and i made it way harder than it should have been

Wish I could say someone’s/no one’s there.

Yeah so remember that post a while back I made about how much I loved FNAF the Musical? Turns out, I loved it so much that I made fanart for it! I chose the fourth night because that’s my favorite song (but in terms of story my fave would have to Night 5). And lemme tell ya, this picture was WAY harder than it should’ve been. HOLY S**T. These men, as charming and as amazing as they are, have IMPOSSIBLE hair to draw. Other than that, I ADORE how this came out. I did not expect this picture to come out this good. Anyways, hope you like!

Speedpaint:

Sherlock’s been talking too bloody much. The consulting detective hasn’t stopped mumbling and complaining the entire day.. So Molly finds it in herself to go ahead and shut him up and in her own special kind of way, without words..

Bet y’all can’t guess where she is..

talk

this wasn’t what I meant to write when I sat down, I was actually working on amelia and riggs, but somehow amelia worked this out on her own. not sure how this is, I figured this ended up being my way of working through what happened, so yep. just thought I should share this (as opposed to a million one shots that might never make it out here) because it made sense, while basically plotless, it wasn’t too bad. the amelia and riggs thing is still being written and it’s turning out to be pretty controversial, just fyi.

When she shut the door behind her - harder than she should have considering the late hour - Amelia sighed. She was drunk, like she had been after her shift yesterday and the night before, and it felt so damn good. Actually, it didn’t feel like anything at all, which definitely felt damn amazing. Work was a good enough distraction, but whenever she was done with blood and brains, and sutures and ER consults, everything came back up to the surface and the pain inside her was so intense that she felt suffocated by it. Everything in her life had gone straight to hell and it appeared she was on her way there as well. It was all so fast, it happened, and before she knew it, it was all gone. Meredith, the kids, her family, her home, Owen and their future were all gone and it hurt so bad Amelia could not let herself feel it. It wasn’t caving, it wasn’t giving in or giving up, it was just how things went. It was her life story. Poor, screwed up Amelia lets everyone down once more, but after the first time and the second time, who was even counting now. She certainly wasn’t.

What made her feel relatively more sane, was that her first thought after that first sip of vodka at the bar wasn’t the second sip or the second glass or the second bottle. It was her sobriety going down the drain, it was Derek and Owen and the whole lot of nothing she had left in her life. She thought of all the people she was letting down – besides herself – she thought of how hard she had fought for years for nothing. That second sip was on the way to have never existed when something else had come to mind. Or someone, rather. Amelia thought of her boy, the little baby she had held in her arms, only to have him wheeled away and taken apart. Her son was dead and suddenly that second glass was sitting right in front of her, daring her to go on, to take one more drink, to sink further down into the abyss.

Needless to say, she had. Repeatedly. She had slept at the hospital those past few nights. This on call room was generally empty and not as popular as the other ones. It was isolated and these corridors were mainly empty, all that was around were exam rooms and labs. No patients, no doctors. Her luck wasn’t all that casual, she’d had to think to find this perfect spot and both nights it had been as she expected. Empty and cold and lonely. Just what she wanted, only tonight her on call room came with another doctor. Not only Amelia was undulating between tipsy and drunk, while still pretending to be the poster girl for sobriety, she was also on a mission to avoid – amongst everyone – two surgeons in particular. Meredith, where the feeling was mutual and who had been avoiding her like the plague, and Owen, who was currently lying on the bed in front of her.

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