No but really, if either John or Sherlock were female and every single other thing about the show (script, acting, set direction, lighting, soundtrack, etc etc) was exactly the fucking same, every media outlet in the universe would be having “JOHN AND SHERLOCK! WHY HAVEN’T THEY HOOKED UP YET?” and “WHEN JOHN AND SHERLOCK FINALLY SLEEP TOGETHER, WILL THE SHOW JUMP THE SHARK?!” headlines.
Finn wakes up long before Rey gets back. He’s still confined to bed for at least a week, though, so Poe keeps him company. They talk about missions past and future, ships, Han Solo, and how scary General Organa can be when she’s mad. But mostly Finn talks about Rey.
He talks about how badass she was on Jakku, taking out those those thugs who tried to steal BB-8. How she insisted she didn’t need him to hold her hand (that was really more to make him feel better anyway). How incredible she was behind the controls of the garbage ship that turned out to be the Millenium Falcon. How great their teamwork had been. What an amazing mechanic she is. How she escaped from captivity on Starkiller Base. How her face lights up when she smiles. How strong she is, how smart, how kind.
Poe listens to it all ruefully. Finn is obviously head over heels for this girl, absolutely lighting up with happiness when he talks about her. And he deserves it, Poe tells himself. He’s a good man. Poe can’t begrudge him that happiness just because he was hoping Finn might light up like that over him. So he puts on a brave smile and claps his buddy on the shoulder, carefully.
“Sounds like you’re in love,” he says gently. And then he has to watch the realization and the concern war across Finn’s face as he tries to figure out what to do with this revelation. Love isn’t exactly something Stormtroopers are trained to deal with. Poe can’t help but chuckle at the lost expression Finn turns to him.
“Just tell her, when she gets back. You can figure out where to go from there.”
When Rey gets back, Finn runs across the tarmac and greets her with a hug not unlike the one he’d given Poe when he saw him alive for the first time after their crash. Poe watches, feeling his heart break just a little bit, but manages a smile. After weeks of listening to Finn’s descriptions, he feels like he even might be a little bit in love with Rey, too, so how could he begrudge them what they so clearly deserve?
After debriefing and dinner, Finn drags Rey out onto a patio and insists that she tell him everything. Her megawatt smile knocks him breathless as she tells him about flying the Falcon with Chewie, the island on which they found Luke Skywalker — “ THE Luke Skywalker, Finn, can you believe it!” — the journey home, what Luke had told her about her family, the Force, the Jedi, all of it described in excited detail.
“ But what about you? How have you been? What did I miss whike I was gone?” So Finn tells her about the week he spent in recovery, and the following weeks of slowly getting back into routine and fighting shape, but mostly he talks about Poe.
He talks about how badass he was on Jakku, hiding the map in BB-8 and then standing up to Kylo Ren. How calm he was escaping from Starkiller Base. How incredible he was behind the controls of the TIE fighter, even though he’d never flown one before. How great their teamwork had been. How Poe gave him his name and his jacket. How he swooped in to save the day at Maz Kanata’s place. How he had been the first face Finn saw when he up after his injury and had kept him company in recovery for a whole week. How he’d helped Finn adjust to life at the rebel base and get back into fighting shape. How strong he is, how smart, how kind.
Rey listens carefully, smile growing wider and wider as Finn talks. His happiness is absolutely infectious. He notices her expression and stops talking.
"What’s so funny?”
"You’re in love with Poe.”
"You are head over heels for that pilot! I think I might even be a little bit in love after hearing you go on about him. How do you not see it?”
"That can’t be right,” Finn all but whines, completely confused now. “ Poe told me I was in love with you!” Rey’s eyebrows almost reach her hairline.
“Are you?” she asks quietly.
"Yes? I think so. I mean, it’s not exactly like I have a lot of experience with this stuff, but it made sense when Poe explained it to me. Now I’m confused though. Why are you laughing again?” Rey’s smile was as warm as the sun on Jakku.
"I don’t have a lot of experience with ‘this stuff’ either, but I’m pretty sure you’re allowed love more than one person at a time.” Finn’s confusion turned to cautious hope.
"You really think so? What will Poe think?” Rey reached out and took hold of his hand.
"Let’s go find out. We can figure out where to go from there.”
I am not sure if pain breeds poetry;
for I am overflowing with sorrow from an aching heart,
yet there is no poetry in my soul.
you told me that my words
took the breath from your kiss-ripened lips,
so I tried to stop breathing,
in hopes of finding my voice.
my highschool english teacher once told me that poetry pumped through my veins,
so I sliced open my skin
in hopes of finally discovering
the words I so desperately needed
you told me that my words were stunning,
that they must have come directly
from the halos of the angels
and out of the tip of my pen,
so I tried to get to heaven,
but the bottle of pills was too empty.
my best friend once told me
that my writing brought her to tears,
so I cried a whole damn ocean,
yet my words crashed before even reaching the shores.
I once told myself
there was nothing in this world I couldn’t be,
I once told myself
no one would ever take my poetry
but the day you decided I wasn’t enough,
the very same day my writings could no longer get you to stay,
was the day I lost them; something so personal,
something I keep locked up in a chest but you,
you came in with the stealth of a burglar,
cracked open my chest, and stole my poetry,
and I can’t even begin to fathom
how to explain
how much you decimated me.
I guess just taking my heart wasn’t enough for you
Molly stared at Sherlock, who was draped over the back of her sofa like a human afghan. She struggled to make sense of his out-of-nowhere question while at the same time struggling to come fully awake from her nap. Last she’d seen, Sherlock had been happily ensconced in her spare bedroom, tapping away on her laptop with Toby purring on his lap. And now this - “Where did this come from?” she asked groggily as she sat up.
“John and Mary are parents now,” he not-explained, his face now only inches from hers.
“So, what, you’re worried about what kind of a god-father you’re going to be, then?” Molly asked, just as confused as before.
Sherlock gave a huge, gusting sigh, rolled off the back of the sofa and nearly squashed her as he landed next to her. “No, I’m not worried about god-fatherly duties, Molly, I want to know if you think I’d make a good father or not.”
“Um, I don’t know, you seem to be good with kids from what I’ve seen.” She wasn’t lying, even though her mind was doing a bit of a happy dance at the way Sherlock was snuggled up next to her, seemingly oblivious of their proximity. She’d seen him with Archie at John’s wedding, and he’d learned how to feed, burp and change a baby well enough that Mary was happy to let him watch little Adelaide unsupervised.
“So you think that, in spite of my many flaws, I might actually make a passable parent?”
Why was he pressing her on this? Why her in particular? “I dunno, why don’t you ask John and Mary what they think?”
Sherlock rolled his eyes and gave her his patented ‘isn’t it obvious’ look. “Because I don’t want to have a child with either John or Mary, Molly. If I’m going to be a father, it seems logical to discuss it with said potential child’s potential mother.”
It took Molly’s muddled mind a moment to parse his meaning, but when she did she backed away so suddenly that she fell off the sofa with a thud.
“Molly! Are you all right?” Sherlock asked, leaning down with a concerned expression on his face. “What’s wrong?”
“Sherlock, are you asking me…are you saying…what exactly are you saying?” she demanded from her supine position on the floor, wedged between the sofa and the coffee table.
“I’m saying that I would someday possibly like to have a child or children with you,” he replied, as calmly as if he were describing the weather. “Isn’t that obvious?”
“Um, it is now,” Molly replied, finally allowing him to help her back up to the sofa. Where he immediately wrapped his lanky form around hers and snuggled his head on her chest. “But maybe next time you want to talk to me about things like this, it can be after we’ve had a first date? Or become engaged or even married?”
He waved a hand dismissively before draping it back over her shoulder. “Details. Moriarty’s been dealt with, I’ve been pardoned, I’ve discovered that parenthood isn’t nearly as boring as I thought it would be, and, what else?” He raised his head so that he could look her dead in the eyes. “Oh, yes, of course. I love you.”
It was hands down the most confusing conversation Molly had ever had, but the way Sherlock kissed her immediately after saying those three little words was impossible to misconstrue.
Judging by the way he pulled her even closer, her enthusiastic response was just as easy to understand.
OMG!! So, I reached 700 Followers, wich is amazing! Thank you all so so much! Where did you all come from? You are all so wonderful! Thank you so much again to everyone who follows me. You can´t even imagine how much that means to me!! You all deserve a massive hug! <3
An ominous little story. This one popped up in my head while listening to Soldier by Fleurie on repeat…
“We don’t have the Mortal Cup and we don’t know where it is, I swear,” Alec says. “But I’m willing to do anything, anything at all, to save my sister.”
Slowly, Inquisitor Herondale gets up from behind her desk; she’s never looked more ominous than in this moment. “Anything, Mr Lightwood?” she asks.
Alec takes a deep breath, and squaring his shoulders, he nods. “Anything.”
“You’re free to go,” Lydia says as she walks into the room where Isabelle and Magnus are kept waiting. “The Inquisitor let the charges drop.”
Both Izzy and Magnus whoop and hug excitedly. “Really?” Isabelle asks. “Did Jace and Clary come back with the Cup, then?”
“No,” Lydia answers quietly. “Your brother made a deal with the Inquisitor.”
Only then do they notice her somber expression, and Magnus’ breath catches in his throat when he sees that Lydia’s holding Alec’s bow and quiver in her hands.
Isabelle steps forward anxiously. “Alec? Where is he? What did he do?” she demands.
Lydia shakes her head. “I don’t know. He left with the Inquisitor and her guard. But he asked me to give you this, Magnus,” she adds and hands him the bow and the quiver. “And to tell you that you were right, about everything.”
Izzy and Magnus stare at the weapons in dismay.
Several hours later, Clary and Jace bring the Mortal Cup back, after all.
It’s several hours too late.
They ask and ask and ask - they never find out what happened to Alec.
-Aw how cute look at little niall
-The song is stARTING EVERYONE SHUT UP
-niall just tuRNED INTO LIAM WUT
-I repeat wUT
-liam should shave
-he really should
-omiGOD NOW LIAM IS HARRY WOT
-CHORUS TIME THIS IS MA BITCH
-why is he running
-HES FUCKING FLAWLESS WOT
-yes zayn sing
-LoUIS WHERE DID U COME FROM
-wait but harry sings after louis..
-OMGID THERES GONNA BE A LARRY MOMENT
-im nOT READY
-WHOOP THERE IT IS
-this is a long ass pier
-wOAH HARRYS EYES
-EYES EYES EYES EYES
-wat dA FAK THERES LIKE 17 OF THEM
-lol niall did a cartwheel
-lol louis jumped
-lol liam fell over
•music video finishes•
-wOW THAT WAS GREAT LETS WATCH IT AGAIN
12. What is the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever giffed
I mean, I’ve giffed myself.
As far as Markiplier…I don’t know. It’s really hard to say, because I have thousands of gifs. And none of them stands out as particularly cringey. I don’t usually gif the cringy stuff, I just kind of let it go. I mean, anything I did in my early months I cringe at because it was SO BAD, but otherwise idk not a whole lot.
Whoops where did that come from
44. Ever had a gif become a meme? Would you like that if you haven't
I wish you could come home. It’s been so lonely since you’ve left. Sometimes I think Mother and Father forget that I exist. They’re always gone, which is kind of a relief honestly, but being all alone here isn’t much fun. I talked to the house elves for a while, they were nice company. However, Mother caught me and smacked my knuckles with the ruler. I haven’t really been down to see them since. She said I was lucky Father wasn’t home. Sometimes I sit in your room and read through your books, the non boring ones that is. I’ve started a garden in the back yard, Mother actually enjoys it. She thinks it’s very lady like to have flowers, I just like them because they’re pretty. Anyways, I hope things are going well for you at Hogwarts. You’ll have to tell me all about your friends and classes. Write back soon,
Love your little sister,
Father is insisting that I start going to lessons every day instead of three a week. He thinks I don’t take them seriously enough, and that I’m far from a lady. He doesn’t understand that I know these things, I just chose not to apply them. Acting like a lady is perfectly boring and uneventful. I think I’m meant to be more than a quiet pretty face, he doesn’t seem to agree. So I’ve doubled my piano and violin lessons. I’m learning French and Portuguese which I don’t mind too much. The rest of it is awful. Mother insists that if I would just apply myself that things would go much smoother, but she doesn’t understand that I’m not her. I don’t want to ever be like either of them. I tried to tell her that I hate pretending to be something else, and she said that I have to pretend because otherwise I’m a disappointment. I think I’d rather be a disappointment. I hope things are still going well for you at Hogwarts, you’re lucky to be away. I miss you so much, and I can’t wait for you to come home.
Your little sister
I saw mother cry today. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her cry in my entire life. Honestly, I wasn’t sure she knew how to. Father stormed out of the manor and I could hear her sobbing from their room. I wasn’t really sure what to do, she’s usually so firm with me, but I knocked on the door and asked her if she was alright. She actually motioned for me to sit by her. When I sat on the bed by her she embraced me closely, and I honestly wasn’t sure how to react. In all my years I don’t ever remember her hugging me once, but she did and she stroked my hair. She said that I should never let anyone tell me that I’m not good enough, and that my spirit was much brighter than anyone deserved. I don’t think she’s every said anything nice to me before then. I think if I had to marry someone like Father, I’d be as cross as she is too. Maybe I’ve been too hard on her. By dinner she was back to her normal firm, critiquing self, but I don’t think I’ll forget how sad she was. Things are so strange without you here, everything seems backwards. Maybe when you’re home things will go back to normal. I hope you’re well brother.
I’m so sorry Evan. I never knew how horrible Father could be. I knew he was awful, but I didn’t realize how cruel, vile, and evil he could be. I can’t believe you’ve dealt with him for so many years. I’m so sorry that I ever added to that pain. Please forgive me. I think I’m going to run away. I don’t think I can handle living in this house any longer Evan, I can’t stand him. He was talking so horrible at dinner, and I couldn’t just sit and listen any longer, it was making my blood boil. I shouldn’t have said anything, I know I shouldn’t have, but I did, and he was so angry. I’ve never seen him so angry. Mother said nothing, she didn’t even move when he dragged me to the study. I thought she was on my side, I thought she’d help me. She just sat there, staring down at her plate, blank faced. I don’t think the Murlap Essence is going to heal the scars. I tried to do it the same way I healed yours, but I couldn’t reach them properly so it’s a spotty job. I’m going to have horrid scars on my back because of him. I hate him Evan, I hate him so much. I’ve never felt hatred like this before but I hope I never see him again. I’m not staying here anymore, and I don’t think you should either. It’s not safe, we’re better off somewhere, anywhere else. Please, come home. I need you here.
Please Evan I’m begging you,
The one letter letter she sent.
Hogwarts sounds absolutely lovely! I can’t wait until I can come join you. You’ll have to show me all the cool places you’ve found. All the houses sound incredibly, I think Hufflepuff would be a good house for me, though our parents may not agree. Classes sound exciting, and I’m glad you’re making friends. Everything here has been pretty normal. Father wants to further my lessons, which isn’t too terrible. I’ll be out of the manor more. Other than that I’ve mostly been reading, though I’ve started a garden in the backyard. I think it looks nice, Mother does too. Anyways, I can’t wait for your next letter, you’ll have to tell me all about your adventures! I hope to hear from you soon.