i never understood before

I never used to read sad love quotes before you came along.
I never understood them. I was always the type of person who figured that if something doesn’t work out – you move on… Why sit around being miserable because one person left your life when you can quite easily go out and find someone else?
But I get it now.
I understand it in the most terrible way.
I now know why people write sad love quotes… why they obsess over the past… why they can’t let go… why pain follows them like a stray dog for years afterwards…
It’s because you know the person you lost isn’t replaceable. There’s no one else like them… there never was before and there never will be again. That’s why they’re called the love of your life… because you only get to meet someone like that once in a lifetime.
That’s why people write sad love quotes.
They’ve just lost the most amazing person they’ve ever met… how can you possibly get over something like that?
They say that almost is the saddest word in the English dictionary. I never really understood why. That was of course before I met you. Before we almost were a thing, before we almost were in love. You know? Like we almost made it but something fucked up or we fucked up somewhere along the road and suddenly the rest of our journey wasn’t all laughter and love, suddenly the things we used to love about each other became burdens in our busy life style and eventually we gave up. We almost got there, but we never did, and that’s a hard reality to swallow.
—  Excerpt of a book I’ll never write

I rewatched The Avengers today and I finally realized why Steve is such an ass. I can’t believe I never understood before. 

Steve literally crashed a plane into a glacier over the Tesseract. He lost his best friend and the opportunity to be with the love of his life over the Tesseract. Of course he’s pissed off and unwilling to help when Fury comes to bother him about the fucking Tesseract.  

This is the same fight he fought during WWII. It’s the fight they told him he won when they defrosted him. Of course he’s mad. Probably betrayed and frustrated, too.  

I was always disappointed in The Avengers for depicting Steve this way and now I’m embarrassed because I never understood the reasoning behind it. I’ve seen the light.

You all need to know

Hey folks, I hope you’re doing well! Today 30th April is my bday and I wanted to share some important thoughts with you all. Things I want you to know. Feel free to skip this tho, I’m just being grateful and deeply sincere here <3

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This may just be my inner bi speaking, but how are most people not attracted to an ENTIRE gender??? Like, that’s almost HALF THE POPULATION and you don’t find a SINGLE ONE of them attractive??? How???????? They’re all so different and not even ONE???????? What is this strange witchcraft???

Right in Front of Your Eyes - Part 1

Originally posted by philipshea

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, all the feelings
Summary: After your parents were murdered mysteriously, you move in with your godfather Tony Stark, along the way your normal life will be turned upside down, due to a Mr Parker and being hit by a bus. It will all make sense eventually.
A/N: Basically, you are Jessica Drew but with your name and a slight twist. BTW you’re British, you’re welcome 😉
Word Count: 1300+

Intro |

What I’ve realised when living in America is to not eat a hot dog from a cart, not until you are used to the food, otherwise, you get food poisoning and you miss the start of the year high school party. Now I’m not usually a party person, far from that in fact, I’d rather stay at home binge watching 13 Reasons Why or Dear White People, however, I knew that this party would’ve been different. You see, at this party, I’d be classified as a ‘new girl’, because surprise surprise, I’m new. I needed to get a reputation, one that screamed ‘STAY THE FUCK AWAY’. Now as I said before, I would’ve gone to said party if I wasn’t currently throwing up a bad hot dog, whilst Natasha was holding my hair back.

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Hazel Eyes

Sam Drabble

646 Words

A/N: @idreamofhazel asked me last night to talk about Sam’s eyes, and here’s what I dreamed up in bed…

Originally posted by weallneedcastiel

Hazel eyes. I never understood the meaning before. How could eyes be both brown and green at the same time? How could two colors exist together within the same tiny space? It never made sense to me. Not until I met him.

So maybe they weren’t the first thing I noticed about Sam Winchester. I mean, let’s be honest, the first thing anyone notices about Sam is his immense height. I’m tall myself, but standing next to Sam is almost frightening, especially when he is angry. His height, his powerful arms, and expressive face surely scare off anyone, or anything, that dare challenge him. But once you get past the initial shock of his long frame, you start to notice other things.

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Imagine your wedding with Chris.

A/N: Here we go, here’s the finale. :D Thank you so much for showing all your love and support for this mini-series, I’ll be sure to inform you if I decide to write more for it. You can read the previous parts here: Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/Part 4. This will be all added to my Masterlist but I’ll also be making one solely for this mini-series. I’m done yapping, enjoy. X

It was fifteen minutes till the wedding. Your wedding. You were in your beautiful wedding dress, a custom-made one by the designer you loved; Ellie Saab. You looked absolutely stunning, thanks to your talented prep team. You looked perfect and you were marrying the man of your dreams, so why could you still feel yourself on the verge of having a panic attack?

You forced yourself to breathe in and out as slowly as you could manage so you didn’t start to hyperventilate. It didn’t work, so you started to pace in your wedding dress; it wasn’t the best idea. Your best friend was too busy packing your honeymoon luggage, and your mother was too preoccupied with your flower girls- your niece and Chris’- to notice how badly you were trying not to freak out. You shook your head and mumbled to yourself, “I need some air.”

You were about to walk out the back door of your room and into the garden when you heard your brother’s voice enter. You turned to him and swallowed, shaking your head when he asked “you ready, kid?” His eyes narrowed in concern, like your mom’s and Luca’s; you had both their attention now.

“I um-” You shook your head again. “I’m not- I’m- um- I’m having a bit of a panic attack,” you let out a breathless chuckle that held limited humor. “I need some air, I need some air. Luca, get me some air,” you demanded as your hand wrapped around your amethyst clover necklace; you needed all the luck you could get.

“Hey hey.” Luca rushed to your side and put an arm around you. With the other, she grabbed your wrists; it was her ‘keep-Y/N-on-her-feet’ position. “You are fine, Y/N. It’s just nerves, you need to breathe. In and out, babe. In and out,” she instructed in a soothing tone.

“Outside,” you told her. “Take me outside.”

“Okay,” she obliged and steered you towards the patio exit, “let’s go.”

• • • • • • • •

The two of you stood in the garden, the fresh air and the chirping birds did well to calm you. You fiddled with your necklace then your engagement ring, smiling to yourself in reminiscent of how Chris proposed. You were sure about marrying him, you’d been sure about him long before marriage was even an idea. You knew your nerves had nothing to do with him, it was- well, you wished you knew.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Luca asked you; you tore your gaze from your beautiful ring and turned to her. “You and I both know this isn’t about Chris, so what’s the problem?” She asked, titling her head in concern and confusion.

“I don’t know,” you shook your head. “I mean- I guess…At every wedding, there’s a chance of something bad happening. I don’t want anything bad to happen at ours,” you told her. “I just- what if I trip walking down the aisle or the food isn’t good or the band is horrendous and no one dances?” You rambled your irrational fears. “What if the paparazzi and reporters crash the party and ruins the day that- I’ve been trying for the last nine months to perfect? This is our wedding day, Luca. We only get one and it needs to be perfect,” you asserted.

“Y/N,” Luca chuckled softly; like Chris, she was used to your chronic overthinking and perfectionist ways. “You are about to marry the love of your life. Even if everything at your wedding goes wrong, you’re still going to leave it as Mrs. Y/N Evans. That is what’s important here, Chris- he is what’s important here. He loves you and he could not care less what happens as long as you say ‘I do’ at the alter. You could trip walking down the aisle and he will gladly pick you up and dust you off and marry you anyway because he loves you.”

“I know,” you managed a smile as your eyes welled with tears. “I’m just- I’m a bit of a perfectionist.”

“Tell me about it.” You heard Chris’ voice and flinched. You turned around and felt your lips part in awe at how handsome he looked in his black, custom-made suit from Versace. He watched you with a similar look, silently thanking the universe for you. “You look beautiful,” he breathed with a sickly sweet smile.

You looked down at yourself and smiled, then gasped when you realized your groom was seeing you before the wedding in your wedding dress and that was bad luck. “Oh my God, Chris. What are you doing?” You demanded and he chuckled softly. “You’re not meant to see me before the wedding, it’s bad luck.”

“I couldn’t resist.” He smiled at you then nodded at Luca who had decided to give the two of you some privacy by heading back inside. “Plus- Your mom told me that you were freaking out and I had to make sure you weren’t going to run out on me.”

You chuckled softly, fiddling with your engagement ring. “You are not the reason I’m freaking out.” You assured him with a smile. “In fact- you are the only thing I am sure about at this wedding. I don’t even know if French vanilla was the right choice for the cake anymore.”

“Oh, come on. French vanilla is the best choice for a wedding cake, we both tasted it and we both loved it.” He chuckled and walked across the garden to take your hands. “I think the dress you’re in can be another, you look like a Disney Princess.”

“You know it’s bad luck to see your bride before the wedding, right?”

“Meh,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “That’s such a dumb superstition, like seeing how beautiful you look before everyone else will ruin what we have. Nothing,” he said, brushing your hair out of your face. “Nothing will ever ruin what we have, Y/N.”

“I’m actually really glad to see you.” You admitted, chuckling nervously and wrapping your arms around his neck. He smiled and slipped his hands around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “You always know how to make me feel better.”

“I kind of have to, you’re going to be my wife soon.” He smiled and let out his own nervous chuckle; it was the good kind of nervous though, the excited kind that created butterflies in his stomach. “I gotta know how to take care of you, right?”

“You don’t happen to have a bag of Gummi Bears in your pocket, do you?”

“You know what.” He laughed and reached into his suit, you laughed as he pulled out a tiny packet of Gummi Bears. You felt your eyes well with tears of joy and excitement; you were about to marry the perfect man. “I figured you would need the distraction today, guess I was right.”

“You’re amazing, Christoper Evans.”

“I have to be to marry you.” He smiled and dipped his head to kiss you. “You’re going to be okay,” he assured you when he broke the kiss, much to your dismay; you could’ve just stayed with him in that garden forever. “And our wedding is going to be perfect, I promise.”

“I guess I’ll see you in there.” You told him and he nodded, pushing the bag of Gummi Bears into your hand. You chuckled softly and gave him another peck on his lips. “Thank you for this,” you held up the bag, smiling.

“Thank you for this,” he smiled and gestured to all of you; you blushed as your smile widened. “I’ll see you in there, Mrs. Evans.” He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek then hurried back in the direction he came.

• • • • • • • •

The music started and your father walked you down the aisle behind the wedding party. The entire time, your eyes were locked with Chris’. He smiled and patted his pocket, subtly informing you that he had another bag of Gummi Bears for you. You stifled a chuckle, your smile reaching your eyes; you were ready for this chapter of your life to begin.

“Take good care of her, Captain.” Your father told Chris as he gave you away; Chris nodded, his eyes never once leaving your face. “I love you, sweetheart.” Your father hugged you tightly and kissed your cheek before leaving you to Chris to join your mother on the sidelines.

“Aren’t you glad I didn’t trip?” You joked as the two of you joined the priest up at the alter. You heard Chris chuckle softly in response. “Are you sure about this?” You turned to him and he turned to meet your gaze. “'Cause we’re about to chain ourselves to each other for- the rest of our lives. You better be sure about this.”

“You say the stupidest things when you’re nervous,” he whispered softly into your head then pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Can we skip all the extra stuff and get to the vows so I can just- marry this girl already?” He asked the priest and laughter erupted in the church. “I don’t think I can wait any longer,” he said and smiled at you.

“Let’s get to the vows then,” the priest nodded. “I believe the two of you wrote your own?” He asked, and both you and Chris nodded. “Shall we begin with you, Mr. Evans? Can we have the rings, please?” He gestured for Scott; Chris’ best man to come forth.

“Don’t screw up, bud.” Scott patted Chris on the back and passed the rings over. Chris rolled his eyes whereas you chuckled. “You look beautiful, Y/N.” He smiled at you then moved back to his original spot.

“Okay,” Chris took your left hand in his, ring positioned at the tip of your finger as he began to recite his vows. “I don’t want to go into the history of our relationship- even though every second I’ve had with you has been utterly amazing, but I have to talk about the beginning. Before I met you- I never understood the meaning of true love. I always thought that as long as you loved someone and things worked, you could spend the rest of your life with that person. I was-” he chuckled softly, “very wrong. Meeting you made me realize that there was a specific person for everyone and that you were mine.”

“Chris,” you smiled and felt the tears well in your eyes.

“You, Y/N, you-” He felt his own eyes water as he continued to recite the vows he had spent the last nine months working on. “You gave me a new perspective on love, you made me believe in the possibility of having a soul mate. I love you because you stand by me and love me through everything. My ups and downs, my insane work schedule, my stupidity.” He chuckled. “You take care of me when I’m sick, you pretend to share my diehard love for The Patriots even though we both know you hate sports.” Everyone laughed, including you and Chris. “You give me a sense of purpose in life, and that is to love you and be everything you’ll ever need; a husband, a father, a friend, Captain America- if need be. Now I won’t make promises I can’t keep, I won’t pretend like I’m as perfect as you paint me to be- but I will do my best to be the man you see me as.” He slipped the ring onto your finger. “I love you, Y/N.”

“And I thought I was the writer in the relationship,” you let out a breathless chuckle and Chris smiled. “Well, here goes.” You took his left hand in yours and positioned the ring at the tip of his finger. “Christopher Robert Evans, you are possibly the best person I will ever love in this lifetime or another, and I am so incredibly lucky to have met you. The only thing I could ask for now is that I’d met you earlier so I could spend more of my life with you but- that’s just being greedy,” you chuckled softly and he smiled. “You spoke of the beginning and I feel like I should too because you deserve to know that even before we met, you never once ceased to amaze me. With your kindness and your incredible talent and of course-” you giggled, “your dashing good looks. I loved you even before you knew my name and every day since you took me to Russo’s for our date, I have been living a fairytale that I don’t ever want to end.”

“You’re going to make me cry,” Chris chuckled softly, pulling his hand away from yours for a brief moment to brush away a tear gone rouge. You giggled and he smiled, placing his hand back in yours. “Okay, sorry. Continue,” he nodded.

“You make my busy life so much easier and my bad days so much better. You give me the sense of clarity and assurance I need when I get nervous and angsty about the tiniest things. You tell me things are going to be fine and then you do everything in your power to make sure it happens. You take care of me when I go out and party a little too hard-” The two of you laughed at that, remembering drunk you was what brought forth his proposal. “And make sure I always wake up to a hearty breakfast. You’re constantly challenging me, forcing me out of my comfort zone but never failing to make me feel safe. You keep our romance alive, you keep me so incredibly happy, and most of all- you love me even when I can’t love myself. You say you’re not as perfect as I paint you out to be but I disagree, you are every bit the man I see you as. Everything I am and everything good about me is you, Chris, and I am so ready to spend the rest of my life with you.” You slipped the ring onto his finger and smiled, “I love you.”

“I hereby pronounce you husband and wife,” the priest said; the grin on yours and Chris’ face grew as the two of you prepared for the next part. “You may now kiss your bride,” the priest told Chris but his lips were already on yours.

Applause and cheers erupted throughout the church but your focus was only on your husband, just as his was on you. Chris broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against yours, smiling, with your face cupped in his hands. You smiled back, wrapping your hands tightly around his wrists.

“I love you, Mrs. Evans,” he whispered.

“And I love you, Mr. Evans,” you smiled.

Tagging: @widowsfics @winter-tospring @katiew1973 @m-a-t-91 @xoxomioxoxo @imaginesofdreams @ateliefloresdaprimavera

When I first heard the ‘When is a door not a door?” riddle years ago, I was so fucking confused because English isn’t my first language and I had never heard the word ‘ajar’ before. So I understood the answer as ‘When it’s a jar.’

And I was like ‘Of fucking course a jar is not a door what the fuck kind of shit riddle is this’

Brave/Peter Pan Fluff

Originally posted by neverland93

Most of these are taken from my Wattpad account! (Twtrash01)

Send me requests for the following Fandoms: Teenwolf, Vampire Diaries, Dolantwins, OUAT(Peter Pan, Robbie Kay, Supernatural, Suicide Squad, The 100. Basically I’ll write for any fandom. I’ll write non-smut as well. Be specific in what you want! *I DON’T OWN ANY GIFS*

Request:  Hi can you do a sad/fluffy imagine with Peter Pan? The reader is a bad ass warrior princess hence her nickname “Brave Princess” with her sword and bow and arrows. The reader gets shot and Peter (who secretly lives her and vica versa) tries to heal her before she blacks out. Maybe a confession scene between them in his tent? Plez and thank you:-)

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Everything’s Good (An Adlock x John Fanfiction)

(As prompted by the lovely @i-am-benedict-cumberbatched, with a quick nudge from @realestofgeek, here’s some adlock x john ft. lestrade for y’all. I honestly planned it out to be comedic, but knowing me, it has a hint of drama. Sneaking in a reference to one of my personal headcanons, and the Izzy x Shezza thing too. Hope you enjoy!)

In the very rare times, with urgency sending a wave of curiosity, Irene found herself on a train back to London as requested by Sherlock Holmes. It was in fact interesting, as he usually prefers to come over wherever she is, but now there was vagueness in his message. 

Baker Street. Tomorrow. It’s urgent. SH.

She stared out the window, wondering at the possibilities. Surely it isn’t really anything major, and of course, it can be because Sherlock is being a drama queen as usual, so she is clearly running out of explanations. 

But then besides looking forward to seeing dear Mr. Holmes again, she can’t help but feel excited to greet little Rosie Watson once more. 

More than half a year ago, she sneaked the detective a visit and found him playing with the toddler, smart and sharp eyes staring at her in wonder. She never really liked children but Rosie proved to be an exception. Her monthly visits somehow became an addiction, the most recent one just a few days shy from the present.

And somehow, as she pondered on her recent interactions with the child, something finally clicked as to why she’s being summoned. 

It was no surprise that she is greeted by none other than John Watson’s unreadable expression upon arrival. Sherlock was standing by the window, giving her a small nod as she entered. But before she could ask to confirm her assumption, the doctor spoke. 

“We need to talk.” John said solemnly. 

“I assumed so.” Irene replied, still remaining where she stood. 

“Not here. How about a cafe? Or a pub?” John asked, grabbing his coat from the chair. Not taking notice of the expression of protest crossing Sherlock’s face. 

“Quite early for a pub. Maybe a cafe. Just not the one downstairs.” Irene mused, turning towards the door. 

“Are you expecting me to stay?” Sherlock hissed, obviously annoyed at this passing understanding. 

“Yes, because you have to watch Rosie.” John said pointedly, shrugging at Irene’s amused expression. 

“Mrs. Hudson can watch Rosie.” Sherlock muttered, but still not moving from where he stood, glaring at Irene for siding with the doctor. 

“And you can help her. Lestrade will be joining us too, just so you know.” John’s voice had a hint of teasing in it, quite faint but obvious enough for Irene to notice. 

Sherlock’s eyebrows knit, “Lestrade? What –?”

But Irene already left him to his words, and so did John. 

The trip to the cafe was silent, no words passed between her and her companion. It was only when their orders were placed in front of them that he decided to speak. 

Where are you right now? SH.


“Seeing that you’re not surprised that I was the one who asked to call you, I assume you figured it out?” John said quietly. 

Irene nodded. “I meant no harm, Dr. Watson.”

“Just John… It’s not like we don’t know each other.” he replied. 

“So you’re comfortable calling me by just my name?” she quipped, taking a sip of her tea. 

John smiled a little. “I forgot how annoyingly clever you can be.”

“I thought you’re used to Sherlock.” she smiled back, to which John nodded in understanding. 

John, taking Lestrade and leaving me here is absurd. Where are you taking Irene? SH.


“Again, John, about the perfume, I meant no harm. It’s just that it seemed to comfort Rosie a lot.” Irene explained, sincerity in her voice. 

John pursed his lips, nodding. “Did Sherlock tell you? That Ma– Mary’s perfume was Claire De La Lune?” 

She shook her head. “She was wearing it when we met. I’m so sorry about her. Mary was such a delight.”

Oh, for God’s sake. I’ll be there in 10 minutes. SH.

Irene glanced at her phone and did not reply.

He stared at her, confused. “When did you meet Mary?” 

“A couple of days before your wedding. But best to let Sherlock explain.” she simply said, before taking another sip. “The point is, your daughter is still coping, just like you. She sleeps better in my arms than Sherlock’s when I put it on.”

John gave a soft sigh. “Now, the thing is, I wouldn’t have known it was you until Rosie mentioned ‘Izzy.’”

Irene laughed. “She’s quite fond of nicknames.Though if I must let you know, she’s the only one permitted to call me that.”

“Just quite perfect for Sherlock’s crack den name, too — Shezza.” John blurted with an exasperated grin. “But I — I think what I wanted to say is thank you. Rose seems very fond of you.  I can’t believe I’m saying this but I think you remind her a bit of Mary. The sense of danger an all that.”

She read the grief and sadness in John’s eyes, the familiarity similar to Sherlock’s whenever he holds Rosie, and Irene understood why he needed to talk to her personally. It must have come as quite a shock to smell the perfume of her late wife lingering in his daughter’s clothes, finding the peaceful look on her face that reminds him of his own agony. 

Reaching for his hand, Irene squeezed it firmly, still surprised that there came a day when John Watson and herself would have a heartfelt moment. He looked up at her, a small smile on his face, and she saw that he was trying his best not to cry in front of her. 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, John quirked his lips, trying to change his tone to curiosity.

“Speaking of you visiting my daughter, how long has this been going on? You and Sherlock… being domestic.” John asked with grin. 

“It’s not like that at all.” Irene clarified. 

“But… you and him… You know…” 

Irene raised her eyebrows. “What exactly do you want to know? ‘Cause I can tell you things we’ve done, though you might not approve.”

John’s eyebrows knit. “No! Not that. Just… what is going on? Are you… together? Do you… love him? Or this is still one of your games?”

She smiled. “Are you jealous?”

John rolled his eyes. “No, but seriously, I don’t think he can take anymore of your tricks. He’s… he’s in this too deep.”

“You think he… loves me?” Irene asked, her voice almost a whisper. 

“You know, for two smart people, both of you can be really thick. Now, he did mention saving you from the terrorist…thing. And even then, it didn’t occur to you?” John was incredulously amused at this point. 

“We just… don’t talk about it.” Irene admitted, shrugging. 

John sighed. “But you’re not playing him off? Not this time?” 

Irene shook her head. “It’s been years. It’s not like that anymore.”

“Now, I might not be on the same level as both of you, but clearly you care about him, he cares about you — just… just stop being overly complicated. No one’s asking you to settle down, have children, and have brunch at Harvester’s every weekend. Just a little confirmation would do. 

I mean, I never understood it before, no offence, but being with Mary and finding out her past — it’s just like what Sherlock said. I chose her. I’m addicted to that kind of life. And so is he. He chose you and it’s because you and him… It’s not something anyone can explain but I think both of you already know that well, it is what it is.

And, as long as this isn’t just you setting him up for something again, which I can see is not the case, then we’re good. Everything’s… good.” 

John was trying hard not to look at her after his long monologue, but she could tell that he meant every word. 

She was about to reply when someone, a silver fox with a nervous smile, approached them. 

“Hey John, erm… Is this… Is this… Hi, I’m Greg.” the DI extended his hand, obviously flustered. Irene took it, giving him a welcoming smile. 

“Irene Adler. Pleasure to meet you.” she greeted, fighting the urge to laugh at Lestrade’s not-to-subtle surprise. 

John eyed Lestrade, pursing his lips as his eyes darted back and forth to the inspector and The Woman. Irene sneaked a quick wink at him when Lestrade wasn’t looking, signalling that she was well aware of the effect she had on the detective inspector.

“Best if you take a seat, Greg.” John quipped, swiping his nose slightly to avoid snorting. 

Lestrade took the seat beside him, eyes never leaving Irene. “So, uh… I… uh… you’re Sherlock’s… lady friend?”

Irene leaned closer to the table towards Lestrade’s direction. “Yes, I am. And you must be his friend from Scotland Yard… Greg, is it?” 

She looked at John as if to confirm her musings, and the doctor rubbed the side of his forehead as if having a headache, a controlled grin across his lips. 

“Yes, I’m a detective… inspector. Detective inspector. I worked with Sherlock in a lot of cases.” Lestrade offered, letting go a nervous cough. 

Knitting her fingers together to prop her chin on, Irene raised her eyebrows to show interest. “I like detectives… and detective stories. Care to indulge me, detective inspector?” Her voice lingered on the last two words like a purr.

Lestrade was about to take a sharp breath before starting, but a shadow cast over them, and there was Sherlock Holmes towering over their small table. 

“I think tea time is over… Graeme.” he growled, eyes narrowing at all three of them. Irene’s lips curved to a smirk. 

Lestrade eyed him incredulously. “So we’re back at forgetting my name again, huh?” 

“We’re leaving. Rosie is calling for her father and the responsible thing to do is to go back and attend to her, right, John?” Sherlock announced dryly, still glaring at Lestrade. 

“Oh, if you only need John then maybe Greg and I can stay here for a while? Have a little chat?” Irene purred, a challenging look in her eyes. 

“I’m sure Gavin has somewhere else he needs to be.” Sherlock hissed, glaring at her.

“How long have you been there?” Irene asked. 

John left on a different cab with Lestrade, and ever since they left the cafe, Sherlock remained silent. Even with Irene’s question, his eyes were looking out the window, much like his usual thinking trance, but a strain was evident in his eyes, leading to the conclusion that he was ignoring her on purpose.

“It’s a simple question.” she muttered, rolling her eyes at his stubborness. 

She heard him sigh. “Long enough.”


“And what?” 

Sherlock finally turned to meet her eyes, his expression unreadable. “Nothing. I just didn’t expect you and John would finally get along. And also Lestrade. You seemed to get along really well. He can’t stop himself from gawking.”

Upon hearing the forced calmness in his voice, Irene laughed. “No need to be jealous, Sherlock.” 

The detective looked affronted. “Jealous? Why… why would I be jealous?”

“You don’t have to try so hard, dear.” Irene replied, turning the other window to hide her smile. “You heard John, no need to be overly complicated.”

“Pft. What does John know? He married an ex-assassin.” he murmured, also looking away from Irene, hiding the grin spreading across his face. 

anonymous asked:

Before I was in a relationship I never understood why people were so obsessed with love n stuff and I was adamant that i only needed myself but truth is I was so much more happier when I was in a relationship like it was a huge source of happiness and confidence in my life. We broke up a while back and it seems soo cliché but the whole experience has changed me I feel so conflicted like I'm a generally a person who likes to be alone and stuff but I loved knowing that someone wanted to be with me

The difference between a partner that supports you and helps you and a partner who hurts and abuses you is so incredibly drastic I’m dumbfounded I let myself be treated so badly for so long. I’ve been going through so so much with either no love to hold on to or love that makes things worse and the feeling of realising all of that wasn’t normal, all of that wasn’t what my love could be is like surfacing out of a deep ocean trench. I nearly gave up on it but now my heart feels fuller than ever. She makes me feel capable, valuable, understood and respected, I’ve never had this before, for all kinds of reasons but either way, I’ve never had this before.

anonymous asked:

thank you so much- I never understood the whole "stimming is bliss" thing before I saw ur blog. I stimmed, but it never overwhelmed my body with happiness. Then I saw a gif of you flapping, tried it, and honestly I feel so much better. It's been a week and I have found a few body stims that I loove and it's all thanks to you showing me what flapping is!!

I’m so glad that you’ve been able to explore body stims. They are so good and important and honestly a necessity for me

Do You Remember? (Daveed x Reader)

Warnings: implication of suicide attempt, angst, but mostly fluff

Word Count: 964

A/N: Daveed is speaking directly to fem!reader in this fic. This fic came out of nowhere. I literally opened Microsoft Word and told myself that I wanted to write something. The first paragraph took some time, but the rest came on its own. I will admit that this is a different concept. But I really do like how this turned out.  Please please pleaseeee give me feedback on this. I really had a great time writing it, and I hope you have a great time reading it!

There’s a lot of things that will never change. Gravity is the force that keeps us on the ground. We reside on the third planet from the sun. Water is composed of two oxygen atoms and a hydrogen atom. And I love you.

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I never realized how loud our world was before. I never noticed that there were always noises around us. Manmade noises so loud that you couldn’t hear the birds most of the time or the heart pounding in your chest. Only in that night, laying under the stars on the cold hard ground, hearing nothing but my own breathing with no sign of any other human being alive, I realized how terribly quiet it was and how it has never been that way before. That night I finally understood why people feared silence.