for @storyuntrue, with love. ♡

irene is looking a little too innocent for someone who had just ripped sherlock's purple shirt of torture open, buttons flying everywhere, and then proceeded to pose on his bed, half naked, herself. ❝ there. that's so much better, isn't it? ❞ she's smirking at him, biting the pad of her thumb. ❝ i think you do that on purpose, you know. buy shirts two sizes too small, so someone finally rips it off of you. what a naughty, naughty boy you are, sherlock holmes.❞

@storyuntrue: i was hoping you'd say that. / rick to azrael

head tilted as her eyes locked onto his own . he never ceases to amaze her . she could mention the most bizarre sort of tasks and such , and he was almost always onboard with them . truly , it was no wonder why the archangel had grown so fond of him in all their time they spent together . " oh ? " lips formed into a soft smile before she stepped closer . " well , if that's the case then , maybe i can stay here a bit longer . not like i'm needed at this moment . "

jim && sherlock

he's smartly dressed but not how he knows holmes the younger expects him to look . professor james moriarty didn't wear westwood suits from saville row , he wore tweed with elbow patches when he had to be formal or cardigans when he didn't . he worked out of an office that was characterised by out of place loose papers in chaotically organised in haphazard stacks with theories and theorems scrawled on whiteboards around the edges of the room .

oh he expected him to figure it out eventually . sooner .   but this wasn't an act , he had been at oxford since he started his undergraduate , his postgraduate , his professorship , and had stayed on with academic tenure .    it wasn't his fault that no one expected him to be the 'm' behind the curtain .

mycroft figured it out first ,   in the few days after they had met face to face   ( and truthfully , he had expected that )    but sherlock ?   well it was almost embarrassing how long it took him to find him here .

officially professor james moriarty was still on a sabbatical , bereavement leave , but he came in periodically . . . he had his reasons . a shadow stands in his doorway and he knows who it belongs to . no doubt @storyuntrue thinks they are so smart to have found him .

❝   i’m a fan of your work,  actually.  ❞

" well isn't that sweet . "    came the bored and mocking drawl from the napoleon of crime maths professor . with a barely there but very intentional sigh he finally looked up from the phone in his hands , smoothly sliding it back into his jacket pocket .    " i'm not a fan of yours . "

prompt .

& / from tony !

Send me "&" for my muses reaction to yours tracing one of their scars. || accepting

When that sudden touch to his finger happens, oh so very gentle but curious, Stephen jerks free from the grasp that book has had on him for a couple of hours by now; He blinks as he lifts his head, meeting a set of dark eyes that look equally as surprised about the sorcerer's jolt - seconds pass between them, seconds that are filled with silence and the other man pulling his hand back as if having been caught doing something naughty.

Strange immediately feels bad about it and he clears his throat, then puts the book down onto his lap before offering a gentle, hopefully assuring smile. "Sorry, I was... ---I forgot about reality for a second here. Books do that sometimes, no?"

He chuckles, a little awkwardly, before humming out a low sound; Clear eyes fall to his own hand, where Tony had touched him before... and he uncurls it from the book's back, then, tentatively so, holds his digits toward the other, watching them tremble the faintest bit as they hover in between them. The scars painted across the skin are very much visible, will forever remain there, so will the metal pins inside his bones...

"----You can touch them again... ---if you want to." A somewhat awkward mumble, but it's of genuine nature, with Strange's gaze trailing back up to those dark brown eyes before flicking away, shy almost, down to his fingers. "A touch does not hurt. The scars are just a little more... sensitive. Sometimes, that is. Other times they almost feel numb - it, uh, depends."

"we all lose track of what’s important sometimes." / matthew to sybil

“It’s–” Sybil hesitated, unsure how to phrase it, but she still wore a smile full of kindness in response to her good brother’s comment. She was glad that he was home and they were able to talk so openly. Matthew came from a different world than the small and conformist circle of the English aristocracy, whereas she’d been born at its very bosom, and yet both of them had their own struggles within this overly privileged dome. It eased her mind to think that he might understand her point. “It’s more than that, I suppose…” she continued reticently, searching for the right words. The war was changing so much, so fast. Rigid rules became looser. Old-fashioned traditions lost their meaning and even the most rigorous conventionalists began to bend. Sybil hoped it would be for the best, but God, the cost was high. When the words came to her, she sighed before speaking. “It’s like I couldn’t tell what was important until all of this happened.” It seemed pointless to look back to the girl she had been then: Sybil was still just as dreamy, just as opinionated and idealistic, but until recently she had been yet another aristocrat, the youngest of three sisters with no inheritance, no proper education, no prospect for a profession. Now she was a nurse. Her work saved lives, and when it didn't she at least could ease the pain of dying soldiers. It was a hard job. Day and night she felt drained both physically and emotionally from it, but it’d given her a sense of purpose. “I can see why you wanted to refuse Downton once”, she added, though inwardly wondering if she should say such a thing. “This world is perishing. Isn’t it?” [ @storyuntrue ]

joined a tumblr live cause curiosity and instantly got called out??????? i am asdfghjk

What's your underlying motif?

the coffee.

whether it’s your sharp tongue, your tendency to blow hot or cold, or the familiarity of you, you’re the coffee. don’t immediately assume that your undercurrent means you’re bitter, a common misconception, because people who like coffee always make it work for them. coffee doesn’t always have to be dark, it can be a warmth that’s comforting and the first start to a day. you aren’t nearly as tough as you make out to be, but we’ll keep your secret. you’re a constant, won’t ever go out of style. not everyone’s taste, but what is these days? an unknown quote reads “I like drinking coffee alone and reading alone... I realize that even though I like being alone, I don’t fancy being lonely” remember you don’t always need to face things yourself, there’s a reason people suggest “coffee?” when they want to spend time together.

tagged by: @ssolessurvivor ♥ tagging: @ensnchekov @onlybonesleft @sxbaist @storyuntrue (Tony) @danversiism @deficd (any muse) @frstcmdr @fiercengineer and you. ♥

getting frisky with @storyuntrue. ♡

❝ the only way for us to move forward in our relationship is for us to have sex. i am extremely attracted to you, as much as i hate to admit it. i won't be gentle, and i don't want you to be, either. ❞

tom && matthew

christ above he hates these pointless dinners . forced into clothes that cost more than his ma's food costs for a month , forced to listen to outrageously out of touch conversations and defend his very existance with every breath . it baffles him . aren't they meant to be educated ?

❝  if you’d like to discuss it in private,  we can step outside?  ❞

thank god for matthew .   he fits in better here , there is no denying it . he has the right accent , the right religion , the right political beliefs , but it didn't stop the esteemed and excruciatingly upper class guests from whispering 'middle class' like it was a bad word . finishing the last of his drink , nodding with a hum under his breath he gestured for @storyuntrue to go first .

maybe lady mary was onto something about matthew being perseus in some other life . the hit of cold air in the grounds of the abbey was refreshing and he let out a low chuckle. " was i that bloody obvious ? "

prompt .

"why did you bring me here?" / molly to sherlock !

meme status: accepting. meme source: uknown.

the urge to lie and manipulate is there, like a bad itch, underneath his skin. but he had an oath he had to uphold. to john, to molly, to himself. she didn't deserve to have him lie to her again. so he doesn't. sherlock looks at her with the most honest look he can make himself give her, licking his dry lips as he takes a step forward. his hands are shaking, but that isn't anything new these days. the withdrawals are a bitch, and this isn't anything molly isn't used to seeing with him.

❝ i haven't been very kind to you, have i? it's always been a mystery to me, why you've remained so... kind, even though i was never worthy of it. you truly are an incredible human specimen, molly hooper. ❞ she knows, these words aren't easy for him to say. she knows, sherlock isn't an honesty or feelings kind of person. he clears his throat, taking in a deep, shaky breath as he sits down on the edge of the dirty bed. this isn't exactly the most... desirable of environments. he can't blame molly for feeling a little nervous.

❝ the only way for me to be certain that this is what killed all those people is if i try it on myself. now, i know that my heart is going to give out when i do. but i need time. and i need someone i trust to bring me back when my time runs out. ❞ he reached to grab one of her hands, placing a syringe with adrenaline inside of it into her open palm. he closed her fingers around it and gently squeezed her hand.

❝ molly, i have very few people left in my life who would care if i lived or died. if i don't come back, i want it to be you. i know it isn't fair, i know it's almost cruel, but lives are depending on it. and if i die, there is no one else that i trust or would want to be with in this moment than you. ❞ yes, not even john, because john would never let him try something this reckless. he let go of molly's hand and gave her an imploring look. there's vulnerability under all that ice that surrounds his blue eyes. it isn't fair, what he's asking of her...

❝ can i ask this one last favour of you, molly? ❞

"We've talked about this. Personal space?" / eve to villanelle !

meme status: accepting. meme source: uknown.

villanelle's eyes were on eve's lips. there were a few inches between them. not enough for their lips to touch, but enough for her to taste the coffee on eve's breath as she tried not to let it show how much their proximity affected her. the corners of her lips tugged up into a smirk. she reached up to brush eve's beautiful dark curls behind her shoulders, tucking one side behind her ear. ❝ personal space is for boring, uninteresting people. i find you to be very not-boring, and very interesting, eve. you should take it as a compliment. ❞

but eve couldn't just let her have this one thing. eve couldn't let her have anything. when was she finally going to give in and admit that she felt the same strong feelings that villanelle did? she wanted this woman so desperately. she felt as if she hadn't been alive until the day that she met eve polastri. this seemingly ordinary woman had completely turned her world upside down, so unexpectantly. ❝ come on. admit it. you like it when i'm this close, ❞ pushing her limits, because she wanted to see how far she could take it with eve, she stepped into her space even further, one hand grabbing hold of her hip, whilst the other cupped her cheek. it's undoubtly a romantic gesture, and it looks as if she's working herself up to kiss eve. again.

"Same song, different verse. Things are never gonna change with you. Ever." / dean to abaddon !

meme status: accepting. meme source: uknown.

❝ well, duh. i'm a demon, lover. what exactly were you expecting? ❞ there was only one thing that abaddon wanted: chaos. she was self-serving now that she didn't have lucifer or cain giving her orders. the one thing she wanted above everything else was to restore hell to its former glory, but in between that, there was this little winchester problem that she didn't seem to be able to rid herself of. unlike his granddady, dean winchester was... interesting. he really did give her nasty ideas. the sort that she doubts the righteous little hunter wanted a demon like her to be having. but there was no point in resisting. ultimately, she'd have what she wanted. she always did.

❝ i suppose i should feel all giggly that you want me to change so badly. are you dreaming of a white picket fence with little ol' me, dean? how romantic... ❞ with a laugh, she grabbed hold of his short hair, tugging it forcefully back, sharp, red-painted nails digging into his chin as she slid her hand to grab his chin, forcing him to look right into her eyes. ❝ you know, the definition of madness is trying the same thing over and over again, expecting different results, right? i promise you, things would be far more pleasant for you if you just... gave up, baby boy. you see, i like you. you give a girl... all kinds of ideas. and as long as you give it up, baby, i would make you my favourite pet. wouldn't that be so nice? look at you. i can smell your arousal, just hearing about it. admit it, dean. you want it so bad. you're tired of being the leader. you want a sargent, barking orders at you, telling what to do, what to feel. just like how daddy would. ❞

"i don't know what you're feeling. i won't even pretend." / tony to stephen !

meme status: accepting. meme source: uknown.

stephen had to hold back the urge to scoff. it was incredibly hard. tony stark was a man that seemed to press on every last restraint that he had. maybe it was because of the similarities between the both of them. it was like staring into an aged mirror, and the good doctor wasn't all too fond of that. self reflection, as important as it had been as part of his journey into the sorcerer that he was today, was not one of his favourite things. ❝ for a man of genius intellect, you don't know a great deal of things, do you, stark? ❞ it's meant as a fact, rather than a jab, but his tone leaves much room for improvement. ❝ what does it matter what i'm feeling? you're focusing on the wrong thing. as usual. ❞ how was he meant to work with this megalomaniac? stephen would rather fight demons from another dimension, but here he was... —stuck with earth's biggest douchebag.

"do be a dear & tell me all about it." / sherlock to irene !

meme status: accepting. meme source: uknown.

❝ oh, but sherlock, my love. what would the fun in that be? ❞

how she knows that it must kill him, being unable to read her the way that he reads everyone else. irene prides herself in being an enigma to the smartest man that she had ever met. and oh, she had known many men in her time. sherlock holmes stood the test of time. smart really was the new sexy. she blew out the smoke of her cigarette right into his face, knowing that he was trying so desperately to quit, as she leaned closer to him. her legs moved over his waist. they couldn't be closer to one another. she laughed at the look on his face, brushing her thumb over the lipstick smudge she left on his lips. ❝ not everything in life is a puzzle you have to solve, darling. that's half the fun of it. if you know everything, then what is there left to chase? ❞ moving over him, she perches herself on his lap, one arm loosely around his neck, the other pressing the cigarette to his lips.

❝ the truth of the matter is quite simple, sherlock holmes. you would be bored out of your mind if you didn't spend so many of your waking hours trying to understand how i function. ❞