Megan Quiroz, Wendy Patitas. 
September 16, 1856 (I think)
Friends, something truly terrible has happened. I’ve lost access to my blog.
Not because my parents took away my computer (that didn’t stop me last time, as you should know) but because I think I’m stuck in the past. And obvs, there are no computers in the past.
I have absolutely no idea how I got here. There wasn’t a TARDIS or a fun little gadget to whisk me away. I legit just fell asleep watching a rerun of Sherlock s1 and BAM. I woke up in a lil room in freaking 1800s England. I could still be dreaming, tbh. But it feels real. The streets smell really really bad and I can see my reflection and read and write. Maybe I’m hallucinating…? I need to peruse the #vividdream tag but I CAN’T. sigh.
Despite all that, I think I’m adapting pretty well. Since the Doctor went to old England in the last season, I remember some of the lingo used. I’ve only gotten like five weird looks, so that’s super bomb. I just… I need to get back. Idk how time works, but if the days I spend here equal days in my time, I have MISSED THE NEW SUPERNATURAL EPISODE. >:((((( The last one ended on a cliffhanger! How am I supposed to go about my days knowing I’m missing prime blogging time? I’m so sorry, loyal friends. I’ve fallen off my track. This is truly the worst thing to ever happen to me. I miss my computer, and my snackies. All they have here is bland bread.
Brb, the family I convinced to let me stay with them is ringing a bell. I’m nervy, I think they think I’m a servant. I’ve never swept in my life, let alone clean some old-timey laundry. I’m gonna catch polio and die.
September 17, 1856
Hiiiii my mutuals in my brain. Cleaning was bad. I did cry a little, but the family was nice and gave me some not-stale bread afterward. My room is sad and small, but at least it’s not the streets!
I went exploring today!!!! London is so silly and crazy. I went a few years back with my (TW: Parental figure mention) family on vacation, and I had such a blast. Though, most of what I saw then doesn’t exist anymore. Or technically, it has yet to exist. Such a headache!!! Anyways, London is coolio. There are so many fun little shops I’m obsessed with. Moodboarders would die!!!! I went to this place that just sold spices. I’ve literally never heard of turmeric. It gave me an idea for a new fic though! Sam and Dean Victorian small shop owner AU. If my home family lets me have more parchment I’ll start writing it. Sadly no Wattpad access in the 1800s :((((
It’s really hard to be without my blog. This journal is fine, but I got so used to blogging every hour from my phone. Now I have to sit and write everything down!!!!! And everything abt my situation is so crazy, yet I can’t even tell my dash. I miss you guys. I need to GIF the latest episodes. I long for webweaving and analyzing. I get why so many people from this time were sent to asylums or just offed themselves. Life without the internet and television is so sad. I gotta get back.
September 19, 1856
TW: Death.
Something absolutely terrible has happened. When (if) I ever get back, Idk if I’m gonna be able to post this entry, but I have to at least write it down.
I killed a child.
NOT INTENTIONALLY. I know I watch a lot of shows with violence, but I could never hurt someone irl. I mean, yeah, I’ve sent death threats when haters talk bad abt the Boys, but you all know I would never ever do anything!!!!!! I really did not mean to.
It happened like this: all I’ve done for the past few days is write. The dumb family I’m staying with has me doing all of the housework, and it gives me lots of time to think of new AUs to write. Maybe I should get off the internet more if without it I have this much inspo… anyway! I wrote a whole one-shot of my Supernatural Boys in Victorian England, and now I’m working on a Sherlock slash fic. I don’t remember exactly when the author of the OG novels was alive, but I figured it was somewhat around this time. And if I’m stuck here, I might as well do something to make it all worth it: canonize Sherlock/Watson. If I can get the fic published, I could change the future. Gay rights could start with me!!!!
So, I wrote the fic. It’s not my best work but I had to make it a bit closer to how writing is now, so it fits in. Then I lied to the family about getting ingredients for some American meal and was off to the printing place.
When I got there, I gave my lil notebook to the guy behind the counter. Or should I say boy, because that kid was no more than 9 years old!!!!! Child labor laws, hello????? I didn’t want to give a child my smut, but there was no one else there. I had no choice!! He took it, and the coin I stole from someone on the street and went into the back. I perused the place for a lil and I was about to leave when bang—a crash from the back. I peered around but no one seemed to come out of any hidden doors, so I assumed my best Sherlock/Dean/Doctor impression and went behind the counter.
What befell my eyes was something I’ll never forget. The poor printer boy, lying motionless on the floor, the pages of my story strewn around him. It looked like he had hit his head on something because there was (TW) blood underneath him. And… I panicked. Idk what to do with a body!! So I scooped up my pages, shoved them in my bag, and got the hell out of there.
I’m not proud of my actions. I didn’t check if the boy was actually dead, but if no one has found him yet… well. I just… I can’t believe that my slash fic killed a young Victorian boy. AND I CAN’T EVEN BLOG ABOUT IT. I NEED ADVICE FROM MY DASH. THIS IS A LIVING NIGHTMARE AND I HAVE TO GO HOME. I’m gonna sleep really hard and maybe I’ll wake up in my beautiful bed with my beautiful phone and computer and TUMBLR. Pls wish me luck *praying hands emoji*