Sherlock X Reader - It's On Pt 2It's about 5:30pm when I slip into my well loved jacket and scarf. My hair is fluffed out and I have a hair tie on my wrist if need be. I wore a royal blue dress shirt that liked to rise up because of the elastic along the bottom hem. Dark grey stretch jeans hung low on my hips and clung tightly to my legs. These happen to be a favorite pair of mien not only because they look amazing on, but because instead of a zipper, there is four buttons and there is only butt pockets on them. Brown boots with a half inch heel which lace up the front covered my feet and reached up to mid calf.
For jewelry I had on a ring from my graduating class on the middle finger of my left hand and a silver celtic cross hung from my neck Both are well loved and extremely important to me.
With a couple 20 pound notes tucked into an inside pocket of my jacket and the door locked behind me, I begin the walk to Baker Street. Its not like it was that far away and as a bonus it was very nice out this evening, albeit
The Game - Sherlock x ReaderSherlock x reader
Fingers graced across cold bright keys of the wall piano located along the back wall of my flat; or how Americans say it, apartment. The keys struck the cords and vibrated out a note; meshing together with others being struck. Cords of rippling, emotion provoking sound filled my entire flat and most likely the floor above and below.
At first the tune was cheerfully sad as my mind thought things through. And as time went on the angrier my thoughts got, the more violent the music sounded. In a fit of rage my hands slammed down on the keys multiple times in a row creating a sort of possessed ugly sound as a full hand width of keys were pressed down upon at the same time.
With an almost wiry sigh I stand from my seat and don my well loved boomers jacket and a dark green and sliver scarf. The chilly November air nipped at exposed cheeks as I walked briskly down the street towards my favorite coffee shop.
A gust of air follows me in and a couple sends me a glare, as if dema
Mind PalaceSit back, clasp your hands
close your eyes
and dive into yourself.
What will your initial use for this be?
A place to study,
to keep track of things.
Get a vague idea at least.
Can you see yourself, move yourself
Take it slow, there's no rush
Don’t imagine yourself in a different spot – literally walk.
Keep trying because it takes practice
once you can move, decide
where you want to be when you disappear into your mind.
A boat, cabin, mansion.
Now go explore about it
Is there to much dust, was it previously abandoned?
Brush it off, clean up.
It's your palace, or should I say place?
Maybe it's a bit dark – does it feel that way?
Change the hue/saturation bar.
Where do you start – a hallway,
or a room?
Doesn't matter really,
it's just a thought.
But push that aside for now,
let us begin.
It's your to do with as you please,
but maybe your a bit lonely in this
this place within your mind.
Take your time, there's no rus
Greek Myth (Lucifer X Reader)A/N: So i can't write things with out character names, so where you see _Jill_, just add you name or something. Haha Happy readings
“Don't be alarmed.”
I screamed and spun around. “What the hell! Who are you?”
“Damn it, I said not to scream.” The man before me was angry. But what do you expect when someone pops up in your room and you're never seen them before.
“And I asked who you were! And why the hell are you in my house!?”
He growled, his handsome features scrunched up. His hands roughly running through his hair.
“My name's Lucifer -”
“Get the hell out of my house!” I screeched and chuckled a few items at him as I made my way to his door. After throwing my pink hair brush at his face I pivot and shoot through my door, bypassing the living room and out my front door. The sun had set long ago and it was pitch black outside. With fumbling fingers I pull my phone out of my jeans pocket and pressed a few buttons whi
Death the Kid One-shot
I watched my husband storm around our bedroom from my perch on the end of our queen mattress. He violently pulls open drawers and rifles through them. When he cant find what he's looking for, he cusses under his breath and moves on to the next place the item could possibly be. You may be asking what exactly was so important that brought him into such a tizzy.
It was the skull pin that rest at the hallow of his throat, keeping the collar of his dress shirt together in place of a tie. His black hair with the three horizontal white strips on the left was messy and stuck out in all directions from constantly running his slim, long fingers through it in frustration. Golden yellow eyes that could see through your soul darted around quickly, with impatience.
I'm quite surprised that he has freaked out for making our room a complete mess. Clothes were thrown everywhere, drawers half open and things thrown back into their place. He must be really frantic and deep in though if his symmetry OCD i