Hello, all. It is time for WRITING CHAT THINGY. As I have taken to calling it. For those who are new around these parts, it's a group chat where we share prompts to write fifteen minute ficlets. If you haven't come before but want to try it out, don't be afraid to stop by
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But not right now. Her best friend - and potential girlfriend - kills your father for no reason at all, then yes, it makes Maura look at all of the glaring differences between the two of them. It makes her wonder what made her fall in love with Jane in the first place.
It’s been three months and she still can’t look Jane in the eye. She remembers a time when she could drown in those eyes if one could actually drown in an iris. Maura’s read body language enough to see the way that Jane’s eyes look at her, how protective she gets, and how that protective nature would produce an evolutionary response of choosing Jane as a prospective mate, but what she feels felt? is so far past science that she ( ... )
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Whatever connection they had, they fragile peace between friendship and love, is fractured, as though Jane shot through that too.
is just gorgeous.
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That's the nub of the matter.
I like the characterisation in this piece too, the way Maura (not a fumbling person by nature) fumbles her way to some kind of start of a resolution.
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If any of that made any sense. The mood is perfect, and an intriguing glimpse into this universe!
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The connecting parts aren't important, anyway. They matter when you aren't really saying anything, when you bury what you really mean inside layers of falsehoods and half-truths like he does, but when she speaks, she isn't hiding anything. What she says is what she means to say- no bullshit.
It's the stupidest fucking thing he can imagine ever choosing to do. It's the only reason that he stays silent while she talks.
When she's done, he doesn't have a clue what she said or how she got there. He's glad he listened
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I love that phrase so so much. This whole scene is just lovely and so right.
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meant to last?
how can we tell,
that which is permanent
fixed point in time
from the transient--the elusive?
a point--grounded in time, space--
that stands to guide everything else.
is that point one that can be salavaged
put together again when there’s so much
pain, blood, horror wrapped around it?
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It is also possible to fit this into the poems from The Sonnet Series, but who knows...
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<3
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JOOOOOOOOOHN.
<333333333
This is everything I love about John: the quiet, solid support and the putting up with Sherlock's shenanigans. ALL THE FEELS.
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