#beyond answers

[l4long-winded]

s e r i e s m a s t e r l i s t

r e a d o n a o 3

summary: your upstairs neighbor is a pain to deal with for several reasons. not only does he annoyingly play his violin at all hours of the day, but he's also rude and patronizing. what makes matters worse is how he soon requires your help in a case he's working on. or, in other words, the five times sherlock holmes deduced you and the one time he was wrong (cavill!sherlock x afab!reader)

warnings: enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, condescending!sherlock, seamstress!reader, denial of feelings, close proximity, reader has a nickname, arguments, murder mystery, sexual tension, miscommunication, original characters, offscreen character deaths, alcohol consumption, cursing, overthinking, longwinded descriptions, kissing, flirting, suggestive language, a slight slowburn, dirty talk, praise, vaginal penetration, vaginal fingering, grief, angst, fluff, victorian era, smut (please let me know if there are other warnings i need to add)

word count: 50,000+

t a b l e o f c o n t e n t s

i. a sleep deprived meeting

your upstairs neighbor plays the violin often. so much so that it's distracting you from your work. you decide it's time to confront him.

ii. consequences and a lead

sherlock doesn't usually regret things, but he's regretting how he spoke to you. it's not out of the goodness of his heart, however.

iii. mr. wright and jane austen

sherlock observes you from afar and learns things against his own whim. that's what he'll keep telling himself.

iv. the distraction of rising temperature

now that you and sherlock are at a friendlier standing, it's time to explore more of your friendship. or whatever it is.

v. concealed feelings and abstract attitudes

the morning after your drunken fiasco is not any less awkward than you could have guessed. there seems to be a strain on your relationship with sherlock that seeps into the trips you go on together for his investigation. you don't know why he's acting the way he is, you just know that it's angering you.

vi. the puzzling case of clara grace and intricate, convoluted emotions

there are a few ways that you and sherlock reconcile. one involves a bed, the other involves a carriage, a dance, and then there's the matter of the revolver. what was once unclear begins to be disclosed, but it can only be unveiled to a willing, open, and observant eye. you're going to find what's there as well as what you want to be there.

#beyond answers #l4l.writes #sherlock holmes #sherlock x reader #henry cavill sherlock #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill #enola holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #beyond answers masterlist

[bread-that-draws]

Flowey’s so funny and has me so fucked up like he’s a talking flower. He tries to kill you upon your first interaction. He is ten years old. He is damaged beyond repair. He’s a flower named Flowey. He’s become friends with every single character. He’s killed all of them countless times. He knows everything about everyone. He doesn’t care anymore. He takes care of his mom when she can’t take care of herself. He’s killed her before. He doesn’t care if you kill her. He thinks she’s trying to replace him. He just wants to be himself again. He wants to destroy everything. He hates you. You’re the only one who understands him. He wants his best friend back. He’s terrified of them. He believes in kill or be killed because he died by giving mercy to the wrong person. He believes himself to be the wrong person. He doesn’t understand when you show him that kindness he showed others, even when you know he could kill you for it. He’s tried every route. He asks you if you have anything better to do when you try to do the same. He’s a direct reflection of the player. He’s a fucking talking flower named flowey and his only voice line is by Ronald McDonald and his officially licensed plush does a little dance for you

#‘Flowey would listen to i bet on losing dogs by Mitski and cry until he throws up and Chara calls him cringe from beyond the grave’ #-me to my friend when I ranted about this last night #he has me so fucked up like oh my god #how is the best character a fucking talking flower #I love undertale’s writing so much like it’s mastered minimal evidence giving away the biggest parts of characters #i can analyze him i can study him under a microscope #i can put him in a terrarium with a sticky note that says gay baby jail you know #he has me SO fucked up #flowey #flowey the flower #asriel #asriel dreemurr #I’m talking about flowey btw not asriel i know they’re the same person but not to me #like how i consider little baby me and fucked up 13 year old me different people #asriel sits on the playground and cries when nobody wants to play warrior cats with him #and flowey sits in the back of classrooms and answers ‘life is MEANINGLESS’ to every question #not speaking from experience ofc (im lying) #love my edgy flower *puts a magnifying glass up to him and notes how fucked up he is* #i think more characters need to be fucked up beyond repair #undertale #utdr #character analysis

[teathattast]

#text message memes #funny texts #back when i worked in fast food i made it a point to go below and beyond and never answer calls outside of my scheduled days

[plant-ago]

@quiddie’s use of color and symbolism for Suvi is fantastic. Not only does she wear pretty much exclusively citadel colors (blue) despite her favorite color being red, but her blue hair is a result of flying too close to the sun as a child… getting too excited about the promise of wizardly power in the erith depository, and when she tried to channel it through herself, it nearly killed her, and (I assume) left her with permanently white hair, so that she now dyes it blue. She was so enamored with wonders of the citadel that she gave up a part of herself to become a part of it. It has molded her in ways that she does not fully understand, and she must put parts of herself aside to allow that.

I’m feeling a little emotional about the Sky having to be blue all the time, but secretly liking red better.

#Aabria answer for your crimes #suvirin kedberiket #But we’ll get there #I think that’s how you spell erith? #Bc suvi #the wizard the witch and the wild one #worlds beyond number #wbn #wbn spoilers #ep 18 #Org

[ddarker-dreams]

How much do you think it takes to fluster the husband rotation???

it doesn't take much?? not most people's definition of 'much', at least.

for chrollo, overhearing you talk about him (whether it be on the phone or you haven't noticed him standing there yet) gives him pause. it's in instances like these that people reveal their true colors. he's confident in his ability to read you, sure, but hearing your unfiltered thoughts out loud? that's an opportunity he'd kill for. metaphorically and literally. he waits with bated breath, almost embarrassed by his anticipation. you'd think he was a school girl eavesdropping on her crush. and when he hears you not only call him handsome, but emphasize just how much you enjoy your discussions with him? those very discussions that he cherishes dearly? he smiles without realizing it. faced with death, his heart remains steady. faced with anything related to you, it can't slow down.

gojo is, to the surprise of no one, kinda weird. you could huskily whisper the naughtiest line into his ear — he'd just grin and flirt back. he gets so caught up in outdoing you that he forgets to feel embarrassed. want to leave him speechless and knock the air from his lungs? it's surprisingly simple. steal one of his shirts, wear it as your PJs, then doze off waiting for him to return home. he secretly feels bad that his work hours are so erratic. he'll tell you not to stay up for him, but that doesn't mean he isn't touched when you try. the idea of you sitting there, fighting to stay awake because you want to spend time with him? cupid's arrow couldn't compare to the emotions that makes him experience. this, along with the added bonus of his too large shirt engulfing your form does him in. gojo takes enough pictures to necessitate buying additional cloud storage.

for scaramouche..................... just be nice to him without ulterior motives. that's it. no, really. he can't comprehend kindness. he understands transactions, where anything done for the sake of another is still ultimately for one's own benefit. this cynicism has helped him navigate fatui politics yet impedes any personal growth. brew him his favorite bitter tea, organize his belongings, gift him a homemade trinket; he'll flitter through multiple emotions. suspicion, confusion, then, finally, this warm sensation in his supposedly hollow chest that he can't find a word for. this little act haunts him. he can't stop obsessing over it. he wants to find proof that you're like every other wretched, self-serving creature in this world — (or does he?) — but his investigation proves unsuccessful. confronted by this undeniable reality, he's left to wrestle with the implications. you're genuinely thoughtful (ew) and most egregious of all, he likes it (ew x2). this is going to be his undoing, isn't it...?

blade is similarly simple. you needn't jump through hoops of fire to get his obstinate heart pounding. as for what does him in most effectively — your greetings. it's why he shows up unannounced. you'll freeze, giving him a once over, eyebrows cutely scrunching together as your brain puts two and two together. then stars twinkle in your eyes. you glow with the radiance of a thousand suns, running at him, your arms outstretched and legs keen on jumping. he catches you with ease. he's grateful that your face is buried into his chest. otherwise, you'd spot how the tip of his ears go red. what has he ever done to deserve such an enthusiastic welcome? nothing, as far as he's concerned. he doesn't deserve it, doesn't deserve you, yet here you are, excitedly rambling in his arms over his return. he'll say he just happened to be in the star system and decided to stop by. don't believe him. he traveled across the universe for you.

#crying irl.............. #they need help so bad #i could fix them (except for gojo he's beyond my abilities) #chrollo x reader #scaramouche x reader #gojo x reader #blade x reader #chrollo brainrot #gojo brainrot #scaramouche brainrot #blade brainrot #concepts #answered #Anonymous

[fishsticksloser]

Can I request

Hobie x fem reader

The reader tries to keep Hobie a secret from her toxic family but Hobie ended up meeting them.

Thank you ❤️

Family Business

Hobie x fem!reader

Warnings: swearing, toxic family, angst, Hobit is a flirty bastard..., a bit of insecurity, Hobie tries to help you rebel cause that's what he does..., Mr. Hobart Brown is now a life coach...

A/N: I'm with you on this one, I wouldn't want him to meet some of my family. This became a lot longer than anticipated...

Sometimes it was a little exhausting keeping Hobie from your family. You tried not to be around your family at all, but sometimes it was unavoidable.

"Hey, Hobie?" You walk into the kitchen where Hobie was making lunch. You wring your hands anxiously. "My family is coming over so... Could you not be in the apartment tomorrow? I'm sorry its such late notice..."

"Oh?" He questions, turning to face you. "What's the occasion?" A wide grin pulling at his lip, eyes sparkling. He's never met your family, he finds himself intrigued by them though. Are they really that bad? "Sure. I'll find something to do." Hobie shrugs, it must be important if you're asking him to leave.

"They just decided they wanted to pop in. I just found out and they'll be here tomorrow afternoon." You sigh, a bit relieved that he was so understanding. "I'm really sorry."

"It's no big deal." Hobie reassures you with a smile. "Do they give you trouble or something?" He raises an eyebrow, concerned.

"Ah, well, yes..." You shrug lightly. "Mostly if they saw you, it'd be a whole thing." You make 'blow up' gestures.

"Oh, like a 'No Boys, Ever!' kina thing?" He asks, a bit of sarcasm in his tone. He chuckles a little, glancing down at you.

"No. No." You shake your head and frown slightly. "More of a 'why are you with this gorgeous man, you must be paying him' kinda thing and then it'll blow up, and..."

"Are you saying I'm too good looking for you?" Hobie queries, nudging your shoulder.

"You were a runway model, so yeah."

"Hey, I had to pay my rent somehow. They'll be up in your business about it, huh? I can handle that. No need for me to leave unless it'll make things harder for you."

"Believe me, once they see you and start asking questions, you'll wish you hadn't stayed."

"You can't be serious... They're not that shallow and superficial, are they?"

"Dead serious."

"Do you usually let them pressure you into doing things their way? Because if so, I think this is the perfect time for you to draw a hard line and not bend to their will. It could be good for you."

"I don't follow their rules anymore since I don't live with them, but if they knew that..."

"Would they disown you?"

"No. They'd keep me from seeing the family I actually do want to be around. If they knew about you, well... Are you prepared for them to accuse you of being in it for money? For only being here because I'm paying you?"

The words hit Hobie like a slap to the face, his eyes go wide as he absorbs what you've said. That's their first reaction? Why? What kind of family would ever consider saying something like that?

"So what... They think you're alone...? Single and celibate?"

"Uh... Yeah, yep." You confirm.

He's at a loss for words. This is... absurd. There are no words to describe how Hobie feels right now. How he feels about your parents, the situation you're in.

"You're family is f-" He starts, but quickly corrects himself. "Insane."

"Say it with your chest." Encouraging him to say whatever he wants.

He doesn't want to upset you, but this... this doesn't sit right with him. "Your parents are fucking crazy." He utters, glaring at the ceiling. His anger only seems to grow. "How could someone like you come from that? Who do they think they are controlling you? Dictating who you date, who you sleep with, if you can live your like freely? Have you ever thought about cutting them out of your life?"

"Pure luck?" You jest, trying to cheer him up with a joke to his first question. "I've thought about cutting them off, but that'll cut ties with family I do want to see."

Hobie snorts at your little joke, but he loses the small smile as you continued. "Still. You shouldn't have to do that. I mean, do you let them dictate the rest of your life? The way you look, they way you act, who you love?"

"Considering you're here... Absolutely not, but under no circumstances am I putting you in their line of fire." You answer quickly, shaking your head slightly.

"I can handle it." He replies with a shrug. He says that, but you know the thought of being in front of your family makes him uncomfortable. He was ready to do it for you though. That alone speaks volumes about how far he'd go to help you. "Your family can't keep getting away with controlling your life like this... What are you going to do? Just let them push you around for the rest of your life? Let them manipulate you into doing whatever they want?"

"What will pushing back accomplish? It'll cut me off from family."

"How is doing nothing better? You're just letting them walk all over you and control you like a puppet! Don't you want your life back?"

"It's not that simple."

"Life is never easy. Some people are luck, but others - like us- are born into difficult circumstances. But that doesn't mean we have to let the hardships stop us from living. Maybe it's not simple. Maybe it means making difficult decisions, taking a stand, or fighting for what we want. But we can do that - we have to."

🎸⋆⁺₊⋆♱🕷♱⋆⁺₊⋆🎸

It'd been a month or so since that night, but you'd blocked your parents on everything. Now you felt more comfortable sharing your personal life, and Hobie. You had fought like hell to get to this point, but you did it. It was one hell of a victory to win and you celebrated.

At first you took your freedom for granted, maybe you still do. No matter what, you knew there was no going back. You were free and planned to stay that way.

You wandered together beneath the hot London sun, through the concessions during a Spider-Man festival, you found it a bit humorous since the man behind the mask was holding your hand. Hobie's mood is contagious, you find yourself smiling as well. How could you not? Everything is so energetic, everyone is so excited and in good spirits, ready to have a good time.

"Do you ever feel weird about all this?" You ask as you weave through the throngs of people. "People throwing festivals and stuff in your honor but having no clue it's you?"

"Honestly?" He answers with a soft laugh. "Sometimes, yeah. I never really get used to it. People are obsessed with Spider-Man, so when they start acting like complete geeks over him, it makes me feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone or something. I'd never complain about it though." He wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling your back against his chest as you stand in line. "Especially if it means seeing you smile like this..."

"Cheesy bastard..." You huff playfully, wrapping your hands around his forearms.

"Damn right I am." He cackles, pulling you closer. "Admit it! You love my lame puns and bad one-liners. You can't get enough of them!" He dips his head down and kisses you, lingering for a moment. He's not done flattering you though. "See? You're addicted to me..."

You laugh, opening your mouth to start denying everything. "Y/N?" You hear a familiar voice call and you freeze. Hobie pulls his head back, immediately picking up on your discomfort. He pulls you impossibly closer, searching for the source of your anxiety. He finally spots it. A stranger, well to him at least.

"Do you know her?" He whispers, still holding you close.

"That's my mom..." You mumble. You turn away from her, hoping she didn't see you.

"What do you think she wants?" He asks in a rushed whisper. "How do we deal with this?"

"I wish you could turn invisible..." You mutter, trying to think of something.

Before Hobie even has a chance to think of a response, your mom is right in front of you. "Y/N!" She cries, pulling you out of Hobie's grasp and into a big hug. "You're so skinny! You're not eating enough, that explains why we haven't heard from you in weeks!" Her eyes flicker over to Hobie as she lets go. "Who the hell are you?"

"This is Hobie... My... um..." You try, but Hobie doesn't like labels. There's no word to really describe your relationship.

Hobie immediately picks up on your issue, his eyes narrowing in contemplation. "We're together. An item..." He answers, a bit hesitant but firm.

"An item? You can't even tell me what your relationship actually is?" Your mom asks, smiling almost smugly. "So... She's paying you?"

"Paying me?" Hobie grits, looking at you before shooting your mother a glare. He's livid, grabbing your waist and pulling you back against him. He can't believe she'd say something so underhanded and insidious.

"Oh please." Your mother rolls her eyes. "Like you'd ever go for someone like my daughter without some sort of payment."

Hobie's anger nearly boils over; he's ready to get in your mother's face and start screaming. Instead, he takes a deep breath and speaks calmly, his voice dripping with sarcasm and spite. "What do you want from us, lady? An apology? An explanation? Because I'm not apologizing for loving your daughter and I don't owe you a damn thing."

"Loving my daughter?" Your mom laughs snidely. "Look at her. You could have anyone and you 'picked' her?"

Hobie's anger gives way to confusion as your mother's cruel words register. How could someone be so heartless? Who says something like that about their own child? As though you were some sort of object - an object that isn't worth any sort of love. "You have no idea what you're talking about so why don't you keep your mouth shut?"

"Excuse me?" Your mom glares daggers at Hobie.

"Did I stutter? Is your hearing okay?" Hobie snaps, his tone venomous. His jaw clenched with anger, he doesn't care what your mother thinks of him. He wants nothing more than to tear her apart, but he holds himself back. Refusing to stoop to her level.

Your mother huffs angrily and stomps away, you finally relax against Hobie's chest. "You didn't have to do that..."

"Yes, I did." He replies, frowning. He can still feel the residual anger and hatred radiating from him. "I'd do it a hundred times over if it meant protecting you. No one - and I mean no one - is going to talk to you that way while I'm alive. No one."

You turn in his arms, wrapping your own around his waist in a tight hug, hoping to relieve some of his anger. Hobie immediately accepts, pulling you closer. For a moment all he can do is hold you, breathing in the sweet smell of your hair. His grip tightens around you, his anger fading away. He rests his head against your head, eyes closing as he keep ahold of you.

"Did you mean what you said?" You mumble into his chest, your voice slightly muffled.

He goes still, pondering your question. "Of course I did. Why wouldn't I?" His voice is calm and soft. "It's the truth. I won't let anyone treat you that way." Hobie kisses the top of your head, his voice filled with determination.

"Not that." You laugh, shaking your head. "You said you 'wouldn't apologize for loving me...' Did you mean it?"

"Oh. That." He pauses for a moment. "Um... Yeah. I meant it."

"That's good." You nod thoughtfully. Hobie seems a bit anxious, waiting for you to reciprocate. "I love you too."

After a few seconds, a smile breaks out on his face. He leans down and presses his lips to yours - a gentle show of affection.

#{fish answers•°} #{jojo-munson•°} #sony spiderverse #beyond the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderverse #spiderpunk #hobie brown x reader #hobie spiderverse #hobie brown #hobie x reader #hobie x you #hobie my beloved #atsv hobie #spiderman x you #spiderman x reader #spiderman

[a-s-levynn]

Tiny Token wishes to offer their deepest affections to everyone who desires to receive it on this day of celebration of love

#i love you all and i hope today is kind to all of you #guys i really can't do individual messages to everyone because i would be terrified of missing someone out #so this is my offering to the pool of extra bit of love and fun stuff going around today #but i will answer to everyone who sent me stuff because i appreciate it beyond words #tiny token #sleep token #sleep token fanart

[onceuponagalaxyfarfaraway]

do yall think suvi has the most beautiful, elaborate handwriting (that she's incredibly proud of) or the messiest, illegible cursive (that she's secretly embarrassed by)

#this benefits me in no way i was thinking about it at work tho #the academics i know cannot write for shit but suvi feels like neat handwriting to me so now im confused #aabria if ur reading this i would love an answer also ur my fav #my hc is that ame has grandma handwriting bc grandma wren taught her to write #and that eursulon has neat but very childish handwriting because ame & suvi taught him when they were kids and he hasn't had practice #worlds beyond number #suvi kedberiket #the wizard the witch and the wild one #twtwtwo

[winged-mammal]

please reblog and talk in the tags, because if this stays within my little orbit I know exactly what the results will be but I NEED TO KNOW

#god I know I'm gonna regret asking if this *does* go beyond my little orbit #but burning questions require answers #even if they'll burn me #fic #my polls #I was going to include a #'just read second person pov like god intended' option #but that would probably have a big overlap with 'never read and never will' and skew the results #so

[mountaindaddiesanddragons]

If y'all aren't on the WBN Patreon idk what you're doing

#brennan lee mulligan #colloidal silver lover BLeeM #aabria iyengar #lou wilson #erika ishii #worlds beyond number #lost in the sauce #WBN #also Aabria and Erika were COWARDS for not answering the question about Eursulon and knotting

[l4long-winded]

ii. consequences and a lead

summary: sherlock doesn't usually regret things, but he's regretting how he spoke to you. it's not out of the goodness of his heart, however (cavill!sherlock x afab!reader)

reflection: this second part may be the shortest of this mini-series, but i do plan for things to pick up after. the third part is already sitting at over 3,000 words and it's unedited and unfinished. i am excited to see interest going up since i've been thinking about this story for months now. watching it come to life has been a fun and challenging endeavor so i hope you enjoy! please feel free to leave feedback to your heart's desire.

warnings: seamstress!reader, condescending!sherlock, mystery brewing, cursing, suggestive language, somewhat slowburn, enemies to lovers, eventual smut, victorian era (please let me know if there are other warnings i need to add)

word count: 1,834

previously: a sleep deprived meeting

The joints in Sherlock’s knuckles crack as he flexes his hand at his side, jaw squaring off the longer he stands and stares at the golden 221A sitting on the door ahead. He’s not one to be apologetic, and he currently isn’t whatsoever. There always come these instances where he comes off as rude because of how blunt he is and how blatant he can be in his dismissing tone. Misunderstandings occur, bitterness emerging as a result since he’s a problem solver, not a linguist meant for socializing and getting along with others. Because of this, sometimes he’ll say the wrong thing and hurt feelings he never meant to in the first place. Though, he doesn’t turn back on the things he says, not unless he finds he’s logically in the wrong. This is hardly ever the case. He may be inept in reading and coddling emotions, but that doesn’t mean he’s off the mark. That doesn’t mean he’s not right.

In his line of work, there are bound to be feathers ruffled. No one likes to be analyzed, much less when it comes to a crime they’ve committed. You, the one sitting behind this door, have not committed any crime (to his knowledge), but you’re connected to the one he’s investigating at this moment. It’s been two days since you rattled the stairs and confronted him at his flat. He made it very clear how he didn’t want to be disturbed through how he talked and how he disregarded you, how he ignored your complaint about his violin because it was the only thing helping him navigate his proactive brain in this puzzle of a mess. Much like you, he hadn’t slept in a while, which could have caused him to be ill-mannered from the stress building in the background (another thing to ignore), so he didn’t want to rid of the one thing keeping his head together. He could have just gone to sleep to avoid being discourteous and refrain from chiming his violin further, but that’s not how it went down. He’s now suffering from the consequences of his actions, having to wait patiently after he knocks, to which then he would have to answer for his actions, all for a chance at a lead.

He went back to reviewing his evidence yesterday, a day after the incident with you, and he realized the piece of fabric etched with dried crimson at his disposal matched the same fabric of the sleeves adorning your forearms. You didn’t utilize the same fabric on your skirts or on your bodice, he would have noticed this. He has a tendency to notice just about everything and with you… with you it was easier than usual. Every detail matters, it’s the mantra that plays every time he observes someone much more than they need to be. It’s the same one that egged him on to note the color of your eyes, the way your hair fell into your face, and how your chest heaved in the anger you tried and failed to hide in order to file your noise complaint. Where he can restrain himself and dwindle down whatever emotions may lie in him, the little that there are, you are the antithesis. You wear your emotions on your sleeve, the sleeve made out of his evidence, even if the occasion calls for a calm demeanor. Perhaps such a demeanor would have worked with someone else who wasn’t Sherlock, who wasn’t as stubborn about their music and their contemplation.

It’s the demeanor he writes on his face at this moment, willing himself to knock onto the door with a cautious fist that doesn’t teeter on too soft or too hard of a pressure. Either one and you may consider him passive or a brute. He thinks about things like this, things others would brush over since they deem them too simple or too trivial. Nuances can make or break perception even if said person’s perception is unaware of them.

“Be right there!” comes through the door and Sherlock unconsciously begins to time your arrival. He shifts his weight to his right and counts the seconds under his breath, 16, 17, 18, you must be in the middle of something. It could be you’re crafting a dress, or he’s caught you in the middle of lunch, or perhaps you’re tending to a customer at this very moment and he’s interrupted your business. You interrupted his, but from how you didn’t seem to care about his appearance and his name, he knows you’re unfamiliar with him and his work. 34, 35, 36, he couldn’t possibly think everyone in the area knew him, but he would think that at least his downstairs neighbor would. This is a place where it’s easy for infamy to travel. Word gets out through the papers, through his visits to various locations nearby, his legend expanding with every case he solves. But, now that he thinks about it, he doesn’t recall when you moved in. You must be new, certainly. He would’ve remembered… oh, he definitely would’ve remembered you.

Sherlock is about to start the 50s in his counting when your door comes open. He watches the scenery come slowly to him from your flat, his head moving until it stops to see you step through in… in a chemise sans any other form of layering. Your hair is up again, but the strands that have fallen out of the pins are wet and darkened. That’s why it took you so long. You weren’t working on anything nor were you eating—you were taking a bath. And a relatively good one since your face immediately falls upon the recognition of Sherlock, a bright, relaxed grin giving way to a grimace. Something about that is amusing to him, but he doesn’t let it show on his face. Antithesis, remember?

“Mr. Holmes… to what do I owe the pleasure?” You’re mocking in your tone, eyes rolling to the ceiling. Oddly enough, you don’t turn away from him. Your shoulder sags into the door frame, arms crossing against your chest. The dainty fabric draws attention there coupled with the action, swells above your breasts that he immediately turns away from. He’s rebellious in refusing to look despite a curiosity filling him. It’s an unfortunate matter that you’re not the worst thing to look at. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Something about you is pleasing to his eyes, attractive in a way he knows is bound to turn heads had you walked down the length of a pub with suitors tossing waves about for a single glance their way. He’s come across beautiful women in the past, some who have attempted to gain his favor, others who have done so to gain his fortune. You’re a bit different since you’re seeking to do neither and he’s the one who needs something here. The power scales have tipped, and he can feel sweat on his brow thinking of how you can deny him and saunter back into your flat. Back into that bath. Free of the chemise, the gentle steps of your bare feet tracing back to a tub most likely. He smells lavender coming from you and he determines you were trying to relax before he showed up.

“Uh,” he clears his throat, stands straighter and focuses on a spot just above your head. It’s easier than staring since his brain is deducing everything about you without his permission. It has a wreckless habit of doing that, working against him instead of for him. “Excuse me for bothering you, but I’ve discovered something that requires your expertise.” He swallows a knot in his throat when he hears you laugh in what he can only call spite. He stops himself from knitting his eyebrows together, knowing very well how he must be put together if he wants to gain further information. This is one of the routes he saw thinking of how this conversation could go.

“Mr. Holmes, surely you must be joking. My expertise? Really?” Your hand covers your mouth to muffle further laughter so at least you’re trying to be friendlier than days ago, but it’s a futile endeavor. Sherlock can feel the disdain for him radiating off of you and he can’t blame you considering how he acted. He’s still not sorry for it, but it’s understandable. Just like others who were the victims of his observations, you’re scorned and you’re not about to let him forget about it. “After how you treated me the other day, this is the last thing I expected. Not only do you have nerve, but you’re rather tenacious.” You wipe off an imaginary tear from under your eye and then sigh out blissfully once the invasion of the giggles flees. He’s not jovial in the slightest.

“I know how you feel, but this is a crucial endeavor, I can assure you. I’m a detective consultant, you see, and your knowledge may prove valuable in solving the current case I’m working on.” You’re laughing again before he even finishes. The greater good is at stake and you’re laughing. Is this how you felt two days ago? The annoyance surfacing within him is the equivalent of ants crawling in his bloodstream, air he exhales through his nose in the same fashion that a bull about to charge would. This isn’t the time for this, not at all, but it seems your talent is finding a way under his impenetrable skin. He reminds himself to maintain his steady breathing and his impassive expression as you rise taller to evade your disbelieving laughter.

“My apologies, you have a noble profession, but I’m sorry, you’re going to have to find someone else.” Your reply is what he feared would happen. Humans are riddled with emotions and they’re not always positive. He made a bad first impression and now anything he could say would only exacerbate the situation. By your reaction, you’re not taking him seriously and you won’t take him seriously even if he explains the direness of the situation. He already hates disclosing too much to anyone, this was a dud of a visit. If he thought it would get better results, he would have stopped by as soon as he made his discovery yesterday. His options ran too low and he’s reached yet another dead end.

“Fine. I’ll speak to another seamstress, maybe a tailor. Thank you.” He slightly bows at the hip, but it’s barely a motion since he’s aggravated on the inside. The puzzle will be in pieces longer until he can get to his next lead/clue and this just proves he can’t rely on anyone but himself. He pivots away from you before you could respond, before you could say anything else that would inevitably rub him the wrong way. It does little to achieve the desired effect because he hears “Good luck finding one that could think” followed by a shutting door on his way to the staircase.

#henry cavill #enola holmes #sherlock holmes #henry!sherlock #sherlock holmes x reader #enemies to lovers #beyond answers #consequences and a lead #l4l.writes

[drawbauchery]

#jay-reid #art #danganronpa #bus au #kaito momota #kokichi oma #i'm diving deep into my inbox and getting a bunch of old asks i neglected #it's so easy to get sidetracked and just hustle along but there's still a lotta stuff i wanna continue/follow up on #but it works for binge-reading purposes so don't worry about it #when you see answers referring to stuff from like. november. and beyond

[theemporium]

people always laugh about how f1 tiktok fics written by 13 year olds are cringe and lbr they undoubtedly are. i mean, how many times can Y/N crash? how many times can she be secretly pregnant while crashing? how many times can *insert driver of your choice* hop out of his car and run to her after her crash?

BUT that shit is nothing next to 1d wattpad fics. like nothing will ever come close to the absolute cringe fest wattpad was in 2012. but also.... it was a pretty magical time. like Y/N was always either reading books in the concert crowd, getting sold to one direction or she was the sister of one member and dating one of the others. and it slapped back then! that shit hit like crack when i was 13!

nothing will ever beat 2012-2015 wattpad😭it was iconic and it raised us and it was full of trash, but that was EXACTLY what we needed

#cece answers #even beyond fics #those original stories that TOOK OVER the app hit #the fucking werewolf ones were all the same but I ate that shit up

[gaelic-symphony]

From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free 🇦🇪

I usually don't publish these sorts of trolling anons, but this one was just too good not to. That is the flag of the United Arab Emirates.

You really can't make this shit up.

#asked and answered #anon #antisemitism #jumblr #it's beyond parody at this point #at least learn the flag of the country you're using as a smokescreen to harass jews ffs

[cimicherrychanga]

Complicated Relationship with God (As Seen Through Lyrics in the Character's Playlist)

#my art #wc #weirdos class #seth #hes SO weird abt religion it drives me insaaaane every time i listen to his playlist im like aughhhh #the complicated relationship is basically 'god never answered my prayers im done trying to believe. i shall take his place #and burn this whole place to the ground to create a new world' hes not okay if u were wonderin <3 #anyways. this collage is an epic rama vulnerable moment ( i am very reluctant to share what music i like beyond certain bands) #(its bc i got made fun of so much for my bad taste </3 so now im embarrassed abt every single thing i like) #showing someone music i enjoy is like. such a big thing for me its like. im entrusting u w rama secrets... #and if ur mean or dismissive i WILL be sads forever. that applies here btw <3 #if any1 is mean abt my lyric choices ill. delete my blog and disappear off the internet forever. okay? #HOWEVER on the same vein. ur invited to tell me if u know the songs...and if u know more than 5 of them we shall have a summer wedding

[lavendeerstudios]

What are the li's love language?

Love languages! For those who don't know, there are 5 basic love languages: words of affirmation, acts of service, receiving/giving gifts, quality time, and physical touch. Now let's get into it~

Giving/How they show love

Gift Giving: Wyatt Acts of Service: Jean Words of Affirmation: Vince, Andrew Quality Time: Kevin, Chris Physical Touch: Kai

Receiving/How they want to be loved

Gift Giving: Jean Acts of Service: Jean, Chris Words of Affirmation: Kevin, Andrew, Kai Quality Time: Wyatt, Vince Physical Touch: Wyatt

#lavendeerstudios #lavendeer answers #threads of you: beyond the bay #toy:btb