#it would have been so good it would have been so good 'for you watson i would make adjustments' and how he redesigns a doll house | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

livefastdrivefaster · 4 months

Text

I Love You! | LN4

Pairing: Lando x Fem!Reader

Summary: The early stages of your relationship with Lando. Meeting his friends and saying "I love you" for the first time! Fluff (also a bit of suggestive language).

Word count: 1.2k words

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You had been dating Lando officially for nearly a month and a half now, and he had decided it was the right time to introduce you to his friend group. One of Lando’s friends were hosting a birthday dinner at their flat in Monaco, and he had spent a week convincing you that you needed to come. You felt uncomfortable at the thought of inserting yourself into his group, but you were new to Monaco, and would appreciate meeting more people your age there. You had met through a mutual friend, who would be at dinner tonight, but you had never gotten to know their extended circle.

You didn’t live in the same apartment, but you lived close enough where you decided to finish getting ready at your boyfriend’s penthouse and travel to his friend’s party together. You were in Lando’s bathroom, struggling to put your earrings on when you heard him call your name from the kitchen.

“Y/N, are you almost ready to go love?” He calls.

“Yeah!” You respond enthusiastically, cautiously treading out of the bathroom, still trying to put your earring on.

The backing finally clicks when you come into Lando’s line of sight, and you feel a blush creeping up on your cheeks as he unashamedly looks you up and down.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he says with a low voice, pulling you into him “Maybe we should just show up a little later?” He asks suggestively, placing a gentle kiss on your collarbone. You seriously didn’t mind the idea, considering how good he looked himself right now.

“I can’t let us be late to the first time I’m meeting your friends, Lando.” You laugh, wrapping your arms around his torso.

“Why do you have to be so sensible.” He sighs into your neck.

“One of us needs to be. Come on, the Uber is outside.” You say, tentatively pulling away from him. He takes your hand in his and dramatically marches forward, guiding you out the door.

- - - - - - - - - - -

The two of you were stood outside the address, bickering about who should knock on the door. You desperately didn’t want to, but Lando thought it would be good to build your confidence before meeting his friends.

“Please Lando, just do it for me.” You plead, giving him a laughable attempt at puppy eyes.

“Be a brave girl.” Lando says, lightly pushing you towards the door. You sigh loudly, raising your arm to the door.

“I am so getting payback for this.” You say threateningly, which is only met with laughter from Lando. Disappointed he saw right through your empty threat, you knock twice at the door.

“Coming!” A voice calls from the inside, and you hear footsteps approaching the door. You take a step back, letting Lando’s arm circle around your waist.

Suddenly, the door swings open and you are greeted with the face of the birthday girl.

“Y/N!” she exclaims excitedly, “You are even more gorgeous in person, come on in.” She says, pulling you into a tight hug.

“I’m here too.” Lando says sarcastically.

“This isn’t about you.” She quips back, leading you inside the flat. Lando rolls his eyes, following the two of you into the main party area.

Your arrival brings about cheers from the group, as about five people offer you a drink at once, desperate to get to know Lando’s new and elusive girl. Eventually, the energy of the party shifted into a low-key vibe, with people congregating on the couches discussing their favourite movies.

“I’ve heard enough about the Wolf of Wall Street,” a girl, whose name you find out later to be Ria, exclaims, “what about your favourite movie scenes in particular?”

“Jordan Belfort’s big party in the Wolf of Wall Street.” A guy calls out jokingly. A few groans go around the room.

“That scene in ‘Perks of Being a Wallflower’ where Emma Watson hangs out of the car in the tunnel, listening to David Bowie” You cut in, followed by awkward fumbling with your drink.

A symphony of agreement rises around the room, particularly from the girls in the group. You settle back into your seat, trying to fight a proud smile from growing on your face, happy that your comment went down well. Lando squeezed your side lightly, giving you a silent congratulations.

The conversation flowed well through the rest of the evening, and you involved yourself more, easily fitting into the lively group dynamic. Eventually, the party wrapped up, and you and Lando decided to Uber back to his, potentially to fulfil his request from earlier.

“How did that go, do you think?” You asked him, placing your head on his shoulder.

“They loved you.” He said simply.

“Yeah?”

“Well, I think you’re pretty great. And they trust my judgement.” You smiled softly at this, nestling your head deeper into the crook of his neck.

- - - - - - - - - - -

You and Lando had just finished celebrating your six-month anniversary at one of Monaco’s nicest restaurants, when you both climbed into his convertible McLaren to drive home.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, Lando’s free hand placed on your thigh. Suddenly, Lando takes an unexpected turn, leading you away from your apartment.

“Lando this isn’t the way back to mine.” You say, looking at him confused. His eyes remained focused on the road ahead, but his mouth widened into a cheeky grin.

“I know, I thought we would go the scenic route tonight.” He said casually, as if it was such an obvious thing he was doing. He takes his hand off your thigh to press a button on his centre console, causing the roof above you to open, revealing the midnight blue sky above the city.

“Let’s hope I timed this right.” Lando says to himself, and you again look at him confusedly. The song playing through the car’s sound system ends, and you hear the familiar opening notes to “Heroes” by David Bowie coming through the speakers. Your eyes flick to the road ahead of you, and you realise you’re heading towards the Monaco tunnels.

“Lando…” Your voice trails off, touched at the thoughtfulness of his gesture.

“Save the thanks for when we get home. Hop up baby, we are nearly at the tunnel.” He smiles, patting the area of the car behind your head.

You perch yourself on the flat top behind your seat, enjoying the cool air wrapping around your body.

“Are you sure this is okay?” You ask Lando cautiously.

“Of course, love. There aren’t cameras through here, and you know I will drive carefully.” You feel like a rebel, testing the law a bit. As the music swells into the chorus, you raise your arms to your side, recreating the iconic scene you talked about so long ago.

Your eyes flicker between being open and shut, wanting to take in the most of the moment, but also not daring to look away from Lando for too long. Watching his curls being tousled by the wind, you instinctively lean down to him.

“I love you!” You yell, the words leaving your mouth before you had time to stop them. Lando looks at you through the rear-view mirror, beaming a wide smile.

“I love you more!”

#ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #lando4 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lando norris f1

852 notes · View notes

milquetoast27 · 6 months

Text

The Secret of Sherlock Holmes

GRANADA FANS. If you have not heard of this play, NOW IS THE TIME TO HEAR ABOUT IT. I'd been saving it for a rainy night and it was SOO good 😭😭Please allow me to elaborate.

[heads-up, there are no video recordings of it. I listened to the audio and followed along with the script. Not ideal, but still gave me a vivid image of what was happening on-stage.]

The nuance between screen and stage allows the actors to achieve different effects that are not possible with an on-screen adaptation. Characters do not turn to the camera and just tell you their innermost thoughts, but they can in a stageplay- and it's here that we really get to hear Brett and Hardwicke's ideas about Holmes and Watson- not much of it was unfamiliar as I'd read most of Brett's views in interviews, but it was really cool to get that confirmed in an official production that he worked on. Honestly, Brett had that feeling of "I can fix him" that I think exists in all of us Holmes fans, and totally went for it. The canon (and the Granada series) is rife with subtleties and 'show, don't tell', but it is honestly refreshing for once, to have such powerful emotion depicted dramatically and audaciously on a stage. It is all too often throughout the stories that Holmes and Watson are awfully reticent about their feelings. This play is an explosion of their private thoughts that leads to finally, thankfully, a wonderful reconciliation. I love it so much as it clearly advocates for open communication being a vital factor for a good friendship. There's a good reason for why that never happened in the canon; I think it has a lot to do with the shyness and reticence of the English, and I would not be surprised most particularly with Victorian men. But Holmes and Watson do still have their moments in the canon (e.g. 3GAR & FINA), and it's what makes them stand out so shockingly much in their time.

I appreciate that this play gives us viginettes of Holmes and Watson's life together all the way up to The Final Problem. It not only sets us up for the climax later, but also shows us specifically Brett's Holmes and Hardwicke's Watson. There were changes made from the original stories, and yet felt so wonderfully in-character and flowed really well through the actors. The play exclusively stars Brett and Hardwicke, and the purpose of redoing scenes from the canon, such as STUD, NAVA, or CHAS was to highlight the status in their relationship, for example Holmes's displeasure at Watson's marriage and subsequent loneliness- important scenes that communicate Holmes's dependence on Watson. These small glimpses also give us the much-needed humour for any balanced Holmes production! It not only communicates the warm and light moments that they shared, but also helps us get more invested in this particular pair on the stage, which is still vital, even if we're already attached to the characters.

The implications that arise from Brett's portrayal of Holmes is fascinating. He admits that he'd have been dead within two years without Watson, without the indispensible role he played in controlling his addiction and mental state. He admits of the lonely and awful childhood he shared with his brother. The fact that Holmes comes forward and tells us this himself suggests he is very psychologically aware of himself and how his mind works. He understands why he has addictions, the reasons for his barriers and difficulty with emotional vulnerability. Assuming Holmes is very interested in the criminal psyche, but also his own due to his eccentricities, it makes so much sense that he would psychoanalyse himself to this degree, but also be frustrated with how little he is able to move from his rigid mindset. This interpretation works so wonderfully for Brett's Holmes, and I am so glad for this portrayal he has given us. When it comes to canon Holmes, however, I feel that this is more likely to be unconscious. I can never shake how much of Brett is actually within his Holmes. While his comes close to the original, I still see them as separate people. Granada's adaptation tends to play up Holmes's melancholy/depression a little too far for me, like a far-away, mythical creature that can never be understood, because we never get much of an opportunity to see what he really feels (perhaps Eligible Bachelor or Master Blackmailer might come close). But I feel that almost defeats the character. To me, Holmes is flawed and troubled, but he is simply human. The Secret of Sherlock Holmes portrays this fact wonderfully, because all of those feelings are rising to the surface.

We move further into speculation, but I think Brett's Holmes has also a fairly healthy understanding of the difference between social constructs and necessities, which take more importance in a queer/neurodivergent reading of him. He understands that his upbringing was due to an "accepted convention", and we see time and again how Holmes disregards social conventions or constructs and does his own thing. It's why he gets frustrated at others for not understanding him, but also accepts that it will never come easily to people. That's why he's very lucky for Watson (and Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade!) :)

Holmes's darker emotions, and Watson's fierce devotion are displayed most prominently throughout. When Watson comments on Holmes's childhood, Holmes lies about it, woeing internally over how much he conceals, to even someone as close to him as Watson. He privately shares his desire to be "found out", because sharing his feelings to Watson is too difficult. His friend takes his word for it, appreciative of the times Holmes is able to speak frankly about himself. Holmes wants to be open, and Watson wants to listen, but it's Holmes's barriers preventing it. This feeling and experience is so raw and human, and something I would imagine would resonate with many people.

The latter half of the play focuses primarily on Holmes's cocaine addiction. Pastiche writers really like that sore spot, huh. Watson's perceptiveness and powers of observation are on full force in this play. Watson can tell when Holmes is high (as a medical man, most likely), and even deduced that Holmes may still be living by Mycroft's body language. But when it came to Holmes's return from the Great Hiatus...

Something that canon Watson seems to completely forget is his anger towards Holmes. In the story, he is so star-struck and relieved that he barely considers any other feeling. Hardwicke does briefly touch on this in the Granada episode with "I thought I would be as trustworthy as your brother," but it really doesn't go further than that. In The Secret of Sherlock Holmes, Hardwicke goes FULL FORCE. This is what we needed!!! It was a powerful, hair-raising performance. When Holmes has clearly not understood the harm he has done, Watson leaves. Actually slams the door. And when he returns, he makes it very clear to Holmes why he is hurt. And yet, his devotion remains, for when Holmes starts explaining his creation of Moriarty, it takes a while before Watson is fully convinced. Watson is extremely compassionate and empathetic, yes, but he's also very grounded and level-headed, and he must draw the line somewhere. It doesn't take him long to forgive Holmes, but he knows his anger has a place in that room, and allows it to be. I appreciate that it's taken just as seriously as Holmes's troubles.

The only reason either Holmes or Watson are able to communicate so finely with each other- even through shouting and crying- is because of their emotional awareness. It's what makes their relationship work, because they are both aware of how much they mean to each other. When they move past the difficulty of sharing such feelings, their bond grows stronger.

#granada holmes #acd holmes #sherlock holmes #jeremy brett #edward hardwicke #victorian husbands

624 notes · View notes

pitchsidestories · 6 months

Text

Arsenal Book Club || Katie McCabe x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1897

With a satisfied smile Kim Little oversaw the little group of players who decided to stay after the Arsenal afternoon training to participate in the first meeting of the club’s book club: “Great, I think we’re complete now that means we can start.” “We’re more people than I expected.”, Leah Williamson admitted genuine. Next to her Lia Wälti had an amused smile on her lips: “Me too to be honest. Although some of us are more present than others.” The Swiss midfielder could not help but to nod into Noelle Maritz direction who was deep asleep using the stacked books as pillows.

Out of breath but with a huge grin on her face Katie McCabe crashed the peaceful scenery: “Hi guys, I hope you didn’t start without me.” “Katie, you were the last person I expected to come here!”, stunned Vivianne Miedema looked at one of her closest friends in the team. Playfully offended the irish woman asked:” What’s that supposed to mean?” “I’ve never seen you reading.”, the Dutch striker replied laughing.

You’ve been quiet so far, holding the book club pick in your hands but you’d never miss a chance to mock Katie so you interfered into the conversation with a challenging grin: “You can read?” “You two are so rude. I’ll sit as far away from you as possible but at least I brought the most important thing with me.”, the brunette said, a mischievous look on her face. Her expression made Jen Beattie chuckle:“ Your book?” “No, the wine, Jen!”, the Irish midfielder rolled her eyes. She lived for the drama. “So that’s why you’re here.”, Beth Mead exclaimed delighted.

Innocently Katie looked around her teammates: “Is not that what book clubs are all about? Good company and wine?” “And talking about books, Katie.”, Leah reminded her. The Irish woman threw a cocky smile in the direction of the English defender:” Did you finish a book for once, Leah?” “Of course, I finished it.”, the vice-captain mumbled although her blushed cheeks were telling the truth that she didn’t. Her schedule was just too busy.

Already slightly frustrated about the fact that the evening did not go as planned, Kim groaned: ”Can we start now?” “Yes, please.”, Lia agreed motivated while trying to ignore Noelle’s snore who got louder with each minute that was passing by. Relived the captain sighed: ”Thanks. Wait, Manu that does not look like our book club pick?” “It’s, it’s just the German translation.”, the goalkeeper explained. Sceptical Leah glanced at the Austrian:” Why would you read it in German?” “That way I can understand it better.”, Manuela Zinsberger told them, her cheeks burning red.

Katie changed the topic, holding up a bottle of wine and gesturing towards some glasses; “So who of the ladies wants wine?“ Before anyone could answer, she flashed you a flirty grin; “Does the bookish missus want a glass?“ “Katie! We didn’t even start discussing the book!“, you admonished the midfielder but couldn’t suppress a smile. “So?“, she retorted. Rolling your eyes, you finally gave in, in hopes that this would shut her up; “Okay, fine. You can fill the glasses.“ “Was that so bad?“, she grinned, filling the glasses and handing the first one to you. To your surprise, she did let you have a conversation about the book for some time, during which she made a point to look extra bored. At some point, she got up and excused herself. Vivianne followed shortly after.

At the door to the bathroom, the dutch player stopped her; “Katie, you didn’t really come here for the books, right?“ Katie stood in front of the sink, washing her hands and gasped in feigned shock; “How did you find that out, Sherlock?“ “The way you look at her, Watson.“, Viv replied, arms crossed in front of her chest. The Irish midfielder shrugged unimpressed; “And? What if I say yes? Will you kick me out of your book club?“

A small smile appeared on Viviannes lips; “No. But do you want some advice?“ “No.“, Katie answered quickly which made her team mate frown in confusion. But then Viv just shrugged and stepped in Katies place to wash her hands; “Alright.“ “I can do that without your help.“ “I know but maybe you should try to her hobbies seriously.“, Viv suggested casually.Katie gestured around herself; “I do. That’s why I’m here.“ “That’s cute for your standards.“, Viv smirked. “Shut up, Miedema.“

The smile on the dutch players face only grew bigger, knowing she hit a nerve; “Let’s go back to the others.“ “I thought you wanted to wash your hands for the rest of the night.“, Katie nodded in the direction of the sink. Vivianne turned off the water; “Only until you admitted why you’re really here. Thankfully I can read you like a book.“ “No, you can only read books like a book.“, the Irish woman answered. Vivianne ignored the joke with a shake of her head; “False.“ “No, I don’t have text all over me.“ “You’re such an idiot.“,Viv replied with a mixture of annoyance and fondness before following Katie out of the bathroom.

The striker glanced curiously at the teammates when she was sitting down:” What did we miss guys?” Kim sighed frustrated:” We started to talk about Jen’s love life instead of our recent read.” “We didn’t even finish Leah’s excuses on why she was too busy to finish the book.”, Beth teased the blonde teammate. “She’s really a busy girl.”, you hummed. Immediately Leah started to defend herself while pouting:”I am! It’s not my fault.”

Innocently Katie turned to you:” Maybe you should tell us how do you make time for reading while having a busy schedule aswell.” “Or we could keep talking about Jen’s dating dilemma.”, you proposed the idea with a wink in the direction, of the older Scottish woman. “Or we could finally start talking about the book”, Kim added already feeling her evening plan going of the rails tonight. Slowly you agreed:” Yes, that is an option too.” “Sounds boring.”, Katie mocked you two.

A big smile was on Beth’s lips as she nodded:“Honestly, especially because Jen’s dating stories are always so funny.” “I give up. Katie, can you give me some more of your wine`”, the captain groaned, hiding her face in her hands. Motivated the Irish woman stood up:“I’ll gladly do that!” “Thanks. Cheers to you all .”, Kim mumbled with a defeated smile. A wide grin was on Katie’s face: “Cheers, captain!”

“Tell us some of them, please.”, Meado begged. Smirking the Scottish defender reassured her:“Yes, don’t worry I’ll.” Jen loved to tell the stories, everyone in the team knew that and they loved her art of storytelling. Playfully she scolded Katie and Kim:” Shut up you two. We’re trying to have a conversation.” “Tell them about your date last week.”, the captain demanded. Happily Jen shook her head:“No, I might see her again.” “Wait, what?!”, Kim blurted out in surprise. The defender laughed because of her long time friend’s expression:“You heard me.” “Really?”

“That’s more interesting than the book, right`”, Katie leaned over to you with a cheeky grin. You rolled her eyes because of her comment: “Oh please.” “You can’t tell me, it’s not true.”, the Irish woman said. A small smile was on your lips while admitting:” Maybe I do enjoy a little bit of gossip here and there.” “I know you would.”, the midfielder triumphed. “You know that gossipy books exist too?”, you tried to remind her. “And what should they gossip about?” Confidently you told her:” I’m sure I could find a read for you which you could not be able to put down.”

“I’m sure you won’t be able to.“, Katie answered, shaking her head with conviction. You raised her eyebrows at her; “I disagree. We don’t live too far away from each other so maybe you can come with me after the book club ended and I can give you your book. The one that was just waiting for you all this time and you didn’t even know it.“ “Okay, fine. I’ll come with you.“, she answered faster than you expected. “Alright.“ Jen interrupted you two, calling for attention once again; “Guys, could you stop talking for a second. I’m here telling you my story.“

“Oh, you know, we were about to leave anyway.“, Katie grinned and drained the rest of her wine. You smiled apologetically at Jen; “Katie can’t wait to hold her book recommendation in her hands.“ “Pretty sure it’s not the book she wants to hold in her hands.“, Noelle mumbled with a yawn. “Oi, Noelle, we thought you were asleep!“, Beth yelled out in surprise. The Swiss defender grimaced; “That’s impossible with you all constantly talking.“ “That’s not true. You were sleeping at least in the beginning.“, Lia chimed in. The two Swiss players started discussing while Jen continued telling her dating stories and Kim rubbed the bridge of her nose in annoyance while you left with Katie.

To your surprise, your Irish team mate got a lot less annoying on your way back to your flat. You opened the door for the two of you and led Katie into the kitchen; “You can wait here and I’ll get you your next read.“ “Okay, I’ll wait.“ “Got it!“, you called from the living room when you finally found the perfect book and returned to the kitchen with it. Katie turned the book over in her hands; “Thanks.“ “You’re welcome.“, you smiled brightly. “So…“, Katie started as she carefully put the book down on the kitchen table. “Yes?“ “Now that we’re alone…“ The smile disappeared from your face but instead you gave your team mate a curious look; “Was Noelle right? That you’d like to…“ You couldn’t bring yourself to finish the sentence as Katie bridged the distance between you two. “I’d like to kiss you actually.“, she answered, more earnestly than she had been all evening.

With a challenging look you leaned forward; “Then what are you waiting for?“ “For you to give me the go.“, she explained, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Go on then.“ Without another word she pressed her lips on yours, kissing you passionately like it’s the only thing she wanted to do tonight.

When you woke up the next morning, you weren’t surprised to find Katie in your bed. You knew she stayed the night. What actually surprised you was the fact that she was reading in the book you gave her. “Wait. Am I still dreaming? Katie McCabe with a book in her hand?“ “It’s just for decoration. I’m trying to impress you.“, she replied fast but only reluctantly took her eyes off the page.

You smirked at that; “Yeah, it’s a pretty sight. But tell me is the model hungry?“ “Always.“, she laughed, so you got up, pulling an oversized shirt over your head and headed to the kitchen; “Breakfast will be ready soon.“ “I even get breakfast?“, the Irish midfielder asked in surprise. “Yes.“ “What a service.“, she teased.

You were just preparing the pancake better when you suddenly felt her strong arms around her waist; “I’m trying to cook here, McCabe.“ “Oh really?“, she laughed, her lips close to your ear. “Yes, or did you mean hungry in a different way?“, you asked. She replied by playfully biting the skin on your neck; “I meant it both ways.“

#katie mccabe #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #woso one shot #awfc #arsenal wfc

567 notes · View notes

weast-of-eden · 2 months

Text

I've been thinking about how I could contribute to the ACD/Granada Sherlock Holmes fandom for a while, seeing as I'm neither an artist, a writer, or anything actually useful lol. But then I realized something I myself always treasure are curated fic recs, which I could actually do! I've read probably like 25% of all the h/w ACD and Granada fics on ao3, so I compiled a short list for anyone who is just starting out with the fandom. Without further ado, may I present

Eden’s Top Picks for Beginning ACD/Granada Fics:

(edit: i made a second list here!!)

The Adventure of the Doctor's Heart by mistyzeo 12k | Rated E Summary: Holmes has observed much of Watson's habits and tastes over time, which is why it surprises him when his friend objects strangely to a folk song sung at the conclusion of a case. Disturbed by the Doctor's unexpected display of emotion, Holmes becomes determined to lift his spirits by any means necessary, with mixed results. Notes: obviously if you're going to read canonverse h/w, you are going to read mistyzeo. this one is just so good and angsty and features music (!!). it's got some steaminess but it also has wooing. basically it has everything you ever need. this is my odyssey, my iliad, my hamlet, etc.

Cameo by what_alchemy 8k | Rated M | For Archive Users Only Summary: Holmes and Watson become embroiled in a case Scotland Yard refuses to acknowledge. A soulmate AU. Notes: i honestly skipped over this fic for a while, since i'm not the biggest fan of soulmate aus. do not make the same mistake i did, because this shit HITS. this fic has hit after hit: soulmate-mark based case for our main duo, angst, hiatus feels, MORE ANGST, and ofc a happy ending. ugh. read this fic if you enjoy being happy.

A Tide That Does Not Turn by tweedisgood 3k | Rated T Summary: Holmes is a very bad patient with a devoted doctor who adores him. Watson wishes it was safe to speak up, but his friend is a tide that does not turn. Notes: do NOT read this if you don't like angst... ok now i'm sensing a pattern. anyways this is the first hurt/no comfort fic i read for this tag and i literally have cried more than enough tears over it. poor, poor watson :( iconic author though, read everything they write!

The Adventure of the Glad Outlaw by radondoran 7k | Rated T Summary: While Sherlock Holmes solves the mystery of a student's disappearance, Dr. Watson is more puzzled by the changing dynamic between his flatmate and himself. Notes: cute pastiche! a nice little mystery and a nice little get-together. ahhhhhh.... this fic is like cotton candy to me, so sweet and fluffy. defo recommend

Hands by MinorObsessions (draculard) 1.4k | Rated T Summary: Naturally, there are some things Watson thinks about Holmes that don't make it into the books. Notes: i'm also in the star trek fandom, so if you know anything about that then you know that hands are kind of A Thing in both circles and ergo i now Have A Thing about hands. so this is a nice little ode to holmes' hands, featuring some doctoring by watson AND a nice reverse appraisal at the end. it's so sweet :)

Conductor of Light by ColebaltBlue 1.4k | Rated T Summary: A Victorian stiff upper lip won't prevent you from falling in love, but it might prevent you from realizing it. Notes: they finally get their shit together! honestly i would recommend this fic to anyone just starting out with h/w fics in any medium. the characterization and dialogue is A1, and their argument is really realistic to me, idk. also features the iconic HOUN quote for its title so props to that!

A (Mis)fortunate Man by sans_patronymic 1.5k | Rated T Summary: December, 1880. Watson writes a note which may be his last. December, 1899. Watson writes back. Notes: READ THE TAGS BEFORE READING. this was a gut-wrenching read but god i cried at the end for watson. don't worry, this one has a happy ending. ugh now i wish there was a second chapter where watson lets holmes read the letters. to sum up: oof, my heart

The Second Smartest Man in London by FairSinner 73k | Rated E Summary: Dr John Watson returns from Afghanistan to Victorian London, wounded, traumatised and alone. When he meets Sherlock Holmes, his life begins to seem worth living again. But Holmes is a man who despises sentiment and Watson cannot seem to expunge it from his heart. Notes: congrats, you've made it to the end!! so now i must confess that it's been a loooong time since i've read this fic, but the private note i left on my bookmark was just "holy shit", so i'm sure it's a banger. i'm also sure it has angst because i love angst and i love bookmarking angst so i can read it again and again and suffer infinitely. enjoy :)

anyways, now that i've put these all here i realized how much i enjoy angst and hurt/no comfort fics. if any of you guys have a favorite fic you want to link or want to plug your own writing, feel free to!

#i hope this is coherent #or at least helpful to someone lol #sherlock holmes #acd holmes #granada holmes #granada johnlock #acd johnlock #fic rec #acd johnlock fic rec #granada johnlock fic rec

271 notes · View notes

beekeeperspicnic · 4 months

Text

One thing that keeps striking me while making this game is how often I have to go back on personal quibbles about Sherlock Holmes adaptations - I keep having moments of "...ok I can see why people do that so much."

I have always found the whole "brain attic" thing a little silly, and I find the fact that it's become an intrinsic element of the character a bit strange considering it's mostly just a bit of early-installment weirdness in Study in Scarlet.

But then as part of a game I wanted a screen where the player sorts information, and the idea of visualising the inside of Holmes' mind, and showing how it changes over time, was just far too good to pass up. So, brain attic.

Doyle implies that Watson joins up with his old regiment during WW1, but the idea of this beloved author going off to the front in his 60s never makes much sense to me and I know it is basically propaganda. My headcanon tends to be that Watson's war service would be in an unofficial capacity in England.

But I needed an instant way to signify to the player that Watson had been away, and he's had a tough time, and he needs rest and healing.

So, he shows up in an army uniform, and he has at least been to France (I imagined him in a hospital away from the Front).

Silly little thing that came up today reading His Last Bow is that Holmes in it has white hair. I love the idea of him with white hair in old age. It just didn't look good in the pixel art. So he has grey hair.

I think in adaptation you need to consider the strengths of the medium you're working with and the story you're telling rather than headcanons, but it still feels strange and frustrating sometimes.

#Writing #Adaptations #game dev thoughts #At least I didn't make him have a crush on Irene Adler #Who in Beekeepers Picnic Universe is Irene Norton and alive and well

324 notes · View notes

hypexion · 3 months

Text

The thing about Murders at Karlov Manor is that from a story perspective, it couldn't have been set anywhere but Ravnica. And it especially couldn't have been set on New Capenna.

The story of Murders is ultimately about the fallout of March of the Machine on both Ravnica as a city, and on Kaya personally. The motivations for the high-profile deaths that litter the set are tied directly to elements of the Phyrexian invasion. The manner of murder is specifically set up to overcome the barriers Ravnica as a setting provides to a murder mystery. And Kaya only gets involved because of her questionably defined but always present relationship with Teysa Karlov.

Ravnica also comes pre-built with a host of established characters, who conveniently all hate each other. This enabled readers to theorise about whodunnit, as each daily chapter provided more information and more intrigue. People considered all kinds of threads: Could Jace be involved? Might Azor be pulling the strings somehow? How does Judith plan to survive her crazy plan? Lazav?? By the time Proft said "I know who the killer is", you too could get it. (then for some reason they delayed the reveal chapter so they could reveal the killer in a spoiler stream. even when the story is good, the management is bad)

If you move the story out of Ravnica, the whole thing falls apart. You lose everything that makes it work. A new plane would be functional, but a lot less engaging. Fiora is about political scheming, even more so than Ravnica. And New Capenna...

New Capenna is not a particularly well constructed setting. It works as a sparse background for a Magic set, but when you start poking at it, it falls over. Like, one of the nicer ways to describe New Capenna is "discount Ravnica", because you are comparing it to one of the game's most successful settings. And that's what New Capenna is - a city controlled by a number of distinct factions, built out of specific colour combinations. But the New Capenna factions are not as good as the Ravnica ones (and the Obscura are literally just the Dimir). There is crime on New Capenna, but there is no authority against which that crime is committed, which makes things rather hollow. Ravnica, as strange as its laws are, has laws, along with people to enforce them. (note: I am aware of the Doylist reason why New Capenna has no police. Watson is still crying.)

Ravnica being well-developed allows it to function as a backdrop for a different idea. New Capenna's issues do the opposite. In fact, any return to New Capenna would need to reckon with how the setting got completely turned over by the return of the angels. You can't just say "well the crime has punishment now, onto the mystery". You have to actually engage with the big change, or you're just dragging New Capenna into a deeper hole.

conclusion: When the Magic story is good it's because the writer looked at the setting and characters they were given and used them together well. This is only possible if you have a setting and characters that can be used well. Ravnica has that, the crime plane does not.

#magic: the gathering #magic the gathering #mtg

331 notes · View notes

ladykailitha · 9 months

Text

Sun-kissed and Moon-glow

My fics have been fighting me this last week, so have some softness I've been thinking about the last couple of days. This came from that post that has been going around about x overhearing y say good things about them.

Eddie didn't mean to eavesdrop, his interview finished before Steve finished his. Eddie loved his model boyfriend. He was gorgeous and looked amazing on his own or on Eddie's arm.

He moved to sneak up on Steve to hug him from behind, but he stopped when he realized his interview wasn't over with.

"Are you familiar with the trope 'the grumpy one is in love with the sunshine one'?" the interviewer asked. She was a pretty thing with long bleach blonde hair, tan skin, and a slinky pink satin dress.

"Oh yeah, it's one of my favorite tropes," Steve agreed. "Morpheus and Hob, Mulder and Scully, Nico and Will, Watson and Holmes."

She smiled at him. "Would you say that it also describes you and your boyfriend Eddie Munson?"

Steve laughed. "I'm assuming you think he's the grumpy one and I'm the sunshine one?"

"Exactly!" she said with a laugh.

"The trope works," Steve agreed. "But not in the way you think. If it was purely aesthetic, I would be the sunshine one and Eddie would be grumpy one, no doubt. But based on our actual personalities? He is so the sunshine one."

"Aww..." she cooed. But it was clear even to Eddie that she was only saying that to placate Steve.

"No I mean it," Steve said, catching her tone. "I'm only glitter and glow. I take my light from other people. The clothes I wear, the way I style my hair, my modeling. I'm definitely the moon and the stars. But I look warm and my skin is tan because his love for me shines every day. I glow because he is my sun."

The interviewer's jaw dropped. "Wow."

"He is so good and so bright and so happy all the time," Steve continued. "He lights up whatever room he walks into. That's what makes him a good performer. He shines on stage. He looks like a creature of the night, because he's moon kissed. Because I love him, I'm the moon to his sun."

"Does that make you sun-kissed then?" the interviewer asked.

Steve laughed. "Yeah, I guess it does."

There was a tap on Steve's shoulder and he was being told to move on. He said goodbye to the interviewer and turned around, spotting Eddie.

"There you are, sunshine," he greeted warmly.

Eddie reached out his hand to Steve who took it with a fond smile. And as they walked down the red carpet, Eddie thought. Before tonight he would have agreed with the interviewer. He was the moon to Steve's sun. But hearing Steve's explanation, it made more sense.

It also gave him an idea for the band's next album. A double album called Sun-kissed and Moon-glow. Steve on the cover of Sun-kissed, bathed in the light of Eddie's love, his skin starting to glow yellow from the kiss Eddie is pressing to his shoulder.

Moon-glow would be the reverse. Eddie golden but bathed in Steve's moonlight, skin turning alabaster from Steve's kiss.

He looked over at Steve one more time. The boys were going to love the idea. Almost as much as he loved this man at his side.

Tagging this because it's long enough I think.

Permanent Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @renaissan-vvitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @a-little-unsteddie c@i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @redfreckledwolf @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst

#my writing #steddie #stranger things #ladykailtiha writes #rockstar eddie munson #model steve harrington

525 notes · View notes

green-typewriterz · 1 month

Note

i would love literally anything sam winchester related the lack of fics r astounding.. maybe something fluffy?? ive had a bad week would so cheer me up

Best fake-real husband

ASKS ARE OPEN

Sam Winchester x fem!reader

Summary: You and Sam go undercover in a small town to find out what's been happening to the disappearing couples.

ASK: above

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, awkward moments, mid season sam (in my mind it’s season 5 so its not following canon plot)

Author notes: Thankyou so much for the ask!!! I hope this is good :))) also Sam is the leader of the Sassy man army and if you don’t think so you can leave. Also thank you to @midsummeranderson for helping me plan <3

word count: 4110

You had always hated suburban houses, they just seemed empty, unforgiving. Though you didn’t have much of a choice. Bobby had a case and you two were to go undercover.

”Husband and wife…” Sam began, a glint in his eyes as he moved around the open plan kitchen, opening the windows to salve the heat that bit at their necks.

You smiled in reply, laying out weapons to move to the spare room. “Not awkward at all.” You replied and he laughed, shrugging his usual flannel onto a chair and digging into his bag.

Sam looked up, smiling, holding two rings in his hand. “Nope. I’m going to be the best fake-real husband ever. Dean thinks I can’t and I’m kinda determined to prove him wrong.” You sigh and shake your head, but there’s no annoyance behind it. Trust Dean to make a game out of it.

A piece of hair fell in front of his eyes - it’s so long now that it reaches his shoulders, princelike. “Well then I guess I’ll have to be a good wife.” He hummed in agreement and you tucked his hair back behind his ear and a smile spread across his face. “Looks like I’m off to a good start, Sam Heathcliff.”

You gently slipped the ring onto your finger, the metal slightly too big for you. It was your grandmothers, a mix of silver and sapphire. Sam places his dad’s wedding band on his own hand, fiddling with it gently. It made you smile softly, how the ring was cold against your skin - your grandmother had always wanted you to wear it.

A knock at the door pulled you out of your memories and the two of you looked to each other with confusion, Dean wasn’t meant to be here until later that evening. You opened the door cautiously, flitting into character when you saw a 57 year old woman holding a large pie in her hands.

She grinned cheerily, pushing the dish forward into your hands as she spoke, you didn’t really have another choice but to take it (you’d probably hand it off to Dean later.) “Hi,” the voice sounded fake, satirical. She never met your eyes, she was almost entirely focused on Sam. “I heard there was a new couple in town, thought I’d do the neighbourly thing and say hi.” She began, flicking her hair over her shoulder in a particularly suggestive manner. “We’d love to have you over this weekend, monthly barbeque.”

You looked at Sam, who looked entirely uncomfortable with the attention he was receiving and wrapped your arms around his waist. “We’d love to…” you waited for a name, the woman smiled with annoyance, as if she hated you speaking to her.

“Helen. Watson.”

The two of you introduced yourself and agreed to go, knowing the gathering would be useful to get information. With one last glance at Sam, Helen turned around and left, allowing you to breathe a sigh of relief.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

Dean came round that evening, constantly grinning and mocking and (as you had expected) he greeted the pie with open arms. “Look you two,” he began, as if he were an expert on the subject, “You’re practically a couple already, just… act like you’re in your honeymoon phase for the old women.”

He stated this as if it were an obvious fact and you raised your brows at his use of the word ‘honeymoon’. Sam looked away in annoyance (Something Dean found extremely funny). It seemed as though the younger Winchester couldn’t wait to get rid of Dean and so, as soon as he had finished his pie, he was forced out the door and back to the impala. There was a second sigh of relief when the door closed.

Though it had seemed like a smart idea at the time, the two of you were sorely regretting filling the spare room with hunting gear as it had left you with one bedroom. “I’ll take the couch,” Sam said as he gathered some clothes to sleep in, you stood in the doorway, arms folded as you shook your head.

“Not a chance, you’d barely fit on this bed imagine how uncomfortable you'd be downstairs.” You argued and he shook his head, trying to claim that he’d slept worse. Eventually, the two of you came to an agreement. Sam would sleep over the covers, you’d sleep under them (he always got hot at night anyway - especially during the summer).

You excused yourself to the bathroom and by the time you had gotten back Sam was already asleep, long hair falling gently over his eyes. You lay down beside him and got comfortable, though you forgot just how much Sam moved in his sleep. He seemed to subconsciously move closer to you, warm, tan skin flush against yours.

His face was inches from yours, holding a gentle smile as if he were happily dreaming (though that was something that didn’t happen often). You gently moved the hair from his eyes and he moved closer still, broad shoulders brushing against you. You fell asleep in the comfort of his warmth and awoke with his arms wrapped securely around you. He wasn’t awake yet, you always woke up before him.

You eventually found it in yourself to move from his grip and headed downstairs, intending to make breakfast for the two of you. He was downstairs a few moments later, hair a sweet, tousled mess on his head. You smiled sweetly but neither of you spoke - there wasn’t much need to.

The two of you seemed to move around each other as if you had been married for years as you got ready for the barbeque, passing each other what you needed wordlessly. Chalk it up to years of hunting together.

“Todays gonna be entertaining for me.” You stated, a smirk on your face. He tilted his head in confusion as if he were a dog and you smiled, eyes drifting to his shoulders for a moment. “C’mon Sam, it’s a town of 47 year old women who hate their husbands and you’re a - very awkward - 6 '4 man. A handsome one at that.” He blushed and turned away, continuing to get ready.

His hands fiddled with the jacket in front of him. “Yeah, so?” You smiled at him, opening the front door as you spoke again.

“So, it’s gonna be fun watching you squirm.” Your smile turned to a grin and Sam shook his head, following you out the door.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

You were right, as expected. Although most were fine, one specific group of women made an exaggerated effort to fan themselves, whispering to each other about Sam. They almost immediately ushered you over. You sent a look to your best friend and headed toward them.

Immediately, they began to gossip, asking you about how you and Sam met and you could barely get a word in edgeways. There were compliments thrown at you too, but you knew they were just to stop you ‘feeling jealous.’

“How did you get so lucky?” One woman, Helen, asked. Her voice was wrought with envy as she stared over at Sam. Part of you understood why they were staring, Sam looked strangely good in the traditional small town husband attire. His white polo had a few buttons undone and the fabric was tight on his arms (Dean had ordered the wrong size) and his long hair was held back from his head by a pair of sunglasses, a few stray pieces falling over his eyes. The only part you weren’t a fan of was the khaki shorts…but it seemed to be the dress code in the town so you brushed it off - you and Dean would probably make fun of him for it later. He felt his gaze on you and turned to meet your eyes, smiling softly and winking. The women around you giggled and you rolled your eyes, to which he laughed.

It turned out that talking to the four women was the best thing for the case, they absolutely adored gossip. “Couples have been going missing, it always starts with the husbands.” Margaret whispered excitedly, “It happened to the couple who were here before you, sweet things.” she continued, sipping on a glass of wine.

You tilted your head, something Sam recognised from a distance, you’d had an idea. “Do they leave anything behind? People can’t just disappear?” You asked, pulling your hand through your hair.

Helen shook her head. “The damn council barely clean out the houses.” You nodded. Bingo. If the house hadn’t been thoroughly cleaned, chances are there’d be evidence. Helen continued to ramble and you were listening intently, until a hand gently slid onto your waist.

You let out a gasp but the strong smell of cedarwood and amber calmed you down. You knew exactly who it was. His grip pulls tighter around you and you lean into him, head resting on his chest. You felt your face flush - something you were praying he didn’t notice.

“How did you two meet?” One woman asked and you looked at each other, making sure without ever even speaking that you had the story right.

Sam leaned his head on yours and sweetly said, “why don’t you take this one, honey.” his eyes sparkled with mischief, he was trying to throw you off and the hand that was massaging your side was proof of that.

You met his eyes with the same excitement, if he wanted to play, you were really going to go for it. “We both worked as government agents, met on the field. Hence all the scars.” The women nodded in realisation, looking at some of the injuries you hadn’t quite managed to hide. “He wasn’t the biggest fan of mine at first but I grew on him, isn’t that right darling?”

Sam nodded, his eyes not leaving yours as he replied, “and now I don’t want to be without her ever again.” He found that sentence to be more true than he thought.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

Sam sent an exasperated look your way as he raked a hand through his hair (and sadly took the glasses off his head). “How were the boys?” you asked with a smile and he turned to make sure no one was watching before dropping the facade.

“I’m actually shocked how much I don’t know about football.” He replied and you both laughed, him leaning into you as he smiled. He looked outside at the group of gossipping women before adding on, “they seemed…friendly.”

You laughed, “to you, sure, but I think it’s because they want you in their bed.” The sentence was blunt and Sam’s eyes widened, cheeks blushing a strong red. You, however, continued as if you had never said anything, “I think it could be witches? We’d have to search for hex bags though.” He nodded, not meeting your eyes (he was slightly flustered).

The two of you eventually said your goodbyes and made your way down the street, Sam looked annoyed with himself. “What’s up?”

He sighed, “this one guy, Glenn, roped me into holding a housewarming party…” You stared at him incredulously, did he not try to say no? Sam recognised the look in your eyes and defended himself, “the man was incredibly persuasive!” You shook your head but knew there was no way out of it. You weren’t the best at party planning.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

The long stretch of grocery store met you as you and Sam stood in the doorway. You didn’t often do this as hunters so it was a slightly daunting task. You looked at each other with tired eyes and went your separate ways, deciding to cover ground as if it were a hunt…just for nachos.

You rounded a corner only to see Helen stood there. Not wanting to be stuck in conversation again, you instantly turned on your heel, hiding behind a row of sauces. Though, something caught your eye. In Helen’s basket, clearly hidden just not very well, was a large amount of herbs and salt. What got you interested was the extreme amount of basil and sage.

Witches. Had to be.

Sam approached you, smiling gently. Something about the situation made him look so… domestic. You tried to motion to him what you were thinking but he seemed so fixated on you, his reaching out for yours. “Can you do your job?” you spoke, the words sounding harsher than you had intended. He instantly pulled back, face twisting with annoyance.

“What?”

“Take the hint, Sam. Behind me.”

You continued to whisper back and forth in annoyance, alerting Helen who watched in confusion. You quickly turned to look at her and sighed as she approached, hiding the herbs with the rest of her groceries. “Lovers quarrel?” she joked and the two of you laughed in the same way Bobby would when Dean told another of his bad jokes.

Sam made excuses as you looked at her, trying to see if you could spot any witch runes on her. It seemed as though she was trying to do the same to you. “Well isn’t that tattoo…neat!” She said, trying to hide the venom in her voice as she pointed out the anti-possession tattoo on your collarbone. Great.

You looked at Sam in annoyance and turned back to Helen. “Thanks! I saw it in a magazine!” You tried to explain away but you knew you’d been caught, she had spotted you and you her. Though she was very keen to stay in conversation, Sam made a quick excuse and you both left as soon as you could.

“Told you it was witches.”

Sam didn’t reply. The car journey back was completely silent, an unspoken annoyance building in the both of you. Neither of you said a word until the front door closed. “Nice job letting her see the tattoo.” Sam said annoyedly, turning to look at you.

You sighed and turned away, packing away the groceries. “Maybe if you spent less time flirting and more time actually hunting we’d be done by now! This isn’t exactly a hard case, we don't need more bodies to our name.” The reply was sharp and annoyed.

He suddenly grabbed your wrist so you’d look at him. “I’m doing my job just fine.” His eyes were locked with yours. You stepped closer.

“No, you’re not. You’re distracted.” Sam scoffed, his minty breath fanning against your cheek from how close you were. His hand was still firmly on your wrist.

An annoyed smile spread across his face and a muscle in his neck tensed. “Oh yeah? And why would I be distracted?” You stared directly at him, from his long hair that fell over his unreadable gaze to the smoothness of his bronzed skin.

You found yourself stepping closer again. “You tell me.”

There was a crushing silence, the only sound being your sharp breaths. Suddenly, Sam’s grip on your hand moved to your waist and he pulled you into him, his lips colliding with yours. You leaned into him, hands grabbing his hair harshly. He kissed you as if he were hungry, as if he had been waiting for years - maybe he had. He lifted you easily and sat you on the kitchen counter, leaning back from the kiss for a split second. His chest rose quickly in hot breaths as he kissed you again. You bit his bottom lip - letting blood drip as his hands gripped your skin.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

The party was loud and irritating, there wasn’t a moment where you had time for yourself, not one point where you weren’t ’y/n Heathcliff’. You and Sam had barely talked after the evening before - you didn’t know what to say.

You knew Helen would be at the party, not only would it be good to keep up appearances but she could get her next victim from it. Sam sent you a look and you nodded once, heading toward the spare bedroom in search of weapons, just in case.

A small, easily hidden knife was being placed into your waistband when Sam opened the door, closing it harshly behind him. “Sorry,” he said quietly, “had to get away from Miriam.”

You laughed gently and went back to preparing, not wanting to meet his eyes. “Helen’s here.”

“I know.”

Silence again. You sighed, “and you just left her out there? Alone?” His brows furrowed and he offered a witty remark, starting another hushed argument between the two of you.

On the other side of the door, Miriam and Margaret pressed their ears to the wood, giggling like school children at how the argument sounded to them. Through the muffled walls, all they could hear was gasps and sharp noises - of course they assumed what they wanted.

Sam’s hands pushed through his hair as he sighed, uncertain of what to do, when suddenly the door started opening. He rushed forward and pushed against it, rushing out a quick, “one moment!” All he heard in reply was laughs.

“What do we do?” He asked nervously and you stood still, nervous, until a thought popped into your head. You held your hands out - asking for permission and, once he nodded, you placed your hands gently in his soft hair, ruffling it. It annoyed you how he still managed to look good.

Then, once he had done the same for you, you looked him up and down, deciding his outfit was far too…tidy. First it was one button undone, then another (you unbuttoned a third for personal reasons). A blush rose on the tips of his ears.

He went to open the door when you realised something was still missing and, in a quick moment of panic, you rushed forward and grabbed his face, kissing him harshly on the lips (you were purposely trying to smudge your lipstick onto him). Sam made a noise in shock but found himself leaning into it, eyes lingering closed for a moment longer after you had pulled away.

Shit. He thought. He definitely liked you.

Eventually, the door was opened and Sam met the two women with an awkward smile. “Oh!’ Margaret began, giggling, “I was going to offer a drink, but I see you’re occupied…” The woman looked at one another, laughed again and walked away, leaving Sam blushing with embarrassment. The door was closed once more and when you were both sure they had walked away, laughter spilt into the room.

He shook his head and smiled, stepping closer to you. “Close one.” You smiled gently, staring into his eyes (the light was hitting them perfectly). There was silence again - neither of you knew what to do.

”Are we ever going to talk about last night?” You asked, thinking about how his hands felt on your skin. His features turned more serious as he sat down on the bed.

He stared at you, lipstick still in a smudge on his face. “I’m not sure what to say about it.” You neared him, hands trailing over his shoulders. Then, slowly, you leaned into him, lifting his chin with your finger as you felt his soft lips against yours. There was something impossibly gentle about it and you weren’t sure anyone had kissed you that softly before.

”Maybe we don’t need to say anything.”

He smiled. You kissed the corner of his grin and headed back downstairs, attempting to fix your hair as you went. You were met with stares as you entered the kitchen - Miriam had most definitely told everyone… at least it sold the cover.

Time passed with an almost excruciating level of slowness and Sam not making a re-entrance back downstairs wasn’t helping either (you had no one to distract you). Eventually, the party cleared out yet Sam was nowhere to be seen - now you began to panic.

You said goodbye to the final few neighbours and headed back upstairs, calling Sam’s name. The lack of response worried you. The first door by the stairs - the one that unfortunately led to your weapons room - was ajar, scratches around the lock. You pulled the dagger from your waistband and slowly opened the door, sighing as you saw the bloodstain on the floor. You had a feeling you knew who had taken him and where he had gone.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

You had managed to track him to Helen’s house, hiding around the back to get a good view through the sliding glass doors. Sat, tied to a chair in the middle of the main room, was Sam. His face was bruised and bloody and his expression looked annoyed, chest heaving with sharp breaths. Helen, Miriam and Margaret circled around him, playing with his hair and gathering items they needed for the spell.

”Poor Sam,” Helen began - you assumed she was the leader, “you’d think you’d be able to fight back against three 57 year olds.” Miriam headed into the kitchen as Margaret laughed, they almost reminded you of the witches from Macbeth.

”You’d also think, considering she’s a hunter, that your ‘wife’ would be better at hiding.” Suddenly, a surprisingly strong pair of hands grabbed you, pushing you against the wall.

You struggled against the grip but it was no use, your hands being painfully tied behind your back. Miriam ushered you into the living room, retiring you to a chair beside Sam. You met his eyes with an apologetic gaze and he returned it.

It was your turn to feel the bunt of the witches’ fun now, knives sliced at your skin and hair was cut from your head, you knew they’d done it somewhere visible on purpose. They grabbed at your face, nails digging into flesh and smiling as Sam protested.

Eventually, the three left the room and you and Sam began planning. You shuffled your chair toward him, trying to see if he could reach the dagger you always hid in your shoe. His hand brushed over your shin but he couldn’t reach any further.

With one final attempt, Sam tried to lean on the chair to reach, which ended with him toppling both chairs. He landed on top of you, his chest flush against yours. “Sorry.” He spoke, words hoarse from lack of breath.

Luckily for you, the fall had broken the ropes around your ankles and - though it hurt like hell - you manoeuvred your leg just enough to read the blade. Sam's hair tickled against your face and his lips tickled your neck - but that was something you’d have to think about later.

“Nice try you two.” Helen spoke as she waltzed back in. You hid the blade in your sleeve as your chair was fixed once more and while the three were busy working, you managed to slice through the ropes. you waited patiently, watching with a newfound confidence. Luckily for you, Maragaret was the type of witch to intimidate - her favourite tactic being getting as close as she could.

You took the opportunity and thrust the blade forward, stabbing through her throat. She screamed out and you stood up making your way over to the other two to fight. You took a fair few punches, but it was nothing new and soon enough the two others were on the floor too, holding onto the last of their life.

The large salt circle was immediately broken and Sam was freed, you apolising every time you accidentally touched any of his injuries. “That was badass.” Sam complimented and you laughed, leaning your hair back tiredly.

You turned away, starting to destroy the spell further as you spoke, “Ready to finally stop being husband and wife?” You asked and a small smirk rose on his face, hands snaking back over your waist again.

With sudden passion, he spun you back around, his eyes glinting. “Not really.”

With that, Sam lifted you off the ground, hands securely gripping your thighs as he kissed your neck. You had your back pushed against the wall as he moved to kiss your lips, your hands pulling at the back of his hair. He sighed and went to kiss you again when the front door swung open, revealing a disgusted (but slightly relieved) Bobby and a grinning Dean.

”We can explain?” Sam offered, gently lowering you back to the ground. You couldn’t look at one another.

Dean shook his head, smiling like a madman. “I don’t know Sammy, seems pretty obvious to me.” Then, with the same giddy happiness he turned to Bobby, who had since fished a ten dollar bill out of his pocket.

Typical. You and Sam shared an annoyed look as The other two hunters headed back out the door. ‘“C’mon you lovebirds,” Bobby began, “There’s a vamp nest in Chicago.”

#fic #fanfic #one shot #writing #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester #fluff #Injury #witches #supernatural #supernatural fic #Sam Winchester the sass queen #sam winchester x fem!reader

204 notes · View notes

i-am-trying-my-best-okay · 1 year

Text

Literally all of The Shadowhunter Chronicle romances are completely unhinged it’s not even funny (I lied, it’s very funny). Here’s just some examples:

William “Will” Herondale/James “Jem” Carstairs + Theresa “Tessa” Gray: It totally would have been a vee type polyamorous situation if it wasn’t for all the death and 1800s London society going on.

Henry Branwell + Charlotte Fairchild: How dare this misogynistic society put us together, I mean, we wanted to get together anyway, but not for those reasons. Welp, time to be as unconventional as possible.

Gabriel Lightwood + Cecily Herondale: Look, you made fun of my sister, it’s only fair that I marry your sister; that’s the rules.

Gideon Lightwood + Sophia “Sophie” Collins: Dad, I have a perfectly valid reason to betray you and go to the other side. What your doing is wrong and – nO tHiS haS nOThiNG to do wiTh tHeIR mAid wHy wOUlD yoU eVEn sAy tHat?

Jesse Blackthorn + Lucie Herondale: Your request to not be brought back to life has been denied, deal with it.

James “Jamie” Herondale + Cordelia Carstairs: He didn’t commit arson we were just having sex – why are you all looking at me like that’s worse?

Anna Lightwood + Ariadne Bridgestock: Listen, there’s a lot of society going on right now, so we’re going to have to get together in secret. Oh, you don’t want to? Okay, never mind, fuck society, let me win you back real quick.

Christopher Lightwood + Grace Cartwright: Oh good, you broke into my house, now we can talk about science.

Thomas Lightwood + Alastair Carstairs: I’d really like to hate you, but I think the biggest problem with that is that I love you. Once I get over that hurdle, I think we’ll be in the clear.

Lucian “Luke” Graymark + Jocelyn Fairchild: Good job on us for breaking away from the genocidal cult run by our best friend/husband; we should hook up, you know, as a reward.

Jonathan “Jace” Herondale + Clarissa “Clary” Fairchild: Ayo the same guy conducted experiments on our blood, that’s crazy; btw so glad we’re not actually siblings.

Alexander “Alec” Lightwood + Magnus Bane: Marrying each other is against the law? Okay, fine, I’m a law biding citizen. Oh oops, I made it legal. I am the law now, and I want a wedding on the beach.

Simon Lovelace + Isabelle Lightwood: It makes sense to have our engagement party on the day of my brother’s death, that’s when we really started bonding.

Helen “Alessa” Blackthorn + Aline Penhallow: Well, I guess we’re going to go in exile together. Yes, I said together; your exile is my exile, what’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine, that’s how relationships work.

Julian Blackthorn + Emma Carstairs: Yes, it’s a technical war crime to love each other, but the law itself is not really our main concern about it.

Kieran Hunter + Mark “Miach” Blackthorn + Cristina Rosales: We’re really living that cottage core aesthetic, and all we had to do to get here was do a small war and some amnesia. Worth it.

Gwyn ap Nudd + Diana Wrayburn: I’m going to stand by just in case something happens, but it probably won’t, she knows what she’s doing – WHY IS SHE JUMPING OUT THE TENTH STORY WINDOW OH MY GOD WAIT

Tiberius “Ty” Blackthorn + Christopher “Kit” Herondale: We take cosplaying Sherlock and Watson VERY seriously, so of course we needed to go to all the most illegal places, it’s only natural.

Ash Morgenstern + Drusilla “Dru” Blackthorn: So anyway I saw them in a sort of fever dream like state this one time and they’ve still been on my mind for years.

3K notes · View notes

vavandeveresfan · 4 months

Text

Jenny Watson: "We can do it, so let's do it." Jenny outlines her plan for a female-only, lesbian space.

For my lesbian, bisexual women, and radfem Followers. Via Graham Linehan's Substack.

For many decades, London was considered the global capital for lesbian nightlife. But you’d never know it if you visited the UK today. It’s not for a lack of British lesbian culture: I’m a lesbian, I’m involved in our country’s lesbian social scene, and I can assure you, it’s alive and well. What we lack at the moment are our own dedicated spaces. I think the UK needs once more to have lesbian-run, female-only community spaces.

I’ve got an idea about how to make one such space a reality. And I believe I'm in a position to make it happen.

Over the past seven years, I've had the privilege of organising a range of lesbian social events in London. Throughout this time, I've made many connections in our community, gained an increasing understanding of our needs, and created social spaces that I hope go some way to meeting them.

And in those seven years working to coordinate part of the the UK’s lesbian social scene, I’ve come to see how badly we need a dedicated, strictly female-only event space — now more than ever.

Men have been encroaching on the lesbian community, and the problem is only getting worse. There’s been a sense of inevitability, that this is just something we have to learn to live with.

But I’ve had it.

In June, I skipped London’s official Pride festivities and instead visited an alternative, independent event at the Hampstead Ponds. It was a female-only picnic. Hundreds of women of all ages were gathered, from their teens to their eighties. And the sublime joy that I felt that day led me to a eureka moment:

We need this. We deserve this. This is our right. As lesbians and bisexual women, we have a right to social spaces that are entirely our own.

So, earlier this year, I decided to implement a women-only policy at my events. Although this sparked controversy, we ultimately received recognition from the UK’s largest pub operator that it is legitimate to hold women-only lesbian events - a real victory!

And then it suddenly dawned on me: we need more and not only do we need this, I can do this. I feel I have a good sense of the UK market for lesbian social events. So I crunched some numbers and developed a business proposal. I gauged interest and studied feasibility. And I’m excited to tell you: I believe this can work.

My plan involves establishing a private members’ club and securing a prime physical space in London. By day, this space will operate as a versatile hybrid workspace, becoming a venue hosting various social events in the evenings and weekends. Alongside these, we'll provide online events, and collaborate with service providers for health and wellness advice, fitness guidance, group trips, and more. Revenue will come from the events, partnerships, as well as from membership dues.

To the lesbian and bisexual women reading this: you’re welcome to get in touch with me if you’d like to learn more. There's an opportunity to invest if you’re interested, too. I’ve got a pitch deck I would be happy to show you and a fully fleshed-out, 50-page business plan. And I’m happy to report that there are already investors who have given the thumbs up.

Following my announcement and inspired by the community's heartwarming response, I decided to introduce an early-bird membership programme. This includes a personalised QR-coded membership card for exclusive updates and access to a members’ discussion space. Joining early also signifies your part in accelerating our community's launch.

Which brings me to another issue, and it’s a big part of the reason I’m writing this now: online critics. There’s a small but vocal group of people online who’ve been saying some pretty nasty and completely unfounded things about me. This group of people have taken to personal insults, and accusations that I’m a fraudster and a grifter.

I’m not entirely surprised to encounter pushback, but at the same time, the level of vitriol has been eye-opening.

But I try to put it in a bigger context: Lesbians have faced so much abuse, and for so long we’ve had to settle for having social spaces conditionally, on terms set by men. There’s a climate of distrust and fear looming over the lesbian community as a result. So much so that today the idea of even having one single space fully dedicated to lesbian and bisexual women seems so radical, some people’s initial reaction is that there’s got to be a catch.

I completely understand that a good dose of scrutiny, of tempering optimism with some degree of caution, is reasonable. It’s healthy. And it’s entirely welcome.

But personal insults and unfounded accusations are not. I know that emotions are running high, and we as a community are feeling beleaguered right now. But that’s no excuse to target my Irishness in personal attacks, for example. Or to target my business supporters with lies about me.

I'm not here to push or persuade anyone who doesn't feel the spark for this project. However, for those who do, our project investors' safety and security are crucial — capital funds are securely placed in escrow and I've teamed up with a business consultant who's right here supporting us until opening day. We’ve put together a solid business plan.

If anything, the tenor of some of the criticism I’ve faced only hardens my resolve: it just highlights how badly women need a space to unite us, to heal us in this difficult time.

It’s been upsetting to endure the smear campaign that a small online group has thrown at me… but my mind keeps going back to that Edenic afternoon at the Hampstead Ponds, where hundreds of women were gathered in serenity and harmony.

This will heal us. This will unite us. And it will make us all stronger. Lesbian strength comes through unity.

There are various ways you can help, but the most crucial one is spreading the word - our message is the most important part of this project.

Other than that, as I mentioned earlier, if you are a lesbian/bi woman, there is the option to join as an early-bird member (however, this is not compulsory; you can wait until our opening). Additionally, there's the opportunity for investment or donation. I've prepared a comprehensive 50-page business plan and pitch deck available for those who are interested.

For a deeper understanding of the project, feel free to visit our website or you can email me at [email protected]

Any form of support you can offer is immensely appreciated as we work towards making this a reality.

We can do this. So let’s do it!

#lesbians #women's spaces #lesbian spaces #Jenny Watson #Graham Linehan #Substack #bisexual women #UK #London

383 notes · View notes

amypihcs · 5 months

Text

Hello Granada fans! I was just re-re-rewatching Copper Beeches (lost the count of how many times i watched it) when i noticed that the drawing of the house which appears during Watson's ending narration

Superimposing the shot of the house then appears on Watson desk.

As he is reading the draft of the story to Holmes from his notebook. The drawing also looks to me like an ink drawing made with a pen. Since Watson is reading Holmes the story from the notebook and not from the Strand, it means the story hasn't been published yet.

In conclusion, what if this means that in the Granada Holmes universe Watson draws some if not most of the illustrations himself? We know that he's a doctor, doctors study anatomy (aggraziearcazzo, yes, i'm telling it to myself so you won't have to do it) and studying anatomy also means drawing anatomical sketches! I would bet good money that Watson knows how to draw quite well and that drawing on his desk seems to me the proof that he's the one drawing many of our illustrations!

#Granada holmes #Granada Holmes meta #very blurry david burke #still bright fluffy doc #Watson makes the drawings himself #john h watson #dr watson

213 notes · View notes

voilaammayi · 3 months

Text

okay okay wait a second

victor trevor interrupting stranger’s conversation just because he heard the name sherlock holmes in it? asking if he has been mentioning him? being the only friend sherlock had in college? remembering that the one kind of pasta he eats is penne and having his own predictions about who sherlock’d be in the future? asking right away if he’d been right? thinking that sherlock of all people was a great laugh? and have I heard being in between boyfriends???

finally, speaking about sherlock with this warm nostalgic tone and always with a bashful laugh hidden behind it? oh my, mister victor trevor, you were in love!

and don’t mind me at all, but I’m having a certain vision - of sherlock and victor in college, victor coming late to their dorm after long evening studying in the library or a night out with friends in a pub, and finding sherlock transfixed on some experiment, of course having gone a whole day without a proper meal. victor complaining loudly about you and your fucked up diet, honestly, sherlock, but at the same time getting ready to go make sherlock some pasta for a late night diner. because did you know this penne with mascarpone and tomato sauce that is the only pasta sherlock eats, is originally a victor’s recipe? and after it’s done, them both sitting on a couch, sherlock eating from a pot - they’re students after all, the dishes are in a big dirty pile in the sink - while victor watches him out of the corner of his eye. then the rest of the evening spend on Sherlock talking about his experiment, some interesting plant or a new deduction, while victor just listens to him with a dreamy expression on his face, because that’s what he has been waiting the whole day for.

and I won’t speculate whether sherlock was in love, too, because the man is a mystery to me, but I do imagine victor calling him after the events of gloria scott, asking if he can come by to baker street to thank properly for solving the case. after sherlock agrees - but invites him over when he knows nor john neither mariana would be home - victor arrives with a shoping bag in hand and, in spite of some attempts at protest close to it’s not necessary, he prepares the penne pasta for sherlock one last time. then all is done and there’s no excuse for him to stay longer, really, so he stands up to say goodbye. quick enough for sherlock to not be able to do anything about it, victor kisses him on the cheek. but he had been watching sherlock during the case and heard enough my dear watson to know that he has lost his chance. so he says simply good luck, sherlock and walks out of baker street.

john would come back to the flat few moments later to find sherlock standing in a doorway, hands holding his cheeks. sherlock being even weirder than usual, john would get worried and trying to pry any information from him, even checking his temperature by a quick touch to the forehead. but as sherlock doesn’t comply, in the end john would just shrug his shoulders and leave him alone, only to become perplexed seconds later, when he enters the kitchen.

because there are leftovers of penne with mascarpone and tomato sauce already on the countertop, while john himself was just about to cook them this same thing for dinner.

#sherlock and co #john would be like at least the kitchen isn’t on fire #sherlock would be thinking intensely and quite unable to stop touching his cheek #victor would be smiling to himself on his way home knowing there’re now more people caring about sherlock #excuse me while I’ll go realease my feelings in a cathartic scream #john watson #sherlock #sherlock holmes #goalhanger #goalhanger podcasts #johnlock #sherlock & co #sherlock and co spoilers #sherlock & co spoilers #the gloria scott spoilers #the gloria scott pt1 spoilers #viclock

184 notes · View notes

the-soliloquies-of-sadists · 8 months

Text

#373

“What the fuck is this I’m hearing about you? My buddy Deputy Watson asked me why I have a faggot working for me? He tells me that you have a record for sex in public bathrooms. Is it true?

“Of course it is! I can see it on your face. Have the common decency of at least admitting it…. Jesus fuck! You know when I hired you, I told you I didn’t want any drama. And now I have to deal with this. I can’t be thought of a sperm burper. With my wife filing for divorce and living across the state at her sisters, people will start to think nasty shit about me once they find out that I have a fag working for me.

“You were recommended to us because you are a hard worker; you keep your head down. You don’t drink and you don’t cavort around in town. Now I know why.

“Watson was telling me that you were caught once before at a rest stop in South Dakota getting cornholed. He also said that the charges were dropped. Lucky you. So you must like sucking on random dick at some nasty assed bathroom. What the fuck is the draw?

“Nothing to say?... I want an answer….

“…You like to blow straight men? Why would a straight man want to get blown by some fag when he can get it at home?...

“…Watch your mouth! The last time I got a blowjob has no bearing on this conversation. You know damned well that Louise and I are going through a divorce. I haven’t had anything in a long… Wait a minute, are you looking to give me head?

“…Back to being silent…?

“Uh…

“Awww, fuck it…. I could go for some head. You want it?... No one will ever know that this happened, you got that? Good. Then get on your fucking knees.

“I got a lot of skin…. God damn! You are eager! My wife makes me get hard first before I… Oh fuck! Oh man.

“Fuck! Watch your goddamned teeth!... I will knock them out. Trust me I will. My dick may not be long, but it gets really fat. Those teeth better know their place.

“Damn, not many women could deep throat me. Fuck I will be using this mouth again.

“Fuck! What did I tell you about your teeth?

“Fuck you faggot! You want me to hit you again, keep up with the teeth. You hurt me, then I hurt you. What do you have to say?... Hunh?...

“Damn right you’re sorry. Look up at me. Open your mouth. Let me feel your teeth…. Holy shit! That’s some jagged teeth you have there.

“I want you to make an appointment with your dentist. I want him to grind them smooth. You got that? I pay for your dental, let me benefit from that. And make that appointment as soon as possible.

“Look at me…. That slap means I’m serious about this. Now get the fuck up. You take men up your shitter? Of course, you do. Get out of those Levi’s.

“A fucking jock strap? You are such a fag. Leave it on. I’m not interested in what you have in front.

“It’s been years since I fucked an ass. Most of the time it was to put a bitch into place. You’ll be the first faggot, but it will be for the same damned reason.

“Spread your legs further. Damn. That’s a pale ass. Hold still…. Oooh. You have been fucked before. I can’t remember when my head went in so easy. So I guess I don’t have to wait for you to adjust to me.

“Right to the root! Fuck your pussy is treating my cock so well. Aw, shut up. I don’t want to hear any goddamned complaints from you. If you wanted more lube, you should have put more spit on my dick. Next time think to do that.

“Now shut the fuck up. I’m in the middle of fucking here….

“Your cunt knows how to take a pounding. I like that. I like that a lot…. Do that again. Fuck, this is one talented cunt. And it’s right here every day. Yeah. This cunt is going to be used going forward.

“Fuck yeah. I’m taking ownership of this cunt. It’s mine. You got that?...

“Answer me motherfucker. Who’s cunt is this?

“Damned right. You will give up other men. It’s mine. You understand faggot?

“…You better.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum. Get ready. You gonna get flooded with a huge load. Here it cums. Here it goddamned cums! Urg! Urg! Fuuuck. Shit!

“Don’t fucking move. Stay put. Clamp down.

“Dammit faggot. No wonder so many men use you like this. Not anymore. I wasn’t kidding when I said you are to give up other men. That cunt is mine. I don’t want any other man touching my property. You got that faggot?... You say, ‘Yes Sir!’

“That’s better. You understand that I will be fucking it after we get done work every day?

“I’m one horny son of a bitch, a controlling one at that. That’s why my wife is filing for a divorce. You are going to be taking over her duties of taking my nut. Let’s go up to the house so you can fix me some dinner.

“No leave those Levi’s there. You don’t deserve to wear pants. The jock is all you need. As I said before, I’m not interested in what you have up front. In fact, it shouldn’t be any of your concern either.

“Now get up to the house…. Goddamn, that’s a nice ass. I don’t know if I will be able to make it through dinner without plowing that cunt and unloading a second time. My dick can go all night, especially a cunt that treats my dick well. That cunt will be so full by the end of the night. Now get moving.”

305 notes · View notes