rosie i wish for you to see the thing

The Friendly Wager (Part 2)

Summary: AU. Reader and Bucky Barnes are neighbors and best friends. After yet another bad date, reader comes home to find Bucky with his typical weekend target. They decide to make a wager about dating, but is there more on the line than reader cares to admit?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 2,613

Warnings: language, fluff, sarcasm, complete and utter denial, social drinking

A/N: This is my submission for the lovely Kait’s ( @bionic-buckyb) 5k AU Challenge. Congrats on the followers, friend! My prompt was “Can you please come over so I don’t feel so alone?

Part 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

Originally posted by upper-east-side-elite

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‘A Naughty Photo Album’ - Harry Styles Imagine

Originally posted by stylesinthewild

Words: 1,269

Pairing: Harry Styles & (Y/N) (Y/L/N)

Requested: No

Requests are OPEN

They say when you are in love, and you are young you do a lot of different things. But what happens if you’re young, in love, and married. Harry and her got married at a young age, he said it was not too young, but for her it was very young.

They got married at twenty-two, having all their time to themselves, nothing to worry. In their young relationship, both of them were in love with the concept of photography, she was particularly in love with that concept. When they moved in together, it took him by surprise of how many different cameras she had, but not just the modern, digital camera, it was the old polaroid ones that he loved. He took them without her knowing and just took pictures of her. She did the same, keeping them in an album, decorated by her.

The photos were all adorable at first, of her writing, cooking, etc. Him with his guitar, piano, cooking as well, etc. It was the “couple goals” kind of photos, but over time they escalated.

One of the days, a few weeks into their engagement at twenty one, he decided to be a bit cheeky with it at all, and started to take pictures of her naked, changing, etc. The album was lined with pictures of before and after sex, her asleep with her on her side, leg sticking out, he loved to take pictures of her at these moments, all vulnerable. She caught on fast, seeing him with the camera every morning, waking up to the lens in her face, her covering herself as fast as she can, but she enjoyed the adrenaline of it all, of her feeling loved and in a relationship. Like said, she caught on and began doing it with him.

Harry was a man that liked to be naked, to walk around wearing nothing, she was more of the shy one who hates to do that, always covered in someway. So when the one day where she could take the advantage of him barenaked, making pancakes for her, she had to take the picture, the first picture of him in that album…naked.

The album was forgotten over the years, after their sex life died down, with marriage and children, it still laid, in her draw, in the side table, at the right side of the bed. It laid there, collecting dust.

Both of them got busy, let’s be honest. She got her dream job, he always had his, but it was high up in the charts, and they had five kids to look after, ranging from the ages of thirteen, eleven, eight and four. It’s hard having an eight year old, but have twin eight year olds and a four year old, together, just adds on to the stress. So the fun nights of endless love making, the angry fucks, or just the experimental times, came to the end, not completely, there was the few that happen once in awhile, in those words, not so often.

When she heard giggling coming from the upstairs hallway, she could not help but question what was happening. (Y/N) carried herself up the staircase, holding onto the railing, forgetting about the task that she was just doing, and listening closely to the giggling coming from a few feet in front of her.

“Look at this one.” She barely heard, it was Rosie, their oldest daughter, a faint, but sweet voice, never failing to stop smiling. When she was born, and over time of the few months after, it took both Harry and her by surprise that she started to go strawberry-blonde and eventually fully redheaded, it was not common in both their families, barely there, but it complemented her quite well.

“Look at mum’s face, oh, look at dad, they look so young.” That was her son talking, Caleb, a little troublemaker, and looks that will flawn all the girls, eyes that look innocent, but not entirely the whole time. He was their first child, still a like mischievous one, always will, always was.

She was awfully confused of what they were so giggly about, she turned the corner, and saw all five of them sitting around something in the hallway. The twins, Charlotte and Alfie’s backs to her, Rosie and Caleb towards her, their eyes were so focused on it.

“What are you guys doing?” She asked. (Y/N) could not help but speak to them, their eyes shot up, noticing that their mother was trying to see what mischief that they got into this time around, Caleb took charge fast, closing the book.

“Nothing, mum. It just some…old photos. Wedding photos of you and dad, yeah.” He said, looking around at his siblings for help. That’s when she knew that they were definitely not looking at something that they should.

“That’s odd, since my wedding album is actually at Nana’s.” She began, taking a few steps towards them, she bent down next to Charlotte, seeing exactly that she was hoping not to see. Quickly grabbing the album and standing up, bringing it to her chest.

“Where did you get this?” She asked, stern glaze on each of them.

“It was in your draw, mum.” Rosie said, simply.

“What did you see? Did you look at the whole album, or just one or two pages?” she asked, still looking at them, they each look down at the ground. Her mainly concern was what they saw, it was many pictures of post sex, after sex and nakedness, nothing else pronographic, but it was intruding, it was her youth.

“Just a few pages, Ma, the last picture we saw was dad in an apron, only an apron.” Caleb said, giggling to himself a bit, she nodded, it was just her they saw naked, that was one of the first pictures of him, in that state.

“Did it ever occur to you, the moment you saw some of these…graphic pictures, that it is personal and intruding?” She asked, starting lean against the wall.

“We just thought it was a photo album, we’re sorry.” Rosie spoke up, starting to get up, she simply nodded, staring at each of them, “Never again, do I make this clear, there are some things in here, that I wish that I did not take pictures of, and there are pictures here that I wish that no one, even Nana, or Grandma, to see, this is Dad and I’s personal book, no one gets to go in, am I clear?” She said, they all nodded. She picked up her youngest, Noah, and started to walk down stairs, placing her on the carpet in front of her dollhouse.

“Harry!” She said, looking for him, she thought he was in the kitchen, but he was not. He yelled back, coming from the office.

She simply, started to walk fast, closing the door behind her, he turned around towards him, a smile on his face.

“What’s up, hun?” He said, taking his attention off his computer. She walked up to him, handing him the album.

“They found it, got as far as a bare naked picture of you in the kitchen, with the apron on with “Kiss the Chef”, written across it.” She said, he smirked and started laughing.

“Did you mention to them that, that was when we created Caleb, banging on the kitchen counter, burning the pancakes.” He said, crossing his arms across his chest, giving her his famous smirk. She glared at him, eyeing him.

“Harry!” She yelled, fast, smacking his arm, “You’re not taking this well.”

Please request, requests are open!

Lots of love,

-Ava. Xx

anonymous asked:

prompt: the party is slowly drifting away, not from each other, but from Will. And Will can tell bc he's not dumb. He can tell that the tension in the air becomes thick when he walks in on them talking bc the Party is always nervous they'll say something bc Will is 'fragile' He noticed that El has kind of taken his spot as his player in D&D. He's just so lonely. But one day when they do ask him to hang out he's says no bc Richie has already asked him to do something and they all low key fight.

this is gonna be a heartbreaker but lets make this kickass, shall we~?

send in some prompts, bbs! 

It started out as small things.

Sorry, Will. Tonight’s no good. U-uh, mom wants me to clean up my room and such.”

“I’m grounded.”

“I don’t feel well.”

Will had never questioned any of it, instead deciding to give a kind smile and wish the best for his friends. Because that’s all he wanted in the end for them; nothing but the very best.

And so he remained happy and optimistic, knowing that there was always another time; knowing that his friends were still there and that it would be okay.

Except… it wouldn’t be.

Not really.

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Love in the Dark

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Warnings: Heartbroken.

can you please please please write a song fic for TonyxReader based on Adele’s Love In The Dark

A/N: Valentine’s Day is here and I need a break from the fluff all over. Songs that inspired this one shot: Love in the Dark, Goodbye, Falling Into History, Jar of Hearts, No, Better in Time and Sombra de Ti. Feedback is love!

@orangepenguin5 @shelvesandwhelves @john-benderr 
@muffinz323 @justcallmecinammon 
@sexyvixen7 @that1awkwardfangirl 
@sammiesamness​ @shamvictoria11@ohmypageet

“Mr. Stark, I–” you froze the minute you opened the door to Tony’s office. He was holding his longtime girlfriend, Pepper Potts, very tight and they seemed to have the time of their lives. You shook your head and stuttered the next few words– “I’m sorry, Miss Potts. I-I wasn’t aware you were here.”

You closed the door and without saying any other word, you left the office. Mr. Stark owed you a free day after all.

Take your eyes off of me so I can leave. I’m far too ashamed to do it with you watching me. This is never ending, we have been here before, but I can’t stay this time ‘cause I don’t love you anymore.

A few hours later, Mr. Stark himself came by your apartment. Regret showing through his pores and his words staggering on his lips, he came inside without saying a word. He sat on that familiar couch where he had been with you a hundred times before. Yes, Tony Stark and you were in a relationship; a secret one, but you were together. He silently started crying and hid his shame with his hands as if it stopped you from looking at him. But you were not even looking at him. Not at the moment.

The minute he stepped inside, you walked to the bedroom to keep folding your clothes inside a bag. You were not blinded, if anything you had never seen better than this. The tears didn’t pool in your eyes and your heart was not beating fast. Your mind was at an incredibly state of peace that you had not felt in a while now.

“Baby?” Tony’s husky voice startled you. “Where are you going?”

“I’m leaving, Tony.” You turned your head to him. “I’m leaving for good.”

“What–Where?” He babbled. “And why are you leaving?”

“I wish things would’ve been different between us but–” you shook your head and bit your bottom lip; all the harmony you once had went away, and hot tears threatened to roll down your rosy cheeks– “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Please, let’s talk it over…”

“Talk what over?” You burst. “Tony, what are we going to talk about? I know what I saw today at your office and don’t tell me it meant nothing!” You grabbed your head and took a deep breath. “I don’t want you to make things harder so if you don’t wanna see me leave, then just… look away.”

Please stay where you are. Don’t come any closer. Don’t try to change my mind. I’m being cruel to be kind

“(Y/N).” He said from behind you. You dragged your suitcase through the hallway and heading to the door but he tugged at your arm and made you turn around. You could see he was broken by the news but there was no turning back, or at least you hoped so. “(Y/N) you have to let me explain. You can’t leave me like this!”

“No, Tony.” You took a deep breath freeing yourself from his hand. “I’ve had enough. I can’t do this anymore.”

I can’t love you in the dark. It feels like we’re oceans apart. There is so much space between us. Maybe we’re already defeated. Everything changed me.

“I can’t be the other woman. I am not doing this to Pepper.” You rubbed your temples and walked to the sofa to throw yourself on it. You propped your elbows on your knees and held your head tightly. You felt Tony sitting down next to you. “I don’t know how I even agreed to do this in the first place.”

“But I love you–”

“Tony, don’t lie to me anymore.” You replied tiredly, leaning your back on the couch and looking up to the ceiling.

The single image of Tony holding Pepper made you sick and nauseated, but you couldn’t stop thinking about it. You ran to the sink to throw everything you had eaten up; it wasn’t much, just a well-digested breakfast. You let the water flow, taking away everything with it and washed your mouth from the awfully bitter taste. You fell on your knees next to the counter of the sink and started crying quietly. It had taken you a while to break, and finally you were. You curled, with your face pressed against the cold surface. A loud shriek went along with your tears as you finally let yourself have a good cry.

It was a major understatement to say you were hurt. It was as if someone had taken your heart from your chest and squeezed it. Not even breaking it. You found it hard to breathe, so you gasped loudly for air in your lungs as you sobbed out loud. Tony kneeled next to you to see if you had hurt yourself, but truth was that he hurt you.

You have given me something that I can’t live without. You mustn’t underestimate that when you are in doubt, but I don’t want to carry on like everything is fine. The longer we ignore it all the more that we will fight

“You never broke up with her, right?” you mumbled, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand. “I’ve been the other woman all this time, haven’t I?”

“You’re not the other–no. Don’t say that.” He grabbed your wrists still next to your face; a breath got caught in your throat when you felt his skin against yours. It wasn’t like before; you found warmth and a feeling of safety in his arms, but now, his mere touch gave you the shivers and it scared you. Not for what he could do, but for what he had done. He enchanted you like a prince, but turned out to be the complete opposite. You fixed your eyes on his and breathed with your mouth hanging slightly open.

Freeing yourself from him, you headed to your unattended bag again and walked to the front door. It was a necessary step for you to be strong for once. None of you deserved what was happening.

“Fire me if you want to. I was thinking of quitting anyway.” You said coldly.

Please don’t fall apart. I can’t face your breaking heart. I’m trying to be brave. Stop asking me to stay

When you were ready to open the door, Tony fell on his knees and his arms wrapped around your waist. You looked up to the ceiling trying to find strength in the white tiles or the fluorescent light that buzzed, but the way he held on for dear life to you made your heart and mind falter after such a long tug of war. You lifted your shaky hands trying to get as little touch as possible, but he had his face completely pressed against your stomach.

“(Y/N), don’t leave me.” He pleaded in between tears. You felt how he made your top wet and warm. His strong hands were on each side of your hips as he shook his head. “I swear I will change; please give me a chance, let it be the last one but don’t leave my side.”

“Tony I–I can’t,” you babbled, “I’ve given you enough chances, but what you did is… I can’t even begin to describe it.”

“I’ve fucked up before, I know,” he looked up to you, but your eyes were still fixed somewhere else, because you knew you were not strong enough, “but we’ve always managed to work things out. Why not this time?” he sobbed, “(Y/N) please look at me.”

“No, Tony–” you shook your head– “because I know what’s gonna happen next. You’re gonna tell me you love me and that you’ll change and you’ll break up with Pepper and make this thing public and finally make things right.” Your jaw trembled and more tears rolled down your cheeks; you allowed yourself another good cry with your hands covering your face. “You never learn, Tony.”

“Baby, I love you–”

“No–” you wiped under your nose with the back of your hand– “I love you,” you growled,” but you don’t love anyone but yourself. You can’t be alone and I’m guessing that’s why you haven’t broke Pepper the news.” You were trying to free yourself from him but the more you did, the more his grasp became tighter. “Tony, let me go.”

“No, not until you give me another chance.” He whispered.

We’re not the only ones. I don’t regret a thing. Every word I’ve said, you know I’ll always mean it is the world to me that you are in my life, but I want to live and not just survive.

Tony finally released you from his arms and stood up. He dried his tears with his sleeve and tried to look strong, but you both knew it was a mere façade and a terrible one. You couldn’t be more broken if you wanted to, and even though this hurt, you knew it was for the better. You took a deep, calming breath and said your last goodbye.

“You mean the world to me Tony, I never lied about that.” You added, with your voice not as shaky as it was just moments ago. “And you’ll always have a special place in my heart, but you won’t find in me the woman you’re looking for.” You shook your head just a little and bit your bottom lip. “I really hope the best for you; you’re great, but you’re just not for me.”

“I could be if you let me.” He pleaded one last time.

“Don’t let the last thing you tell me be a lie.” You pursed your lips. “Goodbye, Tony.” You twisted the knob and said goodbye to your old life.

A Sherlolly Halloween part 2

Pt 1 here:

Pt 1.2 here:

This Halloween takes place in Season four after TST and before TLD. Ahhhh I can’t wait until these two get their lives together and get a nice Halloween

Halloween 1 year ago

Molly adjusted her wig. Damn thing was so itchy. She had decided to take Rosie over to see Mrs. Hudson and have some photos taken of the two of them dressed up. She hoped she would not run into Sherlock while she was there; he was in no state fit to be around a child. He had turned into a goddamned smackhead idiot since Mary had passed.  Molly had begged him to stop, had cried and cried, but of course all he said was “’It’s for a case,” and walked away from her.

You can’t help a person who doesn’t want to be helped, Molly thought, bouncing Rosie from one hip to the other. Molly spent most of her time these days at Bart’s, and John’s flat these days. While she had certainly meant the vows she had taken as a godmother, she hadn’t anticipated needing to fulfill them so intensely.  She had come to love Rosie with her whole heart. She knew she could never fill the void of Mary, but she knew she would always be there for the little girl, no matter what.

She exited the tube, feeling slightly ridiculous in her costume. However, many women stopped to tell her how cute she and her daughter looked in their coordinating costumes. Molly corrected the first couple of people of people, “Oh, thank you, she’s my Goddaughter” but quickly gave up and just accepted the compliments, while sending a silent prayer up to Mary to forgive her.  

She found her way to Baker Street and knocked on the black door. Mrs. Hudson answered.

“Oh Molly! Rosie! So good to see my girls!” She yelled, pulling them in to the flat. “Now I’m so sorry dear, but I have no idea quite exactly what you two are supposed to be.”

“Well,” Molly began excitedly, “I’m Elsa” she gestured to her long white braided wig like it was supposed to be a dead give-away, “and little miss Rosie is Anna.”

“And who are those people? You both look adorable. But I have no idea what that means.”’ Mrs. Hudson replied, taking Rosie from Molly’s arms.

“It’s from a Disney movie. Super popular right now.” Molly smiled. Sitting down her tote bag, full of diapers, milk, and toys.

Molly heard shouting from up above. “No…” she groaned. She thought to herself, but apparently the words had left her mouth without her noticing.

“Oh yes. He’s on about something again. Hasn’t eaten for days. I think he might be on those drugs again. I keep telling him, chasing Mary, God rest her soul, to the grave isn’t going to bring her back.” Mrs. Hudson instinctively tightened her hold on Rosie, who was now trying to play with Mrs. Hudson’s necklace. “No no my darling, here let’s find a nice stuffy for you to play with.” Mrs. Hudson moved towards a basket she kept filled with toys.

Molly worried her lip. She was so over Sherlock and his stupid bullshit. But she was his friend and she still worried about him. Especially since him and John were still on the outs. She sighed.

“I’m going to go up and check on him. Milk and diapers are in the bag.” Molly said.

“Oh thank you. I’d really appreciate that Molly, you know he is so fond of you. Even if he doesn’t show it. I can tell. Here, take this tray of biscuits and see if you can trick him into eating some.” She handed Molly a tray that had been sitting on the kitchen table. “Me and miss Rosie here will just be reading this nice book”

Molly took the tray and headed up the stairs. Her mind wandered back to Halloween last year. She had gotten dumped, and Sherlock had been making out with some poor girl that he was using to get to a psychopath. He really was an asshole. And here she was, one year later, once again in a costume, getting ready to have her dignity torn to shreds. She just knew it. He was in such a bad place mentally and physically right now. She braced herself for a verbal assault, and knocked on the door.

“I have told you twenty four times now Mrs. Hudson to leave me alone! My mind does not require nourishment. I am at a critical juncture in my planning and I require nothing from you.” A deep baritone voice responded.

“It’s not Mrs. Hudson” was all that she could think to say.

She was shocked when he opened the door.

“Molly.” His stormy blue-green eyes, swept over her. “And in a costume?” his eyebrow raised

“It’s Halloween Sherlock” Molly said, her voice sounding much more tired than she felt.

“Ah. Yes. I suppose it is.” He responded, opening the door wider. He looked like shit. She had seen him look worse. She was shocked he was speaking in coherent sentences.

“Sherlock. Are you..” she began

“Molly, a good rule when it comes to asking questions and making inferences is to not ask a question you don’t want the answer to.” He cut her off.

 “Are you high right now?” Molly continued.

He opened the door to his flat wider. “At this exact moment I am minimally under the influence. Please. Come in.”

Molly walked into his flat. Books were strewn everywhere. Photos and maps tacked to the wall. He was clearly in the middle of a case. Always with the damn cases. Always ruining himself and ruining other people. FOR THE DAMN CASES. She found herself growing angry.

She realized then that she was still holding the tray she had been sent in with.

“Biscuits?” she asked through he gritted teeth.

“Oh just save us the trouble and thrown them.”

“Excuse me?” Molly replied.

“You’re angry with me. The last time I was using you slapped me. Three times to be precise. So get it out of your system so we can move forward.” He countered, calmly.

“Why. Is. Everything. A goddamned game with you!?” Molly responded, her voice starting to rise.

“Oh I assure you that this is a matter of like and death.”

“Yes. Sherlock. Yours! If you keep on like this you will die!” Molly was yelling now, and felt the tears beginning to well up in her eyes. She slammed the tray down on the nearest table. “Don’t you care about that?”

“I do not believe this will kill me Molly. I am very careful with the amounts I take. This is for a case. A life will be saved.” Sherlock had walked towards her as he was speaking, now arm’s reach away. “Please. Just trust me.”

“Do you know how many bodies I have to cut into every week because somebody thought they knew they could handle it? People who OD? People who drive drunk? No one ever think it can happen to them.  But since you’re Sherlock fucking Holmes you won’t believe anyone other than yourself!” Molly was full blown screaming now. “And if you die from being a total idiot, because THAT is what you are acting like right now, what about John?”

“John hates me right now.” Sherlock cut her off, his voice becoming shaky.

“What about Mrs. Hudson?  And Me? And what about Rosie? Hmmm? Your Goddaughter is downstairs while you are up here in your glorified crackhouse. You took an oath Sherlock. I know you don’t believe in God, but I can’t believe that the oath you took that day doesn’t mean something to you. Do not let that little girl lose another person Sherlock!” Molly had closed the distance between them now and was shaking with anger as she looked up at Sherlock. His façade was cracking.

“Stop it!” he yelped “Please just stop it. He pressed his fingers to his temples, and breathed deeply, trying to keep the tears back. “Molly. Just believe me when I say this. Trust me. What I am doing is for John. It is for Rosie. It is for.” His voice caught in his throat and cracked “Mary.”

Molly found herself chest to chest with Sherlock. He was crying. Sherlock Holmes cried?

He continued. “Just please,” he pulled Molly close, “please keep looking after Rosie and Mrs. Hudson. I know I’ve been rubbish since Mary died. So has John. You’ve kept everyone together. Please. Just a little longer. Things can be like they used to be.”

Molly felt his hot, tears making the top of her head damp. She wrapped her arms around him. She had no idea what he was talking about. Seeing him like this scared her.

Molly stood there, rubbing his back awkwardly. She had imagined moments like this, but never envisioned them happening like this.  She wished she could tell him everything would be ok but she knew better. Things never just went ok for Sherlock Holmes.  Murderers followed him around, people killed their friends, and sociopaths even tried to get her involved in their schemes. Molly sighed.

“Can you at least tell me what’s going on? Please? Maybe I can help? I’ve helped before.” Molly offered.

“I don’t want to involve you. You have Rosie to look after.” He responded quietly.

“Me, Mrs. Hudson, and Harry all take turns. And I hate seeing you like this. Please. Let me help you.” Molly’s anger was starting to wane, replaced by a deep sadness for her friend who didn’t feel like he could share his burdens with anyone.

“I need you to meet me with an ambulance at a house in Brixton next week. John will be there. There won’t be anything dangerous. Just show up ready to do doctor things.”

“Sherlock? I’m a pathologist. John’s a doctor. Why would I need to be the one examining>”

“John will still be angry and he won’t trust anyone else. Not for what you will need to do.” Sherlock responded.

“What will I need to do?” Molly responded, peeling herself away from Sherlock, using every bit of self-restraint she possessed.

Sherlock refused to make eye contact with her.

“Sherlock?” Molly asked again, skepticism filling her voice.

“I will be very…altered. You will need to do my bloodwork.”

“Jesus Christ Sherlock. We just talked about this!” Molly felt the anger and the tears starting up again.

“I will be doing this with or without your help Molly.” Sherlock said, his voice slowly regaining the smooth composure it normally had.

Molly looked away. “Fine. But you should come down and see Rosie while you’re in your right mind. And Mrs. Hudson too. She’s worried to death about you.”

“Molly I..”he started to protest.

Molly held her hand up to silence him “No. You don’t get to keep making one sided deals with me. I’ve been your secret keeper before and I’ve never asked you for anything. You are going to march down there, you are going to apologize to Mrs. Hudson, you are going to play with Rosie and see how adorable she is dressed up for Halloween, and you are going to take our picture together because I want a damn picture of me and my Goddaughter and you will not complain about any of it.”

Sherlock stood there, realizing he had nothing to argue with. She was right. She had been a supportive friend and ally to him all these years. A constant source of stability and friendship.

“Right. Let’s go. By the way, what exactly are you supposed to be? That wig is damn itchy.”

Molly gave a small smile, it was all she could muster given the solemnity of their discussion.

“It’s from a Disney movie.” Molly responded quietly.

“I have no idea what that means.”

They went downstairs and had tea with Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock let her fuss over him like he hadn’t since Mary died. Sherlock played peekaboo with Rosie and snapped some photos of Molly and Rosie as Anna and Elsa. Mrs. Hudson insisted on taking one of the three of them. In the photo, Molly is holding Rosie, Sherlock has his arm around Molly. Sherlock covertly sent a copy to himself from Mrs. Hudson’s phone and looks at it all the time. He knows in two weeks, everything will change again. What he doesn’t know is: an east wind is coming.#

Rosie of My Heart

For Molly Hooper Appreciation Week.  Day 1 - A Ros(i)e By Any Other Name.

Molly raised her head as she heard the door to her spare bedroom creak open. Its occupant, a three-year-old Rosie, came ambling in, rubbing her eyes and dragging her blanket behind her. Molly immediately set aside her book and leaned her forearms on her thighs. “You’re meant to be asleep, young lady,” she gently admonished.

The little girl’s bottom lip quivered. “I had a bad dream.”

Molly’s heart melted, and she sat up straight, opening her arms in invitation. Rosie scrambled onto her lap, latching her arms around her neck. Molly hugged her close, stroking her dusty blonde curls and rocking from side-to-side. “Shh, it’s all right. It was just a dream.”

Rosie sniffled. “But it was really bad.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

She sat back on her haunches and launched into a retelling of her dream. Molly had to bite back tears of her own as she listened to her goddaughter’s fears of being taken away from her loved ones… of her father abandoning her. John, she knew, would never in a million years do such a thing. Still, as he was currently on his second honeymoon, Molly could see how Rosie might feel abandoned.

“I miss him,” Rosie wailed. “I wish he hadn’t married Kathryn.”

Molly gave a sad, sympathetic smile. “Don’t you like Kathryn?”

Rosie shrugged. “She’s nice, and she makes yummy food. Dad’s food isn’t always very good. But… what if he never comes back?”

“Oh, he’ll be back,” Molly assured her, pulling her in for another snuggle. “He’d never leave his favorite girl like that. He’d miss you too much”

She was quiet for a moment, then whispered, “Do you think he misses her?”

Molly frowned. “Who, darling?”

“My mum.”

A lump formed in Molly’s throat, and she forced back more tears. “Oh, yes. I know he still misses her terribly.”

“Then how can he marry somebody else?”

Sighing quietly, she searched for a way to make the young girl understand. “You can love more than one person, Rosie. Sometimes the first person you love leaves, or is taken from you. It hurts a lot, and you feel like no one else can ever make you feel the same way. And in some ways, that’s true. But they can make you happy in different ways, and you love them, too. I think that’s how he feels about Kathryn. Your mum was special, and she’ll never be replaced. But Kathryn is special, too.”

The seconds ticked by as Rosie processed this information. She was so still, Molly wondered if she’d drifted off to sleep. Just when she was about to look, Rosie spoke again. “He never talks about Mum,” she whispered. “I think it makes him too sad.”

Molly nodded. “That’s possible.”

Rosie leaned back again. “Can you tell me about her, Molly?”

For a moment, she considered declining. Though her grief was nothing when compared to John’s, she also felt the loss of Mary Watson. She had been a wonderful friend, and they had shared so much in the short time they had. In the end, it was this that prompted her to agree.

Molly told Rosie about the first time she’d met Mary. It was the anniversary of Sherlock’s “death,” and she and John had just begun dating. Within minutes, the two women were giggling together like teenagers, while John watched from the sidelines, amused and bemused. She shared stories of her mother’s kindness, vivacity, and strength. She hesitated only briefly before telling her of the way she had sacrificed herself for Sherlock, silent tears streaming down her face.

“Wow,” Rosie breathed. “My mum was really brave.”

“Yes, she was.”

They turned at the sound of a male voice, and found John standing in the doorway, smiling sadly. Rosie practically flew into her father’s arms, and he scooped her up into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to her curls. “Your mother,” he murmured, his voice low and hoarse, “was an absolute treasure. And you are so much like her.”

Molly beamed as he sat beside her, Rosie still in his arms. He grinned at her and tapped the tip of her nose. “Did you have a good day with Molly?”

Rosie nodded exuberantly. “Molly’s the bestest! She’s nice and sings me songs and tells me stories.”

John shot her a grateful smile. “Well, when we get back home, I’ll have to tell you some more stories… about your mum. Would you like that?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” the little girl cried, throwing her arms around him. John thanked Molly as they each gathered up her things, carrying them out to the cab waiting outside. Kathryn stood on the kerb, waiting for her husband and stepdaughter with a smile. Molly liked Kathryn, and was grateful, for John and Rosie’s sake, that he had found someone so kind and patient.

The Watsons piled into the cab, calling out their goodbyes. Molly waved as they drove off into the fading, pinkish light. Memories of Mary still floated around the forefront of her mind, and she sniffed back a few more tears. John was right; Mary had been a treasure. And Rosie was just like her.

Search and Rescue

Heeeeey! I’m so excited for this story, guys! I really hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: captivity? lotsa swearing.

Part Two   Part Three   Part Four   Part Five   Part Six   Part Seven

You curled your fingers under the bottom of the couch and lifted it up to shoulder level, one-handed. Hmm. Bit dusty under there – and Rose would be able to tell, especially now that you’d seen it. You blew out a breath and lowered the couch back to the floor. What was a little bit of dust between sisters? You turned and surveyed your apartment – better make sure everything else was clean.

Concrete floors swept, floor rugs vacuumed, pillows straightened. Over by the kitchenette, the food was all put away and the counters were wiped. Hell, you’d even dusted the hanging lights. The big-knit blankets were draped over the armchairs by the window and the pumpkin-spice candles were waiting to be lit. In the tiny bathroom off to the side, there was a fan of magazines topped with a TIME featuring Captain America on the cover. Pale light streamed through the curtains. A clean, cottony sort of light. A far-off siren outside added to the city sounds.

Yep. Everything was ready for Rose’s visit.

Objectively speaking, Rose knew you were naturally a slob. You had grown up together, after all. But Rose - grumpy, sweet, geeky Rose - was anything but slobbish, and she’d definitely appreciate the effort.

You sniffled. It’d been too long since you’d seen each other. What with her veterinary studies and her job in New York, you’d barely had time to talk to her on the phone since Christmas. But now, finally, it was Spring Break, and instead of rocking a bikini in Cancun like she totally could, she was coming to spend the week with you in DC.

Like with any siblings, absence makes the heart grow fonder, but god you missed her. And when she was there – with her imperious beauty and strange telepathy – it wasn’t very hard to feel normal. Which was hard to do when you could lift a couch one-handed without breaking a sweat.

You hugged your waist and wandered over to the kitchenette; better make sure you had enough food for the planned Netflix marathons.

You opened the fridge. Looked alright, though you were a bit low on butter for the popcorn.

The cupboards were okay too – full of kernels ready for the wok on the stove, bags of chips and flavor powder for the popcorn. It wasn’t often you went so overboard (or watched documentaries for that matter) but come on, it was a complete set of exclusive interviews with each of the Avengers, out of uniform. Damn.

The phone rang, startling you. It really was too quiet in this apartment all by yourself. You should totally get a cat.

Shit! The phone was still ringing.

“Hello?” Holy, you were out of breath.

Silence. There was a click.

“H-hello?” Nothing. Then -

“Heeey, big sister!”

Oh, thank god.

“Hey, Rosie! Where are you?” You pressed a hand to your chest and gave a sigh of relief; it was scary living alone sometimes.

“Leaving the airport,” came the voice over the phone. “And sincerely hoping to spot Captain Fineass running patriotically around the city.”

You snorted. “Yeah, that’s likely. I’ve heard he’s really reclusive.”

Rose made a disappointed noise. “I bet you’re sitting around wishing I was there already.”

“Ha! Yeah, you wish, nerd,” you said fondly. “I actually have to go out and pick up a few things. See you soon, Rosie.”


The line clicked dead. You held the phone in your hand, staring unseeingly at the fridge for a minute. Wait a minute…shit.

The Thing wasn’t there – the essential ingredient to make this week perfect. Rose’s favorite chocolate-covered coffee beans – where were they? You were sure you remembered buying them, and you didn’t remember eating them. You shut the fridge door, swearing under your breath. Now you really did have to go out. And traffic this time of day in DC? Horrendous. You groaned and looked up at the old metal beams of the ceiling. It was going to bug you if you didn’t have them.  You scribbled a quick note for Rose, grabbed the keys from the hook by the door and stomped out to the elevator.


You stepped from the air-conditioned store, back out into the warm spring evening. A puff of warm wind brushed your face and stirred the spiders’ webs coating the windows of the store. The streetlights were on by this time, and the sky was your favorite deep, after-sunset blue. There were maybe three other cars parked in the lot, so your beat-up Prius was easy to pick out.

Okay, so you’d ended up getting more than the coffee beans and butter, but who were you to know there was a sale on munchies? You breathed deep – hot air, parking-lot air – and rested the bags of the hood of your car. Somewhere away in the city, tires squealed and a car alarm blared. You swallowed a twinge in your belly. There was no reason the hairs on the back of your neck should be lifting, no reason your muscles should be tightening. It was just anxiety, that was all. Sometimes it had no reason behind it, and you just had to breathe through it. Just anxiety.

“Excuse me?” said a pleasant, smoky voice from behind you.

You turned; the man who’d spoken was tanned and dark, all black eyes and spiky hair and high cheekbones. He smelled like gunpowder. Your stomach twisted, as the man smiled and stepped closer. Too close. You stepped back, heart beating out an alarm. Danger, your instincts said. He smelled dangerous. Your fists clenched.

Quick as a snake, his hand clapped down on your shoulder. A tiny stab of pain spread numbness through your skin.  You blinked rapidly-blurring eyes, trying to force something out of your lungs – a scream, a curse, a plea. Anything. But nothing came out. Rose! You thought furiously. Your knees gave out, and the man, still smiling, caught you just before the world swirled to black.


Plink. Plink. Plink.

Ugh. What was that sound? Your head throbbed. What happened?

You sniffed. The air smelled…cold. Stale. Was that concrete? Why the hell were you smelling damp concrete?

“Ugh.” You groaned and sat up, rubbing your ringing head.

Grey. Cracked, crumbly. Dark patches of damp spread across one corner of the walls – four of them, broken only by the floor and ceiling.

No door. Hell.

God, your whole body ached. You swallowed. Where the fuck were you?

Your heartbeat sped up loud, thumping in your ears.

“Okay,” you muttered, voice strangely flat and cracked. “It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s…okay.” You were going to be fine – you had super-strength, right? Concrete was nothing you couldn’t handle; it was just the idea of being so closed in that you didn’t like. You took a shaky breath, raised a clenched fist, and slammed it with all your force into the cracked wall.

It exploded with pain.

“Fuck!” you yelled. You held your bruised hand gingerly to your chest, eyes stinging with tears. Cold fear seeped into your bones, settling like ice in the pit of your stomach. What was going on? You shouldn’t be this weak. Something in you felt shaken by that, even more than by the lack of a door.

Something beeped softly, close to your ear. Very close. You raised a hand to your neck – oh, holy fucking fuck, there was a collar there.

You pried your fingers under it and pulled -

Zzzzapt. A pulse of electricity sizzled through you, leaving every nerve alive with lightning.

You took a ragged breath, swallowed back the nausea, and turned in a circle. Four grey stone walls, stone floor and stone ceiling with a single pale circle of light – a pot-light, like the ones in the basement of your old house.

A thin, stained bed stood against one corner, and a pathetic little metal toilet huddled in the other. That was it – that was everything. It might as well be the whole world.

You swallowed back rising bile and evened out your ragged breathing. Someone had brought you here for a reason – and they’d have to come talk to you eventually. You weren’t going to be stuck in this box forever.



It wasn’t quite forever, but god, it felt that way. With no way to mark the passing of time, you’d been staring at the same wall for what felt like ages. And then it wasn’t a wall anymore – just out of nowhere, it was a glass panel. Just like that.

Standing on the other side was the man from the parking lot – the one who smelled like gunpowder and bones. Your skin crawled. He was wrong. There was something…off, something not right about him. You said nothing and met his glittery black eyes. He watched for a minute, and then clicked a little button to the side of the glass. The wall slid aside noiselessly, and he stepped over the yellow line on the ground.

Suddenly you wished for the box back.

“Stand up.” His voice was smoke, every line of his body taut. You didn’t move.

“Stand up,” he insisted and stepped closer.

“Who are you?” you managed, throat thick.

“I said stand up!” the man snarled. He pulled a pistol from his belt and aimed it at your face.

Shit. Psycho with a gun.

“Okay, okay!” You got to your feet, hands raised. “What do you want?”

“Walk,” he ordered, gesturing with the pistol.

You did as he said, blood roaring in your ears. You were going to die. This creepy guy was going to kill you. You bit back a hysterical giggle.

After a few turns, he holstered his gun and stepped in front of you. “Follow me.”

Down the bland concrete hallways, twisting and writing like a labyrinth, you followed the man, not  daring to run.

Your heart beat so violently it made your vision shake and your stomach roil. You tried again, trying to keep your voice even. “What – what do you want?”

The man with the gun rolled his eyes and sighed loudly. “You’re here to repair the Asset.”


“Walk!” he snapped.

You sped up a little, then swallowed. Your mouth tasted like metal.

“I – I don’t…I’m not a mechanic,” you managed.

He scoffed. “No. But you are special, aren’t you?”

You blinked. Did he mean your strength? He had to mean your super-strength.

“I – you need me, or whatever, because I’m…strong?”

“Ha! No.” he huffed out a breath, still keeping one hand on his pistol. “We could find stronger than you if we needed to. It’s your other talent that we’re interested in.”

A touch of ice crawled its way up your back, spreading frost through you. There was no way. He couldn’t possibly mean…that. You hadn’t done it in years, not since the time Rose fell out of that tree when you were kids. It cost you too much. It couldn’t be that.

You cleared your throat. “Um…when you say ‘repair the asset?”

He nodded, sharp and brutal. “He’s been damaged.”

He?!” you choked. You might’ve said more, but from the door that loomed in front of you there came a sound. A terrible sound.

From somewhere beyond that door, there was a gut-wrenching, terrified scream - a sound of pure pain and terror.

Is This How You Feel? (Pt4)

This is part 4. Read Part 3 / Part 2 / Part 1

The music gets louder and the front door has remained closed for a while now. There’s a swarm of warm bodies in the living room, everyone talking and bopping to the music(no one’s drunk enough to dance properly yet). Waverly has a happy buzz going, but she’s not too drunk to forget who she really wants to be there, not too hazy to worry. She wants Nicole here, safe and dancing with her and maybe kissing her in the way that makes Waverly wanna drag her upstairs, is that so much to ask?

Keep reading


1989 World Tour: Arlington, Texas.  

Dear @taylorswift I honestly don’t know where to start, there are just so many things I want to tell you, I’m probably the most irrelevant person in this fandom and well, this is not a moving story or anything special at all, just some random girl trying to get noticed by you and feeling a little bad about it but…okay. First off, I’d like to apologize for any further grammar mistakes you may see while you’re reading this (I mean IF you ever see this and then decide to actually read it) since English is not my native language, besides I usually suck at writing so this might be no exception lol I can assure you I tried my best though…anyway, My name is Marisol and I kind of just wanted to let you know that after a bit more than 7 years of waiting, I’m finally going to see you in Dallas on October 17th! This is such a big deal because I have loved you since you were younger than I am now (19) that’s just so crazy to me and oh my god you have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this but it was something that I never really had the chance to accomplish until now <3 This is so exciting, I’m over the moon right now…So by the middle of this year, I didn’t even think about the possibility of seeing you anymore, money was not a problem because I started saving since about a year and a half ago but I couldn’t go with my friends cause none of them could afford the whole thing and I’m terrified of traveling alone. Then my mom was super hard to convince and after a whole process of “please, please think it over” considering my good behavior and how great I’m doing in school, she ended up agreeing but tickets were already sold out. One day after months and months of patiently waiting (not really cause it’s YOU TAYLOR AWESOME SWIFT we’re talking about, duh) luck got on my side (kind of) and I finally found some tickets <3 even though I won’t have the best view, (I probably won’t see a thing tbh but I don’t care) I do consider myself very blessed and lucky. The fact that we’re gonna be breathing the same air and to have you singing right there in front of my eyes after so many years, makes me the happiest person alive :’) I’m going all the way from Mexico which I know is probably not that far (14 hour drive because plane tickets are way too expensive) but it’s finally happening and it’ll be so worth it!!!! I’m sure I’ll have the time of my life. Alright, now moving on to my costume, this is a poor attempt of an Alice In Wonderland 1989 Album Cover Inspired Dress that I’ll wear to the show. I know it may not be super creative or anything, specially after all the AMAZING costumes I’ve seen people wearing throughout this tour but well…it’s all I could come up with and besides it is so special to me cause even though it might seem like we didn’t, we really DID put a lot of thought into it, the dress itself was made by my grandma who happens to be 72 years old, she used to be a seamstress back in the day but she doesn’t do big stuff anymore so when I told her about this idea I had in mind, she was the sweetest when she told me she felt capable of doing that for me and well here you have the result <3 I hope you love it as much as I did, then the rest of both outfits and the signs (lights, polaroids, glow-sticks, etc, WE PLAN ON ADDING SOME MORE) was made by my mom and I (actually, her playing the (weird) Cheshire cat was my idea haha I kinda forced her into this). Last but not least, I wrote this thing I’ll paste below a few months ago (around May) when I didn’t even know If we were attending the show. I guess I got sort of inspired seeing all the fans super excited about seeing you and the way they talked about how magical each of the concerts were. It sounded like this great, wonderful experience that every Swiftie around the world deserves to live, and I don’t lie to myself I obviously know this next paragraph is probably not that good or witty and many people has written similar stuff before but like I already mentioned above, I suck at writing and man it really took me hours to get it done!!! So once again, I apologize. Here it goes…

“Hey TAYLOR I’ve BEEN WAITING FOR YOU to come to my country for what feels like ages and well, since that hasn’t happened yet (I’m sure one day though), I came to see you somewhere else. I’m pretty sure when you get on stage I’ll be like “OMG LOOK AT THAT gorgeous FACE <3” This day is one of the best in my entire life, I’m all dressed up I even GOT THAT RED LIP CLASSIC THING on THAT YOU LIKE to wear, I think it’ll just NEVER GO OUT OF STYLE. I know LOOKING AT IT NOW, IT ALL SEEMS SO SIMPLE but omg it sure wasn’t. You have no idea how hard it was for me to get to come to this show. I hope one day I get the chance to tell you how much you’ve inspired me, to thank you for blessing the world with those beautiful masterpieces you have written along the years, and that ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS STAY true to yourself all this time. We all love you just the way you are. You know HATERS GONNA H8 but Swifties will have your back FOREVER AND EVER. Many guys BROKE YOUR HEART before and we have always tried our best to PUT IT BACK TOGETHER, I WISH YOU WOULD never forget about that…Right now IT’S 2 AM I’m IN MY ROOM working on this thing (pretending it’s the BIG DAY) and I’m feeling so emotional cause IT’S SO SAD TO THINK ABOUT THE GOOD TIMES I’ve missed out for not going to any of your past tours before but never in my WILDEST DREAMS I thought I would get the chance to see you STANDING IN A NICE DRESS STARING at the crowd screaming out your name with those RED LIPS AND ROSY CHEEKS that look adorable on you. AND I COULD GO ON AND ON cause THIS LOVE we have for you will last forever. I KNOW many other PLACES you should go with this tour but for now I’ll have to wait. Going back to my excitement, it won’t matter if RAIN CAME POURING DOWN while I‘m on my way to the show, that wouldn’t stop me. IT ALL SEEMNEW AND EXCITING I feel like I’m IN WONDERLAND (forreal lol) I’m gonna have a blast! I CAN HEAR IT IN THE SILENCE. And I know I won’t shut up about it ON THE WAY HOME (or ever). I can almost see it now, I’m gonna be TOO BUSY DANCING to your songs and I’ll SING THEM PROUDLY and once it’s over, I’m gonna CRY happy TEARS OF MASCARA IN THE BATHROOM cause one of my biggest dreams finally came true…”

(ps: PICTURES TURNED OUT TERRIBLE :c this was not what we originally planned to do but anyway, once again here I apologize. Also…I know I’m lying about the red lip thing but I really wanted a color to match the outfit so I thought purple would do, sorry)


SEC 330            ROW 6            SEATS 4 & 5 

@1989costumessigns @1989costumes @1989touroutfits @1989outfitsandposters @taylorswift @taylornationonline

alexhumphreyyy  asked:

Rosie, I just want to say your advice is so helpful to everyone and you are so genuinely kind and it is just so nice to see. I think it's awesome how you try to connect with your fans. You've even helped me cope with a few things in my personal life. It's so cool you help people every day without even realizing it. I so wish I could just have a whole conversation with you because you're absolutely great☺️ ~stay gorgeous~

Thank you so much!! I think the best advice comes from experience. And remember, to gain experience is to make mistakes!! I’ve made loads!!! Sometimes you’ve got to get things wrong to get things right again. People always message me with problems and I’m glad if I can help them even the littlest bit!! xxxxxx :)


oohiremember 🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨 I i i wish you would see what i drew for u!‼️ all the things i do or make for you always takes lots of hours and true dedication! Even the video i made, I stayed up all nite and i didn’t sleep . Little rosie even fell asleep watching me draw you! Alot of love went into this not just cause i love drawing but because i love u! Instead of being sad i cant ever go to art school I’m gunna draw u!and do positive things and messages thru art! U can make me smile when times ar hard like today with my grandma. And Im so proud of u keep up the amazing work . i love u very much and i hope u see my page of all the Swiftie things i do and make ! My goal today for u taylor to see this! Itll make my morning! Ive been drawing so many things of u idk if uve ever seen them 🙈 so i hope u see this one! Since i kinda had a bad morning it all started with my cat scratching my face when i was drawing lol😸 so i hope u and Olivia and mere have a great morning! If anyone could reblog id love u forever 😊 p.s i hope u win a grammy this year u deserve it!
It would mean the world to me if u like this! my goal of the day😊 since i cant go to art school if you like it , that would mean everything! and it wouldn’t matter, cause as long as u like i is all that matters❤️ taylorswift