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Sherlock, John, and BirdsSherlock Holmes was having one of those days. The world was bright and cheerful outside, the birds were chirping, John had just come back from doing the shopping for the week and was putting away the groceries next to the eyeballs, and Sherlock couldn't concentrate because...
"There's too much damn noise!" He rubbed his head furiously and put his head in his hands rubbing at his temples. He had one massive headache.
"Oh Sherlock, would you just wait a minute, I'm almost done. It's not like I want to be doing this you know."
"It's those stupid birds out the window," He gets up, and makes a face "with their flitting about chirping and making love."
"You should have a bb gun," John said thoughtlessly, he shut the door to the fridge smiling. Then realized what he said
"Sherlock, no I didn't mean it," He came around the corner. Sherlock stood frozen by the window thinking, bb gun, bb gun, no that wouldn't work, too many pellets in the windows, not
Sherlock x John HP Cross over PrologueJohn Watson grew up like all the other wizard families; playing quidditch, envying over the latest broom model, and waiting for the letter from Hogwarts.
But, John noticed that when all the other boys went out to play, they always excluded one boy. One dark, curly haired boy with grey / blue eyes. John, was curious about this boy, but he was too shy to go up to him.
Then, one day, when John was happily playing with the other boys, he noticed some of them go off, but didn't really pay attention to it. Until he noticed them forming a circle around something.
Curious, yet wary, he silently walked up to them and stood on his tippy-toes to try and see what was happening as the crowd got thicker.
The boy was in the middle, looking slightly panicked, a sneer on his face.
Several of the other little boys, shoved the boy, taunting him, and John felt anger roll over him. He was slightly confused; John didn't feel anger all that often, except when his sister was involved.
"Hey!" John yelled angri
BBC SH - The Case of the Dancing Men IIIPrisons always felt boding to Sherlock. Like enormous, sullen beasts waiting to throw off their shackles and bite.
His shoes clicked neatly on the floor as he was led to the visitors' room by a guard with a distinctly amphibious face.
Echoes. His mind was full of echoes. Echoes of his steps in the empty corridor. Echoes of John's angry words prior to their parting. Echoes of Cole and Tydfil's singing.
Irritating. Echoes are merely repetitions of an already known quantity. What he needed was new data, not these distracting thoughts lingering and fogging his mind.
Sherlock forced his fingers to stop twitching into the position of violin notes and focussed instead on his surroundings.
Guards tense, inmates defiant but not pushing their luck too far. Know that repercussions will be harsher than usual. Inspection coming up. Guard leading me believes me to be an inspector sent as a preliminary check. Sweat on the back of his neck. Fingers twitching. Shivering but it's far from cold
Sherlock's Valentine's Day “It’s not a date.” John said quickly.
“I know it’s not.” Sherlock replied just as fast.
“I just don’t want to waste my money.” John rationalized.
“Of course.” Sherlock’s tone was unconvinced, though John assumed he was just teasing him again.
It was Valentine’s day and John had bought tickets to a nice dinner theatre weeks ago, but this morning Sarah had phoned him to say she felt like death warmed over and that he’d better not come round unless he wanted to catch a really nasty flu. He told her he didn’t mind, and went over with flowers anyway, but she’d been asleep when he arrived and didn’t come to the door. When he phoned from the steps and woke her up she’d whispered miserably that she really couldn’t even make it to the door, and that she
TangoJohn Watson wasn't exactly sure how it had happened. One moment he was living a normal (as normal as you could get around Sherlock Holmes, that is) quite life in a very dingy, wet, safe London. Despite the overwhelming variety of crimes to be solved, you could always depend on things like a light afternoon drizzle to wash away the morning's stress. Here it was different. It was like Afghanistan, only greener, a little bit cooler, and with much better food.
The dish he was currently shoveling into his mouth, a huge helping of rice, beans and beef, had been laid before him with maternal love by the proprietress of the cantina they were lounging in. John, who hadn't eaten since breakfast the day before, could have kissed the little white-haired señora. That is, he could have, had he not been extremely interested in the exchange taking place over two shots of tequila on the other side of the round, soft-wood table.
"Look, all I'm saying is that next time we do this, I should get to dr
Draco's Hero - Final ChapterFinal Chapter - The Countdown
Draco felt uneasy being around all these people. There was a massive party, Christmas had just ended and they were all gathered here to watch the New Years fireworks from the best place to do so. He had been forced into it by Harry, who seemed to want Draco to go absolutely everywhere with him as if he were afraid to lose eachother again. Draco didn't mind at all, he had actually began to enjoy being around Harry. They had finally been able to set aside their differences all within the month of December. Not only had their personal relationship changed (whatever it was, neither of them knew exactly), but his relationship changed with Harrys friends as well. The muggle-born, for instance, had become Draco's somewhat of a best friend. Harry had found it amusing, how after one bitter argument they had over Harry at the beginning of this month turned into a fascinating divulgence on how they both fancied books to no end. It switched over, and Draco foun
How First Love GoesThe first day of the ordered-day, Tsuna almost forgot the dessert in his fridge if not for Reborn who knocked his head the moment he sprinted out of his gate and made him took a u-turn to take it, though in the end, he was still be bitten to death since he arrived four minutes late. When the class ended, Kusakabe came to return the cups.
"Kyo-san said he expected another tomorrow, early", was the short message delivered with it. Tsuna gulped and nodded nervously.
The next day, Tsuna didn't forget and managed not to arrive late.
On Saturday, when Tsuna was lazying around in his bedroom since there was no school, a tonfa suddenly flew through his bedroom's window and promptly smacked his forehead. The brunette was surprised when Hibari appeared, demanding his dessert.
Of course, everyday's a school-day for Hibari Kyoya.
Tsuna came to the school on Sunday to deliver the dessert and to avoid getting tonfa'd. The decimo ended up spending his afternoon awkwardly in the reception roo
HAPPY NEW YEAR
Sherlock was already dressed and sitting in his armchair, reading, when John came downstairs for breakfast.
"How long have you been awake then?" John called from the kitchen, not even glancing in the detective's direction. Sherlock peered at the robed man over the top of his book and turned the page nonchalantly.
Sherlock's ears picked up the tell-tale chink of the kettle turning on before John started rummaging through the fridge for something even remotely edible.
"Sherlock, what happened to the fruit I bought yesterday?"
"I let Mrs Hudson use them for a pie she was making,"
John shut the refrigerator door with a snap and squeezed his eyes shut in silent frustration.
"So much for breakfast."
"There's a tub of cream cheese on the top shelf of the fridge,"
"Yeah, and would you consume an entire tub of cream cheese plain for breakfast?"
John just shook his head and turned the kettle off, tipping scalding hot liquid into his mug as he heard Sherlock turn
Parenting for Sex AddictsThe half-day.
We are not those folks that need an occasion to try. And that’s what they call it, too. Trying. As if the very idea of it is taxing. It’s not taxing and we are not those people.
No. We do not go by some magical calendar. Schedules aren’t really our thing in general. That’d be too organized. Too stuffy. Too… I don’t know… too planned. And we’re not the type of people whom plan.
If we could—plan—our lives would be much different. I think. It’s hard to say because this is how we’ve always been.
Our very togetherness is a result of impulse. I’m almost certain that the amount of time it took us to decide to move in together was significantly shorter than the amount of time it took us to remember each other’s names. We might have had our first conversation moments after that first… what I mean to say is we didn’t plan. Because planning would have been much t
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