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fandom-freakanoid replied to your post:Inbox me your cute baby Watson headcanons. I...
I need to read this Molly death
shhhhhhhhhhhh, you're not supposed to read the tags!
But if you really want to read one of the times I killed Molly, there's this one [x] and the other one is actually a prompt fill that I haven't quite finished because I keep... er... slipping... and killing Molly. Which isn't very nice considering that the prompt is for cuddles.
fandom-freakanoid replied to your post: Read More →Read More Now!
I’m getting my permit tomorrow :D
Like a proper you can actually drive permit like you passed your test??? If so then YAY WELL DONE!!
Memory (Installment Two)
A light rain falls outside and you place a hand on the window pane as cool arms slip under your arms and reach around your front, crossing at your middle. Cool kisses cover your shoulders and neck and you smile. It’s that man again. That thin, beautiful man. You don’t see his face, but you know it’s him. You rest your head against his as his hands rub your stomach. You look down at his hands and notice your stomach is plump and full of life. You feel him smile against your neck. He tells you that you’re beautiful. That you glow like the goddess you are. He turns you around slowly so you’re face to face with him, his eyes shine with so much love, you feel it deep down in your soul. He kneels, placing small kisses on your stomach. You smile and smooth his short raven locks. His eyes meet yours and he smiles.
“He’ll be a strong warrior.” He says.
“And if the babe is a girl?” You ask, smiling.
He stands and kisses your cheek. “Then she will be as beautiful as her mother.” He whispers in your ear. You smile and wrap your arms around his neck.
You wake with a start and pick your head up off of your textbook looking around to see what woke you. You hear yelling outside your bedroom door. You recognize Alastair’s and your boyfriend’s voices and stand up taking quick strides across the room and swing the door open.
“If you two don’t mind i am trying to study!” You say looking first at Alastair and then laying your eyes on your boyfriend, Andrew.
“I-i wass just try-ing to come and ss-e you” he slurs. It’s obvious he’s been drinking again. It wasn’t his speech that gave him, but his smell. You noticed the smell of strong alcohol and you knew it wasn’t Alastair because you’ve never seen him drink before.
“You’re drunk.” You state, looking Drew from head to toe. You notice his bruised knuckles and cut lip “And you’ve been in a fight, quite a night you’ve had and it isn’t even-” You grab Alastair’s wrist and glance at the watch strapped to it. “It’s not even fucking ten o’clock yet” you raise your voice, letting go of Alastair’s arm. You’re glaring so hard at Andrew, you feel as if your eyes will drill a hole right through his.
“I-im sssoryy babbby” he slurs trying to step closer, but trips over his feet. Alastair catches him and looks down at you “You know he can’t leave here like this” he says.
You roll your eyes and step aside, motioning with your arm for Alastair to carry the drunken mess that is your boyfriend into your room. He drags him in by his torso and lays him down on top of your lilac comforter. Once Alastair rids himself of your boyfriend he stands straight, towering over you brushing his hands off. He stares down at you and motions for you to wipe something off of your cheek. You stare at him and raise your hand to your cheek feeling something wet making strands of hair stick to your skin. You pull your hand away and look at it disgusted. Brushing the rest of the drool off of your cheek you look back up at your brother.
“It’s a good thing he is drunk, if he had noticed that I wouldn’t have ever heard the end of it, thanks” You say and Alastair responds with a kind smile and nods his head once.
“My pleasure” He says, turning toward your door to walk away, grabbing the side of the door to pull it shut. He stops in his tracks and turns his head to look at you.
“I know you can pretty much take care of yourself, but if he gives you any trouble remember that I will never be too far away to help you.” He finishes and then shuts the door behind him not waiting for a response.
You turn around studying the man on your bed. He doesn’t look much like the man from your dreams, so you know these dreams aren’t fantasies. You undress and crawl into bed with him, closing your eyes. He wakes a little and puts his hand on your hip. His touch isn’t loving, but lustful and you push his wandering hand away from you.
“Not tonight, Drew” you say firmly and you feel the bed shift as he turns his back to you.
“You’re a worthless bitch” he whispers at you. His words used to pierce your heart, but over time calluses have formed and now you just take the insults he throws your way when he is drunk, hoping he doesn’t mean them when he repeats them in the morning.
{Yay! Hope you guys like it! Feed back is welcomed!!!!!
You can contact Jordi jordimeryle
And Dayna fandom-freakanoid }
xoxo
Memory (Installment One)
You step into a room brightly lit from an unknown source. This room is a bright white with some sort of glowing gold radiating from the corners. Fine furniture is spread throughout the small room and a man, tall and thin and dressed in dark greens and browns, stands in the far corner, his eyes averted from your face. You step closer cautiously and his gaze falls on you. He looks distressed, like he’s in some sort of pain. Internal, you think, because he seems to be in good health. As you step closer, you say his name, but no sound is heard. But you say his name again, you can feel it on your lips.
He smiles at you and takes a step closer. You’re close to him now, your feet moving you automatically to him, a familiarity about him. Your fingers touch his face and his eyes closed. It’s as if you touch physically hurts him. You quickly withdraw your hand, your eyes searching his face. His eyes open and he says your name, one of his thin pale hands slipping past your hip and placing itself on the small of your back, pulling you closer to him.
He tells you that he never meant to hurt you and his emerald eyes search your face. He watches your face change in confusion. You don’t know what he means, but you say nothing.
He continues. He says that he never meant to strike you and brushes the faint scar on your cheekbone.
Your hand comes up to your cheek and you can feel the small scar. How long has that been there? You’re not sure.
He says that he’ll make it all go away, the pain he’s caused you. The hurt. He promises.
You shake your head, not really sure what he’s implying.
He moves your fiery hair from your face and smiles at you. You push your cheek into his hand and close your eyes. He makes a small strangled noise, like your action pains you. Your eyes open and you see that his eyebrows have knit together and his eyes are beginning to gloss. He keeps your gaze as his hand moves to the back of your head. His face relaxes as you feel your eyelids getting heavy. You cry out as a white hot pain surges from his hand through your head. You look at him, his eyes reflecting your own pain and try to mouth the word “why?”, but before you can try to speak he crushes his lips against yours and the noise that comes from him is one of painful sorrow. Your eyes close as you lose consciousness and you feel his arms leave you as you’re passed into iron-clad arms.
“Take care of her. Take care of my love.” He says.
You sit upright in your bed, eyes wide open and mind reeling. Too real. That dream was too real. You close your eyes and flop your head back down on your pillow as your door opens and your older brother, Alastair comes stumbling in, still in his pajamas.
“What’s wrong?” He seems on edge.
“Nothing.” you say, eyes still closed.
“I heard you scream.” He says.
Your eyes open and you look at him.
“I screamed?” You ask, he nods and cocks his head to the side.
“Hm” you shrug your shoulders. “Thanks for the input” you turn your head on your pillow to face the large figure standing in your doorway.
“I’m just looking out for you” he answers and crosses his arms against his chest.
“I know.” you say and close your eyes again.
He leaves after a few moments, closing your door behind him.
Your eyes open and you prop yourself on your elbows, head back as you look at the ceiling trying to piece back together the dream. It was already fleeting from your mind, as dreams do. But what was left was this man’s face. Thin and pale with a strong jawline. Emerald eyes and dark hair that curled at the ends. You close your eyes and try to concentrate on the tiny details, but the more you think about them, the more they change. You sigh and push yourself up out of bed, swinging your legs around, your feet hovering over the floor.
Standing, you run a hand through your wild and ratted hair.
You glance toward the clock sitting on your desk. 5:52am. Today was your day off from work and you had planned on being lazy. You were going to sleep in until the sun was hitting your face, but it was still dark outside. You frown and silently curse yourself for not telling your brother about the dream. You had read online that talking about dreams made them go away. You had a fear that it would go away, aside from the pain and the confusion it caused, you didn’t want the dream to completely go away, you wanted it to stay because of the man.
You move to your dresser and pull out a pair of pants and an oversized sweatshirt. You’re already up, might as well grab something to eat, get some homework done, something. There’s no way you’ll be able to go back to sleep.
Walking down the hall, you hear Alastair in the kitchen. He never sleeps. Figures he’s up and already making breakfast, the television on. You sit down at the small table and watch him work.
“Hungry?” He asks, turning towards you.
You shrug although you could always eat. “Not really.”
He grunts and turns back to the stove, flipping the eggs in the small skillet.
You pick up the magazine laying on the table next to your arm. It’s from two months ago and you have already read it three times. Alastair demands on keeping it, something about commentary of the ‘alien invasion’ that happened in London.
“You have books you can read” Alastair says carrying his plate to the table.
You look up from the magazine and take in the amount of food he has on his plate. He is a big guy, but four eggs and a stack of pancakes with a side of four fruits seemed like too much even for him.
“What do you have, like, four stomachs?” you ask him, sarcasm dripping from every word.
“Cow.” You say, smiling and taking a piece of fruit from his plate.
He shovels in a forkful and nods, mooing with a mouthful accidently dropping food out of his mouth.
“Eww!” You exclaim “I don’t want to see it!” Alastair smiles brightly and shovels another forkful into his mouth. You look at him, disgusted, and stand up dropping the magazine back onto the table. As you head back to your bedroom for your school books, Alastair’s laughing follows you as you shut your door. You sit down at your desk open your history book. In your class, you’ve been learning about..oh god, you can’t even remember. You flip to the beginning of the chapter and start to read.
Throughout the day, Alastair checks on you, bringing you lunch at one point which you nibble at, trying to find a distraction from the boring text in front of you. Your eyes start to blur, making all the text run together, and you feel yourself falling asleep.
{This is going to be a weekly series. Hopefully it comes out every Sunday, but as Dayna and I are really busy, it may come out on a Saturday or a Monday. But we're shooting for Sunday!
Let us know what you think! ~JordiMeryle}
That's fan fiction material right there haha!
OH GOD IF ANYONE WANTS TO WRITE FANFICTION ABOUT THIS PLEASE DO IT I WOULD ACTUALLY LOVE YOU FOREVER
WRITE FANFICTION AND SEND IT TO ME
PLEASE
I THINK I WOULD DIE
That's not something you would imagine happening. Like, he flirted with you!
HE DID FLIRT WITH ME I’M GLAD YOU AGREE
Before that day I would never have even thought I would get to speak to him properly, let alone have an extended conversation and a bit of a flirt ;)
I want to meet him again so I can remind him of it haha!
You are one extremely lucky lady and I am forever jealous
It might sound stupid, but I’m almost jealous of myself?
I want to go back and experience it again because I know nothing will ever compare to the feeling of Benedict Cumberbatch flirting with me.
I'm making a second blog
this one will have nothing but the fan fics that i write. That way when someone asks for links to my writing i can just link them to one blog instead of going through my blog just to find them.
