plain sweat

Sally was having one of those nights where she couldn’t sleep and she wanted to grab an old friend that hide quietly under her bed in a little black box. She put on a plain black pair of sweat pants, and an large ripped black sweater that said ‘cute but psycho’ hanging off one shoulder. Pulling the sleeves down over her hands she walked down the hallway towards the front door of her building, the door was propped open by a large rock. Leaning against the frame she smiled listening to the rain pitter pat against the roof, “I missed the rain.” It was the perfect way to get her mind off of the bad things.

Movie Night

[Timeline: 22nd February 2017, Wednesday 8:41 p.m., movie room at home, Salt Creek.]  


Barefoot, Àngel moved from the bedroom to the movie room, lounging on the comfortable leather couch in his grey sweats and plain t-shirt. He turned the set on, flipping through the channel as he wondered what Philippe’s plans for the night was. He was exhausted from work but the warm shower helped refresh him for the rest of the evening. He had no appetite though and only drinking a glass of juice for dinner. When he found a decent channel to watch, he brought out his cellphone from his pocket, grinning to himself as he typed a message for Philippe; 

In the movie room. Come sit with me if you’re not busy.

He realized the gesture might be seen as a lazy act but he actually enjoyed sending the vampire messages. He remained seated on the couch quietly, waiting for Philippe’s response but didn’t realize how tired he was that he drifted off to sleep…

fem john with baggy not quite form-fitting jeans and a rugby shirt under her leather jacket, with short-cut hair and army boots that she found in a thrift shop, her backpack hanging over one shoulder as she watches the boys running about in the rugby pitch and thinking she could do better than each and every one of their lazy asses

fem john in a sports bra and boxer shorts, her slightly longer hair all tousled after a shower, shutting her mother out as she goes on and on about john needing to shave off her legs and armpits while john just tries to brush her teeth peacefully before going to bed

fem john in boys-department sweats and plain white t-shirt when she works out, covered in sweat as she tries harder and harder to get her hands strong enough for punching any git who makes a derogatory comment about harry fancying the girl next to her in class properly, to get her stomach into some sort of a shape, to get her back strong enough to carry her father up the stairs when he can’t do that, to get her legs strong enough to carry her for miles as she runs

fem john going into med school, knowing she’s not exactly the typical doctor materiel around here, but wanting to do good so so badly, to actually help someone, and she’s good at it as well, better at the practical side of things, but not half bad at the theory, and she is fooling people with the scattered make-up and perfume around her room the same way she’s fooling her mother

fem john weeping when she first looks in the mirror with her uniforms

fem john with a checkered button-up and a cardigan that’s too big on her now that she’s lost weight after getting shot, the same old army boots and leather jacket, her hair growing and growing in all the wrong directions

fem john feeling threatened by fem sherlock’s femininity, until she notices her rude manners, the torn-up skin around her fingernails and the peeled off nail polish, the scars on her hands and knobby knees, everything everything everything about her that is not quite feminine and not quite muscular and absolutely very sherlock holmes as john gets to know her better and better

fem john falling in love with the way sherlock wears her robes, the way her hair is messily gathered into a pony tail in the morning, the way her lipstick stains her mugs, the way she moves, she speaks, she looks, she observes, she breathes in a sigh when she realizes something

fem john wearing heels and a dress for the first time in her life for a case and sherlock staring and john thinking this is what everybody had always wanted her to be but feeling sick to her stomach with the thought that this is the only way she can get sherlock

fem john and fem sherlock crashing into baker street after a night of chases and adrenaline, john’s heels forgotten on some roof, and sherlock laughing and laughing and laughing and looking with shimmering eyes at john, and john can’t help it, she kisses her, barefooted and with the zipper of her dress half undone, and sherlock makes a startled noise and her eyes fly open, she pushes john back and john is frightened she had made a mistake, because sherlock is saying, no, no, it’s not like that, but soon enough sherlock notices her bewildered expression, launches forwards and presses their mouths together, cradling john’s face and bending her knees so john won’t have to stretch her neck, only half actually kissing her, half murmuring against her mouth, and john is so confused she doesn’t catch any of that, can only wrap her hands around sherlock’s waist and move her lips along with sherlock’s, until sherlock sighs her frustrated sigh, and backs away, says, john, i’ve been staring for months now, really, you must have noticed, and john blinks, and blinks, and blinks, and sherlock rolls her eyes, demands, get out of this perfect, hideous dress, i know you hate it, and john blinks again, and sherlock throws her head back, cries out, for god’s sake, john, you’re perfect, i don’t need you any other way, and john doesn’t know how, but she ends up on top of her on the couch while it’s sherlock’s turn to blink at her

fem john going around the apartment in boxer shorts and nothing else, her legs bushy, while sherlock stares, and blushes, and john kisses the top of her head, breathes her smell in, and says, morning, and sherlock sighing contentedly while she says, thank god we got rid of that dress, and john giggling and saying, i rather think it did its part


“What are you doing?” Taehyung chuckled, tearing his gaze away from his laptop’s screen and staring at the boy sitting on the armchair, while Taehyung himself was sitting on the floor, laptop over the coffee table, surrounded by books. Jeongguk looked warm and comfortable, like he always did; grey sweats, plain shirt, disheveled hair. He looked like home.

“Reading.” The younger male answered, a small grin on his face.

“But you don’t have any—”

“I’m reading you, Tae,” Jeongguk said, his eyes so impossibly soft Taehyung almost blushed. “You look so beautiful like that, I mean… You’re an open book, yeah, but I feel like your most important lines are the ones written inbetween words. The little things. Just a note, maybe describing the way you look around and curl your lips when you’re trying to understand something, or how mesmerizing you manage to look just by sitting there, distracted. Not everyone gets to read inbetween your lines.” But I’m glad I do, goes unsaid.

taekook domestic au by @yoonseoker