ref by irensupernatural: , thank you so much for giving me permission to draw this


ref by irensupernatural: , thank you so much for giving me permission to draw this

(via raggedyeleven)

Freaky Forensics! Pt. 1 

A Sherlock Fanfiction

Rated: T (for some language but really who cares)

After Sherlock and John eat fortune cookies with mysterious messages at a restaurant, some freaky things start to happen. (It’s kind of like Freaky Friday/Sherlock mashup)

               “Sherlock! You little cock! How would you feel if someone had said that to you?” John and Sherlock had been bickering all night long, and the rest of the Police department had been sitting with them, awkwardly trying to bring up new conversation topics.

                The waiter strolled over to their table with a handful of fortune cookies. “Here you go,” he said, giving a fortune cookie to each person individually. “We make our own fortune cookies, you know. The owner of the restaurant is a bit.. psychic, you know?” His jaunty attitude was contagious and made everyone at the table happy except for John and Sherlock.

                Everyone opened their fortune cookies and began to share: Lestrade had some gibberish about earning money in the new future and it made him peculiarly excited; Molly had something a bit darker about losing someone she loved and it automatically put her into a slump; Anderson’s was hopelessly confusing (Never shall the light shine on those who pass); yet, Sherlock and John’s were the strangest.

                “What you got, Sherlock?” Lestrade managed to get out with both his and Molly’s cookies in his mouth.

                Sherlock reread his out loud, “A journey soon begins, its prize reflected in another’s eyes. When what you see is what you lack, then selfless love will change you back.

                “Freaky Friday, eh? This place is cheesier than I thought.” Anderson smirked while handing his cookie to Lestrade.

                “How do you know what Freaky Fri-“Molly started to say but was cut off by John.

                “Seriously?!” We have the same one.” He read it again and then passed it around, almost beet red in the face.”

                “Well, you never know,” Donovan teased, “It could be true.”

                Later that night, John picked up the fortune and read it again quietly to himself. Then, he tossed it aside because of the ridiculousness of it.

                BEEP BEEP BEEP! The alarm clock had been ringing for five minutes straight. Sometimes Sherlock would let it run on for a few seconds extra, but this was simply absurd. Strangely, also, the alarm sound seemed to come from John’s left side, not the room over. Perhaps Sherlock accidentally put it in my room, John thought. He reached over and pressed the button on top, still blinking dazedly.

                Suddenly, he realized that he wasn’t where he was supposed to be. Why am I in Sherlock’s room? He looked around, but Sherlock wasn’t in the bed next to him. Then he got up, tiptoeing around the piles of books that Sherlock always seemed to leave around. He finally managed to get to the door, but as he was leaving, he bumped his head on the top of the doorframe.

                “Sherlock?! Sherlock?” John called through the apartment. He looked in the kitchen, but Sherlock wasn’t in there. Then he looked in the living room. Sherlock was nowhere to be found, so John figured that he would continue with his morning routine. He stumbled over to the bathroom and opened the unlocked the door, and he figured that Sherlock had just forgot to lock it.

                “Oh, sorry. Sherlock. Tell me when you get out.”

                “No, John. Come in. This is absolutely fascinating.”

                John slowly opened the door, “I swear to God, Sherlock. If you show me your dick again, I will-“

                A small man was looking in the mirror with his mouth completely open, examining every one of his teeth. He then went on to opening his eyes as wide as he could and looking at the blond hair at the top of his head. It started to sink in for John.

                “Sherlock. Why am I standing in front of the mirror?”

                “Well,” Sherlock said while exploring his ears, “I guess that fortune cookie didn’t lie.”


End of part 1

Destiel Fanfic

  ok it’s a bit short but it’s 1:30 and I don’t want to write any more…___________________________________________________________

      Dean sashayed back into the room.“Casssss,” he slurred with a goofy grin on his face, “I don’t see how this stuff doesn’t work on you.”

                Castiel, sitting straight as usual, had a beer in his hand. Six more bottles (all empty) sat to his left.

                “Angels aren’t swayed by such miniscule amounts of alcohol. We have to have hard liquor.”

                Dean giggled, overcome by the alcohol, “Hard liquor? Like Whisky?”

                “No. Our ‘alcohol’ is only found in heaven. It would kill a human, or any other being, actually, with one sip.”

                “Yikes. We should give that to Crowley.” Dean looked down at Cas and then sat, his green eyes sparkling. “Let’s play a game.”

                “Dean, you know that I will win any type of board game you try to play with me.”

                “No, silly. This is a drinking game. I’m going to get you drunk if it’s the last thing I do.”

                Cas’ stolid expression didn’t change, “You probably will. Of alcohol poisoning.”

                Dean rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Ok. It’s called ‘Never have I ever.’ In it, one person says ‘never have I ever..” He started to motion with his hands, but Cas wasn’t understanding, so he continued, “they say never have I ever and then say something that they’ve never done. If the other person has, they drink. I’ll go first, as an example. I would say: ‘never have I ever had wings. And now you drink because you do have wings.”

                “Dean, this game is pointless.” Cas said. Nevertheless, he took a generous sip of beer.

                “Ok. Your turn.” Dean grinned.

                “Never have I ever..” Castiel started to say but couldn’t think of anything. Finally he continued, “Eaten a hot dog.”

                Dean’s bellowing laugh filled the room. “Never?” he said, “No I’m sure that we’ve made you a hot dog before. Don’t be silly. Do a different one.”

                Castiel thought for a minute and then said, “Never have I ever kissed someone.”

                “Excuse me?” Dean said with a dubious face, “What about Meg? You’re really bad at this, you know?”

                “Ok, well I’ve never kissed a guy.” Dean stared at Cas, his content expression unchanging.

                “You think I’ve kissed a guy?” Dean chortled.

                Cas shrugged noncommittally, “I don’t make assumptions. Are you going to drink?” He said this almost as a challenge, though Cas’ stiff personality still shone through.

                Dean leaned back in his beige chair, eventually reaching out across the coffee table that separated them. He grabbed a beer that was sitting next to Castiel, opened it, and took a sip. All the while, his eye contact with Cas didn’t waver.

                “So, there you go. I’ve only done it once or twice, though.” Still, they didn’t break eye contact.

                “What’s it like? Compared to kissing with females.”

                “Well, the tongue is a bit thicker, so if you’re really making out, there’s more to work with.” He sort of squirmed in his seat. “I don’t know. It’s just different.” Cas didn’t speak for a few moments so Dean continued. “Here. Lean forward. I’ll show you.” He looked around to make sure that Sammy wasn’t around and then leaned forward. “Ok, lean in a bit more, Cas. I can barely reach you.” He laughed quietly because of the ridiculousness of the situation. “Now, tilt your head a bit.” Cas followed the instructions, but Dean started to laugh louder because Cas’ facial expression. “Close your eyes Cas. You look goofy.”

                Slowly shutting his eyes, Cas leaned forward a bit more. Dean leaned forward too, and, finally, they reached each other. It only lasted a couple of seconds, but then Cas leaned farther, supporting himself by placing his knee on the coffee table. Dean’s hand brushed past Cas’ ear and through his dark brown hair. He pulled Cas’ head closer towards him and soon they were adding a bit of tongue here and there.

                It was a long kiss, but it wasn’t too long. When they separated, Dean grinned while looking at the floor, “So? How does it compare?”

                Cas, however, was speechless.