but greg in this head dress

Mesmerized.

**REQUESTED.**
Harry is interested in Y/N but one problem: she isn’t.

••

Harry’s eyes kept glancing at where you stood. He didn’t know you but he knew that you were the kind of beautiful that he had never seen before. It was a mesmerizing kind of beautiful.

There he was, among people from Dunkirk and a lot of unfamiliar faces in Fionn’s house where Fionn threw a barbecue party to the people he befriended from the movie and his friends.

Harry nodded absentmindedly to one of Fionn’s friends, Greg, talking to him about football. It was like Harry was in two places. Half of him was focusing on what Greg was saying while the other kept thinking about the woman on the other side of the backyard.

“I’m going to get a drink. I’ll be right back.” Was the excuse Harry said before he walked towards the bar, where you stood laughing with two women. He stood beside you, ordering a cocktail, almost eavesdropping on your conversation. If his mother knew, she would definitely scold him.

“Harry! Oh, Y/N!” Fionn’s attention was diverted from Harry to the woman in a beige dress next to him. Y/N. Even her name sounded beautiful to Harry as he kept repeating it in his head. “Harry, come here,” Fionn grinned at his friend as he stood with Y/N and the two girls.

Harry approached them, feeling his heartbeat racing as he hit a close look at her face. He smiled when he saw her smile and reach out with her hand, which he gladly shook. “This is Y/N. My best friend since I learned how to walk I guess.” Fionn chuckled.

He then introduced him to the other two women beside Y/N and Harry doesn’t think he even caught their names, just that they were also Fionn’s friends. “I’m Harry.” He said with a smile before turning to look at Y/N.

Fionn’s arms were on your shoulders as he kept reminiscing about your childhood together as you, Harry and him sat on the grass together.

Then you laughed at what Fionn had said.

Harry was sure that it was a sound he will never forget. It was more harmonic than any song he had written and made him feel happy more than any drug anyone could convince him with.

“And then we-” Fionn was interrupted by one of his friends calling him over from the barbecue grill, “Don’t stop talking on my account. I’ll go see what they want.” He said before giving your cheek a quick usual kiss and getting up.

You fidgeted with your hands. Harry’s eyes looked at it. He wasn’t sure if you were nervous or if it was something you did when you felt awkward around someone.

“So, do you live in London?” Harry picked his balls from the ground -not literally- and finally asked you.

You nodded, “Have been for about five years and I’m staying to get master’s degree in psychology.” You grinned proudly.

To say that he was interested would be an understatement. You and him talked all day about everything and anything. You were laughing a joke he said when Fionn wiggled his eyebrows at him from afar, making Harry blush. “You should have your own show. I’d watch it.” You smiled at him.

“Only if you’d help out.” Harry suggested jokingly, pointing his finger at you.

“Oh, definitely.” You put your hand on your heart dramatically before breaking out in a grin.

It was 1 am when you said you had to leave. Disappointment filled Harry but he promised himself that it wouldn’t be the last time he sees you and so, you exchanged numbers.

“Harry! We forgot to add sugar!” Was what you said after you realized that the cake in the oven was sugar-free.
You and Harry have been friends for six months now with continuous coffee talks and movie nights. Harry even stole a cuddle one night.

Harry gave you a shocked look before he toppled on the floor, laughing hysterically. “I used to word in a bakery.” You mimicked him in a faux deep voice, laughing and shaking your head at him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Harry laughed out, taking breaths to calm himself down before he extended his arm, reaching out for you to pull him up. You put your hand in his, Harry ignoring the butterflies in his stomach. Harry was relaxing all of his weight on the floor, with no intention to get up which ended in you falling off on top of him as he was gripping your hand towards his body, pulling you onto him.
He didn’t mean it, he was only adding pressure to stand up.

His breath hitched as his face was centimeters from yours, your body on his. Your eyes went wide when you saw him close his eyes and start to lean in, making you stand up quickly and clear your throat. Harry opened his eyes, biting his lip embarrassingly before he got off the floor.

“So, the cake?” You breathed out, putting the oven mitts on.

After this day, Harry was rereading your exchanged texts on his phone. Now all of your “mate, dude, pal” sounded different. It sounded…too friendly. However, he promised himself to wait.

You were ignoring him. You didn’t return his calls or answer his texts because now, his pet names seemed real. too real. But Harry was a man who liked closure which brought him to your front door, his finger reluctantly touching the doorbell before he finally rang it.

And there you stood. With your hair in a messy bun and pajamas. After all, it was 11 and you wanted nothing but to sleep. But now, seeing Harry on your doorstep, you knew sleep would be the last think you could do right now.

“I had to see you.” Harry breathed out.

You sighed before moving aside to give him room to enter. When he did, you closed the door and walked towards your living room, Harry following you. You sat on the couch, watching as he sat beside you but keeping distance between the both of you.

“You’ve been ignoring me. Why?” He asked, making your stomach drop.

“I just,” You breathed out, starting to fidget with your hands. It was gesture you did when you felt nervous, Harry knew. You also sometimes cracked your knuckles but that was only during horror movies or when you were scared. He knew that.
“Were you catching feelings, Harry?” You asked, looking at him.

“I, uh,” He scratched his head nervously, “I already did.”

You looked at him guiltily, “Did I lead you on?”

“You’re not interested, are you?” Harry chuckled halfheartedly, shaking his head before looking at the ceiling to avoid your gaze.

“No, I am! Just-Just, just not like that. I’m sorry if I led you on. It was never my intention.” You apologized, watching him nervously.

He shook his head before standing up, “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry I ruined this.”

You stood up, approaching him, “You didn’t ruin anything. I’m still willing for us to be friends or whatever you think that will make you comfortable.” You said gently, looking at his eyes sincerely.

He smiled, “I’m going on tour in two days. Think you can accompany me to the coffee shop down the street tomorrow?”

“Then come back to watch Finding Dory here?” You suggested, a hopeful smile on your face.

“It’s a plan.” He smiled. He leaned down, giving your forehead a kiss, “I’m sorry. Goodnight.” And with that, he left.

Originally posted by tmlnsn

It wasn’t until we were driving home from dinner that my wife Diane told me that the chips and guacamole I had been eating hadn’t been meant for the entire table.

“Deb and Gary ordered it for themselves when you were in the restroom.”

“What!?  But I thought that everybody was…”

“Nope, just you.”

“Oh no!”

Diane slouched casually down in the passenger seat and kicked her feet up on the glove box.

“It was strange,” she said.  "Your face was so red and contorted.  It was like you were eating just to see if you could eat everything.“

In a cold sweat I thought back to the dinner and realized that my wife’s description was spot on.  Not only had I partaken in the chips and guacamole, I had been attacking them like a starved animal.  At one point I was even rhythmically alternating between hands the way a boxer might attack a heavy bag.  Left chip, Right chip. Dip, dip.  Eat, eat.

"You couldn’t have told me?” I asked weakly.

“We were trying to tell you without making a big deal out of it,” said Diane.  "I called your phone a couple times and I know Greg was trying to kick you.“

"That was Greg?  Christ, I thought that was you!”

And in fact, I HAD noticed the kicking.  Thinking it had been a rare moment of erotic spontaneity from my wife, I had returned the ‘kick’ by removing a dress shoe and pinning my opponent’s leg with a single stocking foot before sliding my toes inquiringly up and along the length of the accompanying inner-thigh.

“How did Greg seem when we left?” I asked.

After Diane went to bed that evening, I sat awake sipping whiskey sours and replaying the evening’s events in my head.  It wasn’t until after my third or so drink that I decided it was best to simply call up Deb and Gary to apologize and explain the miscommunication.  But I was unprepared!

“Hello?” answered a groggy voice.

“Avocados,” I slurred.

“Who is this?”

I hung up.  

The next morning it dawned on me that probably every single phone had Caller ID.  I wanted to ask Diane if Deb and Gary had Caller ID, but in a way that seemed casual so as not to reveal my actions from the night before.

Over coffee I said, “So last night Barb was telling me that Deb and Gary don’t have Caller ID.  Haha!  Man!  Is that even true?”

“Why would Barb say that?”

“She just did, goddammit!”

anonymous asked:

18 nurseydex

18.  “I think you’re beautiful.”

So I’m going to try to keep these short (try being the operative word–I’ve never been great at brevity when it comes to writing fic)


“Derek, have you seen my tie?” Will shouts out as he steps out of the bedroom and into the hallway.

“I thought you draped it over the baseboard?” Derek replies, his voice coming from one of the kids bedrooms–he can’t tell which.

“I did, but now it’s not there,” Will says, walking toward the sound of his voice, peeking into each room as he passes it.

Derek grunts.  “Walter, would you please–I just need to get this shirt on,” he says, sounding wholly exasperated.  But then again, a morning spent trying to wrangle four kids under the age of eight into appropriate clothes for a wedding–and then keeping them on–would do that to you.

Will steps into Walter and Greg’s shared room.  Greg is seven, and he’s sitting on his bed, glaring at Derek (Greg made his displeasure at being forced to attend very clear several days ago).  Walter is five, and currently only has underwear on as he tries to squirm away from Derek, who looks calm, but Will can see the strain in his eyes.

Will smiles, and takes pity on his husband.  “Derek, why don’t you go finish getting ready.  I’ll deal with this,” he says, placing a kiss on his cheek (which earns a snort of disgust from Greg).

“But you’re not finished getting ready,” Derek protests, stumbling slightly as Walter makes another attempt at escaping his arms.

Will raises an eyebrow.  “At least I’m in nice pants and a dress shirt.  You’re still wearing sweats.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Will mimics teasingly.  “Not to say that you don’t look good even in sweatpants.  I think you’re beautiful no matter what you’re wearing.”

“Ugh, gross!  Daddy stop it!” Greg groans, flopping backward onto his bed.

“Your dad isn’t being gross, he’s being very sweet,” Derek says, leaning over and pecking Will on the lips.

“Why are you guys like this?” Greg complains.

“It’s what people who love each other do,” Will shrugs.  “You see it with your uncles all the time.”

“I’m never going to be like that,” Greg replies insistently.

“Give it time buddy,” Will says, chuckling to himself as he walks over to pat Greg’s head.

“Um–” Derek utters and Will turns around and sighs.  Walter has escaped his grip, and across the hall, he can see that Maria has managed to pull her dress most of the way over her head.

“I’ll get Walter, you handle Maria,” Will says.

“We’re going to be late,” Derek responds.

“I doubt Ransom and Holster are going to mind much,” Will says.  “In fact, they might even be late to their own wedding.  I’m sure Christian is giving them hell–you remember what two year olds are like.”

“Please don’t.  I’m trying to block that out of my memory.”

“I’m just saying they’ll understand,” Will says as they both step out into the hallway.  “At least now half of our kids we can trust to stay dressed while we chase the other half around.”

“Yeah, well, let’s try not to give Greg any ideas,” Derek replies, and they both laugh.

c0sette-fauchelevent  asked:

I was recently stalking the Phantom Broadway Instagram and I noticed that Rodney's suspenders have lizards on them. Does that have any particular meaning or is it just a personal touch?

To be frank, I suspect it’s just head of costumes finding a pair that looks decorative and rich on stage rather than them saying something about the character of Raoul. Raouls in the US has had an amazing range of patterns and colours. Here’s some favourites.

Deck of cards (Jordan Donica):

Fancy dress figures/jesters (Tim Martin Gleason):

Peacock leaves (Jeremy Hays):

Not sure what this is. Mercury caduceus? (Greg Mills)

Lizards (Rodney Ingram):

Raouls around the world has also had very nice patterns and colours, but usually floral or geometric ones, not the very specific motifs seen in the US. In many productions all white or all black suspenders has also been used. And yes, I do of course have an own tag devoted to the subject, haha!

http://operafantomet.tumblr.com/tagged/raoul%27s-suspenders

Please Part 2

Surprise Lovelies!! The sequel is finally here! I hope you all like it… I struggled with how to write this and I think I did alright.

Warning: Angst Ahead

Word Count: 3010

(Please Part One)

Tag Zone: @shamagangster @musicalmoriarty @imagineham @imaginebeinghamiltrash @daveedish @crazypurplebananas @la-frenchiest-frite @secretschuylersister @love-doesnt-discriminate @getupoffathathang @th-mtchndr-s-th-pwrhs-f-th-cll @workworkbae @marquiis-de-la-baguette @consumed-by-musicals @drugsdiggs @hamfan22 @lawliette1031 @y-lue @hamfamhamfam @chloehamiltonn @patron-saintof-sluts @hanakatsumi @americanrevelation @ginnemer @mofoing-democraftic-republican @mysterywriter36 @librarychild @parksxo @canadian-hufflepuff @thepaddyb @tallish-hobbit 


If you thought getting in the cab was the hardest thing you had ever done, sitting on the plane as it took off was pure torture. You had could see his desperate expression and still hear him begging you not to go the entirety of the flight. When you had landed, your sister picked you up. She said nothing to you the entire car ride back to her house as you stared out the window even though it had looked like she really wanted too.

This is my dream. This is everything I have wanted my whole life. That was your mantra every day when you woke up and went to rehearsals. For weeks you had let your new roll consume you and distract you from the ache you felt. You hadn’t had the strength to go onto Facebook. You weren’t ready for that yet. Daveed had tried multiple times to call you and text you. He begged you to talk to him, to give the long distance thing a chance. You had sent one reply back letting him know that you had made it safely and you were fine. Nothing more after that, you knew that if you started talking to him that your resolve would break down.

That had been four years ago. Your role as Meg had come to an end when a position at the Majestic had opened in the costume department. It was an easy decision, you had become so close with the cast and crew that you didn’t want to leave when your contract was up. They were ecstatic that you had stayed on. Some days you would go on online and see what Daveed had been up to, until you had seen him smiling with his arm around a beautiful girl on vacation. He had moved on and it had hurt you more than you had cared to admit. It was petty but you unfollowed him after that and promised your sister that you would put yourself back out there.

Keep reading

Today’s the Day! (TG/AP)

Today was the big day. Suzy’s brother was getting married and everyone had already filled the church in preparation for the ceremony. Suzy’s 14 year old nephew, Greg, was sitting in one of the pews with his phone out. He tapped away at the keyboard, trying to pass the time until the ceremony, which should have started 15 minutes ago, to pass. After 20 minutes had passed, Greg decided to get up and go to the bathroom. At the same time, Suzy caught word of her brother’s fiance deciding to run away at the last second. Fearing her brother would never be able to live down the embarrassment of being stood up on his own wedding day, she ran out of the church to grab her purse in the reception area. As she was running, she bumped into Greg as we was walking out of the bathroom. Suzy blew past Greg without saying a word. Curious about his aunt’s hurry, Greg decided to follow her. Once they reached the reception room, Suzy reached into her purse and pulled out an old shriveled monkey’s paw.

“Aunt Suzy,” he said,“ what is that thing?” Suzy looked at Greg, not realizing he had followed her.

“Erhm…well, it’s a monkey’s paw. You know the old folktale that says they can grant wishes? I bought one from a Gypsy while I was in Europe.”

“You don’t actually believe in any of that, do you?” he questioned.

“No, but I started carrying it around with me just in case.” Hearing this, Greg began to look at his aunt like she was crazy. “Oh well, can’t hurt to try…” she said as she clasped both hands around the paw and held it up. “I wish for my brother’s wedding to not be ruined.”

Greg and Suzy both felt a pulse of energy come from the monkey’s paw as a decrepit finger curled. Greg then began to feel a tingling sensation spread across his body. The tingling intensified right before Greg felt his bones shift and pop as he grew about six inches. He looked over at his aunt, and she looked back in shock. “Auzy Suzy?! What just happened?!” She just stared in awe as her nephew continued to change. He held his longer arms out in front of his face as he watched his fingers grow. His hands tensed as his fingernails lengthened and grew manicured. Then, Greg watched in horror as a silver ring materialized around his ring finger.

“Aunt Suzy! Please, take your wish back! I don’t want to be a bride!” Suzy stood frozen as she realized what she’d done. Greg’s skin took on an olive tan as his clothes began to morph. His button-down shirt began to fuse with his khakis as they constricted around his changing body. The pant legs fused as they turned a pure white and began to sprout frills. The dress split open at the, giving him and his aunt a view of his changing legs. His thighs thickened as his calves grew toned. Greg watched in horror as his black dress shoes began to change into silver, open-faced high heels. He shot up another 4 inches in height as his heels extended. He grunted as the bones in his feet cracked and shifted themselves to fit his new shoes. His clothes finished their transformation into a flowing white gown as a variety of silver bracelets materialized around his wrists.

“Greg, I’m…I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” Suzy cried. Greg wanted to say something, but instead let out a soft moan as his genitals began to change. He put his hands over his crotch and tried to grab his dick. Without warning, he felt his member suddenly slip inside him, leaving behind a curiously warm clit. His boxers tightening and changing into silk panties tickled his new sex organ, sending alien feelings throughout his body. He groaned again as his hips expanded to childbearing proportions with a pop. His internal organs shifted around as a fertile new womb appeared within him. A flood of sensations suddenly assaulted his chest as his nipples began to grow. He reached up and grabbed his chest as globs of flesh began to fill his hands. He looked down at his growing cleavage as two beautiful breasts expanded and filled out the dress.

“Why…” Greg whimpered as he looked down at his nearly finished body. He coughed and grabbed his neck as his throat began to constrict. He gasped for and and inhaled deeply before exhaling, noticing that he sounded a lot more womanly now. “Please,” he cried in his new feminine voice, “I don’t want to marry my dad. Please stop this.”

“I don’t know how.” Suzy said. Greg felt another tingling coming from his earlobes as extravagant earrings appeared in his now pierced ears. He grabbed his head as he felt his hair begin to tumble down past his shoulders. Finally, his skull cracked and popped as his bone structure transformed into that of his dad’s fiance. As makeup applied itself to his face, Greg wanted to cry. He wanted to call for his dad, but as the thought of his father entered his head he suddenly found that he had new memories of his father. He remembered his father taking him on dates, buying him dinner, and proposing to him.

“NO!” Greg screamed, grabbing his head. “I don’t remember this things! I don’t want to be her!” Suddenly, the church organ began to play. As the music echoed in Greg’s head, it became harder to think back. Memories of hanging out after school slowly changed into memories of going on dates with all the jocks at school. His memories of shopping for video games turned into memories of her shopping for the perfect wedding dress. Greg tried thinking of his father again, only to think of how cute he was and how elated she was when he proposed to her.

“Please, help me - unf!” Greg moaned as he cut himself off. The church music continued to play as Greg’s eyes rolled into his head. Memories of passionate kisses in the rain began to entrench themselves into his mind. As he thought more about his father, he felt his nipples harden under the dress. As Greg gave fully in to Suzy’s wish, memories of sleepless nights with her fiance engulfed him.

Rose opened her eyes and stared at Suzy. “Oh my god! The day is finally here!” the new girl said with an excited tone. “I guess that music means it’s time for me to walk. I can’t wait to see my husband!” Suzy stared in shock as her former nephew twirled around in her dress and ran towards the church auditorium. As she watched the new woman walk down the aisle and passionately kiss her fiance, her former nephew’s own father, she shuddered at the thought of ever using the monkey’s paw again.  

2

Requested Imagine: Being the youngest Holmes sister and Sherlock calls you to meet him at a crime scene and when you show up he deduces that you’ve been on a date and Lestrade is jealous because he’s in love with you & Sherlock decides to get you two together because he and Mycroft are protective they want you to be happy and he trusts Greg. Anonymous
A/N I shortened it just a little, because it was a massive request for an imagine. But I hope you like it! x
Part 2

You’re a little annoyed with Sherlock at the moment as you sit in the taxi on your way to a crime scene. You had to cut the date short because Sherlock said it was urgent. Of course you’re even more annoyed when you realise he only asked you to come because he knew it would bother Mycroft. 

“You were on a date,” Sherlock suddenly says causing Greg to choke on the water he’s drinking. 

“No I wasn’t,” you vaguely respond knowing he’ll see right through you. Sometimes it’s agitating to be in a family full of ridiculously clever people. 

“Yes, you have. You’re wearing a dress, which you never wear. Also you’re wearing makeup along with your favourite perfume. Who was he?” Sherlock asks examining the body on the floor and you feel slightly uncomfortable. This isn’t place to talk about this. Also Greg looks like he might collapse soon. His face is turning completely red. 

“You alright?” you ask feeling a little nervous. For some reason you didn’t feel like Greg needed to know about your date. It wasn’t that successful anyway. Sherlock looks up at Greg and then at you. And you can just tell he’s adding things together in his head. 

“You two should go on a date,” he says and you widen your eyes in shock. 

“Greg wouldn’t go on a date with me, Sherlock. Don’t be silly,” you say half laughing while trying to avoid the rejection from Greg. 

“Why not? You are quite a catch, little sister,” Mycroft says entering the room. It must be a pretty important person lying on the floor when Sherlock, Mycroft and Greg are here. John must be home with Rosie. You know all your brothers want for you is to be happy, but you’re not prepared for a rejection from Greg. If you’re being completely honest with yourself then you’ve always had a crush on Greg but it was never the time so you pushed it away and told yourself to forget about it. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Greg says and your head snaps up as you stare at him. He looks really nervous.

“Can you give us a minute,” you say to your two brothers who quickly leave the room.

“Don’t you want to?” you ask preparing yourself. 

“Of course I want to. I’m just giving you a bloody out,” he replies and you gasp. He wants to go on a date with you. 

“If I told you I loved you, would it make any difference?” you ask softly. You can imagine how your brothers are trying to hear everything through the door. They must really approve of Greg since they let him take you on a date. 

“It would make a big difference,” Greg says stepping forwards and slipping his arms around you. For a second you forget where you are but then you remember the lady on the floor.

“This is probably not the best place for our first kiss.”

XX

darkangelonthemoon  asked:

Howdy. How about Stevonnie wedding day chaos?

I’m so bad at aging up characters lol. But this was a bit silly and a bit fun to write, so I hope you enjoy it!


“Steven?” Pearl banged on the door, her voice climbing in pitch with anxiety. “Steven, we have to go! We’re going to be late!”

“No one’s on time to a wedding, Pearl, chill,” Amethyst said. Pearl glared at her.

“Amethyst, I don’t think you’re taking this seriously enough. This is one of the most important days in Steven’s life and you’re not even dressed.” Amethyst rolled her eyes. She glowed purple for a moment and was abruptly wearing a purple and white suit.

“Happy now?” she asked, plucking at her cuffs and grinning. Pearl ignored her and pounded on the bathroom door again.

“Steven?” she called. “Are you almost—?” The door flew open.

“I’m ready,” Steven gasped. His bowtie was askew. Pearl reached out and adjusted it for him.

“Alright,” she said. “Greg is here with the van. Garnet and the rest are meeting us at the church.” She paused, her hands flat against Steven’s lapel, and tears brimmed in her eyes. “You look so handsome,” she said. “I can’t believe you’re already—” She pressed a hand against her mouth. Steven smiled.

“Pea-arl,” he groaned. “You don’t need to cry. I’m not going anywhere. Connie’s practically just as much a Crystal Gem as all the rest of us. We’ll still be going on missions with you guys, curing corrupted gems and all that stuff.” Pearl gave a watery smile.

“I know,” she said. A horn honked outside and she jumped. “Go, go, go,” she said, shoving at him. “Come on, Amethyst.”

*

Outside the elegant marble reception hall, Dr. Priyanka Maheswaran nervously checked her watch. “You don’t think they’re going to be late, do you?” she asked her husband. “It’s Steven’s wedding day, after all, you’d think he’d find punctuality important.” Doug laid a comforting hand on her arm.

“Don’t worry, dear,” he said. “It’s not like the ceremony will start without them.”

“Is Steven here yet?” Connie asked, hurrying up to them. She had the skirt of her wedding dress bunched up and slung over her arm so she could run more easily. Her feet were bare, her high heels dangling out of her free hand. Dr. Maheswaran yelped and pulled the skirt back down, smoothing it with her hands.

“Connie,” she scolded, “you’ll wrinkle it! And put your shoes on! You’re getting married.” Connie rolled her eyes.

“You cared about doing this in a white dress a whole lot more than I ever did, Mom,” she said, but she set the shoes on the ground and stepped into them. As she did, the door swung open, and all three Maheswarans straightened up, looking for Steven. Instead, Lars and Sadie walked through the door, followed by a number of gems. Connie squealed and ran forward.

“Lars!” she said, hugging him. “I haven’t seen you in forever. How’s the Big Donut these days?” He laughed, hugging her back.

“I only stop in occasionally. Rhodonite mostly runs it these days.” Rhodonite waved from behind him, her lower pair of arms pressing her hands together nervously.

“Human food is quite delicious,” she said. “And people always look so happy when they eat donuts.” Next to her waist, Padparadscha gasped.

“I predict Connie will look absolutely beautiful in her wedding dress!” she cried. Connie smiled.

“Thank you, Pad,” she said. She glanced over at her parents. Her mother had gone pale. Lars and Sadie stepped up. Sadie offered her hand.

“Hi,” she said, “I’m Sadie, and this is Lars. Behind us is Rhodonite, Padparadscha – but you can just call her Pad – the Rutile twins, and Fluorite.” Fluorite was having some trouble squeezing through the door, each segment of her body pulling laboriously through the doorframe. Dr. Maheswaran shook Sadie’s hand numbly. Her eyes went to Lars.

“Pink to meet you – I mean,” she said, flushing, “pleasure to meet you. Steven’s mentioned you before.” Lars blew at the curl of pink hair hanging down over his face, briefly revealing the long dark scar that ran across his eye.

“Pleasure to meet you too,” he said. “Steven’s our friend because we used to sell him donuts.”

“Steven’s our friend because Steven’s friends with everyone,” Sadie said. That, at least, drew a faint groaning attempt at a laugh from Dr. Maheswaran.

“Hey, Mom, why don’t you go check that Garnet and Lapis and Peridot found their seats okay?” Connie asked forcefully. Her mother nodded and walked stiffly into the hall. Connie smiled apologetically at Lars. “She’s still a bit… unfamiliar with all the gem stuff,” she said. Lars shrugged.

“I get stares a lot. I’m used to it.” Sadie whacked his arm.

“Don’t be rude,” she said. She beamed at Connie. “You look so gorgeous,” she said. “We’re so happy for you and Steven.” Connie blushed. She felt like she’d done that more today than she had her entire life.

“Aw, thanks Sadie,” she said. She gestured toward the door into the hall. “We’ve got a space set up for Fluorite and everything in there. Just ask Jenny, she’ll show you where to go.” Lars tipped her a mock salute.

“Thanks,” he said.

“I predict Connie’s mother will think all of us are very strange beings,” Padparadscha announced.

“Come along, now, Pad,” Fluorite said, her deep gentle voice rumbling in the echoes of the hall. “Let’s find our seats.”

*

There had been a lengthy debate about who should conduct the actual ceremony of the wedding. Gems didn’t have weddings and Greg solidly opted out, saying he’d spend the entire time crying. None of the Maheswaran family friends were people Steven or Connie felt particularly close to.

Pearl’s girlfriend Shannon volunteering had been a bit of a surprise, but Steven and Connie had both looked at each other, shrugged, and agreed she was a fine option. She was dressed in a flowing pink dress for the occasion, her matching hair braided down her head. She didn’t have to do that much: Steven and Connie had written their own vows. Lion brought their rings on a cushion. Their eyes met as Connie slid a ring onto Steven’s finger and they both grinned. Steven felt his gem glowing softly.

“Don’t fuse yet,” Connie scolded under her breath. “Mom will never forgive me.”

“I know,” Steven chuckled. “For the party, though.”

“Definitely for the party,” Connie agreed.

*

The beach was bursting with light and color. Greg had been cajoled into bringing out his guitar and playing some live music before they turned it over to Sour Cream to DJ. Lapis had stood hesitantly at the edge until Steven grabbed her hand and pulled her into the crowd to dance. Peridot kept tripping over her own feet, but with great enthusiasm. Lars hesitantly took Sadie’s hand and they swayed slowly together in a corner. Humans and gems whirled.

Gems dancing proved to be chaos as they fused and unfused with abandon. One moment Opal leapt above the crowd, the next Amethyst was alone, popping and locking to the beat as Pearl spun into Garnet’s arms, and suddenly Sardonyx appeared, chuckling loudly. Fluorite, smiling gently, suddenly came apart into three separate fusions. Steven paused, staring wide-eyed as they dispersed into the crowd and grabbed partners, laughing giddily.

Steven grabbed Connie’s hand and they spun and spun until there was only one pair of feet in the sand. Stevonnie laughed, their hair loose around their shoulders, a shortened white skirt flowing down from the white shirt and pink bowtie. They kicked off their shoes and ran barefoot across the sand, hiking their skirt up to splash through the shallow waves at the edge of the water. They dropped to sit in the sand, staring across the waves.

“I’ve never been happier,” they said, their face flushed, sand squishing between their toes.

“That makes two of us,” they responded to themselves, and they laughed. “Two in one, forever and ever.”

Send me prompts!

anonymous asked:

Could you do a sexy combo between 16, 18 en 29 (dont worry no alien smut ;)) -LF

16. Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?
18. I can’t believe you two just had sex on my chair
29. “Shut up” “Make me”

A/N: Aha…alien smut has got to be the weirdest greatest thing I’ve ever written

————————

The door of 221 harshly shut making you jump as you sat by the table reading the paper in the kitchen. Greg walked in huffing and puffing, but he was pleasantly surprised when he saw you “Where’s your brother?” He asked.

“Out with John” you glanced up to him before returning to the article you were reading “He said you would pop by and told me to say ‘Not the gardener’ whatever that means…” You trailed off and continued reading.

“Right,” Greg muttered out “I was hoping he would be still here”.

You let out a scoff “And here I was thinking that you came to see me” you placed down the paper and looked up to Greg with a sultry smile.

You notice the DI gulp and his hands fell to his side in shock. You stood up and walked over to him “Tell me detective inspector,” you lowered your voice, sending shivers down Greg’s spine “Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

Greg let out a shaky breath and looked into your eyes that were beginning to darken with lust. He knew he couldn’t take this further, you were Sherlock’s sister for crying out loud. “Shut up” he playfully warned.

You bit your lip and moved your face closer to his while pressing your body against Greg’s. “Make me” you breathed out and temptation got the better of Greg and he picked you up by the thighs with a growl. He roughly kissed you and you couldn’t help out let out a moan.

He placed you down and you stammered back a little, dizzy from the kiss and lack of oxygen reaching your head. Greg lunged towards you again and you giggled in his arms as he impatiently tore off your top and undid your bra tossing it away before dragging you to the bedroom.

“Do you have to go so soon?” You asked almost longingly in an attempt to get him to stay.

Greg smiled and fixed himself as he left your room, you were hot on his heels tying your dressing gown around you “Yes, unfortunately I do.” He held your face with both hands “But I’ll see you later” he gently kissed you and you nodded.

You walked out to him to the door before stopping dead in your tracks. “Oh god” you muttered out seeing a very unimpressed Sherlock and John sitting there.

Sherlock looked up to the pair of you, glaring at Greg “I believe this is yours…” he gritted out.

You pushed Greg out the door and shamefully walked over to Sherlock, whisking the bra that he was holding by the strap. “Sorry” you uttered and rushed back to your room.

Sherlock let out a sigh and turned to John “I really don’t know what she sees in Giles”.

“Greg,” John corrected him with a huff “It’s Greg”.

For the Night; Greg Lestrade x Reader

Requested by dryizzle: Could you write a Lestrade one where the reader stays the night at Lestrade’s for the first time, and at first it’s awkward because he asks her too, but then it’s okay. It’s innocent (so none of doing the dirty) but still some fluff that makes your heart melt. Also, can you write in where the reader wears one of his t shirts to bed? I’m a sucker for that…

I don’t think I delivered on the heart melting… Please send in some feedback!

Keep reading

Greg’s Universes- Chapter 1

(NOTE: This story is an AU, set before the events of the recent Stevenbomb. Also, Tom references @plainolddope‘s OC, Greg’s twin brother. It is his fault that this story exists in the first place so go blame him ;p )

4,403 words

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Sam’s Old Shirt

Pairing: SamxReader
Word count: 938

Part 3 of When Did We Get a Kid?


Walking in the door, you had to stop yourself from slamming it. Your date had been one of the worst ones you had ever had. Including high school. Dropping your purse off on the little table right inside the door, you groaned. Greg was a great guy at work. Always polite, never too nosy, and did his work on time. Not only was he only like that professionally, but the man didn’t know how to dress.

That doesn’t sound good.” You heard Sam say from the living room. Turning the corner, you sighed. He was on the far end of the couch, remote in hand. Not even bothering to change, you simply walked over to the couch and flopped down. Laying on your stomach, your head was resting on his lap. “Wanna talk about it?” He pulled the clip from your hair and set it aside. A moment later you felt his fingers running through your hair. You had even put effort into your look. Nothing over the top, it was just coffee. You’d picked out a peach skirt that went to your knees, a white fitted t-shirt, and a pair of cute flats. Seemed you wasted your time. That wasn’t including fighting with your hair clip.

You groaned. “No offense, but men are idiots.” You half teased.

Sam chuckled. “None taken.” He knew that you didn’t include him in that, and he also knew that some men were complete idiots. “What happened?”

Keep reading

  • *a crime scene*
  • Greg: *shaking his head* This is wrong.
  • John: *shrugs* I know but what can we do?
  • Baby Holmes: *trots past, waving Sherlock's magnifying glass; giggling madly*
  • Sherlock: *following; rambling about soil samples*
  • Greg: *rubs the back of his neck* Molly's going to kill him.
  • John: *nods* She's knows what she got into, though.
  • Baby Holmes: *points at the corpse* Deaded!
  • Sherlock: *beaming with pride, scoops her up and gives her a big kiss* That's my clever girl!
  • Greg: *sighs* He's not even sorry, is he?
  • John: Nope.
  • Sherlock: *approaching, his daughter now strapped to his chest; proud af* She found the blood, the weapon and the missing wallet. My little detective. Brilliant, isn't she?
  • Greg & John: *exchange glances*
The Name's Lestrade, Greg Lestrade.

Warnings: None?

A/N: I hope you guys are enjoying this series so far! Things in this chapter take an interesting turn and as always I’d love to know what you all think of it! Have a great week!

—————————
Chapter 2
—————

“My flight landed in Monaco, Mycroft. I’ll keep you updated” Greg silently thanked a private chauffeur as he handed him his luggage outside a hotel.

“Alright, I’ll also keep you posted, Lestrade. I’ve had reports telling me that our suspect has been seen around Monte Carlo the past few days. Surveillance footage shows he hasn’t boarded a flight and hasn’t got a train to leave the vicinity.” Mycroft played with a pen between his fingers while on the phone, staring at a photo of him and you.

“Okay Mycroft I’ll-”

Mycroft cut Greg off “Y/N’s in France, Paris to be exact. She’s shopping.”

“Well I-”

“She says she’s shopping for a wedding dress…” Mycroft said as if it was nothing. He could hear Greg let out a small huff under his breath.

The spy tossed down his bags into the hotel room overlooking the sea “I have to go Mycroft, but I’ll keep you posted”. Greg hung up and tossed his phone on the bed before tossing himself on it. As a friend, he knew he should have told Mycroft what you said to him the other week at the party wearing that dastardly dress that had distracted him since then.

Then again, Greg didn’t have friends, he had allies.

His phone buzzed with a text of a picture, it was the man he was looking for at the underground subway dressed in a sharp suit. Greg quickly rushed down to the station under the streets of Monaco finding himself on a platform with the suspect and three other people scattered about in the middle. Greg discreetly kept his attention on the smartly dressed suspect before a rush of cool air swept though the tunnel as the subway car approached the platform. Most people got off and Greg mirrored the suspects movements as he got into the train at the same time as him, a woman who was also standing on the platform got on the car too.

The doors shut and Greg stood, holding onto the bar above him. His eyes glancing to the man who was seated with his head in a paper. The sub stopped at the next stop and everyone-apart from Greg, the man and the woman who had got on with them-left.

“Well,” the man spoke up, still reading the paper “Which one of us is going to shoot first?”

As soon as the man finished talking he swerved off the seat and crouched down behind the plastic chair as did Greg and the woman he had saw. He narrowed his eyes when he saw a flash of hair that was a different colour…a wig.

Then it started to sink in that you had that hair colour and Greg started to see the recognisable outline of your face.

It was you.

Greg lost all focus. Did Mycroft know you were here? More importantly why where you here?

“Y/N?!” He called out and started shooting back at the man “What the bloody hell-” he was cut off when the sub jolted and the three of you were tossed around. You glanced up and noticed a bullet hole in the metal, directly aiming for the subway drivers head. You watched as the man smirked and opened the doors, jumping off at the third last station.

“We have to get off, now!” You screamed and pulled Greg up who was still bewildered.

The sub began to speed up and you let out a annoyed growl passing the second last station “We’re going to have to jump…” You told him grabbing his hand so tight it was turning it bright white. “There’s a station coming up in five…four…”

Greg went wide eyed “Wha-”

“Three…two…jump!” You screamed and dragged Greg out with you, crashing against the cold tiles. You let out a pained groan and clutched on to your now bruising arms. You readjusted your wig and cursed at Greg under your breath who was still lying down coughing up a lung by the sounds of things. You dragged him behind a pillar and used it to protect both of you from the blast of the crashing subway car.

You noticed him drifting in and out of consciousness. Pressing your fingers against the side of his throat, you checked for his pulse before deciding that he’d be alright on his own when he eventually came to.

Half and hour later Greg woke up hearing sirens, a paramedic asked him in French if he was alright but he stood up and waved them off. He needed to find you and he needed answers.

He cleaned himself up back at the hotel before walking along the seafront with every intention of finding you.

He saw you sitting at a cafe, looking completely unscathed, being served a glass of wine by the coast just as the sea began to drag the sun towards it. Greg stormed over and you quickly grabbed onto his forearm before he could grab your wrist “Don’t touch me. Sit down at the table behind me if you want to talk,” you ordered and Greg raised a brow at you and that slightly unconvincing wig, before slowly sitting down in the chair behind you and facing his back to yours.

“Why are you here?” He asked in a quiet, snappish tone.

You avoided his question and lit a cigarette “Do you want a drink?”

“Y/N…” He warned.

“They have a nineteen nighty eight scotch-”

Greg cut you off, banging his fist off the table with irritation, getting a few odd glances from people around him “Tell me or I’ll be phoning Mycroft”.

“Ohh I’m so scared…” You sarcastically trailed off before blowing out a puff of smoke and taking a sip of wine “But I wouldn’t if I were you, if you know what’s good for you”.

“Then tell me why you’re here,” Greg asked before adding a pitiful “Please.”

“Are you begging Mr Lestrade?” Your smile spread from ear to ear. He didn’t reply and you let out a small sigh as your eyes gazed at the sea “You jeopardised my chance…” You gripped onto the stem of your wine glass so tight you thought it was going to snap “Two years of communication, wasted because of you!” You gritted out.

Greg’s eyes narrowed “What are you talking about?”

“I can’t tell you here, too many eyes and ears about,” you discreetly passed him a key card and a slip of paper “See me later, around eight. The dock is just over there, there will be a boat waiting”.

Greg took the items from your fingers “Where am I going?” He asked, tucking away the keycard and piece of paper.

You stood up and left money on the table for your drink “My hotel of course.”

———————
Tags: (Let me know if you’d like to be tagged/Untagged)

@adorablebadger @damnitman-jamlocked-inthetardis @princesspeach212 @holmes-maev @rikkachloechan @daynaan @lock-sherlock @katie27hp @wcsteland @theyre-my-divsion @chrissydarlingwrites @gotham-s-lover @ccorpuz1214 @laterthantherabbit @cutie1365

‘Meow’ Chapter 20 (Epilogue): a Happy Beginning

thank y'all so much for reading and reviewing! I am so happy that you went on this journey with me!


5 years later

“John, I said I don’t leave the flat for anything under a seven,” Sherlock stated as they walked into 221B. Mary Watson sat on John’s chair with Rosie in her arms.

“You two bicker more like an old married couple than you do with me or Molly,” Mary laughed.

“Where is Molly?” Sherlock asked.

“Bath,” Mary replied. John walked over and gave his wife a kiss on the cheek as Sherlock stalked off to the bathroom.

“Molly?” Sherlock called to her. “Are you alright?”

“Hm? Yea, just trying to calm the pain,” Molly told him. She was covered in bubbles from the bath. He sat on the floor beside the tub and she leaned her head over the side to kiss him.

“Mm, I love you,” Sherlock murmured against her lips.

“I love you t—,” she gasped in pain as the next contraction hit her.

“Hospital? It’s time?” Sherlock asked frantically. Molly only nodded her head in confirmation. “Okay, come here, I’ve got you.” He helped her out of the tub and gathered everything they needed as she dressed herself.

“Sherlock? Got an eight for ya,” Greg Lestrade announced from the doorway.

“Not now, it’s going to have to wait,” he replied as he rushed into the bedroom.

“Is it time?” John called out.

“Yes!” was all Sherlock exclaimed. Mary’s face lit up.

“Look at that, Rosie,” she said. “Aunt Molly’s about to have her and Uncle Sherlock’s baby!”

“Sherlock Holmes, what is all the ruckus about?” Mrs. Hudson asked as she entered 221B. The consulting detective held onto his wife, all the necessities ready to go. Realization dawned on Mrs. Hudson’s face. Toby mewled at Molly’s feet. Another contraction hit and Sherlock did his best to comfort her as he led her toward the doorway.

“Toby not now,” she spoke through gritted teeth. “And to think all of this happened because I just had to sneak my cat onto campus.” The room burst into laughter. Sherlock safely guided her downstairs and hailed a cab with John, Mary and Rosie following in another.

Keep reading

non-exhaustive list of underrated SU jokes that i love/moments that maybe aren’t strictly jokes that crack me up, in vaguely chronological order:

  • “Well what’s that thing you always say about the pork chops and the hot dogs :)” “I LIVE IN THERE”
  • amethyst getting stuck in that block of ice(?) and pearl immediately, with no questioning of the best course of action whatsoever, trying to chip her out bit by bit with her spear while screaming at the top of her lungs
  • “it’s a 3-hour paddle home.”
  • “There is no foot!” *w/ grim determination* “Not anymore.”
  • Steven Jr. just gnawing on Pearl’s arm
  • “oh…nothin’…just moppin’…DIE!”
  • speaking of which, the end of Steven the Swordfighter like just the absolute happy chaos of it Steven running around shouting with his shirt tied around his head Amethyst floating on the ceiling Pearl questioning whether two weeks was too much vacation time or not enough
  • “you know………between the four of us……….we could have had a whole pizza.”
  • The effing music while Garnet narrates all the ways Steven could potentially die
  • Greg dressing like an Elvis impersonator to take Connie home/“I won’t lie. That is the best outfit I have ever seen.”
  • When Greg is surprised Steven brought Amethyst to help with the mess in maximum capacity and he says “No way am I letting Pearl see this” and it’s ambiguous whether his meaning is “does she not judge you enough dad” or “if there’s one thing I’ve learned this month it’s ‘do not play fast and loose with Pearl’s nerves’“
  • Amethyst and Garnet in the background trying to move that giant axe in the door in “Rose’s Scabbard”
  • “We can’t fight these things forever. Well we can but I don’t want to.”
  • *pausing mid-rant* “This chair is disgusting.”
  • Ronaldo in “Rising Tides/Crashing Skies” losing his shit at the door while Garnet just stands there silently judging his whole life
  • “Amethyst give us some privacy!” just…the combination of how it’s like a very reasonable request as you would make of a fellow adult but also
  • “Y’know how it is…kids” Amethyst he’s lived with you for maybe a year
  • “““““““““subjective”““““““““““

The name’s Lestrade, Greg Lestrade.

Warnings: None.

A/N: Bit of a filler chapter this week! 😁 as always feedback is appreciated! Have a great week!


—————————
Chapter 6
—————

Greg’s eyes flickered open and he groaned in agony. He felt like his head had been hit full force with a car. He tried to move but felt himself tied in place on a chair in the middle of a elaborately decorated bedroom.

“Oh you’re awake!” You came out of the bathroom with your hair wrapped in a towel wearing the same dressing gown you had on in Monaco. “How’s the head?”

“Why am I tied up?!” Greg exasperatingly tried to free himself but the struggling only made it worse.

You shrugged, nonchalantly and walked to the mini bar in your room grabbing a bottle of water “I’m really into BDSM…” You joked and took a gulp of water. Greg narrowed his eyes and you placed the bottle in your hand to his mouth “Want some?”

“No I want untied! And I want some bloody information and answers!”

You sighed and pulled over a chair, placing it directly across from him and sat down, gently bumping your knees against his “I accept two methods of payment for my service of dispensing information.”

“Wh-what? You want me to give you something because you are telling me information?” Greg asked, baffled.

You scoffed and leaned back in your seat “Of course! I gave you information the first time for free. The first time is always free, after that it will cost you.”

Greg narrowed his eyes and let out a tired groan “Fine! Fine! As long as I get some facts! What do you want?”

“My two methods of payment are either presents or pleasure…” You trailed off with a smirk and Greg involuntary gulped at your tone.

He blinked rapidly while his words left his mouth slowly, “Define presents…”

You shrugged and pursed your lips “The usual really money, jewellery…secrets…” You whispered the last part with a chilling smirk and widening eyes that had a twinkle of playfulness in them.

“And pleasure?” Greg asked finding confidence in his voice again.

You rolled your eyes and folded your arms “I think that’s pretty self explanatory.”

Greg could help but bite down on his lip “Alright then, it’s a deal. I’d shake your hand but-”

“Wonderful!” You chirped and crossed your legs “I was like you, Lestrade, a spy. Specifically in the secret service but I was sent ‘here and there’ too.
Mycroft didn’t stop an air strike that went wrong. My family died and naturally he was a shoulder to cry on at the time. I found out from various sources that he didn’t stop it, but he had the power to. I was enraged.” Greg shifted at the sudden change in your voice and demeanour “I never told him that I found out, instead I let him fall for me and propose to me and soon I’ll throw his world into chaos, just like he did with mine.” You paused to catch your breath, Greg was hanging on to every word. “I found out so much, he’s a despicable person. The scum of the earth! Everything he does is for himself!”

Greg found everything you said hard to believe, he knew Mycroft or at least he <i>thought</I> he did. You noticed it in his eyes, the disbelief “You trust him.” You confirmed “You shouldn’t. He’s corrupt, he’s destroying everything that you stand for and have worked for. He sells state secrets. I know because he talks in his sleep, a part of him feels guilty. He is also planning to bring down 007. I bet you didn’t know that.”

Greg scoffed at that, there was no way Mycroft would do that “I don’t believe you!”

“Believe what you want Greg but I’ll be getting that memory stick with the coordinates in that book Jim gave me and I’ll prove to you that I’m correct,” you uncrossed your legs and bent over, Greg went wide eyed catching sight of your cleavage. He wouldn’t take his eyes off it. “My eyes are up here,” you muttered out and Greg’s gaze returned to looking directly at you.

“Fine Y/N. If you’re right, which you aren’t you’re deluded, I’ll help you. If you’re wrong I get to arrest you. I’m coming with you to find this memory stick.”

You pondered for a moment before agreeing to his terms “So,” Greg begun, licking his lips slightly “Your payment of 'pleasure’ I can give you that right now…” he purred and you sent him a deadpanned look.

“The payment of pleasure will come from me proving that I’m right and that you’re wrong.” You stood up with a proud smirk “That will be the greatest pleasure of all.”

Greg’s mouth gaped open and he was in between commending you and cursing you for being so cunning. He watched you walk out to the balcony and gaze out over the horizon, he then look down at himself.

“Can I be untied now?”

———————
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We Were Legends

a retirement!lock songfic based off of Kelsea Ballerini’s song, Legends! Give it a listen! (x)


Yeah, we wrote our own story full of blood, sweat and heartbeats. We didn’t do it for the fame or the glory but we went down in history.

               Molly was looking through the various photo albums spread out on the counter when her husband of twenty years appeared with his arms wrapped around her from behind.

               “How are the bees?” she asked.

               “Performing brilliantly,” Sherlock replied. He leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek and settled his head on her shoulder. “What’s all this about?”

               “Just reminiscing,” Molly answered, running her dainty fingers over the photos of them taken during Rosie’s christening. They were so young then. Greg, who had snapped the photos, told them they bickered like they were married. At that time, they never thought they would’ve wed only months later after the Sherrinford incident opened up the new path for them.

               “Mm, you look so beautiful in your wedding dress,” he murmured against her neck where his lips were now trailing across. “And you’re still so gorgeous.” The wedding photos were among Molly’s favourites. There were photos of their dear friends and family, all celebrating their love. It was during their first dance that Molly had told him she was pregnant.

               “You were so thrilled about becoming a father,” Molly remembered.

               “It was the best wedding gift I could’ve asked for,” he told her.


Yeah, we were legends. Loving you baby, it was heaven. What everyone wondered we never questioned. Closed our eyes and took on the world together. Do you remember?

There were newspaper clippings of when Molly herself ended up in the limelight when the press found out about their relationship. It had died down a bit after the wedding until her belly began to swell quite noticeably with their unborn daughter. That started a whole slew of gossip. Some had said it was just a publicity gimmick but most were in full support. The meaner remarks never affected Molly, as she and Sherlock knew the truth of their love and that’s all that mattered.

“Remember this?” she smiled. It was a photo of their first Halloween with their daughter, Charlotte. Molly had thought it would be funny to put the deerstalker on her head. In the photo, Charlotte was seated in Sherlock’s lap who was actually laughing about the fact the hat kept covering half of her face. Her frustration grew quickly, just as short tempered as her father. She was quite the feisty little girl and still was as a grown woman now.

“Don’t forget about that Christmas,” Sherlock chuckled. The photo was of the two of them snogging beneath the mistletoe in 221B. Well, one of the many hanging plants. At the time, their children, Charlotte and Victor, were ten and eight years old. Unlike most kids, they didn’t get grossed out by their parents showing affection. So, they hung mistletoe in every possible place they could that December to give their parents a Christmas gift of their own. Molly and Sherlock had definitely played with their children’s plan like a game, teasing and prodding at each other playfully.

“That was a fun time,” Molly agreed. On that Christmas night that year, they were at Sherlock’s parents’ home and making snow angels together as a family. The children saw a shooting star for the first time. Molly had told them to make a wish, in which Charlotte had voiced hers.

“Mummy, I wish for a love like yours and daddy’s one day.”

It was to that, Victor agreed. It still warmed the hearts of the now elderly Sherlock and Molly.

Keep reading

#mollyhadthenightwatch 😔
  • : : *IGNORES SERIES FOUR SUPER HARD...EXCEPT THIS ONCE. MILD SPOILERS FOR THE LYING DETECTIVE*
  • *221B*
  • Sherlock & Molly: *sitting opposite each other*
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Molly: ...
  • Sherlock: *reaches for his phone*
  • Molly: *sits up*
  • Sherlock: *rolls his eyes* Relax. I'm ordering takeaway.
  • Molly: *frowns*
  • Sherlock: *smiles* For two.
  • Molly: *folds her arms*
  • Sherlock: *sighs; hands over his phone*
  • Molly: *stuffs it in her bra* I'm ordering *goes to the laptop*
  • Sherlock: ...
  • AN HOUR LATER
  • Molly: *eating chips*
  • Sherlock: *staring at her*
  • Molly: What?
  • Sherlock: You answered the door like that?
  • Molly: *confused* Like what?
  • Sherlock: *shakes his head* Nevermind. I could snap you in half.
  • Molly: *raises her eyebrows* Excuse-
  • Sherlock: *annoyed* If I wanted to, Molly. I could easily overpower you. What makes you think you stand a chance?
  • Molly: *giggles* Try me.
  • FIVE MINUTES LATER
  • Molly: *pinning Sherlock to the ground; smug* Satisfied?
  • Sherlock: *his face pressed into the floor* You're deceptively strong.
  • Molly: *stands up; smiling* And don't you forget it.
  • Sherlock: *jumps up; brushing himself down* By the way, that was arousing.
  • Molly: *gives him the look*
  • Sherlock: *sits down* Sorry.