|13 hours ago + 2,184 notes|
made some tiny changes to ch34 because it turns out, of course I should probably read through the fucking chapter before I post it so details and continuity are, like, there
worlds best person
where did my attention span for anything important go
i just want to add single-digit numbers together and go to sleep at the same time i don’t want to be a writer or a person or anything else you know
i just want to be the worlds stupidest, laziest calculator
|22 hours ago + 1 note|
You are free to travel. Pursue a vocation in marketing, as large crowds invigorate you. You make an excellent motivator. Overindulgence is your enemy.
today is number day
send me a number and I will
organize it into a better number I don’t know i like numbers when they’re nice
|23 hours ago + 1 note|
Helena Bonham Carter in Great Expectations
two followers lost means I’m back at having a repeating number
111 GOOD RIDDANCE
ahh this was under a rather long, rather important fanmail so I didn’t see it sorry its late ahh
John had lost sight of Sherlock.
He had lost sight of him, but Sherlock would call out directions to him- “Turn left!” “Up the fire escape!” “Jump the roof, if you can, hurry!”
Of course he could.
He stumbled a bit as he landed on the next roof, a downward jump across a thin, old ally.
“Down this escape! Qui-“
John heard a gunshot, then nothing more. He feared the worst, biting through the pain to get to the escape.
Back in the hospital, all clean lines and white sheets, both men were quiet. John had his bad knee rested on the second chair. Sherlock would never walk without a cane again.
Suddenly, a tiny laugh came from the black-haired man.
“Now I’m like you.”