Fred Thursday, WWII vet and a seasoned member of the force, is a fully Domesticated Detective. Fred can even multi-task, doing the dishes and worrying about Morse at the same time. Thanks muffinzelda for the suggestion.
Okay, but we’re not going to talk about the (probably floral) apron? Pleeeeeeeease?
my problem with writing stories is that i’d rather imagine it and play it out in my mind than actually put it into words
I saw this on her twitter and if we didn’t need anymore confirmation about the whole Daily Fail thing, here it is…
Martin walked up the house with a deep sigh. Apparently it took ages getting used to a new neighbourhood - it had been two months now and he could still feel them watching him warily, as if he was intruding, as if he didn’t belong. He knew it was unfair to think so; the whole neighbourhood had been nothing but friendly and there wasn’t a single person he disliked. Still, he couldn’t quite shake off the feeling of inadequacy. With a last look over his shoulder he opened the door. Warmth and the smell of something vaguely familiar greeted him, and before he could close the door properly he was pulled into a loving hug. He sighed again, this time for an entirely different reason. This was it. This was home. He mumbled something incomprehensible and closed his eyes, melting into Carl’s strong arms.