting to have you two over for quite some time, it'll be fun.-GL
Greg, your definition of fun vastly differs from HIS definition of fun. _JW
Sadly, you do have a point -SH
The gun stays at home.- JW
You are telling me that even your consulting detective wouldn't like a nice quiet evening playing chess? He could bring his violin if he likes.
Oh that might cheer him up. I do have to warn you though he will choose to play whatever he likes. No matter how annoying. But it should keep him from shooting anything.-JW
Maybe I'll invite Anderson... that might keep him oc
Hearts (chapter 8)When John passed by his old Uni colleague Mike Stamford in the park, he had no flash of recognition, nor anything to suggest that John had once known the man. Mike recognized John, however, and called him over. John pretended to recognize him, and indeed he had a vague sense that this was someone familiar. They had a short and rather awkward conversation over coffee, and when John mentioned that he was looking for a flat and a flatmate, Mike perked up.
“You’re the second person to mention needing a flatmate today,” Mike said. “Who was the first?” John asked, a bit interested. “Come on, I’ll take you to meet him,” Mike said cheerily, standing up from where they had been sitting.
The morgue of St. Bartholomew’s hospital was not a place one expected to meet a potential flatmate, but that was exactly where Stamford took John. They passed by a pretty young woman in the hallway and she seemed to cringe at the sight of John, but John didn&
Awkward DreamsSherlock froze, every limb pinned to the hard wooden floor, his mouth astonishingly trapped beneath someone else’s matching lips. He attempted to assess his situation. The individual was exceedingly lanky, and very strong, despite his weight. Sherlock felt the pressure of unusual shoes against his ankles. He tried to deduce whether the person was male or female, but his vision was blocked by skin. He could feel longish hair brushing his forehead, but that didn’t tell him very much. Sherlock closed his eyes resignedly and hoped that the person, whoever they were, would get off soon.
After about a minute and a half of excruciatingly awkward silence and immobility, the figure rolled off of Sherlock. Sherlock immediately propped himself on his elbow to see the mysterious figure that had so incapacitated him. He was confronted with a long, angular man with a peculiar sense of style: a tweed jacket, pinstriped shirt, bowtie, red suspenders just visible under the tweed, pants that
The Strange Life (SPN Cast x Reader x SPN) (y/n) always knew she was different from other girls. She won't wear make-up like other girls, absolutely hated dresses and skirts (she'd rather a good pair of baggy-ish jeans), she doesn't really like jewelry, she's a total nerd, she plays in the concert, jazz, and marching band, and she'd listened to classic rock, pop, j-pop, and orchestral music instead of rap or just pop music.
But even with all this strangeness about her, she still had friends that loved her being strange and different. Though what probably attracted most of (y/n)'s friends was her kindness. Always able to lend a hand or offer an ear to anyone who needed it. But we're not here to listen to the whole synapsis of (y/n)'s life. No, we're here to read about the amazing time in her life where (y/n) (l/n) achieved greatness and became a hero to those who know her. This, is the tale about (y/n) (l/n) and how she became the unstoppable girl.
It was a regular su
(Gabriel x Little!Reader) Guardian Trickster 0 "Mamí! Papí! Look what Titi got me!" said little (y/n) as she ran up to her parents, who were watching TV in the living room. Both of them looked to their only child as she climbed up onto the couch with excitement, making the adults laugh. "Oi, princessa, calm down before you break something." laughed her father. (y/n) just giggled and showed her parents what her aunt got her. It was a picture frame, and in the frame was a picture of (y/n) with her parents, her aunt, her uncle, her cousins, and her grandma. Basically, her whole family was in the picture at a picnic. (y/n)'s mother smiled sweetly at her daughter. "That's really nice, (y/n). Did you say 'thank you'?" (y/n) nodded before saying, "I'm gonna keep this picture forEVER!" and so she ran up to her room as her parents smiled and laughed at how cute she was.
As (y/n) was thinking of a good place to put the photo for the past 5 minutes, she heard her mother scream and glass breaking.
(SPN x Reader) Jumping Realities (y/n) (l/n). Nothing too special about her really. She's doing great in school. She had great friends to support her. But really nothing that would make the papers. She was just a normal girl in the world. That was true...until the day everything changed. Let me tell you the story of how (y/n) (l/n), a girl who was just another face in the crowd, turned into one impossible girl.
~June 14th, Bethlehem, Pennsylvania~
"So, haunting then?" Dean asked his younger brother, Sam. "Seems like it. Cas, you ready?" Cas, or Castiel, nodded indicating he was ready for the case. "Alright, let's salt and burn this bitch." Dean said as the trio, AKA Team Free Will, got into the 1967 Chevy Impala and drove to their destination.
~Meanwhile in another reality (our world)~
"(Y/N)!!" Zoe, (y/n)'s best friend, squealed. (y/n) turned around at the sound of her name being said and smiled widely. "Hey, girl! 'Sup with you?" Zoe ran up to her an
The Strange Life (SPN Cast x Reader x SPN) 3 (y/n) paced in her motel room, trying to understand what some random dude would want with her. Was it the way she thought things through differently than others? Was it some kind of family hatred thing? Her family didn't have any enemies as far as she knew. What was so special about her? "UGH!" (y/n) groaned in frustration, ready to flip a table in anger. She hated not knowing the reason why this mystery guy is threatening people's live to TEST her. In her moment of frustration, she threw the empty bottle of Malta (search it up or whatevers) and chucked it to the farthest wall, ending with a satisfying shatter.
A knock at the door interrupted (y/n)'s thoughts. She composed herself and answered the door to see Misha, Jared, and Jensen. (y/n) raised an eyebrow. "Yes?" she asked, wondering why they would want to see her. "Hey." they all said in unison. Misha spoke, "Could we come in?" (y/n) shrugged and stepped aside to allow them to walk in.
(SPN x Reader) Jumping Realities 4 (y/n) was beginning to panic. She always did have trouble with anxiety. Anyway, as she began to hyperventilate, a lot of terrible thoughts went through her mind like, 'What if she wasn't human?' and 'What if they have to kill me?' Her mind kept producing more and more horrible theories on the situation and information she had in front of her and now she was starting to have trouble breathing. The boys caught on to this quickly and realized that the 14-year-old girl wasn't coping well and wasn't understanding what's happening to her. That's when Castiel took his two fingers to her forehead and knocking her out to calm down.
~Back at the motel~
Sam, Dean, and Castiel sat around (y/n) as she lay on one of the beds, piecing together the little bit of information they had to see if the kid was really human. So far, every test and piece of info lead to the conclusion that she was either human with some weird ability or something they ca
(SPN x Reader) Jumping Realities 2 Dean, Sam, and Castiel arrived at the motel they plan to stay at. Sam decided to get the room keys while Dean and Cas got their stuff. As the team began to walk to their room, Castiel had a strange feeling about the girl Sam had taken the liberty to carry. She was human, he knew that, but something was off. He decided to check later to see if she had a soul. That might be it.
Soon everyone settled into the room and silently watched the sleeping girl on one of the beds. "Cas," Sam began and Castiel turned his attention to him. "what do you think that light was? Did it bring her to that road?" Castiel turned back to the girl, "I don't know honestly, but something about her feels off." Dean and Sam exchange worried looks before turning their attention to the girl who was starting to wake up.
(y/n) sucked in a big breath as she woke up. She didn't want to, really, but the bed was too comfortable. Wait, bed? Suddenly the memories of what just happen
The Strange Life (SPN Cast x Reader x SPN) 2 "Freedom!" (y/n) yelled as she ran out of the hospital with Misha, Mark (Sheppard), Richard, Jared, and Jensen. All the guys laughed at how dramatic she was. "Sheesh, kid. You were only there for a week. Whatever that doctor was saying with that weird healing thing that's happening to you, it was a miracle." Jensen said. (y/n) shrugged. In that week, she got to know the cast better and soon became good friends. (y/n) then thought of the convention when a thought came to her. "The convention's in 2 hours! I gotta get my snuff!" and with that, the guys saw (y/n) run to the motel she was staying at. Jensen turned to Jared. "'Snuff'?"
~Later at the convention~
The cast was sitting in their respectful seats and ready to get started, but they realized that their new friend wasn't there. They wondered if she was just a little late and only hoped for that. Soon it was time for fans to ask questions and the first fan came up and asked their question that
(SPN x Reader) Jumping Realities 3 "Alright, kid. If you're gonna join us on hunts then you gotta know how to shoot." Dean said as he brought (y/n) to a shooting range. "Alright." she said as she walked on the side of him. Sam and Castiel were currently working on a case while Dean took (y/n) for training. Dean thought it was funny, having a teenage girl as a new member to their team. On their ride to the town, they got to know her better. Like how she likes classic rock and how tomboy-ish she is. Dean already felt like she was part of the family. He was surprised to learn that (y/n)'s parents allowed her to go solo on the road trip she planned to do for that month, but, hey, he wasn't her father so he had no say in this whole 'what's the right parenting' thing.
When Dean and (y/n) were inside (y/n) asked, "So, what am I shooting first? A pistol?" Dean smiled at her. "Yep. You know your gun safety?" "Yeah, my dad took me shooting a couple times." "Alright then show me what you know." (y/n) too
Hearts (chapter 7)After leaving medical school, John joined the army as a medic. After four years he was sent to Afghanistan, which was a living hell. John saw friends gunned down beside him while he lay helpless in a trench. He saw many young soldiers that he was unable to save because they had lost so much blood. A young woman that he had thought he had loved was killed while John watched. And still he survived. Something kept him going and kept him from harm. One day while his company was in the trenches, shooting and being shot, John was yelling at a friend to get down when he himself was shot in the shoulder. He remembered very little of that afternoon, except that everyone else died save one young man who inexpertly attempted to help take care of the wound. The few weeks went by with John hardly noticing a thing. When he finally emerged from his quasi-comatose state, he could remember almost nothing except that last battle. He could recite his mother’s phone number and street address, he cou
a dangerous hallucinationThe light coming through the window was bright,
much too bright.
Even though my eyes were closed
I could see it-
The skin of my arms prickled,
sweat dripped from my brow.
It was two in the afternoon but…
the sun was setting
through the window facing east.
I should have seen the hutch,
shelves lined with bone china
decorated with delicate leaves and vines.
I was so thirsty
and reaching for cups that should have been there.
Instead I found a billboard of butterflies,
the colors raging
more than any rainbow
I'd ever seen.
Their wings fluttered and flashed
yet somehow they moved in slow motion.
I wanted to stand,
wanted to reach out and touch them but…
I couldn't move,
and yet I laughed
ignoring my dry mouth
and the tingling in my feet.
There was a tempest
on the rise
and in my blood.
A sugar rush disguised
as a riot of butterflies
and they were swarming me.
There was a small vial
of insulin in my pocket
that I nev
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