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tossawary · 4 months

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One of my personal nitpicks for historical fantasy is a lack of servants, staff, subordinates, and... idk... subjects? Like, their absence is not... a total dealbreaker for me, depending on the situations the characters are in and whether or not I can just assume that other people are there in the background... but so many of the protagonists in historical fantasy stuff are higher-ranking (very often royalty), and/or have busy jobs, and/or have enormous houses that would necessitate having at least part-time staff.

Like, girl, you should have a maid! WHERE is your chaperone?! WHO is driving this carriage?! Where are your footmen? Are you trying to imply that a WEALTHY DUCHESS is taking a CAB?! You know that you probably have tenants, right? Where is your steward?! Where is your lawyer? Your accountant?! (Like, yeah, you're not going to have your lawyer living in your house, but you HAVE one, right???)

Or, man, you're supposed to be a military commander and you don't even have a single secretary?! Where is your SQUIRE?! (In the spirit of historical fiction, I am jumping wildly across time periods with every sentence here.) Man, I know you aren't looking after your own boots. Where are your GUARDS?! Who set up this tent for you?! Who is looking after your horse?! Who is making and carrying the incredibly valuable maps people are recklessly stabbing daggers into?!

SOMEONE has to be scrubbing these floors and delivering the mail and cooking the meals and doing laundry, and they're probably all DIFFERENT people! My dentist has at least three different receptionists and we can't even get ONE for our court wizard here? A sorcerer's apprentice to take notes? Someone like Sherlock Holmes could get away with just having a housekeeper and taking taxis, sure, but your character is supposed to be a KING?! Why is he answering his own front door? He's going to get assassinated. His SERVANTS should have SERVANTS.

Like, yes, I understand that a lot of servants in certain places at certain times were supposed to make their labor invisible, but there have always been servants who still had to interact directly with the masters of the house?! Yeah, there are potentially really messy ethics here, class divisions are bullshit, but I don't think that completely ignoring the reality that humans have ALWAYS been doing work for other humans is better than just including some well-paid and well-treated servants and employees? Because a complete absence of them, especially where logically for the worldbuilding there MUST be servants (and probably exploited servants, or worse, for some particular worldbuilds to work), often makes me think that your main characters just don't care enough to notice the "lower class" people or know their names.

Also, even Frodo Baggins had a gardener and Samwise Gamgee might be the best damn character in the story?! Sam saved the world?! Servants are PEOPLE. Servants are often the funniest and most interesting characters, tbh, with the most to say about a society and its workings (yes, Discworld is a very good book series, highly recommend), and also the joke of some romantic scene being carefully orchestrated by a stage crew of servants frantically diving into bushes to stay out of sight never gets old to me. Teamwork makes the dream work!

I don't want to gatekeep historical fiction, especially not historical fantasy, because the worlds don't necessarily have to conform to our own and may have magic and characters are often in very unique circumstances, but... sometimes I pick up a story and it's like... "Author, please tell me that you know there is a difference between a butler and a valet?!"

#tossawary reading #tossawary watching #I don't know what to tag this as #tossawary fandom #long post #where are your servants

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shinjisdone · 10 months

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When You Have An Secret Admirer - And It's Not Them (Diasomnia; 7)

A love letter was left at your door and now you are searching for that ‘secret admirer’ - everyone wants to help you out…but have their own reason for it.

'I can't give you the faboulus experience of an Fae nor can I give you the treasures of royalty...I'm sorry about that. But know that I can give you my entire heart.'

form of headcanons + scenario-ish

[note: reader is gender-neutral but mostly mentioned in 2. pov; a series of everyone you meet following you. headcanon will follow each char. own thoughts on the situation. mostly nervousness, slight jealousy & stubbornness]

Part 1: Heartslabyul

Part 2: Savanaclaw

Part 3: Octavinelle

Part 4: Scarabia

Part 5: Pomefiore

Part 6: Ignihyde

Weirdly enough nighttime was your comfort time.

An odd thing to name it, Malleus noted. You could only half-heartedly laugh as your eyes drifted to the ground. You could barely listen to his ramblings of gargoyles.

In fact, you were somewhat...relieved. Malleus and in this case all of Diasomnia haven't...done anything. No cheating. No corruption. No overblot.

Not yet at least.

There wasn't a single thing to dislike about them, aside from their little ego boost they get when they show off their power. It's true most students of that dorm are highly talented nobles and nobility tends to get arrogant. Surely they couldnt be such an eyesore, right?

Could your secret admirer do anything to them?

Lillia Vanrouge

That'd be a foolish decision.

Lillia is surprisingly one of the last people to get wind of these things. Both Kalim and Cater weren't so talkative of what happened in their dorms when he meets with them in their club. In Cater's case, Riddle insists on not talking about the 'criminal' so rumors wouldn't spread and Kalim was surprisingly dejected at the mention of the secret admirer.

A secret admirer, eh?

Oh, how exciting that sounds. Lillia didn't know young people were still into that old courtship tradition.

Though he has heard they aren't really your typical, run-of-the-mill admirer...

Even for Fae standards that is...woof.

And they have their eye, heart, admiration and affection all for you? Little Prefect of Ramshakle dorm and Malleus' friend?

Well, that makes perfect sense. Lillia couldn't imagine anyone else being the target object of affections, especially when someone is this determined to show their love.

On one hand he is happy for you. You deserve all this attention for you are such a cutie human. But on the other hand...eeeehh, perhaps such a person would not really suit you, no?

I mean, even Lillia finds them a tad bit odd and maybe extreme.

The father-like blood in him causes him to worry. He is of course worried about you but especially about Silver and Malleus. The latter won't like that his favorite human is...well, getting attention in such a way.

And Silver? Poor boy probaby doesn't know what to do with himself.

Oh, my. Perhaps he should offer a helping hand.

Sebek Zigvolt

What is the meaning of THIIIIIISSS

The last one of the first years to catch up.

Literally did not notice a single thing until the squad straight up told him + he needed the extra confirmation from Lillia. What do you mean you had a secret admirer from the very start?

Your strange behaviour? Sebek shurgged it off, probably just the change of the weather.

Things going haywire in the other dorms? Well, obviously. They aren't as great and organized as Diasmonia and have no great WAKA-SAMAAA in their circle.

Admirer shenanigans? Pah, nothin' but rumors.

BUt the MOMENT Lillia or Malleus tell him of these things he just IMMEDIATELY believes them.

WH-wh-wh-WHaAT??? :O Waka-sama you are so smart for noticing these things! OH, you are like a royal detective, the Sherlock Holmes of faes to-

Wait, everybody already knows?

.-.

A bit...stumped and confused. You...got a secret admirer? And judging from all the things he has heard and all the lasting consequences he has seen in the dorms...it's quite serious too, isn't it?

huh

WelL; whAt does the matters of a hUmAN concern him ANYWAY??? YOU Aren't Waka-sama nor Lilia-sama so...who cares??? Sebek doesn't. Nope. Not one bit.

The others try as they may but Sebek gives the entire thing the cold shoulder. He doesn't care, that is your problem. If anything, aren't humans usually super happy when they have a secret admirer? You should concider yourself grateful.

The squad tells him, no, this isn't something to be thankful for nor something to ignore. This is serious and complicated and none of them can just leave you alone in this.

Sebek supposes that makes sense...

But well, he...he can't show he cares...because he doesn't. No.

Silver

Also kind of the last one to catch up. Mostly because he literally slept on it.

Well, techincally it is not of his concern. It doesn't interfere with his classes, his training or when it comes to protecting Malleus, though the latter seems to be concerned.

He can't deny his worries...and understands them, too. You are a great friend to Malleus and to Silver as well.

Of course. It makes sense that you have a secret admirer. You are to be admired for all that you are. All that you have gone through as a magicless student. Though is this attention truly...loving?

Does not have a single concern in his mind if Diasomnia will be humiliated next. His old man is nto concerned and therefore, he won't be either.

Silver is more worried about Malleus.

Additionally, you have to face these 'affections' all on your own...will you be alright? Perhaps you need protection?

Silver would gladly provide it...but he is unsure if he can just barge in and be part of this whole shenanigan.

Malleus Draconia

Funnily enough, Malleus is one of the first people to know about your admirer.

It was the night after the 'crime' was comitted at Heartslabyul. Lost in your thoughts you almost forgot that you promised Malleus to accompany him on your many night walks.

The prince noticed your stillness.

"I'm sorry, Tsunotarou," You gave him a nervous smile, "Something came up today and I think I need to...think it all through."

You cut the stroll short and excused yourself. Malleus had no problem and let you be, a bit surprised you'd ever find yourself in a pickle. "Certainly. Just know that you can always talk to me about your worries, Child of Man...or not if you don't prefer."

And so you were gone. And your strolls became shorter and shorter.

Out of worry, the fae went to Lillia and told him of his woes. His friend is...not as chipper as usual.

Lillia promises to keep an eye out...and lo and behold, as the news of the admirer became bigger and bigger and the things they caused out of love more vivid and vivid, Lillia told Malleus of what was really going on.

...Oh?

A...secret admirer?

He felt a bit uneasy at the thought...

He may not be present at everything nor up to date (it feels like not getting invited) but Malleus can tell that this way of courtship is...peculiar.

Was first surprised that traditional wooing was also executed by humans (your admirer IS human, right?) but oh my, not even faes are that...hm, let's say, determined and petty.

Thinks it's endearing but also pathetic. Winning your love does not need to revolve around the doom of other dorms, does it? Even when they have wronged you.

After all, you all made up. You wanted to and were the reason why everything was good between you and the dorms now, even though you are magicless.

Seems like this admirer does not know you well...not as well as Malleus does.

The prince has been quietly pondering ever since, cradling his chin in thought. Lillia watches in anticipation.

My, this is strange.

Lillia has been watching from the sidelines for quite a bit...but he got the feeling that today was especially peculiar.

Making his way to the entrance of the dorm he absent-mindedly told Silver of his mild woes to which the lad immediately insistend on accompanying his father. Usually the fae would decline and say it isn't a big deal...but maybe Silver should witness it, too.

The student followed worriedly as Lillia seemed to...go up and down and all around the entire dormitory. He knew he was old but old enough to know the entire building like the back of his hand? Where are they going anyway, it feels like entering a labyrinth.

The wind blew high and dark clouds swirled around. Just as Silver wanted to ask what they are doing on the roof, Lilia seemed to have caught something right before it went down the chimney. The fae barely waited to be back in his room and opened up the letter right then and there.

'Nighly walks can make one sick, Draconia.'

What a way to start off a greeting.

Lilia

Oh my, my, my, MY!

Alright, his gut was right then.

Lilia wasn't planning on interfering, really...but this won't do.

Passive-aggressive jealousy towards Malleus and therefore the entirety of Diasomnia cannot be ignored.

It's kind of a shame really. This secret admirer seemed so passionate but it also looks like their negative traits are passionately expressed as well.

They just had to succumb to their weakness...love really makes people complicated. Or commit awful things unnecessarily.

Silver already knows and he trusts him. However, it's best if you and Sebek don't get the news...you are heavily involved as the admired and Sebek can get uuhhhh...maybe even more passionate than the admirer themselves.

Unsure how to approach Malleus though. The lad also feels quickly challenged...

Silver

An emergency!

Silver is ready to draw his sword. It must be one of these messaged threats to royals he has heard about! In fact, it reminds him of the tale of the Thorn Fairy...

Nevertheless he keeps his cool, following Lilia. However, he can't help but stick close to Malleus in general...glimpsing at him in worry.

As a matter of fact, his thoughts then flow over to you. While the message was meant for Malleus and is certainly no love letter, he still worries about you. If Malleus has to deal with something akin to jealousy and well, a threat (thats what he sees it as for sure, Lilia is a bit more amused even in his concerns) what must you be feeling being the object of affection?

How long will you play that role? Are you comfortable? Unsure? Unsafe? It is such a complicated issue, one that does not need to go over such lengths...

If only your admirer were normal...

Hm, no...maybe no. Maybe that still wouldn't calm Silver entirely.

As a knight he does not have a good feeling about this. He decided he will protect Malleus and you. The crown prince is being threatened and you seem more like a damsel in distress rather than a blushing maiden to him anyway...

Just how is Silver going to approach this? Just start hanging around you like a guard?

He got the feeling he might start having bad dreams about this...

Sebek

As much as Lillia tried to keep this a secret, Sebek of course butts heads and shoves his nose wherever needed when it comes to the well-being of Malleus.

WH-WHA-WHAT? A-AN EMERGENCY! A THREAT! AN ENEMY! WE NEED TO FIND THEM ASAP!!!

Is quick to panic and will drop everything to find the 'enemy'. No one will get past him to WAKA-SAMA!!!!

Unlike Silver, Sebek is unfortunately too emotional to control himself and will quickly blame you for having this 'secret admireeeer' of yours who only causes trouble! Don't you know?! They want Waka-sama's head! (An exaggeration)

This of course leads to the word being spreak quite quickly. Huh? The dormleader of Diasomnia got a letter? Bullying? No, threats? THE crown prince? What's going on?

Great job, Sebek, now everyone knows.

The student quickly clams up and starts feeling guilty for pointing his finger at you and barking up the wrong tree. Silver and Lilia are quick to tell him that this isn't your fault and that just adds to his guilt.

Yet...it is your secret admirer's fault. They are the one causing trouble, they are the one envying Waka-sama, they are the one trying to win your heart.

He's all over the place and so are his feelings. Sebek is trying to do the right thing but it isn't going as swell as he hoped he would.

If only that admirer never had the courage to show you their love and none of this would be happening. If only things could have stayed the way they have.

Malleus

Thanks to tattletale Sebek, Malleus swiftly heard of this 'bullying' as some students have asked him about and demanded Lillia to show him this so-called 'threat'.

Re-reading the one sentence over and over again, Malleus couldn't help but laugh. He first chuckled, then chortled before straight up letting out a guffaw.

"Nightly walks makes one sick, eh?" He mockingly repeats. There's something about this letter that hinders him from crumbling or throwing it away. Looking at it a second longer, Malleus insisted on keeping it.

Wouldn't matter if it did go missing. The prince can easily recall the threat as if it were a spell.

The fae can't deny it. The thought of you having a secret admirer irked him. It made absolute sense that someone else notices your quaint self and so he held himself back. As long as you were happy.

But now this petty student thinks they can just challenge him? Tell him to stop spending time with you?

All the while spitting out the name 'Draconia'. He could read the venom out of it.

How funny. They think Malleus will listen? Set aside his own feelings and just - stop being your friend? Sever your bond and accept defeat as if he had no chance whatsoever?

Pathetic little worm.

[welp, this is the last one. i saw many wondering who the admirer might be and...its not what you think. not malleus. think of anyone and you are wrong. its no one from rsa either. sooo...will be taking a break now and instead take requests. after that another project with the secret admirer will be started before they finally and officially confess to you...]

#twst #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twst #twisted wonderland #secret admirer #diasomnia #twst x reader #lilia vanrouge #twst silver #sebek zigvolt #malleus draconia #twst scenarios #gender neutral imagine #twst headcanons

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weeb-polls-with-pip · 4 months

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Autistic Anime Boys Prelims - Propaganda Division - Group 6

Propaganda:

Kiriwo -

"Seems innocent at first and he's just a guy with a special interest in magic items, but watch out."

Arjuna -

"MASKING KING!!!!!! ok joke aside one of his biggest things is that he's super scared that if anyone gets too close to him they'll notice he's not perfect/has a 'secret darkness' (that's literally just a guy) and overall a lot of his storyline is a strong parallel for being neurodivergent and becoming more comfortable with accepting it. he's also super strict and hard on himself for any sort of failure that isn't in line with what's socially appropriate but at the same time he doesn't always have a good grasp on what that is which is how you get stuff like him blowing up a forest to try and impress someone. it also runs in his family bc his brother is autistic as hell too."

Sherlock -

"God, where do I start? I mean what Holmes adaptation, even if he's not the main character, would this be if he were not autistic coded? And our combo of autism and ADHD is absolute perfection, all tied up with a pretty, excitable face. Hit him with the crime hyperfixation and do not make him wear socks."

Apollo -

"Not canonically autistic but he has ZERO volume control plus he scripts/repeats stuff (“I’M FINE!!!”), sometimes mimics other people’s speech patterns (like replying “ja” to Klavier), sensitive to loud noises (stayed backstage at a concert cuz it was too loud) and bright lights (complained about the stage lights being too bright at the same concert + screamed when opening the hatch to the bright stage at magic show), and has been really into space since he was a kid, which could definitely be a hyperfixation (not to mention how he read every single one of Phoenix’s old case files back when he admired him). Plus he’s a little TOO normal, to the point where it circles back around to making him the odd one out, which is absolutely what masking feels like for me. Even when he tries to be fun and weird he gets strange looks/made fun of for not being weird in the right way. The list of autism symptoms is just a checklist for him at this point."

Heiji -

"90% of the cast in detective conan is autistic but heiji is the most autistic of them all."

Urara -

"Another alien who is so excited to dance with everyone that he does not understand that his intended purpose of inviting people to dance via water communication is brainwashing them into dancing and is causing extreme chaos. He nearly causes an apocalypse by being so excited about dancing but he apologizes and tries to make friends with Yuki at the end of the story. He is extremely soft spoken and try, finding it difficult to begin conversations and fidgeting."

Shu -

"speaking specifically about the first season but he was the "explains everything so the audience knows whats happening" guy. he was pretty antisocial (not sure if thats just how he was or if he lived alone [which was fucked up cause he was 11]) . im trying to think of more but my brain goes hghghhhggggh im just a big fan of him."

Vash -

"ain’t no way i’m the only one who’s submitted him. go look at the gif of him crawling in the dirt like a bug while he dodges bullets and get back to me."

Hyakkimaru -

"Due to a terrible curse he has lived his whole life without several body parts including his eyes and ears. Because of this he is often overstimulated and awkward in new situations (when he doesn't do what he does best, killing monsters and samurai with his sword arms) He can't say or express much, and often comes off as strange and creepy, but he is actually a cutie patootie full of emotions, has a big heart, a keen brain, endless inner strength and loves the people close to him! This adorable, cursed, demon slaying boy deserves everything!"

Kei -

"He has the tbh face. Also he canonically has sensory issues and gets sensory overload. He constantly wears earbuds. He has an extremely rigid sense of morality and considers himself a savior figure. He has a hard time relating to other people and is a bit awkward in his interactions."

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ellethespaceunicorn · 10 months

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Sometimes The Silence Guides A Mind

Title: Sometimes The Silence Guides A Mind

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Fandom: Enola Holmes series

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: As you were getting close to Sherlock, he stops visiting. You pop over to Baker Street and share an eye-opening moment.

Warnings: age gap(reader is about 20 in this, Sherlock is mid-30s), slight voyeurism, masturbation (male), handjob, unprotected p-in-v sex (wrap it up y’all), creampie

A/N: I’ve been throwing around this idea about Sherlock for quite some time. I hope you enjoy it. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

You’ve been friends with Enola for a short time, only since the beginning of the year. She’s led you on a few fun adventures, but more often than not, she’s led you on wild goose chases. She has helped you come out of your shell and you are grateful for that. On days that you weren’t exploring the countryside or causing a ruckus in the city, you would lounge around her large house.

Spending time with her in her large house had its benefits. One of which was 6’1 with a head of unruly curls. The famous Sherlock Holmes was your best friend’s big brother. He lived in the city but came to visit Enola every week.

You always made sure to be available on those days. If only for the chance to say hello to Sherlock. You wanted more but, truth be told, he made you a bit nervous.

You tried your best to keep calm when he would arrive, but Enola noticed your demeanor change every time. She teased you endlessly about your little crush and you would always bring up Tewkesbury. That would usually shut her up.

In truth, she did not care that you liked her brother, she just didn’t want you to waste your time. The man was not exactly sociable unless he found value in the opinions of others. One opinion he respected was that of his sister. You could sit and watch them talk for hours. She would get him to laugh with her jokes, and he would bring her to annoyance with his riddles.

You would interject a thought here and there and when Sherlock would give his attention to you, you froze. Something about the look in his eyes, it was more than attention. It was intense as if the two of you were the only ones in the world let alone the room.

More than once, Enola had cleared her throat loudly to get you and Sherlock’s attention back on her. But sometimes, she would just listen to you ramble on while Sherlock seemed enthralled in your thoughts. You mused about music and how interesting you thought his cases were. The more you spoke with him, the more comfortable you felt around him.

Sherlock would show up now and then with little trinkets from his cases. At first, it was just things for Enola, but soon he would start bringing you little gifts as well. He started small with a single flower or a tasty treat from his favorite bakery. But soon, his gifts grew oddly specific. He bought you a brooch you had mentioned seeing at a store in the city. He would learn pieces of music from a composer you talked about and play it for you, much to the chagrin of Enola who wasn’t a fan of the violin.

It was when he didn’t visit for two weeks that you started to realize you were developing feelings for the older detective. You’d come to enjoy his presence and not because of his gifts. You just enjoyed seeing his face light up when he saw you. You relished the power you felt when the normally unflappable and distant man would sit enthralled when you gave voice to your thoughts.

So, why did it stop so suddenly? Had you done something to offend him?

You wracked your brain and Enola’s brain for that matter. She gave you his address so you could go and talk to him and she could finally be free of your fretting.

You arrive at 221 Baker Street, your hands trembling as you knock on the main door. A sweet woman opens the door and introduces herself as Ms. Hudson. When you ask to speak to Sherlock, she sends you up the steps to 221B.

As you’re about to knock, a man opens the door and almost collides with you.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. May I help you, Miss?”

“Ehm, I’m here to see Mr. Holmes…but I can come back if that’s–” You are cut off when he speaks again.

“You wouldn’t happen to be friends with Enola, would you?” You nod, giving your name, “Of course, Sherlock mentioned you. I’m Dr. John Watson, and I have to be going but you are more than welcome to come in. Sherlock is just in his room down the hall.” He points around the corner from the door and walks past you before waving goodbye.

So, that’s how you end up in Sherlock’s apartment. It is eerily quiet and you think he might be asleep. That is until you hear soft moans coming from down the hall. Your first thought is it must have been the floorboards creaking under your feet.

What you hear next is the unmistakable sound of your name followed by a whimper. It sounded like Sherlock was calling to you, but how would he know you were here already? You walk down the hallway quietly and see that his bedroom door is slightly ajar.

Peeking in, you are blessed with a sight! Sherlock is laid out on his bed with his shirt and waistcoat open, his hairy chest on full display as it rises and falls quickly. His beautiful face constricted in pain one second, solemn and peaceful in the next. His curls are a sweaty mess on his forehead. One hand is fisting the sheets at his side and the other hand is wrapped around his thick veiny dick. You’re mesmerized watching him stroke himself until you hear him moan your name again.

In a moment of bravery, you step into the room. Your bosom heaves in your bodice as you breathe shallowly, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

His hand stops its ministrations and he looks to you as you walk towards him. He’s frozen on the spot and can only watch you as you climb atop the bed and lay next to him. You replace his hand with yours and continue to pump his dick. Your hand barely fits around him and you enjoy the feel of his soft uncut length in your hand.

His hands come up to caress your face and pull you down for a kiss. When his tongue begs for entry, you allow it in. Heatedly, you mold your mouth to his, letting your moans and whimpers be consumed by him. Breaking the kiss, he looks into your eyes and you can tell he is close.

You remove your hand from him and stand up from the bed. It is only when you remove your undergarments does Sherlock understand why you stopped. Climbing back on the bed, you settle yourself with your cunt dripping onto him.

“I want you to be certain that you–” You cut him off as you slink down, his velvety smoothness sliding inside your wet heat. You take a moment to get used to the sheer size of him. He stretches you almost painfully. Leaning down, you whisper into his ear.

“Do I seem certain, Mr. Holmes?”

Instead of an answer, Sherlock groans and twitches inside you. His hands travel under your skirt and rest on your hips. You take that as a sign and sit up. With your hands on his chest, you begin to ride him slowly, agonizingly to the point where his hands start to guide you to a quicker pace.

Using you like a ragdoll, he flips you so he is atop you while you are on your back. He slams into you repeatedly and you are no longer in control. He savors the sounds coming from you as he fucks into you. He urges you on as he kisses and licks and nips at your neck, careful not to leave any marks.

Pulling out, he moves you to your hands and knees before inserting himself again. The angle allows him to go deeper and you thank the Gods for it. As he holds onto you, he hammers into you. The filthy utterances that come from his mouth only serve to solidify the notion that he missed you too.

“I knew you would feel like Heaven, my sweet angel…”

“This pretty pussy belongs to me now…”

“You would look so perfect with my cum dripping out of you…”

“I could fuck you all day and night and still never get enough of you…”

“Be my good angel and come all over my cock,” He reaches down and rubs your clit between two fingers as he plows into you. You never stood a chance, your walls quivering around him within moments, “That’s my good girl. So good…for me. Fuck, so close!”

“Sherlock, please! Need you to fill me with all you have to give!” You surprise yourself and your lover with those words.

Sherlock’s answering grunts as he makes mincemeat of your pussy are music to your ears. His punishing thrusts falter and he pulls you flush to him. He’s deep enough to kiss your cervix with the tip of his dick. You feel him swell inside you and it’s enough to make you climax again, milking him through his release.

And the noises he makes when he comes are more intricate than the 24 Caprices. You’re sure that Sherlock would disagree but you don’t even care. You revel in the melody of his moans and surrender to its hold on you.

Sherlock’s hands roam over your back, your hips, your ass, and your thighs. As if he can’t get enough of you. He doesn’t pull out until you wiggle your hips, a sign that your legs are tired. Extricating himself from your sensitive folds allows his spend to escape. He catches what slips free and pushes it all back in before helping you lay down on your front.

He lays down next to you, pulling you close to him with one arm while the other rests behind his head. He looks so peaceful as he closes his eyes and hums. The feminine urge for pillow talk is high, but so is the need to just bask in this moment.

You’re in the arms of the man you care for, who also adores you. You rest your cheek on his shoulder and tangle your fingers in his chest hair. You breathe in his smell, his pheromones are surely on high alert from your activity. When he rests his head against yours, you feel at peace.

You do plan on talking to Sherlock later about everything. But, for now, you can take pleasure in the simplicity of the harmonization of your heartbeats.

A/N: The title of this fic is taken from The Neighborhood’s Sweater Weather. There is an amazing violin version of this song by Joel Sunny. And anything violin makes me think of Sherlock.

A/N: Also, I know Ms. Hudson wasn't featured in Enola Holmes, but I love her as a character and I wanted to use her.

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describe-things · 2 months

Note

Question: why are ids in alt text less accessible?

A few reasons.

#1 being that Tumblr is incredibly glitchy and unreliable, and change things all the time without telling anyone. ALT text can be randomly deleted while making a post, or might just disappear after a few reblogs. It's also usually in incredibly small text, and, up until recently, had a neon purple background with white text, which is the exact opposite of accessible.

People who don't have screenreaders can have a hard time reading it because it's so small or because of whatever colors they choose to use for it at the moment (which could change at any time without warning), and that's assuming tumblr doesn't glitch and remove it, which kept happening a lot. It seems to be working fine as of February 15 2024 (for people reading this post in the future), but as we all know, tumblr is a hellsite, and this time next year it might be an unusable mess.

Plain text on the other hand, is a lot less likely to glitch, can't easily be deleted once a post has been reblogged, and is much more accessible to everyone who needs it, including those with screenreader access and those without.

It's also unfortunately very common for the "Image descriptions" in alt text to either be completely wrong, or missing vital information.

A really blatant example off the top of my head is someone posting a cover for a Sherlock Holmes novel, with alt text available. If you don't need the ALT text or don't check, you're going to assume this post is accessible and fine to reblog...until you check the alt text and realize it's not a description of the book cover at all, it's a note about how the OP's father gave them the book for their x year birthday.

Another example is screenshots of tweets -- when you paste a link for a tweet into tumblr right now (February 2024), tumblr automatically converts it to an image and provdes automatic alt text transcribing the original tweet...

Except that alt text only transcribes the text in the tweet, it doesn't mention any images that are included, let alone describe them, and if you don't need alt text and don't check every time you reblog, you won't notice that half the information in this tweet is being outright hidden from people who can't see it.

Hope this helps explain it!

#image descriptions #accessability tools #accessability #asks #anonymous #anon

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dathen · 6 months

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Then my friend's wiry arms were round me, and he was leading me to a chair. “You're not hurt, Watson? For God's sake, say that you are not hurt!” It was worth a wound—it was worth many wounds—to know the depth of loyalty and love which lay behind that cold mask. The clear, hard eyes were dimmed for a moment, and the firm lips were shaking. For the one and only time I caught a glimpse of a great heart as well as of a great brain. All my years of humble but single-minded service culminated in that moment of revelation.

OOOOOOUUUUGHHHGH THERE IT IS THE LINES WE'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR

I have yet to see an aromantic analysis of this but now my brain and heart is overflowing with Many Thoughts brace yourselves

Look at the wording of this. This is not a character development moment for Holmes, but for Watson--a realization it took him far too long to come to, a glimpse that made him realize how deeply Holmes has cared for him all along. All his years alongside him culminating in a moment of revelation.

But to guage the significance of the revelation, we have to go back to the start--particularly, the start of this "Holmes is an unfeeling machine" viewpoint Watson has expressed so often.

In The Sign of Four, when Holmes admits to not noticing if Mary was attractive, Watson replies, "You really are an automaton-a calculating machine! There is something positively inhuman in you at times." Aromantic Holmes fans have talked about how deeply relatable this moment is--which of us haven't been compared to a machine for lack of the feelings we're supposed to have, or felt inhuman because of our alienation? It's painful to see Watson say this so bluntly, but their relationship doesn't stop there.

Over time, Watson understands that Holmes cares for and feels affection for him, but he seems to see himself as rather inconsequential to Holmes' life, no matter how many times Holmes insists he cherishes his company, no matter how many ways Holmes demonstrates how much he loves him. They're speaking different languages about what love means. This is also intensely relatable to aromantic people, especially neurodivergent ones like Holmes clearly is. (side note: It's been wonderful reading these stories alongside other nd fans who easily spot those demonstrations of love)

And then there's this moment is when Watson finally UNDERSTANDS. It takes Holmes trembling with fear over him being hurt, snarling with protective ferocity for it to hit how important he is to Holmes. We've been staring at what feels obvious the entire time, because he's like us, and then Watson says "For the one and only time I caught a glimpse" of it. Holmes isn't the one framed as needing to change--whether what his love is, or how he shows it. It's that Watson needs to understand and realize it's always been this way.

Swapping to Holmes' side: this line often comes up in conjunction with Holmes saying he's never loved in The Devil's Foot, as a way to disprove it or show that Holmes was lying for some reason. But I feel that Holmes' side of things is that he is not a murderous person. As this story shows, he had a gun to a man's head, his most beloved friend gets SHOT, and instead of pulling the trigger he just hits him with the gun instead. In Devil's Foot, Holmes is musing over this urge to kill out of revenge and concludes that his hesitation to kill is because of something he lacks: he's never been In Love, never been swept up in all the irrational impulsive floods of emotion he's observed stem from that. He's also never seen Watson shot and fear this deeply for his life.

For Holmes, the realization of this moment isn't being surprised at how much he loves Watson, but the realization that his own kind of love is capable of this murderous ferocity. It's not something inherently tied to the way Normal People (tm) fall in love--this is his Watson and his dearest friend and companion and confidant and life partner and he WILL tear someone limb from limb if they managed to kill him.

#letters from watson #the three garridebs #sherlock holmes #acd holmes #doctor watson #amatonormativity #aromantic #the devil's foot

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weast-of-eden · 24 days

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Victorian Holmes/Watson Murder Mysteries Fic Rec

aka people are DYING and you two are making out??? actually i just noticed that all of these have the explicit rating so not only are they making out they're getting busy while people are, again, DYING.

enjoy <3

The False and True by Rhuia 9k | Rated E Summary: Dead men tell no lies. The living do it for them. Based on a real murder. And just plain based.

Witness and Testimony by Violsva 11k | Rated E Summary: Men of certain dispositions should not take up residence with consulting detectives. Having done so anyway, Watson is finally forced to face the consequences. Not quite the consequences he expected, however. TFW your best friend’s boyfriend is framed for murder so you prove his innocence then take his man

The Case of the Kidnapped Corpses by Ferryman 10k | Rated E (No Summary) Holmes can you please stop almost killing yourself for the sake of a case you’re going to give your doctor a heart attack.

To see ourselves by Citrine (orphan_account) 9k | Rated E Summary: Victorian London - Odd notions of sexuality, Holmes' fetish and some unsolved murders. And men falling in love, even if they won't admit it. Me *opening this fic*: what is it finna play-- WOAH

#idk why i made this but if you like murder mysteries and old men shagging then this is the post for YOU #happy april everybody come and get yall's shmut #sherlock holmes #acd holmes #granada holmes #granada johnlock #acd johnlock #fic rec #acd johnlock fic rec #granada johnlock fic rec

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lazydoodlesandfanfic · 8 months

Text

Keeping Quiet (Sherlock & Mycroft X Deaf!Brother!Reader) *PLATONIC

Characters: Sherlock & Mycroft X Deaf!Brother!Reader

Universe: Sherlock

Warnings: Severe bullying, injuries, turf burn, mention of violence

Request: Hi, can I request?, a Holmes brother fic, where reader is their youngest brother who is in high school/university getting bullied bc their disability(mute/deaf) and how their deal with that situation, I kinda want reader to be a ball of sunshine who always smile but are sad inside and although they can see through his smile, they struggle to find a way to help them. 🥺

Your life from the get go has always been a little harder than other kids your age. For one, you were the youngest Holmes, which wasn’t necessarily a problem, though when you were born your eldest brother had already graduated university, and your other brother was a teenager not far from leaving school. With their own unique personalities, they struggled to connect you immediately, and you didn’t see them much as a young child. However, since starting Secondary school, they had become a bit more involved, especially since you had moved in with your eldest brother so you could attend a good school that was closer to him, however, you were still mostly by yourself, especially since how work driven both your brother’s were. Oh yeah, and the other thing that made your life a little harder- you were deaf.

A silent world was all you had known since birth, and because of that, you didn’t have to adjust to any change, instead you just learned to do things differently, like when trying to cross a road on a corner, you’d look at those around you to see if they were going to cross, knowing that if the road was clear and they didn’t move, they could hear a car coming. You never had speech therapy growing up, and since when growing up your parents and brothers always communicated with you with sign language, you never used your voice. To you, your hands were your voice, and the thing in your throat that let you make noises was only for dire emergencies to get immediate attention.

Right now, you were convinced this wasn’t an emergency, but you had the overwhelming urge to just scream as hard as you can. You wanted so badly to be heard, but feared backlash, either from your peers of your issues being perceived as fake or not nowhere near as bad as you felt they were, or backlash from the people who were making you feel like this.

You’d just gotten home from school, and you entered as quietly as you could, closing the door briskly and looking around, not sure if Mycroft was home, and you didn’t want to see him right now. You closed the front door, looking at the empty coat hook where you’d usually place your coat, except you didn’t have it with you, so instead you just kicked off your shoes and tried to head to your bedroom with your school bag. However, for obvious reasons, you hadn’t heard Mycroft and Sherlock bickering in the other room, or that they had promptly stopped when the front door shut loudly from how quickly you had shut, followed by your footsteps through the house at an accelerated rate to your bedroom, and the noise of your door being shut just as quickly as the front door. The two brothers stood in silence, staring in the direction of the noises before turning to face each other. “Something’s wrong.” Sherlock spoke up.

“I’m aware of that.” Mycroft scoffed, before they began to walk to go up the stairs. Sherlock stopped at the bottom though, though Mycroft continued up. Sherlock checked the entrance of the house, noticing your lack of coat, either meaning you were still wearing it or didn’t have it, and the droplets of water on the floor, as well as your school shoes being shiny and darker than usual, told him it was the latter. It hadn’t rained in the last hour. He finally followed after Myrcoft, who was already trying your door, though it was locked. He turned to Sherlock, and Sherlock’s eyes followed the wet droplet stains in the carpet to your door. “He’s locked himself inside.” Mycroft pointed out.

“Give me your credit card.” Sherlock demanded. Mycroft went into his back pocket, grabbing his wallet and going through it to hand him a card, before Sherlock shoved him out of the way, sliding the card through the door, pushing the lock out, and when it clicked open, he turned the handle opened the door enough to stick his hand in, reaching for the light switch, flicking the lights on and off in your room to get your attention. He didn’t get a reaction from you. No multiple knocks to signify he could enter, and not a singular knock for him not to come in. He waited another moment, before looking at Mycroft who at this point looked worried, fist pressed to his mouth. Sherlock opened the door further.

They didn’t see you when they first stepped into the room, but Sherlock noticed your school bag- wet through, soaking the carpet, dirty, the zip busted, a strap broken, several school books looking ready to fall out after being crammed in that were soggy and ruined. With that, he knew where you were- the small bathroom attached to your room. He walked to the shut door, trying the door, finding this one unlocked, and he slowly stepped in, looking down and to the side, seeing you sat on the floor, legs pulled to your chest, head resting on your knees.

“Mycroft, go make tea.” Sherlock said monotone, not taking his eyes away from you. Mcroft, who had noticed your bag and was trying to find anything to salvage, stood up straight, processing the situation, before turning and leaving the room. Sherlock slowly entered the bathroom, kneeling down before sitting on the floor beside you, carefully reaching out, lightly tugging on your soaked and dirty school jumper to get your attention. You peeked up, making eye contact, your eyes red and as wet as your uniform. Sherlock didn’t need to ask what happened, and you didn’t need him going on a revenge campaign in your honour, at least not yet. Instead, he signed ‘I’ll run you a hot bath, and you get undressed. Are you hurt?” You sniffed, signing a yes, before you started to take off your jumper, pulling it over your head, and Sherlock’s eyes immediately took notice of the wet white material that had stains of red on your arms, and as he looked closer, he saw your hands, and presumably your forearms as well were scraped up and red raw. Sherlock took your jumper from you, standing up, before signing to you again. “Drop them just outside the door when you’re done.” He said, turning to the bath, plugging the drain, and turning on the taps, before leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.

Mycroft arrived shortly after with a tray, cup of tea and snacks as well, placing it on your bedside table. “What happened?” Mycroft asked.

“He’s been bullied. I’m not sure what happened, maybe he tried to bring up what was happening or tried to stand up for himself, but it escalated outside of school- his uniform needs to be cleaned and died- where’s your first aid, he’s scraped up as well.” Sherlock listed. Mycroft’s mouth open and closed repeatedly, before he spoke.

“I-I didn’t know.” He stuttered. “He never… he never told me he was having issues at school. I had no idea.” He explained, and Sherlock frowned.

“I didn’t know either.” Sherlock added. It wasn’t a lot to say, but it made Mycroft feel so much better. If Sherlock didn’t notice something was wrong until now, then there was practically no way for Mycroft to see either. You hid it, and you hid it well. You hid it from the best.

“I’ll call the school administration and organise a meeting with them. I’ll find out who did this.” Mycroft decided, reaching out and taking the jumper from Sherlock. “I’ll also get the first aid” he commented, turning and leaving the room again. Sherlock stood in your room, not moving, and he waited until he heard the bath water turn off, the door open, your clothes hit the floor and the door shut again before he turned and went and grabbed the clothes, taking them to be washed with your jumper. Sherlock heard Mycroft on the other side of the house, yelling on the phone about repercussions, demanding a meeting tomorrow, even if it’s the weekend, before his voice became louder, him walking into the same room with Sherlock, wordlessly giving him the first aid before leaving again to continue his argument, and Sherlock headed back upstairs to your room.

He peeked into your room, seeing you had gotten out, dried off and dressed into your pyjamas, sitting on the edge of your bed. He flashed the lights again to get your attention before stepping in, coming and sitting down on your bedside, carefully taking your hands, rolling up the sleeves to properly see the scrapes and turf burn, which made him wince, imagining the pain in the bath, even though you didn’t make a peep. You didn’t make sound despite the pain, and that really, really bothered him. He wordlessly cleaned them and bandaged them, before signing to you “Are you hurt anywhere else?” You nodded, crawling deeper into the bed so your legs were rested on it, and Sherlock pulled your pant legs up to your knees, seeing even more turf burns, and he copied what he did with your hands, pulling the legs back down when he was done, before he pushed the medical equipment away from him, and waited in front of you till you looked at him. “Why didn’t you tell us?” He signed to you, speaking the words along with it. All he got was a shrug, which Sherlock was not going to accept. “Did they threaten you?” He added. You looked away, before finally signing.

“It wasn’t too bad. I could handle it, I didn’t want to worry you. But I think someone else reported what they saw and they thought it was me.” You explained to him.

“So if it wasn’t reported, you hadn’t planned to tell us?” Sherlock questioned.

“It wasn’t a big deal.” You signed, clearly frustrated, which was paralleled by Sherlock.

“Well it is now. We’re your brothers, your family. If something bothers you, you tell us, even if you’re annoyed at the way light reflects through a window, or how they’ve changed the packaging on a product in the shops, you tell us. Even if you think it’s harmless or not a big deal, we’d rather you told us about little things instead of hiding things until they become huge things. This is huge now, and we’re going to deal with it.” His signing firm and almost exaggerated. You’d never seen someone yell via sign language, yet here Sherlock was, somehow finding a way to do it, and it was pretty effective.

“Okay. I’m sorry.” You quickly apologised to try and calm him down, which seemed to work.

“How long has this been going on? How many of them are there, and what are their names? Tell me everything.”

A few minutes later, Mycroft finally got off the phone, pacing for a minute to plan his next actions- deciding if he needed to call someone else, or go and check on you, but then Sherlock came into the room, and handed him a piece of paper, with names, examples of what each person did and their role in the attack, and how long it had been going on with a short timeline of other incidents. “I trust this is enough to start with?” Sherlock asked, watching as Mycroft skimmed over it.

“This has been going on since he started secondary school?” Mycroft questioned, Sherlock briskly nodded, before tapping the paper to make him focus again. “Yes. This is enough. I’ll locate their parents and addresses, gather more information, I’ll have people look into CCTV to see if we can catch any footage of them following, chasing or… attacking him.” Mycroft explained, folding the paper up, before tucking it into his pocket. “How is he?”

“He’s going to be sore for a while, keep an eye on his injuries- maybe take him to the doctor just to have it on record. He’s not very talkative at the moment, but we really need to get him to start talking to us more about things happening to him. If he’s ever quiet around you, try and engage him and ask about what he’s thinking about, get him out of the habit of keeping everything locked up. Leave the addresses to me. I’ll personally make sure they get the letters about the police investigation when you have it ready.” Sherlock said, walking to the entrance of the house, Mycroft followed him, watching his younger brother grab his coat, swing it around him and put it on.

“Sherlock, do not threaten them- it’ll not be good for the investigation.”

“I have no intention of threatening children, Mycroft. But I will make sure the point is put across that those parents have done an awful job and that they shouldn’t have messed with Y/N.” Sherlock promised, before promptly leaving. Mycroft huffed after the door shut, glancing up the stairs, before deciding to make a fresh hot drink for you to get started with a conversation with you.

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

TAGS: @holy-tea-cup-blog @sassy-specter@keenmarvellover @multifandomfix @sleutherclaw @otterly-fey @rebellionofthecattle @hello-love-youre-pretty @werosemagic @courtneychicken @graysonmalfoy @bellero @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lady-of-lies @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines @huntheimpossible @automaticbakeryfreakshoe

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raina-at · 11 months

Text

I owe you another ficlet, so here it is. It was written for the brekfast challenge, and I think there's a longer story in this, so maybe I'll return to this one day. Meanwhile, have a ficlet.

It’s been eleven days since Sherlock Holmes jumped off a building. Three days since the funeral. One since John stood by Sherlock’s grave and begged him not to be dead.

There’s a constant fog of unreality in John’s head. The world seems muffled, far away, slowed down. He has a difficult time telling day from night, dream from waking, truth from fiction.

The worst thing is the numbness. There’s a well of pain right inside John somewhere, but he can’t feel it. He can’t feel much of anything.

Mrs Hudson sobbed into his shoulder at Sherlock’s funeral, but John has yet to shed a single tear. He knows it’s self-protection, that something inside of himself has shut down to prevent him from breaking.

It’s not pleasant, but it keeps him alive. Barely.

He forces himself to eat when people are around, and he gets a few hours of fitful sleep, but he’s losing weight rapidly and the dark circles around his eyes are getting more pronounced. Nobody’s said anything to him yet, but he knows it’s a matter of time before he’ll get a kindly-meant intervention from Greg, Molly and Mrs Hudson.

He thinks of leaving. Just getting on a train or plane or boat and disappearing somewhere he can waste away in peace. The thought is comforting.

But he knows today will not be this day when he gets a text from Mycroft Holmes summoning him to a breakfast meeting at a coffee shop around the corner of the Diogenes club.

John knows it’s pointless to refuse.

So he goes. It’s a nice day, and he walks.

He gets there ten minutes late, but Mycroft isn’t here. He gets in line to order a coffee and a scone. If he’s here already he might as well eat.

He orders, then waits for the barista to make his coffee.

She seems vaguely familiar. Red hair, freckles, tattoos.

“John?”

He looks up. She smiles at him. Hands over his drink. Holds his eyes. “Here,” she says, winking at him. “I think this is what you asked for.”

He looks down at the cup and sees she’s put her phone number down. He smiles politely. He couldn’t be less interested if he tried.

“Don’t call right away,” she says, winking again, then turns to the next customer.

Mycroft isn’t here yet, so John decides he doesn’t want to wait and leaves.

He sips at the coffee as he wanders back to Baker Street.

The coffee has grown cold by the time he’s back in the flat. He wanders into the kitchen to throw the cup out.

That’s when he notices there’s writing under the phone number.

John

07975777666

And below that, in a handwriting he’d recognise blind, backwards and under water, two words:

Vatican Cameos

The cup hits the floor as John’s knees buckle.

The coffee seeps into the kitchen rug as John stares at the cup, at the two words. He thinks of the barista. He recognises her now. She was one of the people who held him back from Sherlock’s body when he fell.

It takes him ten minutes to realise that he’s crying, that the tears are falling freely now, that the knot of numbness and pain in his chest is finally dissolving. He’s shaking with it, with big, heaving sobs that shiver through his entire body.

Alive, alive, alive.

Mrs Hudson finds him there, sobbing and shaking on his knees, and she holds him while he cries.

She thinks it’s grief.

He knows it’s relief.

*-*

It’s midnight and he can’t stand it any longer.

He tore the flat apart looking for the Adler woman’s phone because he knows he can’t use his own. His charger wouldn’t fit, so he had to go out and buy a new one, and then let the bloody thing charge.

It’s better this way, anyway.

It’s dark and he’s sitting in Sherlock’s bedroom, on the floor next to Sherlock’s bed.

His hands shake as he dials the number.

Maybe he’s delusional.

Maybe the barista just wanted to mess with him.

Maybe nobody will answer.

It rings. He’s nauseous with nerves, shaking with anticipation.

If this isn’t real…. He can’t even think about it.

The line picks up.

A voice he’d recognise anywhere. Uncharacteristically hesitant. “John?”

John’s breath hitches and he lets out a laugh that’s mostly a sob. “Oh, you unbelievable bastard.”

There’s a small smile in the voice as it answers. “You asked me for another miracle. How am I doing so far?”

John smiles through the tears that are running down his face unchecked and unheeded. “Pretty well.”

“I just wanted to let you know…. I heard you,” Sherlock says, quiet and gentle, in a tone of voice that makes John's heart hurt. “I heard you.”

“Sherlock-”

“I have to go. But I’ll come for you soon. Wait for me.”

The line goes dead.

John stares at the phone for a long time. Wondering if any of this is real.

Finally, he nods at himself. I believe in Sherlock Holmes, he thinks. He always has, and he always will.

In the meantime, he will wait.

That makes 31 ficlets, making my collection complete. This was so much fun, thank you all for reading and liking my ficlets, I've had such lovely responses.

Tagging a few people.

@calaisreno @discordantwords @keirgreeneyes @jrow @peanitbear @lisbeth-kk @shiplocks-of-love @iamjustreading @the-reading-lemon @thetimemoves @fluffbyday-smutbynight @helloliriels @topsyturvy-turtely @catlock-holmes @7-percent @khorazir

#johnlock #bbc sherlock #johnlock fic #my fic #may 2023 prompts #this is it guys #number 31 #fix it #trf

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gogomatthew · 7 months

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im on your team

Spencer Reid x SWAT!fem!reader

summary: your job usually meant NOT interacting with other deputies that was until you met him.. and as much as you hate to admit it he makes you soft

warnings: minimal cussing, law enforcement and typical cm violence, not accurate depiction of SWAT lemme know if I missed anything

You make your way into the washington PD conference room with the rest of your team being met with the deputies and the BAU. It was strange to say the least.. usually most of the information was passed on to you by your commander but this time you were all being called into a meeting? Something was off and with you being the team operator you had a right to know. Your team is all geared up, only thing left to do is put on your helmets but with big suits inside a crowded PD building breathing was hard enough. You clear your throat making your presence noticeable to the room and your commander turns around “This is SSA Hotchner and the BAU they have some information they want us to know before we actually go into the field” he stares at you for a second expectingly waiting for you to introduce yourself

“Tactical team operator Y/N” you opt for a light wave considering your glove clad hands. “what is it we’re doing here exactly?” you wait for 1 of the MANY agents in the room to answer “to put it simply.. you’re not allowed to shoot or station a sniper today” your eyes go wide “what? why not?” you didn’t actually ENJOY shooting people but considering shooting and sniping was beyond useful to catching the unsub without getting your team hurt it all seemed too risky “the particular type of unsub we’re dealing with today is beyond unstable and paranoid.. uh if he even sees a sniper he’ll kill all the hostages without hesitation.. we wont even have time to talk him down and we’re not allowed to injure him under any circumstances due to his family name” a cute brunette agent with big eyes rambles out as he paces around the room a bit. Just laying your eyes on him made you flustered. Snapping out of it you stick your tongue out from the side of your mouth thinking for a few seconds, clearly conflicted your defensive stance falters as you let out a breath and lean against the table behind you. You look up at all the agents who already have their eyes on you, you do however manage to miss the certain lingering flustered stare of a particular doctor “You all realize how dangerous this is right?” you’re met with a “ we know but its the job..” from your commander, you turn making your way out with your team following behind, only to be met with a rough hand on your shoulder “aww someone has little crush huh? you going soft for sherlock holmes over there?” your colleague says exceptionally loud before you even leave the room making you blush and Morgan giggle nudging an oblivious Spencer “fuck off” he gasps “OH MY GOD YOURE NOT EVEN GONNA DENY IT?”

The operation goes smoothly with minimal injuries to your team. After getting the hostages to safety and capturing the unsub at his hideout out, you check on your team. “everyone alright? you all did a great job” you all take your helmets off allowing themselves the pleasure of fresh air. Getting verbal and non-verbal confirmation from everyone put you at ease though it was hard to feel that in your line of career. “hey lover boy over there keeps longingly gazing at you” your colleague teases in a sing song voice only to be met with an eyeroll from you “im serious though.. he has something for you and I think you feel the same way.. so stop being a pussy and go talk to him” hes been on your mind since you laid eyes on him so its now or never! “fine but if he rejects me im gonna blame it on you” he pats your back encouragingly filling in your other colleagues as to what you’re about to do, they focus all their attention on you now, they’re watching eagerly with shit eating grins. You walk over to Spencer and as soon as he sees you he clears his throat and excuses himself from his conversation with Morgan. Morgans confusion wears off as he sees you reaching his friend and your colleagues gathered just a few feet away huddled and giggling, he runs over to JJ and Emily to inform them about whats about to go down as they watch excitedly essentially mimicking your team’s actions. “hey..” you say with a shy smile “hey.. you did great by the way” he says with a chuckle “thanks u-um im usually never this nervous but cute people have that effect on me I guess.. and I don’t think I could live with myself if I didint shoot my shot so uh” you grab his arm and write your phone number on it “heres my number you should give me a call sometime.. if you want too! though we didn’t meet under the best circumstances we can still see each other without being surrounded by you know.. criminals and deputies” his smile grows as you let out a small but sincere laugh “never thought id end this case with a pretty girl giving me her number” Spencers smile grows and so does the blush staining your cheeks “Reid we gotta go!” Hotch calls out “ill be expecting that call then?” you ask shyly “youd be crazy not too” and with that you give him a small peck on his cheek “ok.. byee!!” you run off to be met by wolf whistles and head nuggies from your team “hah turns out you do have a soft spot” they pick fun at you as you laugh and Spencer watches in adoration before being caught off guard by morgan throwing his arm around his shoulder “JJ! our baby boy has a hot date!” they both laugh and tease him as they escort him over to the SUV. After landing back in virginia he put your number into his phone.

***-***-****: Hey this is Spencer Reid so about that date?.. :)

A/N: hope this dosent suck too bad! I wrote this right after a lecture LMAO reblogs appreciated (pt 2?)

#criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #mgg #fluff #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff

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forever-1895 · 7 months

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Domesticity in The Sign Of Four

Can we just take a moment to appreciate the domestic stuff in the chapter The Baker Street Irregulars?

So basically what happens, is after a midnight goose chase (ft. Holmes and Toby the mongrel) and the three of them return to 221B, Watson is tired and in an iffy mood. He goes upstairs to take a shower and a change of clothes, and when he comes down again, breakfast is already laid and Holmes is pouring out the coffee ^_^

After a chat about how nothing new's going on in the case, Watson asks Holmes:

"...Are you going to bed, Holmes?" "No. I am not tired. I have a curious constitution. I never remember feeling tired by work, though idleness exhausts me completely..."

And Holmes then explains to Watson the mystery of the criminal's accomplice, the savage until he notices Watson is tired, and plays a beautiful melody on his violin which he composed himself to lull his friend to sleep...

"...Look here Watson; you look regularly done. Lie down there on the sofa and see if I can put you to sleep." He took up his violin from the corner, and as I stretched myself out, he began to play some low, dreamy, melodious air - his own, no doubt, for he had a remarkable gift for improvisation. I have a vague remembrance of his gaunt limbs, his earnest face and the rise and fall of his bow. Then I seemed to be floated peacefully away on a soft sea of sound until I found myself in dreamland...

Ironically, this is also the story where Watson gets married - some people think that the above is a last ditch effort on the part of Holmes to keep his companion... 🥲😭

#sherlock holmes #johnlock #holmes x watson #acd johnlock #mary morstan #the sign of four

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multific · 13 days

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Destiny

Mycroft Holmes x Reader

Summary: What happens when you fall in love with the IceMan himself? It can never end well, right?

Destiny.

A simple word yet it held so much power.

What does it mean to be destined for something or even, someone?

When you first heard about this word, your grandmother told you how she and your grandfather met.

A true love story.

A story so beautiful it was always in the back of your head as you grew older and older.

You hoped you would have a similar experience in your love life. Finding, the person and falling in love, it all sounded amazing.

You knew you wouldn't be able to force such a thing, you were aware of that. And yet, you were impatient.

So impatient that in fact, you fall into many traps.

In many ways, you thrived in your life.

Expect your love life.

Your desire for a love like no other made you fall in love with men who were undeserving.

Until you met Mycroft Holmes.

To say that he was the entire British Government would be an understatement.

You applied for a simple job, to be his assistant.

You spent so much time with him, that you thought you were going insane.

You blamed Stockholm syndrome for your feelings.

The moment you realized your feelings were real was during a very difficult week.

Almost every criminal in London had an agenda to mess with him. This caused you to do so much overtime, that you didn't even leave the office.

It was during the fourth day when Mycroft showed up with a bouquet.

"I thought you would be home," he said, clearly he wasn't prepared to have you right there, at your desk. "Usually you arrive at 6:46 because you stop by at the nearby bakery for breakfast and coffee."

So, he did pay attention to you. After he spent all that time to make sure you are aware that he simply doesn't care for people like you.

"I stayed to finish the file on this. I-"

"Did you eat?"

"No, Sir." he made a face at that and took his phone out of his pocket.

"Delivery will be here in 10 minutes. Eat, drink your coffee and then come speak with me. I'll be in my office."

He ordered exactly just what you wanted with the most perfect coffee you ever had.

He paid attention to you.

And you realized your feelings for him were real.

You knew hiding it from him would be impossible. Mycroft was incredibly smart. He would notice.

But little did you know, he felt the same.

He thought you would notice his feelings and confront him about it.

He wasn't ready for a rejection.

Yet, your rejection never came.

Not when he asked you out to dinner. Not when he brought you another bouquet.

Not when he kissed you.

Instead, he let you guide him.

Love wasn't new to him. He loved his siblings, and his parents but this kind of love is very different.

He didn't have experience with this kind of love, and it scared him a little.

But he also didn't reject it.

He embraced it.

And soon, a beautiful diamond ring found its rightful place on your finger.

It might have not been the way you wanted your one and true love.

But it was your destiny.

And you were okay with it.

Taglist:

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

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no-side-us · 4 months

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It's interesting, reading the beginning of A Study in Scarlet after reading all the short stories and ending on His Last Bow. You sort of get to see how far Holmes and Watson have come in all those decades of adventures. You go from Sherlock Holmes as this young man who needs someone to go halves with him on rent to an aged, experienced detective who has been undercover for two years infiltrating a German spy ring. His flair for the dramatic is ever present however.

And I love comparing the descriptions of Watson from being as "thin as a lath" here to him in His Last Bow, where he's "heavily built" and "thickset." I take it as a sign of healing. Also, I'm only noticing it now but does this line:

As to you, Watson, you are joining us with your old service, as I understand, so London won't be out of your way.

imply that Watson is joining the army again? If so, that's another point of comparison to be made that we see Watson start and end with being a soldier. Not sure I like it, but it's interesting nonetheless.

Anyways, can't wait to read the rest of A Study in Scarlet. I'm kind of curious about the reaction when we get to the latter half of the story, cause honestly I don't know if I'll enjoy it. But I'm sure it'll still be interesting to read. And I did do a liveblog for the first time this was sent, so here's a link if people want to go back and read that.

Happy (day-late) Birthday Mr. Sherlock Holmes!

#letters from watson #a study in scarlet #sherlock holmes #john h watson #arthur conan doyle

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dearfandomdiary · 1 year

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Mornings with your husband

sherlock holmes x wife!reader Warnings: idk. ooc!sherlock ?? lmao word count: 810 word

Author's note: Hey! this is part two of Waiting on your husband ! There is a Sigmund Freud reference just for funsies bc you're into psychology and just read his paper; is it accurate to the time period? idk. is this for funsies? absolutely. SO ENJOY!!

You awoke due to the sun streaks coming through the curtains. You had forgotten to close them completely. Like instinct, your hand reached out to your right where Sherlock slept but all you felt was emptiness; the bed made and cold. You groaned at the memory. He had slept on the couch after coming home drunk.

You sighed before getting up. That will be interesting, you thought with a chuckle as you made the bed. Wrapping your morning robe around your body, you walked out of your shared bedroom.

Silence welcomed you which came to a surprise. It was already 8 am. On any other day, he would be up and about already. Making tea, working on his cases; some kind of noise always happened.

Sherlock was still asleep, you noticed and you chuckled quietly. His body was turned towards the backrest as best as he could, almost curled into himself like a fetus. Seeing him sleep, you decided to make coffee and breakfast first. He would definitely need that. You also grabbed his newspaper from outside.

After preparing everything on the dining table, as quiet as you could, you walked over to the chaise lounge and sat on the small corner. A hand on his thigh, you began: “Sherlock? It’s time to wake up.” Your hand brushed over his thigh. “Sherlock. Come on, love.”

Then, finally. He groaned, his hand reaching out to cover your own. “Lay with me.” he mumbled, his hand grabbing yours to tug you close.

But you held your ground. A chuckle left your lips. “Maybe later. I made coffee and breakfast. Porridge with applesauce and toast with jam.”

This caused Sherlock to open an eye and twisting to look at you. His eyes squinted against the brightness from the kitchen windows. “Black coffee with a splash of milk?”

You nodded. “Of course. Up you go. Your sister is arriving soon.” you reminded him with a smile. His antics really were adorable sometimes.

He hummed, another attempt to tug at your hand. “Soon isn’t now. Come on, let's cuddle for a bit.”

For a moment, it felt it was working. You weighed your options. You loved spending time with him, his hugs felt like home and comfort but then again. Enola was coming soon and you needed to get dressed and Sherlock needed to get ready for the day no matter how hungover he was.

With a huff, you removed your slippers. “Fine. But only for a few minutes, alright? I have so much to do today even if you never notice it.” you argued as you watched him; his hand never releasing yours. He sat back against the back of the chaise lounge, his legs spread slightly so you could get settled in his arms, leaning against his chest. Your head fell back against his shoulder and a low hum left your lips.

“Good?”

“Perfect.”

He chuckled at your response and kissed the top of your head. “Did you get my newspaper?” he asked and you nodded.

“It’s on the dining table. Do you want it? I can get it for you.”

Sherlock let out a laugh. “What I want, is for my woman to stay in my arms right now. I can read it later.” he said, his arms tightening around your waist.

You chuckled. “Well maybe your woman likes being on her feet and not just sitting around all day.” you replied while your hand came down to Sherlock’s, your index finger running up and down his fingers.

Goosebumps were forming, you could see it and it made you grin.

Sherlock groaned in response, his face resting in the crook of your neck. “You never even met my mother and you’re starting to sound like her.”

You couldn’t resist laughing. “Careful or people might think you have an Oedipus Complex.” you teased as her hand reached up to stroke through his curly hair.

His eyes opened almost immediately. “Mh? Did you read his paper?” Sherlock lifted his head. “I do not have an Oedipus Complex, (Y/N).” he argued.

“I know, love. I was joking. I’ve been with a few men before you who fit those criteria a lot better.” you said, your eyebrows furrowed slightly; you were almost cringing at the image. “Anyhow— let’s not speak of that. What were you doing yesterday that required you to get drunk?”

You felt him stiffen behind you and could feel the change in topic before it happened.

“Oh, look at the time. Enola should arrive sson. Let me get changed! I’ll eat after!” he said as he gently pushed you back to get up. He practically vanished into thin air.

You pouted a little. He rarely kept such tight hold on his cases. What could possibly be going on?

You were ripped out of your thought when you heard a knock on your door.

#sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #sherlock holmes enola holmes #enola holmes #enola 2

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