sod home

odds and Sods that have no home!

pictures not mine I just played

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Teen!Seb and teen!jim are best friends. They are so good friend that they can just walk into each others houses without knocking. Until one day Jim accidentally confesses his love for Seb after he’d been trying to keep it a secret. Seb wants to tell him it’s alright but Jim can’t just stay friends with him so he tells him to sod off and runs home through the rain. When his doorbell rings later that day he opens the door to find Seb standing outside. “Why did you ring the bell?”, jim asks, still in shock because he didn’t expect him to show up after he was so rude to him. Seb just looks at him intensely and says “Because I wanted to do this”. And then he pulls him out into the rain and kisses him with all his relief, all his love for his best friend.

It's Good To Be Home

Hi, I know there’s amazing writers in this fandom and this is nothing in comparison, but its just a little thing because i got bored. Its not really anything. It’s only a little drabble type thing

wandering-soul-7 - thanks again for reading this :) you are so lovely xxxx


Rae was scratching her hand. She shouldn’t be nervous, it had been over 6 years since they got together, properly at least. She should not be nervous. But honestly, bad habits die fucking hard. All those old little thoughts came traipsing in when Finn was gone, he’d be back, but it had had been a long month without him. Rae was still scratching. What if he thought she looked different? What if there was someone else? Some other skinnier prettier girl who he actually deserved to be with? Someone so much better than her? No, Rae, was being ridiculous. He wouldn’t still be with her after all this time if he was going to leave her. He said, just last night, that he loved. Just as she was starting to drift off, the phone hanging limply from her fingers and eyes continually closing slowly and reopening sharply every time she remembered who she was talking to. She couldn’t look away from the door. She needed a distraction.

“Anyone need another drink?” Rae asked the gang. They all had come over to Finn and Rae’s apartment to welcome Finn home, he didn’t want a party, he said that enough times, but the gang isn’t a party, not really. He didn’t even want picked up from the airport, as his boss was driving him home. Bloody sod probably just thinking it would be easier for Rae. Such a selfless prick, sometimes.

The gang all chimed in with a slurred “yes” or “no” or in Chop’s case a “fuck yeah, baby girl!” They had all hit the drink pretty fast and with Finn being late (also not helping Rae’s anxiety), it had created quite an atmosphere. It had been so long since everyone had been together. Going off in all their own ways, they all still caught up with each other but they weren’t teenagers anymore and life got in the way. Chop and Izzy’s first kid, Chloe gorgeous and sweet husband, Archie’s off-again-on-again boyfriend all leading to a bit of a drift in their friendships. Tonight though there were no distractions, mainly because Archie was currently in an off stage and had begged Chloe not to make him the only one alone, and this night was not a night for a crying baby.

Rae walked through to the kitchen to get the drinks, she wasn’t thinking of how there was Fosters in there, enough to last Finn two weeks, that hadn’t been touched. She wasn’t noticing that god forsaken fridge magnet he got her that was a music note with “For May” written at the top, or the bottle opener with a spaceman on it, (which Finn had said was “just like their song”. It wasn’t their song.) And she definitely wasn’t noticing that her favourite people in the world were having a fantastic time and she was in an emotional turmoil caught between extreme excitement and devastating anxiety. No, she didn’t notice any of that.

“You okay, Rae?” She turned to face Archie who was adjusting his glasses, everybody has habits they can’t shake. He always knew though, Archie, the one that spent half his time between Rae and Finn’s and his own flat, he just knew.

So when Rae said, “I’m great,” Archie walked over and gave her a hug.

“He’s coming home. It’s nearly over.”  Rae nodded she should be more excited, she shouldn’t be so worried, this was Finn, her Finn. The Finn that said he wasn’t going to some “posh totty of a conference for people who think they know about music talk about Simply Red and the Specials all day.” That a “whole month was too long”, that “music producing wasn’t that big of a dream”, that “New York was just too far”, that if “Rae wasn’t going then neither was he”. She of course told him he was a dickhead to pass up the opportunity and after quite a blazing row, somehow she convinced him to put his career first for once.  They had sort of made it work; talking on the phone, e-mails, texting, it wasn’t the real thing though. Rae knew that falling asleep listening to Finn tell her she’s beautiful over the phone wasn’t the same as feeling it being spoke into her hair. God, she had missed the bugger.

Archie let Rae go and helped her with the drinks, all while maintaining this overly encouraging smile. Rae laughed, “You look ridiculous with that stupid grin on your face.”

“Well, if that’s what I get for being a good friend, I’ll act like a twat next time.” He said nudging her, they both were laughing when they joined the group, passing out the drinks.

Rae was just about to sit down, still fidgeting but at least the sick, knotting feeling in her stomach had loosened, even if just a little. But what if he suddenly changed his mind? What if he had been lying on the phone? He’s never been very good with words, it’s always easier to just read his expressions, he could have just been waiting until he saw her in person to tell her what he really thought.

No, Rae thought, no, Finn wouldn’t do that. Finn loves her.

 “Hey, hey, Raemundo, you’ll never believe the joke Chloe just fucked up…”

“Hey,” Chloe said not lightly thumping his arm, “You distracted me, you kept going off about that damn elepha-”

The door handle rattled. There was tense atmosphere as the gang collectively took a breath. Really, Rae thought later, they were all exaggerating. It wasn’t like they saw each other every day anyway, but, she figured, they had never been this far apart for so long.

The door opened and Rae was out of her seat before she even realised. He smelled just the same, that was the first thing she noticed, his arms felt just the same too as they wrapped around her waist. He still did that thing where nuzzled his head into her neck, thinking she didn’t know that he was currently smelling her hair. She thanked any and every god that she hadn’t changed her shampoo.

He squeezed her tighter, then moved a tiny fraction to whisper, “It’s good to see you, too.” He chuckled lightly and went to move but Rae wasn’t ready to let go yet. She had to make sure it was her Finn. She pulled far enough away to look at him but still be close enough to see each individual eyelash. His hair, it was longer, needed a cut really, but all in all the same… and his eyes, looking at her as if she’s the greatest Christmas present/birthday present combination ever, were still brown, and getting lighter nearer the pupils. Rae ticked off her check list; freckles, scar, earring, neck, shoulders, those slugs of eyebrows, all Finn. All her Finn.

He raised his eyebrows at her, “Well, I might leave more often if I know I come home to this.”

She laughed, and lightly poked his nose, “Alright, dickhead, just making sure you haven’t fallen flat on your face, God knows where you’d be without me.” Finn smiled at this, but Rae didn’t have time to process that because he wasted no more time and started kissing her. Quite forcefully too, Rae would say, not that she was complaining. It was here, in this moment that Rae realised that all those phone calls and messages the couple had shared, just couldn’t do this, they couldn’t give her those lips that made everything okay. And that’s what Rae was feeling, not only the same immense pleasure and sensations she normally had with his kiss (which were all fantastic) but this relief she knew had been building from the day she saw him go. All those fears about him finding someone else, all those worries of him ‘realising’ he was too good for her, every single bad thought about their relationship dissolved from Rae, leaving only the love they both gave.

Wow, she was watching too many of those shitty movies with Chloe.

“Oi, Finny Boy, get your hands off our Raemundo will ya, and come say hi to the rest o’ us!” Rae felt Finn smile and pull away. He winked at her and went to say his greetings to the rest of the gang. Izzy was the first one to sweep him up in all her glee, before the rest joined in.

Rae watched as they all crowded around him, before she was pulled into the 6-way huddle.


It was 2:30am, the gang had been gone a while and Rae was resting on Finn’s bare chest, his fingers sifting lightly through her hair. Then she heard the words she had thought to herself when she had raced into his arms earlier.

“It’s good to be home.”

He was brushing his teeth in his underwear. || Ron/Hermione || PG-13

He was brushing his teeth in his underwear. She was sitting on the side of the tub in one of his old, faded shirts, swiping her wand across her bare legs to shave them, back toward him.

She shifted, tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. He stared at the mess of her hair, piled on top of her head in a haphazard bun, thick curls falling at random to swirl down the back of her neck.

He sucked in a short breath to speak, hindered by his toothbrush. Shaking his head and smiling, he rinsed his mouth and leaned back against the counter.

She placed her wand on the side of the tub, next to her, and lifted a foot, crossing her ankle over her knee and bending to file her toenails, oblivious to him watching her so closely. Not that she would mind.

This was ordinary. But he felt as if he had suddenly been pulled out of the scene and reminded of love potion, poisoning, an ill dream of her gone from his life for good… a locket, an impulsive choice, firewhiskey on Christmas… alone.

But now, he had this, instead.

“Oi,” he said, voice scratchy with sleep.

She turned to glance at him, over her shoulder. She waited for him to say more, but he shrugged, smiling at her.

“What?” she asked, laughing.

“Just happy.”

Her lips curled gently, and she dropped her foot from her lap, standing and slowly crossing the room, toward him. She smoothed her hair back from her face and stood up on her toes, taking his face between both of her hands and kissing him, softly. He touched her nowhere else, concentrating on the sensation of her lips on his, her warm hands against his cheeks.

She pulled back, blinked in slow motion, and he grinned down at her.

“Sod work. Let’s stay home.”

“Well,” she grinned back at him, “it’s Saturday, so that makes sense.”

His eyebrows shot up.

“Is it really?”

She laughed, shaking her head.

“Didn’t know it was possible for you to lose track of a weekend.”

“What the hell are we doing out of bed?”

“Your alarm went off, so I got up. And you followed me.”

He sighed happily, leaning away from the counter now.

“Right,” he started. “Reckon you’re done with the tub?”

“Not quite,” and her cheeks flushed the softest of pinks, “but I wouldn’t mind company…”

Turning her back on him, she removed her shirt, dropping it to the floor and walking, completely naked, back to the tub.

“My sixteen year old self would hit me right now,” he said, stripping off his boxers and following her.

“You can’t be jealous of yourself,” she grinned, turning up the taps and climbing into the tub.

“Pretty sure he could have managed it,” he smirked, climbing in behind her.

But the lack of touching from moments ago had caught up to him, and he reached forward quickly, clutching her tightly around the waist. She let out a surprised squeak as he pulled her against his chest and buried his face in her hair. She wrapped both hands around his forearms, one across her stomach and the other crossing her chest and shoulders.

“Saturday, you say?” he breathed against her neck.

“Yeah,” she laughed, “they come once a week, you know.”

“Any reason to leave the flat today?” he asked, lifting his head, removing his arm from across her chest and sliding the quill out of her messy bun, releasing her hair to bush around her shoulders and neck.

“None whatsoever.”

His left palm flattened to her stomach and she leaned fully back against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. He ducked his head and kissed her ear, watching with delight as her eyes fluttered shut.

Water sloshed as he leaned against the tile wall behind him, holding her, skin to skin. He kissed his way down the side of her neck, and she squeezed his hand.

He recalled a year ago, the first time he’d seen her naked. He remembered, hazily, the first time she’d left the door open, while taking a shower. They’d stopped being worried. They’d stopped second guessing. And it was bloody perfect.

He couldn’t put into words this feeling of comfort that left them contentedly wrapped in each other. So he breathed in the smell of her warm skin, slid his hand up her ribs, and let his heart beat solidly between her shoulder blades as she kissed the back of his hand.

I am the Smoke King
I am black!
I am swinging in the sky,
I am wringing worlds awry;
I am the thought of the throbbing mills,
I am the soul of the soul-toil kills,
Wraith of the ripple of trading rills;
Up I’m curling from the sod,
I am whirling home to God;
I am the Smoke King
I am black.

I am the Smoke King,
I am black!
I am wreathing broken hearts,
I am sheathing love’s light darts;
Inspiration of iron times
Wedding the toil of toiling climes,
Shedding the blood of bloodless crimes—
Lurid lowering ’mid the blue,
Torrid towering toward the true,
I am the Smoke King,
I am black.

I am the Smoke King,
I am black!
I am darkening with song,
I am hearkening to wrong!
I will be black as blackness can—
The blacker the mantle, the mightier the man!
For blackness was ancient ere whiteness began.
I am daubing God in night,
I am swabbing Hell in white:
I am the Smoke King
I am black.

I am the Smoke King
I am black!
I am cursing ruddy morn,
I am hearsing hearts unborn:
Souls unto me are as stars in a night,
I whiten my black men—I blacken my white!
What’s the hue of a hide to a man in his might?
Hail! great, gritty, grimy hands—
Sweet Christ, pity toiling lands!
I am the Smoke King
I am black.

—  “A Song of Smoke” W. E. B. Du Bois
I learned about this poem during black history month at our high school a couple years ago. It’s been one of my favorite poems ever since.

captainstudmuffin  asked:

I know I ask so much of you, but can you pleeeeaaaase write Charming being a maniac over building a gingerbread house village and CS being recruited for the shenanigans and sneaking candy kisses behind Charming's back? *has a mighty need* T-T

I can deny you nothing, nor do I ever want to.

drops of gum.

He doesn’t understand the need for the small structures made of cookie and candy, nor does he understand why David is quite so feverish over the whole process (muttering under his breath as he places another one of the miniature canes striped white and red as some sort of guide post for the blasted thing) – but he does enjoy the way Emma licks at her bottom lip as she concentrates, golden strands of hair tickling his arm as she leans over him for one of the brightly colored (he does not understand this realms sustenance – he does not) drops of gum.

“They’re gumdrops, Killian. Christ.”

He grins and curls a wayward strand of hair around his finger, tugging lightly as he leans back in his chair, the mug of coffee handed to him balanced with his hook on his knee. The loft is pleasantly warm, soft music humming from the tiny box set up on the end of the table, and he’s not quite sure he’s ever felt more at peace.

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