Welcome to the Mind TARDIS! ON HIATUS!!!
Hahah thank you so much :D feel proud to have "won the internet" ;) could you possibly recommend it to your followers who are directioners (if any IDK who follows you but please ;) )Tank oooooh

You should, my son. Go forth, claim your territory. You are a man now.

I hereby reccommend “Took a Bullet For you” by teamtomlinettes to everyone who likes 1D and/or fanfics. IT IS AMAZING.

Prompt: Sherlock investigates strange happenings at the O2 arena and discovers Larry :O

(It’s not really a strange happening, but I got some of it right! Enjoy!)

"Sherlock?" whispered John. There was no response. John sighed. "We’re lost, aren’t we?"

"We are not lost." Sherlock frowned.

"Admit it – you’ve never been here before, so your usual ‘I know all the streets in London’ trick won’t work." John smirked.

"It’s not a trick, John, you just don’t have the brain capacity to memorise the networks." Sherlock glared at the ground, his hand twitching towards the smuggled cigarettes in his pocket. God, he’d kill for a smoke…

“The guy has probably gotten away by now anyway.” John shrugged, not noticing the twitch. “Where does Moriarty find these people?” he grimaced.

“They find him.” Sherlock glanced at John with raised eyebrows. There was a moment of silence. They stared at each other, eyes met. Sherlock coughed, breaking the silence.

"Right, let’s ask directions." John sighed. He walked off, Sherlock tailing him, down several corridors and through even more door. "We’re in the bloody O2 arena – how can there be no-one around?!" John grumbled. Sherlock just followed silently for once.

Three corridors and fifteen doors later, John spied some people, and called out: “Ah! Excuse me! Sirs!” John stopped in his tracks, noticing exactly what the young lads were doing. The darker-haired one pressed the other into the wall, hands gripping the lad’s shoulders, as they kissed deeply, the wall boy’s fingers roaming into his friend’s curly hair. John drew in a breath and put an arm out to stop Sherlock from going forward. One of the boys looked up at John’s call.

“Sirs?” laughed the short boy. John cringed, but strode towards them boldly, Sherlock smirking as they walked.

“Sorry mate.” John smiled. “Do you know where we are?” he gestured to the large room they found themselves in. The boys gave them a look.

“You’re in the O2 arena.”

“Well, yes, we know that.” snapped Sherlock. John glared at him, then turned to the boy who had spoken. The lads untangled themselves from each other, patting their clothes to make themselves more presentable.

“What’s your name, mate?” John felt a bit old standing next to these young lads – it didn’t help that the shorter lad (who was still, impossibly, taller than John) laughed at him.

“My name’s Louis, and this is Harry. What do you want?”

"We’re the police. Sort of." John answered. "We’d appreciate it if you could take us somewhere more… formal?" he raised an eyebrow, to which the boys cowered in embarassment.

"Okay, Mr Policeman. C’mon, I’ll take you to my friends.” Louis beckoned to the men, who shrugged and followed.

“If these guys are in league with Moriart-”

“They’re not.”

John knew better than to ask how Sherlock knew that, so he kept silent at they walked down another fifteen thousand corridors. Eventually, they reached the backstage area of the arena, where they met another three boys.

“Zayn, Liam and Niall.” Louis introduced the others, clinging to Harry’s arm as he did so. John shook their hands.

“Nice to meet you all.”

“And you!” Niall beamed. He gazed at Sherlock, a bit wary of the intimidating man in the black coat. “Um, and your boyfriend?”

“Yes.” Sherlock. “No!” John.

John and Sherlock looked at each other - John in surprise, Sherlock in annoyance. Niall giggled.

“You haven’t happened to have seen a suspicious man running through here, would you?” Sherlock ignored John and Niall, addressing the other group members.

“Well, some guy ran through here a moment ago, but…” Liam trailed off.

“Thank you. Come along, John!” Sherlock took off down the hall, coat swishing behind him. John put a hand to his face.

“Boyfriend trouble?” giggled Harry.

“You don’t know the half of it, mate.” John sighed, running after Sherlock.

Sorry for the wait… This is kind of 2 stories in 1, so I hope you like it! This is for Lucy, who is the ultimate Larry shipper ;)

The boys had been on tour for weeks, and they were exhausted. It didn’t help that Simon was always pushing them to perform, travel the US, make fangirls fall head over heels for them… It was a lot to handle. But the 1D boys weren’t quitters, and, after all their work, they finally had a day to themselves, to enjoy being famous. Liam, Niall and Louis were practising back-flips (for a reason that no-one could fathom), so Harry and Zayn had a bit of quiet time in the small dance studio Simon had hired.

"Mind if I ask you something?" Zayn said quietly, interrupting the heavy silence.

“Go for it.” Harry smiled.

“Are you fucking Louis?” the boy grinned. It really wasn’t a question.

“Zayn!” Harry laughed, a little off-guard. “I am not!”

“But you want to?” Zayn raised an eyebrow. Harry opened his mouth. “It’s true, and you know it.” Zayn shrugged. Harry let out a strangled gasp, but dropped the act. He turned to watch Louis attempt (and fail) at another flip. The curly-haired singer sighed.

“Of course.” he smiled. “Who wouldn’t?”

“Me.” Zayn laughed. The two of them grinned at Louis for a moment, then fell back into silence.

“Harry?” Louis yawned.

“Yeah?” the boy looked up to see Louis in his pajamas, running a hand through his hair.

“I can’t sleep.”

It was night-time, and the other three-fifths of the group were asleep – you could tell, even through the thick walls, that they had dozed off from the snores coming from the bedrooms. Harry was in his own room, reading a magazine, before Louis had entered.

“Come on then.” Harry sighed, patting the duvet next to him. Louis grinned and hopped into the bed, snuggling Harry’s arm.

“Tell me a story?” he whispered, closing his eyes. Harry laughed.

“Aren’t you a little old for bedtime stories?” Harry smiled. Louis grinned too, and soon fell into a light doze, his chest moving slowly with breaths. Harry finished reading the magazine and turned off the light. He watched Louis for a moment, taking in the shape of his face, lips, nose, eyes, everything.

“Night, Louis.” Harry planted a kiss on his forehead, settling down into the sheets along with his friend.

“Night, Harry.” murmured Louis, a grin spreading across his face.