Anonymous said: I love how you write Sherlock and Irene XD it's so spot on
Thanks, anon. That’s an awfully nice thing to say. It’s what we writers strive to do: on-spot characterisation. :) (well i can’t speak for everyone but that’s mostly how i want it heehee)
- Old Guy: You know what a ber is?
- Me: Ber? DecemBER? OctoBER?
- Old Guy: Ber...Action Words...Ber.
- Me: ...
smellslikeoldspirit said: I'm loving all of your responses to the prompts you received!
Thanks a lot. I still have two more in the queue and I’m thinking up ways of writing them. Thanks for sending prompts, too. They’re a great way to chill. :)
(you can send me more if you want heehee)
Anonymous said: Prompt: Sherlock telling Irene he loves her for the first time. Fluff?
Contrary to popular belief, he didn’t say those infamous three words in the throes of passion nor in a situation teetering to and fro life and death. He didn’t say I love you in a candle-lit dinner or in the middle of an audience. There were no fireworks, no constellation of stars, no flowers, not even tears.
Sherlock Holmes always thought his deep sentiment for Irene was implied in shared glances, whispers of touch, and kisses. But then it happened, one evening in Baker Street, no preamble whatsoever.
He just got back from yet another mad case from the Yard when he heard the faint footfalls of stilettos on hard wood. The Woman. He went up to his flat only to find the scent of oriental vanilla taint the air. Nothing more.
He went to his bedroom and The Woman was not there.
Part of him thought he was going mad. That maybe his Mind Palace must be conjuring so potent imagery that they could have translated into the physical. He began to lie down in his bed, hands steepled over his mouth, only to find The Woman in his blue dressing gown strutting into his room.
Her face was free of make-up. Her hair still glistened from the steam of the shower. Rivulets of water dripped from her wavy tresses down to the porcelain sliver of skin the dressing gown did not manage to cover up. Her cheeks were the shade of rose, although not as pink as a baby’s but the vintage tint of age and wisdom. Her eyes were their usual bejewelled blue of danger and mischief.
She was standing by the door, simply staring at him. She wasn’t even greeting him with her usual smirk. She didn’t bother to rush to place her mouth over his. She was just there.
For now, that was enough.
In the calm of their silent reunion, he couldn’t help thinking that here she was and she was beautiful.
Suddenly, the sentiment he had deduced from the day he first laid his eyes on her, from the moment he raised that talward sword to save her, from the time he had become his ally from one crime syndicate to another, from periods of absence and reunion, bubbled up, unbidden into his lips.
"I love you."
Anonymous said: Sherlock unconsciously hurt Irene's feelings (perhaps he denies everything they have for each other) but then eventually realizes his mistake and apologizes her in Sherlock's way ;)
Sherlock was never known for his proper conduct and decorum. It is safe to say that it is best to leave Sherlock out of areas like social interaction and proper human functioning. It never bothered him. Yes, it was uncomfortable to always be the “odd one out” but one gets used to the isolation. He can barely stomach the idea of suppressing his mental superiority in order to “fit in” with commonplace idiots, like so many people seem to do so easily.
But there are times, though rarely, that he wishes he were different.
"In what universe would your jealousy concern me, Irene?" He said in mock ire. What he believed would only warrant him a simple smirk actually gave him a stinging red mark shaped vaguely like a hand stretched across his left cheek and the resounding clacks of The Woman’s heels fading away from him.
The Woman rarely visits 221B. She comes and pleases as she goes. This time, however, she came to find Sherlock in a quiet embrace with another woman in his bedroom.
The moment her heels landed on the pale floor of Sherlock’s bedroom, both parties sat straight but only one of them was surprised. “Oh, please. Do go on. Don’t stop on my account,” she said with a shrug. ”Well, you do have a way with entrances, Irene,” Sherlock said as he approached her.
I wish people would send me Adlock prompts.
Please send me Adlock prompts.
One of the biggest problems of media in the Philippines is sensationalism. One example of said problem is this article from Rappler. The headline read:
Former official: Rigged bids in Makati under VP binay, wife
I have many ethical violations to point out in this article but first and most important of all is the fact that Rappler published the accusation without proper documentation. Part of the article read:
"He admitted, however, that he does not have any of the alleged hand-written notes."
One of the guiding principles of journalists is truthfulness. I don’t believe it is ethical for Rappler to publish such a news story with such a misleading headline without first confirming the validity of their information. They don’t have the proper documentation to support the allegation thereby making the article inaccurate.
The second problem with this article is the fact that the headline is very misleading. If you haven’t read the rest of the article, the readers would assume that the accusation was true since they did not indicate that it was only an allegation. Also, they didn’t indicate the reason of why they have to make the official anonymous in the headline. They mentioned the name of the official later on in the article, why couldn’t they do the same in the headline? The public is entitled to as much information especially when an issue as this concerns them. The description “former official” also isn’t enough to assure the audience of the credibility of the source.
The hamartia of this article is the fact that they published such a news story with poorly acquired information. This goes against the truthfulness journalists should uphold. News is a public service, not a popularity contest.
Sod what I said.
All we do is write, write, write, write, write, write, write, write, write.
I love it.