thanks mary for sending it in

SKAM S04E04 Clip 3 - Don’t Judge Me

NOORA: Hey!
SANA: Hi.
NOORA: What is it?
SANA: I’ve done some research.
NOORA: Okay?
SANA: I know how you’re gonna get over William. What are you doing on Friday?
NOORA: What are we going to do?
SANA: You have to wait and see.
NOORA: No! You know what? I don’t like surprises.
SARA: Hi! Did you see my e-mail?
SANA: Yes, but I haven’t had the time to reply. Can’t you just contact Mari about the payment yourself?
SARA: Yeah, but do you have her e-mail so I can send her the contract proposal?
SANA: Nooo.. Noora, do you have it?
NOORA: I think so, maybe. Just check my e-mail.
SANA: What’s your e-mail then?
NOORA: Loglady997.
SANA: Password?
NOORA: exper5. You haven’t..? It’s a totally normal password.
SANA: How do you write it? E, k, s or..?
NOORA: Oh my God.
SANA: E, x or? C?
NOORA: Yeah, just wait, oh my God don’t judge me for my passwords. Here! Just look there.
SANA: What’s her name? Mari Espeflaten?
NOORA: Yes.
SARA: Thanks! I’ll send you a copy.
SANA: Yes. Okay, you’ll join on Friday? Hello! Come on!
NOORA: Oh my God, how stoked are you?
SANA: Yes. I’m stoked for you getting over William, you know? Because I’m a good friend.
NOORA: Yeah, what are we doing then?
SANA: But-
NOORA: Tell me, tell me.
SANA: Are you joining if I tell you what we’re doing?
NOORA: No!
SANA: Come on, or I won’t tell you.
NOORA: Okay, tell me what we’re doing.
SANA: We’re going to a café.
NOORA: We’re going to a café?
SANA: Yes.
NOORA: That’s.. Which one?
SANA: Now you’re asking too much.
NOORA: No, I’m just wondering.
SANA: It has to be a bit of a surprise.
NOORA: But what are we doing at the café? Are we just having a cup of coffee and enjoy ourselves or is something happening, is it like..?
SANA: It’s not dangerous. It’s just a café. You’ll have to wait and see.
NOORA: Oh, you’ve started rhyming too?*
SANA: Yeah, naturally.
NOORA: I’m coming with. No..
SANA: Never speak to me again.
NOORA: Okay..
SANA: Exper55.. What rhymes with that?

[*Sana says some sentences that rhyme in Norwegian.]

zapdos007  asked:

"But what if she doesn't like the real me"

“But what if she doesn’t like the real me?” Queen Bee asked, looking at the view from Marinette’s balcony. There was a nervous shake to her voice, one that revealed how scared of rejection she really was.

Marinette put a hand over hers and gave her a meaningful look. “If she’s anything like the person you’ve showed me, then there is no way she won’t like you. You’re a great person, Bee, and even if you haven’t always been nice, well… people grow and change, you know? It’ll be alright.” She gave the heroine a reassuring smile before clapping her on the back. “Now get outta here and prepare to talk your mystery lady into forgiving you,” she said with a wink.

“Yeah… yeah! I’ve totally got this!” Bee exclaimed, jumping to her feet. She waved Marinette goodbye and flew off.


“I do not totally have this,” Chloe whispered, her hand held out to knock on the door of a certain baker’s daughter’s residence. She closed her eyes and leaned forward, gently banging her head on the door. “Ugh, she’s never going to like me back.” Another thump against the door. “Even though she said that to Bee, she didn’t know it was me talking about her.” Thump. “Why.” Thump. “Did I.” Thump. “Decide.” Thump. “To do this?” Thump, thump, thump. “God, she’s going to hate meeeehi,MadameDupain-Cheng!” she squeaked when the door suddenly opened. Marinette’s mother stood before her with a kind smile.

“Hello, dear, are you here to see Marinette?” she asked in an equally kind way.

“I, uh, that is-”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll call her down for you. Come in, come in, she’ll be down in a minute,” Sabine told her, ushering her inside. Before heading up the stairs, she gave Chloe a knowing look, which only made Chloe more nervous.

She stood at the bottom of the steps for some time, heart jumping at ever sound that came from the rooms above her. She almost reached for the door to leave when she heard a shout of, “I’m coming!” and a loud crash. It was only a few seconds after that that Marinette slid to the top of the steps and climbed down them, only stopping when Chloe was directly in front of her.

Neither of them said anything, and while Marinette’s eyes bore into Chloe, Chloe’s looked anywhere but at her.

Finally, Marinette spoke. “Can I help you with something, or…?”

“No! I mean, yes! I mean, kind of? Look, I just wanted to say that I’m.” She swallowed down the lump that threatened to form in her throat “I’m sorry. F-for the stuff I’ve done to you. I don’t have any good excuses for what I did, and I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I just. Needed to tell you.” When Marinette didn’t say anything, she slumped in defeat. “Right. I’ll go now, s-”

Her words were cut off by Marinette throwing her arms around her. She froze in place, not even daring to breathe in case it broke the magic of the moment. Unfortunately for her, Marinette moved away anyways (and all too soon, if Chloe were honest with herself).

“I forgive you,” she said brightly, beaming at Chloe.

“You… you do?” she asked, awe in her voice and expression.

“Sure. You seem sincere enough, and I think this is like… the first time you’ve ever actually said sorry to someone. You didn’t make any excuses and you didn’t try to place the blame elsewhere. That’s really admirable. So, I forgive you.”

“Thank you,” Chloe breathed, sighing in relief. “I think I should, um, go now? But maybe in school we could start. Talking. And helping with makeup. And things.”

“That sounds lovely,” Marinette agreed. She waved goodbye when Chloe did, and just before the door closed behind her, Marinette called out, “Oh, and Chloe!” Chloe turned to listen. “I want you to know that I meant it when I told you you were a great person.”

Chloe smiled. “Thanks, Marinette.” The door closed, and only when she was halfway home did she realized that Marinette hadn’t said anything about her being great during their conversation. She did, however, tell Bee that she was great.

Her limo was filled with a shriek and a plea for the driver to bring her back to the Dupain-Cheng’s.


Send me a sentence starting a fic and I’ll write 5(+) more!  No longer accepting prompts for this from this point on!

SKAM Season 4 Episode 4 Clip 3: Don’t judge me

Noora: Hello!

Noora: What is it?

Sana: I’ve done some research

Noora: Okay?

Sana: I know how you’ll get over William. What are you doing on Friday?

Noora: What are we doing now?

Sana: You’ll find out.

Noora: No! You know I don’t like surprises.

Sara: Hi! Did you read my e-mail?

Sana: Uh yeah, but I haven’t had time to reply, but can’t you just contact Mari yourself about payment?

Sara: Yeah, but do you have her mail, so I can send her the contract proposal?

Sana: No, Noora, do you?

Noora: I think, maybe … Just check mine. 

Sana: What’s your e-mail?

Noora: loglady997

Sana: Password?

Noora: exper …

Sana: Huh?

Noora: exper5?

Sana: eksp ..

Noora: exper. Exper5! Haven’t you heard …?

Sana: How do you write … E-K-S?

Noora: Oh my god. 

Sana: With an X or a C or …?

Noora: Wait! Oh my god, don’t judge me. Here, then you can just look at this!

Sana: What’s her name? Mari Aspeflaten?

Sara: Thanks. I’ll attach you to a copy. 

Sana: Yes. *to Noora* OK. But you’ll join on Friday? Oh, come on!

Noora: Oh my god, so geared you are!

Sana: I’m geared on you getting over William. That’s why. I’m a good friend. 

Noora: What are we doing? Say it. Say it. 

Sana: Are you coming if I say it?

Noora: No! Come on. 

Sana: Okay, we’re going on a café.

Noora: Café? That’s … which one?

Sana: Now you’re asking a lot. Some of it has to be a surprise. 

Noora: What are we going to do at the café? Just drink coffee and get cozy?

Sana: It’s nothing dangerous. It’s just … a café. The rest you’ll see.

Noora: And now you’re rhyming too?

Sana: Yes, you’re paying attention!

Noora: I’ll come with … No …

Sana: exper5 … What rhymes with that?

jerseydevious  asked:

HI I WOULD LIKE TO NICELY AND KINDLY SUGGEST BRUCE CUDDLING FOUR (4) GRANDBABIES THAT MAKE FUN OF HIS CREAKY BONES AND WRINKLY CHIN. SNUGGLES. THEY ALL FALL ASLEEP ON EACH OTHER. OTHER OPTIONS INCLUDE BRUCE HOLDING A GRANDBABY FOR THE FIRST TIME. I BEG U FOR BABIES THAT IS ALL

Shh, sweetheart

Her name was Mary.

Mary Martha Grayson.

He held her gently, cradled in his arms like something precious - and she was, she was precious beyond measure, she was beautiful and perfect and he would die for this little girl in less than a beat of her tiny heart. Her eyes were closed and she slept peacefully, but Bruce had heard her first cries hardly an hour before.

They had been loud and strong and the sound had taken his breath away. He had gone weak at the knee and his chest had tightened so much he’d thought it might burst.

And now he was holding her, wrapped up in her little blanket with her little cap on her head, gazing down at her little face and not even trying to hold back the tears that came to his eyes.

“Bruce?” Dick said softly. He stood beside him, eyes still red-rimmed from crying his own tears of joy at Mary’s birth. “Are you…?”

Bruce looked up, from his granddaughter to his son, and smiled so widely it hurt. His vision was blurred, but he laughed, snuggling Mary closer to his chest and leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“I love her,” he whispered. “I love her so much, Dick. She’s beautiful.”

Mary snuffled in her sleep and shifted a bit, making a tiny, barely-audible squeak.

If Bruce’s heart hadn’t already melted to a puddle on the floor an hour ago, it most certainly would have now.

“Shh, sweetheart,” he murmured. “You can sleep. I’ve got you.”


Six years later…

“Granpa?” Little hands prodded him shyly. “Granpa? Are you awake?”

Bruce opened his eyes blearily and turned his head toward the small, quiet voice. After a second of adjusting to the darkness of the room, he saw Mary’s face at the side of his bed, pale and frightened and wet with tears.

He was awake instantly, lifting his head up off his pillow and stretching his arm out to her, careful not to wake the other children. He brushed away her tears gently, and she brought her hands up to wrap around his wrist.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he whispered. “Are you okay? Did you have another nightmare?”

Mary nodded silently, bottom lip trembling. Bruce’s heart broke a little; Mary was unfortunately prone to nightmares, and it was rare that she went more than two or three weeks without one. She would wake up from them crying and go to her parents, and Dick and Barbara would let her sleep with them for the rest of the night.

And since she was staying the night with Bruce, Dick and Barbara having been blindsided by some urgent business in Metropolis, she had come to him.

He pulled back the covers and patted the bed beside him. “Climb in here with me,” he said softly. “But try to be quiet, okay? We don’t want to wake the others.”

Mary clambered up, glancing at the three sleeping children that also shared his bed tonight. Her siblings the twins, four-year-old Jade and Jasmine, lay curled around each other like kittens on top of his legs, which had gone numb. Peter - Tim’s son, little Petey, almost two - was on top of him, sprawled across his chest and left arm, which was also numb.

Mary tucked herself against his side, snuggling close as he put his free arm around her. “Do you remember your bad dream?” he asked quietly. He felt Mary shake her head no, and he ran his fingers through her soft hair comfortingly. “That’s alright,” he murmured. “Whatever it was, it can’t hurt you.”

Mary buried her face into his side. “It was scary,” she whispered.

With a bit of maneuvering, he twisted enough so he could press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Shh, sweetheart. You can sleep. I’ve got you.”


I DIDN’T GET EVERYTHING YOU ASKED FOR BUT I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

(the google doc for this was titled ‘BATMAN + BABIES’. I felt that was something you’d appreciate knowing)

@canthydefromthelicht sent me kuromahi + new year’s festival so here’s a little thing we kinda wrote together :3


At a New Year’s festival, Mahiru clings to Kuro while Kuro’s eating cotton candy so they won’t get separated. Despite not being Mahiru’s usual behavior, Kuro finds in himself that he doesn’t dislike it as much as he should. Maybe ‘cause it’s Mahiru and not someone else. 

Yet, he sighs and mutters his well known 'can’t deal’ as they make their way into the crowd. Meanwhile, Mahiru can feel his heart racing and his cheeks turning a bright shade of red, whilst he avoids any possible eye contact with his partner.

“Want some?” Kuro says, his words startling Mahiru “Cotton candy, I mean" 

"N-No, I’m good. Thanks” being aware of how close they are, Mahiru can’t look Kuro in the eye

“Are you planning to avoid me for the rest of the night?” the vampire’s voice has a little bit of disappointment on his tune as he say so “Should I remind you this was your idea to begin with?" 

Kuro?

"I just came here because you said there was something you wanted to show me” Mahiru’s hold gets tighter on his arm, as the words sink in “What was it? The thing you wanted to show me”

“..works” he mumbles, Kuro tilting his head in response “I want you to see the fireworks with me!" 

That’s the first time Mahiru lock eyes with Kuro that night..

9

@casisnotalright submitted:

Fun fact! At the company I work for, we do large weddings, including celebrity weddings, so a common scene in the shop is me crying over the 100th or so arrangement in the same style I’ve made since 8 am and then the one gay guy (freaking Tim) gets to do the single bridal bouquet and I c r y. (I think Yuuri would be me and Mari would be Tim)

HAHA Probably when they worked with their parents when they were younger Mari would absolutely be Tim. 

I think since Yuuri is usually in the shop now his parents and Mari take care of the heftier order arrangements! 

This was so nice of you to send, thank you! I’m learning lots from the florists who view this AU, so I’m always glad to hear from you guys!

percyyoulittleshit  asked:

♔: Finding the other wearing their clothes- Percy and Annabeth

♔ finding the other wearing their clothes | Percabeth 

warning: dork alert


If there was one thing in this world that Percy was good at, it was losing things. It was like a superpower. If he’d been a superhero instead of a demigod, his ability would be to lose things. 

Well, that or being able to, like, play the harmonica. 

As good as Percy was at losing things, his yellow sweater shouldn’t have been so hard to find. His “closet” - more like the floor or any flat surface he could toss clothes on - consisted of mainly dark colors, with a lot of blue. His sweater would stick out like a bright fish swimming in dark waters. 

“Annabeth?” he called. “Hey, babe—”

Oh, right. She’d gone out only an hour ago to run some errands; she’d probably be back soon. Percy checked the time and winced. 

“Where is it?” he hissed, tugging the drawers open again even though he’d looked through them three times now. Percy shoved his clothes to the side and found a striped sock instead. 

“Not the time,” he told the left sock. “Nope. Why is it that everything goes missing and shows up at the wrong time?” 

Percy tossed the offending sock back into the drawer and used his foot to push it shut. He crossed his arms and looked around the room. Curled up on the rug, Yuki lifted her head to look at him, then whined. 

“I know, girl,” he said, sliding down to the floor so he could run a hand over her floppy ears. “Losing stuff sucks.”

She pushed her wet nose into his hand in response. 

“At least someone gets me,” Percy grumbled. He threw up his hands. 

Rachel had asked him ages ago to take part in a photoshoot for saving the bees, and he’d agreed, albeit a bit warily. She’d promised there’d be no glitter or gold paint, so Percy figured it couldn’t be too bad. 

“What am I gonna do, Yuki? Hey, Rach, I hope it’s okay if I’m wearing orange to save the bees—”

A horrible thought occurred to him. 

Percy twisted his fingers together and went to the other side of the room, where Annabeth had her own set of drawers. Their clothes still generally tended to end up in each other’s drawers, but they kept them anyway. He tugged open the top drawer and was greeted with rows of bras and panties, most of them simple but a few lacy with lots of strings. 

He shut the top drawer as quickly as possible, trying desperately not to imagine Annabeth in them — the black one against her warm skin, his fingers sliding under the straps, his lips on hers, then down her neck and—

“Sweater,” he said aloud, sucking in a deep breath. “Sweater.”

He found one in the second drawer. Annabeth’s was a paler yellow - more pastel and quite pretty. He pulled it out, letting it unfold, and Percy grinned. It was perfect. The sleeves were longer than he’d expected, so it’d kind of fit, and there was even a little bee right over the heart. 

Percy took off his shirt and slipped Annabeth’s sweater on. In the mirror in the corner, his reflection stood; he looked at himself and found that it didn’t look half-bad. 

The sweater was just a bit short. Percy tugged at it uncomfortably. On him, it was more like a crop top than anything, which meant he’d be baring his midriff on camera today. At second thought, the sweater seemed like just the kind of thing Rachel would approve of. 

On the bed, his phone buzzed and lit up. 

On your way yet? 

He looked at the time. It was a thirty-minute drive over to Rachel’s studio, so it was just about time to leave. 

Yep. 

On the floor, Yuki’s ears raised. She stood, shaking herself, and looked out of the bedroom excitedly. A second later, the sound of the key in the lock rang through the apartment. 

He shoved his phone in his pocket and grabbed the backpack he’d had ready, slinging it over a shoulder. 

The door opened, and Annabeth stepped in. 

“Hey, Percy,” she said absentmindedly, dropping the keys in the little dish by the door and pulling her sunglasses down. She was carrying the groceries, but that wasn’t what made Percy stop. It was the sweater she was wearing - a mustard yellow color, the sleeves long and the sweater baggy, falling to her thighs. 

“Oh,” he said, and she turned to find him still staring at her. “So that’s where it went.”

“Where what—” Annabeth said before looking down. She lifted her eyes back up towards him and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s really comfy, okay? And is that… is that my sweater?”

He crossed his arms defensively, striding across the room to meet her. “You stole mine first, you thief.”

“Mmhm,” she hummed, looking up at him. Percy couldn’t help it; his mind went back to that top drawer, and he put his arms around her, fingers pressing against the soft sweater at her back. 

“You look nice,” Annabeth continued, and her eyes flicked down to his stomach before flicking back up. Her voice had gone low. “I like this on you.”

Long, calloused fingers found his bare skin; Annabeth’s hands slid up his back, lingering for a moment at his Achilles’ Heel. He shuddered, and Annabeth lifted on her toes to kiss him. 

“Going to Rachel’s?” she asked against his lips.

“Yeah,” he mumbled back, but now that she was in his arms, it was a lot harder to leave.

“Just don’t go,” Annabeth said, and kissed him again. “Stay here with me.”

“That’s a really bad idea,” he said. 

“You’re good at that,” she said, smiling. 

“Yeah,” Percy said. He showed up to Rachel’s half an hour late. 

‘non sexual,’ i said, then proceeded to imply lots of stuff while crying. im sorry mari it wasnt supposed to be like this,,

but… thank u so much i’ve missed percabeth and i struggled with pjo and this made me feel really good it was so good to write <3 

pick one of the following and send me a pairing! (non-sexual acts of intimacy)

First Comes Love, Then Comes Marriage...

Pairings: Dean x Reader (Series Rewrite Setting)
Word Count: 8,896. 
Summery: The boys have been gone for over a month now. But after being reunited once again with the man you love, there’s a surprise waiting for him. 
Warnings: Spoilers for season eleven and twelve! “First Blood” to be exact. (If you squint just enough, this just might be considered a rewrite.) Mary might be a bit OOC. Also, mentions of pregnancy/miscarriages.

Originally posted by out-in-the-open

I know what you’re thinking; Shouldn’t this be the second part to “Sam, Interrupted” and not some drabble that turned into a monster, Danielle?! Sigh. I’m so far behind on writing/this season in general. But this came out after I have been wondering what might happen in season twelve with the reader in my rewrite series. (As some of my amazing followers sent in some ideas of their own.) You don’t need to have read it to enjoy, but since a lot of people seem to like the dynamics between the both of them, I decided to give you guys a treat! Also, “Swamp Meat” rewrite for my lovely Sam girls is in the works, too. ;) For those who want to embark on a fourteen page journey that took me two days to write, enjoy! 

Keep reading

Huntress- Part 14: Pick A Side

Sam x Daughter!Reader, takes place in S12 E13 so warning: SPOILERS

Part one
Part two
Part three
Part four
Part five

Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
Part Eleven
Part Twelve

Part Thirteen

“Please…just hear me out…” Mary begs, her eyes were stern.

You raised an eyebrow at her, not saying anything.

“What they’re doing…what we’re doing it’s better. The British Men Of Letters are…well, loo I’m not blind to who they are and what they’ve done.” She looked at you when she said that.
“When?” Your Dad asked, clenching his jaw.
“When….when did you start working with them?”
“Before the lakehouse…It wasn’t Wally who gave me the case, it was them.” Mary looked down.
“Cas nearly died!” Uncle Dean shouted at her.
“I know…”
“Another Hunter died.” Dad added.
“I know. I was the one who burned his body, who told his wife… I see him die every night.”
“Good.”

“I’m playing three decades of catch-up here.” Mary argued, turning the subject back to herself.
“We’re not!” Uncle Dean snapped. “We’re your sons, you have a granddaughter for Gods sake!” 

“I’m not just a Mom. And you are not a child.” Mary spoke through gritted teeth.
“I never was.” Uncle Dean changed his tone back to a quieter and calmer voice.

“You’ve made your choice, Mary.” You looked up when he used her real name “The doors there.” 

With that Uncle Dean stepped out of the room, no doubt to his own.

You stood up with your Dad, both watching as he turned the corner.

“Sam…” Mary whispered.

“You should go.”

“Y/N…”

Dad turned to leave, but stopped to see your response, hovering in the doorway.

You gulped, not sure what to say. You didn’t trust them at all. Hell, you lived with them, you were raised among them and you still didn’t know half of what goes on. But you didn’t hate them. 
They weren’t fair, kind or honest, but they were good at what they did.

“Please, you know more than any of us about the British Men Of Letters. Am I doing the right thing?” She asked, begging for someone to assure her.

Uncle Dean crept back, standing behind Dad to see what you’d say.

You avoided everyone’s gaze “The way they see it,” You spoke slowly and quietly “If you’re working with em, then you trust em. So you can’t turn back now. Don’t mess up. Cause I ain’t gonna be there to clean the stab wound in your back.”


“I’m fed up of this whole peace maker crap!” Uncle Dean’s voice made you slow down as you headed towards the main room. “You’re always playing the middle, for once just pick a side!” 
He stormed out, almost walking into you. “You’re quiet when you move, anyone ever tell you that?” 
You found it hard to know whether or not he was joking, but smiled awkwardly none the less. “I’m outta here.” Uncle Dean mumbled, walking away.

“He seems happy.” You sarcastically noticed, walking in on your Dad. Dad placed his phone screen-down on the table, cleared his throat and smiled at you. “Hey, Y/N. You okay?” 
“Mmhmm. What’re you doing?” You nodded towards his phone.
“I’m not texting anyone!”
“You know, it works better if I accuse you first.” You smirked.

Dad looked down, sighing. “Mom.”

“Eh?”

“I was texting Mom. She uh,” He picked his phone up and showed you the screen “She wants to meet. Say’s it’s urgent.”

“Yeah, I got that.” You hold your screen up tom showing the exact same text.

He frowned, nodding slowly. “Okay…should we go?”

You sighed “I guess.”


Dad pulled the car up, stopping in front of some sort of giant gate where Mary stood the other side. It looked a lot like one of their old temporary base camps they had scattered around the counties back in England.

You got out, sending her a suspicious frown. Mary smiled shyly “Thank you for coming.”
“What’s so urgent?” Dad asked, not buying any niceness.
“Look, Sam, Y/N…I messed up. But this. This is so much bigger than we are. We’ve got a real shot here.”
“Don’t you think I know that.” You snapped.
“Y/N, I don’t know what kind of history you have with them. But they’re not the same people you grew up with. They want to help.”
“I know. I’m not stupid.” You hissed.
“Just….imagine a world without monsters of demons-” Mary began but you finished it for her. “-or any of those little buggers that go bump in the night. Of a world where no one has to die because of the supernatural. A new world. A better world.” 

“How do you know what he said?” Mary asked.
You rolled your eyes “Because he says the same bloody thing every time.”

She nodded slowly before retreating to place her hand on the lock. The gate clicked open and she stepped aside “Let me show you.”
As you walked through the camp, you wondered if your hand would still unlock the gate. Maybe it would…maybe it wouldn’t…would it even matter?

A little reluctant to show your face, you stayed close to Dad. He noticed you were more clingy than usual, but didn’t say anything.
“Look.” Mary held her hand out to the series of monitors, endless screens showing all sorts of things. This was nothing compared to what was at the Chapter House. “You do realise I’ve seen all this before.”You grumbled.
“I guess it’s me showing you what you walked away from.” Mary answered back- to your surprise.

“Sam Winchester.” Micks voice made you look away, “And Y/N Winchester-Brooks.” He smiled, clearly happy to see that you both showed up. You noticed he’d used both surnames.
“Hows the American hunting life been treating you?” He asked you, clearly wanting to separate you from your Dad.
“It’s different.” You shrugged.
Very different.” Mick agreed.
“That does’t make it bad.” You added. In fact, you preferred the way American Hunting worked, it was more fun if nothing else.

“You’re just in time for the briefing. Remember how we exterminated all the vampires in the Uk and Ireland?” Mick looked at you again.
“Yeah.”
“Guess what we’re gonna do.” He chuckled, leading the way.

You looked at Dad, as if waiting for him to say you could go on after him. Mary went on, Dad looked at you. You shrugged, “Your call.”
Sighing, he put an arm gently on your back and you headed over.

The room wasn’t particularly large, but it had a long table running through the center with some computer screens at the front. Each of which had a map on it, numbers and symbols ran along the sides.

Mary sat down,but you and Dad remained standing.

“Everyone, we’ve got a few new faces.” Mick declared.

“This is Pierce, an American Hunter. This is Sam Winchester, Mary’s son. And you all know Brooks…Y/N.”

Serena and Alton looked at you, both with unreadable expressions. “Back already, are we?” Alton questioned.
You scowled at him “Still a wimp, are we?”
“Am not.” He stood proudly, you took one stride forward towards him. Immediately he retreated a little.
“Are to.”

“We are not children.” Mick sighed “So shut up the pair of ya.” 

“In the mid western region we mapped out every single location of each of the vampires,” Serena gestured towards the screen “Over a period of a few months, we’ve managed to eliminate all but,” She pressed a button and the numbers began to disappear before you all “11.”

“Wait, what?” Dad questioned, tilting his head.

“There’s a sort of underground chain of Vampires, with one a the very top-”

“The Alpha.” Dad filled in, nodding slowly.

“Exactly. We plan to eliminate every last bloodsucker in the entire country. Eventually, America will be vampire-less.” Mick explained.

As the briefing continued going into more and more details you couldn’t care less about you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. You thought you’d finally escaped the dull life that was being part of the Men Of Letters, as a kid there was no freedom. You did whatever they told you to do. You’d finally gotten out and here you were being dragged in again…of all people to be the one to take you back, it was your own family.

You weren’t against the British Men Of Letters, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t hold some sort of grudge against them. Technically, they killed your Mum….and your sister. But, technically they didn’t. There were two different perspectives and at this point you didn’t know which was worse.

Too busy staring off into space to notice the briefing was over, Mick broke you form your thoughts. “So, what do you think of our little operation?” He asked, clearly directing the question at your Dad.
“Serena and Alton are smart…Pierce is…well…pierce.”  Dad sighed, no doubt thinking a lot more than speaking.
“Y/N…Anything?” Mick raised an eyebrow. You were amazed he actually wanted to know what you thought. 
You shrugged “There’s not much to say. It worked in England…so why can’t it work over hear?”

Mick nodded “I’m glad you’re as confident in it as I am.”
You stuttered, lost for words in a response. You weren’t expecting him to say that, let alone twist your words. He chuckled before leaving you be.

“You okay?” Dad asked, looking down at you.
“Sure…let’s go with that.” 
He scoffed “Y/N, I’m serious. If you don’t want to be here-”

“Guys!” A worried cry interrupted him, reluctantly dragging your attentions away. Everyone huddled around the screen, watching curiously. Vampires spread out on screen, beginning to surround the buildings.

“We need to go on lockdown.” You broke the silence. Everyone sprung into action. Mary grabbed a walkie-talkie and ordered “Stand down. Do not engage.” as you ducked out of the room to go and check that the doors were all sealed up. You twisted the handles, waiting for a red light and steamed hiss to sound before moving on to the next. 

After checking and double checking that they were all as secure as they could be, you raced back into the room, twisting round corners and heading straight for where the noise was. Inside, your Dad was leaning forward, holding a vampire by his neck.
“How did they even find us?!” Mick questioned.
“Calm down, you’re panicking.” You shushed him, getting a knife and laying it on the table.
“He told us. Our Father.” The Vampire laughed. You frowned, glancing at Dad. 
“The Alpha.” Dad declared.
Before the Vampire could say anything else Mary swung at it with her blade in a scything motion, cleaning cutting through the neck. It fell to the floor, making Alton grimace. 

It amazed you how many people had never been trained or accustomed to field-work.

“Where’s the avd?” You asked.
“In the armory. Along with most of our weapons.”
“If we put it through the vents it should take them all out.” Mary suggested, following your train of thought.
“Exactly, let’s go get it.” 

“Will it kill him…will it kill the Alpha?” Mick asked. “Not wanting to be the bearer of bad news, but he does seem to be a big issue for us.”

“It’ll weaken him,” Dad piped up “But he won’t die from it.”

You watched Mick’s face as it turned to realisation. Him and Mary shared a look that said they were both thinking the same thing. You frowned.
“Where is it?” Mary asked.

After a few minutes of confused waiting Mick appears back and places down some sort of case. He unhooked the clips and opened it up, swerving it round on the table slightly to both you and your Dad could see it. “What is it?” You asked curiously, racking your brain to try and think of if you’d ever seen it before.
“The colt.” Dad answered bluntly, lifting it up in his hands delicately. His face was of amazement as he held it out in front of himself like he couldn’t quite believe it was tangible and there in front of him. “There are only five things in existence it can’t kill.” 
“Geez.” You mumbled, noticing the empty barrel “Too bad it’s out of ammo.” You noted before asking “Can we make some?”

“Yeah actually we can.” Dad nodded, as if struggling to get rid of a reoccurring thought. Unable to stop it he asked “Where did you get this?”

“I stole it.” Mary admitted.

“From Ramiel…that’s what he meant when he asked.” You realised aloud.

Mary nodded “Yes…I-” But she stopped herself, maybe she knew that there was no getting out of this. You couldn’t help but feel betrayed. Cas nearly died, Ramiel offered to leave if someone owned up and yet she didn’t? You couldn’t have done that if it was you….

“Okay, uh….here’s how.” Dad began writing down on a piece of paper the instructions on how to make bullets. He thrusted it into Micks hands before picking up one of the weapons laid out on the table.
“Where’s the armory?” 

“I’ll show you.” Mary decided. You grabbed a blade and followed on, Pierce did the same, calling out “I’ve got your back.”
You sighed, but didn’t question it.

Sprinting through the corridors, you came to halt, waiting in anticipation as your Dad reaches for the handle. The light changed from red to green before the door swung open. Immediately, two vampires were clawing at the open space desperately trying to get inside. Dad slammed the door back as far as it would go, holding them back. “Go!” He shouted “I’ve got em!”

Mary and Pierce nodded, racing off to go the back way. You steadied yourself, gripping the blade in your hand before looking at your Dad. “Open it.” You nodded.

He hesitated, but leaped forward trustingly, allowing the pair of bloodsuckers access. You ducked at their oncoming attack, parrying to the right then slicing through their neck. You felt the individual parts of the inside, the vessels, muscles and bones each broken by the blade as it cut through. The head fell to the floor, shortly followed by the body. You then ducked as another came straight for you. Thankfully, Dad had found his feet by then and had your back. He kicked the vampire away from you, allowing both of you time to adjust. Dad then stepped in front of you and sliced the head off.

Heavily breathing, he patted your shoulder lightly before nodding to himself “Okay, lets go.”

You both raced towards the armory, still highly aware how time was slipping away. “Dad!” You called, almost running into Mary’s collapsed body.
You knelt down next to her, holding her up a little.
“Y/N?” He turned the corner, lowering his knife at the sight. “Mom!”

“Y/N…?…Sam…?” Mary groaned, her eyes blinking awake.

“What happened?” You asked, glancing behind yourself in case of another unexpected attack. “Pierce…he…we should go.” Mary heaved herself up onto her feet, staring at the floor You followed her eye-line, falling upon the broken up avd. “Shit.” You cursed “What do we do now?”
“One problem at a time.” Dad nodded, making sure he kept calm for your sake “We deal with the Alpha first.”
“But-”
“Mick’s making some bullets, we just have to tr-” Dad stopped himself.
“Trust him?” You offered, hoping your dislike for the phrase was evident in your expression.
“Yeah. Let’s go with that.” He offered a tight smile.


You crept into the room where the Alpha vampire was talking proudly. Serena was on the floor, dead eyes staring up at the ceiling, speckles of blood reflecting the light. You winced a little at the sight, you’d always liked Serena. She had guts. 
Dad held the Colt up, making himself and thus you and Mary known to the Alpha.

“Sam Winchester.” He chuckled. His voice was deep and disconcerting. He had a large black trench coat over his casual-smart dress sense. His skin was dark, his eyes darker and his hands had long red nails where he could drain his victims. You grimaced at the sight, having never seen an Alpha of a species before. Maybe he liked keeping himself to himself. Who could blame him?

“You know there are only five things in existence that thing can’t kill, I’m one of them.” He declared. You watched, was that true? Surely Dad would have known…
“If that were true I’d already be dead.” Dad countered. You only hoped he was right.

“I have many many children,” The Alpha continued, pretending to ignore your Dad “What’s one or two here and there.”

“Exactly.” Dad agreed, You watched, hoping your Fathers ability to manipulate was as promising as it sounded.
“Let my daughter, my Mom and myself go. Then things can go back to the way they should be. Cops and Robbers, Hunters and Vampires a fair fight!” 
Dad sounded so confident in his lie you almost believed it to. 
“And the Brits?” 
“Have them.” Dad snarled.

“You bastard!” Mick had obviously caught on and “attacked” your Dad.
You watched, impressed how smoothly it went. As Mick launched himself at your Father, his hand moved so Dad took hold of the bullet. Dad twisted his body, loading the gun away from the Alpha’s line of sight and threw Mick off.
He then turned back and aimed the gun once more.

The Alpha chuckled- oblivious. “You and I both know that gun isn’t loaded Sam.”

Dad smirked “Isn’t it?”

The Alpha twitched, as if going back in time and realising what had just happened. “No…” He mumbled, still coming to terms with his possible end. His eyes widened, and, as if coming to terms with his end his whole stance relaxed: “Clever. Clever boy.” He smiled.

A shot rang out through the halls: perfect aim. Straight through the alphas forehead. His body shook when waves of electricity surged through his body, jolting him to death. He collapsed- dead.


“Back later, huh?” Dean rolled his eyes at his brother.
“Getting a drink, huh?” Sam remarked, holding back a chuckle.

“When I thought something might have happened to you, I came running…nothing else really matters…” Uncle Dean turned to face his Mother. “Mom….it’s not your job to make me lunch or kiss me goodnight and I get that.” Dean turned to look at his Mum “We’re adults. And you can make your own choices or your own decisions. I don’t have to like em. I guess I’ve just gotta get used to that. Okay?”

“Yeah.” Mary smiled, proud of her boys.

The clanging of chains, made the three Winchesters turn around to see Mr Ketch as he hauled Pierce away. “Where are you taking him?” Sam asked.

“We have a way of dealing with Hunters who go rogue, they aren’t pleasant. Are they Y/N?” 
You glanced up at the sound of your name, having only just arrived at the scene. You were busy putting some weapons back in the armory.
“Eh?” You scrunched up your face.
“The way in which we treat our rebellious Hunters. ie, your Mother.” Mr K said before leaving. You scowled at him even though he wasn’t looking. ‘Great’ You thought ‘that’s another awkward topic to bring up later.’

You walked over to your family, purposely avoiding their confused faces. “We going or what?” You asked, looking up,

“Uh, one moment.” Dad put a finger up and made his way over to Mick. You watched, turning back round to Uncle Dean and Mary. “Pie?” You asked Uncle Dean, making him grin and hopefully forget about awkward questions in the process.
Nodding, his eyes lit up “Pie.” 


“What happened to Y/N’s Mom and sister?” Sam asked, looking Mick directly in the eye. He kept his voice low, aware you could hear if they spoke any louder.
Mick whistled “That’s a biggie. Pick one.”
“Her Mom.”
“Rebecca? Like Ketch said, she went rogue.”
“Why? How?”
“Look, it’s not my place to say what happened to Becky,” Sam noted the use of “Becky” but didn’t say anything “Ask Y/N.”
“Okay…and Max? Her twin sister right?”
“So she told you, huh?” Mick raised an eyebrow “Y/N’s had it rough. But she’s a toughie.”
“What happened to my Daughter?” Sam asked sternly. The fact that Sam reminded Mick how Max was in fact his daughter changed something slightly in Mick’s mind. “If you’re so bleeding curious why don’t you ask your other one?!” Mick snapped, making Y/N turn to look. Thankfully, she didn’t watch for long before going back to whatever conversation she was having.

“I’m just trying to make sure that you didn’t…kill her for no good reason…either of them.” Sam was struggling to talk about it. This was technically his family. Even if it never felt like it.
“They didn’t.”
They?” Sam echoed.
“Well I didn’t do it, did I?” Mick sighed.
“If I ask Y/N, she won’t tell me that you straight out killed her? There had to be a reason.”
“There was. For both cases. A perfectly good reason. Sam. Ask her.”

Sam thought about it for a while, running through the ideas in his head. Weighing ups and downs on imaginary scales before settling with his conclusion. He took in a deep breath and said it before he could stop himself.

“I’m in.” Sam nodded slowly.
“Sorry?” Mick frowned, surprised to hear it after such a conversation.
“Tonight was bad, don’t get me wrong. But the Alpha Vampire is dead. You’re changing the world and I wanna be a part of it.”
“And your brother?”
“Give me some time…” Sam paused, watching as Y/N laughed with her Uncle. He felt a shimmer of guilt try and surface. “Aren’t you gonna ask about Y/N?” 



Part 15- Ramsey

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A/N: Sorrry for the late posting! Busy busy week! Tysm for reading you lovely people uwu

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One. Zero. One. Three. Part 2 (An Adlock + Mary Fanfiction)

(Before I start, I just wanted to say that I didn’t expect I will write a second part to this, nor will I have people asking me to, so thanks so much for loving PART ONE. Thanks to battledressthemissadventurer, and thestorywelovebest for the extra motivation!)

Originally posted by gerlocked

There was no point in arguing. 

Sherlock found himself staring out an airplane window, bound for almost a twelve-hour trip to Phuket. Beside him, Mary was reading Restless by William Boyd, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose to see under the passengers’ designated reading light. 

The detective could recall the controlled protests of John when Mary called to asked that before the wedding, it’ll be best to pay Harry a visit and stay the night. Mary passed it off as a weird, cleansing and soul-healing tradition thing that Sherlock found quite absurd, and yet his friend had bought it and agreed. 

Giving them at least two days to spare, it simply felt like an exhausting excursion, or, as Mary puts it, her preferred pre-wedding celebration in place of a bridal shower. 

Still, he could feel his entire body tingling, a disturbing sense of nervousness and excitement that sends an aching sensation at the pit of his stomach. Excusing himself from his seat, he headed to the loo to give his face a quick wash, and to replenish the nicotine patches he has in his arm since the night before. Tapping three new ones firmly over his skin, he headed back, trying hard not to picture Irene Adler’s smirk when he explains why he and Mary decided to pay a visit. 


Taking off his coat and scarf as the heat of the tropics hit him, Sherlock looked over to Mary’s grinning face with a sigh. 

“Well, go on. Give her a call.” Mary instructed, plainly going by her tone that it was an immediate order. 

Sherlock rolled his eyes, knowing that there was nothing more that he could do. He took out his phone and pressed on Irene’s number, hoping that she was still in the country and that his silent anticipation was not wasted. 

He knows that it was plain stupid for him to agree to this trip without letting Irene know firsthand that he was flying over, but all rationality was thrown to the side as he realised he would need time to prepare what is to be said regarding the matter. 

After several rings and his patience almost at the brink of expiring, Irene Adler finally answered. 

“I’m assuming that you’re calling to let me know you have arrived. I had arranged for someone to pick you and Mary up and bring you to my hotel. He should be carrying a sign. Code names in place, as usual.” Irene simply said before ending the call, and Sherlock was sure she had a smile playing on her lips as she did. 

He looked aside to Mary, whose eyes were scanning the room as if she was in sync with Irene said, and her eyes stopped at a kind-looking man holding up a sign saying William Scott and Maria Watson

“Come now, dear. There’s our ride.” Mary mused casually, tugging on the bewildered detective. 

“For Ms. Norton.” Mary greeted, and the driver nodded, gladly assisting them with their luggage. 

The soon-to-be Mrs. Watson rolled her eyes playfully at Sherlock’s continuous glare, and simply gestured that they should start occupying the backseat of the car. 

When the wheels started rolling, Sherlock couldn’t help but cuss under his breath. 

“Something the matter, dear?” Mary asked teasingly, tapping Sherlock on the arm. 

“When did both of you have the time to plan this? You didn’t even tell me you knew her already!” Sherlock hissed. 

“Oh, calm down, will you? I got her number from your easily-crackable phone, told her I was John’s fiancee, that I knew she was alive, and that you wouldn’t talk much about your relationship, making me all the more curious to meet her. She was delighted and slightly intrigued by the situation that she obliged. To be fair, Sherlock, I like her already.” Mary proclaimed, raising her eyebrows at the detective as if to say well, what would you expect.

They arrived at Phulay Bay, the hotel resort having the delightful view of the beach, and was escorted by the bellhop to one of the suites. 

Sherlock could feel his fingers twitching for an unknown reason, his mind trying hard to keep the current thoughts whirling in his mind under control. 

When the door opened, he was greeted by her, The Woman, whose skin is slightly pink than pale from the sun, wearing a sheer black cover up and a bikini of the same colour underneath. It was lost for a moment that Irene had her eyes on Mary, for the detective was still in the midst of assessing whether there had been any changes in her measurements. 

“You’ve lost weight.” Sherlock mentioned, whether it was intentional or not, even he himself was unsure. He could see Mary’s amused look from his periphery, obviously holding back a smile. 

“Is that the proper way to introduce me to your friend?” Irene mused, smirking. 

“I take it you already got acquainted before we got here.” Sherlock simply replied. 

“And seeing that he really won’t introduce us, hi, I’m Mary Morstan, John’s fiancee.” Mary interjected, reaching a hand out to Irene, which The Woman took.

“Pleasure. I’m Irene Adler… Sherlock’s… friend.” Irene greeted with a smile, the last word sounding more like a teasing purr. “Would you like some tea?”

Sherlock can’t help but roll his eyes, which made both women laugh. 

“He is quite a handful, isn’t he?” Irene mused. 

“Yes, he is… And yes, to the tea, I mean.” Mary replied with a grin, helping herself to one of the chairs. “So tell me, Irene, why is it that my soon-to-be husband thinks your dead and you seem… well, very much alive?”

Mary then nodded towards Sherlock. “Apart from the obvious explanation.”

Irene eyed Sherlock upon hearing the new information, but the detective averted his eyes. She gave a quick call to room service for the tea before addressing Mary.

“Well, now. I wasn’t aware that the good Doctor Watson doesn’t know. But it’s not much of a surprise that he didn’t tell him. Your fiance can be a little jealous at times, if I recall.” Irene teased, sitting by the bed with her legs crossed. 

“Sherlock can be, too. They have some attachment issues, but they’re both too manly to admit it. But Sherlock likes me too much to even be jealous of me, right dear?” Mary added, to which Sherlock gave a groan. 

“We made a 12-hour trip just to make fun of me, how wonderful.” he said flatly, finding himself a seat. 

Mary giggled. “If my research serves me right, London to Karachi takes about 8 hours, plus the transfers. Now, there are no terrorists to hack with a mighty sword, but this is still very exciting.” 

Irene was trying very hard to wipe the smile of her face. Sherlock, on the other hand, glared at The Woman. 

“What else did you tell her?” Sherlock hissed. 

Irene rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry. I spared all the passionate details that happened AFTER we got rid of your bloodstained clothes.”

Mary’s eyes widened, her lips forming an amused ‘O’ as she heard what Irene has to say. “You know what? I really don’t mind you telling me.”

Sherlock turned to shot his glare at Mary, but she simply gave him a cheeky smile. To the detective’s relief, room service arrived with the tea, but the feeling was easily replaced  with annoyance when he saw the bellhop eyeing Irene. 

He stood up, cutting in between Irene and the bellhop as he handed him a bill, sending the service man away with a clipped “Thank you for your service.”

Mary had her chin propped on her fingers as she watched the scene, giving Irene a small smile. Sherlock must’ve caught himself and had been aware once more of Mary’s amused look that he hurried back to his seat moodily, his expression enough to convey “Not a word”.

Irene handed each of them a cup and took her own, claiming their previous positions. 

“So tell me, Mary, what is it about me that piqued your interest?” Irene inquired as she took as sip. 

Sherlock was simply watching, tapping his finger on the rim of the cup, knowing that wherever the conversation will go, he will not have control over it. The very reason why he found himself surprised when Mary gave him the liberty to explain the situation. 

“I think it’s best if it comes from Sherlock. That’ll be fair considering I dragged him here almost forcefully.” Mary quipped. 

“Almost forcefully?” Sherlock raised. 

“Yes, dear. Almost. Because truth be told, I honestly think you would’ve taken this trip even without me to ease your nerves before the wedding.” Mary said as-a-matter-of-factly, to which Sherlock had nothing to reply. He figured that fibbing against these two women only leads to embarrassing himself. 

“Well?” Irene cut in, raising her eyebrows at Sherlock. 

As soon as their eyes locked in, Sherlock could almost feel Mary disappearing. It was a typical case with The Woman that he wasn’t even surprised. 

“I forgot to put my phone on vibrate and she heard your specialised text alert. The series of events that followed are as you expect them to be.” Sherlock explained, almost biting his tongue as he realised what he just said. 

“Text alert? You don’t mean… Oh my goodness, Sherlock. You still haven’t changed it?” Irene was grinning now, her body unconsciously leaning towards his direction. 

“Can’t be bothered.” Sherlock replied trying to sound nonchalant about the matter. 

“Oh, please! You did bother a lot considering that you obviously went through a lot of phones from when you met.” Mary teased, making Irene’s smile grow wider. 

“Is this sentiment, Mr. Holmes?” Irene purred. 

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Both of you are having so much fun, aren’t you?”

Irene nodded. “It can’t be helped.”


“The usual, Sherlock?” Irene asked as if on habit, looking up the dessert menu as they were finishing their dinner.

“Yes.” Sherlock replied, watching her. 

He was aware that he was constantly watching Irene, and also that Mary was observing him in amusement. But after a couple of hours, Sherlock didn’t even bother to stop himself from habits he developed when around The Woman. He believes that Mary is smart enough to draw her own conclusions and that most likely, she will validate it with him as soon as they are alone. 

“You’ve been here before, too?” Mary asked, surprised. 

“I believe it was in another hotel.” Sherlock simply replied. 

“The other hotel where we’re both banned because Sherlock insulted the manager.” Irene added. 

“He was gawking at her like a vulture.” the detective replied in defense, his voice almost too quiet for everyone else to hear. “Not to mention the idiotic words that came out of his mouth.”

Mary placed her fork down and leaned in, much more interested. “Awww, that’s sweet.”

“Oh, it gets better.” Sherlock breathed. 

“How so?” Mary’s eyebrows raised. 

“I gave the guy a good punch.” Irene announced before continuing with a joke. “Sherlock was about to get hit, but I couldn’t get to have those beautiful cheekbones cut so I was the one who got physical.” 

“She dealt with a broken hand after.” Sherlock sounded nostalgic as he said the words, and as he judged by Mary’s expression, it was obvious that she read into his meaning. 

“I enjoyed the nursing I got, to be honest.” says Irene, eyeing Sherlock. 

Mary smiled. “Now, it makes me quite curious how Sherlock slips in and out of Baker Street. None of us honestly suspects it.”

“Dear Martha knows.” Irene replied casually. Sherlock’s eyebrows suddenly knit, surprised that he’s hearing about the information for the first time.

“Mrs. Hudson?!” Sherlock exclaimed. 

“Yes, dear. That lovely woman has been covering up for you. For someone who claims to be smart, you can be naive at times. How do you imagine your brother not being able to check in your flat when you’ve gone silent for a couple of days or so?” Irene confirmed incredulously. 

“When did you even meet Mrs. Hudson?” Mary asked. 

“A couple of years ago when she went up to complain about how much noise her ceiling was making the night before, and found me in Sherlock’s bedroom. We had tea before Sherlock and John came home from a case. She was lovely to talk to.” Irene confessed, smiling. 

Sherlock sighed. “Now I know why she insisted on keeping some of her old clothes under the bed.”

Mary looked confused. “And that means…?”

Irene laughed, sipping on some champagne before replying. “Let’s just say that when Martha found me, my dress was… not wearable anymore. Kind of her to lend me some of her old clothes.”

“Scandalous.” Mary commented with a smile, taking a sip of wine. 


“You are such a joy to talk to. It’s quite disappointing that you can’t be at the wedding.” Mary sighed. 

“We’ll still have time to catch up in the future… just without your husband knowing.” Irene replied with a smirk, which made Mary grin. 

Mary was eyeing Sherlock, the detective being silent the entire time they were walking back to their rooms. She was about to make a comment when there was a sudden shift in the way Sherlock was standing, clearing his throat as he was about to make his proposal. 

“We’re leaving early tomorrow morning. Best to have some rest.” he commented, not meeting any of the women’s eyes. 

“Ah, yes. I should leave you, then. Good night, Mary, Sherlock.” Irene acknowledged, her voice having a clipped edge to it. 

Mary was about to chide in when Sherlock added, “I’ll be right back, Mary. I’ll just walk Miss Adler to her room.”

The other woman smiled at Irene, then to Sherlock, giving a nod and an expression of pure expectation and amusement. “That’s a brilliant idea. Good night, Irene.” 

The Woman nodded in acknowledgement.

As Mary closed the door, Sherlock, whose eyes are not meeting Irene’s, muttered, “Shall we?”

The tension was felt at their every step, and Sherlock could feel his own chest thrumming as they drew close to Irene’s suite. He wanted to say something to her, but was unsure what, for as usual he was unaware how she felt about this sudden visit. 

He could feel his frustration growing as he imagined every tick of the clock drawing close to when he has to say goodbye to her once more and greet his life back in London, but what else is to expect? He was used to feeling this way every time he finds himself alone with The Woman. 

He was woken from his reverie at the sound of Irene’s keycard unlocking the door, The Woman looking at his somber expression. 

“Would you like to come in?” she asked, hand already reaching for the pins on her hair. 

He wanted to say no – to retain a sense of control as Mary was expecting him to come back – but just like all of their past escapades, he found himself succumbing to his impulses.

“Yes.” he muttered, voice almost just to himself. 

He watched as Irene walked over to her bed, continuously taking the pins off her hair and letting them fall loose on her shoulders. Taking the seat opposite her, he folded his fingers together, waiting if she has anything to say. 

“She’s lovely. I can see why you like her.” he heard her as she reached for a hairbrush and started combing her dark locks. 

Sherlock nodded. “She helped me reconcile with John. Plus, she’s incredibly brilliant.”

“I can tell.” Irene replied. “But was it really that urgent that you have to fly in here to meet me?”

Carefully choosing his next words, Sherlock said, “She was curious to meet you after a certain incident.” 

Irene’s brows knit in confusion. “The one about the text alert?” 

“No.” Sherlock’s voice was now quiet, his blue eyes studying Irene’s expression closely. “My passcode.”

“And why would that pique her interest this much?” Irene asked. 

Sherlock handed her his phone. “Give it a try.”

Irene looked at him as if he was making such a ridiculous request, but she never backed down in any of their past games, and counted this as one of those. She took the phone with her eyes on him, evident that her mind was calculating the possibilities. 

Sherlock simply gave her a nod, as if he read her mind that they were both thinking of that fateful night when she almost brought the nation to its knees. Irene’s eyes narrowed as she came to an epiphany, the words “this is your heart” echoing in her mind.

Being playful as usual, a smile grew on her red lips as she stroked the phone with her finger, punching the numbers slowly. The phone unlocked. 

“One. Zero. One. Three.” Irene announced with a smirk, her eyes boring deep into the detective’s. “Karachi.”

Silence passed between them, as if one was carefully thinking their next move. It was then that Sherlock figured that just like the past, it has become tradition to consider every night as their last night.

Drawing in closer, with his eyes never leaving hers as he moved, Sherlock breathed, “Do you think Mary will mind?”

And as expected, Irene met him halfway, her voice a sweet whisper when she replied, “Not at all.”


Once all checked in and settled, everything was in full circle as Sherlock sat on his designated seat in the plane. Noticing Mary’s lack of curiosity as to how he spent the night, he simply said, “Sorry if I kept you waiting last night. Did you wait long?”

To his surprise, Mary replied with a grin, “I went straight to bed after you left, to be honest.”

Sherlock looked at her curiously. “Why?”

Mary rolled her eyes playfully. “I’m not dumb, dear. I’m sure you already know the answer to your question.”

What if this actually happen? Part 9

Part1  Part2  Part3  Part4  Part5  Part6 Part7  Part8

Part 9~~ Let me explain before anyone ask ‘Shouldn’t DiaKananMari recognize them?’ this comic is in a Alternative Universe, where the Aqours girls are not School Idols and have no idea of who Muse is. It’s just a situation to make the story interesting. So instead of making them the same age, I decided to make the Muse’s members 5 years older than Aqours, thus explain why Nico said she’s 24.

I’m kinda slow lately~ Right after part 10, the second years interaction will happen~ pardon me my slow pace :D. 

If you have any brilliant ideas to contribute please send them in~ 

anonymous asked:

How do you think the assassins/templars would react if they find their SO sleeping in their coats?

OH LORDY ANON, THIS COULD GO IN MANY BAD DIRECTIONS.

Originally posted by competitiveeatingfortheelderly

I APOLOGIZE FOR THEY DELAY. I’M STILL HERE, SEND ME SHIT. DAMN.

I hope you don’t mind, dear anon, but I didn’t stay strictly to your prompt. Satisfaction is key, and if I failed to write something how you wanted it, please let me know!

Thanks to a dear page supporter, I’ll now be adding Mary Read/James Kidd to the list of assassins. Let me know what you think!


Altair: He’d been searching everywhere- he could not find his coat, which was necessary for his day. Unaware of where else to look, he decides to go to your quarters, hoping you’d know where the coat was. Without knocking, he barged into your home, but halted abruptly where he stood. There you were, peacefully sleeping, however not in your normal robes, but in his own coat. Still frozen in your doorway, he slowly and silently backs up and leaves. He would just steal one of Malik’s for the day.

Ezio: Your moment of silence had been disrupted by short, loud, and raspy chuckles. Slowly, groggily, and annoyed, you began to wake from your euphoric rest. Unsurprisingly, there was Ezio, lying by your side, laughing like an idiot. Not only were you tired and irritated, but now confused; that is until you figured out why he had been laughing. The night before, you’d been so lonely, knowing Ezio couldn’t be with you. To feel content and whole again, you reached for his coat… one he never wore, and the one he wanted you to keep. Unintentionally, you’d drifted asleep, the cloths contorted around your body. Ridged with realization, you hastily and unsuccessfully attempted to take the coat off; Ezio’s laughter subsided. He grabbed your hand, his eyes crinkled with delight. “You’re just too beautiful, mi amore.”

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4

from this fluffy ask

HI YES THANK YOU BOTH FOR THE ASK!!!

Okay guys, it’s been less than 6 months since my shenanigans started rolling onto your dashes and now 400 of you want to see my shit apparently. I don’t know what to say at this point, usually there’s a point where the flow of followers kinda just starts to stop coming, but you guys just keep coming. I can’t thank all my partners enough for coming and wanting to write with me even when I’m slow as hell and even those who just want to read my stuff, thanks for the support!

As usual I’m putting it under a cut because it gets LOOOOOOONG. If I forget one of you it’s not on purpose, i love you too. 

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anonymous asked:

I have really complicated feelings about Mary. I actually like that's she's not some perfect mom and has her own agenda. I like her as flawed. But I just don't like that Dean once again was the one who was made to apologise for how he was feeling. And I'm not happy with how she was basically willing to let Cas die over the Colt (though I guess you can make the argument it wouldn't have mattered much). Idk, maybe I just don't like the choices she's making right now? I get she's lost, but still...

Hey anon, I’m totally with you - I think it’s great so many people seem to have complex feelings about Mary. Because that means she’s not a one-dimensional character, but a flawed, realistic person, as you point out.

I also really hate that Dean is getting the short end of the lying stick again, with Mary, Sam and even Cas at the very end of the last episode. He sure didn’t have anything to apologise for, in my opinion, but it was a good way to not let the situation escalate. He compromised - instead of shutting Mary and Sam out & pushing them away because he doesn’t agree with the stance they’re taking re the BMoL, he chose the more difficult - but imho the more mature - path of “agreeing to disagree” and settle the dispute like that.This allows him to stay close to Mary and Sam, which, I’m sure, he hopes will mean that they start trusting him more. The more you push people away, the more they’ll lie, after all.

And the narrative is obviously going to prove Mary and Sam wrong - the BMoL are going to do something horrible (well, more horrible than they have already been doing and it’ll be revealed to Mary and Sam) - possibly related to Cas - that’ll show their true vile nature to Mary and Sam. So in that sense, I’m pretty sure Dean will be vindicated - in the sense that he’ll be proven right all along.

Of course, this is SPN so it’s likely Dean won’t be able to enjoy that little victory at all, because it’s gonna come at a great price.

Anyway, yes, Mary. It hurt me that she didn’t give up the Colt to (potentially) save both Cas’s and her sons’ lives, but then again as you say Ramiel probably would’ve wasted them all anyway, and she likely realized this. I definitely disagree with some of the choices she’s making, but I understand them. Thinking about where she came from (a family of hunters), the trauma of dying in such a horrible way, getting ripped from heaven and thrown into a world you barely recognize, being faced with adult sons that are physically close to your own age, having to deal with your beloved husband’s death…honestly she’s coping better than I would, that’s for sure.

And her motivation for working with the BMoL comes from a good, albeit misguided place. Remember what a long, long road of character growth Sam and Dean have behind them. The many mistakes they made, often multiple times, with heartbreaking and disastrous consequences. She simply hasn’t had that journey yet (well, she’s learned the lesson about demon deals…). And she deserves to have one, and certainly not be judged more harshly (as some people seem to do) for her mistakes than Sam & Dean (and Cas, too). I think she’s looking for a purpose. And while being a parent is a fine and worthy purpose in life, her children are adults. They don’t need her the same way young children would. They grew up without her, and she just hasn’t connected with them on a deeper level yet - these things take time after all.

I don’t know what her endgame is, but I sincerely hope she survives the end of this season, because I think she’s a fascinating character and also because SPN needs to stop killing off all their women. She could become a multi-season semi-regular! why not?

This got long so I’ll stop here - but thanks for sending this, I was planning on talking about Mary at some point on this blog, and your ask was the perfect opportunity for it.

Tormented & Loved (Dean Winchester High School AU x Reader) Part 20

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Wanna send me an ask? I know you do ;)

Part 20

Monday morning rounded the corner and I showed up at school, noticing Dean’s car wasn’t in the parking lot. I didn’t talk to him after I went home from their house last night. Mary thanked me for stopping by and gave me the vegetarian spaghetti recipe along with a ginormous hug. Dean surprisingly kept his distance and Sam hugged me before I left as well.

I walked through the halls to see Cassie watching me. I ignored her and opened my locker until she approached me.

“So… has Sam talked to you since the dance?” she asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“I tried talking to him after he dropped you off and I haven’t heard anything from him…”

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