and I'll stare out the window

the words we press into our skin, part 1


“Stay.”

Sherlock’s voice is faint, hesitant, the single word more question than command.


John had only come in to make sure Sherlock was okay. After a case he’s normally all restless limbs and manic energy, the adrenaline rolling through him in crashing waves, but something about this one had seemed to unsettle him, to pull him into himself, to turn him introspective and taciturn. He had been worryingly still in the cab, staring out the window in silence, lost in thought, and after absently removing his coat and scarf and gloves when they got home, he’d gone straight to his room without a word. John had left him to it for a while, but curiosity and concern had gotten the better of him, and he had shuffled into Sherlock’s room to find him sitting on the edge of his bed staring at the floor in the growing darkness.

“Sherlock, you okay?”

The only response was a nod so slight it might have been a tremble.

“You sure?”

Another nod, barely stronger than the first.

Not knowing what else to do, John had turned to leave, making it as far as the doorway before Sherlock had spoken. Stay?


He turns back to find Sherlock now turned toward him, the same question writ large across his face, twisting in the hopeful arch of his brow, pulling at the corner of his lips. But his eyes, his eyes are unguarded in a way John has never seen, and when he looks into them, he knows. He knows what Sherlock’s thinking, what he’s saying, what he’s asking. This isn’t stay with me for a moment. This is stay with me tonight, stay with me tomorrow, stay all week, all month, all year. Stay for a lifetime. Stay always. Stay.

And there’s only one answer John could possibly give.

His feet carry him back to Sherlock’s side, closing the distance between them as if crossing an ocean. As if choosing his fate. As if coming home. His hands find Sherlock’s face, the first hint of stubble rasping against the smooth skin of John’s palms as they cradle those familiar, delicate angles, while Sherlock’s hands settle light but steady into the gentle dip of John’s waist. His chin tips down, as Sherlock’s tips up, their breath warm, lips trembling, as they meet in the middle. Their mouths slot together the same way their lives have, fitting around one another as if they were moulded that way. Sherlock’s lips are plush and full, as soft as John had imagined, and when he traces them with the tip of his tongue, Sherlock’s tiny gasp sends a shiver down John’s spine. A clever tongue slips out to meet his, and they learn each other in teases, in flicks, in tiny little sipping breaths. Sherlock tastes of silver smoke and strong coffee, of moonlight and music and memory. Little licks turn to long curls of their tongues, timidity giving way to temptation as they lose themselves in the kiss, John’s fingers sliding back to trail along Sherlock’s scalp and twist into silky curls, not pulling, just anchoring himself, the hairs held taut between his fingers reminding him that this is real.

John breaks away with a series of smaller, lingering kisses whispered against Sherlock’s lips, and the corners of his mouth quirk into a smile as he takes in the rapid rise and fall of Sherlock’s chest, the fingers that come up to trace his lips as if comparing the sensations, the flutter of his lashes as his eyes flit back and forth beneath their lids replaying the moment, analysing it, committing it to memory. He watches and waits, and Sherlock finally opens his eyes, bright in the deepening twilight, shining with joy and relief and a hundred nameless emotions that all together add up to love. “John,” he breathes, full of wonder, and John kisses him again.


[on ao3]           next >

You know I would treat you better” he says
“I know” I state as I stare out the window watching the trees blur past
“Then why won’t you let him go?”
I close my eyes for a minute and listen to the soft sound of the radio
“Because he still has a piece of me. I love him with my every being and I can’t let that go. He has the part of me I love the most. When I’m with him I’ve never been so happy. It’s like the world makes sense when I’m with him. Does that sound crazy?”
“No, that’s the way I feel about you
He didn’t love me, he loved the feel of his body within mine.
He didn’t stare at my face while my gaze drifted out of the window, wondering what thoughts raced through my messy, complicated mind. 
My phone calls to him where just that of static noise, not breathless whispers and midnight promises.
He didn’t know if I believed in God, why I was such a hopeless romantic, what my favorite book was, or even my type of humor.
In fact, he never asked.
And all it took was that Monday night in my mother’s bathroom- my legs pressed to my chest, pale arms wrapped around each knee as though I were drowning and they were a buoy in the Pacific Ocean. Mascara streaking down my flushed cheekbones, gasps of humiliated air escaping my swollen, cracked lips.
He didn’t love me. He doesn’t love me.
And you know, that’s okay.
Slowly, I stood, pushing myself up from the ice cold tile and catching my balance in a not-so-graceful way. My caramel eyes locked on themselves in the mirror that hung above my parents sink as I mustered the strength to walk towards it.
Bony fingers wrapped around the porcelain basin and I dipped my head, shoulder blades extending back into each other as I drew in one refreshing breath before lifting my head and staring directly back at myself, unlike ever before.
That boy didn’t love me, but God damn it, I was about to fall in love with myself.
I’d wonder about God, and divulge in romantic literature.
I’d read and I’d read and I’d fucking read.
Because, I’m worth it. Even if someone else is too stupid to realize it.
—  hellokase
As a child, Remus must’ve picked up an activity that could’ve been done inside since he was limited to the confines of his house...
  • Remus starts learning to play the piano after the attack. 
  • The full moons take all of the energy out of him, leaving him stuck inside while all of the other little boys are exploring and playing with each other. 
  • One day, Hope sees Remus staring blankly out the window with a small frown on his face. 
  • That night, Hope talks to Lyall. The very next day, Hope calls Remus into the living room where he sees a well-worn piano sitting in what used to be an empty corner. 
  • It isn’t much, they say, but they hope that he likes it. 
  • Years go by, and Remus spends most of his time sitting side-by-side with his mother practicing the piano. 
  • Remus is suddenly 11 years old and leaving for Hogwarts, waving goodbye to his parents, and worrying if he’ll be able to take care of himself without their help. 
  • It turns out that his worries about fitting in were quickly quashed, as he left the train to Hogwarts with three new friends who seemed genuinely interested in him. 
  • He makes it through his first full moon alone, and as soon as he’s able to leave the hospital wing, he goes back to his dorm to rest properly. 
  • By the end of the year, Remus has explored the castle enough so that he has found a tucked away classroom that houses various musical instruments. 
  • As soon as he sees the piano, he feels as if he’s found a piece of home in this strange new place. 
  • He spends a lot of time sneaking off to his new hideout, and the other boys don’t yet know to question where he is. 
  • A few years later, Peter, James, and Sirius know about Remus’ condition, and they begin to spend time with him before and after the full moon. 
  • With the new company after the full moon, Remus finds it harder to sneak away to the music room. 
  • Remus starts to come up with excuses whenever he’s able to, so that he can spend some solitary time playing the piano. 
  • One night, Sirius sees Remus sneaking out of his bed and he decides to follow him. 
  • After almost getting caught more than a few times, Sirius finds Remus seated in front of a piano. 
  • Remus, completely unaware that Sirius is leaning in the doorway of the room, runs his fingers over the keys, playing snippets of different tunes, letting his mind wander from song to song. 
  • Sirius quietly moves closer, not wanting to startle Remus. 
  • Remus, clearly sensing someone else in the room, looks back, finally noticing that Sirius has followed here. He turns around again, and Sirius isn’t sure what to do. 
  • “Well, are you going to sit down or what?”
  • He says it awkwardly and for a moment Sirius isn’t sure if Remus is just trying to make the situation less uncomfortable, but then he notices the blush moving up the back of Moony’s neck. 
  • Sirius carefully sits down on the bench, and once he’s settled, Remus looks up at him before moving a bit closer. 
  • In the years to come, the small but cozy music room sees many intimate moments that Remus and Sirius share. From awkward and uncoordinated first kisses to I love you’s. 
  • Although Remus like have his own special space, he’s much happier now that he’s able to share this secret with Sirius. 
Everyone has those rainy days, when the skies are gray, and the small patter of raindrops echo in your head. I had always loved those moments. I stared out the window at school every time there was a storm, and I daydreamed about the rest of my life. Those rainy days remind me of those sad moments I’ve had in my life. Yes, rainy days are sad, but they always end up with a rainbow in the end. Sad moments come and go, and perhaps that was all I needed to remember.
—  prompt project wk 5- rainy school days // titled “Rainbows and Gray Skies” submission #331

“Maybe I love too hard. Maybe I’m just too much.” She stared out the passenger window halfheartedly watching the raindrops race each other to the bottom.

“So what? So-fucking-what? You have the biggest heart I know, you love everyone and everything so much and you just give and give and give. That is so unique and special.” Her friend looked over to the back of her head, eyebrows knitted together in concern and outrage. “The world likes to take the things that make you special and poke them until they hurt you. It wants to make you cut off the parts of you that don’t fit the glass slipper, but you’re not an ugly stepsister, you’re a fucking queen. Fuck the glass slipper!” She hit the steering wheel for emphasis and the horn echoed through the rain-soaked library parking lot like an exclamation point.

“That sounds painful.” She offered tentatively, still looking out the window.

“Huh?”

“Fucking a glass slipper. Sounds pretty painful to me.” Tossing her head to glance back at her friend, they both locked eyes and fell into a fit of booming belly laughter.

“This is why I love you.” They said almost in unison and wiped the happy tears from their eyes.

“But honestly, I love you so much because I appreciate you. Any stupid boy that doesn’t love you every bit as much as I do, is wrong and totally doesn’t deserve you. That’s the standard you have to set, if they don’t love you like your very best friend, then they just don’t deserve you.” Her friend flicked her ringlet curls behind her shoulder in fake attitude and then a broad smile settled across her face. “You’re absolutely perfect as you are, boo.”

“Love you.”

“Love you mas.”

“Love you most.”

—  [s.bucks]
#78 // excerpt from a book I’ll never write
Virtual Woes (5)

AN: it’s 11:30 where I am! So I’m still on schedule! Anyway, from this point on is where I finally want to be in the story! Now all the cute stuff storms in! Free reign!
Pairings: SasuHina
Rating: T (swearing)

Installment: [1] [2],[3][4]

::

Virtual Woes 5

::

Sasuke ended up having to pick Hinata up, apparently she lost her bus card or the buses weren’t running or something. Anyway… He teased her a bit before asking for the address. Now… Hinata sitting in the living room, staring out the window waiting for him to pull up.

“I’ll be there in fifteen…that’s what the GPS says.” He told her as he turned on the car.

Anyway, she was sweating terribly bad. She put majority of her face in the couch cushion and watched through terrified eyes. She would be essentially meeting her hero. Her stomach was knotting at the thought. “I’m going to pass out,” she whispered. “I’m definitely going to pass out.”

Ten minutes passed.

Hinata ran to the bathroom and checked her reflection. “He is a very good friend. There’s no reason to be nervous–”

There was a honk. She damn near tripped over herself and went to the window. A silver car was sitting in her driveway and…and Sasuke got out in the snow and took out his phone.

Her’s rang.

“H-hello?”

“Yeah, I’m outside.”

“I see you.”

He turned to the window and waved awkwardly. “Come out, dork. Have you been cat-fishing me?”

She laughed and grabbed her scarf and went to the door. “I’m very n-nervous.”

“I’m standing outside your big ass house in the snow - alone and you’re the one nervous?”

“Okay,” she said and opened the door. She braced against the wind. Hinata adjusted her bag strap and walked up to him. He was getting taller. Why was he getting so tall? She was going to die. He was so…good-looking what the hell? What did she do? Shake his hand?! Yes. That seemed appropriate. Shake his hand.

His chest inhaled. “Hey-” Out of some creepy reflex, she hugged him. Sasuke looked down at the short girl embracing him. “You’re so short.”

She buried her head in his chest and gripped his jacket. Hinata couldn’t believe herself! What happened to the hand shake!? Why was she hugging him? Her heart stopped completely when his arms slowly wrapped around her.

“Are you too nervous to move?” He asked calmly but his own heart was punching her in the face. Hinata nodded weakly in his chest. “Take your time.” She nodded again and stood there for another minute.

Finally she stepped back and looked up at him with a beet red face. “I’m sorry.”

He pocketed his hands, looking away. “It’s - fine.”

Her head fell again. “I don’t know what that was.”

Sasuke shrugged. “Nothing to worry about. Let’s go.”

She smiled and nodded.

::

Traffic.

Hinata was already sweating from being in a car alone with a guy, even more because the feeling was…weird. She knew him…well! But…she didn’t know him physically.

Her balled fist laid in her lap. What did they talk about? Did she talk? Maybe she should–

“Are you hot?” Sasuke asked, his hand reaching for the vents.

“N-no,” said Hinata. “I’m just…”

He nodded. “I understand. Despite my appearance I am sweating through my jacket.”

Her lips curved into a smile. It was good to know she wasn’t the only one freaking out. He rubbed the side of his face, turned off his car and leaned back. They were going to stick here for a while.

“So…” Hinata looked over. “I - just don’t know what to say.”

He looked towards the heavy traffic and nodded again. “Well, I’m a normal person, you know?”

“Doubt it.”

“I put one leg in my pants like everyone else.”

“Nope. No, I don’t believe it.” Hinata shook her head.

Sasuke turned to her with a frown. “Sorry, I don’t have a photoset to show you.”

She stared at him. He stared at her. Hinata bubbled into giggles and Sasuke sighed. Good. Very good. Sasuke looked down at her feet and to her head. Hinata pouted already. “Don’t-”

“You are awfully short. I’ve seen short but…”

“You’re just tall.” She looked out the window. “Everyone is just tall. Natural selection.”

“You’re hurt.”

She nodded. That’s when she realized…the nerves had went away. It was…okay. The Hyuuga girl looked over at him. He was pretty lean but she knew that. His hair looked as tamed as ever. His eyes… Gosh. His eyes were literally the darkest color…but this was coming from someone whose eyes have been compared to several jewels and moons.

No, they were still there.

“I…” Sasuke looked back to see the cars moving. “Mm, finally.” He grumbled and started the car back up. She got good vibes about today.

Keep reading

I could play with every strand of your hair all day for a lifetime and I am utterly obsessed with your eyes, they are so dreamy and mesmerizing, the way they light up when you talk about something you love. The amount of emotion you can see in your eyes is extraordinary, they really are the window to the soul. I could stare into your beautiful eyes until the end of time, because why would I need to look anywhere else when I can see galaxies within them.
 I am in love with your adorable nose indefinitely. I will never get over the constant urge to kiss it, and I will always be amazed by how perfectly it fits on your face.
 Every second we are apart I long for the taste of your lips on mine. Or the ever so gentle touch of your mouth pressed against my knuckles, it never fails to melt my heart.
 After you shave, your cheek feels like silk against mine, but when you leave the hairs on your face every delicate strand is absolute perfection and the way it tickles my face when you kiss me is a sensation I wont soon forget.
 Your broad shoulders, your neck, your collar bones, and the entire structure of your upper body. You’re so strong. Your arms around me is my only sanctuary from the constant fear I live in as I exist in this world; you are my safe place and you are my happy thoughts.
 Your wrists and your hands. the way the veins in your hands and forearms pop out when you get hot, is one of the most attractive things that anyone may have the honour of witnessing. The way you express yourself with your hands without realising, like they have a mind of their own, It is a wonderful thing to see, I could watch you talk all day and admire your hand gestures.
 You’re adorable little belly button and the hairs that grow beneath it; leading down to a most magnificent organ, that I need not explain in detail as you know how much I admire its beauty…  and what its capable of.
 You’re legs and every hair on them, The way you sit. The way you stand. And everything in between. Your legs are magnificent.
 Your feet and your toes and the hairs on them are adorable in their own way. Although you’d never let me id love to paint your toe nails pink.
 I love your laugh when its natural and pure. The way it makes me happy, the amount of joy in your voice. I would give anything for you to always be happy. When I think about the times I’ve made you smile it always cheers me up. I cant help being in a good mood, knowing I have made you happy at least once.
 Your happiness is all i could ever ask for.
—  A few reasons to love you -2:27am March 15th 2016
Music is my escape. I sit down at the bench and let my fingers glide across the black and white keys, mixing colors here and there, creating beautiful grays. I roam through the school halls with my earphones in, pretending every person I pass is a dancer in my latest music video, becoming lost in a trance. I stare out the windows when the house is empty and belt my favorite songs, not caring that neighbors might hear, forgetting all of my worries. I stand in the shower and let the water run down and cleanse my body as singing cleanses my soul. I lie in bed at night humming the latest and greatest songs stuck in my head and smile. I smile because even when nothing seems to go my way, music always does.
—  8:38pm thoughts// music never fails to disappoint
6 Two Sentence Horror Stories:

I heard the tree scratching the window again.
This room doesn’t have any windows though.

Realizing you didn’t leave the shower on when it’s trickling is scary enough. Finding out the house doesn’t have a shower is even scarier.

The circus is really fun to visit. Except for the clown who hides behind the games and stares at people, he scares me.

Sweatshirts are pretty comfortable. Except when the strings are wrapped around your neck.

I could listen to my favorite song on repeat for a while. Unless it’s being played in your basement at 1:00am, and you live alone.

I can’t remember the last time I slept. Maybe it’s because my death was 10 years ago.