#i had to drop everything immediately. this movie literally broke my art block

[almond-gallery]

smoking gun

[ao3porcelainstorm]

poison ivy & stinging nettles 20

On Ao3

Pairing: Sherlock/OFC

Rated: M

Warnings: eventual violence, torture, swears, adult themes (no explicit smut)

Chapter 19 - Chapter 21 

Chapter 20- Rosemary

“We found him,” Mycroft explained a week later at the Diogenes Club.

“He turned himself in,” Sherlock translated briskly, crossing his arms.

“Regardless, he’s under lock and key,” his brother looked to Amelia. “Her Majesty’s Government intends to move quickly toward Magistrate’s Court and we will require your statement.”

“You have my statement,” Amelia replied, arching a brow.

“In person,” he clarified.

“Absolutely not,” Sherlock interjected. “It’s hardly been any time since Moriarty-”

“All the more reason to move forward with haste,” Mycroft countered sharply. “While the evidence is still fresh.” His eyes drifted toward the healing wounds on Amelia’s wrist.

“We have no idea the extent of the abuse,” Sherlock shook his head. “There isn’t enough evidence to move forward yet. Not while we’re still working through everything. We can’t risk him being let off.”

“Between Chemco, my uncle, and the kidnapping alone, that should be enough, right?” Amelia asked the elder brother, who nodded slowly. “That’s what the case is all about at this point.”

“If we’re so fortunate to have additional evidence by the time of the proceeding, we will adjust our case a necessary,” Mycroft closed a file on his desk and looked to Sherlock firmly. “Do not let your emotions cloud your judgment, brother mine. It’s unbecoming.”

He confirmed the details with Amelia, assuring her that Anthea would be in touch later that week.

Sherlock all but stormed out of the club, throwing up a hand to summon a taxi. Amelia hurried over, pulling his hand down and squeezing it between hers.

“Why don’t we walk a bit?” she suggested, pulling him along without too much of a struggle.

Sherlock knew he wasn’t mad at Mycroft or Amelia for that matter- he was mad at Moriarty. Everything was ticking along, Sherlock was certain, to the madman’s plans.

He had hoped that Amelia would have had more time to adjust to things again. Heal. But of course, things were never easy for Sherlock. Moriarty was pushing along the court date for a reason. An attack? A grand reveal? Of what?

“There’s steam coming out of your ears,” Amelia commented, a smile tugging at her mouth.

“I don’t like this,” he grumbled, looking over at her.

“I don’t either,” she replied, giving his hand a nervous squeeze. “But it was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“I’d have hoped to help you parse through- things,” he sighed, gesturing in her direction. “If something were to happen and I couldn’t help you-”

“You sound like my mother,” she scoffed, laughing at his offended expression. “Sherlock, we can figure it out. The Magistrate won’t have him or anyone else, aside from people we trust.”

“Until he pays off a guard to stab you in the loo,” he huffed under his breath.

“My, what a dark place your Mind Palace must be,” she tutted. “Surely you have brighter rooms to enjoy? A greenhouse?”

He did, but he would never tell her that it contained every small intricacy he’d picked up on her. Her favorite foods and colours. Favorite songs and movies. Even minute details like what shampoo she preferred.

“I need to stay ahead of him,” he stopped at the side of the walkway, hands on her shoulders. “If anything more were to happen to you, I don’t know what I’d do.”

“Avenge me, I hope?” she teased.

“You have no idea,” he mumbled. He’d tear across the world for this woman and those that hurt her? 

He had a special room in the Mind Palace for recalling those types of things.

Amelia looked at him thoughtfully, reaching up and cupping the side of his face gently.

Her hands were warmer than his.

“We’re a reasonably intelligent bunch,” she assured him with that damned smile. “It’ll be okay, Sherlock. Whatever happens, it’ll be okay.”

“If you die?” he asked, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to her palm.

“I suppose I’ll have to help you from the great beyond,” she laughed. “Though that might prove difficult given your disbelief in ghosts.”

“I’ll hold a seance then,” he offered. “Only once. Just to be sure.”

They continued walking, hand in hand, Sherlock beginning to feel a little lighter as they joked and chatted.

“If I die?” he asked and she paused in thought.

“Don’t even joke, I don’t know what anyone would do without the great Sherlock Holmes,” Amelia answered with a frown. “Think of all the opportunistic criminals! And all the unsolved crimes, you know the Yard is basically useless.”

He knew she was being sarcastic and trying to inflate his ego at the same time, but it didn’t do much to distract him from the problem at hand.

All this joy and peace was at risk. This woman who’d stumbled quite literally into his life and brought with her the the light of the sun itself. She was too good for this nightmare he’d inadvertently brought her into, and he would spend the rest of his life ensuring she never feared another day again.

“Ruthie owns it now,” Amelia broke his train of thought, her hand leaving his to look at the building next to her. They’d made it as far as the old flower shop a few blocks away from Baker Street.

It was now boarded off, the caution tape replaced with plywood and keep out signs. The brick had been cleaned of soot, but largely the place remained unchanged from the day he’d found the Monkshood.

“Have you considered reopening?” he asked, her fingers reaching to touch where the front door used to be.

“Ruthie asked but-,” she gave a low sigh. “I guess I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop with whatever is hiding in my head.”

It was a rare sight to see Amelia deflated. The dynamics of their relationship usually rested upon Sherlock being on the receiving end of a hopeful statement or reassuring comment.

He hesitated, watching her look up forlornly at the upper levels of the shop.

Assurance. Comfort.

He knew what emotions he needed to convey, but had no idea how to begin-

Trust your instincts, you bloody idiot, John’s voice scolded from the back of his mind.

Sherlock wrapped his arms over her shoulders from behind, resting his chin on the top of her head and following her gaze up.

“You obviously couldn’t move back in,” he said.

“And why not?”

“You’d freeze at night,” he smirked to himself.

“Not ready to retire and become a flower man? Shame,” she turned around in his arms and tapped the tip of his nose affectionately. “Could still have the same amount of blood and guts. Roses and the like love all that, remember?”

“Maybe Mrs. Hudson will let us turn the basement into a greenhouse,” he offered, following behind in a few steps when she started back down the road.

“And why not your room?” she challenged. “There’s better sunlight after all.”

“I like my room,” he protested.

“And I like my little apartment,” she countered. “Though I suppose John will have to move out eventually... I hope he finds someone soon. He’d make such a great husband and father.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes while he snorted.

“If you’re so confident, marry him yourself,” he replied.

“Maybe I will,” she laughed, speeding up when she saw 221B ahead.

Before he could catch up, she sprinted inside and raced to the sound of John’s voice greeting them from upstairs.

“John Watson, will you marry me?” she asked, trying to catch her breath while Sherlock strolled past her with brows raised.

“Excuse me?” the doctor lowered his newspaper in surprise. “I thought we’d decided on the table settings for the two of you?”

“Amelia believes you’d be a good husband and father, so I encouraged her to take advantage of the opportunity before it became too late,” Sherlock explained, dropping into his chair and watching the exchange in amusement.

“All right then,” John set the paper aside and stood up. “Let’s do it.”

Wait. Sherlock’s head snapped in Amelia’s direction.

“How many kids do you think? Two?”

“Two dozen, more like it,” John took her hand and examined it. “Your hands are tiny. I’ll have to get my mother’s ring refit.”

“You two aren’t serious?” Sherlock stammered out, but the pair ignored him in lieu of their supposed engaged bliss.

“We could always buy a matching set,” Amelia suggested, holding both his hands in hers excitedly.

No, no, that’s where Sherlock’s hands went-

“I think that’s quite enough,” the detective cleared his throat and the pair finally glanced over.

“Oh no, I think this is a spectacular idea,” Amelia grabbed John’s hand and placed it around her waist, leaning into him with a grin. “We’re already best friends, and I’m told that’s the secret to a healthy marriage.”

“Decent age difference, well educated in the sciences,” John added. “And we both have a good appreciation for the arts.”

“Nope,” Sherlock stood up and pulled them apart. “How about not? You two wouldn’t even be able to have sex, it’d be too weird.”

“For you maybe,” John shot back with a smirk.

“Oh dear,” Amelia’s hand found John’s again. “I do believe Mr. Holmes is jealous.”

“Why wouldn’t he be? Our stationary would say; Dr. and Dr. Watson.”

“I do like the sound of that,” she grinned.

“And we are done,” Sherlock pulled Amelia away and sat her down on the sofa with a huff. “I’m not jealous.”

“Someone’s grumpy,” Amelia teased, standing up and giving Sherlock’s hair a ruffle. “I’ve got to call my mom. I promised I'd tell her about the meeting. Let me know when you guys are ready for dinner.”

She proceeded down the stairs with a final chuckle, the door to her basement flat closing.

Sherlock immediately turned to John with a single quirked brow.

“Don’t do that again,” he stated firmly.

“Put my hand on her waist? You know, she put it there,” John answered, coolly moving toward his chair and ignoring his friend’s glare.

“I know what you’re doing and it isn’t going to work,” Sherlock shot back tersely. He returned to his chair and grabbed a book off the table. Flipping through it, he peered back over at John again. “I mean, Dr. and Dr. Watson? Ridiculous.”

“I also like children,” the doctor hummed, returning to his paper.

“She kissed me the other night,” Sherlock blurted out. “So, just saying.”

John rolled his eyes, flattening the paper to look up.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” he asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sherlock stuffed his face in his book, pretending to read until he felt John’s lingering gaze on him. “How am I an idiot?”

“You two-,” John shook his head with a low shucker. “I’ve never seen such infatuated but clueless people in my life. You care for her, don’t you? That’s the whole point of this nonsense with Moriarty.”

He did.

“And?” Sherlock pried, hoping that maybe his friend could provide more insight into these unusual feelings he’d been working through.

“She clearly cares for you in a similar manner,” John continued slowly.

“She was ready to marry you just moments ago,” Sherlock furrowed his brows.

“You’re really thick at this, aren’t you?” John pinched the bridge of his nose. “We were teasing you. I have no desire to marry Amelia, she’s like my sister. I have about as much desire to marry her as I would marry you.”

“That...” he groaned and threw his head back on the chair. “Why is this so complex?”

“You could just tell her you love her,” John suggested with a shrug.

He- what- the- no- not- he- didn’t- but-

“Ugh,” Sherlock huffed, crossing his arms stubbornly. “These attachments are making me weak.”

“Oh boohoo,” John scoffed. “You found someone compatible and willing to deal with your temper tantrums. How awful.”

“I’m serious, John,” Sherlock leaned forward, his expression falling earnest. “I don’t know what to do about Moriarty.”

John sensed the shift in emotion and studied his friend over briefly. Sherlock had found that John Watson was the type of person he could read in an instant- the doctor always wearing some kind of expression on his face that revealed his true thoughts.

Did he pity him? That’s what it looked like. John felt sorry for him. Pathetic. He thought Sherlock was a pathetic failure.

But- John wasn’t the type, he reminded himself at the doctor's expression.

This involved him too. Amelia was as much his friend as she was... whatever she was... to Sherlock.

“He turned himself in,” John recited. “And Mycroft wants him to be prosecuted.”

“That’s right,” Sherlock nodded.

“He’s going to do something,” John voiced, agreeing with Sherlock’s thoughts out loud. “Trigger the memories? Torment us a little longer? We have to remember that his target is ultimately you. What would hurt you the most? Losing the case? Losing Mia?”

All of it, a quiet voice whispered.

“And that’s what concerns me,” Sherlock confessed. “He’s playing too many variables this time. First, he tried to make me fail at solving cases by distracting me through Amelia’s disappearance. Then she returns, no recollection of events, and a week later he turns himself in.”

“What’s his end goal?” John considered quietly. “Why is he so fixated on you?”

“I’m not mad like him,” Sherlock realized, straightening up.

That was it. That was the difference between him and Moriarty. Sherlock had people who cared for him and he cared for in return. He had John and Amelia, Mrs. Hudson and Molly and Lestrade.

“He wants you to feel weak because you... care?” John asked, trying to follow along as Sherlock explained.

“He thinks I’m sentimental, and in his mind, that’s a detriment,” he replied, pacing the room. “That’s why he picked the clues he picked- Persephone? Ophelia? The War of the Roses? He’s well aware that in my sentiment, I would know these things and relate them back to Amelia.”

“And that, he hoped, would have distracted you and proven his point,” John nodded. “But it didn’t work.”

“No, so he knew he needed to dig deeper,” Sherlock pointed to John. “I don’t think he intended to do anything to Amelia initially. He wanted to prove a point. Scare her a little, and show me that these relationships hurt my abilities.”

“So what does that mean now?” John asked, now at the literal edge of his seat, watching Sherlock walk back and forth.

“It means that he’s going to continue playing on that sentiment,” Sherlock deduced confidently. “Another poem or a flower? He wants to get into my head and is doing so through hers.”

“That’s reassuring,” Amelia commented, falling backward onto the sofa. “At least he’ll leave my head soon. It’s really strange not recalling nearly a month in time. Did I menstruate? Who dealt with that? Where did I shower? What if I’m missing a kidney or something?”

“You have both kidneys,” John assured her quickly. “But that is a good point to consider- what do we do when he pulls the curtain on her memories, so to speak?”

“I’m preparing for the worst and hoping for the best,” Amelia supplied, staring up at the ceiling. “At least, that’s why my therapist is telling me to do.”

“We won’t know until it happens,” Sherlock agreed tersely. He hated the unknown, the unsolvable. He especially hated that James Moriarty knew something he didn’t.

“Then we watch out for signs and go from there?” John looked between the pair. “Proceed with caution?”

“For now,” Sherlock replied. “For now.”

~~~

The morning of the Magistrate hearing, Sherlock hovered over her. He hovered while she ate breakfast, hovered while she got dressed (though he did turn around after she threw a shoe toward his general direction), and hovered on their way to the taxi outside.

“Sherlock, you’ll be the first to know if something weird happens,” she promised him, patting his hand in reassurance. “I really don’t think anyone would be so bold as to do something right on the courthouse steps.”

“Just keep staying alert,” he mumbled, eyes scanning the roads, the front of the taxi, the driver.

The ride to the courthouse was blessedly short, Amelia growing tired of Sherlock’s overzealous actions. He held a hand up and made sure no one outside the courthouse was too close. Amelia snorted and pulled out her wallet.

Once Sherlock was out of the taxi, Amelia paid the driver. He paused, counting the bills before reaching into his sun visor. Pulling an envelope free, he passed it to Amelia.

Before she could ask questions, Mycroft approached and reminded the pair that they were needed inside. Amelia tucked the envelope away into her jacket, sliding out of the cab and following behind the Holmes brothers with more questions than answers at this point.

They moved through security, and before stepping into the chambers, Amelia excused herself to go to the restroom, with Mycroft calling after her to hurry.

Slipping into one of the stalls, Amelia took the moment of privacy to take a breath and pull the envelope free.

Hopefully, it wasn’t anthrax, she thought dryly, feeling the paper from the outside.

There was something inside, a piece of a fern or pine. Ripping the top, she emptied its contents on her lap, lifting the small sprig up to better examine it.

Rosemary, she recognized immediately, fingers running over the delicate periwinkle blooms.

It had to be a little gift from Moriarty. It was too bizarre to treat as some random act.

Why this though?

She checked the inside of the envelope for anything else, and finding nothing, she tucked it back into the paper and folded it into her coat. Weird.

Sherlock was outside the bathrooms, waiting with his eyes mid-roll while Mycroft lectured in the background.

“Thank goodness,” he grumbled when Amelia returned. “I couldn’t take another second with him.”

She fell in step with him, thinking to herself how to address the bizarre interaction. Pulling the envelope free, she held it up to him.

“The taxi driver gave this to me when I paid,” she explained when they stopped in front of the courtroom, Mycroft stepping inside with instructions to wait until they were summoned.

Sherlock plucked the rosemary free, brows furrowed while he studied it.

“Rosemary,” she supplied with a small shrug of her shoulders. “Nothing else though. No note.”

“Rosemary,” he repeated to himself. “And the taxi driver gave it to you?”

He looked at her reaction and she nodded slowly.

They were both thinking the same thing.

“Yeah,” she made a face. “Generally means love, lust, and mourning… though it’s been a minute since I last worked with it. I’m not sure what it would… why he would send it, you know?”

Sherlock hummed in agreement, pulling out his phone and sending John a picture with a request to double-check any other meaning behind the plant.

Amelia sighed.

There was something irritatingly familiar about the plant that made her run through every bit of flowers knowledge she possessed. It grew in coastal climates. Used in cooking, has a salty texture…

“Amelia, the Magistrate will be hearing from you now,” Mycroft peeked his head into the hall, guiding Amelia into the chambers to give her statement.

Once the doors closed, Sherlock’s phone buzzed with a new message from John.

He didn’t even have to look, the flower staring up at him from his palm. He knew exactly what this meant and exactly why the taxi driver gave it to her.

There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance; pray, love, remember.

Oh no, no, no… Stuffing his phone into his pocket, Sherlock slipped into the courtroom, earning a pointed glare from his brother when he sat down next to him. Amelia was settling into the witness’ chair, nervously toying with the edge of her shirt sleeves.

“We have a problem,” Sherlock murmured to his older brother passing him the sprig of rosemary. “Amelia received this in the taxi.”

Mycroft’s face went ghost white.

“We can’t interrupt,” Mycroft grunted in frustration, watching Amelia intensely.

“Dr. Brenner, do you recognize this man?” the representative of the court asked her, holding up a photograph of Jim Moriarty.

“I do,” Amelia answered confidently, blinking a few times and frowning to herself when the representative turned to grab another piece of evidence.

“Can you please tell us how you are familiar with him?”

“I…” Amelia’s voice caught. “I’m sorry, can you repeat the question?”

“How are you familiar with this man?”

“Who are we talking about?” came Amelia’s blank-faced reply, confusion evident on her face.

Oh nononono. Sherlock could hear his heartbeat in his ears. Months of work. Months of effort were about to go down the drain.

“If I may?” Mycroft stepped toward the representative, murmuring something into his ear. The panel of judges looked absolutely scandalized at the interruption.

“Excuse me,” the female barrister approached the bench, speaking in a low voice to the trio.

“We will grant this request,” the center judge, a man, replied firmly. “Return in one hour.”

Mycroft practically dragged Amelia out of the room, much to Sherlock’s chagrin. Once they were in the hall, the barrister looked to Mycroft furiously.

“Mind explaining what the hell just happened in there?” she barked.

“Just, bear with me,” Mycroft released Amelia’s arm after Sherlock smacked his hand.

Cautiously, Sherlock touched her shoulder.

“Amelia?” he asked, and her head snapped toward him. Her face was sheet white, pupils dilated, breathing rapidly.

“Sherlock,” she breathed. “Oh my god.”

Sherlock saw that Mycroft was busy trying to calm the barrister and took it upon himself to guide Amelia to a more secluded area. He sat her on a bench, taking one of her hands protectively.

“What happened?” he pressed, keeping his voice low, controlled. He didn’t want to frighten her more than she obviously was.

“I remember everything,” she whispered, tears threatening to fall over her bottom lashes. “Oh my god, Sherlock… it’s…”

She pulled her hand out of his and buried her face into her palms, hunching forward.

“I can’t do this,” she choked out, green eyes looking at him wildly.

“You have to,” he insisted. “Whatever it is, we will work through it, but you can’t let him walk away.”

“You don’t understand,” she swallowed, her whole body shaking. “I can’t. I… it’s… just…”

“You’re the key to this whole case, Amelia,” he reminded her tersely. “I’m seldom one to beg, but you have to push through. It’s for one day.”

“And if it goes to trial?” she snapped sharply, her voice rising. “And the press? And his little goons waiting in the shadows to strike? Sherlock, no. I’m not…”

She stood up on wobbly legs, backing away from him.

“I’m going home,” she choked out.

“Amelia,” he called after her retreating figure, cursing under his breath as he passed Mycroft.

“What is going on?” Mycroft demanded. “We need to be back in an hour!”

“I’m working on it,” Sherlock huffed, sprinting after the terrified woman. He found her on the court steps, legs tucked to her chest, muttering to herself under her breath. “Mia.”

The nickname pulled her back and she stilled, silencing with a shake of her head.

“I’m not doing it,” she repeated fiercely. “Call anyone else. My mother. My cousin. I don’t care. I’m not doing it.”

“Don’t think about that right now,” Sherlock sat down next to her. “You need to talk to me. Tell me what happened.”

She kept her eyes glued to the steps in front of her.

Sherlock took the opportunity to hammer out a text to John. Whatever was happening, they needed to get out of the public eye for a moment, the court be damned.

“Sherlock,” she turned to him, eyes swollen, her whole being trembling. “It was… there aren’t words.”

He’d kill him. Sherlock decided. He’d rip his spine free from his body. Throw him off the courthouse roof. Spend the rest of his life ensuring no one ever touched a single hair on her again.

She pulled up her shirt sleeves, holding up the pair of healing scars toward him.

“20 days,” she stated bitterly. “If it were possible, I would have ripped my own hands off to escape. I can’t, Sherlock. Please. I just… I don’t even know what… Christ, he’s a monster.”

“We need to get ready,” Mycroft was jogging down the steps toward them. “The court wants to start up early.”

“It’s not happening,” Sherlock shot back. “She’s in no condition for this.”

“She just needs to recite her statement,” Mycroft pressed. “Once we get the approval to move forward-”

“Mycroft, no,” Sherlock stood up, face to face with his brother.

“We might not be able to bring this forward again,” Mycroft warned sharply. “If Dr. Brenner is so frightened, you both might do well to remember that without a pending trial, James Moriarty is to be released to the public.”

Amelia’s breath hitched at the thought. Looking at Sherlock in a panic, he took a breath.

“Just…” he considered their options, none of which were pleasant. “Get a postponement. New evidence came up and the government needs to verify its authenticity.”

Mycroft stared at him a moment, considering the suggestion.

Both men knew it was a weak excuse, but they didn’t have a lot of options at this point. If they threw the case out completely, Moriarty would be free to roam and terrorize again.

“Fine,” he seethed with a low sigh. “I will contact you with the details moving forward. Get this figured out.”

“Thank you,” Sherlock mumbled to the smug satisfaction of his brother.

“Just- get out of here before the barrister sees you,” he added, a little gentler.

Sherlock plucked Amelia up and hurried toward a line of waiting taxis.

John was going to meet them at the flat, preferably with a tranquilizer on standby.

“I’m sorry,” Amelia managed once they were a few blocks away from the court. She looked a little calmer, though it wasn’t much of a difference appearance wise. She just didn’t seem like she was about to pass out from sheer horror.

Sherlock didn’t register the small apology, his mind a million miles away, running through everything that had happened.

Moriarty had planned for this to happen. To shame her. Make her give up one of the potentially largest fraud cases in decades out of fear.

Sherlock’s hand found hers. She gave it a tight squeeze. At the very least she was here and not buried in a trench somewhere. The only benefit to this was that Moriarty was keen on giving him preferential treatment.

~~~

“I don’t even know where to begin,” Amelia mumbled, wrapped in Sherlock’s robe, a cup of chamomile in her hands. She was sitting in the chair. She’d never sat in the chair, even her first night at Baker Street after her shop burnt down.

But this was another monster. This was bigger than Chemco and shady family relations; this was James Moriarty. And everything she could try and recall could be essential in figuring out what his play was. Or so Sherlock had assured her.

“The beginning?” Sherlock suggested dryly, earning a smack in the arm from John. He rubbed the spot, glaring at him pointedly. “It’s the best way to parse everything out."

John just wanted to make sure she made it through all of this in one piece. With Moriarty on the mind, Sherlock tended to become hyper-focused, ignoring the comforts and general well-being of those around him.

It was all for a good cause, of course, but given the vulnerable state Amelia was already in- having been exploited by Moriarty that very day- he wanted to keep her safe.

“Are you okay if I record this?” John asked, holding up a small recording device. Amelia nodded and took a sip of the calming tea. “Just take your time.”

“A lot of it just phases together after a bit,” she explained after a pause of consideration, a chill going up to her spine at an unspoken memory.

John wasn’t sure if he was ready to stomach what she had to say. She looked so rattled, so scared. This woman who stared down the barrel of a gun and demanded that her uncle not be a coward and shoot her- looked absolutely terrorized.

What possible demons lurked in her mind?

She took a deep breath and looked up between the men. It was her show. She was in the chair and they were ready to take on Amelia Brenner’s second case.

Chapter 21 

[officialthiamlibrary]

Welcome to another profile on Behind the Screens, giving you personal insight on who your favorite creators are and what they do when they aren’t wowing you with their creative ability.

Hiya! I’m popping out of my writing cave to share with you the greatness of another artist, Glitter-cake20, also known as Sammy.  You’ve probably seen her awe-inspiring manips, gifs, incorrect quotes, and stories floating around your dashboard. In our talk, she shares her #1 guilty pleasure ship, creates her optimal Teen Wolf Puppy Pack spin-off, and lets us in her creative process.

Sammy! Why don’t we start off simple? Tell us about yourself. The catch: the word count is either to or less than the number of letters in your two favorite Teen Wolf episode names. (ex. Raving + Galvanize = 19)

Memory Found + Smoke and Mirrors = 25

I’m really lazy. I like reading. I’m great at killing zombies on Xbox. I have blood in my coffee stream. I have resting bitch face. 

Ooh, what makes these two your favorite?

Memory Found because i feel like that is really where Theo learned to be selfless. He fought with Liam knowing he could get killed or taken, and then later he literally sacrificed himself for a pack that wanted him dead.

Smoke and Mirrors - the entire Mexico trip was great but the part that really stood out in Smoke and Mirrors was when Berserker Scott had Liam pinned to the wall and Liam said “Scott listen! You’re not a monster, you’re a werewolf like me” which parallels to earlier in Season 4 when Scott had said that same thing to Liam. It was just beautiful because it showed how Liam had accepted himself as a werewolf.  Also, Derek evolving was just wow!

And how did you come to the Thiam fandom? What about them drew you in?

You know, I had just created a twitter account and I was just following few accounts for Teen Wolf, kind of just bopping along with all the other popular ships, and then someone made a post about “OMG what was THAT” and I opened the video and it was Theo and Liam making glorious eye contact, and I was never the same again.

What drew me in the most was that Theo was so vulnerable when Liam brought him back. He was once such a badass and now he was suddenly latched on to Liam - just made my heart melt. And Liam is my boy, but he made me so angry when he was mean to Theo! Like no boo, that’s not how Scott raised you!

Lately, there’s been exclamations from our pack about Thiam bleeding into their real lives (like, seeing their relationship in every movie/song or experiencing story plots in real life, etc.), have you felt this sensation recently? If so, in what ways?

Yes!  I was sitting at a coffee shop writing the other day, and this adorable couple walked in. My brain immediately went “That’s Theo and that’s Liam” And I’m like, what is actually wrong with me? And literally every epic movie quote is now about Thiam, I’ve actually done a bunch of edits about that, which I will share for the Thiam Movie Fest.

Omg! That totally happens to me all the time, everywhere!! Since you see Thiam in anything, would you say they’re your #1 guilty pleasure ship? If not, what are your guilty pleasure ships, couples where you don’t care who knew or who disagreed, you ship them regardless?

Oh gosh I’ve had many. Stalia was one.  I really liked the dynamic, in the same breath I was also pining for Stydia. I loved Jethan when that teaser came out.  Briam, although I don’t think anyone would disagree.  Brett and Mason!  And even when Scott and Allison broke up I was like, no but Scallison.  I literally ship anything. 

If you could build the ultimate paintball/laser tag team from any five characters on Teen Wolf, who’d be on your team and why? Twist: now, choose one Teen Wolf villain who’d be your secret weapon, provided they don’t double-cross you first, mwhahaha. 

Mmm okay…(this actually makes me excited!) So for paintball, first of all I’d choose Corey for his ability to disappear and strike from a position unknown to our opponents. Then I would pick Theo, he’s proven to be quite strategic and cunning in mapping out a plan! Peter, because he just no objection to kicking ass, any time any place. Kira, because she can divert the paintballs with her sword (and yes in my mind they would allow her to take the sword onto the field, shh). Braeden, because she’s just a total badass and I just love her. And for my secret weapon I would choose Jackson so he can paralyze the opposing team with his Kanima venom!! Ha!

Jackson would be a total knockout secret weapon. The game would be over in seconds lol! Let’s jump into your works. Like @da-smiley99​, our artist last week, you also create a little bit of it all: drabbles, gifs, manips, and incorrect quotes. For you, which would you say is your favorite art form? How do you balance creating them all? 

I really love doing the incorrect quotes, they are fun and I enjoy looking for gifs to match!

Whatever inspiration hits first is what I will do, most of the time its manips/aesthetics that I do for other writer’s work. I love appreciating and promoting what people have created because I know the effort that goes into it. There are still so many works I would like to do an edit for!

If your creative process for these pieces was a person, describe him or her to us. What do they do? Wear? Listen to? How do they handle conflict?

She’s running around in a pink fur coat, stilettos, champagne in hand, chocolates stuffed in her cheek yelling “OH MY GOD!” at everything. I imagine her in a clothing store, the clothes being ideas, and she’s just grabbing everything pilling it onto her arm in a heap, eventually losing her balance and falling over. So when the shop assistant (my family) is like “Mam, you need to calm the hell down” she just runs to the next store, her champagne spilling as she wobbles down the sidewalk in the way-too-high stilettos. She probably listens to Taylor Swift in her pink drop top.

And what’s hers (and your) writing Kryptonite? How do you two battle it?

With regards to writing -I come up with the most amazing and original idea for a story and I manage to write one mind blowing paragraph and then I’m stuck.  That’s why I take so long to create a story, it just takes me forever to get inspired again.  I have a few WIP’s and I don’t know what to do with them!

Creating comes pretty easy and I haven’t had many hiccups while editing. I just suck at making video edits and I honestly wish I was better at it because I have so many ideas! I usually fight writer's block with generous amounts of wine.

If you did become that video-making mastermind, which one of those ideas would you explore first?

I always wanted to do an AU vid of Thiam just living life you know. Id also like to do a “trailer” for these amazing fics that’s been written, kind of like what was done for Airplanes!

I sense a perfect opportunity to practice your videographer skills, mentally, of course! Say you were the Jeff Davis of the Puppy Pack Teen Wolf Spin-Off. Describe your very first and last scene of the pilot episode? How would you put your personal touches on those two scenes? 

Personal Touches: A-class lighting because we suffered enough with the ever loving darkness of Teen Wolf.  I’d like to see the characters develop more of a personal style, Liam would probably wear more ‘jock’ outfits as he plays varsity lacrosse now. I’d love to put Theo in shorts for a change, maybe an early morning kitchen scene where he is wearing boxer shorts…okay I’m getting distracted.

Eeek!  Okay so, the Opening scene would be Theo, Liam and Alec running from hunters, Theo has Liam by the arm, he pushes Liam and Alec into his truck and ducks in behind them. They speed off. Then he starts yelling at Liam “Are you crazy, Li?! I’m getting real tired of saving you!” (que fandom freaking because he is calling him “Li” now) and then at Alec “And you! What the hell did we tell you about sneaking out with Liam!?” Liam and Alec are just out of breath trying not to  laugh at Theo. Theo calls Mason to confirm that they are fine.

Closing scene: Liam flops down on the couch in the McCall house, next to Theo (because that’s where he is staying now) “So, uh, thanks for coming to get us today”. “You’re an idiot” but Theo smiles. “How did you find me anyway?” Liam is twiddling his thumbs, “Tracked your scent” Theo gets up abruptly and leaves. Yup it’s going to be a slow burn!

Oooh, and which TW characters would you bring back as cameos or minor characters?

Frikken Danny! I feel like the guy deserved better. So definitely Danny.  I’d make him the supernatural privy teacher at the high school. Brett would also come back -as a ghost haunting Liam, especially when Li gets angry then Brett would just be in the corner jabbing insults at him and the pack would look at him like he’s crazy when he yells at the wall to shut up. Scott would make regular appearances. Deaton, Argent and Melissa would be regulars, and I think a guest appearance by Jackson because for some reason they are going to need a vile of his Kanima venom. Kira’s going to come looking for her sword at one point. And Isaac shows up with Scott a few times.

I agree with you about Danny; we needed more of him! We should petition to get you in the writer’s room because I need your ideas to happen!! 

How about gifs/manips specifically? Where does your inspiration for those stem from?

I would think of a scene that I really would have loved to happen and then I try to match it as best I can using existing material. Sometimes i would just be scrolling through gifs and I’d be like “oh wait! This with this is perfect!”

Ooh, up for a quick demonstration? Let’s pick one of your favorite fanfiction scenes lately. Which images/thought processes would stick out to you? Any specific gifs come to mind?

So let’s take Airplanes 28 for example. The scene where Liam is weighing up all his options about how to deal with his feelings and Theo asks what his problem is.  I would use the scene from S6 in the locker room where Liam is punching the locker, it had a few different shots of Liam being frustrated. For Theo’s part I’d use the scene form 6x16 where he actually says ‘what is wrong with you”. Then I just use the app to edit and merge them and voila.

That’s pretty neat. I didn’t even know you could use apps to mash gifs together! If someone wanted to get started with creating manips/gifs, what advice/steps would you give them?

If you’re doing it from your phone, like me, you have to firstly find the right gif app preferably one that does video to gif and vice versa. There are a few that work really well, so hit me up if you want more detail!  I’m also still learning so if anyone has any suggestions let me know.

We’ve chatted about your art for Thiam. Do you also create outside of the Thiam fandom? Original Fiction/Artwork? Other Fandoms?

I used to write and draw when I was younger, the Thiam fandom actually got me back into all of that! I don’t have any of my earlier writing works anymore but I still have drawings.

Aww, can you remember what you liked to write back then?

It was all fictional stories, mostly horrors! I loved writing scary stories, short or long and I would sometimes freak myself out a bit, especially late at night. I remember the one was about a guy whose car ‘broke down’ on a deserted road and he went looking for help at an old farmhouse and couldn't figure out why the people were so weird towards him, so after a few days he left, walking back down the road and he came across his car completely wrecked, his dead body hanging halfway out the door...he was a ghost haha.

Looking ahead, what’s one piece you’re working on that you’re dying for the pack to see?  

Yes! This is a snipped of the AU I’m doing for the Movie fest:

-“That’s him,” Corey said nodding in Theo’s direction “that’s the Judo champ”,

By the time Liam realised he had been staring it was too late, Theo’s head was tilted to the side, an amused grin spread across his face as he looked down slowly at this abdomen and then back up at Liam. There was no reason for Liam to deny that Theo Raeken was gorgeous, that he looked like a demigod in the golden light of the street lamps, but this was not the time for these kinds of thoughts. ‘Get it together Liam’, he shook his head as if to rid his mind of Judo Boy.-

I will also attempt some manips for this piece!

Ooh, intriguing. How dare you stop there! I guess we’ll just have to wait until next week, smh. One final anecdote before we wrap up?

Characters often find themselves in situations they aren’t sure they can get themselves out of. When was the last time you found yourself in situation like that and what did you do?

The PA of our department at work tried to sell me sex toys from this ridiculously expensive catalogue and tried to make me have a sex toy party for my birthday because she would get a free gift and commission for it. First I said, but my friends and family ain’t about that life, and she’s like “No I’ll just invite all my friends it's fine” (to my birthday?? Okay bih). So then I said I’ll think about it hoping she’d forget. She didn’t.  Eventually I told her that I’m not doing anything for my birthday but thanks.

Oh no, she didn’t! It was your birthday smh. You’re stronger than me! Not only would she convince me to throw the party, I’d have bought at least  two things from that freaking catalogue haha! Well, we’re coming to an end, but first, what’s next for you? Both in life and in the creation world? 

Career wise I’d like to do a few courses, and really start going into the direction of what I really love, which is anything creative, instead of just doing a 9-5 to pay bills, you know?  So I’m going to look for a way to bring these two worlds together so that I can always do what I love. Fandom wise, I really want to do more writing, explore different characters and ships!

And, we’ll be over here, looking forward to more of your writing! Finally, Is there anything else you’d like to say? The floor is all yours. Dance away!

I hardly get to writing my own ideas so I’m reluctant to say that I'll take prompts for fics and frankly I take so long to write that it will be disappointing, however, if someone has a scenario/idea for an incorrect quote, manip or aesthetic requests, I’m all for it! I would love to do it! Other than that i just want to thank this entire fandom, you guys are keeping this ship sailing and its beautiful! Keep doing what you’re doing!

Aww, thank YOU for writing, creating, and giving us a lens into your world! I’ll be looking forward to the day you gift us with all the Thiam videos haha. From there, we give you Glitter-cake20. 

As always, you can keep the conversation going; respond to any of her thoughts, ask more questions, send a prompt, or simply swing by for a chat with Sammy anytime. To dive into her works, check out her Tumblr. You can also find her on instagram!

Tumblr: Glitter-cake20

Ask Box: glitter-cake20

Instagram: @spraybitch_chrisberry

That’s all for now, so stay warm, amused, and tuned for next week’s Movie AU edition with @underthegallowws.

Over and Out <3 

Get involved in the Behind the Screen series! Have a Thiam Creator you fan over, from any platform (AO3, Tumblr, Wattpad, Instagram, FFN, etc). Please send us their names. Bonus points if you include any questions you’re dying to ask them. Likewise, if you as the creator, would like to be a part of the Behind the Screens series, give us a shout too! We’d love to get to know you, as well.

[rimalupin]

Suitors’ Back to School “Horror Stories”

“WHAT TIME IS IT?!”

Back to school time… -.-‘

It’s August now, which means that summer is nearly over and school is just around the corner (For those of us who are still in school, that is.). In honor or maybe distress of the “Back to School Season,” here are some scenarios of the MidCin suitors’ disastrous first days! I just wrote these situations for laughs: I genuinely hope that everyone doesn’t just have a good/decent/disaster-proof first day of school, but that you all have a great school year! <3

Now, let’s go to school with the suitors! 😊

*Warnings/Notes: modern day high school/college/uni AU; overly ridiculous and EXTRA situations; some cursing; high-key Lid shipping

Alyn:

He was running late, so he grabbed the nearest shirt he could find and headed out the door as soon as he got changed.

Unfortunately, the shirt Alyn chose got shrunk in the wash, so now he has to walk around school in a VERY tight shirt.

Halfway through the day, he gets so uncomfortable that he takes his shirt off for the rest of the day. Taking pity on his brother, Leo offers Alyn his favorite sweater a.k.a. the one with the broken zipper.

Alyn is humiliated that he has to walk through the halls and endure his classes basically half-naked for the rest of the day (however, the other students and staff members don’t seem to mind at all, huehuehue~.).

Leo:

He never should have trained Sebastian to be his alarm clock: the darn parrot kept on squawking “TIME FOR SCHOOL, DAMMIT, TIME FOR SCHOOL” throughout the entire morning EVEN AFTER LEO WOKE UP.

Eager to leave the house in order to get away from that loud parrot, Leo dashed out the door with his school books and bags – breakfast could wait ‘till later.

After that whirlwind of a morning, he finally gets to school. He meets up with some friends, makes an extra copy of his schedule at the library (even though he’s already memorized his classes by heart), grabs a quick bite to eat at the cafeteria, and then heads to his first class.

Everything was going smoothly until everyone heard a THUD at the window. Being the closest to that window, Leo nearly fell off his seat from the initial shock. Once he calmed down a bit, he opened the window and peeked outside: a red feather sat on the edge of the windowsill.

Suddenly, Sebastian flies through the window and into the classroom, knocking over school supplies and screaming “TIME FOR SCHOOL, DAMMIT, TIME FOR SCHOOL.”

Before the bird could cause any more chaos, Leo grabs Sebastian and heads out of the classroom. Once he’s outside of the school building, he tells the bird, “GO HOME.” Thankfully, Sebastian listens, and he flies away while squawking “TIME FOR SCHOOL, DAMMIT.”

Giles:

He had everything prepared for the day except for his schedule. He searched his entire house for it with no luck.

Suddenly, he hears the sound of paper getting shred coming from his bedroom. As he walks into the room, he sees his cat, Michel-freaking-angelo, destroying the schedule.

Ohhhh, that demonic cat is DEFINITELY not getting any treats tonight.

Since Giles’s printer ran out of ink, he decides to print his schedule at school.

Once he arrives at the campus and drops off Sid near the entrance (*See under “Sid” for that story.), he runs to the library, prints his schedule, and sprints out the door with the piece of paper in his hands.

It seemed like a good enough day for Giles, considering that Leo was his classmate for all his classes.

It wasn’t until the end of the day that Giles realizes that he grabbed a copy of Leo’s schedule, which Leo had failed to pick up before his first class. Whoops.

So much for “perfect attendance”… xD

Louis:

He snoozed his alarm clock for a few minutes b/c he needed a little… more… sleep…

And then he realizes that his first class starts in half an hour. AND IT TAKES HIM APPROXIMATELY AN HOUR TO DO HIS HAIR.

He resolves to just deal with his bed head later and super-condenses his daily routine (minus the hair care) from and hour and thirty minutes to about ten minutes. Once he’s ready, he grabs his school bag, shoves a piece of toast into his mouth, and heads out the door.

He’s almost at the school building with ten minutes to spare before his first class. He turns a corner when suddenly WHAM: he and another student collide against one another, Louis falling on top of the latter YES, I JUST USED LOUIS HOWARD IN AN ANIME TROPE. DON’T JUDGE ME. xD.

Louis is about to apologize to the person when he realizes whose arms he just fell into…

“SID, WHAT THE FU-?!?!”

“JESUS CHRIST, HOWARD. Look, man: I like you, but even this is a little too much for me.”

Thanks to his little encounter with Sid (*And a little something else~. See under “Sid” for that story.), pictures were taken and people gossiped about their “romance,” causing Louis to cringe and Sid to merely smirk and tease the former whenever the rumor was mentioned.

Sid:

He had driven a few blocks away from his house when his motorbike decided to act up and lose gas. Even worse: the bike stopped in front of his ex’s house – a.k.a. the a**hat that nobody likes - and Sid and his ex were NOT on good terms.

Instead of leaving his bike to the mercy of his merciless ex, Sid walked it to Giles’s house, which was further away from the school. Luckily, Giles was nice enough to offer Sid a ride to school.

Once they got to campus, Giles dropped off Sid near the entrance while the former looked for a parking spot. Sid turned a corner when WHAM: Louis was suddenly on top of him (*See under “Louis” for that story.).

Later that day, Sid’s ex confronts him in the cafeteria during lunchtime, screaming about how he “left me for Louis,” causing everyone to stop and stare at them. Sid was frozen at first, embarrassed by the sudden public humiliation even though what his ex said wasn’t entirely true.

Not wanting his ex to have the last laugh, Sid says, “At least I left for someone better.” Then, he grabs an unsuspecting Louis by the waist and pulls him in close, their faces inches away from each other. He whispers something into Louis’s ear, and the former nods.

Suddenly, the two of them are kissing in front of everyone, which earns them some “Ooohs” & “Aaahs,” and a ton of pictures. Once their mini make-out session is over, the enraged ex storms away as the crowd applauds Sid and Louis.

As the couple walks away, Sid whispers to Louis: “Thanks for playing along, Howard.” Louis angrily whispers back, “You owe me big-time, a**hole.”

“Aww, we’re already giving each other nicknames~.” “Shut the f*ck up and go to class already.”

Albert:

He was carrying most of his textbooks in his arms since he didn’t have enough room in his backpack. He had a few minutes to spare before his first class, so he hurried to his locker to drop off his books.

He’s almost reached his locker when BAM: he’s smacked in the face with another person’s locker. This causes him to almost drop his books.

“Owww. Watch it, will you-?”

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry!”

Albert stops, his mouth agape: he just got smacked by his crush!

OH SHIT ALBERT YOU NEED TO BREATHE HOWFASTCANAHEARTBEATLIKEHONESTLYCaLLtHEpArAmEdIcS.

He literally doesn’t know how to react as his crush is worrying over him. Albert finally snaps out of his trance as his crush remarks, “Oh shoot, I think I just broke your glasses.”

The glasses’ bridge was broken, leaving half of Albert’s frames dangling towards the floor. Luckily, his crush offered him a piece of tape to keep the glasses together.

Although Albert is happy that he (quite literally) bumped into his crush (or, in this case, their locker), he now has to wear his glasses as if he’s Harry Potter from the first movie (Pre-“Oculus Reparo!” a.k.a. Before Hermione fixes Harry’s glasses.).

Nico:

This morning was hell for poor Nico: he overslept, nearly put shampoo on his toothbrush, put his shirt on backwards, and almost forgot his backpack. 

Despite that, he somehow managed to catch the bus and get to all his classes on time. However, his bad luck didn’t end just then.

In the middle of the day, he was almost late for one of his classes, so he grabbed his stuff and made a beeline for the other classroom. He got to class on time; however, when he opened his bag, he didn’t find his school supplies.

Turns out that Nico and Albert both have similar looking backpacks.

Nico also happens to find Albert’s personal journal ohoho~.

Nico returns home while reading Al’s journal lolol at the end of the day only to be greeted by Albert’s harsh voice:

“Why, you brat! I can’t believe we bought the same backpack!”

And now an angry Albert is chasing Nico around the house because he doesn’t want Nico reading what he wrote about his crush. Oh boy...

Robert:

He was helping his art teacher set up the room for the next class since Robert got to the room early. 

As Robert finished distributing the art supplies to everyone’s stations, people began to file into the classroom. Once class began, Robert took a seat along with everyone else.

Suddenly, one of his classmates gasped. “Robert, are you bleeding?!” Surprised, Robert looked down at his white shirt: there were streaks of red forming on the left side of his chest.

The room immediately erupted into panicked chaos: people were running around the classroom looking for towels and first aid kits; some students stepped into the hallway to get better phone reception for calling 9-1-1 and the school’s nurses; and a select few actually fainted at the sight of the “blood.”

Telling everyone to calm down, Robert reached into his left shirt pocket. Turns out that his pet hedgehog Amber somehow got some red paint stuck on her body and had managed to stealthily climb up Robert’s shirt and into his pocket.

Although Robert was thankful that everyone was looking out for him, he was honestly so embarrassed that he made all his classmates worry for no reason.

Byron:

The clothes he had planned to wear for the day somehow got lost in either Nico or Albert’s closet, and the boys forgot to organize their clothes over the weekend, so Byron had to compromise.

The only things left for him to wear were a formal suit and tie and a snowy owl onesie.

He had to save his suit for an event at the end of the week, so he went with the owl onesie.

He honestly didn’t mind wearing it until he realized that everyone was staring at him. People even asked to take pictures with him.

Despite Byron’s calm composure, his cheeks were red for the entire day due to the embarrassing unwanted attention he was getting.

The truth is that everyone was staring at Byron because he somehow managed to make a silly and fluffy onesie look rather stylish. A bunch of students even wore onesies at the end of the school week to commemorate Byron’s first day of school outfit (What a trendsetter~.).

Rayvis:

Being the new kid on the block, he decided to explore the neighborhood with Luke before his classes started. Once Rayvis got back home, he changed his clothes, grabbed some food, and gathered his school supplies before walking to school.

Upon entering the campus, everyone stopped and stared at Rayvis. He frowned at them all. Is this how they greet newbies here? he thought to himself.

He suddenly noticed an underclassman getting cornered by a gang of upperclassman jocks. Rayvis was about to approach the group when he heard something growling beside him: it turns out that he accidentally brought Luke along with him for the walk to school.

With a mighty howl, Luke dashed towards the group and jumped in front of the bullies, blocking them from the innocent underclassman.

Rayvis arrived at the scene just in time to hear one of the bullies say, “Just get rid of the stupid dog.” Rayvis narrowed his eyes at the bully and coolly replied: “He’s actually a wolf. Now, I suggest that you all leave before he does more than just growl at you.” With that, the bullies ran away.

He extended a hand to the underclassman. “You’re safe now. Let me help you up.” Instead of accepting Rayvis’s hand, the underclassman began coughing and sneezing rather violently. Pointing at Luke, they managed to say a few words: “Dog… Allergies… Nurse…”

Leaving Luke to wait for him outside, Rayvis rushed the underclassman to one of the campus’s infirmaries. He stayed with the student, feeling that he owed them an apology for almost killing them with an allergy trigger. 

In the end, the student told Rayvis not to worry about their allergies and thanked him and Luke for saving them!