#ggaypilot

“You are ridiculously comfortable…”

John had been lying on his back in bed when he woke to a nose full of dark curls.  He debated moving, but decided against it.  He liked having an armful of detective splayed over top of him.  Sherlock turned his head and smiled up at John.  

“You do realise that this should be utterly uncomfortable, but somehow it’s not.  You are ridiculously comfortable holding me like this, our legs and arms intertwined. It makes me not want to move from this bed.”  Sherlock said his voice thick with sleep.

John ran his fingers up his back, “it is Sunday, we could have a bit of a lie in, find other ways to get comfortable.”

Sherlock smiled, “I like the way you think doctor.” Sherlock purred, leaning up to kiss John.

Hi everyone! 👋

Christina @johnwatso and I @ggaypilot are creating a johnlock fic writers group chat so we have a place to encourage and inspire each other 💫

Rules + fine print:

must be over 18 years old fill out this application form  reblog this post (likes count as bookmarks) we will choose members by september 27th track #johnlockficcersgc

I don’t know why I’m like this but I am so here you go

John burst into the coffee shop, crumpling his makeshift umbrella newspaper and tossing it in the nearest bin, the freak fall rainstorm soaking into his soaks as he walked up the black strip of carpet toward the register. There was a small line—two people between him and the counter—and he sighed, tugging up the sleeve of his emerald green jumper to check the time.

Fifteen minutes until class. He could make it.

The first customer moved aside, the man in front of him stepping up to the cash, and John tugged his backpack around to the front, fishing for his wallet when a familiar voice froze his fingers.

“Large coffee, black, two sugars.”

He looked up, scanning from the crown of tousled brown curls to the sweeping hem of the long wool coat, believing his eyes even less than his ears.

“Light, medium, or dark roast?” the cashier asked, followed by a lengthy pause.

“Medium,” the man said with no degree of certainty, the cashier nodding and bowing her head to the buttons, John’s tongue running away from him as coins clinked into the palm of her hand.

“Sherlock?”

The man turned, familiar steel blue eyes blinking puzzledly.

“John?” he said, gaze sweeping over him, John hoping against hope there weren’t any obvious stains on this pair of jeans. “What are you-”

“You can pick that up at the end,” the cashier broke in, bobbing her head toward the lip at the far edge of the counter, and Sherlock turned back around, blearily stepping aside as the girl weaved her head to look around his shoulder. “What can I get you?”

“Er,” John murmured, tearing his eyes away and stepping up to the register, Sherlock hovering awkwardly a few feet away, “latte. Small.”

She nodded, inputting the order and handing him his change, and John tossed it hastily into his pocket, shuffling to Sherlock’s side.

“So,” he chuckled, rocking back on his heels, hands tucked into his pockets, “come here often?”

“What are you doing here?” Sherlock asked, blunt as ever, but John supposed it was a comfort in this day and age to know some things never changed. “I thought you joined the army.”

John swallowed, all his imagined versions of this conversation abandoning him when he needed them most. “I, er...got a scholarship,” he muttered at the floor, Sherlock’s silence pounding against his eardrums.

“And didn’t tell me?”

The soft question landed heavy, and John winced, lips parting as he lifted his chin.

“I-I thought it’d be better to just...leave it be.”

“Better,” Sherlock snipped, “or easier?”

“Sheldon!”

Sherlock turned around, scanning the name on the cup and dragging it off the counter with a sigh. “Every time,” he grumbled, and John smiled, not sure he was allowed to laugh at the moment. Sherlock stared down at his coffee, teeth pinching at the corner of his lip, and then shook his head, as if rattling something loose. “So,” he muttered, eyes peering over the lid of his cup as he lifted it to his lips, “where’d you get this scholarship?”

John blinked up at him, but, after four years, Sherlock’s face had returned to being unreadable, a bitter—but deserved—pill to swallow. “Barts,” he replied, and then started, glancing down at his watch as his latte thumped down on the counter. “Shit,” he hissed, looking up at Sherlock’s quirked brow. “I have an exam,” he said, collecting his drink, eyes darting to the door. “I-I have to-”

“Go,” Sherlock finished, nodding down at his drink, a piece of his mask chipping away to reveal a sad curl of his mouth, and John’s heart bounced against his shoes before sinking through the floor, marvelling at the horrors of full circles.

“I-I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s fine,” Sherlock said, shaking his head and stepping back, a retreat of a different kind chilling the air around them. “I’m sure I’ll...see you around.”

John flinched.

Sherlock turned away with a farewell smile, starting for a table in the corner, John’s heart hammering as his gaze darted between the door, his watch, and Sherlock’s retreating back.

“Wait!” he blurted, a syllable long overdue, and Sherlock spun around, eyes wide at the volume John already regretted, several unwanted pairs of eyes now drawn to their exchange. “Look, I- Maybe I’m just crazy,” he rambled, shaking his head, “or-or haven’t had my coffee yet”—he lifted the cup—“but I-I don’t think things like this just...happen.”

Sherlock’s head tilted. “Things like what?”

“Like this,” John said, waving a hand between them. “Us, running into one another. I mean, what are the odds?”

“I wouldn’t bet on them,” Sherlock muttered, shrugging a shoulder, but the swallow rolling down his throat belied his easy tone. “But what does it matter?”

“I-I’m just saying, it- Fuck!” he exclaimed, glancing at his watch again. “Okay, I know this is not a conversation to have in two minutes, but that’s all I’ve got, so, I’ve regretted breaking up pretty much since it happened but was too scared to say anything, and then it got to be too long, and then I didn’t care that it had been too long but you’d changed your number, and nobody from secondary school knew where you’d got off to, and you’re not on the internet anywhere—how is that even possible anymore?—and I’d really like to get a proper coffee sometime if you don’t think I’m an irreparable ass.”

Sherlock’s mouth was hanging open, his coffee tipping at a dangerous angle as his eyes blinked owlishly, but striking Sherlock Holmes speechless was an achievement he didn’t have the time to celebrate.

“I-I really hate to rush you, but-”

“Okay,” Sherlock interjected, a single dazed word that almost swiped John’s knees out from under him.

“O-Okay?”

Sherlock confirmed it with a nod, his soft smile framed with pinkening cheeks.

“Okay,” John said, testing the word on his tongue, “okay, er...same time tomorrow?”

Sherlock laughed. “Sure,” he agreed, smile broadening under twinkling eyes as John only continued to stare. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“SHIT!” John exclaimed, throwing a wave over his shoulder and rushing out the door, heart lighter than it had been in years with Sherlock’s laugh at his back.

What do you use to plan your writing?

This week’s theme is alternating POVs. Today’s post is a short one shot. If you like this fic, please consider leaving it a comment/kudos!

Love As The Stars Went Out - salambo06 / @ggaypilot (1.5k words)

“In some universe,” Even whispers, lips soft against Isak’s neck, “you are walking back home and I’m on your path, Isak.”

~

The truth is, there isn’t a universe out there where either of them exists without the other.

Our Ramblings:

Writing in this fic is incredibly beautiful in its simplicity; each word is used so effectively

Despite the many different universes described in this fic, continuity is maintained throughout the whole thing with the writing style and parallels which is very impressive

Overall, fic has a breathtakingly gorgeous atmosphere to it that’s really enjoyable to read

Note: this fic is rated M.

Sarah’s favorite lines:

“But the real question, Isak,” Even breathes out, and Isak is certain he can feel the air against his cheek. “Have you seen the way I look at you?”

Isak’s eyes snap back open, dozens of questions surely dancing in them, and he finds each and every reply in the lines of Even’s smile.

Kathi’s favorite lines:

oh, what is this martin’s website??

this was so hard wow

Holding my sister for the first time when she was a baby and being terrified but feeling so much love for her instantly

The day of the marriage equality vote in Ireland where everything was filled with so much joy and I came out to my mum and it was just the most beautiful day

Going to see Coldplay for the second time which cancelled out my very bad memories associated with a Coldplay concert so it was an experience I desperately needed to stop hurting and it was so wonderful and spent with my best friend so it couldn’t have been in a better way

This isn’t an overly positive thing but going to Arlington with my dad so he could visit JFKs grave while we were on our New York trip together because he’s wanted to do that since he was 16 and I’m glad I got to be there with him

I have very clear happy memories of going to arizona for a massive family christmas with my stepmum’s family and feeling the most loved I ever had when I was 8

Septembre va toujours rimer avec retour à l'école pour moi.........