#SherlockLives: The Resurrection

The day is April 23rd, 2017.  It’s an ordinary Sunday afternoon in London.

The crowd bustles, trains whirr, birds chirp.

Life in the city is business as usual.

Three teenage girls take photographs outside 187 North Gower Street, soaking in the ambiance of the Sherlock set.  They step into Speedy’s for a cup of coffee.

The women lament over the loss of their favorite show. On March 8th, the BBC announced Sherlock would not be returning for a fifth series, and cowriters Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss were quick to assure their fans that it was time to lay the beloved program to rest.

But what the women saw next changed their lives forever.

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Gifs not mine.

A/N: Thank you for the prompt ideas @thestrawberryblondehobbitbatch. xxx

Warnings: minor swearing.

The only thing that you needed right now was a hug. But could you get one? No. You had an endless list of places you would rather be. You did not like this forensic conference. Normally, you enjoyed your job but the last few months had been hard. Firstly, you had received a promotion that everyone was dying to get so it was understandable that people would be jealous. However, people gave you dirty looks constantly and you was sure that people were speaking about you behind your back. Some gave you horrible comments to your face. You often worked closely with Molly Hooper however she wasn’t in the meeting. She was on holiday. You had massive amounts of paperwork or just work in general and you often found yourself doing other people’s. You were sick of it.



You were all gathered round a table while your boss was at the front giving the presentation. You longed to be in Sherlock’s arms however you knew that would not happen. He was always to engrossed in his work and often felt like he didn’t need any company. You knew that dating Sherlock would mean that there wasn’t a lot of physical affection but you did want it occasionally. You knew he wouldn’t understand though so you didn’t mention it. He probably wouldn’t listen anyway. Your boss was droning on about work ethic, the new technology that would be used, etcetera. You felt isolated. Apart from your boss, no one else liked you in that room. You missed Molly. She was normally sat next to you keeping you sane. It was killing you.



Time seemed to have slowed down and you found yourself staring at the clock more frequently as you began to become desperate to leave. It appeared that everyone else became bored as well as they brought their attention to you. Like per usual, you began to get glares from them and you could hear whispers when your boss was not paying attention. Normally, you could deal with it but some days it just really hurt. Today was one of those days. You’d bottled it up all day so when the meeting finally ended, you excused yourself from a conversation with your boss and ran to the bathroom where you balled your eyes out. Luckily, no one else was in there to hear you cry. After wiping your tears away, you left. The bad day didn’t end there. Some of the tube lines were closed for maintenance so you got the bus as you knew the Underground would be packed. You waited for the bus but your oyster card had no money on once you finally got on the bus so you ended up walking a long way back to Baker Street. It began to rain and you didn’t bring a coat considering it had been a warm summer day. You hadn’t brought an umbrella either because you’d been so busy that you didn’t see the recent weather warnings. It was rush hour so the streets were jam packed. You shoes were not fit for walking longer distances so your feet were killing you. You just wanted to be home.



Sherlock just glanced over at you before returning to his violin when you walked in. This really annoyed you but you knew it was best not to argue. You dried off and changed in your pyjamas. You walked back into the living room.

You opened your mouth to speak but Sherlock spoke before you did. “No,” He said. “I won’t hug you. I’m too busy.”

You predicted he’d say something like that. “Well it would be nice if you cared for once.”

“I do. I’m just busy.”

“Well you don’t look like it.”

“I am. I don’t always have to hug you when you ask.”

“I never ask!” You exploded. You were letting all of your anger out as rage built up inside you. “It’s just a cuddle and you hardly ever show physical affection! I know you don’t like it much but it would be nice for once. You never take my feelings into consideration anyway! You’re always stuck up your own arse and your work always comes first. My day has been shit but you don’t care! You’ve probably noticed that I’ve come home from work upset for the last three months, because you are Sherlock fucking Holmes, but have you asked me about it? No. Would you listen if I told you? No! But do I listen to all your rants over petty things like John occasionally not listening to you? Yes! I never ask for anything off of you so just a hug would be nice!” You stormed into your shared bedroom before he could reply. You threw yourself down onto the bed and laid on your side. After the events of the today, you needed a rest.



Around ten minutes later, you felt a weight next to you on the bed and arms wrapping around you. The body then pressed itself close to you.

“I’m sorry,” Sherlock mumbled.

You sighed. “Just because I yelled at you-”

“No I’m not hugging you out of sympathy. I want to. I genuinely am sorry.”

“I can’t believe that the famous Sherlock Holmes is apologising.” You smiled.

“Don’t take it for granted.” He sighed. “I do listen to you and I definitely noticed you had been upset. I deduced that your co-workers (with the exception of Molly) had upset you so I went and spoke to them about it. They obviously ignored me. I was going to ask again however I did not want to pry into your business as you scolded me about that beforehand.”

“I’m sorry for yelling.”

“I don’t mind." You fell asleep in his arms peacefully and he fell asleep soon after. You may not be the most perfect couple but who cares about perfection?

Perfect Love — [Dan and Phil One Shot]

Prompt: “dan being late for work or something, racing into the train station, running into phil, falling onto the ground with him, falling in love with the guy below him, and then he tries to run into him every day, getting to know him more and more, as he drops his stuff every day. one day he’s not there, but his business card is, and he decides to visit him.”

Pairing: Dan Howell and Phil Lester.

Word Count: 2,169.

Warnings: Minor angst, swearing.

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Sherlock x Reader: Crying

Originally posted by benedictc


Gif not mine.

All you had to do was pick up the tissues and get into your room without being noticed by Sherlock, who was at the kitchen table looking into his microscope. Luckily, Mrs Hudson and John were not in so you didn’t have to talk to them. You loved the pair of them dearly however now wasn’t the best time to speak to them. Today was an off day to you. You woke up not in the best of spirits. Nothing had triggered your bad mood, it was just one of those days. Work had been a bummer too. You had been given a lot of paperwork by your boss and your co-workers had not been pleasant to you. You had left your oyster card at home so you couldn’t catch the bus or tube. You had to walk back to the flat. Normally, you wouldn’t mind a walk but it was raining hard. You just broke down when you got to the door of the flat but had wiped away your tears as you climbed the stairs into the living room of 221B. Sherlock was engrossed in his work so you thought that he would not notice you because he normally does not when he is working. Oh how wrong you were.


“Y/N,” Sherlock said. “I’ve found out what poison…” He trailed off when he saw tears in your eyes as you picked up the box of tissues from the coffee table. “You’ve had a bad day. You tried to sneak in without me noticing your arrival. You had been gloomy this morning so your bad mood had starting this morning. Also, you were happy yesterday evening so nothing big had triggered this. Your mood has worsened throughout the day.” You cried after your boyfriend had finished his deduction. You were tired, drenched by the rain, and you just were not feeling up to anything. Sherlock cocked his head slightly. He had seen you cry before however it was not as bad as this. You were normally bright and happy whereas today you had just completely broke down in front of him. He could tell you felt weak and that you did not want to cry in front of him but you did. Sherlock himself felt a bit disappointed that you were scared to weep in front of him because he was your boyfriend. However he knew that he wasn’t the best person when it came to comforting crying women. He stood up and walked over to you. He wrapped his arms around you and you cried into his shoulder.


You found yourself lying in Sherlock’s arms on the sofa while he absentmindedly played with your hair. You were both drifting off to sleep when John walked through the door.

“Oh sorry!” He exclaimed. “I’ve woken you up! Um… tea?”

“Please,” You replied smiling. Sherlock had fallen asleep. Your mood had definitely lifted though.

anonymous asked:

Your husband is out on a satirday night and you're home alone lmao

Ya know, I got this and I thought I’d wait until tonight to answer… but I don’t want to taint my Sexy Saturday time with you so here goes how I rip you a new asshole.

When I wake up in the morning next to my best friend of 10 years, partner of 8 years, and husband of 5 years, I REALLY don’t think “Wow I wonder how anons on the internet would want to poke holes into our relationship.” I actually think “Shit I am so lucky to have found you.”

My husband and I have been through thick and thin. We’ve been poor enough to snatch free bread rolls at the work canteen to be able to eat dinner that night, walk miles to avoid using our Oyster cards, plan our expenses to the last penny,  and we are now stable enough to consider custom building our own house. I’ve lost my job, he’s lost his job. I’ve had deaths in the family, so has he. We’ve moved across continents together with the promise to strengthen our bond. We’ve suffered surgeries for him and a miscarriage for me.

He is a smart man who works incredibly long hours at a stressful high-pressure environment, he makes the cash that makes our lives so comfortable, he loves me, he demonstrates it every fucking day with words and gestures, and if he fucking wants to go out to meet a friend for a beer and a baseball game… So what. That’s what, 4 hours of my weekend? Honey go get a beer and relax. You’ve earned it.

Tomorrow morning I’ll wake up when he brings me coffee in bed (that’s what he does on Sundays, btw. Every sunday for as long as we’ve slept next to each other), I’ll get laid, go outside for a hike with my dogs, and spend the rest of Sunday probably reading books next to each other, or I’ll be writing and he’ll be practicing his hobby, and then we’ll cook dinner together and go to bed content.

Now tell me, do you think I give a shit about what you think of my relationship?

Originally posted by moonsafari8

faintest wisp of smoke

summary: dan goes missing and phil is left with the broken pieces.

note: idk what to think of this, i really don’t. it’s probably the least original thing i’ve ever written, but then again, it definitely went places i didn’t expect. i swear i was just trying to mess around with this one, but then… well. 7k words.

a fair warning: i don’t know if it’s good. i don’t know if it’s interesting, or if it works, or if it’s done characteristically. i only know it’s a study in overdone clichés and i hope it makes some sort of sense.




The clock ticks the time away, and Phil stares because he’s not sure if he believes it. The hands say it’s been two hours since the door closed after Dan when he went to the shop, but Phil knows very well that the shop is only ten minutes away, and he thinks that the clock must be lying but he doesn’t check the one on his phone because clocks aren’t people and only people lie, and if the clock isn’t lying Phil doesn’t want to know.

Dan left his mobile plugged to the charger and Phil listens to the ring echo through the flat and doesn’t hang up, even when he can hear the ringtone and knows Dan won’t be picking up, even when it reaches voicemail and Dan’s recorded voice tells him to leave a message and Phil wants to ask where he is but knows he won’t get an answer. 

He lets the phone drop to his side and tells himself to stop thinking about it, because he’s not Dan, who thinks problems over so much they turn themselves into a different problem that never existed in the first place – he’s Phil, and Phil doesn’t think problems over at all and pretends that it makes them fade into the shadows of the wallpapers even when he knows it doesn’t.

He doesn’t know if it’s better, but it’s all he has.

He falls asleep on the sofa in the lounge, and it’s two in the morning and Dan’s been gone for five hours, and Phil dreams of shadows and fear.

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You’re not woke if your opal/myki/metrocard/Oyster card has more than $20 balance on it at any one time because you’re too attached to the earth and not ready to let go of material existence

anonymous asked:

Love your work!!! And navigating in @doctorroseprompts I saw a post about "five word prompts". Knowing your fics and sharing your love for Rose and Tentoo, there were two that I immediately thought of you: “so… what are we now?” and “why do I love you?”. Anyway, I was wondering if you might be interested in this. I know I would read, for sure! :)

Here ya go, Nonny! Hope you like it!! 

Rose Tyler’s No Good Very Bad Day

By Skyler10

Summary: Rose starts out having a terrible day at work, but by the end, her Doctor has the perfect remedy. One month post-JE. 

Notes: from the Five Word Prompts list here @doctorroseprompts

Read on Ao3 here.

Hot tears rolled down Rose Tyler’s face as she hid behind the filing cabinet in her office at Torchwood One, blocked from view from the door except for two pink Converse trainers sticking out. She tucked her knees up to her chest as another cramp rolled through her gut. How long before the damn pain killer kicks in? she grumbled to herself.

Everything today was wrong. She’d been on her period for a few days but today was Big Emotions Day. And boy, did her hormones have it out for her. First, there was the case of the missing Oyster card. Then when the Doctor found it, he’d looked so smart-arse about it, she hadn’t even thanked him. Second, she’d spilled hot coffee all over her new blouse (which he hadn’t noticed was especially low-cut, despite her hopes that it would catch his eye). Then, after an assortment of technology malfunctions and miscommunications, they’d been called out on a mission, which, of course, had her running and grimacing and being told to “keep up or we’re going to lose them!” by no less than three of her teammates, including you-know-who.

He had flipped his sonic in the air with an “Ah ha!” as he got a successful reading for where their pursuit would end. They made their way down the city street and each took their assigned posts.   Ten minutes into their stakeout later, a headache as well as cramps pounded Rose from the inside. She was dehydrated and couldn’t focus. If only she could reach the water bottle and meds in her supply pack… The slavers slipped right past Rose as she was distracted. She never even saw them until Jake shot a plasma net from his cannon and trapped them. Jake sent her a what the hell, Tyler? look before making the arrest and transporting them back to HQ. Failure ripped through her chest and taunted her aching brain.  

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Sleepy Bear

“You need to go to bed earlier. I always hear you pacing around at night!” I laughed looking at Dan through the camera.

“I’m a busy guy, Phil. Sometimes I can’t fall asleep, other times I’m fearing for my life because of demons,” Dan joked. “But that’s a good segway to introduce the Surgery! Hey Aled.”

“Hello boys,” Aled smiled sliding in between us.

“Could you tell us about your show tonight?” I asked handing over my microphone.

“Well, like Dan said, we’ll be talking about sleep issues. If you’re a person who has trouble sleeping at night, you can give us a call and talk to us about it,” Aled said eyeing Dan. “So why can’t you sleep, Dan?”

“I dunno,” Dan smiled, raising an eyebrow. “I just always freak myself out before bed so I’m just sat there clutching onto my duvet waiting until the sun rises.”

“Then you could call us! We’ll have a nice little chat about it.”

“Of course,” Dan nodded. “So that means don’t call for us anymore. All lines are going directly to the Surgery. Bye Aled.”

“Bye guys.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I hopped out of bed, got into some jeans, put some converse on (no socks), grabbed, ID, Oyster, bank card, phone, keys, jacket and was out. It took 5 minutes for me to be a the bus stop yelling at the bus to hurry up. I ended up being number 75!!!

I love this!! Larries all over Ldn stumbling out of the house is various states on undress to get tkts!!

And well done! I think there were only about 200 tkts available today (rest to comp winners internationally) so you are going to have an amazing time ❤️


Based on this question I saw somewhere, basically;
you and your soulmate get stuck together where you first touch for 24 hours. It could be a hug (be stuck in a hug for 24 hours) or you might accidentally brush arms and be stuck for 24 hours.

warnings; none really, some swearing and that’s about it.
if you enjoy, please reblog and remember my ask box is always open for prompts or idea or even just to chat!

words - 2k

—- DAN POV —-

It was snowing. Snowing, hard.
‘Fucking hell,’ I muttered under my breath, walking out into the cold and towards the subway. I pulled my jacket tighter around my body, trying to shrug off the cold that kept seeping through.
5 years. It had been 5 years since I had started looking for my soulmate - brushing against every stranger possible to see if we’d be stuck. and yet, nothing.
It was so frustrating. Knowing your soulmate could be anywhere - it could’ve been that person you moved out of the way for. Or that person you saw across a room, yet never got the chance to introduce yourself.

I pulled out my oyster card and scanned it against the machine. It beeped loudly and I rushed through, trying to avoid tripping over all the people around me. I rushed towards my platform to find that my train was just pulling up. I rushed towards the doors, quickly placing my foot between them to keep them open. A guy in front of me looked up, then quickly pulled open the door.
‘Thanks,’ I muttered. As I pushed past him into the carriage, I deliberately brushed arms with him. I tried not to show any disappointment as I slid past him.

Gripping the pole and steadying myself, I pulled out my phone. I had no games anyway, but it was certainly a way to make it look like I was completely engaged in something. Nobody tried to interest me in small talk or polite conversation so I figured my plan was working.
When I looked up, two girls were laughing loudly, and people were smiling at them. That’s when I saw that their arms were connected. One girl had tried to pull away, but she pulled the other girl with her. My heart started beating faster as I realised that they had just found their soul mates. each other. Some people laughed with them, others whispered congratulations.
I was glad when the train stopped and I arrived where I was meant to be - I was about to cry and I had to get off fast. I walked away from the pole and stepped out onto the platform, running towards the bathrooms.
I locked myself into a stall and leant against the door.
‘Why,’ I whispered, closing my eyes and breathing. ‘Why, why, why,’ I repeated.
I could feel the hot tears forming behind my eyes and I tried to talk myself out of it.
you’re fine.
I repeated in my head.
But it was no use - I was so frustrated, so annoyed, so mad at everything. Why hadn’t I found someone? Worse, what if I never found anyone? What If I was alone forever?
I heard someone else enter the bathroom so I cupped my hand over my mouth to stop myself from crying or breathing loudly.
Eventually I heard the door open and close again. and I took my hand off of my mouth and let out a deep breath.
I wiped my eyes and began to breathe normally again. Then I left the cubicle, walking to the sink and looking at myself in the mirror. I looked away again, avoiding eye contact with myself.
I stepped out into the busy underground and tried to avoid everyone. I climbed the stairs to the street above and walked to the place I was headed. Along the way, I saw a girl walking very slowly, on her phone. She obviously wasn’t watching, and she was pretty close to running into someone. I continued watching her, walking slowly behind her. I heard fast steps behind me and a guy flew past my face.
‘Sorry mate,’ He said quickly. He kept running, and accidentally brushed the girl too.
“Sorry,’ he said, going to run again. The girl was pulled forward with him. I stopped in my tracks.
‘No,’ I whispered.
The guys face broke out into a smile.
‘It’s you,’ he whispered.
‘And it’s you,’ she replied, cupping her free hand over her mouth. They shuffled awkwardly out of the path of people walking and sat down on a park bench, as well as they could being stuck together at such an awkward angle. I looked down at my feet again as I shuffled past them awkwardly, not wanting to cry again. I’d already let myself cry today, and I wasn’t going to do it again - it only made it seem more real.
I plugged in my earphones and placed on in my ear, turning it up loud and trying to ignore the pestering voice in my head.

The magazine pages are stuck together - the downside of reading at a takeaway coffee shop. My name still hadn’t been called and I was just looking at the magazines off to the side.
‘Dan,’ yelled the barista.
I made my way over, taking the warm coffee in my hands.
‘Thanks,’ I said to him.
‘No problem,’ he replied, going back to making coffees for everyone waiting in line.
I walked back out into the cold air and continued down the street, sipping my coffee every so often.
I continued down the street, finally getting to the library. I always came here when it was snowing - something to do, and a place to stay without having people shouting and being crude.
As I got to the door, I saw a tall boy standing. He had the library uniform on, so I quickly spoke to him.
‘Hi,’ I said. He looked up, and seemed kind of shocked. ‘Can I bring this in?’ I said, gesturing to my coffee.
The boy didn’t say anything, he just stood quietly and nodded a little nervously.
‘Thanks..’ I said, searching for his name tag. found it. ‘Phil,’

I settled into a lounge with a few books that I skimmed the back of and carried along with me. I placed the coffee on the floor next to my feet. I opened one of the books I had picked up.
I’d been reading for about 30 minutes when my legs began to fall asleep. I moved them quickly and closed my eyes in regret as I felt the coffee cup fall over. I looked down and the coffee had left a big mark on the carpet.
‘Shit,’ I whispered, picking up the coffee cup and sitting it next to me. I pushed myself off the lounge, grabbing the coffee and the books and walking towards the counter. on the way I dumped the three books on a small table.
‘Excuse me,’ I said to the lady behind the counter. She glanced up at me over her glasses.
‘Yes.’ she muttered. I tried not to sigh or roll my eyes at her rude behaviour.
‘Sorry, I just spilt a bit of coffee over there,’ I said, gesturing vaguely to the couch I had been sitting at.
‘Why did you even have coffee in here?’ she said, standing up and looking at me with a questioning look.
‘Oh -’ I said. ‘Someone said I could bring it in.’
‘Well, i’m not paying to have that stain removed. you have to.’ She said, walking out from behind the bench. She crossed her arms.
‘Uh,’ I said.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘who let you in, again?’
there was a dark side to her tone of voice. I didn’t want to rat out Phil, he had seemed pretty nervous.
She sighed.
‘Tell me, or get out of my library.’ she muttered.
‘Okay,’ I replied. ‘Bye,’ I turned to walk away but she placed her hand on my shoulder and pulled me back.
‘Was it Phil?’ she said, seeming desperate.
Slowly, I nodded.
‘Yeah, i think that was his name.’
‘PHIL!’ she shouted.
The boy wandered over. He looked really nervous. 
‘Yes?’ he said quietly. 
‘It’s your second day here and you’ve already screwed up three times. You know we don’t allow food or drink in here.’ 
‘I- i’m sorry. It was on my profile that I found it hard talking to people, you knew that.’ Phil said slowly and quietly.
‘Yeah,’ she scoffed. ‘what you listed as ‘social anxiety.’ Well, I wish I never hired you. If you can’t do a simple job right and get over your own fear of human interaction, you’re fired. it’s that simple,’ she said, and I could see his face flinching every time she insulted him. 
‘I said i’m sorry,’ he whispered and I could see a small tear flowing down his cheek. 
‘Look,’ I spoke up. ‘I spilt the coffee - i’ll pay. Just, let me write down my address, and you can send me the bill.’ 
‘Fine,’ spat the lady, handing me a piece of paper. I scribbled down my address. 
‘Phil, you’re still fired.’ She said quickly.
‘What?’ I spat. ‘No! I said i’d pay,’ 
‘You wouldn’t have to if Phil didn’t allow you in with the coffee in the first place.’  she replied. 
‘Fine, I won’t pay. Not unless you let Phil keep his job.’ 
‘I already have your address,’ She says, holding up the piece of paper and quickly shoving it in her pocket. 
I quickly turned on my heel, muttering a ‘sorry,’ to Phil as I walked past him and out into the street. 

I’d been walking for 3 minutes when I heard footsteps behind me. 
‘Hey,’ yelled a voice. I turned around to see Phil behind me, without a jacket and only the library uniform t-shirt. 
‘I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to get you fired,’ I said quickly.
‘It - it’s okay. It was my fault anyway.’ He replied, shivering.
‘Here,’ I said, quickly pulling of my jacket, leaving me in two layers of long sleeved shirts. I handed it to him. 
‘Thanks,’ he said, taking it from me.
‘Well,’ I said. ‘I’m out of coffee. Want to go somewhere warm?’ I asked. 
Phil nodded and walked a little behind me as I found my way to a small lunch cafe. 
I ordered another coffee and Phil muttered his order quietly to the waiter. 

‘I’m really sorry, again.’ I apologised. 
‘It’s fine. really, it was my fault. Plus she really wasn’t nice anyway. I would’ve cracked eventually, being stuck in a room with her 4 hours a day.’ He smiled a little. 
a different waiter to last time brought our coffees over. He smiled as he placed them on the table, and then walked away. 
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘I think you’ve got mine,’ I laughed, pushing Phils coffee towards him. He pushed mine towards me, and I wrapped my hand around it, accidentally brushing Phils finger. As I pulled my coffee towards me, Phils hand came with me. My heart started beating faster and Phil looked up at me quickly. I started laughing, and covered my mouth with my other hand. 
Phil smiled, laughing too. 
I lifted my hand up off of the coffee cup and Phils hand rose with me. 
‘We’re stuck,’ I said happily. 
‘We are,’ Phil laughed. I placed my hand back down on the table. 
‘You,’ I whispered. 
‘and you, too,’ he whispered to me.

We stood on the train, together. People smiled. at us. me. I had finally found my soulmate. and for the next 24 hours we talked about nothing other than us. And when I moved my hand away and it came away without Phils, I moved my hand straight back and slid my fingers in between his. He was sitting cross legged on my bed, in front of me. And I looked into his eyes, and he started right back.
‘I found you,’ we whispered in unison. 

and my hand slid up to his shoulder, and I moved closer. I moved so close so that our lips were centimetres apart, and Phil closed the gap between us, his lips on mine. and it was amazing. A lot better than I could’ve ever imagined - I had my soulmate, finally. 

‘I am so glad I found you,’ Phil whispered when we pulled apart. 
‘I am so glad you got me fired,’ he whispered. 

and that’s how I found my soulmate.

Sometimes I read Snowbaz fics and they are just so American
I don’t think people realise how different the UK is to the USA
I mean they live in South East England, a more accurate fanfiction would be:

-going for a cheeky Nandos

-trip to Margate (shitty beach, closest to London)(EVERYONE has been to Margate)

-or South End (Nearest beach on the northern side/near Essex)

-Baz having to deal with Transport for London’s tubes and buses and Oyster cards

-Borris Bikes!

-Disneyland Paris (euro star gets you there easy! 2 trains from London)

-Crying about University (not college!)(Baz goes to one of the best Universities in the UK)( are people going to ignore that?)

- Hipster tea house AU (which sell scones obviously)

- The West End! More theatre AUs

-Chessington World of Adventures (there best ride is called Vampire just saying)

-NORMAL AUs! They would go to Secondary school from the age of 11-16 (year 7 to 11)(exams from year 10-11 are called GCSEs)
And16-18 would be Sixthform where they would study four subjects to get them into uni (exams are called A-Levels)(This is what I do)(Message me if you need help there)

(Does anyone else in the fandom live in London? I feel lonely…)Add more to the list of just British AUs!

Tagged by @nekosmuse (ta love!)

5 things you’ll find in my bag:

1. Tools, of some description (today it’s a pair of powder blue blunt nosed pliers)

2. My keys (with my lil Scottish keychain from last Edinburgh Fringe)

3. Phone charger

4. Notepad (to stop me writing all up my arm)

5. Oyster Card/Rail Pass

5 things you’ll find in my bedroom:

1. A fucking ridiculous mess???

2. Soft toys, all hidden in a massive storage box so I don’t get embarrassed when I have partners over

3. The amber aspect of a traffic light, wired into an arduino control board for easy use

4. Pile of clothes, various, dirty

5. Pile of mail I cannot be fucked with

5 things I’ve always wanted to do in life:

1. Cosplay (planning on doing that this May’s Comiccon YUS)

2. Complete an original novel

3. Go to university (unfortunately not likely to happen! But I have always wanted to, so)

4. Get married, have kids

5. Generally be a kickass individual?

5 things that make me happy:

1. Writing

2. The boyfriend

3. ~Enjoying and exploring my sexuality~

4. DGHDA & H2G2 (basically anything Douglas Adams)

5. Various YouTube letsplays (Game Grumps, Cry & Russ, Oney Plays with Friends - also JSE and Markiplier but I’m usually picky about which videos I’ll watch)

5 things I’m currently into:


2. Trying to progress my career…

3. Writing Big Bang and Beginner Bang

4. Volunteering!!!

5. My warm and fuzzy relationship

5 things on my to-do list:

1. Beginner Bang done asap

2. Big Bang done slightly less asap but still asap-ish

3. Finish my comiccon cosplay outfit

4. Uh. Stay alive?

5. See number 4??

5 things people may not know about me:

1. I LOVE London. I just fucking adore this city. I love the stupid way no one talks to one another, how you can be the only white person in a tube carriage, how I can get on a bus from the shittiest part of Deptford and end up in Baker Street, the parks, the marathons, the ridiculous history of the place.

2. I volunteer for an LGBT+ helpline. So, I know far too much about sex. Like, all the sex. I know it all. 

3. I’m bisexual and I live by the affirmation ‘sexual health is not only condoms, it’s also feeling comfortable and happy in your sexual experience’. It’s been a revelation.

4. DGHDA fandom is the second fandom I’ve been in that wasn’t RPF /o\

5. I’ve probably been writing smut since I was 14…? I like to think I’ve vastly improved.

Tagging @gentledirkly, @quingigillion, @lavellington & @princessparadoxical! (Sorry if you’ve already been tagged!)

South-east London gothic
  • An underground line appears. It is shown on the map with a white line, so it is hard to see unless you are looking. It curves down, connecting places that have never known the touch of a gateline. Bromley. Hayes. Lee. Catford. You see it sometimes, out of the corner of your eye, but can never seem to find your oyster card, and then the bus comes, and it seems less of a hassle.
  • They are removing Lewisham roundabout, but no one will say exactly why. There are spray painted sigils on the concrete. The bell on the bus keeps ringing as if haunted by impatient ghosts. An old woman shakes her head. “Its all gone downhill since they closed” she says. You don’t ask what they are. You want to be accepted. 
  • Peckham is the new Dalston, someone says. You try to go to Peckham, but it has moved up the overground line. It lies somewhere between the junction and kingsland now. Beautiful people wave at you from the roof of the multistorey carpark. On the ground the pavement it is thick with dirty sleet, but up there the sun shines bright as day.
  • It is beautiful here, you tell your friends through electronic means. You should come visit. The rent is cheap. Children play in the street. I still don’t know where “here” is, they reply. Come back. We miss you.
london gothic
  • The only way to the place you’re going is through a dark passageway. It’s a sunny day, but you can’t see to the other side. Everyone else keeps walking past the passageway as if they don’t see it.

  • The Northern line isn’t running above Camden Town. The buses have stopped going that way too. People start referring to North London like it’s Manchester. “That’s just how things are up North,” they say. “My sister moved up there but I haven’t heard from her in months.”

  • It’s been raining for days. It is always raining. Your flat is damp, condensation collecting on the insides of the windows. The walls are weeping. Your feet are wet. You will never be dry or warm again.

  • A pop up shop opens on Portobello Road. It sells herbs and homeopathic remedies one week, crystals and amulets the next. The third week, it’s stocked with rabbit’s feet and animal skulls, lizard skins and strange feathered things. People can’t get enough. The week after that, the store is gone.

  • You roll your eyes at a group of tourists taking a Jack the Ripper walking tour: a dozen of them winding through the alleys and pubs, following a guide holding an umbrella above his head. You see the same group again later, and there are only ten of them now. The guide looks straight at you. You look away.

  • There’s a red telephone box on every corner. The tourists like to take pictures inside, outside, on top of them. Every night, after midnight, all the telephones begin to ring. Your mother told you never to answer. You cross the street to avoid the sound, pulling your scarf tighter around your throat as you scurry on.

  • It’s summer and the ponds in Hampstead Heath are spreading. The grass is growing higher, up to a man’s chest. It’s all marshland now, all the paths and bridges swallowed up by rising water and vegetation. That’s just how things are now, up North.

  • You run down the steps into Piccadilly Circus and weave through the crowd to the ticket barrier. You touch your Oyster card to the reader and it beeps disapprovingly. The reader flashes the message: Seek Assistance. You try again and get the same message. You’re irritated, you’re in a hurry. You look around for a ticket agent, but you don’t see anyone. The booths are shuttered. The station is empty. The lights are flickering. There is no one here to assist you.