i used to do stuff like this all the time writing in bed and everything and waking up in the middle of the night and writing

anonymous asked:

Could you write Neil waking up and finding Piper sleeping between him and Andrew? 🙏🏼😭

my dear, precious, lovely anon. i was in the process of writing something else when you sent this ask, and let me tell you, i dropped EVERYTHING to write this immediately. thank you. i definitely got carried away with it. also on AO3.

send me prompts :)


Andrew wakes with a small start, silent as always. Memories of hands and teeth are thankfully fading away as he takes in his surroundings, dragging himself back to the present. He hears Neil’s soft breathing to his right, feels Sir’s claws slightly digging into the skin of his leg, sees the blob of fur that is King tucked against Neil’s side.

His heart rate has now returned to normal, but there’s no way he’ll make it back to sleep. Not after that particularly unpleasant dream. He navigates to the edge of the bed without waking Neil and managing to annoy Sir, both of which were on his to-do list. Andrew quietly walks to the door and pulls it open, casting one last glance over his shoulder to make sure everyone is still asleep. Silently congratulating himself for a clean getaway, he steps into the hallway, remembering to leave the door cracked on his way out. It was Neil’s idea, not only leaving the door unlocked but cracking it open as well. Andrew still isn’t completely comfortable with it, but he understands the necessity.

He pads through the apartment, aiming for the kitchen and the glorious distraction of hot chocolate. It has been his go-to comfort for years, and it always makes him miss Bee. He resolves to call her tomorrow to check in. It’s been too long.

Halfway there, he hears a small cry coming from the room at the end of the hall. His steps speed up as he makes his way to the door, knocking tentatively once he’s reached it. There is no answer, but he can still hear the barely-there sounds of distress coming from within.

He slowly opens the door and steps inside, eyes landing on the sleeping little girl fiercely clutching a purple rabbit to her chest. Her face is turned into her pillow, like she was unconsciously trying to muffle her cries. She is shaking, her body tense from head to toe.

Andrew keeps his distance, knowing full well how varied her reactions can be. “Piper,” he says. Then again, louder when he gets no response. “Piper.”

She jolts awake, eyes flitting around the room in fear until they land on him. She breathes out a sigh of relief and flops back down onto her pillow, rabbit tossed aside. “Thanks,” she says, bravely smiling up at him like all is right with the world now. Who she’s trying to convince, Andrew isn’t sure.

He doesn’t reply but moves toward her instead. He silently extends a hand, and she studies it for a moment before reaching out and taking it, letting him pull her from the bed and out of the room.

Andrew leads her into the kitchen, turning around to pick her up and place her on the counter. She starts kicking her legs back and forth, hitting the drawers on every downswing. He absently thinks that this should annoy him. It doesn’t.

He has just put the almond milk on the stove to boil when she says, “Did you know that almond milk was really popular during the Middle Ages?”

Andrew stops. Turns around. Stares at her for a moment. “We’ve been letting you spend way too much time around Kevin,” he says dismissively, putting his attention back to the task at hand.

Without even looking at her, Andrew can feel how hard she rolls her eyes. It reminds him of Neil. “At least Kevin watches stuff other than Exy and Jeopardy.”

Andrew swings back around immediately. “Excuse me? Did I or did I not sit through all eight Harry Potter movies last weekend?”

“Well…” she falters for a moment, then lifts her chin in defiance. “You didn’t like it, though,” she points out. “And the whole time, you were just complaining about how Dad and Harry are basically the same person. Something about an ‘idiot hero complex’.” She’s got him there, and she knows it. Dammit.

He inclines his head in acknowledgement and mutters, “Touché.”

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Tumblr - Girl (Part 1)

Tumblr - Girl (Series)

Part 2
Masterlist


Pairing: Misha Collins x reader

Summary: You post on your tumblr after a panic attack, not knowing if you would get an answer

Word Count: 1.736

Warnings: panic attack, angst, swearing, mental illness, depression, maybe fluff (I’m really not good at this!)

Notes: it is my first fanfic and I am not a English native speaker so please don’t hate me

Your POV

“Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in.” you said to yourself. You felt the beginning panic attack, your pulse increased, tears welled up in your eyes and you your lungs couldn’t get enough air. “Breathe out. Breathe in.” you continued your mantra. Your whole body was shaking, but you knew it would eventually get better. After a few minutes of just breathing your body calmed down and you took your phone to distract yourself. There was not a lot going on on tumblr but you just scrolled through your dashboard, multiple times you saw postings about the unbelievable support from the SPNfamily and how they cared about their “family members”. You considered yourself as a family member since quite a long time and you often posted help-seeking texts, but not one time you got an answer to those. You just were not important, to anybody, nobody wants to talk to you. Tears started welling up again and you sobbed quietly. Before you knew what you were doing you typed a short text:

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Five Words

Warnings: suicide thoughts, car crash, ANGST?

Characters: Sam and Dean Winchester, Sister!Reader, John Winchester (mentioned)

Summary/Request: Hi!!! I don’t know if this is the right place to request imagines but I’m just gonna assume so lol. Anyways, could you write an a little sister imagine where the reader tells Dean secret that’s really important to her (whatever you want it to be) and then later on he uses it against her in an argument? And then just some fluff at the end. Thank you! And btw, your writing is AMAZING!!! 

Word Count: 953

Y/N: your name


The words swiftly fell from your mouth like the tears that slipped from your eyes. Five words that was all you said to your eldest brother Dean. Five words that can change it all -“I want to kill myself”.  It was one of those nights that you would wake up crying from a terrible nightmare and Dean would come and save the day like always to comfort you. You trusted Dean, Dean never lied - not to you at least. Dean never left you either, well not that much. Either way you loved him and trusted him enough to tell him that, but you now know you shouldn’t have.

You and Dean were discussing- or more like fighting over being able to go on a solo hunt. You’ve been fighting for almost over an hour now and it was starting to get annoying. It was a simple case of vampires over in Alabama yet, he didn’t want let you. You were already 18, you should be able to do it.

“I said no Y/N, so stop asking.” Dean said with a calm but angry tone, it made your stomach churn cold. It reminded you so much of your dad when he was angry. But, you weren’t gonna give in because of fear so you just kept on going.

“But why? And no is not an answer.” You answered back your eyes drilling holes into his head with pure rage. This was unfair, this was a matter of saving people it wasn’t like you were asking to do drugs.

“I said no. Besides why do you want to go if you don’t even want to live.” He said giving his back to you. You gasped, feeling as though everything inside of you was pulled out.

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Request: “I know it’s 3 in the morning but I can’t find my cat.” (from this prompt list)

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Rating: PG (literally one swear word)

Synopsis: Reader lives in the same building as Peter and, when her cat goes missing from the apartment, she starts wandering the halls before running into Peter as he’s leaving his place.

Note: I’m moving my fanfiction from 5SOS ( @1980hood ) to Marvel! And I’ve noticed the Marvel writers tend to use second person but I’m more comfortable with first person so I’m going to stick with that. Hope that’s okay, y'all.
•••

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Dream On (Jun Drabble)

Idol: Jun (Seventeen)

Type: Fluff, fluff, fluff and cheesy af till it’s not… (sorry about that)

Word count: 2333

A/N: I don’t usually write Seventeen stuff but this is something I started writing out of nowhere while being stressed out and getting nightmares everyday, so why not posting it? I hope you like it!

Originally posted by jeonghney

He felt something strange, unusual since a couple of months ago. The bed was moving nonstop, you were moving. No, twisting. That was the right word.

At first, he tried to convince himself it was normal, that usually happened as well when you ate a lot of sugar right before going to sleep, despite of him begging you not to.

This could’ve been one of those times. He wanted to believe that because thinking otherwise broke his heart in so many ways he was unable to describe.

He opened his eyes slowly even knowing it was not possible to see a thing. His arms were still wrapped around you, holding you tight as he was scared of you to leave him in the middle of the night. He wouldn’t tell you but he actually was. 

That silly thought was everything but real and still managed to terrify him to death. No one else could understand him the way you did and what you both had was more than he had ever asked for. So yeah, he held you pretty tight not only to keep you by his side but to protect you, for you to feel him and know that no matter what he would keep you safe.

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mybrothercomesfirst  asked:

I was wondering, since you set up the automated feed, if you have a favorite kind of fic to read

Honestly, I’ve always been a multishipper, plus I’ve kind of drifted off from Wincest in the last year or so, and haven’t really read anything new in a while. I run the feed because the last person that did it fell off the face of the earth sometime in the middle of 2014, and it just seemed wrong to me not to have a Wincest AO3 feed on tumblr, even if I personally don’t really read the fic any more. But I have a list of my all-time faves that I definitely recommend, although most of them are old and probably considered classics by now

  • The Incestuous Courtship of The Antichrist’s Bride - NC-17, 48,000 words, crack-horror, post Lucifer AU - Summary: Sam is trying to become the Antichrist in order to save the world. He has a small army of angels and demons, he has an adoring cult, he has a work of prophecy by Jack Kerouac, and he has Dean. Things are going pretty well until he accidentally signs Dean up as his Beloved Consort, a role that requires sex with the Antichrist on an altar. And that’s when things stop going pretty well. Also, the soundtrack to the Apocalypse sucks. (LiveJournal)
  • In Medias Res - NC-17, 38,486 words, post-hell AU - Summary: Dean wakes a day after dying with no memories of Hell, and no idea what has happened. His only clues are a catatonic Sam, and whatever his brother was doing when they were separated. (AO3)
  • One Going On Eternity And Counting - NC-17, 24,942 words, dub-con/non-con - Summary: Some boundaries were never meant to be crossed … (AO3)
  • And Other Poison Devils - NC-17, 10,976 words, fuck-or-die/dub-con - Summary: Sam steps in again, buries his face in Dean’s neck and grabs at his back, his ass, torso hot and sweaty against Dean’s. Dean tries to catch his breath, fighting every urge to jump away from Sam; has to save his brother, and there’s only one way, one way and Dean has to fucking let it happen. (AO3)
  • The Last Outpost Of All That Is - R, 59,037 words, post world end AU - Summary: The world begins with the interruption of a sleep. Which is why wakefulness is the only proof of existence. And why the world is fragmented and cannot achieve fullness. And why it constantly seeks to reconstruct fullness. In vain, because the discontinuous will never pass over into the continuous. Mathematics tells us that, last outpost of all that is. – Roberto Calasso, Ka  (AO3)
  • Stranger Than Fiction - NC-17, 50,500 words, meta comedy-drama - Summary: Dean can’t stop wondering why people would write gay porn about him and Sam. Research takes him to interesting places; re-reading novels for subtext, visiting message boards, and a really freaky place called LiveJournal. What he discovers is a sick fascination with fanfiction, more about gay sex than he ever wanted to know, and an even deeper obsession with understanding why people write this stuff. Meanwhile, they’re hunting a mysterious monster that takes the form of a person’s truest love to kill them slowly, the lines between fanfiction and reality are starting to break down, and they still have to stop Lilith and save the world. (LiveJournal)
  • Skin Like Fear - NC-17, 18,762 words, season 7 AU - Summary: It’s not that Dean doesn’t get that Sam doesn’t want to talk about whatever Hell did to him; Dean practically wrote the book on that particular brand of avoidance. Except that Sam doesn’t do this. Dean is supposed to clam up and Sam is supposed to pry and bleat about how “communication is good for the soul” or some shit. Sam is supposed to cry on his shoulder and Dean is supposed to stoically hold him and let him get it out, maybe shedding a manful tear or two in solidarity. Here’s the thing: Sam comes back from Hell with a bubble of space around him. He doesn’t want to be touched, especially by Dean, and he won’t explain. He won’t talk about Hell at all, and Dean’s going crazy. It’s going to take a strange case (and a little magic) in Michigan to break the floodgates, but when Dean finally learns the truth, he might wish that he hadn’t… (AO3)
  • The Partisan - NC-17, 38,638 words, post 9.10 AU Summary: Sam returns to the bunker and Dean before he’s ready; still, he tries to keep it professional. He fails. (AO3)
  • Come Spring - R, 8,726 words, curtain fic AU - Summary: Objectively, he can see that his brother isn’t beautiful. Not like this, stretched out like some humanoid starfish, his hair in his eyes and his mouth a drawbridge open to sleep. No, Sam looks like a naked frat boy who passed out in his little brother’s bed, legs knotted in Spiderman sheets and feet almost touching the floor. He looks oversized, too big for the everyday world they’ve wound up in; but then, he’s always been too much for Dean. (AO3)
  • It’s The Blueprint Of Your Life - NC-17, 38,400 words, Red Sky at Morning AU - Summary: Sam jerks awake in the middle of the night and everything goes to hell. Well, not literally, though Dean is staring down the barrel of less than a year before his deal comes due. In the midst of dealing (or not dealing) with his impending death, a killer ghost ship, and Bela showing up out of the blue, Dean also has to figure out what’s going on in Sam’s head to make him so twitchy, why he’s suddenly breezing through this case while writing endless notes in a notebook he won’t let Dean see. Damn it, Dean thinks, This is gonna take a lot of chickflick moments. (AO3)
  • Monumentally Stupid - NC-17, 5,800 words, hurt!Sam & first time - Summary: Sam’s hurt both hands, so Dean has to shave him. Having Dean that close to him, focused with that little concentrating frown, breath warm on his face, Dean’s competent hands tilting his head and angling him exactly the way he wants him – well, Sam’s not doing too well right now pretending he’s not attracted to his brother. And he’s only wearing boxers, Dean’s bound to notice. Dean’s going to have him all figured out. (LiveJournal)
  • The Truth In A Lie - NC-17, 62,264 words, case!file & first time - Summary: Sam and Dean pretend to be gay lovers while they hunt a monster on a bus tour of Nova Scotia. (AO3)
  • Becomes A Monster - NC-17, 35,800 words, canon divergence with past Dean/Benny warnings & violence and blood!kink - Summary: Sam’s “normal” life dissolves when his brother mysteriously returns from the dead. But when Dean came back, Benny the vampire wasn’t the only thing that came back with him. Now Sam is in a race against time to save his brother. This is one race that Sam refuses to lose. (LiveJournal)

On top of all that I definitely also recommend:

Hope that helps

Five Confessions

Originally posted by crayonboxhearts

Pairing: A splash of Jason x Polly, Jughead x Reader and Jughead x Betty
Word Count: 1,717
Warnings: Underage drinking, I swear a lot (you’ll get used to it), I’m kind of mean to Jason. I can’t help it, he’s always been creepy to me.
Summary: Reader finds liquid courage to write a confession to Jughead about her part in Jason Blossom’s murder. While she’s at it, she confesses a couple of other things.
A/N: Call me Quill! I’m accepting requests and until I get some my creativity is gonna run rampant and stuff like this is gonna happen


Dear Jughead,

I know that you’ve been trying to figure out what happened to Jason. I admit, it’s taken me a long time to reach out to you. Part of it was the shock: boys like Jason Blossom are supposed to be invincible. Then there was the grief, which I’ll get to later, and then I had to find the courage within myself to confess some things to you that I’m not proud of. The whole experience has made me realize that I’m a fucking coward.

Let’s start this off with an unofficial confession, a little truth to get us started. I only found the courage to write to you because I stole a bottle of wine from the Blossom’s extensive wine cellar. You read that correctly, Jughead. I stole from the Blossoms. Ha!

Okay, enough stalling. I’ve got some shit to get off my chest and I hope you’re ready.

Keep reading

i found the heart of a lion in the belly of the beast [fic swap for buckysbears]

For my fic swap assignment I got the lovely @buckysbears who is a fabulous Skimmons writers and a wonderful friend and I’m honored to be able to write for you! Your stuff is excellent and I’m always marveling at how talented you are with your writing! I hope this story fulfills your hopes and expectations!

It seems unfair to have to experience nightmares, to have the memories and sensations and terrors that she’s already experienced in her waking moments pervade her subconscious as well. There’s no escape and she’s just tired.

Always tired.

AKA: Five times Jemma has a nightmare and five times she finds comfort in her team.

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Valentine's Day with Yoongi

And now it is time for half of the Daegu line, my highkey spirit animal, the ever so talented, Min Yoongi aka Suga aka d-boy

  • Okay let’s do this
  • Yoongi is a laidback lover
  • He’s a very laidback person in general
  • But when he goes for romantic, it’s romantic as fuck
  • We’ve all seen what a sweetheart Yoongi is underneath all of that “yo i’m so cool swag”
  • The proof is in the fact that on his birthday, he gave gifts to the Army instead of just chilling like most people do on their birthday
  • Like he went above and beyond for the Army
  • He handwrote hundreds of notes and took different pictures for everyone
  • And that was all bc he wanted to !!!
  • He can be lazy when he wants to be but he’s a total sweetheart who works super hard too
  • Like if he did all of that for the Army, imagine what he’d for his love, his best friend that he gets to make out with
  • Which btw, is what he calls you when he introduces this
  • “This is my best friend but we also lowkey make out and stuff so technically we’re in a relationship but we’re also best friends”
  • I just wanted to point that out real quick but back to my point
  • He’s pretty chill most of the time but every now and then, for no real rhyme or reason, he spoils the fuck out of you
  • He already lowkey spoils you
  • Bc while he can walk around and be like of course I can say no to you I’m not whipped, the second you pull out the puppy dog eyes and are just like Yoongi plz, he’s done he’s gone he’s gotta
  • But typically, that’s with lil things like a box of chocolates or some ice cream
  • He likes to leave lil tiny notes stuck around your shared apartment
  • Each one of them is different
  • Some are more casual and are just to get you to laugh a bit
  • “Hi you’ve probably just woken up if you’re in here so good morning bby get your ass back into bed and cuddle me I’m probably really cold rn”
  • “Hey you must be making coffee, make your loving boyfriend a cup too plz and thnx”  
  • “Oh someone’s having some cereal, you know who likes cereal it’s me it’s your bby so share plz”
  • But some are a bit more romantic and loving and are meant to make you smile maybe blush a lil
  • “Your smile’s cute you’re cute ily”
  • “Idk if I tell you enough but your eyes are my favorite part, especially when they’re giving me that lovey dovey look”
  • “You mean the world to me, even the lil things you do like when you stay up and wait for me to come home”
  • Valentine’s Day with him is relaxed but also really really romantic
  • He has this knack of being able to find the perfect balance of not being over the top but also doing enough to make you feel loved 
  • On the actual day, he turns off all of the alarms and lets the both of you sleep in to your heart’s content
  • It’s actually really nice bc you get to wake up feeling all refreshed and comfy bc Yoongi seems like such a good pillow
  • He’d also use you as a pillow too bc he’s cute like that
  • Like you could wake up in the middle of the night and see his head resting on your chest or your stomach and you wonder if that’s even comfortable but hey he likes it
  • Valentine’s Day may as well be renamed to cuddle day bc the two of you don’t get out of bed until like 2 or 3
  • You wake up a few hours before that of course but you spend your time wrapped up in each other’s arms
  • I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again bc it hurTS ME but sleepy voiced Yoongi !!!!!!!!
  • Like his voice is already lazy and raspy but when he’s sleepy that shit intensifies
  • It’s honestly a bit difficult to stay awake bc his voice is so calming and is lowkey lulling you to sleep
  • When you two do finally get out of bed, you order some takeout bc both of you agree you don’t wanna do any work today
  • You just wanna lay back and enjoy being with him and having him in your arms
  • He gets you a giant teddy bear
  • It’s literally bigger than he is tbh
  • “When I go on tour, I wanted you to have something to hold and cuddle, I named him Yoongi”
  • He also writes you a song that explains how in love he is and how he feels about you bc he wants you to know that he does appreciate everything you do for him, even if you think he doesn’t notice
  • It’s really really sweet and it does make you tear up a bit bc it’s so personal and you can tell it’s just for you
  • Like normally when he writes songs for you, he writes it for the public too so he can’t get too personal
  • But this song was for your ears only so he didn’t have to hold back at all
  • The gifts are simple but they mean so so much to you and to him that he could’ve given you a diamond necklace and it wouldn’t have been as perfect

anonymous asked:

Could i request a fic or oneshot with any of the bts members based on the song "What Am I to you?" by bts? I really love your writing!! So much im basically always waiting for your fics!! Thank you beforehand!!

asjfhskdfskdj thank you, I’m a terrible and depressing writer but thank you lol. I was originally was going to write this for Namjoon, but Jimin felt a little more appropriate. idk, maybe I will come back and write a similar scenario for Namjoon since this was fun to write.

Exhaustion.

It’s the first thing you feel at the sight of his name on the caller ID when your phone blows up in the middle of the night. It riddles your bones, wraps around your mind and drags the apples of your cheeks, the corners of your lips into a permanent scowl.

The jaded way you swing the steering wheel down and around the vacant streets of the night, you know it’s best to get home as soon as possible. If one were to suddenly cross your path, you’re not sure if you’d even consider braking.

“Goddammit, Jimin,” You drag the stumbling heap of limbs into the passenger seat and pull away from the club. “You’re grown fucking man, you should know when enough is enough,”

Jimin laughs beside you, slumping over the arm of his seat, and you cringe at the reek of alcohol. “C'mon, Y/N, I was just having a little fun…you of all people should know how to have fun,”

You scowl, hands pulling the car around in a sharp turn, taking a sort of sadistic pleasure at the sound of his head smacking the window.

“Where are your friends? Don’t you have a designated driver or some shit? Or did he get wasted too?” When he fails to respond, you glare at him out the corner of your eye. “Where’s your wife?”

This time he chuckles somewhat dismally, not refusing to meet your gaze. “Ah, you know Sunyi. She’s not into this kind of stuff…doesn’t like to see me like this.”

“You mean drunk?” You scoff, and raising your hand to cut him off when he tosses you a lazy smile.

Keep reading

You clear my sky. 

This is a follow up to this thing i wrote last week.   Little bit of angst, little bit of non angst and that’s all I’ll say. Hope you enjoy it.  The title is taken from the lyrics of another Ward Thomas song, Dirt and gold. 

Its set several months on and this time in Liam’s POV.   It looks at the recent past initially and then present day. (some is under the cut as its fairly long). 

**

It’s the sun that shines through the small window that wakes Liam up.   

Yesterday it was the birds, or a bird to be precise that had plonked itself on top of the chimney and if there’s a bird alive in Timbuctoo or on the North and South Poles that didn’t hear its call and squawking, Liam will be amazed.

Still though, despite that, despite everything country life brings where the absence of noise and sheer quiet except for birds and well more birds, where the hustle and bustle of city life is nowhere to be seen, sometimes feels maddeningly loud. 

Despite all that, without this sanctuary and all it brings, this little piece of the world that’s just theirs alone, he doubts he’d be here. 

And not just here in this little cottage, no, here.  Someone living and breathing. 

He’d be a memory.  And the rate he was going at, he’d only be a memory of those last months.  Of pain. 

Sometimes he thinks back to those days where he’d put one foot in front of the other somehow, where he’d flash his ID badge at security on reception and where even pouring a boiling water into his mug felt like one act too far as his hands would shake. 

Where he had to tell himself, will himself not to flinch when Zayn touched him because every touch felt like a shock, made him realise he was alive when all he wanted to do was pretend he wasn’t, that somehow it was all in his head, his imagination.

That it was some kind of nightmare and that with a click of his red sneakers, he’d wake up and be back in reality once more. The old reality where everything was fine. 

Till the new reality came crashing down around him, when the mug had crashed onto the floor for the last time, and somehow he’d made it home, where all he wanted, all he craved was Zayn’s arms.

Zayn’s comfort.   

And where he got exactly that, but it made no difference and the next morning, he did flinch.

Left to his own devices, left to lie on the bed in that apartment in the city, that apartment with all the latest mod cons, where the delivery of a single piece of steak was possible with just one telephone call, he thinks that perhaps he would’ve got better or thought he was.

But the cycle would’ve repeated over and over, till one day Zayn would’ve walked away and all Liam’s hopes and dreams would disappear out the door with him. Wither and die.  Till he’d die. 

But then Zayn saved his life for the millionth time.   Okay, he can’t count to one million, or not without getting distracted but its lots of times that’s for sure. 

He brought him here. 

He can barely remember anything of the first days.   Just that sleep came easier. Sleep was all he did.   Dreamless sleeps, no more panic, no more being trapped in a tube tunnel trying to escape the train that descended closer and closer on him the faster he ran. 

None of that. 

Then one day a few weeks later he’d woken up and he’d walked from the bedroom into the small living room, next to the kitchen with the tea cosy shaped like a cockerel, the blue and white checked cookie jars, and the one concession to luxury, the range, which filled the space.

Zayn wasn’t anywhere to be seen and as Liam had glanced at the small clock on the side table in the corner of the living room, he’d realised he was probably out buying bread, buying groceries from the village 30 minutes down the road. 

He’d walked to the front door, opened it and stepped outside and the sun was shining through the trees and he’d breathed in the air, the freshest air you could imagine, no bus fumes, no cloying aftershave, no raised voices, no tannoy systems intruding on his need for quiet, nothing.  Just the smell of pine and the sound of birds.  

And he realised then.  Despite the fact that it was all so new.  He knew.  His mind was made up, and so he’d stepped back into the cottage, reached for his jacket, and slipped on a pair of shoes that might have been his, might have been Zayn’s and he’d grabbed the keys from the side, and shut the door behind him.

And he set foot along the path that he somehow remembered from the 8th day after they got here when Zayn had coaxed Liam out of bed, dressed him and guided him outside, and they’d walked for what felt like miles, till Liam’s calf muscles felt like they’d explode.

Just along a path, the one way in, the one way out where once you walked past all the trees, and just before you found the nearest village, you walked past a river. 

Zayn had bought some French bread, and then he’d bought some pasta and some minced beef and some garlic cloves, and other stuff Liam had lost track off and then they’d turned round to walk home.

Those weeks later when Liam walked along the path on his own, he realised that he wasn’t walking with his head down anymore, he walked with it held high, and he’d seen Zayn before Zayn could see him swinging the shopping bag and whistling, looking for all the world like a teenager rather than this man Liam loved with all his soul. 

The words had come out of Liam’s mouth before he could stop them. 

“I don’t think we should go back, I mean I don’t want to go back, not there, not anywhere, just,”  he’d bowed his head then, stopped and expected Zayn to be concerned, to grab his hand and drag him back to the cottage and mutter about calling the doctor. 

To say they’d talk about it when everything was clearer, when Liam was ‘himself’ again.

Instead he’d heard.

“Okay, I’ll make a few enquiries and we’ll decide whether to let or sell the apartment, and yeah we’ll make a go of it,”  Zayn’s hand had found its way to Liam’s then and it squeezed it, gently, so carefully like Liam was made of glass.

And then they’d carried on walking in silence till they were 2 minutes away from the cottage and Zayn said softly.  “We won’t just make a go of it either, we’ll make this work Li, you and me.”

Liam had wondered then, if Zayn was put on this earth just to constantly make Liam re-evaluate how much love he could feel for another person.

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UNDER THE CUT YOU'LL FIND MANY MANY DRUNK TWEET/STARTERS THAT YOU CAN USE IF YOUR CHARACTER IS DRUNK AND YOU HAVE NO CLUE WHAT TO SAY IN ORDER TO MAKE PEOPLE BELIEVE YOU'RE IN FACT DRUNK. I KNOW THAT MOST PEOPLE KNOW EXACTLY HOW TO PLAY DRUNK, BUT THESE ARE JUST SOME FUNNY STARTERS THAT I PICKED UP. SOME OF THEM CAN BE A BIT OFFENSIVE, BUT IF YOUR CHARACTER IS A BITCH/DICK, THEY'RE ALSO PERFECT FOR THAT PERSONA. FEEL FREE TO USE THEM AND PLEASE LIKE THE POST IF THIS HELPED YOU IN ANY WAY!

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colors pt. I || jinhwan
  • notes : the third of the halsey songs x ikon series thing is finally here! Please bear with me because I’m back in school and it’s exams season, but I will do the rest of the members & their scenarios soon! Thank you for being patient / reading!! ((:
  • genre: angst angst angst
  • warnings : no warnings with this one but it’s kinda sad if you really think about it js / plus it’s kinda long
  • read pt. II here!!

Originally posted by hwan-tastic

You’re ripped at every edge, but you’re a masterpiece x

         The first time you had noticed him? Ah, what a good question that is. Would it be too cliché to say that the day you noticed him happened to be the very first day?

           Well, despite what anyone may think of such an answer, the truth is that you had been well aware of Jinhwan ever since the first day you stepped into that lecture hall. It was only the first day, but you were already feeling the new weight on your shoulders from the realization that you were in college now, and the one person you could depend on was yourself, and that’s it. That would be something you would come to realize time and time again throughout your whole experience.

           “Everyone, please take a sit as quickly as possible,” you heard the professor say from somewhere in the front. With a deep breath, you managed to steal a seat in the back; sitting in the front had never been so ideal to you since middle school.

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Rae and Finn in bed. Both asleep. She’s frowning, shaking head from right to left, faster and faster, she sarts saying something.

 

-         No, no, no ! Please don’t be ! I’m sorry ! NO PLEASE !

 

She stood up, sweating, short on breathe, almost suffocating. Count to ten, just count to ten.

Staring to settle she remembered where she was, and realised he now was up too, his hand on hers. It was pitch dark but she could feel his glance. Maybe if i just lay back in he won’t ask.

 

-         Rae ? Everything’s fine ?

 

Of course he will. Fuck you Finn Nelson and your endless caring.

 

-         Yeah, i just…go back to sleep, i’m fine.

-         You sure ‘bout that?

-         Yep. You don’t have to worry, i swear.

-         Alright then..

 

They both lay down, his head right in the back of her neck. His breathe seems to soothe her. Not enough though. A tear drops from her eye, then a second, and another one. Soon, she finds herself sobbing. He passes his arm around her chest, holding tight to her hand, getting closer.

 

-         You know i can hear you cry right ?

-         ..I’m not crying, what d’ya mean ? I’m just… i think i might have a cold actually. Got any tissues ?

-         Yeah, on the bedside table next to ya.

-         Oh, thanks

 

She bends to the table, reaching for some tissues. He puts his head on her shoulder.

 

-         Were you having a nightmare ? D’ya want to talk ‘bout it ?  I know sometimes it helps to..

-         I’m okay Finn, seriously. Just go back to sleep, yeah ?

 

How could i even tell you about that ? Where would i start ? Why should i bring something like that when i’m finally being happy ?  Again, she lays down, spooning with him. When i have you by my side..

 

-         You…you don’t have to pretend with me … i don’t care if… i mean…

 

He writes something on her back, ending up kissing her neck. She smiles.

 

Few hours later. Sun barely creeping through the curtains. Rae opens her eyes.

 

-         Holy fucking shit !!!!

 

Finn frowns, still half asleep.

 

-         Shit, shit shit…Where is this fucking shoe ?

-         Always so lovely when you wake up or am i being lucky ?

 

Oh great, and now i’ve woken him. Again. Oh God, he’s even sexier with his hair messed up like this. Her eyes noticed the blanket was hardly covering his lower hip. If he wasn’t stark naked already, i would shred his clothes to pieces and just..Talking about clothes, where did this fucking shoe went for God sake ?!  He looks at her, covering herself with the sheet, furiously searching for her shoe under the mess of all their clothes covering the floor. A cheeky smile runs on his face.

 

-         Maybe you lost it downstairs. We were rushing a bit last night. Not that i’m complaining tho’

 

She laughs.

 

-         Yeah, better check downstairs. Nevermind if i use the barthroom ?

-         Nope. Was it so bad ?

-         What ? What are you talking about ?

-         Dunno, seems like you’re basically running away.

-         Oh. No, no, no, i’m not. My mom’s gonna kill me if she wakes up and finds i’m not home. Told you i shouldn’t have stayed. I overslept.

-         At least i make a good pillow then. Can pillow ask for a kiss ?

 

Rae comes back to him, still covered by the sheet, she sats down and gives him a long kiss. I  never want to leave his lips. But i’m surely never kissing them again if i’m dead. Better go now.

 

- Sorry dear pillow, sheet and i have to go.

- Give me a ring later, just so i know neither of you are dead.

 

They smiled and she rushed to the bathroom as he put his head back under the blanket.

 

 

Rae’s silently closing the front door, looking at the clock. Maybe mom’s not up yet, i’m just gonna sneak into my room, right into my bed..You can do it Rae, yeah, almost there. Stop breathing. Slowly open the door. Here we…

 

-         Mom ? I’m so fucked.

-         Will you please follow me downstairs Rae ?

-         Mom, i’m sor..

-         Downstairs.NOW.

 

They both walked to the kitchen without saying a word.

 

-         Take a sit.

-         Mom..

-         Don’t.

-         But..

-         WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ?! Out to get wasted again ? Thought we already went through it Rae. I forgave you once, not twice, you’ve been warned.

-         I..i wasn’t getting drunk or anything, i..

-         Where have you been all nigth then ?

-         Was with some friends.

-         Oh yeah, same friends as last time ? Will you ever learn ?

-         No, not them. They weren’t friends anyway. 

-         I know you weren’t at Chloe’s, i called her parents.

-         In the middle of the night ?

-         Well, my daughter was missing, what did you expect?

-         …

-         So, not Chloe. And if you were at the pub you wouldn’t be so secret about it. Don’t make me ask again Rae, i’m losing control.

-         Alright ! I was at Finn’s !

 

Linda looked confused and yet, rassured, somehow.

 

-         Are you lying again ?

-         No. You can call him if you want.

-         I sure will. Did his father knew you stayed at his ?

-         Of course.

-         He has no clue right ?

-         … He’s away for a few days.

-         And why exactly did you… Are you and Finn together again ?

-         What do you mean “again”?

-         I may be blonde but i’m not that stupid Rae. So ?

-         Yes.

-         Great. Glad for you. He’s a good guy.

 

I never tought mom would be so cool about it. Maybe she realised i’m not a child anymore. Maybe she’s gonna leave me some space. Maybe i could ask her to stay at Finn’s ‘till his father come back. That would be perfect. Just me and him, for a few days. Kissing and..

 

-         Now you’re going to your room and you will stay in there until i decide otherwise. No more pub. No more gang. No more Finn.

-         WHAT ? You can’t do this to me !

-         I told you never to do that again. And you did anyway.

-         But…

-         Rae, you know it : as long as you live under my roof, you live

-         Under your rules. Got it.  Can i ask you a favor tho’ ?

-         Do you really think you’re in a position to ask for anything?

-         I have to call Finn, just once. To let him know i’m not…to let him know i got home safely.

-         I’ll call him.

 

Rae’s room. She’s writing in her diary.

 

There was not point in arguing. As mom said, i wasn’t in the position to do it. Still, this decision was so unfair ! I mean, she couldn’t have done worse. No more Chloe, no more Archie, no more Izzy or Chop…NO MORE FINN ! And i couldn’t even call him ! I’m so mad at her right now. I understand. But i’m still mad.

Last night was perfect by the way…even more perfect than the other night. Remember how i described it as a sex-quake ? This was even better. What is more powerfull than a sex-quake? We agreed i would meet him at his to have this deep talk he desperatly want to have. He says he want to know everything i went trough. Anyway, as soon as he opened the door, the look he gave me made me want to do him right there, on the porch. He’s so hot, how is he even human? We managed to go inside eventually, and instantly forgot about the talk we were supposed to have. Feeling his body next to mine, his breathe on my neck, his hands all over my skin… Perfect.

That was until i woke up in the middle of the night. It keeps happening. I haven’t talked to Kester about it. I thought now that i fixed things with everyone, it would have stop. But it didn’t. It’s not just a nightmare. There is so much more to it. Much more that i can take.

————————————————————————————————

Let me know what you think, should i continue ?

Again, English ain’t my birth language, it’s the very 1st time i try and write a whole ‘story’ in this language so, sorry for all the grammar & vocabulary mistakes and everything.

Last Love Song (Joe Sugg Imagine) - requested

Last Love Song (requested)

phoebs-v-xo asked: Do you do song fics? If you do can you do a Joe imagine based on Last Love Song by ZZ Ward thank you xxxx

A/N: I reaaalllyyyyy want to apologise for not uploading in so long. I’ve honestly been so busy. Year 11 is not a good year, just saying. It is so stressful - with the coursework, homework and revision because exams are literally so close. But tbf, I don’t revise much but coursework takes up a lot of time…and procastination, haha.

Anyway, I am back with another request! Hope you enjoy this!

(P.S. I really had no idea what this song is about so, I just made it up from my own assumptions. Extremely sorry if it’s wrong! I tried.)

:)

—-

It had been 3 months since you and Joe broke up. After a year and a half together, you had ended it over the fact that you didn’t see a future in the relationship. You couldn’t see a future together. A future where you were married, had your own house to live in together, maybe even kids.

Sure you loved him, but maybe not enough to have a future together.

It’s a Sunday night and you were doing your usual routine of cleaning your apartment. You were jamming to your music on the speaker when one song came on that reminded you of Joe.

*FLASHBACK*

We were never the marrying type, oh no,
We won’t buy dishes or stained glass lights, oh no,
For a table we’ll never sit at,
In the house that we won’t ever get,

I won’t wake up and pick out your tie, oh no,
You won’t come home and kiss me at night, oh no,
We won’t lie in this king bed for two,
Say goodbye to us saying “I dos,”

“Do you see a future for us?” Joe had asked out of the blue as you both were cuddling on his couch. You stopped to think for a while.

Did you really see a future for you two? Could you see this going further than just boyfriend and girlfriend?

“Truthfully?” You had asked him. You felt him nod against the top of your head. “Truthfully…no, no I don’t.”

It was silent after that. For a good 15 minutes. You didn’t mind it; you both had a lot to think about.

“Why are we together?” Joe had whispered. That broke the silence. You didn’t know what to reply, so you just shrugged. You felt Joe pull away from you and you sat up straight and turned to face him.

The look on Joe’s face was enough to make you want to die. His eyes glazed over with tears and you tried so hard not to break down. You could see the pain and the sadness in his eyes and you thought to yourself,

Is this how I make him feel?

You didn’t like it. Being the reason Joe was so upset and hurt.

“Joe…” You whispered. “Please don’t cry, you told me to be honest and I am. I honestly can’t see a future together. I can’t see us getting married. I can’t see us buying dishes or lights or furniture for a house that I can’t even see us buying! I can’t see me waking up in the morning and helping you pick out a tie for work. I can’t see you coming home at night and kissing me goodnight in a king size bed for two. I can’t see any of that. And please, please, don’t blame yourself. You were the best I could ever dream of but…I just can’t see a future. I’m so sorry, Joe,” you said, tears threatening to appear. You ran a hand through your hair and looked down at your lap. You heard sniffling come from Joe and you quickly looked up. You saw a tear run down his cheek and your eyes started to glaze over even more.

No more white picket fences,
No more lace veils or vows,
No more “You’re the only one” ‘cause that’s all done with now,
This is the last love song I’ll ever write for you,
This is the last love song I’ll ever write for you,

“Please, Joe, don’t…” You mumbled.

“Sorry, sorry, I just…god, I’m sorry,” he quickly rambled as he wiped the tears away. You grabbed his hand and just held it.

“I honestly am sorry, Joe. I know how much you want all this, but…” You took a deep breath. “I just can’t be that person for you. Not now, anyway.”

“It’s fine, Y/N. I understand,” he whispered, looking down at your entwined hands.

It was silent again. This time only for a minute or two.

“So…” Joe started. “What’s going to happen now?” You shrugged again.

“I don’t want to lead you on, anymore,” you said. “I think…” you took a short pause. “I think it’s time we broke up.” He nodded, understanding completely. Tears fell from both yours and Joe’s eyes as you both looked at your hands.

“I’m going to get my stuff,” you whispered after a few minutes of silence. You pulled your hand away from Joe’s and went downstairs to gather up your stuff.

—-

Once you got back upstairs with all your stuff, you saw Joe hadn’t moved. He was still sat on the couch, twiddling his thumbs. He must’ve heard you coming because once you got to the door, he shot up and came and stood in front of you.

“This is it,” you said, smiling softly. Tears still falling down your face as Joe nodded.

“Yep,” he answered. “One last for the road?” He asked, a short smile on his face. You chuckled, lightly as you got on your tiptoes and pecked his lips.

“One last for the road,” you responded after pulling away. You wiped a stray tear from his cheek and smiled. You opened the front door and left, bags in hand.

Take these roses and this Jameson, oh no,
Find a subway that I can sit in, oh no,
Buy a one-way out of this city,
Everything that I need, got it with me,

You sat on the train, your headphones in and your head rested against the window. It was raining that day. The raindrops plummeted against the window. It didn’t bother you though; you liked it. You liked watching each drop race down the window.

All your stuff was neatly packed between your legs. Literally everything you owned that was at Joe’s place.

Something wet trickled down your cheek as you thought of Joe, and you quickly wiped the tear away.

No more white picket fences,
No more lace veils or vows,
No more “You’re the only one” ‘cause that’s all done with now,
This is the last love song I’ll ever write for you,
This is the last love song I’ll ever write for you,

*END OF FLASHBACK*

All these notes and all these words,
Are all that’s left in me,
Bend these pages, count my woes,
One last song to set me free,

You stood in the middle of your living room, duster in hand and thinking about what you and Joe once were. And thinking about what Joe is up to now.

Did he find someone? Someone who can love him and give him everything he deserves? Someone he can call his truly? Someone that wasn’t you.

As you were stood there, you started thinking.

You haven’t actually completely moved on. Your mind had always found a way to go back to Joe. And that wasn’t good. You had to move on. Once and for all.

You dropped everything at task and made your way to your study room. You sat at your desk and pulled out a note pad and pen.

You decided that a best way to get over him was to write a letter. Sure, it didn’t have to be sent to him, but at least it was a way for all your thoughts and feelings to be let out. Maybe if all your feelings were let out onto a piece of paper, it would lift a weight off your shoulders.

And it did.

After pouring all your thoughts and feelings out, you sat back in your chair and sighed. You folded the piece of paper marked 'Joe’ and locked it away in the bottom draw of your desk.

No more white picket fences,
No more lace veils or vows,
No more “You’re the only one” 'cause that’s all done with now,
This is the last love song I’ll ever write for you,
This is the last love song I’ll ever write for you,
This is the last love song I’ll ever write for you,
This is the last love song I’ll ever write for you, oh.

1-sentence fics: part one (25/50)

I don’t really have time to write like I should, but I want to write something, so have some one-sentence fics. We used to do these all the time back with LJ was a thing.

NYC crew, Klaine, Samcedes, discussions of Finn’s death and past Finchel. Artie/Ladies. Rachel/Broadway. Liberal use of the word “sentence” and some of them are actually 2-3 but whatevs who’s judging.

part two

#01 – Comfort

Kurt doesn’t believe in God, or in any higher power, really, but he does believe that his good fortune in the weeks before Finn’s death—finding out his Dad was cancer-free, Blaine’s proposal, his friendships with Elliot and Dani, forming the band—was someone’s way of saying here, don’t forget–there can be joy in your life as well.

#02 – Kiss

Kurt and Blaine kiss more here, Rachel thinks, and Sam and Mercedes are always on top of each other, and she’s not alone she knows but sometimes she watches them, and feels lonely.

#03 – Soft

Blaine fenced in middle school, and he boxed at Dalton, and he was a cheerleader at McKinley for christ’s sake, but he pokes at the gentle growing roundness of his stomach nowadays, and thinks when did I get so soft?

#04 – Pain

It’s amazing, Artie thinks, but chlamydia doesn’t hurt, and he would have never known he had it if he hadn't—if he hadn’t gone with the other boys: he owes them, now.

#05 – Potatoes

It’s her turn to make Monday Night Dinner, and she sees Kurt groan when she pulls dinner out of the oven. “Mercedes, please tell me that’s not an entire pan full of just tater tots–” “It’s a casserole!”

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What are we doing? -Part 5 (Luke)

So I wasn’t planning on writing another part to this series but I got a lot of requests for a part 5 so here it is!! I hope you all like it! 

(also sorry it took so damn long) 

Part 1 

Part 2 

Part 3 

Part 4

She opened her eyes slowly feeling the sun pour in through the window and on to her face. She felt his arms around her and her heart fluttered.

She rolled over to face him, lifting her hand to softly run her fingers through his hair. He scrunched up his face before opening his eyes.

“Hi” she whispered.

He was smiling immediatly, “You’re here.. I didn’t want to wake up incase..”

“It wasn’t a dream Luke, I’m not going anywhere if you don’t want me to.”

He leaned in to kiss her, pulling her even closer. “So this is real?” he asked.

“This is very real” she assured him.

He kissed her again pulling her ontop of him. They stayed like this for a while before she finally pulled away. Sitting up and straddling his waist.

“What?” he asked seeing the concern on her face.

“I just don’t want this to change anything… I don’t want things to be different with the rest of the guys”

Luke laughed lightly, “They’re not like that .. we’re just going to have to suffer some abuse from them for a while when they find out”

She bit her lip.

“What?” he asked

“They kind of already know.. not the full extent of it but that we’ve been hooking up.”

Luke raised an eyebrow, “How?”

“This is really embaressing but Cal told me that he can hear everything through the wall, everything.” she cringed when she said her last word.

Luke was laughing hysterically now, “You are pretty loud when your moaning my name.”

She ran her hand down her face still embaressed before she took the pillow out from under his head and hit him with it.

He flipped her over so he was on top of her now, with his face just inches away from hers. “Whats wrong? You know you love every second of it.”

“I do,” she agreed trying to slide out from under him, “its like three in the afternoon we should go give them a heads up.”

“Or we could just stay here” he raised his eyebrows.

She laughed still trying his wiggle out of his grasp, “You know that once we tell them we can do whatever we want, whenever we want .. you know instead of sneaking around in the middle of the night,” she bit her bottem lip and repeated herself more slowly, “Whenever we want.”

Apparently Luke got the message. He finally released her, allowing her to sit up properly.

“So how are we going to tell them?” Luke asked as he pulled his shirt over his head.

She shrugged he shoulders, “I don’t know .. I guess well just wing it” she laughed, “Let just get it over with so we can go get in your bed.”

“Yea fuck this room” he laughed.

They walked together down the hall and the stairs to the living room where the rest of the guys were sitting, eating and watching t.v.

Luke walked in first. When Mikey saw them he began clapping, which got Calum and Ashtons attention and they began to clap as well, laughing hysterically.

She hid behind Luke’s broad shoulders and he began laughing now too, forcing her to move out from behind him.

“WELL CONGRADULATIONS!” Mikey announnced sarcastically.

“Seriously,” Calum agreed “it took you guys long enough, jesus.”

Luke chuckled, “So you guys knew this whole time? and didn’t say anything to either of us?”

“Ughh,” Mikey groaned, “it was painful to watch.”

“For real,” Aston spoke up, “neither of you are very sneaky.. your always staring at eachother and touching eachother we all knew something was up.”

“Yea, and then Calum heard you fucking.” Michael added.

She turned to hide her face in Lukes shirt so she didn’t have to look at them. Luke wasn’t having it though, “Nope,” he said to her taking a step back, “Your suffering through this with me.” he laughed, obviously feeling less embaressed.

“So when’s the wedding?” Ashton asked laughing now.

“Are you going to name your first born after me?” Mikey threw in.

“What about me?” Cal asked, “I get to be the god father right?”

She started laughing finally. They were still the same, her relationship with Luke really wasn’t going to effect her friendship with the guys.

“I literally hate you guys!” she whined

“Okay well now that thats over with, were going back upstairs” Luke announced winking at her.

The rest of the guys groaned. “God, put on some music or something so we don’t have to hear it at least” Michael complained.

“Yea seriously! And maybe pull the bed away from the wall between our rooms?” Cal called behind to Luke as they walked back up the stairs.

She closed the door behind her when they got into Luke’s room. Right away Luke’s lips were on hers, kissing her intensly as they began ripping off each others clothes.

He lifted her up carrying her to his bed as he pressed his lips against her neck and collar bones.

“Well, that went well” she laughed before he climbed on top of her.

As always THANKS FOR READING ..it makes me so excited that people actually read what i write the fact that the first part of this series got like 200 notes was crazy for me!! I hope you like the way I ended it and got more closure then the way I left it at the end of part 4 .. 

I have another Luke series in mind after I do some requests so watch out Luke girls I’m really excited to write it!! 

Feel free to drop any requests in my ask and check out my .:Masterlist:. for some other stuff if you liked this!! 

Have a beautiful night fam !!!!

Where You Are

This was meant to be my contribution towards a sherlolly headcanon but I sort of just kept writing :)

———-

Nowadays, Sherlock gets annoyed that Molly’s place is referred to as a ‘bolt hole’. John and Mary call it that. And, so does Lestrade. They make it sound like a nondescript halfway house with dank walls and a dirty, stripped mattress on a wire frame. He finds that he doesn’t like it one bit.

Because, Molly’s is the next best thing to 221b. (Maybe it’s better, he sometimes thinks.) It’s too quiet there. Too hollow. Which is very sad because he’s very attached to this flat with its fleur-de-lis wallpaper and well-worn chairs. While Molly’s place is always slightly chaotic with her fluffy, patterned everythings and the background music she sometimes shakes her hips to for a few moments when a song gets to a part that she likes. There’s all manner of books and journals everywhere along with handmade cushions and pillows and colorful throws on her plush sofa. He’ll never admit it, not even upon the threat of torture, but he likes the ridiculously large LED 1080p telly that she splurged half a pay cheque on.

Her place used to be a bit of a headache to tell you the truth. He’s not sure when it became something else and he’s not sure what that something else is. But, it’s definitely not just a ‘bolt hole’.

He’s not even really there that often. Just when he’s bored (never because he’s lonely, of course). Or, when he can’t sleep. Or, when he can’t figure out a case. Or…

Well, he finds that wants to be at her flat because he misses her laugh, the way she always makes him the best things to eat even in the middle of the night, how she thinks up interesting experiments to do with the parts she brings back from the morgue and the way she always says she’s just resting her eyes but falls asleep next to him on the sofa without fail.

The shift is gradual and he can handle that. He’s pretty sure that Molly enjoys his company as well and she only mildly protests when he lets himself in and wakes her up in the middle of the night to watch a new documentary he got on ancient Egyptian embalming techniques or something like that. Besides, that lovely sofa of hers is a pull-out bed anyway and he always sets it up before he goes to drag her over to it from her warm bed. He doesn’t really even mind that she usually just falls asleep using his arm as her pillow.

When Molly covers the late shift for a month because her colleague goes on a sabbatical, Sherlock gets antsy not being able to spend time with her. He finds that he is unable to sleep without seeing her or having her nearby. It is not a welcome revelation.

It gets to the point where he becomes snappish and irritable. When Molly has had enough of his boorish attitude she tells him to just go to his bolt hole (her place) and chill the fuck out. It is then that he blurts out that he only goes there to see her. He is upset that she didn’t know or deduce this fact herself. He is upset that she never asks to come to Baker Street. That she never just shows up on a whim to see him. That she might simply need to know that he was still there and okay. His mouth runs until he is spent and then he storms off without letting her get a word in edgewise.

Molly doesn’t see Sherlock at all in the two remaining weeks of her night shifts. But, she does notice a few things at home… a new pair of fluffy bunny slippers, a scratching post for Toby, a man’s silk robe hanging next to a new matching lady’s robe, and various groceries being replenished like her favorite juice that she drinks every morning.

On the last day of her set, she returns home in the early morning ready to shower and sleep. But, there’s something new on her kitchen table. It’s a set of keys on a keychain with a charm of a kitten in a cherry sweater. She knows exactly who has left it for her and where the locks for these keys lie. It’s the man that she can’t remember ever not loving and the man that seems to have established a serious relationship with her without much input or effort on her part.

Molly knows that Sherlock is a man of few words when it comes to the inner workings of the human heart. It is a conundrum because under any other circumstances Sherlock certainly seems to like the sound of his own voice. She’s not sure she’ll give him a get out of jail free card in this instance.

When she trudges up to her room, she finds that there is already someone occupying her bed. The sheets are completely twisted up by the person having an obviously fitful sleep. By the time she’s finished cleaning up for bed, the sun is already starting to rise, but she feels like she hasn’t slept properly in weeks so she’s going to just sleep until she feels like waking up.

Unfortunately, Sherlock is very good at taking up as much space as he can when he sleeps. Molly decides that he can be the little spoon today. She curls in around him as gently as she can so he won’t wake. He doesn’t stir when she carefully brushes the unruly, dark curls away from his face.

When she’s finally slept enough, she wakes to find that Sherlock has left. The keys he’s left her have been placed on her bedside table. It is obviously an invitation for her to come to Baker Street.

It is late afternoon. Sherlock watches the street from his window as he waits. His violin, abandoned due to
his lack of concentration, sits nearby. Molly has chosen to walk since summer is at its end and the leaves are getting ready to change. Both of them, individually, recognize that like the seasons something has changed in their lives. Something that needs to change and should change.

The keys jingle in her pocket as Molly reaches in to retrieve them. She feels a flutter in her belly, but she smiles happily as she lets herself in.

——-
(Should I write more?)
Thanks for reading!