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#like sherlock and watson but if they were both sherlock
raina-at · 2 days
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Open
“Open up.”
Rather predictably, unfortunately, Sherlock gets no response.
Sherlock rubs an exasperated hand through his hair. “Listen,” he says, calmly, reasonably, trying his utmost to keep his frustration out of his voice. “We both know how this is going to end. In the end, you will cooperate. All you are doing right now is prolonging the time we both have to spend on this. So open. Up.”
Blue eyes glare at him with a stubborn recalcitrance he is unfortunately very familiar with.
“Watson. This is irrational. You have to eat. You want to eat. You like carrots. So do it please.”
“I have to ask, does that ever work?” John asks, leaning in the kitchen door. He looks rumpled and tousled from an involuntary nap on the sofa. His feet are bare and he looks domestic and relaxed and at home.
Sherlock deliberately refocuses on a still unfed Watson, unsure whether any of the fierce gladness he feels whenever he sees John be at home in Baker Street again is showing on his face.
“Watson is not an animal, John, she has capacity for rational thought.”
John says nothing, he just moves into the kitchen and drops a casual yet affectionate hand on Sherlock’s shoulder in passing. “Tea?”
“Obviously,” Sherlock answers, then refocuses on the younger Watson, both to get her fed, and because he needs to hide how shivery it makes him when John touches him so casually, yet so wonderfully. It’s been happening with increased frequency since John and Rosie moved in with him after Mary scarpered off to parts unknown, hopefully never to return.
Watson is chewing on her play spoon, watching him warily. “Ba,” she says. “Ga.”
“Eating is mandatory, unfortunately,” Sherlock says, taking up the spoon with the carrot mush again. “Believe me, I wish it wasn’t. If it were up to me, we would live on thought alone, but since the vessels our brains are unfortunately trapped in need sustenance…” He trails off, holding the spoon out to her.
Watson looks at the spoon, then grabs it with both hands and stuffs it into her mouth.
“Well done, Watson,” Sherlock says with a smug smile that melts off his face when she removes the spoon from her mouth again and with devastating precision flicks the carrot sauce right into his face.
“This isn’t funny,” Sherlock grumbles as he hears John snicker behind him, but he knows his voice lacks bite, because he’s smiling himself. He nods at Rosie. “Well played, Watson. Well played.” He turns to John. “And you can stop laughing now.”
John moves around the table towards him with a clean kitchen towel, obviously contrite, but still smiling. “She has good aim,” he observes quietly.
“She’s a Watson, I would expect no less.” 
Sherlock puts out his hand for the kitchen towel, but John surprises him again—how does he always surprise me?—by stepping up to his chair and gently cleaning the carrot mush off Sherlock’s face.
Sherlock can’t suppress a shiver. John is so close, his hands are so warm, his eyes are so—
Sherlock swallows. They’re suddenly very close.
“Sorry for laughing,” John whispers. 
“It was objectively funny,” Sherlock says, aware that he sounds as shivery as he feels. 
“It was, wasn’t it?” John’s voice is warm and low and close, his tone is affectionate, his eyes—
Kiss me, Sherlock thinks. Put me out of my misery and kiss me already. Or never look at me this way again.
For a few moments, they’re trapped in limbo, John’s hands on Sherlock’s shoulders, Sherlock grabbing at John’s elbow to prevent him from moving away. John is watching him, waiting. Sherlock suddenly realises that there’s a slight tilt of a challenging smile to John’s lips, but also an obvious hesitation.
If you want your kiss, Sherlock Holmes, you will have to come and get it.
Sherlock surges up and takes the unspoken invitation by pressing his lips to John’s.
John hesitates for a split second, but then he kisses back, winding his hands into Sherlock’s hair and pulling him in for a serious sort of kiss, one that sparks through Sherlock’s body with a tingling warmth, making him feel alive down to his toes.
It’s heavenly. It’s also far too short, because Watson, masterful in her timing as always, starts wailing, hitting John with her play spoon. 
They break apart and both start laughing. John turns a bit to his daughter and whispers, “You’re the worst wingman ever.”
Sherlock giggles, nerves and happiness and tension releasing between them in spurts of hilarity. “I think Watson is hungry after all.”
John rolls his eyes mockingly at Sherlock. “All these bodily needs, right?” he asks, a teasing smile playing over his lips.
Sherlock grabs John’s hand and presses his lips to John’s palm. “I may have underestimated the appeal of bodily needs.”
John’s eyes go dark and he visibly shivers. “Later?” he asks, his voice husky and barely there.
Sherlock smiles, feeling nervous anticipation spark over his body, but also a bone-deep certainty that this is right, and true, and wonderful. “Later.”
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Thank you so much @calaisreno for doing the May challenges this year. I'm not sure whether I can manage al 31 days this year, but I'll try. This was great fun last year, so thank you so much for doing it again this year.
Tagging a few people who might want to join. As always, please let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged.
@jrow @keirgreeneyes @helloliriels @lisbeth-kk @catlock-holmes @meetinginsamarra @discordantwords @totallysilvergirl
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sandcobangevent · 3 days
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Unlucky
by @high-functioning-otter and @holmosexualitea Read the fic over on AO3!
Bing. Text notification. About the 10th in the last half an hour. John didn’t count deliberately. Actually, he was trying to focus on answering emails and editing a new episode for the podcast but he struggled a lot with concentrating today. That’s why Mariana had offered to go for a walk with Archie for him and also dragged Sherlock along so he could really work in peace for once.
He glanced over at the phone screen lighting up again after another message came in. From where he was sitting, he could only see who these messages sent and not the content of them. Nevertheless, he nearly fell off his chair when his brain registered who the sender was: Carol Watson. Now every last bit of concentration was definitely completely gone. This was Mariana’s phone, she forgot it. But what? Why was Mariana texting his mother? And what about? And since when? And why???
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After yet another text notification sound disrupted the silence of the living room, John couldn’t contain himself anymore. He knew that it was wrong to snoop through other people’s phones – especially if these people are your friends. He knew he shouldn't, but he simply couldn't help himself. He picked up the phone and read the text from the lockscreen.
“What is this?” John held up Mariana’s phone right into her face. It had felt like an eternity since his two housemates left and now that they were back he didn't know what to feel. The past hour he went through all sorts of emotions. From confusion to betrayal to anger to more confusion and then more anger.
“This is my phone. I left it at home. Thank you, John.” Mariana replied confused and she reached out for the phone but John quickly pulled his hand back.
“No, I know what this is. I meant the messages. Why are you texting my mom?” Mariana’s eyes widened a bit. Unsure she glanced over at Sherlock. She didn't know how to respond, if she should tell the truth or resort to a lie. “The question rather is: why are you reading Mrs Hudson’s text messages?” the detective answered for her.
“No no, that’s not...” John cleared his throat awkwardly but then hurriedly continued talking. “Anyway, you know, I can understand when my mother refuses to tell me about this but… you? I-I mean… yes. Isn’t this super weird? And wow okay I never expected my mom to not be straight or that she would go for someone so much younger… or that you would…”
“Get to the point, Watson!” Sherlock finally interrupted the rambling.
“Why are you dating my mother?!” Suddenly the room was dead silent, the three just stared at each other in confusion before both Mariana and Sherlock busted out into laughter. “What? Where did you get that idea?” Mariana asked while she was trying to calm down again.
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“Here.” The doctor held up the phone once more and showed the messages to her. She read them and then nodded. “Yeah, okay I can see where you’re coming from. But I can assure you, it’s not what it looks like!” That was exactly the sentence everyone used after they’ve been caught red-handed, when it's exactly what it looks like. Mariana looked over at Sherlock, almost as if she was asking for his permission to speak. Finally, he shrugged and answered for her: “We’re assisting her on a case. Now, she didn’t want us to tell you but seems like nothing gets past you. Well done, Watson, you do make a great detective.”
“A case? What kind of case- Hold on. Why didn’t she want you to tell me? What’s going on?” This was worse. Way worse than just a hidden relationship or anything of the sort. All this time his two friends had secretly worked on a case together, right behind his back. But that also explained a lot.
“She doesn’t want us to tell you.” Mariana replied with a nearly guilty expression on her face. John just couldn’t understand this. What was it that he couldn’t know about? But it was no use. He wouldn’t get an answer to this question, at least not on this day. Both of his housemates were very keen on keeping the secret a secret and no matter how often he asked none of them answered it. Eventually, it was too much for him.
“Right, that’s it, I’m going out. To the pub, in case you’re-… no actually, don’t. Don’t follow or search for me.” And with that John left the house in a hurry. He quickly got into the nearest tube station and took the next train that would take him away from 221b Bakerstreet.
The now podcaster found himself in the exact spot he was in a few months ago. This was not The Volunteer, the pub he would normally go to. No, this was the pub he was supposed to meet up with Mary, where he then ran into Stamford and where this adventure with his detective flatmate started. Now he was there alone, thinking over this crazy day. It had started so normal and now everything was different. The microphone was laying on the table but for once it wasn’t on. John felt upset, extremely upset. It was less painful that his mother was hiding something from him – at a certain age it simply was like that – it hurt more that the people he saw as his best friends went along with it and actually didn’t tell him about it. What problem could be that horrible that it had to be hidden so well? And why didn’t mom just go to the police if it was something serious? Why go to his friends but keep her own son out of it? So many questions and so little answers.
The next day John barely spoke a word to his friends. They had never seen him so upset before. Of course, they tried to apologize but it was all in vain. When it was time for dinner, Sherlock tried again: “Watson. I’m really sorry. But your mother did give very clear instructions.” Silence. “Would you like a hug?” John considered it for a second but then he decided that a simple hug would not solve this matter. “A cup of tea? Biscuits? Anything?” Tea and biscuits for dinner? Yeah no but nice try. “Okay, I don’t understand it. I've apologized multiple times, I don't know what else to do.” John finally opened his mouth to answer but just in that moment someone knocked on the door.
It was Mariana. Perfect timing. “Can I borrow Sherlock for a second?” the doctor couldn’t believe his ears now. The audacity to ask this right in front of him when it was obvious what she wanted Sherlock for. Not this time. He just needed to know what’s going on.
“No actually, first you explain this to me. What is so horrible that my mother doesn’t want me to know?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. Mariana sighed. Now it didn't take much and she finally gave in. She hated this game of hide-and-seek. Only very reluctantly she began to talk.
“Okay. It’s about a guy.” John scoffed and immediately interrupted her baffled. “Really? That’s what she wants to hide from me? She's had dates before ever since dad… well, I'm not mad at her, you know. If it makes her happy then she can go out with whoever she likes.“
“Yes, but the last time they met up the guy acted completely different than before, a complete turnaround. He wanted her to go back to his house but she got suspicious and left early instead. And then she reached out to us. Well, to Sherlock with the request to check up on this man and to not tell you anything.”
John just laughed out loud. “Are you being serious right now? So, this… this is the grand secret that no one here could tell me about? Seriously, why didn’t you just tell me for god’s bloody sake?”
“We were trying to protect you. That guy has also been stealing from her. Nothing expensive but just personal objects. The pictures she had of you and your father in her purse were gone after the first meetup, for example.” A shiver ran down John’s spine. That was extremely creepy. Sherlock sighed and ran a hand over his face. He continued to explain the case. “It gets worse I'm afraid. He’s been involved with women that went missing after they met up with him.” Yup, it indeed got worse. John got goosebumps on his whole body and he wished that this was just a silly coincidence or a bad dream. But it wasn't.
“Who is he?” he finally managed to ask with a sigh and a slightly wobbly voice. Mariana took a quick look at her phone before answering that question. “His name is David Fisher. It’s his real name, Sherlock got that checked.”
“Wait... David Fisher? Why is that name familiar…” the doctor started pacing around the room restlessly while his roommate continued talking. “The police couldn’t find any evidence for his connection to the disappearances but I’m most certain that he has something to do with it. Can’t prove it yet, shame.”
Suddenly John turned around quickly and quite shocked. “Oh my… I know him!” He looked alternatingly at his two friends. “We need to leave now! Right now!”
***
He had always been different. Not by choice. Some people are simply born like that. Most of his time he spent alone, mainly because he was always a bit cleverer than the other kids and he just couldn’t understand the others. His parents were a lovely couple but drowning in work. So, they also had little time for their son.
Things didn't change when he finished high school. He had no difficulties in finding a place to study and even went to study his desired subject, biology. But still, he was very lonely and felt like he didn’t belong there. All the other students were so different and he just couldn’t understand them. And again, he spent most of his time alone studying in his room.
After completing his studies with a remarkable result, he was looking for jobs. But due to a lack of communication and social skills, thanks to him being along so much, he had quite a difficult time. Eventually, he found a job at a university’s cafeteria as a canteen worker and considered himself as an utter failure.
One day a young man with blonde hair and a football tricot came into the cafeteria. This guy sat down with his mates at a table not far from where he was working. He could hear every word they were saying. The young man’s name was John and seemed to have everything he didn’t have. John was studying medicine and had a small group of friends. He could see that this John was pretty socially awkward and yet his friends weren’t appalled by this. No, quite the contrary, they appeared to like him. And again it was something he couldn’t understand. All his life he had been like that and yet no one even bothered to get to know him. He was suddenly feeling very angry.
Many people came to the cafeteria every day. It could have been anyone but for some reason the blonde football tricot John wouldn’t leave his mind. And with that the anger and the jealousy. Why did he succeed at what I didn’t?
***
Luckily, Mariana had found out the address pretty quickly and now they were rushing down the street to get to the underground. On the way John tried to recall what he knew. “He worked in the canteen at university and that was his name, I believe.” They rushed down the stairs and barely made it into the right tube.
“The sort of person that tends to blend into the background and you don’t really notice them. We never even talked. Until one afternoon he attacked me out of nowhere, right there in front of everyone. Nothing happened really but he got fired for it none the less. Bollocks... I had completely forgotten about this.”
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They made it in record time to the address and John nearly couldn’t believe his eyes when the door was finally opened. That was the man from the cafeteria all those years ago. The doctor recognized him despite him being much older now. “Are you David Fisher?” he finally managed to ask.
“Sure yeah. What’s the matter?” David seemed nervous now, fidgeting with his fingers. He had also realized who he just opened the door for. And just like the other man, he had a hard time believing that this was really happening right now.
“I’m John Watson and this is Sherlock Holmes. Can we maybe come in?” David nodded and suddenly John felt very uneasy. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to go into this house but too late, no turning back now.
Walking into the house felt like a timelapse. Like a nightmare or one of those terrible crime series on BBC 4. On one of the countertops, John spotted the stolen pictures from his mom’s wallet. On the wall in the living room there was a collection of very few newspaper articles but somehow they were all about a certain soldier and now podcaster. David just stared at him with a blank expression and appeared almost calm. “Right...” John started but suddenly everything happened so fast.
David rushed forward towards the doctor and tackled him to the floor. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this. Not the way I planned it but…” He got cut off by Sherlock intervening and trying to get him down from his friend. Quickly the attacker recovered and despite him being almost 15 years older, he was able to fight off the two younger men.
For good ten minutes the living room was the scene of a battle before finally the police knocked down the front door and pulled the fighting men apart. Mariana appeared in the door frame. She waited outside and as she heard what was happening, she quickly called the police.
As David got escorted John watched him, exhausted from the fight and disturbed by the whole situation. “Why? Why me? Why my mother? Just... why?” he managed to ask, looking into the cold face of the man. There was not a single bit of regret. David simply answered: “I was unlucky enough to meet you.”
***
David Fisher had a pretty normal life after getting fired from the university’s cafeteria. He was devastated of course but much to his own surprise he pretty quickly found another work. Everything would've been just fine if he didn't get that text. A text he never should’ve read. But he couldn't help himself.
It was a newspaper article. Sent by a family member because a cousin was in it but on that picture was also the blonde football tricot boy. And David saw red. He made a vicious plan. He would get his revenge on John by getting to his mother first. And then he started to practice on the women that disappeared after he met up with them. But he was clever. The police never found anything concrete and so he walked free until the day John actually showed up at his house.
***
“Scary, it’s always the people you’d least expect it from.” Mariana broke the silence between them as they sat at an almost empty pub. The past few days had been complete chaos. John called a lot with his mom. To take their minds off things Mariana had invited the boys to the pub and they ended up staying there way too long.
“Yeah... you know, it was good that you took on the case. Even if you didn't tell me, which you totally should have, and I'm still slightly mad that you didn't, but... who knows what would have happened if you ignored my mother,” the doctor finally answered after a while. He was feeling better but certainly not completely fine yet.
“No,” Sherlock shook his head. “We should have involved you earlier. It was you who solved this case in a matter of minutes. It would have been way worse if you didn't snoop around Mrs Hudson’s phone.”
John wanted to be offended at first but then he just nodded and simply took a sip of his drink. The detective was right, of course. He knew he shouldn’t have but he was so glad he read that text.
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snivyartjpeg · 8 months
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you are so based fr yuma has the perfect embodiment of self love
YES!!! the fact that the first person to reach out to makoto and help (with full trust in him??? omg) was the very version of himself he wanted to kill actually makes me ill. look it's about enemies to lovers despite being one and the same it's about the inherent eroticism of swordfighting to the death it's about coming to an understanding of oneself through each other it's about separating yourself from the circumstances of your birth only to watch it come back to bite you it's about makoto's playfulness vs number 1's coldness vs yuma's earnestness it's about number 1 being so full of pure love and empathy yet so devoid of trust that it took casting away his entire past to even entertain the idea of sharing his burdens because if he didn't he'd just be makoto it's about martyrdom and vulnerability and mind games and being so determined to save everyone together at the expense of themselves
and also it's hot 😎 thanks for coming to my ted talk
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lokiiied · 9 months
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i am a child of johnlock…and these idiots
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mejomonster · 16 hours
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I could go into a tangent about Detective L cdrama amd how thats sort of a Sherlock adaptation (with my fave girl as Watson), and also how Ben Jiu Men was sort of used to split the duo Holmes and Watson into more of a triad structure like Star Trek's Kirk McCoy and Spock.
But that show needed a second season it never got :c
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bmpmp3 · 1 year
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i consider myself a bit of a connoisseur of besties-turned-lovers stories but one thing that has always bothered me a little is when the besties actually become lovers and then the relationship loses all bestie-itude LIKE correct me if im wrong but i feel like these things aren’t usually mutually exclusive... i see it more often with m/f besties but i see it with same gender, etc besties on occasion too and like. YES its realistic that friendships change their dynamics over time (even without turning into lovers) but i always see this thing where these two besties get together and then are immediately like “but i CANT dick around with my bestie anymore because theyre also my significant other” you could if you werent a coward. can’t u dick around with ur bestie romantically. can’t you dick around with ur partner bestie-ly. what am i not getting here
#and i mean maybe its because i do enjoy a m/f relationship often in a very bisexual and mildly genderly sort of way#that this character relationship development style is so like. alien and bizarre to me. what am i not understanding#had pacific rim on the mind and i was thinking about some m/f besties i like. mako and whats his nuts#(sorry i really like his character but i havent seen that movie in like 7 years orz)#i really adore their relationship as besties and also i do like the fun little flirty scenes they had a couple times in the movie too#thats a m/f bestie couple i quite like in like a romantic and platonic way folded over itself. if that makes sense#i think its very sweet and awesome. mako deserves a handsome bestie to flirt with. as a treat#thank god they never removed any bestieness from their relationship. even in the goofy flirty scenes they had they were still bestieing#thank u mr del toro#wait sorry now im thinking about mixed gender besties. i love mulder and scully of course we all do#and in the three seasons ive seen ive come to the conclusion i like them in the sense that like#theyre platonic theyre romantic theyre both theyre neither theyre something else entirely#but most importantly. theyre scully and mulder LOL#its a category in and of itself. a very interesting form of besties#oh and recently ive been rewatching elementary since i never saw the past the first season#that one as of the season ive seen i adore fully and completely platonically. oh these guys are very platonic besties#only sherlock story on earth where sherlock and watson are purely platonic LOL#god their relationship is great. oh speaking of platonic im still like fascinated with that one webcome i never finished. villainess no more#i think thats what it was called. someday i'll finish it. its fun and the romance is sweet but i still like.#kinda liked their relationship more when they were just besties at first sight. marriage of convenience turned platonic besties#probably not intentional from the author. sorry. im a sucker for romance so thats kinda new for me too#theres so many variety of bestie. so many layers. its a rich artform: the bestie
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ask-post-dgs2-crew · 1 year
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How did Naruhodo and the Mikotobas' boat ride home go? How have things been back in Japan?
Hullo, dear friend.
The trip back to our home country was certainly a bittersweet one. It was not my first time having to say goodbye to my second home, but it could be argued that this time was even more difficult. The three of us managed well enough on the boat, with plenty to do to keep our minds occupied, but as I lay awake in an empty bed, I longed to be with my partner.
I feel immense pride for those two fine young adults. They have been getting along better and better as of late, sharing an experience that few could possibly hope to understand. I long for such camaraderie myself.
Things have been successful in Japan. The three of us have worked hard to implement new ideas within our legal system, adding some contingencies in the hopes of stopping any situations like that of The Professor to happen in our country.
I would like to say I do not regret the choice to leave immediately, but I cannot say that in full confidence. I go back and forth on whether or not I made the right idea.
In short, the situation is complex but progressing smoothly. Signed, Dr. Yuujin Mikotoba
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first of all very interesting list second kinda long so three spoiler alert: elementary sherlock is ranked #10! quote below the cut
“Jonny Lee Miller is a patterned-sock-wearing, tattooed, recovering drug addict of a Sherlock Holmes in CBS’s modern television adaptation Elementary (a series which itself might get points on some other ranking for flipping familiar characters from male to female, hello there DOCTOR JOAN WATSON), and, although he looks more like a sensitive bohemian poet than the NYPD’s greatest consultant, he is a fresh, but nonetheless persuasive and recognizable Holmes. After all, Doyle’s Holmes is rather Bohemian himself, and this really doesn’t get tapped into enough. In this series, Holmes is an Englishman in New York City, and Miller’s thoughtful and measured performance hones the two most important takes on the character: that he is traumatized (which is interesting) and that is he *recovering* (which is much more interesting), a complex, emotional two-punch much more fruitful than simply rendering him dysfunctional or even simply fringy for both his genius and drug use, as other adaptations do. This Holmes adaptation makes up a lot of stuff (including this Sherlock’s compulsive memorization and need to know as much trivia as possible… which is not exactly the same as Doyle’s Holmes), but that’s good. It leaves Miller lots of room to make the character his very own. Miller’s Holmes is healing, and his performance calibrates the strains and pains of making emotional connections. “
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contact-guy · 4 months
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I was seized with a fervor and could not rest until I illustrated one of my favorite scenes from Sherlock Holmes: the Adventure of the Devil's Foot. While Holmes and Watson take a holiday in the Cornish countryside for Holmes's health, multiple people in the nearby village are found driven mad or dead from horror. Holmes deduces a substance that was burned in their presence is to blame. With a bit of the mysterious powder and a gas lamp in hand, he proposes an experiment to Watson...
content warning for drug use!
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I'm not sure if it's supported by the canon but in my mind this is the first time Holmes ever apologies to Watson and he is so overcome with emotion that he immediately makes it weird
Text under the cut:
"It is not for me, my dear Watson, to stand in the way of the official police force. I leave them all the evidence which I found. The poison still remained upon the talc had they the wit to find it. Now, Watson, we will light our lamp; we will, however, take the precaution to open our window to avoid the premature decease of two deserving members of society, and you will seat yourself near that open window in an armchair unless, like a sensible man, you determine to have nothing to do with the affair. Oh, you will see it out, will you? I thought I knew my Watson. This chair I will place opposite yours, so that we may be the same distance from the poison and face to face. The door we will leave ajar. Each is now in a position to watch the other and to bring the experiment to an end should the symptoms seem alarming. Is that all clear? Well, then, I take our powder--or what remains of it--from the envelope, and I lay it above the burning lamp. So! Now, Watson, let us sit down and await developments."
They were not long in coming. I had hardly settled in my chair before I was conscious of a thick, musky odour, subtle and nauseous. At the very first whiff of it my brain and my imagination were beyond all control. A thick, black cloud swirled before my eyes, and my mind told me that in this cloud, unseen as yet, but about to spring out upon my appalled senses, lurked all that was vaguely horrible, all that was monstrous and inconceivably wicked in the universe. Vague shapes swirled and swam amid the dark cloud-bank, each a menace and a warning of something coming, the advent of some unspeakable dweller upon the threshold, whose very shadow would blast my soul. A freezing horror took possession of me. I felt that my hair was rising, that my eyes were protruding, that my mouth was opened, and my tongue like leather. The turmoil within my brain was such that something must surely snap. I tried to scream and was vaguely aware of some hoarse croak which was my own voice, but distant and detached from myself. At the same moment, in some effort of escape, I broke through that cloud of despair and had a glimpse of Holmes's face, white, rigid, and drawn with horror--the very look which I had seen upon the features of the dead. It was that vision which gave me an instant of sanity and of strength. I dashed from my chair, threw my arms round Holmes, and together we lurched through the door, and an instant afterwards had thrown ourselves down upon the grass plot and were lying side by side, conscious only of the glorious sunshine which was bursting its way through the hellish cloud of terror which had girt us in. Slowly it rose from our souls like the mists from a landscape until peace and reason had returned, and we were sitting upon the grass, wiping our clammy foreheads, and looking with apprehension at each other to mark the last traces of that terrific experience which we had undergone.
"Upon my word, Watson!" said Holmes at last with an unsteady voice, "I owe you both my thanks and an apology. It was an unjustifiable experiment even for one's self, and doubly so for a friend. I am really very sorry."
"You know," I answered with some emotion, for I have never seen so much of Holmes's heart before, "that it is my greatest joy and privilege to help you."
He relapsed at once into the half-humorous, half-cynical vein which was his habitual attitude to those about him. "It would be superfluous to drive us mad, my dear Watson," said he. "A candid observer would certainly declare that we were so already before we embarked upon so wild an experiment. I confess that I never imagined that the effect could be so sudden and so severe." He dashed into the cottage, and, reappearing with the burning lamp held at full arm's length, he threw it among a bank of brambles. "We must give the room a little time to clear. I take it, Watson, that you have no longer a shadow of a doubt as to how these tragedies were produced?"
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mssoapart · 1 month
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Day 7
Free-day (Out of order and late) Alenoah as Sherlock/Moriarty.
I like it when two characters play mind games and scheming against or with each other.
I didn`t plan to create an AU, but – my rant and bits of literature/character analysis (The Vision). Also, draw concept sketch.
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Noah (Detective Sherlock Holmes). I mean, they're both geniuses, introverts who don't care about social opinion and some versions depicted him as being good with dogs. In Victorian England, I totally see Noah opening a detective agency, because you either go working on a plant or you might use your geniuses’ intelligence to solve crimes, like game puzzles, and make monies to pay bills and buy new books because in 1800 many books were expensive and produced in small quantities.
Plus! I might look at this too far, but I think the Sherlock and Watson analogy was implemented in London episode when they strip team Chris just to Noah and Owen for investigation.
Owen (Dr. Watson). Basically in the original books, Watson plays the role of the guy, your typical visual novel MC, well narrator, who has character, but his whole purpose is just to be a witness to detectives doing, asking questions for the audience. This leads to usually representing Watson as either annoyed with Sherlock's antics or (usually in kids' media) naïve but with good intentions because of this simplification, to show his kindhearted nature in cartoons and caricatures he is portrayed as chubby, which is what we need! But all of them did service in the Anglo-Afghan War, even Disney version mentioned it. (Also if you want to do Nowen version of Jhonlock I don`t mind, sure go for it)
Alejandro (professor Moriarty). Do I really need to explain? Both archvillains in their stories. Professor, respected in society for his talent and achievements, wealthy, but behind all of that façade he`s "Napoleon of crime". He doesn’t usually do crimes himself but rather, schemes, orchestrates the events, or provides the plans that will lead to a successful crime, like paying money to a court so that someone can be released from prison.
Heather (Irene Adler). OK, in the original books (all books written not by Arthur Conan Doyle are basically fanfics) her character and Sherlock don`t date (But if you like, it`s fine). She was more like “I know what you are” towards him.  I want to base it more on Warner Bros Sherlock where Irene works with Moriarty, but they also try to get rid of each other. She is also famous for blackmailing royals, If it isn`t most Heather thing I don`t know what is.
Eva (Mrs. Hudson). The landlady. I think it would be funny, she yelling at them to pay their bills in time.
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See you next week
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theres-a-body-here · 4 months
Note
Hi could you do Genji, Hanzo, Cassidy, lifewaver and Mauga (separately) where they have matching skins with thier s/o
It took some convincing to make these boys match with you, some more than others, but you were determined to be twinsies on the field.
I threw in two extras, as a treat
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Cole Cassidy - Sherlock Holmes and Watson
Took little to no convincing to have him match with you, but he was dead set on being Sherlock
This isn't negotiable
Expect to hear everything but your name out there
"Dear boy", "Watson", and "My dear" is all you're gonna be referred as
Cassidy will refuse to respond to you unless you refer to him as "sir" or "boss"
You could take a bullet to the side and he'll be kneeling over you like: "Hmm, yes, that is indeed a nasty wound my boy"
"You're a moron.....Sir" you groan out as he drags you to Mercy
Eventually, you really play into the roll
wrapping your arms around Cassidy from behind as you press your cheek against his
"Do you have a plan, Boss?"
He coughs, being caught off guard
"Yes, my dear Watson...it's uhh....ya know, this" He says as he spins peacemaker in his hands
"World's greatest detective, everyone" You remark sarcastically
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Genji Shimada - Kamen Rider
He's actually the one who first asked to match costumes
You both bickered over who to be
Genji insisted you dress as Evolto, but you also wanted to be Kamen
In the end, you both dressed as Kamen
Genji dressed as Kamen Rider Blade
You dressed as Kamen Rider Gaia
You both pose and exclaim with a loud "Henshin!" after every elimination
The others don't really get it
Genji kinda just shuffles over and hugs you, pressing his faceplate into your chest sadly after being called a "Power Ranger" for the 5th time.
You have to stifle your laughter as you comfort him
"It's not the same thing," he whines, voice muffled by your chest
"Yeah buddy, they're completely different franchises," you chuckle out, rubbing his back
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Niran "Bua" Pruksamanee - Bee and Flower
Pretty excited to match costumes with you
Niran took a pretty long time to pick which flower to dress as
"Maybe I should stick with Lotus, but...Jasmines..." he mutters as he brings fabrics to his chest, imagining himself as each flower
you sat on his bed wearing a bumblebee suit, watching on as Niran struggled to make a decision
He settles on fuchsia, bright purples and trailing fabric
Costume is so extravagant that you look comically out of place in your cheap Bee outfit
Niran doesn't mind, in fact, he finds it cute
He especially loves your puns
"Bee mine," you coo as you kiss his cheek
He chuckles as he returns the kiss
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Hanzo Shimada - Cupid and Eros
You're gonna have to bust out all your tricks to convince this man to wear something so, in his words, undignified
What ever you do to get him into the cupid costume, expect complaints
"This is....embarassing," he mutters begrudgingly as he sits on your bed, tugging at his pastel pink wings
The bathroom door opens as you step out in your Eros outfit
"How do I look, Babe?'
Hanzo's face immediately erupts into a blazing red
"Wh-What are you wearing?" he exclaims as he adverts his gaze, looking at anywhere but you
Your outfit is... minimal to say the least
Wings, red sash, sandals, bow, and a thin loincloth. That's literally it
Besides that? Nearly all of your skin was on display
"Aww, you don't like it?" you tease as you walk closer to Hanzo
You straddle his lap, feeling him stiffen under you
You cup his face while you rub his cheeks with your thumbs
"I'm just teasing you. I have a much more modest outfit ready
Hanzo lets out a sigh as he looks at you
You lean in closer, ghosting your lips over his ear
"This one is for tonight" you whisper
Hanzo swears you'll be the end of him one day
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Maugaloa Malosi - Māui and Hine-nui-te-pō
You brought up the idea of matching costumes and he instantly had a mischievous look in his eyes
He agreed on the condition that he chooses the theme
He dressed as Māui and he helped make a costume for you
You recognized Māui from a movie, but you had no idea who Hine-nui-te-pō was
"Don't worry about it" he assured you with a chuckle
You two had a blast on the battlefield with your matching costumes
Although, you couldn't help but think something was up every time Mauga glanced at you
He'd smirk and throw you a wink
But this was Mauga, so it didn't really set off a red flag
Its not until the end of the battle where a talon grunt said something
"What he'd do to convince you to dress like that?"
You looked confused. The grunt explained she was from New Zealand.
She told you the story of Māui and Hine-nui-te-pō
Your face went from shock, embarrassment, to rage
You stomped your way to Mauga, who wore a shit-eating grin
You stood in front of him as your swung your hands to slap him
But you're too short
"God dammit! Lean over, asshole!" you cry as you jump at him Mauga breaks into a fit of laughter as he picks you up and swings you around
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Jamison Fawkes - Yoshikage Kira and Killer Queen
Surprisingly, Junkrat was pretty hesitant to match costumes
He was worried changing clothes would include bathing
He likes his soot and burns thank you very much
"I have an aesthetic to maintain, mate"
But you knew how to break him
The moment the words "turns anything into a bomb" left your lips, he was instantly on board
Obviously he was gonna be the explosion cat
But since this was Junkrat, you had to approve his costume beforehand
You deadass had to explain to him why entering a bathtub of alcohol and pink sharpie markers to color his skin was a terrible idea
"But the damn cat's pink isn't it?" He asks, dumbfounded that you had a problem with his genius idea
"We'll use facepaint, babe"
You show off your costumes to the rest
Jamie wearing cat ears, Pink face paint, and leather gloves
You wearing a suit, dyed your hair blond, and severed mannequin hand in your pocket
After an ultimate that wiped out a good number of the enemy team, Junkrat clears his throat to speak
"Watashi no na wa "Kira yoshikage" nenrei 33-sai jitaku wa moriōchō hokutō-bu no bessō chitai ni ari ..."
The rest of you kinda stood around staring at him shocked
"I didn't know Mr. Fawkes knew japanese," Mei comments to you in a hushed voice, not wanting to interrupt Junkrat
You and Roadhog kinda look at each other
"He doesn't" you both say in unison
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Reinhardt Wilhelm - Knight and Squire
A Knight and his squire? Count him in!
To be honest, you being his squire is somewhat of a fantasy he has, so Reinhardt was pretty excited to match costumes with you
You let him have a major say in your outfit since it was apparent this was big for him
He picked out colors of the old Crusade; Muted browns, greens and vibrant golds
Reinhardt wore his Balderich outfit
He fumbled to find a camera to capture the moment
Before you two left to meet up with the others for training drills, Reinhardt stopped you
"Y/N...can you...do something for me?" He asks nervously, voice almost a whisper
"Yeah sure, what's up big guy?"
"Can you bring me my hammer?" he finally responds after a while
You shrug and walk over to grab the massive weapon, bringing it over with a bit of strain
You had an idea of why he asked you to do this
You knelt on one knee and raised the hammer with both hands
"Your hammer, Sir Wilhelm"
Reinhardt's hands clench into a fists, the fabric of the gloves making a creaking sound from the pressure
He pushes the hammer aside and pulls you in for a bone crushing bear hug
"You've made this old dog happy, Y/N" he mutters as he nuzzles his face into your neck
"Yeah, sure, no problem" you strain out as you see spots on your vision
Reinhardt drops you immediately
"Sorry..." he mutters as he pats your shoulder
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spencerreidswhore187 · 9 months
Text
False Confidence
Don't take yourself so seriously / Look at you all dressed up for someone you never see.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: Spencer and Y/N hate each other, they just don't realise they have been anonymously messaging for months.
Word Count: 2.8k
T/W: Mentions of murder and death
A/N: For @sackofpissandshit . I came up for the premise of this as a plate of prawns fell onto my head at work. Enjoy! ◡̈
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SherlockHolmes1887: You were right. 
You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face; you replied immediately, the half-drunk coffee in your hand forgotten. 
NapoleonOfCrime: Feel free to say that again.
He did.  
Briefly, you looked up from your phone to cross the road. You were on the way to work having just received a message from Hotch. It sounded urgent. 
NapoleonOfCrime: So what made you realise that, as per usual, I was right? 
You had spent the better part of the night trying to convince him that Sherlock Holmes was in love with Jim Moriarty. You had met him online several months ago, on an Arthur Conan Doyle forum and have been messaging ever since. 
He, except for the one and only Penelope Garcia, was your best friend. You told him everything. Except for who you are. 
Early on in talking you both had agreed not to exchange names, tell each other where you lived or what you did for a career. You knew what SherlockHolmes1887 favourite film was (Star Trek), that he liked wearing mismatched socks and his mum used to call him ‘Crash’ because he would crash into things when he was younger. You knew that, like you, he had four qualifications, liked Sherlock Holmes and had an unhealthy obsession with coffee. You just didn’t know his name. 
Your phone vibrated. 
SherlockHolmes1887: “The greatest schemer of all time, the organiser of every devilry, the controlling brain of the underworld, a brain which might have made or marred the destiny of nations—that's the man! But so aloof is he from general suspicion, so immune from criticism, so admirable in his management and self-effacement, that for those very words that you have uttered he could hale you to a court and emerge with your year's pension as a solatium for his wounded character. [...] Foulmouthed doctor and slandered professor—such would be your respective roles! That's genius, Watson.”
Your phone buzzed again. You silenced it as you walked into the BAU elevator. 
SherlockHolmes1887: I reread ‘The Valley of Fear’ last night. 
You were about to reply when a voice cried out. 
“Hold the door!” 
Instinctively, you stretched your arm out between the closing elevator doors. 
The person entered beside you. 
If you had known who had asked, you would have let the doors shut. 
Dr Spencer Reid leant on his cane, drumming his fingers against its metal top as the elevator moved upwards. He had recently been shot in the leg on a case. You would never tell him but when that gun fired, you thought you were going to be sick. Your heart ached. It made you hate him even more.
“Reid,” you said, staring forward. You refused to look at him.
“L/N,” He replied. 
That was the most words you’d exchanged in days. 
When the doors finally opened again, you both headed towards the round table, where the rest of the team was waiting. 
You and Spencer were the last to arrive. 
It’s not like him to be late, you thought.  
You took a seat between Emily Prentiss and Derek Morgan - you were sat as far away from Spencer as possible.
“Now that you are all here,” Hotch began, pulling you from your thoughts, “let’s begin.” 
Penelope connected her computer to the screen; there was a picture of a body. The flesh was rotten, decayed from what was evidently years hidden away. Your eyes are wide as you saw it: a long cut, rough and jagged, stretched from neck to naval. You recognised this signature. 
“The Brooklyn Butcher,” you said, interrupting the silence. 
Hotch nodded. 
It was a case that had occurred six years ago and ended up going cold. 
Spencer recalled, “Eleven women, all under the age of twenty-five, all with red hair, went missing and then their bodies always turned up three days later with a long knife wound across their torso.” 
“The only body,” you continued, “that was never discovered was Sharon Lewis’. The first to go missing. The wife of Mitch Lewis, the prime suspect during the investigation.” 
“Why wasn’t he arrested?” Derek asked. 
Spencer answered before you could, tucking a strand of his brown hair behind his ear. Why did you want to run your hands through his hair? 
“There was no evidence. The police’s only theory was his wife was his first kill and he killed all the other victims who resembled her in an attempt to relive the thrill of the kill.”
“He had an alibi for Sharon Lewis’ disappearance,” you added. 
“Correct - they also never found her body. They couldn’t prove their theory without her body.” 
“Well,” Hotch said, “they have now.” 
“Sharon Lewis, aged twenty-four, was the first victim in the Brooklyn Butcher killings. Cause of death, blunt force trauma to the head.” 
JJ leant back in her chair and pressed her pen to her lips, “So the cut was postmortem?”
“According to the coroners.” 
“But that was not the case for the rest of the victims?”
“No,” Hotch replied. 
“Our UNSUB gained confidence in his kills.” 
Lewis was likely his first-ever kill. You wanted to message Sherlock and ask him what he thought. He was intelligent beyond belief, you were sure he would add valuable insight to this case but you couldn’t tell him. Then he would know you worked for the Behavioural Analysis Unit. You couldn’t let him know that. He couldn’t know who you were. What would he think then? When he knew you were more comfortable around dead bodies than real people.
“How was the body discovered?” Spencer asked. 
Hotch had that dark look in his eyes, the one he got when an UNSUB scared him. You hadn’t seen that look in his eyes since Haley died. 
“The body was left on an empty police vehicle parked outside a station in Brooklyn. There was a note attached to it.”
Penelope clicked a button on her laptop and the slide changed to a screwed-up piece of paper nailed to the shoulder of the body. 
Hotch read it aloud, “You have three days before I kill another. Happy hunting, the Butcher.”
He stood up from his seat, “Selene Harker was reported missing twelve hours ago. We leave for New York now - wheels up in twenty. Penelope, you’re coming with us.” 
She smiled nervously, you gave her a discreet thumbs up. 
Everyone stood up from the round table and headed towards the door, you had grabbed the handle when Hotch stopped you.
“L/N, you need to stay here.”
You froze, confused. 
He continued, “Reid has not been cleared to fly by his doctors yet and I need you to go through the old Mitch Lewis interrogation clips, find out whether he told any lies. Stay in touch.” 
With that he left the room, leaving you there with Spencer before you had a second to protest. 
You weren’t really sure how you did it, it’s an ability you’ve had since you were a kid. It’s how you were flagged by the FBI. You could tell when people lied. Everyone has a tell and, like the lie-detecter you are, you knew how to spot it. 
When you and Reid had first met, three years ago, he had told you all the statistics about lies: “Did you know,” he had said, “10% of all lies can be defined as exaggerations, though 60% of all lies are considered to be deceptive.” 
You remembered how you had nodded, anxious as it was your first day. 
“Of all liars, 70% of them claim to be willing to do it again. Every week, Americans tell 11 lies. In a study of 11,366 lies told by 632 people over 91 days, 75% of them lied between 0 or 2 times per day.”
“You know a lot,” You had laughed. 
Reid seemed kind. You liked kind people; you dealt with a lot of horrible people growing up. 
“I have an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187.” 
That was the first time you and Spencer had ever spoken and it was the last time you ever spoke like friends. 
You spun on your heels to face Spencer. 
“You leave me alone and I’ll leave you be. Understood?” 
“Understood,” Spencer said, rolling his eyes. 
“God, you are so infuriating.”
“I hate you,” he retorted. 
You noticed the way his jaw tensed. 
You grinned, “Lie.” 
Spencer groaned and left the room. Through the window, you saw him take a seat at his desk. 
Laughing, you walked into Penelope’s office and pulled up the police footage. 
You were three hours into the Mitch Lewis footage and he had told three lies. 
The first was that he did not know what happened to the other victims. Although, this could mean he had read about the case online. 
The second was more interesting. Lewis said he was at the pub when his wife disappeared. Even though there was security camera footage to confirm this, he was lying, 
The third made your head spin. He said he didn’t kill her. True. He said he didn’t know where she was. Lie. 
You paused the interrogation and contacted Hotch to tell him what you had found. He replied telling you to take a break as they searched for Mitch Lewis. 
In an attempt to distract yourself, you reached for your phone and messaged Sherlock. 
NapoleonOfCrime: Hi.
He replied almost immediately. 
SherlockHolmes1887: Hey.
NapoleonOfCrime: So you read ‘The Valley of Fear’ in one night just to try and prove me wrong? 
SherlockHolmes1887: If that’s how you want to interpret it :) 
NapoleonOfCrime: And?
SherlockHolmes1887: And…they are very much in love. It’s almost blindingly obvious. 
NapoleonOfCrime: “It has been an intellectual treat for me to see the manner in which you have grappled with this case.” The definition of enemies to lovers.
SherlockHolmes1887: Enemies to lovers? 
You don’t think you ever smiled as much as when you did with him. 
NapoleonOfCrime: It’s better you don’t ask, or else I’ll be sending you links to Moriaty x Sherlock fan fiction.
SherlockHolmes1887: What are you doing right now?
Your fingers danced along the tiny keyboard on the phone screen.
NapoleonOfCrime: Work. You? 
SherlockHolmes1887: Work. 
NapoleonOfCrime: How is it? 
It made you nervous that he didn’t reply instantly. 
NapoleonOfCrime: Don’t worry, this isn’t me trying to figure out what you do or who you are. I like the mystery. 
SherlockHolmes1887: Horrible. But it’s not really work that’s the problem. There’s a girl. 
It hurt a little to know there was a girl, of course it did, but you didn’t mind. What you cared about was how he seemed distressed. 
NapoleonOfCrime: If you want to share, I’m a good listener. 
He typed for what seemed like an eternity. 
SherlockHolmes1887: We, her and I, have worked together for years. She’s smart and funny and beautiful. So beautiful. But she hates me. I messed up when we first met, I was so nervous around her that I just ignored her. Whenever she tried to speak to me, I would walk away or just act like she wasn’t there. And, now, I am finally more confident, she can’t even be near me without glaring in my direction at least once. 
You yearned for someone to talk about you that way. No one had ever told you that you were beautiful. You didn’t need someone to tell you because you didn’t believe it, it’s just that sometimes, on the inevitable bad days, you want to feel wanted. 
NapoleonOfCrime: I’m sure if you explain it to her, she will understand - you said she’s smart. I can see why you like her. 
SherlockHolmes1887: Yeah, I fell hard. 
I fell hard. 
You recalled what Hotch had said, “Cause of death, blunt force trauma to the head.” 
You recalled how the cut was messy and hesitant whilst the rest were neat. 
 You recalled how it was done postmortem whilst the rest were the cause of death. 
You ran out of Penelope’s office, straight to Dr Spencer Reid. 
“Spence,” you shouted.
You were both alone in the room. 
Spencer looked up from his phone. It was strange, to see him on a phone. You had always thought he was the type of person to hate technology. Instead, he seemed thoroughly invested in whatever was on his screen. 
“Who are you messaging?” You asked, acting causal.
“No one,” he said.
Lie.
“A girl?”
“No.” 
Lie.
Spencer’s face had gone bright red. It was cute; it made you smile. 
Why did it make you smile? 
You decided to change the topic before your face went red. 
“Do you have the coroner’s report?” You questioned. 
He dug through the many files covering his desk and held it up for you to see. 
Blunt force to the frontal lobe, that confirmed your suspicions. 
You stared into Spencer’s brown eyes.
“I know what happened to Sharon Lewis.” 
You explained how it must have happened. Sharon was reported missing by her friend at 19:37. She was supposed to be meeting her a 18:00. Mitch Lewis was at a bar from 17:30-20:01, this was confirmed by camera footage. This means that Lewis can’t have kidnapped his wife. Or, perhaps, she never went missing. She tripped getting ready to see her friend and fell down the staircase. She would have died upon impact.
Spencer nodded in agreement with your theory.
“When Lewis got home and saw his wife’s body sprawled out at the base of the stairs, he saw an opportunity…” 
“He dragged her downstairs to the basement, explaining the deep scratches on her back noted in the coroner’s report.” You said, “Lewis worked in construction, he had a table and tools down there, he said so in one of his interrogations. He placed her on that table and cut her. He butchered her. And then did the same to others to try and recreate the high of killing his wife.” 
“We need to call Hotch.” 
Four hours later and Mitch Lewis had confessed and was in police custody.
Derek and Emily had found Selene Harker chained to the very same table Lewis had carved his wife like a cold slab of meat. 
The team was on their way back from Quantico.
You found Spencer sitting on a bench outside the FBI building. Spinning the silver ring your grandmother gave you around your index finger, you sat down next to him. 
You both stared forward, at the road. 
You were glad that you weren’t the only one who was affected by cases like this. You were glad that you weren’t the only one overwhelmed by empathy. Your mother once told you that empathy without boundaries was self-destruction but you were just glad that after so much time in this field, you still felt something. 
Spencer eventually broke the silence. 
“It scares me, Y/N, how easy a life can end.” 
Spencer clutched his cane so tightly that his knuckles went white. 
Gently, you eased one of his hands off it and held it in yours. 
You could hear your blood rushing in your ears. It was deafening. 
“You know, when I was a kid, I was always tripping over things. I walked into doors, tables, you name it. My mum would call me ‘Crash.’”
He laughed dryly whilst your world began to crumble around you. 
You dropped Spencer’s hand. 
“Sh-she called you what?” 
Spencer turned to look at you, confusion and worry were etched across his face, “Y/N? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” 
It’s not that you were upset, in fact, you felt almost the opposite of that. 
Your voice was steadier than you expected when you spoke.
“He is the Napoleon of crime, Watson.”
“Y/N?”
“He is the organiser of half that is evil and of nearly all that is undetected in this great city.”
“It can’t be.” 
Spencer held his face in his hands. 
“Disappointed, Sherlock Holmes 1887?”
You said it mockingly but you were terrified of what Spencer would say. 
“No, Napoleon of Crime. Not even a little bit.”
True.
“You told me to explain how I felt to that girl so here goes. The first thing I noticed about you was your smile. I saw it from the other side of the room. And, Y/N, it was contagious. Just looking at you made me smile. You are so beautiful and so intelligent and I have wanted to tell you how desperately I liked you since the day we met.” 
He cradled your cheek with one hand. 
“And now I know that this whole time, as well as being the person I can see myself falling in love with, you are my best friend, my favourite, my person.” 
“I hate you, Spence,” you say just before you kiss him. 
Smiling against your lips, you hear him whisper, “Lie.” 
865 notes · View notes
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Gay wrongs tournament, quarterfinals of the major bracket
Propaganda:
For House and Wilson:
Literally the most insane couple of all time from medical malpractice the show. They’re best friends, they live together, they’ve drugged eachother, they make stupid bets together, they manipulate each other, they ride off into the sunset together. They’re Sherlock and Watson, they’re the best doctors in their fields and you’d never want them anywhere near your medical care.
Medical malpractice <3
For Will and Hannibal:
Ive previously only heard the term "murder husbands" refer to hannigram so it feels flitting. The whole series culminated with a murder they did together bathing in blood. 
The show and ship that coined murder husbands. It’s in the text in s3 from a journalist side character. They do Many murders either together or as a message to each other. Usually this involves turning the dead body into an art piece. The show ends with them killing a guy together in a slo mo scene backed by porno music.
They're both batshit and manipulative.
ALRIGHT so they're not canonically together but it is HEAVILY implied and they have some sort of fucked up psychosexual obsession with each other. in the later parts of the show they start committing murder and cannibalism together and they're soooo unhinged but it's awesome
kill people for each other. maim each other. kill people together. most batshit insane metaphors. send each other to jail. ruin everyone’s lives. someone can probably say this better than me but these gay people are insane
Literally THE murder husbands. They kill for each other. They've tried to kill each other. They're canon in all but name, like the homoeroticism between these two is the driving force of the show.
one time hannibal folded a guy into an origami human heart
They are in love and they kill and eat people. They are called Murder Husbands in canon.
The original murder husbands (literally, that's not just their ship name, they get called that in canon)
The show begins with Will working for the FBI and trying to catch Hannibal, but because Hannibal is so intrigued by the way Will is able to see the world and the motives behind the killings so easily, it becomes a game of Hannibal isolating Will even more from the people around and seducing him to try and kill. By the time Will starts embracing the side of him that Hannibal sees, he starts oulling back and trying to distance himself so that when the time comes for Will to fully embrace himself and Hannibal, no one really suspects what they have planned. 
hannibal literally does murder as courtship and it works bc will is also a fucked up little guy
I'm actually quite offended they aren't included by default (joke). They are THE murder husbands!!!!!! (mod note: they should have been, but I wanted to see how many submissions they'd get. They got 19, making them a little more than 6% of total submission count).
do i have to say it. they literally get called murder husbands IN THE SHOW
There are 3201 works for Hannibal on ao3 tagged Murder Husbands. They are the ogs, they are the pioneers we owe it all to them.
THEE murder couple. You know it. I know it. They commit crimes at each other as courting and then commit crimes together and then fall off a cliff to wash up somewhere and live on to serve cunt. Get referred to as 'murder husbands' in canon. What more do you need
Hannigram were literally called Murder Husbands in canon, they are the og, they are THE blueprint. They were gay as hell and comitted so much murder so many crimes. THEY RAN OFF TO EUROPE TOGETHER.
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Submission message: howdy, would like to submit keith and lance from voltron (lmao)
Submission message: BBC Sherlock and Moriarty / BBC Sherlock and John Watson
Additional propaganda: Now Keith and Lance on the other hand was a whole fucking mess that they then shoehorned in an hetero romance to try and "fix it" but by lord it was bad, everything about voltron is so fucking bad
Anyway this is my Klance propaganda : They were actually bait
Klance's queer baiting by the team was the worst!! We had to deal with NETFLIX ALSO GETTING IN ON THE QUEER BAITING!! If you searched up Kkance during the times for season 6-8, the SHOW WOULD POP UP. The directors would make jokes about it being canon, even Lance's VA got in the joke!
Their queer baiting was the worst for anyone who was even looking for an ounce of queer rep in that show. The only queer rep we got was a man who died after not even 5 minutes on screen, and shoehorned in the credit scene of a gay wedding of a character that was neither Keith nor Lance.
I do not know Agatha and Sophie, so I can't argue that klance was bigger bait or not, I just know voltron was mean lmao. the creators said stuff like "lance will be someone's first choice!" (meaning NOT ending up in a relationship with allura bc she very much chose another guy over him) and heavily implying he would be Keith's 1st choice (or a guy in general bc of point number 2). point number 2: they also released official art showing how super cool and diverse the main cast was! race! gender! LGBT - they had shiro (who was......canon gay but that's a whole other can of worms) and lance hold the sign with LGBT on it and then did absolutely nothing with that w lance at all (he hit on allura, so obvi he's not gay, but at least bi or smt) (UNLESS you count the scenes where he's flirty with keith). I just remember going into the last few seasons being like "klance probably won't be happen be honest with yourself there's like no queer kids shows!! but damn like it so could tho!!! because of how much it's been teased both in the show and by showrunners like I can't have no hope with the way the producers talk about it!" lmao I should have had no hope, but i genuinkey believed there was a possibility it could happen. and actually I discovered after the fact that i think one of the writers for the show who was the main advocate for klance (they had a lot of diff writers for eps, which led to lots of character butchering but ANYWAY) left not terribly long into the show I believe bc he didn't like the direction it was moving in and didn't want to be tied to the show anymore. so it's not like fans just made klance up either - it was written into earlier episodes with the hope and plan to continue developing later, and then just nothing ever happened with it besides INTENSE teasing it to keep queer fans around. esp after shiro's relationship was literally only a flashback and then his fiance thing or whatever got blown up before we even got to watch him interact w shiro as we knew him in present time in s7, so I think they kept being like hmmm klance and the stuff about lance being a first choice before s8 to keep ppl around. also esp bc klancers made up such a big portion of the fan base. then they made a horrible szn and ended it w a flashforward to shiro marrying some random background character who maybe had 1 line? I just remember hitting the flashforward and being like uhhhh who is this dude??? but they did that to hit those diversity points wow first gay marriage in a cartoon or smt idk it doesn't count to me really. so anyway voltron in general is queerbait lol but klance is because it started out as a legit possibility and then they said sike! but only maybe sike bc u guys are mad at us burying our guys in s7 so maybe klance could still happen haha okay now we're serious no it's not happening. anyway I think klance is p bad queerbait and a vote for them is a valid vote, not just u liking the ship.
#im sorry but johnlock is a household name in ther queerbait trenches
I don't know much about blaze runner, but this website made me endure Johnlock FOR YEARS, that ship makes me so fucking angry, and it's so much bait, the whole fucking show is just 4 kinds of bait in a trenchcoat trying to pass as something good, and Tumblr(and the rest of the goddamn world) ate it up like a five course meal. So anyway that's why I'm voting Johnlock
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curioscurio · 3 months
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Reading a lot of Sherlock Holmes, and trying to draw victorian men accurately will lead you to learning that people wrote on their shirt cuffs often in ink because they were detachable and usually made of extremely starched linen or PAPER. working class men would find them stiff, overly formal, or not worth spending the money on it, but if you were mid to upper class then it was expected that you wear just as much complicated, sillohuete focused shapewear as women. Victorian men also wore corsets, especially military men, to achieve that puffy chest and flat stomach look around the 1820's.
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The male corset fad had died down a little around the turn of the century (1880-early 1900's) as women fought for more comfortable and less oppressive shapewear, and effeminate men ridiculed for wearing the once fashionable and even medically recommended undergarmet. However, the male corset in the 1880's was still fairly popular enough to be advertised by dressmakers!
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(Forgive me not citing my sources at the moment, but these advertisements I believe are dated around 1880 when mens corsets fell out of popular style but were still available and fashionable in certain circles.)
Therefore, it is reasonable to assume that Dr. Watson, being both a medical and military man... probably wouldn't have worn a corset at the time of his deployment around 1880, unfortunately. ( I know, we're all dissappinted.)
Not that he couldn't wear one if he wanted to! But based on ACD cannon, I really feel that he would not be the kind of guy to wear one. Call it speculation, but if I had been deployed and then shot in the shoulder and leg, wearing a corset would be all but torture on my body. Let alone trying to wrestle an injured soldier out of one while trying to stitch him up. Corsets for military men were more of a fashion statement than a medical device; and even then, it was only helpful for orthopedic reasons (back problems mostly).
It was also around that time that the Women's Dress Reform movement began. Despite the Sherlock Holmes novels being ripe with period-typical misogyny, I like to imagine that Watson would side with the women and medical professionals on this one, in that they were often restrictive, unnecessary, and medically harmful in the long run.
Sherlock Holmes, however, absolutely has a large variety of both male and female corsets for various disguises and probably wears them often. This isn't explicitly stated in canon or anything, I just feel it in my heart.
Sorry if this is all over the place or not completely accurate! I went down a rabbit hole but am totally open to any corrections! Also I think the idea of Watson lacing up Holmes and grumbling about corsets is a funny visual lol
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wileys-russo · 9 months
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a practically perfect pair II l.wubben-moy x reader
tooth rotting fluff because you simply can’t convince me otherwise that lotte doesn’t give off the most wholesome, sweet and loving girlfriend energy
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a practically perfect pair II l.wubben-moy x reader
3.9K words
you first met lotte when you were just fifteen.
you had both been selected for the under 17's lionesses junior euros, it was your first ever junior national call up and having been one of the only girls who hadn't played with the team before, you found yourself on the outs with the group.
it wasn't to say they purposefully left you out by any means, everyone was friendly and you felt welcomed. but not having been present for other camps or tournaments, there was inside jokes and stories shared which you just couldn't relate to, which lead to you feeling isolated from most of your team mates.
you'd always been more on the quiet introverted side and with so many large bubbly personalities in the team it was easy for you to blend into the background, something you didn't mind by any means feeling quite a sense of security from not being the centre of anyone's focus.
it did however mean you weren't starting for the first match of the tournament, and found yourself sat on the bench with a substitutes bib over your jersey which was easily two sizes too big for you.
you cheered and clapped and encouraged your team mates who were on the pitch, and kept your head down and listened intently during the half time speech, taking note of anything and everything on the rare chance you might be subbed on.
you weren't, but the girls came away with a win and you couldn't have been happier for them, exchanging hugs and congratulating them sincerely.
it was on the bus ride home that you had your first real interaction with lotte, you were sat up toward the front, the louder and more boisterous of your team mates always occupied the back and as we've established, you quite liked to blend in and avoid any unnecessary attention.
which was why you jumped out of your skin in shock as a body dropped down into the empty seat beside you, despite there being dozens of unpopulated rows.
"oh gosh im sorry! i promise i didn't mean to startle you." a toothy smile and messy mop of brown hair stared back at you guiltily as you softly assured her it was fine and you were just by nature quite a jumpy person.
"i don't think we've really had the chance to talk much, do you mind if i sit here?" the girl had asked a little quieter as you shook your head and her smile widened, dumping her backpack at her feet and buckling in as the engine roared to life.
you heard a few of the other girls calling out for her to come and sit with them but she waved them off as she pulled her hair back into a bun, assuring you before you could even open your mouth that she wanted to sit with you.
"hey you've got a little something..." the brunette started, pointing down to the collar of your jersey as you frowned and looked down, only for her finger to swipe up and knock at your nose as she grinned at you cheekily for the joke.
"i know we technically already know one another's names, but im lotte." the girl beamed, holding out her hand as you grinned and shook her outstretched palm, shoving her hand away as she poked at your nose and teased you for how easily you'd fallen for her previous joke.
"so i will admit i am an absolute sucker for a mystery, and right now you have to be the biggest one here. mind helping me solve it sherlock?" lotte requested playfully, leaning back on her headrest and looking at you expectantly.
"why most certainly watson." you quipped back with a shy smile and a giggle, lottes own smile widening at your answer, admittedly a little worried that she might have overwhelmed you with how suddenly and strongly she was coming on. 
the brunettes eyes twinkled with genuine curiosity toward the girl in front of her, who she had admittedly been staring after ever since she'd  joined the team. but seeing how reserved you were she didn't want to scare you off, though now spurred on by her friends and team mates who were also wanting to get to know you better without freaking you out if they came at you as a pack, here she was.
and from that first playful round of twenty questions on the bus back to the hotel the two of you quickly cemented into a close duo, one rarely seen without the other by their side or trailing far behind.
your blossoming friendship with lotte and the effortless charm and charisma that oozed from the older girl meant your own confidence grew in leaps and bounds, and though it took a little more time than with lotte you grew close with a small handful of the girls from that first national camp, in a group you all fondly nicknamed the good peeps.
the first real hurdle in your tight knit bond came a few years later when lotte made the decision to move to an american college. it was the best move to further her football career in a program that you had no doubt would help her absolutely thrive.
as much as both her, lois and alessia had begged you and some of the others in the group to make that same call, you weren't as brave as them and just couldn't commit from being so far away from your home and your family and your support system for so long.
the first few months of her being gone were fine, both of you one another's go to for absolutely anything and everything, especially the swapping of stories or news about your days and lives, you both scheduled in face times and phone calls and you were even in talks of booking a trip to go and visit her during your off season, having chosen yourself to commence training at the arsenal academy.
but as time passed lotte became more settled in her new life, the face times and calls turning into occasional texts, and you began to work harder to catch the eyes of the scouts for the senior clubs, desperate to earn yourself a proper professional contract, and both of your abilities to respond to the texts within a time zone that suited one another and encouraged and fostered an actual meaningful conversation lessened.
and at neither of your own faults, gradually the contact between the two of you dropped off entirely, the only communications a thoughtful but generic message for a holiday or a birthday, and before either of you could blink three years had passed and you'd finally signed your first professional contract with the arsenal women's senior team, and lotte was nearing the commencement of her final year of college.
unbeknownst to both of you the other would occasionally pop into dreams or thoughts, and lottes fingers would hover over your contact, wondering how you were doing and longing to hear the sound of your melodious laugh, but then someone would interrupt and require her attention and her phone would be hastily slid back into her pocket, the thought lost as she busied herself with study, football or social commitments.
you also occasionally found yourself scrolling through lottes social media, smiling proudly at her accomplishments and wondering what life would have been like if you'd followed along beside them, and your finger would hover over the direct message icon, but then you'd glance at the time and realise if you didn't leave now you'd be late for training or the bus to the match and the thought would be lost, promptly filed right into the back of your mind. 
everything changed again the day that you found out lotte had been offered a professional contact with arsenal, and was due to start pre season training with the team in just a few days now her signing had been officially announced.
you had of course seen both lotte and alessia's  decision to leave UNC early and return to england due to the ever increasing lockdown restrictions, and you'd commented a few sympathetic red hearts on both posts but hadn't interacted much more than that.
so you found your stomach tied up with knots as you sat lacing up your boots for the first training session of the pre-season, unsure if you were excited or dreading seeing the girl who you'd once considered basically an extra limb given how tightly you were attached to one another at all times.
you heard her voice before you saw her, the girl embracing a few of the older girls who she knew through the national teams, her confident laugh echoing across the locker room as the head trainer blew his whistle and everyone hurried out to the pitch.
of course that meant that the two of you were now left alone, stood up and staring one another down from across the room.
she'd gotten taller since you last saw her, always having had a few inches over you but now she'd evidently grown effortlessly into the long limbs you used to tease her for tripping over like a clumsy baby deer.
the baby fat from her face had also gone, her jawline now sharp and clearly defined. but her eyes, her eyes still remained the same twinkling cheeky orbs you grew up with, and as the corners of her mouth tugged up into a soft smile, you realised that was yet another feature which remain unchanged.
lottes own mind was also in overdrive taking you in in person for the first time in almost a few years. you'd also had a little growth spurt and had grown into your ears, ears which lotte had often tugged on and teased you for as they'd stuck out from your hair. your dimples remained the same in both corners of your mouth, your button nose scrunching up slightly as you returned her smile, as did the galaxy of freckles which dotted along the curvature of your nose, though your hair was a lot lighter and your skin a bit more tanned than she remembered. 
but overall, you were both still just you.
the gap rapidly closed between you you'd embraced one another in a tight hug, exhaling deeply at the familiar warmth which filled both your stomachs at one another's touch. whispering soft i missed you's and the murmurings of gentle apologies for the distance which had fallen between the both of you.
however wordlessly you both knew you felt the same, that despite that distance which had grown, in the current moment where you stood wrapped up in one another's tight embrace, it felt just like old times, and as if nothing had ever really changed.
it took half a year of lingering hugs that lead to butterflies in stomachs, hearts racing from the seemingly harmless but intimate tracings of one another's skin as you lay together in hotel beds on away matches chatting about nothing and everything, before you and lotte both realised that maybe something had changed between the two of you during your time apart.
which was that you had both accidentally but hopelessly fallen head over heels for one another, though neither of you had quite realised this yet yourselves despite almost everyone around you catching on immediately.
it was the longing glances that you both hoped the other would never notice, the way you would both curl up together on the bus home from matches, tired and aching limbs intertwined as you took turns listening to playlists you'd both curated for one another, chatting away amicably about whatever tv show you were both hooked on.
eventually, not to say it was without a loving but firm push from your friends and team mates, these growing feelings of affection for one another were finally confessed aloud in the comfort and privacy of your shared east london flat. this was then followed shortly by an incredibly forced and awkward first date, the two of you deciding right in that moment that you knew one another far too well to need to put yourselves through that agonising first stage of dating.
and from then on the rest seemed to blur into a slideshow of your shared life and memories together, one you both made sure stayed as private as you wanted without the pressure of it being entirely hidden.
it was how you found yourself hand in hand with the taller brunette, the two of you wandering slowly down the beach in the sunshine coast of australia, toes shoved into the soft sand of the foreign country.
both of you selected for your national teams World Cup squad you as a couple were overcome with joy and pride that it was an adventure you would get to experience right by one another's side.
"g! delete those, give the poor girls their privacy they've clearly gone off by themselves for a reason." keira shoved at her best friends shoulder as georgia snapped a series of photos of the two of you without your knowledge.
"what! its not like I'm gonna post them anywhere im just capturing the moment keira, ill send them the pictures and they can do as they please with them." the blonde rolled her eyes and placed the camera back around her neck, turning to watch the glorious sunset which was evolving before their very eyes, sending the sky a dizzying array of coral pinks and bright pops of daisy yellow and burnt orange.
"are we discussing mrs and mrs wubben-moy's impending wedding then!" ella appeared with a joking grin, dropping down on the soft sand in front of the pair, alessia not far behind as keira chuckled at her words.
you both of course were not engaged however it was a running joke within the team that it was an unnecessary step due to the fact you both behaved practically like an old married couple. 
"ive never met two people so practically perfect for one another, it's both really really lovely and really really disgusting." lucy piped up from the other side of georgia as the rest of the girls hummed in agreement, exchanging soft smiles as unbeknownst to you and your girlfriend they watched on fondly.
"hey!" lotte shouted with a gasp as you broke away from her, dropping her hand and playfully kicking water toward the older girl, dousing her legs and shorts with tiny droplets. "oh I'm so sorry love I tripped!" you gasped with an innocent smile, rapidly stepping backwards away from her as she advanced toward you with an amused shake of her head.
"lots no it was one small splash, please!" you begged as she quickly caught you, long arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you off your feet as you kicked and tried to pull away from her, the defender repeatedly threatening to drop you as she slowly waded deeper and deeper into the calm patch of sea.
"you do that and you'll be single before the kick off of this tournament wubben-moy!" you warned seriously as she faked dropping you, tightening her hold and jogging back into the shallower water, placing you back down on your feet on the sand with a cheeky grin as you smacked at her chest. 
"not the last name!" the brunette feigned a grimace of pain as she clutched at her heart and you rolled your eyes at her dramatic antics, a smile unable to be stopped gradually spreading across your face. "honestly babe you could quit football for acting." you clapped sarcastically as the two of you turned around and began the slow walk back toward the rest of your friends.
"now that's much better." lotte smiled, hands placing themselves on your cheeks and dipping her head to press her lips to your own, the sweet moment broken up by wolf whistles and jeers echoing across the beach from your friends. 
ella and alessia making kissy faces at the both of you your cheeks flushed pink and you buried your face in your girlfriends neck, feeling her body vibrating with quiet laughter at the teasing, her hand comfortingly rubbing at your back as you both embraced one another tenderly for a moment before breaking apart and returning to the group, all of you heading back toward the hotel for dinner.
you were laid down on the bed of your hotel room not quite asleep but eyes closed and belly full from a delicious feed, spirits high from an evening filled with the buzzing excitement radiating off your friends and team mates to finally be here in australia.
after dinner both you and lotte had spent some time bonding with the team before quietly slipping out of the games room, alessia and ellie having to sit on top of ella to stop her racing after you as soon as she noticed your absence, the stubbornly hotheaded midfielder wanting to demand a rematch of table tennis after you'd beaten her several times throughout the night.
the two of you the same age she was also one of the girls you'd grown up closest to, especially after the others had departed for america and she too had chosen to stay behind
though things between the two of you were quiet, silence had never been something uncomfortable for either of you. even just as friends in your youth you forever felt safe, loved and heard when around lotte as she did around you. and though of course over the years you had the occasional squabble over something, you prided yourselves on being able to communicate diplomatically and honestly to solve the root of whatever problem had surfaced.
"hello." you mumbled out tiredly feeling the bed dip beside you as lotte laid down, sketchbook left open on the other bed as she just took a second to take you in, eyes scanning your sleepy features adoringly before she pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, you humming appreciatively at the sweet gesture.
you felt the older girl sit back up, your body tensing a little at the temperature shift as she gently lifted up the back of your top, a single finger tracing gently down the line of your spine. 
"my love may i please draw on your back?"
the request nothing new to you you simply made a noise of agreement, pushing your body up a little so lotte could properly tug your top so it sat hunched around your neck and you slumped back into the mattress, moving your arms to tuck securely under your head.
you felt lotte leave and heard her rummaging through her luggage for the correct supplies, eyes fluttering closed again as you exhaled deeply, nose twitching a few times as you did.
you heard the bed squeak slightly as lotte hopped back onto it, murmuring a quiet apology as she shuffled up the mattress toward your practically topless form and carefully settled her knees to rest either side of your hips.
"you can sit down baby it's fine." you breathed out, feeling how she was purposefully kneeling her body to hover just above yours, a hum returned in response before her weight actually settled down properly across the back of your thighs.
you tensed a little as you felt the first foreign touch of the marker on the exposed skin of your back, a gentle kiss placed behind your ear in apology as over time your body adjusted and the tension disappeared from your shoulders.
lotte humming something quietly to herself as she drew, the sound somehow only made you more tired, and before you knew it you'd peacefully dozed off. the older girl on top of you smiled at the action, heart melting at the relaxed expression on your face and the way your eyebrows would knit together every now and then, a silent way to confirm you were off deep in a dream somewhere, one which she hoped was nothing but pleasant for you.
around an hour and a half later she'd finished, shuffling herself back a little and laying down on top of you, murmuring sweet nothings in your ear and pressing feather light kisses to the back of your neck. you felt warm hands gently caressing your sides as you awoke, blinking slowly to zone back in and stretching a little underneath her, your girlfriend uttering a teasing good morning into your ear as you turned your head and mumbled that you'd like her to kiss you properly now.
with a soft smile and a chuckle lotte manoeuvred her body off of yours, hands grabbing at your hips protectively to steady you as you sat up and stretched again almost falling off of the bed as you did so, your top coming back down to cover your previously exposed torso as you did.
"what time is it?" you asked rubbing at your eyes and shuffling closer to the taller girl, pressing your face into her shoulder as arms wrapped tightly around you, her hand once again coming to rub comfortingly at your back as she muttered an answer into your hair.
"can I see?" you pulled away from her and gestured to your back, much more awake now as lottes eyes lit up and she nodded, quick to slide off the bed and offer you a hand up. fingers interlocking the taller girl practically dragged you into the bathroom, standing you in front of the mirror and tapping gently at your ribs, signalling for you to take your top off.
"oh wow..." you trailed off wordlessly as you twisted around and gazed down with wide eyes at the intricate pattern adorning your tanned skin. "it's beautiful, you're so incredibly talented it never ceases to amaze me, you never cease to amaze me." you spoke softly, eyes locked through the mirror with the taller girl stood behind you whose cheeks blushed a little with colour at the sincere compliment.
"you're so beautiful, my beautiful girl." lotte murmured in response, hugging you tightly from behind and burying her face in your neck, eliciting a small chime of laughter from you as a few loose strands of her hair tickled at your nose.
"don't tell me you've gone shy." you teased gently, the older girl pulling her head out of your neck and glaring at you playfully, craning her head around to steal a few sweet kisses before you turned in her hold, the two of you wrapping one another up in yet another tight hug, bound so close together each could feel the others heartbeat.
and though the comments from your friend were meant teasingly, lucy had been right.
together the two of you really were a practically perfect pair.
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