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Do you know that poem?” John asks him. “’Do not go gentle into that good night’?”

Sherlock closes his eyes, briefly. Imprints the image in front of him into his synapses: John, smiling. John, tender. John, old; John, young; John, in-between. John. Just that. John.

“Yes,” he says.

“’Rage, rage, against the dying of the light’?”

“I know it.”

John takes his hands between his own. The texture of his skin is pressed against Sherlock’s once more. For the last time. Calloused at the fingertips, soft in the middle. A metaphor, in that, Sherlock thinks. The wedding band that has been there so many times cold, but always clean, shining, and warmed by the both of them now.

“Let’s go gently,” John says.

—  Teatrolley, The cosmology of you and me

There had been a moment. A swift, sudden, terrifying moment. Sherlock and John didn’t speak of it, and John was pretty sure that Sherlock had absolutely no recollection of the event because when John had casually mentioned it the following morning as a joke, there had been no reaction. John remembered them stumbling up the stairs and into the flat, Sherlock bustling around the kitchen preparing yet more drinks. When he appeared again in the door from the kitchen to the sitting room, John recalled the way he had felt- awed. Sherlock’s curls were disheveled from his bar fight, and his cheeks had a high and rosy blush from drinking so much alcohol. He wore a look of dopey happiness and he swayed slightly to and fro like he was standing on the deck of a boat. He was so beautiful when he looked stupid. Striding across the room in his long coat, he had kneeled down next to John, handed him his drink, and kissed him. For a full eight seconds. Surprised and embarrassed, John had tried to recover but there was no use. The damage had been done. As unpredictable as a lightning storm, Sherlock had giggled, wiped his mouth and sat down in his chair like nothing was wrong. And they had gotten on drinking so heavily after that that neither of them thought about it at all.

That is, until a few months after, when John had been thinking the night over, and the view of Sherlock’s gently closed eyes and long, sloping nose had suddenly flashed through his thoughts.

—  paminapickett, The Unexpected Deduction
pikachu briefs and questionable life choices

author: btsmemehoes

length: oneshot

word count: 1307

rating: Not Rated

author’s summary:

“we were both at this party and you were the designated driver but i was too drunk to give you my address so i woke up in your bed and commented on how you were way out of my league before realizing we didnt sleep together” au

or the one where min yoongi questions every single one of his life choices

read it on ao3

don’t forget to leave kudos & comments on the work!

because you're you

author: bullwolf

length: twoshot

word count: 10,149

rating: Not Rated

author’s summary:

By the time Yoongi turns 16, he’s well-versed in how to survive public school. He sits in the back and keeps his head down, keeps silent, and spends his classes doodling into the pages of his notebooks.

Basically a fic in which Yoongi pretends he doesn’t exist, and Jimin shows him that he should.

read it on ao3

don’t forget to leave kudos & comments on the work!