and yes he's wearing his socks with dress

Every Me And Every You - Thirty

Instead of going back to Spencer’s like you normally would, for once you went back to yours.

You didn’t have any clothes or toiletries at Reid’s, you hadn’t wanted to make things weird by leaving the odd thing at his so you always made sure you packed everything back up.

Spencer had been inside your apartment a few times before, but never inside your bedroom. You led him in there almost straight away, him looking around and taking in the room.

“So this is where you sleep… ” he commented.

You giggled, replying, “Generally.”

“And where other stuff happens?”


He sat down on your bed, kicking his shoes off.

“I’ll be right back okay. I’m just gonna go…. Erm, clean up again quickly. Do you want a drink or anything.”

“Just some water. Where have you put the things I bought you?”

“Top drawer, bedside cabinet.” You left the room as he moved to the drawer, you wondering what exactly he was planning.

Heading into your bathroom, you stripped your panties off and discarded them into the laundry hamper, filling the sink with warm soapy water. You couldn’t be bothered to shower again so you just ran a flannel between your legs, making sure to remove the last of the residue from earlier, feeling cleaner.

Leaving off your underwear, you pulled your dress back down and went back to your bedroom, grabbing two bottles of water as you went.

Spencer had lit the candles that you kept in the room and had turned off the over head light. The room was still light enough to be able to still clearly see, and you spotted him sitting on your bed, at the bottom end, leaning against the foot board. In front of him were two objects. 

Placing the water bottles on the bedside table, you turned.

“No,“ you told him, seeing the purple silicone object on your bedspread.

“Yes. I have strikes to cash in from before remember. I’m cashing them.”

He leant over slightly so that he could touch you, trailing his hand up your leg. “I have to say Snow, I like these sock like stocking things you’re wearing. You can leave them on. But the dress needs to come off.”

“The dress can come off. But I’m not doing it. If you want me to use it so badly, then you use it on me.”

He pulled at the hem of your dress, signalling for you to remove it. You did, remaining in just your bra, choker and socks.

“I will be, in a way. I’ll be telling you what to do. Now climb onto the bed and lie down.”

You hesitated.

“Y/N, call it if you really don’t want to. I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to, I’d hope that you know that by now.”

You did, he was right. If you truly didn’t want to do this, you could tell him. It wasn’t like you didn’t get yourself off regularly anyway, you just always stuck to the outside. You guessed you could at least give it a try.

You crawled on the bed, discarding your bra as you went and lay down.

“Good girl.”

Spencer positioned himself so that he was lying across the foot of the bed, his head propped up on his hands. He had a very clear view.

“So we can’t just go straight in with it, we need to get you ready. I want you to start running your hands over your body, feeling yourself, touching yourself.” His voice was low and persuasive, sexy and soft but with a hint of assertiveness.

Letting your hands trail over your torso, you followed his instructions; tickling and teasing your skin with your fingertips, carresing the tops of your thighs, massaging your chest.

“Wet a finger and use it on your nipple, Y/N.”

Again you did as he asked, sucking a finger into your lips and swirling your tongue around it, before bringing your hand to your breast and using your slick finger to circle a nipple, teasing it, the sensation going straight to your core. You flicked lightly, then using your thumb and forefinger to tug and pinch, your lips parting.

“Let your other hand do what ever feels right now, Y/N.”

Okay so that wasn’t a very specific instruction so you did what you’d normally do. You let the other hand move to your groin, letting your hand dip between your thighs, spreading them. You flicked your eyes to Spencer, seeing him watching intently as you ran your hand over your centre, finding your clit and starting to circle it slowly, your other hand still on your breast.

He allowed you to work for a few minutes, gasps leaving your throat every so often.

“Feel inside yourself Snow, just allow one finger to slip in, feel how wet you are.”

Not thinking too much about what you were doing, you allowed your finger to drag down the centre of your lips, finding the opening and gently pushing inside yourself, only met with a small amount of resistance as you curled you wrist to allow for a better angle, feeling how wet you were.

“Think you can fit another one in there?”

You did as he asked, groaning a little as you wriggled two fingers inside yourself, the silky fluid of your arousal coating them as you spread your legs wider, feeling for that dimpled patched of flesh along your inner wall.

You moaned as your fingers pressed against it, gently pumping them, curling them on it and then retracting slightly, repeating the motion. Spencer moved on the bed, and you heard a soft squirting noise and the felt his hand on your wrist, pulling you away from yourself.

Stopping with both hands, you awaited his next instructions. He handed you the purple silicone sex toy, it slick with lubricant.

“Just run it around the outside to begin with Snow, drag it over your clit, your opening. Get used to it.” His voice was still low, almost a whisper.

You moved the toy over your outer lips, rubbing it over your sensitive nerve. You could feel the silicone give slightly when pressure was applied, but not much. For the most part it was robust.

“When you’re ready push the tip inside. You don’t have to go far. The majority of the sensitive nerve endings are in the first third of your vagina.”

Closing your eyes, you placed the toy against your entry and pushed gently.

Jesus, fuck.

This was much bigger than the two of your fingers together. It didn’t have the same feeling as when you were penetrated with an actual penis, it was different. Not bad different, just…. different.

“When you’re comfortable starting moving it. Just little thrusts, you can rock it back and forth rather than in and out, whatever feels best.” His voice was starting to crack and croak. He was turned on, you could recognise it, his breathing becoming heavier as he watched you.

Knowing you were arousing him gave you encouragement and you gripped the toy tightly, adjusting the angle slightly and moving it in and out.

“Fuck Snow. I’m rock hard watching you do this. This will be replayed in my brain for a long time.”

Opening your eyes you glanced to the end of the bed, seeing he was palming himself over his pants. Christ, that was hot.

You moaned at the visual, his hand stroking up and down over.

“You’re watching me Spencer… Oh…. Ugh…. Let me watch you. Please.” You thrust the toy a little deeper, it hitting against your g-spot.

“I give the instructions here Snow. But seeing as you asked so nicely….”

He unzipped his pants and pushed them and his briefs off and on to the floor, discarding his mismatched socks as he went. Removing his shirt so that he was completely nude, he resumed his position; placing his hand to his groin and gripping his length, he began to slowly stroke.

You pumped the toy harder, the tip moving against the sensitive flesh inside you, your breathing quickening. The toy was now covered with your own juices as well as the lubricant.

“Use your other hand Snow, play with your clit.”

Oh god… If you started with your clit again you’d be coming in no time, especially hearing the groans coming from Spencer as he watched you intently, his teeth grazing his lip as his pumped his cock.

You added in your other hand, rubbing against your throbbing nerve endings, daring to go that little bit deeper with the toy. Your hips lifted off the bed as light-headedness started to overtake you, the telltale tremble in your legs settling in.

Moving the object faster, back and forth, in and out, your fingertips working frantically on your clit, you started to come, moaning out Spencer’s name and stars bursting inside your head.

“Spencer…. Oh fuck….. Oh god…. Yes… Yes…. Ahhh…oh shit…. ”

You finished loudly and quickly, feeling quick movement from the foot of the bed, a hand grasping your wrists and pulling the toy from you.

“I need to be inside you.” Reid gave his explanation, adjusting himself between your thighs, pulling your socked legs up and over his shoulders as he pushed himself into your slit, filling you with an altogether different sensation.

Leaning forward onto his hands, he began his thrusts, the position you were in allowing him deep inside.

The orgasm you’d just finished reignited and your gasps and whines started back up again as you dragged your hands down his back.

No longer than sixty seconds and you were coming again, without any clitoral stimulation this time, the feeling different but still euphoric. The feeling of your walls tightening and clenching around him had Spencer coming moments later, lowering your legs and crashing on top of you when he done.

You lay there together panting, trying to catch your breaths.

“That was one of the most sexiest and beautiful things I’ve watched, Y/N. That is definitely happening again tonight. And yes, that is a command.”

“ ‘kay…. Break first. Dying here…. ”

He chuckled at you, planting a kiss on your breast and rolling off.

Handing you the water, he agreed. “ Break first.”

Fic: Obviously Because It’s Us

Title: Obviously Because It’s Us
Rating: PG (for a bit of language)
Word Count: 1.5K
Summary: Obviously their wedding day would be like this…
Tags: Established Relationship, Wedding, Fluff, Humor, Awkward Nerds
Author’s Note: For @inkyhowlter, who requested “It’s Dan and Phil’s wedding day but like most events in their life, everything seems to go wrong. Much hilarity and fluff ensues!” I’m not sure if I achieved hilarity, but there is certainly humorous awkwardness. Additional thanks to the treehouse mailing list for their support!

Obviously Because It’s Us

Phil held his small video camera at arm’s length as he lay in bed, waving a hand cheerily and chirping, “Welcome to another Sleepless Night with Phil, night before the wedding edition!”

He looked at the phone on the bedside table, then amended, “Make that morning of the wedding edition, because it’s 2 a.m. and I haven’t been able to sleep a wink. I think it’s because Dan’s such a romantic he wanted to sleep separately the night before the ceremony, and I can’t sleep without him here! So I thought I’d hang out with you guys for a while…”

Keep reading

YFIP: “Damon” Albarn
  1. That’s not even his REAL name its Damebledorf Albarnicus 
  2. Pagan chimpanzee wizard man-child only ages in Golden Retriever dog years
  3. IS AN ARIES. sad. tragic.
  4. Taught Harry Potter everything he knows and that is why it took Harry so long to defeat the dark lord bc Damebledorf Albarnicus was kicked out of wizarding school for drinking his own love potion
  5. this is why he’s in love with himself
  6. Patronus is a stoned monkey dressed like a sea captain
  7. Will buy gold tooth but will not buy new clothes
  8. Does not know how to laundry this is FACT coz all his shirts are DIRTY n wears same underwear like every concert???
  9. Chronic swamp ass
  10. Once put poop tooth bacK INTO his mouth
  11. Makes me ask him “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?!” 
  12. The answer is yes, he KISSES people with his pOOP MOUTH
  13. Mean to Alex James very not nice bc Alex James is a beautiful princess
  14. Obsession with socks but his feet so so smelly???? Does not know how to shower tbh has never heard of soap
  15. Once said something mean about the Beastie Boys and I will never forgive him for that like ummmmmm you once wrote a song about shoe shine sooooooooo how come u judge???? no one cares about cool shoe shines buddy
  16. Dresses like zombie on halloween to cover up the fact that he is actually dead
  17. veins have been surgically replaced with guitar strings i know bc i was the doctor on call the night he came in
  18. still a virgin
  19. doesn’t know how to read just memorized a lot of words
  20. jeans too baggy so he can cover up his 8 penis’
  21. that;s why his nickname used to be “octopenis”
  22. Ludacris only fills cups like DD’s bc Damon taught him how
  23. Nose too cute?????? ILLEGAL AND RUDE.
  24. cannot invite him to your party otherwise he will just come over and lay on your couch and wipe his tears with deli meat while forcing everyone to listen to Adam Ant
  25. Looks like a homeless pencil
Every Me And Every You - Twenty Four

The rest of the afternoon was spent lounging around his apartment watching reruns of some crime show on his TV and picking apart the inaccuracies. Spencer made you both a sandwich and some juice and then you sprawled out on his couch, face down.

Reid came and sat next to you, placing a pillow on his lap which you then shifted your head onto as you watched the show in extremely comfortable silence, Spencer stroking your hair gently. It was nice. Almost….too nice.

Every half an hour, he made you push down your pajama pants so he could reapply the aloe gel. You’d joked that he just wanted to feel your butt but he explained that you were going to be sitting on it for a large portion of time this evening so he wanted you to feel comfortable in the theatre.

After a few hours he told you to go and shower and to start getting ready and you did. As you exited the shower, he was hovering in his room waiting to go in after you.

You sat in your towel blow drying and then styling your hair, half up and half down, a style that Reid had previously said he liked on you, and then applying make up, keeping it light but so that it did look like you’d made an effort. You were going to the theatre after all. You waited for Spencer to finish before dressing, not sure if there’d be any specific underwear requirements tonight.

He came out around twenty minutes later, a towel tied around his waist and another smaller one in his hands as he rubbed his head with it.

“Were you planning on wearing the towel all evening?” he asked you, standing by his drawers and pulling out boxers and socks.

“Nope but I didn’t know if I was required to wear anything special for you underneath.”

“Ah yes. You bought the crotchless panties didn’t you? And the bra that came with it?”

“Are you fucking shitting me?” He wanted you to sit in a crowded theatre in crotchless underwear? The restaurant was one thing but you’d be sat directly next to someone else tonight.

“Yes, I’m shitting you. Wear whatever underwear suits your dress the best. There won’t be any games in the theatre tonight. Knowing how loud you can get I decided not to risk it. Although I had thought that if I timed it right, that you could be the ‘Uh Uhv during cell block tango.” He beamed at you, pleased he’d made a reference to the show.

“We’d get kicked out….”

“Exactly. So no games tonight.”

“What about when we’re back?”

He laughed. “You’ve really got quite the appetite haven’t you?”

You could feel yourself blushing.

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed Y/N. It’s healthy to have a good sexual appetite. Orgasms release so many endorphins into your body, it’s good for you.”

“I’m just…. enjoying trying these new things is all. And… Well, you’re extremely good at making me feel good….”

He really was. How you were going to find another guy as good as him, you didn’t know. You weren’t going to think about that until you had to though. You didn’t know how long this little adventure was going to last for and you weren’t going to rock the boat.

“I’m still waiting for you to say that without sounding surprised, Y/N.”

“You might be waiting a while.”

You both dressed, no longer shy about being naked around him you just let your towel drop before bending over and pulling your underwear from your bag. You heard Spencer let out a low whistle, and you stood upright and turned to him.

“Sorry,” he shrugged. “But you should totally see your butt.”

He took your hand and led you over to his wardrobes, turning you around so that your back was to his mirrors, his front only inches from yours. Turning your head, you saw what he’d been whistling at.

Your buttocks were still scarlet, the outline of a faint hand print against one. You reached your hands behind you, running them over your cheeks and feeling the heat searing through your hands. You could hardly feel any pain from them now, just a warm throb that you’d started to get use to.

You could see Spencer’s reflection, his eyes on your hands, watching them as you felt and caressed your skin. Glancing between you, you could see he was hard, his towel tenting at the front.

“How much time have we got?” you asked him.

Catching your drift immediately he responded, “Enough if we don’t shower again. I’ll wear a condom to save the mess. Go and put your heels on and then bend over in front of the mirror.”

You moved quickly, grabbing your shoes and slipping your feet into them and seeing Reid drop his towel and pull a foil packet from the bedside drawer.

You stood in front of the mirror and waited for him to move behind you. He pushed on your back.

“Grab your ankles.”

You did as he said, realising quickly why he’d told you to put the heels on. Spencer was a good few inches taller than you and unlike the shower, there was no where for you to lift yourself up.

He gripped your hips and slowly pushed himself into you. You didn’t need any foreplay this time, the view of your red ass had been enough to make you ready for him.

The sex was quick, in spite of the fact that he was wearing a rubber which you normally hated. You didn’t like the feel of them and they detracted from the sensation normally although you could tell he was wearing a ribbed one. Watching yourselves in the mirror added to the excitement and when he slipped his fingers round to your front, you were coming within minutes, him following shortly after.

You caught his eye in the mirror as he prepared to pull out and you couldn’t help but laugh, him joining in. Five minutes ago you’d been getting dressed and now you were hot and sweaty again.

He pulled himself out of you, removing the rubber and knotting it quickly as you stood up. Using the baby wipes you used as make up removers, you mopped up between your legs, using a fresh one under your arms and rolling on fresh deodorant. Spencer disappeared into the bathroom to discard the condom and you quickly touched up your hair and make up, then reapplied aloe gel to your butt. Spencer banging against it had reawakened some of the pain, but it wasn’t anything too bad. You actually loved how it felt.

You both dressed speedily, you in a dark crimson crushed velvet dress with an empire waistline, it flowing to just above your knees. You left your legs bare and pulled on a black shrug. Spencer wore dark pants and a moss green shirt, with a jacket pulled over. Just when you thought you were ready to leave, he stopped you and handed you a box.

“It’s good that you’ve decided to wear your hair the way you have. This is for you, I want you to wear it tonight and when we go out in the evenings together again.”

You knew he meant together like you were now, not together where the team were also out.

You opened the box see a black velvet choker, with a small teardrop shaped black diamond at the front. When you picked it up and turned it, you realised it wasn’t velvet the whole way around. At the back, right where your hair would hide it, it merged into leather and had a tiny buckle.

It was a collar. A beautiful collar.

He wanted you to wear a collar around your neck. To indicate you were his submissive. That you were HIS.

“Snow?…. Y/N?”

You handed him the choker and placed the box down, lifting your hair and turning your back to him so that he could fasten it on to your neck, admiring it in the mirror when you were done.

From the front, it did look just like an ordinary choker. A bit goth looking but pretty and it went nicely with your dark hair and pale skin. But you knew it wasn’t a choker, you could feel the buckle against the base of your neck.

Spencer fingered the little diamond, adjusting it so that it fell directly in the centre of your neck.

“Exquisite,” he told you, letting his hand trail all the way down your front and stopping on your tummy.

“Did the others wear this too?”

“No. Not this one at least. This one I bought especially for you. It’s beautiful, just like you are. And it falls perfectly against your neck. The others had plain leather ones, if I chose to make them wear one at all.”

So this one was special? Because it wasn’t plain.

Was he spinning you a line to make you feel special?

No. Spencer wouldn’t do that. He was honest.

You weren’t sure how to feel about that. 
But it was very pretty.

“Are you ready? We needed to have left ten minutes ago.”

“I’m ready.”

You’d sped to the theatre, making it just in time to see the curtain rising.

The show was brilliant. Yes, it wasn’t a Broadway cast and there were no big names in it, but the performers gave it their all and put on an astounding show.

Spencer behaved throughout the show, his hand placed on your knee, not budging.

During Cell Block Tango you heard him snicker at the first ‘uh uh’ and you peeped at him from the corner of your eyes, stifling a laugh yourself. By the end of the song you were both chuckling to yourselves, earning snide looks from the other people on your row.

At the end of the show, you stood at made your way to the foyer.

“Shall we get a quick drink in the bar here before we drive back?” Spencer asked, the other theatre goers milling around you.

“Yes. Let’s.” You agreed with him and he led the way to the bar, pointing out two seats in the corner.

“I’m just going to go to the bathroom and then I’ll be straight back.”

You sat down and pulled your phone out, checking for messages.

“Y/N?” A familar voice.


Shit shit shit.

Hans: “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.

Anna: "Merry Christmas you great, big, wonderful, adorable husband you! Do you love me?”

Hans: “Mhm-hm.”

Anna: “How much?”

Hans: “A lot. But not enough to tell you what your Christmas present is.”

Anna: “Now what makes you think that’s what I wanted to know! And what is it?!”

hannaficdump I’m your Secret Santa! Enjoy and Happy Holidays<3

Bonus: There’s a hidden Mickey! :)

anonymous asked:

max is going to pick up on magnus' nonsensical way of wearing accessories and hes gonna wear socks on his hands and wrap a necklace around his ankle. hes not gonna give a shit either lmao

Oh god yes, that boy starts wearing his belts backward as soon as he’s old enough to wear a belt in the first place. Growing up with Magnus and Alec for parents, he’s always very interested in fashion and clothes, and he absolutely takes Magnus’s wardrobe as proof that accessories are meant to be worn however the individual wants them to be worn. 

Cut to sixty-year-old Max, wearing a backward belt and a bow tie as a bracelet, shouting “This is how I was raised!”

the-wanderer-of-the-universe  asked:

What are the 2p Allies dressing up as this year? (Also I hope you've had a good day. ^-^)

2p!America/Allen Jones- The classic joker, but he complains about the hair paint fumes the entire time…millions of selfies with strangers, but he doesn’t mind.

2p!Canada/Matthew Williams- He just paints his ace and if any one asks what he is he says ‘guess’ and then yes to whatever their first guess is.

2p!China/Xiao Wang- He wears nothing but pot merchandise. Beanie, shirt, necklace, pants, socks, sandals. 

2p!England/Oliver Kirkland- Probably the mad hatter or white rabbit. 

2p!France/Francois Bonnefoy- Shirt that says ‘costume’.

2p!Russia/Viktor Braginsky- He’s not.

That Nerd

Nerdy virgin Luke smut. If you read I hope you enjoy :)

That Nerd

You sat in math class. You wanted to bash your face into your desk, you understood nothing and it was so frustrating. You clenched your jaw and balled up your fists. You had so many notes and understood none of them.

“Y/N?” A small voice pipped beside you.

You turned to look at Luke Hemmings, the school’s biggest nerd.

“Your knuckles are turning purple,” he mumbled out looking shyly down at his pale fingers that laid on his desk.

“Oh…thanks,” you said unclenching your hands.

He hummed in response. And that’s when it hit you, ‘Luke can be my tutor!’

“Hey do you understand this crap?” You asked looking from the board to him.

“Of course I do,” he said arrogantly.

“Well, could you maybe like tutor me or something?” You asked blushing slightly.

“Fine. My house after school today, does that work?” He sighed out.


“Ok your driving us there then,” Luke added.

“Oh, ok. Sure.”

The bell rang and Luke said quietly, “meet me by the front doors when you’re done.”

You nodded and walked to your locker. You thought about how Luke was the stereotypical nerd. He wore a dress shirt constantly and always had it perfectly tucked into his kakis, he sometimes wore a bow tie that always matched the socks he would wear, and you never saw him without his hair slicked back or without his thick rimmed glasses. Even though he was a nerd he was rather attractive. He had bright icy blue eyes, a heart-melting smile, and he was tall with broad shoulders.

As you shut your locker door you heard something big hit the lockers down the hall a little always. You turned your head to see what it was. Luke was laying on the ground, his books and papers strewn about, his glasses broken, his hair a mess, and his argyle sweater vest ripped. But nobody was around. You quickly made your way over to him. When you got closer you saw that his eye was black and almost swollen shut and his lip was broken. He was shacking like crazy and a single tear was running down his left cheek.

You kneeled down in front of him and put your hands on his shoulders examining him, “oh Luke, are you alright? What happened?”

“Nothing. I’m fine,” he mumbled.

“You clearly aren’t,” you said as he shook under your hands.

“I’m use to it ok,” he snapped at you slightly.

“Nobody should be use to something like this. Who did this to you?” You asked concerned.

“Nobody. Doesn’t matter,” Luke mumbled.

“Yes it does.”

Another tear rolled down Luke’s cheek as he shook.

You hugged him and whispered, “it’ll be ok, don’t worry.”

Luke hugged you back tightly and buried his face into your neck. You rocked him back and forth slowly as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“I’m going to drive you home, but you don’t need to tutor me tonight. I’ll just clean you up, is that ok?” You whispered as you held him.

“Yes,” he whispered very quietly.

“Can you see without your glasses?” You asked as you picked them up to look at them better.

“Luke are these fake?” You asked still holding him.

“Don’t tell, please. Please don’t tell Y/N,” Luke begged as he pulled away from you.

You looked at him puzzled, “I won’t?”

“Please,” Luke pleaded.

“I promise I won’t. Now let’s get this all picked up so we can get you cleaned up.”

After everything was picked up you jammed all of Luke’s stuff in your backpack and helped him stand up. He winced and grabbed his ribs.

“Do you need to go to the hospital?” You asked as you knitted your eyebrows in concern.

“No, I-I’m alright,” he stammered.

“Ok,” you said hesitantly as you held out your hand.

Luke looked at your hand then you.

“I clearly don’t bite,” you giggled.

“I was just trying to figure out why a popular girl would want to take my hand, a total nerd’s hand for that matter,” he blushed slightly.

You shrugged and gently grabbed his hand and interlaced your fingers. Luke looked at you in awe as you began to walk with him to your car.

When you got to Luke’s house you went into his bathroom to fix him up.

“So how often does this happen to you?” You asked your voice dripping with concern.

“Not to often.”

“Luke,” you said crossing your arms.

“Ok, ok. A lot,” he said shamefully.

“Only at the end of the day?”


“Then when Luke?” You asked as you dabbed ointment onto his broken lip.

He sighed and winced, “every morning on the bus, and then when I get to school. Also at lunch because my friends don’t have the same lunch as me so I have to sit alone, also at the end of the day, and then on the bus on the way home. So it happens to me at least five times a day everyday.”

You looked at him and your heart shattered as those words left his broken lips. You thought, 'How could anybody do that to this sweet boy?’

“Well I’m going to drive you to school everyday, and walk with you to your locker in the morning and to home room. I’m going to sit with you at lunch because you’re in my lunch and I’m going to drive you home everyday. And I will walk with you to your locker between classes too.”

“No it’s fine. I’m use to it, really,” he said as he took a sharp breath.

“Sorry,” you apologized for pressing on his swollen eye too hard.

“Luke I don’t care if you want me to or not, I’m going to drive you and walk with you.”

“But that’s social suicide for you. You shouldn’t do that for me, I’m not worth it.”

“I think you are, you’re very kind and such. I don’t get why people do this to you…I’m sorry but I need to look at you ribs,” you blushed.

Luke sighed and pulled his shirt off. He had chiseled muscles. He had a defined six pack and v-line. He was sexy. His toned body was littered with bruises. There were bright purple new ones and faded purple ones. You ran your hand slightly down his toned chest and you felt tears forming in your eyes. He flinched slightly and looked at you baffled.

“I don’t get it,” you mumbled.

“Get what?” He whispered out as you took your hand off his chest.

“Why anybody would want to do this to another person, especially you.”

After Luke was bandaged up you went into his room and sat there with him. You just talked. You talked about anything and everything, there was never a moment of silence between the two of you.

The next day you picked Luke up from his house to drive him to school.

“Wow,” you said as he got in your car.

“What?” He asked raising an eyebrow.

“You look…different,” you giggled.

His normally slicked back hair was in a messy quiff, he was wearing a tattered flannel and a band shirt under it, he had black torn skinny jeans on, black converse, and a black lip ring in.

“Is that bad? I can go change,” he said quickly.

“No you look really good,” you smiled sheepishly, in all honesty he looked super sexy.

“Thank god. I’m so sick of laying low in school,” he sighed in relief.

“You’ll definitely be a chick magnet now,” you giggled and he wrinkled his nose.

“What are you gay?” You playfully hit his shoulder.

“Oh fuck no!” He laughed.

“I just really like this one girl and I know she won’t ever like me, but I don’t really want anybody but her,” he shrugged and blushed slightly.

“You never know. Who is it?”

“I’m not telling you that!” He said pretending to be appalled.

“Ok, ok,” you laughed.

When you got to school you took Luke’s hand and walked into the school hand in hand. Everybody was staring at you and the hallways quickly filled with whispers. People were coming over near Luke’s locker to see if what they heard was true.

“You know they think we’re a couple,” Luke whispered as he opened his locker.

You leaned against a locker next to his and whispered back, “I don’t care, I don’t want you getting hurt anymore.”

Luke sighed and nodded.

At lunch you quickly found Luke and sat next to him.

“Hi,” you smiled as you plopped your lunch box down.

“You know you don’t have-”

“Yes I do,” you said looking at him.

He nodded and ran his hand through his quiff.

“So I can help you with math tonight if you want,” Luke said after a short while.

“Actually, could we maybe just hang out?” You asked as you picked your sandwich up.

“Why would you want to hang out with a nerd?” He mumbled.

“One of the same reasons I’m sitting with that nerd at lunch. And since I committed social suicide for that nerd he’s the only friend I have now,” you mumbled as you took a bite out of your sandwich.

“I’m sorry Y/N,” he whispered, you could barely hear him over the loud chatter of the lunch room.

“It’s not your fault. I’m my own person. I made the decision because I think your worth it.”

“I’m a loser, I’m not worth it.”

“Luke you are not a loser. You are going to go far in life.”

Luke sighed. For the rest of the lunch the two of you ate in silence.

You and Luke continued to hang out in and out of school for two weeks. You totally forgot about your desperate need for help in math because you were in love with the school’s biggest nerd, Luke Hemmings. You wanted to spend every moment with him. You wanted to do nothing but talk to him for hours.

“There will be a three chapter test tomorrow. So that would be chapters 21, 22, and 23,” your math teacher said snapping you from your thoughts.

Your eyes bulged and your mouth fell open. Luke gently squeezed your hand under your desk. You looked at him and smiled slightly.

“I’ll help you tonight, I promise,” he leaned over and whispered in your ear.

“My house? My parents won’t be home so less distractions,” you whispered back.

“Sounds good,” he smiled cheekily.

When the bell rang you took Luke’s hand and went to each other’s lockers and then headed out to your car.

When you got to your house you took Luke’s hand and led him up to your room.

You threw your bag down next to your bed and asked, “mind if I change?”

“No, course not,” Luke said as he sat on the edge of your bed.

You grabbed a tank top and a pair of knit shorts and changed in your bathroom. When you walked back into your room Luke ran his eyes down your body making you internally smirk.

“So what all don’t you understand?” Luke asked as you sat next to him.

You looked at him and blinked, “I honestly don’t get any of it,” you sighed, “I’m stupid.”

“Don’t ever say that, you are not stupid!” He said knitting his eyebrows as he looked at you.

You sighed and played with the hem of your shorts.

Luke began to go over chapter twenty-one with you, but you were so distracted by him. You watched how his lip ring moved when he talked, how his eyes ran over the pages, and how he knitted his eyebrows together when he was trying to concentrate on a problem.

“Luke?” You suddenly asked.

“Yeah?” He stopped reading and looked at you, sucking his lip ring in between his teeth.

“You’re beautiful,” you said.

“I-I…uh…um…I…” He began to stutter like crazy and blush like a tomato.

You giggled as you looked at the math book.

Then with out warning, Luke’s lips were on yours. Butterflies filled your stomach and found their way to the rest of your body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and smiled into the kiss. Luke broke the kiss and laid his forehead against yours.

“I love you,” he said breathlessly while searching your eyes.

Your heart stopped and then began to race faster than the speed of light.

You hugged Luke and whispered, “do you…do you really mean that?”

Luke pulled back and looked into your eyes, “of course I do. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I feel like I’ve known you my whole life. I love every single thing about you. You mean absolutely everything to me. It drives me crazy whenever we’re apart. I love you.”

You bit your lip as a tear slid slowly down your cheek.

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I would never mean to hurt you on purpose. I’m so so so so sorry. Please, I’m sorry.”

You giggled, “have you never heard of happy tears?”

Luke laughed and pulled you in for a hug, “I love you,” he whispered into your hair.

“And I love you,” you smiled.

“Can I kiss you again?” Luke asked sheepishly.

“Of course you dummy,” you giggled.

Luke kissed your lips with suck passion that the butterflies from your stomach swarmed into your heart and melted it. Luke put his hands on your sides and rubbed small circles on your stomach with his thumbs. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.

“Luke…” You moaned as he kissed the sweet spot on your neck.

“Oh, I’m-I’m sorry,” he said removing his lips from your’s and sitting back.

“It’s ok,” you smiled.

Luke was fidgeting and trying to cover the hugely noticeable bulge in his skinny jeans. He was redder than an over-ripe tomato. And you looked at him, studying him.

“Luke, are you…are you a virgin?”

Luke turned even redder if that was at all possible. He nodded his head yes as he shamefully stared at the ground, a single tear rolled down his cheek.

“Oh, Luke that’s not a bad thing,” you said hugging him, “I think it’s sweet.”

“It’s pathetic. I’m 18 and you’re the first girl I’ve ever kissed,” he whispered so quietly you could barely hear him.

“Really?” You asked shocked.

“Yes, ok?!” Luke said upset.

“Now go run and tell everybody! I know you want to!” He said as he put his head in his hands.

“Luke I would never do that to anybody, especially not to you. I love you, ok?” You said rubbing his arm.

“Nobody would ever love a nerd like me,” he mumbled.

“Yet I do,” you said sincerely.

Luke looked up at you. The whites of his eyes were tinted slightly red.

“But do you really mean it?”

“Of course I do Luke,” you said kissing his cheek.

“Would you ever have sex with me?” Luke asked sheepishly with red cheeks.

“Well I thought we were going to until we stopped kissing,” you turned slightly red.

“Wait, so would you do it now?”

“If that’s what you want,” you smiled shyly.

“Hell yeah that’s what I want,” Luke said as he pushed you gently back onto your bed.

He kissed your lips and then quickly attacked your sweet spot.

“You need to guid me,” he whispered between kisses.

“Grind your hips into mine,” you moaned out.

Luke ground his large bulge into your clothed core and you arched your back at the friction he created.

“Holy fuck!” He whispered against your collar bone.

You pulled on the hem of his shirt, “this off.”

Luke sat up slightly and whipped it from his toned torso. His abs flexing as he did so. You traced his muscles with your finger tips and you could see goose bumps erupting over his skin. You pulled your tank top over your head and took off your bra. Luke froze, his mouth falling slightly open. You giggled a little.

“You can touch me,” you smiled sheepishly at him.

“H-how?” He whispered.

You took his large hands in yours and placed one on each of your breasts. He froze again and didn’t move his hands.

“Do what feels natural,” you cooed.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It’s ok Luke just do whatever comes to you.”

At that he began to gently squeeze and massage them. He took your nipples between his fingers and began to roll them. He brought his head down to your nipple and began to flick it with his tongue. You arched your back to bring your breast closer to him. He took your nipple into his mouth and began to suck and nibble on it.

“Luke…” You moaned out as you ran your fingers though his hair.

“Am I hurting you?” He stopped and looked up at you.

You shook your head and whispered in his ear, “I want you…now.”

Luke pulled off of you and pulled down his skinny jeans. He looked at you unsure. You smiled slightly at him as you slid your shorts down your legs. Luke began to nervously play with the waist band of his boxers, he was red and slightly shaking.

“Luke it’s ok, I promise. I’ll be on top if you want,” you said sweetly as you ran your hand on his toned arm.

“I-I just don’t want to mess up,” he whispered.

“Hey, it’s all about you ok. Don’t worry about me I’ll be alright,” you said smiling.

Luke nodded and yanked his boxers off. His length slapped against his abs and he sighed slightly. Your eyes grew wide.

“What’s wrong?” Luke asked nervously running his hand through his quiff.

“Nothing’s wrong. You’re just so big.”

Luke smiled cheekily as he very gently pulled your panties down your legs.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said when you were fully bare.

You blushed and slightly smiled at him.

Luke lined himself up with your entrance and asked frantically, “shit, do you have a condom?”

“I’m on birth control,” you said as you pushed hair off of his forehead.

Luke pushed himself completely into you. You arched your back and moaned repeatedly. Once you were adjusted to Luke’s size he began to move.

“Fuck…Luke…can you go faster?” You moaned into his ear.

Luke began to pound into you making your headboard smack the wall.

“Put-put my leg on your sh-shoulder,” you stuttered out.

Luke nodded slightly and thew your leg onto his shoulder. He hit exactly on your g-spot and your toes started to curl.

“Y/N…I can’t go much longer,” Luke said breathlessly.

You reached down and began to roughly rub your clit and Luke swatted your hand away picking up where you left off. Your walls clenched around his length as your vision blurred.

“Fuck! Luke!” You screamed as you came onto his length.

“Shit! Yes! Y/N! Fuck!” Luke moaned as his hot fluids filled you.

He collapsed onto you and pulled out. He was breathing heavily and you could feel his heart pounding in his chest. You ran your fingers through his dampened quiff as you looked down at him. He hugged your waist and kissed your collar bone.

“That didn’t seem like your first time,” you giggled as you caught your breath.

You could feel Luke’s face heat up against your skin, “it was,” he whispered.

He looked up at you and you smiled.

“Um…would you like want to…will…you please be my girlfriend, please?”

“Of course I will,” you smiled as you kissed the tip of his nose.

“I’ve accomplished 3 things today,” he smiled.

“Accept the one that we were planning,” you giggled.

“Yeah…you can just copy my test,” he laughed.

You both walked around the room and collected your clothes. You swiped Luke’s Nirvana shirt from off the floor and threw it on. You sat on the bed and watched as he frantically looked for it. You were trying so hard not to laugh, but you couldn’t hold it in for long.

Luke looked at you confused and then smiled, “you look so gorgeous in it.”

You rolled your eyes, “you looked better.”

“So…we should cuddle,” Luke smiled cheekily

You crawled up to the top of your bed and slid under the covers. Luke slid in behind you. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to him.

“I love you Luke,” you whispered.

“I love you too Y/N,” he whispered as he kissed your ear.

You shut your heavy eyes and fell asleep in your boyfriends strong arms.


Does he really need another tie?

There’s a plethora of tired dad clichés out there (dad bods anyone?)—but on Father’s Day, we take our pops seriously. We want to give them presents that are as thoughtful as the way they treat us. The Sephora Glossy rounded up a handful of colognes that were practically brewed with dad eccentricities in mind. Whether your dad loves his dog more than you (kidding!) or he taught you everything there is to know about folk artists, there’s a fragrance that captures his originality, right here.


For the…Softball Coach Dad

Paco Rabanne Invictus

This trophy-shaped cologne was crafted to be the “scent of victory,” making it the perfect gift for the world’s #1 dad. Even more so if he devotes Saturdays to teaching his pitching technique to little leaguers. This fragrance is as light as the fresh-cut grass he’s used to on the diamond, with bright notes of grapefruit fizzing it up. The scent even has its own curveball—patchouli—that’s been blended in to give it a richness that’s not overpowering.

For the…Musician Dad

Viktor & Rolf Spicebomb

He may have good taste in music—attested by his vinyl collection—but Dad might need help finding a fragrance that’s also a crowd pleaser. Spicebomb is for someone who loves classic rock as much as the latest garage band, because it combines old-world ingredients, like tobacco, with the fresh and unexpected, like white leather accord and chili. And, clearly, a scent called Spicebomb is made for those who love on-stage explosions.

For the…Craftsman Dad


Did your pops build you a treehouse when you were a kid? If yes, first off, we’re pretty jealous—can we come over? Second, he more than deserves to get his calloused hands on this TOM FORD scent, created for men who live for the scent of fresh-cut wood. Even if he’s more of a small-scale birdhouse-building kind of guy, this oud, cardamom, and vetiver cologne will still appeal to his love for natural elements.

For the…Best Dressed Dad

Yves Saint Laurent L’Homme Ultime

While your friend’s dads wore socks with sandals, your old man picked you up from school wearing loafers, lookin’ all types of sharp. For him, only Yves Saint Laurent will do. The fact that its L’Homme Ultime scent is new means this savvy dad hasn’t already scooped it up for himself. Ginger, clary sage, and cedarwood make up some of the many oils in this fragrance, meaning it’s potent with notes as strong as his sense of style.

For the…Camping Dad


If only dry shampoo was a thing all those times your Dad made you go camping as a kid. Well, at least you can give him something to keep him fresh the next time he sleeps under the stars. Somehow, the mixture of Dior SAUVAGE’s Ambroxan, Reggio bergamot, and Sichuan pepper ingredients come together to create a scent that’s simply rugged.


For the…Animal-Loving Dad


Dads with a weakness for puppy dog eyes now have a scent that matches their emotional side. Hugo Boss wanted to create a scent for men who listen to their hearts more than their heads, and they succeeded. To us, that translates to the kind of dad who picks up strays with open arms. His sweet soul would appreciate the leather, maninka fruit, ginger, and lavender ingredients that will make you think of him.


We'll Reach This Point Eventually

This is from Snakeskins, a HPxHetalia cross-over.

This will probably transform and appear as a chapter somewhere in the 80s, but for now it’s a ways off JUST spoiler-free enough that I can post it.

Still mad that this didn’t come out exactly how I wanted it though, I was aiming for OTP, not Plot.


The only problem Feliciano frequently had with America was that the other nation was far too powerful for one so young. He only knew how to use his fists and fleets to get the world to cooperate with him, and when he did try to use diplomacy he usually navigated the process like a penguin on hot sand.

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A little Sherlolly fluff

(I said I’d try writing some just to see if I could, and here it is. Hope you enjoy.)

It was when he first awakened that Sherlock Holmes was most human. Not in sleep, for there he was a sculpture, sublime and still—or perhaps some angel newly fallen from heaven and curled in his lonely nest. Molly smiled at her own silly poetry, for if she happened to wake in time to watch Sherlock crack his eyes open, she always found herself struck by his normality. By the way he sighed and scrunched his nose against the intruding light, and the way he puffed and rumbled at her if she offered him the affront of a cheerful “Good morning.” The way he would struggle free of the covers, then sit to stretch and carefully crack his neck exactly as any other man might. And if Molly leaned over for a kiss before he loped off to the bathroom, she would be met with a thoroughly ordinary case of morning breath.

The glimpse was always fleeting, because the first thing Sherlock always did was close the bathroom door between them. Later—sometimes much later—he’d emerge scrubbed, shaven, and styled to a fearful degree, smelling of a tastefully fine mist of cologne as he crossed to his wardrobe to contemplate which variant of charcoal suit he’d wear today. From that moment it was Extraordinary Sherlock before her, more or less masked and armoured—except for the few seconds after putting on his tall dress socks and before donning his trousers. A man in stocking feet was always faintly ridiculous, a fact of which he was well aware; Molly hid her giggle for his dignity’s sake.

Yes, Sherlock was very human, for all that he strove to present himself as otherworldly, invulnerable. Only Molly truly understood how much effort it cost him to maintain that front, and how much time it took to create himself anew each morning. Molly had learnt not to intrude on his ablutions, so unless she rose early and beat him to the bathroom, she must wait, drowsing in the bed. Often it was well worth the time, for Sherlock sometimes sang in the shower—another ordinary thing he did, though instead of Eighties ballads about small-town girls and city boys, Sherlock sang the baritone parts of Bach choral pieces, or so he had told her when she inquired.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention that to anyone,” he’d added in his stiff way. “Might get back to Mycroft.”

“I’ll add it to the list,” Molly replied; in truth, she took a certain tender pleasure in keeping such details locked in her heart, something for her alone to know about him. He crafted his persona with care to keep the world at arm’s length, but with her he felt safe enough to show who he really was—human indeed, in the end. He’d let her in at last. And although she never told him in so many words, Molly loved him best in these early moments—tousled and warm from sleep.

Things about Will Graham I never, or painfully rarely, see in fanfics

Will having a good dad.

Seriously, I think 99% of fics paint his dad as some drunken, horribly neglectful and abusive villain and yet I have never heard of this being canon in the books.  Will does not act like an abused kid and the fact he tries to be a good person or at least do the right thing (usually)shows, to me, he was raised with some morals and love. I just see his dad as loving him, raising him best he can, and working long hours to make sure his kid at least has a roof over his head and food to eat

Will buying or having good clothes that meet Hannibal’s standards. That Hannibal didn’t get for him.

 While yes, Sugar Daddy Hannibal is genital destroying, I sometimes long for a well dressed Will who has fashion sense but has no fucks or time to devote to it because he feels he has to impress no one. Yes, he gets invited to the opera. No he REALLY DOES have a damn nice tux to wear. He picked it out himself a few months ago because you never know.

Will having a neat house and being very organized.

I mean look at when Hannibal goes creeper stalker and looks in his drawers. Will has his socks paired up, his shirts folded and standing up. He has 7 very well behaved dogs, works on boat motors and fly fishing lures, two things that involve small, easily lost parts. Not to mention he is a teacher.  You GOTTA have your shit organized to do any of that. Maybe it’s not military neat but its not the pig pen most people paint it.

Will being a good cook/having a well stocked kitchen.

He grew up in the south, his dad worked long hours, I would imagine there were people, most likely a kindly neighbor who would watch him when he was too young to watch himself. We  saw him make food for the dogs so he obviously has skill. I say he learned it from old southern grannies who used to watch him and refined it when having to cook for himself and his dad. And since his dogs eat essentially “human” food, he would keep a well stocked kitchen if only for them.

 Plus it would be awesome to see Hannibal offer to try to teach him to cook and Will goes along then when Hannibal finishes with a relatively simple recipe…Will turns around and whips out some jambalaya that tastes like a god itself had blessed it or some beignets that make you believe in god.  Messy kitchen sex to follow.

ikeracity  asked:

charles stealing erik's clothes

He forgets to set his alarm the night before and since the entire universe appears to be conspiring against him, Erik wakes up with only five minutes till his first morning class starts. He rolls straight out of bed, forgetting for the fourth time this semester that he’d opted to take the top bunk, so when he crashes to the ground five feet later he wastes another minute just lying there, partially stunned.

Then he rallies, scrambling up to his feet and dragging himself over to his desk to shove all his notes and books back into his backpack, hoping that he’s grabbing the right stuff. At least he doesn’t have to worry about how much noise he’s making–Charles, because he’s a maniac, has his first class at 7am so he’s already gone from their dorm room.

It’s cold as balls outside even though it’s only October, so Erik makes a zombie-like dive towards his closet to dig out something warm to wear. The first thing that comes to mind is the overlarge sweater his mother knitted him, but after he digs through several piles of clothes he still can’t find it. Odd. He swore he only wore it once last week, which shouldn’t warrant being tossed into his dirty clothes hamper that currently smells like it would probably endanger the public health if released on the breeze, but maybe he’d thrown it in there thinking he’d get around to doing his laundry sooner rather than later. Oh well.

Erik pulls out a turtleneck instead, shrugs into his jacket, and snags a strawberry poptart from the box on Charles’ desk that Charles bought claiming they could share even though Erik knows for a fact Charles only eats oreo poptarts, and then heads out at a dead run to class.

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Anon prompted: Would you write a follow up to your homeless klaine fic? Maybe in a few years time after they’re settled and married, they come across a homeless kid and bring the kid to their home??

The Homeless!Klaine fic

“Hey, Sport, you hungry?" 

"Oh, starving!" 

Tim all but leaps off the couch to join Kurt and Blaine at the table that is covered with food to celebrate Christmas Eve. The three of them had been invited to several parties by Kurt and Blaine’s co-workers, but the three of them opted to stay alone. 

They always do. 

Because Christmas Eve means more to them than what most people realize. Sometimes it’s still hard for the now 13 year old boy to understand how much his life has changed in four years. 

Four years ago, he had been starving, too. 

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Time for a story - Like Superman

Originally posted by floydlawtoon

Sighing, Felicity stepped out of the shower. She could have stayed under the stream of water for at least an hour longer, enjoying the prickling of the slightly too hot water on her skin. Since she knew that doing so would mess with the plans of celebrating her first evening in parental leave, though, she had to cut the relaxing shower short.

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It hadn’t been anything special. They had just been in the lounge, watching something on TV. Dan was slouched against Phil’s chest, listening to his heart beat, feeling the vibrations through his skin when he spoke. Phil had held Dan’s hand, their fingers intertwined.

“Will you marry me?”

Dan had sat up, searching his boyfriend’s eyes for any sign that this was a joke. He found none. The grin spread across his face quickly, easily. “Fuck yes.”
Phil had pouted. “You’re not supposed to swear when agreeing to marry me!”
“And you’re supposed to have bought a ring and have dressed up in a suit. But instead you’re wearing spiderman pajamas and odd socks. Tough luck on both of us.”

Phil had grinned, wider than Dan had ever seen. “I love you.”
“I love you.”
And Dan had kissed him, tasting the word fiance on his lips.

anonymous asked:

Every morning, Aoba gets out of bed and gets dressed. Every morning, he stares at those banana socks and says "yes, fashion. I am fashionable."

Headcanon: Aoba enrolls in a local yoga class simply because the instructor is cute. He wears those stupid yellow yoga socks to class because the instructor happened to mention one day in passing that his favorite color was yellow. Aoba goes to yoga class after work everyday showin off how flexible he is. Tryin to get in cute yoga boy’s pants. All the women in class hate him. Thats my story and Im sticking to it.

Also explains the fucking leg warmers fuck you aoba.

Strawberries and silly socks
scandiaca submitted to superwholockthecomic:

Strawberries and silly socks

When John trailed into the TARDIS kitchen, he found Rose eating strawberries with way too much sugar in them. Every now and again, he tried to lecture her on healthy eating habits while Time- and Space-Travelling, but not before his morning cuppa. After the first molten-hot drop scalded his tongue, he felt adventurous enough to ask:

“So, where what are they doing today? Experimenting in the heart of the TARDIS? Testing the density of the library-pool by filling it with sand?” Rose took another bite of her strawberries, and shrugged her shoulders.

“Whatever it is, they have been at it all night. ‘suppose Sherlock hasn’t been in?” she asked with a cheeky smile. John groaned.

“Stop it! How would I know. For the last time… Sherlock crashed after a whole week of sleep deprivation, and my bed was the closest,” he argued, even as the tips of his ears turned pink.

“Of course,” Rose answered with a wiggle of her eyebrows. Their gentle morning fibbing was cut short by the two men in question bursting into the kitchen.

“Oh, you are finally up. Good, very good! Good Morning. Everything is so very good this morning,” the Doctor exclaimed, nearly dancing around their small kitchen in glee. Usually, that wasn’t enough for Rose to burst out laughing. However, both men were… well they had… John wasn’t quite sure he had the authority to judge, but Rose seemed very insistent when she asked:

“Why the hell are you two wearing the most ridicules socks in all time and space?” The Doctor seemed to positively glow in response, even as Sherlock huffed, a bit more self-concious but determined not to show it.

“You think so?” the timelord asked with evident satisfaction. “Not that I doubted it for a second. I mean,” he preened even more and tugged the knee high socks up even more. “I do possess the dress-sense of a Gaudanian celebrity. Whenever I go back there, it is all autographs here and pictures there…” he trailed off in his typical fashion that Rose found adorable, John mildly distracting, and Sherlock utterly maddening. John felt the need to put their conversation back on track.

“Why are you wearing knee high socks in neon colours and swirly patterns. Paired with boxers?” he asked, looking, but decidedly also not looking, at Sherlock’s particular choice of sock. Yes, the sock. Wherever else would he be looking?

Sherlock turned a bit pink along the cheeks. Which made his “Oh John, you are so slow sometimes” face less insulting. “Because we are visiting Gaudan, of course. The Doctor has received a distress call from the Empress herself. A triple locked spaceship mystery, John,” he explained, and John could feel him nearly vibrating with glee. God, Sherlock looked so alive like this. So gleeful.

“So, the socks are essential, then? No way around them?  Do I have to break out my reindeer Christmas socks?” Rose asked, looking both doubtful and intrigued, which was a rather common combination when travelling with a time lord and a consulting detective.

“No, no, no, Rose! The patterns and colours are most important. You cannot just wear any combination. It could get you arrested, or worse, proposed to!” The doctor exclaimed, still trailing around the room with frantic energy.

Rose shook her head with a smile. “Well, then, what does your combination say, then? Timelord in incognito?”

The doctor trailed away, driving his fingers through his hair with sudden urgency. “Oh… you know… just… the normal-”

“Oh please, can we speed this process along? The colour and pattern of his socks clearly designate him as taken and spoken for. Which is why he will most likely offer you the same combination in return. Clearly, we are trying to avoid an incident like Ravendora 3” Sherlock interrupted with all the impatience and lack of tact only a triple locked room murder brought out of him.

The doctor went pink all around the edges. So did Rose. Both avoiding each other’s eyes with the best of them. John took pity in their awkwardness, and tried to turn the conversation around.

“Well, what do yours signify, then?” he asked, and didn’t expect Sherlock to start looking shifty in return.

“Why are we still standing here … chatting about unimportant things, when there is a murder to be solved. Doctor!” he argued, and made a hasty escape towards the TARDIS control room. John stared after him in confusion, while the Doctor and Rose both grinned, former awkwardness forgotten. “Well, would you look at that. You should know, John, that neon red socks with black rings signify the wearer as being secretly in love."