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#enola holmes oneshot
heliads · 2 years
Note
Okay so here come the Enola Holmes requests; hear me out, Tewksbury best friends to lovers where the reader makes things out of paper and tries to teach Tewksbury how to make paper flowers when he asks. He SUCKS at it, but he's head over heels for her and so he spends hours alone practicing and he makes her this cute bouquet out of newspaper and maybe it has like a little love confession note or something in it idk idk but my brain is in overdrive rn
YES this idea is literally the cutest thing ever to me, hope i did it justice!
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Tewkesbury doesn’t know that he’s lost until he sees her. It’s been too long since he’s been able to get away like this, trade off the drama of the House of Lords and every rule he’s expected to follow for the actual thrills of life. It may be his destiny to grow so deeply entrenched in politics that he stops seeing the difference between his working life and the rest of his waking one, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it.
Needless to say, the second he was able to skive off another day spent around the members of Parliament, Tewkesbury did so with a flourish. He could think of nothing better than tracking down his best friend and spending the rest of the weekend annoying her without pause, but now that he’s actually here, he finds himself coming up short. It was supposed to be nothing out of the ordinary, these couple of days away, but yet when Tewkesbury stares at the girl who’s been like a sister all of these years, he suddenly wishes that connection would disappear in his head forever.
The problem is that the girl who looks up at him with a smile when she sees him looks different somehow, as if spending a mere month or two out of her company has been enough to completely rewrite Tewkesbury’s entire mental picture of her. Do her eyes always shine like that when she sees him, or is that new? Has he always wanted to smile like mad whenever they’re together, or is that the lingering affection of some new affliction Tewkesbury doesn’t think he could name if he tried?
It shakes him to the core, this sudden feeling. One moment, he’s rounding the corner to meet up with a friend, just that, and then he’s looking at this girl and all he can think about is that he never wants to leave her side again. Politics can go to hell without him. Tewkesbury only has an excuse to leave the government buildings for this weekend, but he wishes it could be forever.
He doesn’t have all of eternity to ponder this, though. Y/N L/N races up to him when their eyes meet, and then he’s standing before her, breathless and wondering how on earth he is supposed to go about as if nothing has changed when he’s pretty sure that every possible thing has.
Y/N, however, seems utterly devoid of the miraculous transformation currently wreaking havoc in between Tewkesbury’s ribs. “It’s wonderful to see you,” she beams, “I was beginning to think that you’d gone ahead and moved into the Palace of Westminster forever. I haven’t seen you in years.”
Tewkesbury finds it within himself to scoff at this blatant lie. “That’s absurd. I saw you not seven weeks ago.”
Y/N arches a disbelieving brow. “Yes, seven weeks ago. That’s a perfectly ordinary time to go without visiting your best friend even once, you traitor.”
Tewkesbury clasps a hand to his heart, feigning hurt. “Cruel. I have never once been a traitor to you.”
He doesn’t know that he could, now. He can’t imagine a world in which he is not following her around, either in endless loops around the London streets or in constant cycles of daydreams in which Tewkesbury is able to put an actual name to the emotions currently driving him mad.
Y/N grins. “I’m glad to hear it. I was worried for a second there, you know.”
“No you weren’t,” Tewkesbury laughs.
“Perhaps not,” Y/N says with an elaborate shrug, “but I like to keep you on your toes. It makes for a more dramatic weekend if we’re both slinging accusations left and right.”
“Not as fun, though,” he argues.
Y/N concedes this point through a solemn nod. “No, not as fun. I’ve never had to worry about fun with you, though.”
She looks up at him with a smile, and Tewkesbury thinks that his heart might explode out of his chest. He wants to say something, needs to say something, but all he can manage is–
“You know what would be fun? If you showed me how to make those paper crafts. I know you can do it, I’ve seen you make tons of stuff from paper before. It’s really cool, and I missed seeing you do it. I missed–”
He cuts off the hopeless flood of words before he can say something incriminating like that he missed her, but Tewkesbury gets the feeling that he’s already said too much. Also too little at the same time; Y/N promises him that they’ll get to make the paper shapes as requested, but he swears her face drops a little, like she could sense that there was something Tewkesbury was trying to say but just couldn’t manage. He wants to try again, but the words choke up his throat and he can’t get out a single syllable.
Instead, he contents himself with watching Y/N as they walk, how the sun dapples her skin with endless patterns of gold. He watches as they leave the streets as well, once they head for Y/N’s house down the block. Tewkesbury pushes the door open; it’s always been more of his home than any other corner or annex of his family place. This is where he feels at peace, and although he’s always thought that was just what came with finding a friend like Y/N, he’s starting to think that it could be more. That maybe they could be more.
It is a false hope, however, and one that will only serve to make him bleed, to rob the happiness from his chest whenever Tewkesbury looks over and sees Y/N. They are friends, compatriots, brethren in a war that all young children grown old must face at some point. Never have they been closer, and never has he wished that they could be closer still.
He’s caught staring as they head up the stairs, and he looks away hastily although the damage is done. Y/N laughs at the blush forming on his cheeks. Although Tewkesbury reacts by habit and shoves her with an outstretched, playful arm, he can’t seem to stop his hand from lingering there on her shoulder, fingers reaching as if to pluck some sort of love out of her through willpower alone.
He finds it not, though, and is forced to stay satisfied with smiling to himself and wondering if the rest of his life will be like this, just watching and hoping for a happy ending that may never come his way. Tewkesbury has always wanted something he could never have:  a world outside of family rules, a universe that did not want him controlled, and now, worst of all, a love that should have stayed platonic. It is the cut that aches the most.
The moment is good, though. Y/N has always had this most peculiar skill when it comes to paper crafts, and Tewkesbury regards her now through lowered eyes. Her hands flit around the cut shapes, slicing off delicate corners and creasing folds until a simple note becomes a prancing pony, a soaring bird about to take flight around the room.
Tewkesbury shakes his head after she produces yet another paper marvel. “I don’t know how you do it,” he protests, “Show me, can’t you? Let’s make a flower or something.”
“Flowers have always been your favorite, haven’t they?” Y/N comments. She does as requested, although what are lovely narcissi and tulips in her hands turn into sadly wilted clumps of paper in his.
Tewkesbury just can’t figure out how she does it. Even after that particular day ends, he finds himself sitting in his room surrounded by heaps of useless folds, trying and failing to emulate her easy way with the paper crafts. One would think that Tewkesbury, with his lifetime of knowledge about every facet of flora there is to know, would be able to reproduce his beloved plants in paper form, but here you would be surprised.
Tewkesbury labors for hours, days even, but his progress is slow and totally frustrating. Y/N catches him at it a few times and laughs at him. The sound, so sharp it stings, carves a smile on Tewkesbury’s face even when he’s almost been driven to the point of madness by the infuriatingly unrealistic paper flowers.
He insists that Y/N show him a few more times, of course, but Tewkesbury can’t seem to pick up a single thing. Maybe that’s because he’s not really hearing but looking at his professor. The sunlight clings to her like a child, playing at her hair in ways that only golden beams can get away with in proper society. Despite Y/N’s protests that he really is getting better, Tewkesbury only thinks he’s getting better at one thing and one thing alone:  falling harder for her.
Soon enough, he finds that he cannot go a day, cannot even draw a breath, without thinking about how much he loves Y/N. His room is dizzy and chaotic, the paper flowers piling up in the corners and spilling out of waste paper baskets. Tewkesbury’s hands are nicked by all the paper cuts he’s given himself by accident, and he finds his fingers keep twitching by his sides to run through the familiar folds and patterns as he goes by his days.
At some point, Tewkesbury looks up and realizes that he’s done it, mastered the things. They’re nothing compared to Y/N’s magic with them, of course, but they do the trick for now. An idea comes to him, and Tewkesbury carefully makes one pristine paper flower after another, all the types he knows by heart and some he has to consult in his books, too, just to get the right varieties.
Y/N is surprised when he presents them to her at first, this newsprint bouquet. Her eyes are enchanted and rove up and down the folded petals, the cut stems.
“You did all of this?” She asks, voice tinged with excitement.
Tewkesbury laughs. “You don’t have to seem so surprised. I was bound to get it at some point, you know.”
Y/N flashes him a grin in between her admirations of the paper flowers. “I never doubted you for a second, I swear it.”
He believes her, he always has. How is it that Tewkesbury can see straight through politicians and their lies, but yet find himself stumbling over Y/N’s every word? Every ounce of critical thought leaves his head in a blessed whirlpool the second she smiles at him. It is a problem that Tewkesbury refuses to solve.
A voice calls from behind him; Tewkesbury wasn’t able to stay for long today, only long enough to press the paper bouquet into Y/N’s hands and make her swear to look at it before he’s dashing back to the House of Lords again for the day’s work.
He doesn’t have to stay to make sure she’ll investigate, nor to discover what she finds. Soon enough, Y/N will be glancing over the paper creases and realize that not all of the flowers are made of newsprint. Some are made of notes, notes to her, notes that are at last able to explain all that Tewkesbury couldn’t put into words if he tried.
It’s a story about how a boy fell in love with a girl, how Tewkesbury is so lost on Y/N that he can’t think straight. Unable to help himself, he’s cataloged the flowers he’s made for her; camellias for longing, jasmine for sweet love, goldenrod so he’ll have luck in this, begonias so that even if she doesn’t feel the same way, he can at least thank her for all of the memories they made in the past years.
It might be the bravest thing he’s ever done. In truth, when Tewkesbury steps out of the reaches of Parliament for the day, he doesn’t know what to expect. In all his endless plotting and scheming about how to do this, he was never able to accurately sum up how Y/N might respond.
In the end, she surprises him. Tewkesbury enters the streets of London and there she is, waiting for him with a smile on her face unlike anything he’s ever seen before. Tewkesbury has prided himself on being able to place each one of her smiles in his memory, rank them on how happy she truly is, and this one blows all of the others away.
He walks to her, and they meet in the middle somewhere, both bursting with hopes finally answered.
“I love you too,” she says, “more than anything. More than you love me, I think.”
“Doubtful,” Tewkesbury replies, “I don’t think it’s possible for anyone to love more than I love you.”
She laughs. “I look forward to proving you wrong on that point.”
He looks forward to it, too. There are few things in life that can be described as going perfectly, but this, this is it. This is perfection itself, him and her and the glorious world stretching out around them. Nothing could be better.
requested by @thatfangirl42, i hope you enjoy!
enola holmes tag list: empty for now!
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padfootdaredmetoo · 7 months
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I come with requests (pls). You can decide if it has smut or not but-
SHERLOCK (ENOLA HOLMES VERSION) IS TALKING TO IRENE AND Y/N IS JEALOUS CUZ HE SEEMS TO FLIRT WITH HER N STUFF.
Again, you can decide if there's smut or anything but I NEED this fic.
It would be greatly appreciated as I need another reason to listen to Reputation.
Hey Anon,
Again I'm incredibly sorry you had to wait so long. Hope you enjoy this!
Warnings: Smutt, dom / sub vibes, arguing
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The whole situation was wrong. You stood in the doorway of Sherlock’s apartment, the apartment you recently had to move into. The woman seemed to enjoy your startled expression, her eyes were dark and there was a smirk ghosting on her red lips. 
“This is-” Sherlock started his eyes fixed on the woman, to your relief he had kept his distance. He was leaning against the fireplace mantel. 
“Oh, I know who she is.” Her eyes narrowed, and her body was sprawled across the couch. “I’m Irene, an old friend of Sherlock’s,” She said moving her gaze back to him. 
You wanted to throttle her, wishing that women’s issues could be settled like men. Instead, you smiled brightly. 
“If I knew we were having guests I would have put something together. I’ll put the kettle on.” You moved into the kitchen. 
“No need darling. I'm not here for tea.” She uncrossed her legs and sat upright. “I came here for business.” 
Then it started. You stayed on the edge of the room as the two started to banter. Crime scenes, clues, motives, both trying to get the upper hand. You struggled to keep up as they argued, one thing was glaringly obvious. The tension in the room was palpable. You felt the electricity and it made you sick to your stomach. 
They were an inch away from each other, Sherlock looking unimpressed and cold, while she looked like she was savoring every moment of the interaction. 
“Maybe you should look a little closer, somewhere in the woods maybe?” 
“Moriarty-” 
“Sends his regards.” She whispered her eyes focused on his lips. Part of you felt like you should intervene, and the other part of you felt like slinking away. This was so embarrassing, he seemed to forget about your existence altogether. Part of you knew it was because he wanted the missing information from the case he was working on, but the rest of you couldn't feel that logic. 
You were swallowed up by his lack of concern for you. He looked and acted as if he was single, he was doing exactly what she wanted him to do. 
She turned on her heel and left, slamming the door behind her causing you to jump. Your stomach and chest were tight, but you would rather be shot than let him see that he had hurt you. 
You moved to the bedroom and shut the door, locking it even though you knew he would probably be sitting there sorting through her riddles. 
You grabbed a bag stuffing it with clothes, anger seeping out of you. It was going to be a huge mess if you went to your sister's place like this but you didn’t care. Any place was better than here. 
You opened the bedroom door and to no surprise, he was sitting there staring out the window. Muttering under his breath. He never liked being interrupted when he was like this. So you walked across the living space towards the front door. 
“Where are you going?” He asked exhaling smoke from his pipe. 
“Doesn't matter.” You shrugged. 
“Of course, it matters.” He stood up fully attentive now. 
“No -” 
“She just gave us the missing clue, Morarity is--” 
“Is a fucking ponce. I don't have time for this Sherlock. I can't do this,” You slipped a little then took a deep breath making your way closer to the door. 
His large frame blocked you and you were surprised that he was making such an effort to keep you there. He looked like he was struggling to explain something. 
“You're angry. I don't understand why.” This made your blood boil.  “But Moriarty wants you.” 
“I’m glad someone does.” You bit back. His face was stern and you knew he wasn't going to let you leave and a part of you was happy to argue.  
“You don’t think I want you.” His voice was just above a snarl, and his eyes were dark. His anger had the opposite effect on your body, your pulse raced and you suddenly felt a few degrees too hot. His glare was consuming and you hated him for how attractive it was. 
“Obviously not. She was all over you, and you - you - you - just let her. Right in front of me - you didnt even -” He leaned his face closer to yours and your words cut off.
“She wants you to run out of here angry. There’s a delivery carriage just up the street that hasn't moved since she got here.”Sherlock whispered. “She’s already left, thinking you’d run out of here. We have the upper hand.” 
You thought about what he was saying, there was plenty of logic. The way her eyes would land on you periodically despite flirting with Sherlock. She was obvious too obvious about it. You still felt like fighting. 
“I don’t like this.” You gritted your teeth. Many converstations had recently been had over the many ups and downs of the life he lead. How you were attched to him publicly now due to a careless misstep. Now you understood his reluctance all these months. 
Moving in with him was the safest option. You didnt realise how angry all of that made you, how your private life was boiled down and sold as broth for everyone to consume. Somthing so dear to you, you knew deep down you wouldnt want to live without him. You closed your eyes, you wanted him. But the world needed him. All those murdered women, cases left unsolved completley neglected until he would show up. 
He was doing what was right. A thought that comforted the anger you felt at the loss of control. 
“Then let me make it up to you.” He said through gritted teeth. A voice in the back of your mind told you to run away from the darkness in his eyes. Your body stood frozen in place, welcoming his rage. 
He closed the space between the two of you and gripped your jaw tightly. You looked up at him with wide eyes, he was so angry. His mouth crashed into yours and you felt yourself slip away into blissful submission. 
This wasn't normal for you. When you wanted to fight you let him have it. You would shout at him and was always secretly grateful that he could take it. He never tried to take advantage, letting you express your emotions freely. Normally without consequence. But his hands were warm and gripping at your flesh madly.
You felt like you should make an effort to push back, try to take some control back. But your body had a mind of its own. You wanted him to make it up to you, and for once you didn’t want to be the one thinking and doing.  
You let him ravish you, pulling apart the front of your dress. His mouth biting the flesh along your breastbone. He pushed you against the living room wall, and a crashing sound was noted in your periphery but you didnt have the brain power to care. He used his knee to press his way between your legs. His hand ran up the inside of your thigh bringing your skirts up higher. 
His mouth tenderly sucked in a nipple causing you to knot your fingers in his hair. A groan escaped your lips, your eyes fluttered closed and the last of your thoughts faded away. 
Your mind was singularly focused on receiving his touch. He placed one last sharp bite against the base of your neck before picking you up. He kissed you messily as he carried you back to the bedroom. Kocking over piles of books and experiments. The place would be a disaster after but you didnt care. His large body somehow managed to safely navigate the chaos before reaching the bedroom. He threw you down on the bed and quickly discarded your dress. His body was on yours in the span of a breath, he wasn't going to risk letting you sober up and snap back to reality. 
A faint warning sounded that there were still men waiting outside the house… That thing could be dangerous. The thought only made you wetter. 
Your mind went blank as you felt his mouth on your clit. No warm-up, no warning. Your legs snapped shut and you let out a scream. Your hips bucked and he placed a hard slap to the side of your thigh. 
You were getting close, your voice was loud. He moved away and you tried to push his face back down. He resisted you easily. With a fluid motion, he had moved his whole length inside you. The stretch was almost enough to make you orgasm. 
“Not yet.” He snarled, thrusting inside you wildly. His large hand cradled your neck with a delicious grip, his teeth sinking into the flesh under your collarbone once more.  
The pain and pleasure was too much for you. Your hips met his every thrust desperate for his command. Your throat was sore from crying out. 
His thrusts became harder and deeper, stealing the air from your lungs. Your whole body was tensing up.
“Cum” he growled into your ear and your body contracted and seized. The pressure was unbearable, he forced his way in and out of your tight cunt, finding his own release. 
After an eternity your body finally collapsed into nothingness. The most soothing nothingness. 
Sherlock collapsed onto the bed next to you. Pulling you against his naked body tightly. You let him move your limp body, still not able to grasp the world. 
“I’m sorry.” He whispered into your hair. His voice was thick with grief, and you shuddered against the sudden cold that moved against your skin. “I will send you to Frace, there is a monastery there -” 
“Stange thing to do to a woman before banishing her to live with nuns” You mumbled rubbing your cheek against the hair on his chest. 
“I can keep you safe.” He sighed heavily. 
“Perfectly safe here. He’ll find me if you send me away, better to stay next to you. Handle this like every other case.” You were very proud of the contributions you made to the cases you had helped with.
___________
The man shifted looking down at his watch once again. The lady never left the apartment. He felt antsy, Moriarty made it very clear how he deals with disobedience, the last thing he wanted was to end up another case file on Sherlock’s desk. 
He didnt really want this job. He looked at the apartment window through his side-view mirror. Guilt hit him at the thought of kidnapping a woman. His brother had made it very clear that this was the only way to pay off his debts. The thought of his nephew and sister-in-law, made him stay in his seat. 
Stupid family. 
After a long while he got down from the carriage. He ran up the stairs and was hit with the sounds of crashing and screaming without his better judgment opened the apartment door.  221B, just like in the papers. 
To his astonishment, the place was trashed. Books, instruments, broken glass, and various liquids thrown across the hardwood. The sound of the woman’s screams made his stomach drop. Sounds like maybe someone else was hired, in case she went the other way or something. With a heavy sense of guilt, the man turned and shut the door behind him. He ran down the street leaving the carriage there. Maybe whoever else was on the mission would go back for it.
Thinking one last bitter thought about his family, he got on the next train out of London. He sat on the train and said a prayer for the poor woman, pledging never to get involved with such things again.
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make-me-imagine · 1 year
Text
A New Years Kiss
Part One: A Christmas Rose
Plot: After an agonizing wait over the holidays, you finally get to see Sherlock again at the Tewksbury family New Years gathering. Will you find out if the rose was truly meant for you?
Pairing: Cavill!Sherlock Holmes x Gn!Reader
Words: 2.2k
A/n: In Victorian times they did not celebrate New Years as heavily as we do today. The rich families would often be the only ones to hold parties or they had "open houses". So this is based around that a bit. With a little modern New Years kiss theme thrown in.
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As you stepped down from the carriage, your eyes ran over the Tewksbury's residence. You often forgot just how large it was.
People mingled outside, greeting each other before slowly making their way inside. Your heart beat was heavy as you took a deep breath and made your way towards the house.
Spotting Enola lingering outside, you approached her. As she spotted you, you saw her smile.
"Y/n, thank God, I was afraid I would have to go in alone."
"Isn't Tewksbury greeting you?"
She sighed "No, alas he is busy hosting, he has to greet everyone with his mother."
"Everyone? I do not envy him"
"No do I." She sighed as she looped her arm through yours. "Come, lets go inside."
As you began entering the house, your eyes cast over the crowd. You wondered if Sherlock was here yet. Was he still coming? It had been torture for you having to wait until this party to see him.
You had given in once, a few days prior and went to his apartment. But he was not there. So you had to wait. But you could not help but worry that he might not come tonight. How long would you have to wait to see him then?
What if he did not leave the rose after all, and your anxious waiting meant nothing?
Shushing your own thoughts you looked over at Enola. "Is it true your brother is coming?"
She nodded "Oh yes, apparently he has a very important reason to be here, though he wont tell me what that is exactly. I can't help but think it is about a case he is working on. He is here somewhere." She glanced over at you "He asked if you would be coming as well."
You tried to hide any emotion you might be feeling "Did he?"
You saw something akin to curiosity cross her face, but it quickly faded when she spotted Tewksbury motioning for her to come over to him.
Looking over at you, you nodded "Go ahead. I'll be around."
Smiling, she darted off to go to his side, and you smiled at them. They made a cute couple. Looking around, your heart began beating a bit faster as you wondered where Sherlock was. You wanted to look for him, but feared you might be getting in his way if he was really here working on a case.
Saying hello to a few people you knew, you grabbed a drink and stood at the edge of the room, your eyes casting over the art pieces the family had set out for people to admire.
When some time had passed and you had yet to see Sherlock, you started to doubt he was still here. Maybe something happened and he had to leave.
As people began filing into the large dancing hall, you followed, continuing to stand at the edge of the room.
As Sherlock entered the large room, his eyes found you almost immedietely. You were dressed in an elegant outfit that suited you very well. You looked slightly nervous as you stood among the crowd.
Ever since the day you exchanged gifts, he was tormented with thoughts about how you found the rose. Did you immediately think he left it? Did you return his feelings? Did you even find the rose within the pages?
Walking through the crowd and around the room, his eyes remained on you as he grew closer. A dance would be starting soon, he did not dance often, but with you, he would very gladly do so.
As couple after couple made their way into the middle of the room, including Enola and Tewksbury, you felt an odd sense of jealousy. You were not much of a dancer, but you would like to experience the thrill of dancing closely with someone you had feelings for.
As if on queue, a voice spoke near your left ear, taking you by surprise.
"Would you like to dance?"
Looking over, you saw Sherlock standing close behind you, leaned over to speak softly to you. His hand was placed out for you to take, and a small smile on his face as he met your eyes.
You felt at a loss for words for a moment, but you smiled and nodded "I would love to" You finally muttered out shyly.
His smile grew slightly as he took your hand in his and lead you to the dance floor.
You were not unaware of the mutters that followed as people saw Sherlock Holmes leading a mostly unknown person out onto the dance floor. But you didn't care about their opinions, much.
Your heart was fluttering, and your chest was tight as Sherlock pulled you closer to him to prepare for the dance. Your eyes met and he still held the familiar soft smile on his face.
As the music began, you quickly fell into rhythm with everyone else on the dance floor. There was a silent moment between you, before Sherlock spoke.
"I was glad to see you were able to make it."
"Oh yes, wouldn't miss it." There was a hint of sarcasm in your voice that made his lip quirk. "I was still a bit surprise you came yourself. Enola said you were here for something important. A case perhaps?"
His smile changed almost to a soft smirk and you felt small jolt from your heart.
"The reason I came is important, but it does not have anything to do with a case"
The way his eyes studied you made you think he meant you were the reason. But you feared you may be hoping for too much.
"And what reason is that, may I ask?" Your voice was soft.
Sherlock could tell what you were hinting at, and this was enough to tell him what he wanted to know.
Spinning you around to the music, he pulled you close to him again your back against his chest, as his voice spoke softly in your ear.
"I wanted to know what you thought of my gift."
You felt a shiver roll through you as his lips just brushed your ear. Twirling you back around to face him again, your came chest to chest, your face hovering just in front of one another before you stepped back and continued with the dance.
"The book? Or the other gift within it?" You didn't say explicitly what it was, but your word were obvious enough.
He smiled at your choice of words "Both." He said simply.
"I adore the book, and I've already read it front to back twice." His eyebrow quirked and you smiled. "And the other-"
Pulling you close to him against, his face hovered close to yours as you moved around the room in dance. You were sure there were eyes on you, but you didn't care.
"I loved." Your voice came out softly.
"Loved?" He repeated, his own voice soft.
"Such a beautiful color. And the meaning-" You seemed to be losing your train of thought as his face remained so close to yours.
"Is returned, I hope?" He finished, just as the music ended.
You stopped as everyone else did, but remained locked on each other before you pulled your eyes away to clap for the musicians. Sherlock did the same, his own chest tight as he looked back at you.
He was unable to say more before a group of men started to make their way over to him, already speaking loudly, asking questions and trying to gain his attention.
He saw you step away, somewhat alarmed by the interruption. Gently grabbing your elbow he leaned in to whisper in your ear. "Meet me on the balcony at Midnight."
Stepping away again, he was almost swallowed by the group of strangers, most of whom you assumed were reporters or politicians.
Making your way away from the crowd, you looked back, only able to see glimpses of his face. You felt pity for him, knowing he hated this kind of attention. And you felt anger, for being interrupted at such an important and intense moment. Looking at the clock nearby, you noted it was nearly forty minutes to twelve.
You sighed as you looked back to here Sherlock had once been. You assumed he had been dragged off by the group of people. You dd not envy him, but you wished you had someway to help him.
"You and my brother seemed to be deep in conversation during that dance."
You jumped slightly at Enola's voice. Turning, you saw her standing beside you, having not even heard her approach.
You cleared your throat lighlty "Yes."
"Did he tell you about the case?" She asked with obvious curiosity in her tone.
You shook your head "He is not here for a case." Your heart jumped slightly. Should you tell her more? What would she think?
Her smile widened as she moved a little closer "Well that confirms the other thing I had a feeling about then."
"Feeling about what?"
"That he was here to see you."
Your eyes glanced to his last location before you looked back at Enola. "Why would you think that?"
She rolled her eyes slightly "Because ever since I introduced you, he always asks about you, wants your opinions, and his eyes follow you everywhere, every time you are around, it's obvious he has feelings for you. "
You felt heart rise up your neck and ears.
"Sorry was that too much?" She asked as she noted your change in demeanor.
You smiled and shook your head "No, I just...didn't know it was obvious."
She smiled "Well your feelings for him were obvious too. But, surprisingly I don't think they were obvious to him."
Deciding to tell her vaguely about what happened between you and Sherlock, she kept you company asking questions and going on long rants about how cases might work after you and Sherlock got involved. You simply listened, too overwhelmed by her ideas and thoughts to say anything.
After some time she tapped you aggressively on the shoulder and pointed at the clock.
"It's nearly midnight."
"Oh!" You said with a jolt "I should go."
She nodded her head hurriedly as she ushered you away, watching as you made your way towards the balcony.
Stepping out onto the balcony, you looked around for Sherlock. Seeing he had not come out yet, you let out a soft breath and wandered over to the balcony's edge. You looked out at the property, seeing groups of people scattered around. The night was brisk, and the stars were bright in the sky.
"Y/n." Your voice was spoken from behind you, causing you to turn around.
Sherlock stepped out and smiled at you, closing the doors behind him. "I hope I did not keep you waiting."
You shook your head "I've only been here a few moments. "
As he approached you, you felt jjttery and nervous.
"I'm sorry all those people bombarded you, I'm sure you did not wish to deal with that tonight."
He smiled "No, I did not. But it was not as bad as it could have been. Though I very much would have preferred being able to spend the time with you."
You smiled as you looked down towards your feet. He smiled at your familiar bashfulness. Stepping forward, he reached into his jacket and pulled something out
"I got this for you."
Looking up, you half-expected to see another purple rose. But instead, he was holding a beautidul dark red carnatin flower.
As your eyes lit up at the sight, Sherlock felt a jolt in his chest. You gingerly took the flower from him and met his eyes.
"You read the book front to back, yes?" You nodded softly and he smiled "What does it mean?"
You looked down at the flower again as you tried to recall the section on carnations.
"White carnations symbolize purity and luck, pink are for gratitude, light red for admiration, and dark red for love and affection."
He nodded softly and took a step closer to you. Reaching out, he gently touched the petals.
"Love, affection, dedication, and passion. Red carnations in general express that-" he paused as his eyes locked onto yours "-my heart aches for you."
You felt a shiver roll through you and your breath seemed to catch in your throat as he stared deeply into your eyes. Slowly, his hand rose and cupped your face, his fingers gently caressed you as he moved closer.
His face hovered just in front of yours as his eyes drifted down to your lips. There was thick tension in the silence between you, that was abruptly interrupted as fireworks shot into the sky from the yard below.
You let out a soft gasp as you and Sherlock looked over to see the bright explosions in the sky. Letting out a soft laugh, you looked back at Sherlock who had an amused smile on his face.
His fingers gently held your chin as he pulled you closer "Happy New Year Y/n"
"Happy New Year Sherlock."
His lips met yours softly as his hand slowly trailed from your chin to rest at your neck as he deepened the kiss. His hand then slowly moved to cup the back of your head as he pulled you closer. His other hand rested at your back, as he held you close to him.
As one of your hands held the carnation, the other reached up and wrapped around his neck as you leaned in and relished the kiss.
xx End xx
I'm really bad at ending fics lol, but I hope you liked it!~
General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry
Sherlock Taglist: @will-grammer, @multifandomfix-recs, @readingbookelf
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rainforest-daisies · 1 year
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snowed in(v.2)
Character: viscount Tewksbury x fem!reader
Prompt: “So we’re snowed in..?”
TW: nothing that I know of!
A/n: FOR MY POOKIE NAMED SOFEE<3
“Darling…I’m sorry..” Tewksbury said with a sigh, staring out the windows at the inches of snow covering the ground. The cold had been slowly seeping into your home, yet he seemed to not mind staying home with you.
You on the other hand, we’re quite disappointed. The annual Christmas ball had been cancelled due to the harsh weather, the attendees being urged to stay put in their homes. You even bought the most magnificent dress you had ever seen, you were sure he would have loved to see you in it.
“Could I make it up to you in any way?” He made his way back to the center of the living room, and sitting in the sofa seat next to you. He rested his hand lightly on top of yours, looking at your saddened face.
“I should be making it up to you…we spent so much on that dress…you worked so hard for the plans to simply be spoiled!” You shrugged your shoulders in annoyance to the weather.
Then, he had an idea.
“Go put the dress on, darling.” He lifted himself off of the seat, and rushed to the phonograph, and placing a record down onto it. You couldn’t see, but it was one of your most cherished records. He knew every way to lift your spirits, and he was willing to try them all.
You were somehow able to lace the backing yourself. with many efforts, but it got laced none the less. The ruffle was slightly itchy on your skin, but nothing you couldn’t tune out. You glanced in your vanity mirror, fixing every imperfection that was in your skirt. Every wrinkle, every twist of fabric, every loose thread.
As you emerged from your shared bedroom, the tail of your deep burgundy dress trailing behind you. You lifted the sides, allowing yourself to walk. Stopping at the entryway of the sitting room, hearing a familiar song echo throughout the large home.
He glanced up from his sketch pad(as he had recently taken up drawing, you were his muse), he watched you slowly approached him. His pupils were slightly dilated, he was truly in love. He had realized it many times before, but this was certainly one of the many. Your heels clicked against the hardwood, and stopped once you reached the rug. By then, you were standing in front of him. The sketch being long forgotten by now, he slid it onto the coffee table and stood.
“Why hello there…m’lady…” he slightly bowed with a large grin on his face, taking your hand in his once again, and kissing your knuckles. You let out a small chuckle, and he responded with one as well. The record skipped, and to your dismay, it made Tewksbury pull away, and flip it. As a new song started, he reached back for you. His hands were guided to your waist, gently pulling you closer to his chest. You could smell his cologne, it smelt like honeysuckle. His hair was slicked back with a sort of gummy gel, with a few strands that had fallen out during the earlier day. His eyes looked tired, like they usually do at this hour of the night.
These things only seemed to catch your eye at this moment, when you were both so intimately close. His eyes never left yours as you danced, every time you would almost miss a step, a small smile would appear on his face.
Time somehow slowed during that dance, and yet the night went faster than you could blink. You would never be fully sure what was going through his head, but you knew that he loved you.
He loves you.
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callmemaeverick · 1 year
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Dangerous Games [Sherlock Holmes x fem!Reader]
A/N: This little oneshot has been playing in my head since the release and I had to get to get it out. Forewarning, this is unbeta’d AND non-period accurate. I am not a Brit, nor am I from that era, though I like to pretend. I just like Henry as Sherlock and I like whump, so when he was shot, well, this came out of it. 
Summary: You are Mrs Hudson’s niece and you were at your aunt’s for your monthly visit, when you heard her favourite tenant stumble through the door
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You knew of him, of course. How could you not? He had commanded attention and admiration wherever he went. And that case Basilweather case a few months ago made him even more popular. But you knew him not as the brilliant detective. No. You knew him as your aunt’s reclusive tenant.
Sherlock Holmes.
He was definitely a character, you decided. Sharp as a tack and not a bad violinist. But he was also blunt and straightforward, sometimes to the point of rudeness. You could recall a time or two where his unsolicited remarks and astute observations made you clench your fists and narrow your eyes at him.
And then there’s the constant revolving door of guests, wanted and unwanted, going up and down the stairs to his flat cum office cum lab cum whatever else. It was very irritating for one looking for a peaceful afternoon with one’s reading.
Your aunt loves him though. Dotes on him as if he was her own. You knew he had helped her with something serious, but no matter how many times you asked, she wouldn’t tell you what. It sometimes drives you mad, but deep down you were grateful he was there to help.
So, despite his apparent lack of empathy, you knew he was a good man. Which was the only reason you put up with him.
xxxx
“You’re an idiot, Sherlock Holmes,” You hissed as you pulled the thread stitching his skin back together.
Judging by the quirk of his eyebrow, you knew it was not something he hears often. In fact, most of the time, it was probably the exact opposite. But you were undeterred, especially since he almost gave you a heart attack, walking through the front door limping and covered in blood.
“Do I want to know the reason you decided to forego a hospital and the attention of a real doctor?”
Sherlock grunted at a particular sharp tug of the suture but did not pull away from your hand. "And miss out on your charming company? Never."
Rolling your eyes at his snark, you returned your focus to the gunshot wound. "Don’t be glib with me, you know it doesn’t work. And it’s not like you couldn’t afford the hospital, so tell me what’s going on?”
When your question was left unanswered, you finished off the last suture and looked up, just to find that his attention was no longer on you but on his map over your shoulder, still cluttered with notes. Frowning, you shifted to block his line of sight. “Sherlock?”
“I had to know.” There was no trace of jest in his voice anymore.
“Know what?”
“I had to know how deep the corruption goes. Her web. I need to know what she’s involved in.”
“She? Enola?” You referred to his young sister, someone you had just met a few days ago helping the man before you up the stairs. She endeared herself to you quite quickly, you realized, as you felt your concern for the Holmes’ siblings grow.
“No. Mira Troy. Moriarty.”
You scoffed at the clever wordplay and turned to look at the map behind you. The name was written clearly on one of the cards.
“She could have died… Enola.” He clarified before you asked. “Had the knife been real, she could've…”
You didn’t know what had truly happened and you suspect you might never will. But you knew it had shaken him quite seriously.
“Sherlock, hey, look at me,” You called, turning back to him. You waited until he pulled his eyes to yours, until you could see the slight discoloration in his left iris. “She is safe, hm? She is sleeping, right in there.” You motioned to his bedroom. "You need not worry."
His gaze moved to his closed door as if he could see right through the wood.
“I just got her.”
“And you’re scared you’re going to lose her.”
“Yes.”
You smiled at the sentiment in his soft voice. He wasn’t as unfeeling as he would like people to think him to be. “You’ve changed, Sherlock Holmes.”
He hummed, coming to the same conclusion. “Perhaps.”
“Give her some credit, Sherlock. She’s tougher than she looks.”
He was silent as he contemplated your words and you didn’t know what he was seeing as he turned to look at you but you refused to break under his stare.
“Like you?"
Heat tinged your cheeks at the sincere mirth dancing in his eyes. It hadn't escaped your begrudging notice that Sherlock Holmes is an attractive man, all wide, strong shoulders and deep voice. It also didn’t help that he was indeed one of the most intelligent man you’ve met.
The feel of his soft touch on the back of your hand stole your attention and your breath stuttered in your lungs when you saw that your hand were clasped overtop his. You didn’t know when you had reached out to him, but what shocked you more was that you felt comfortable enough that the action did not even register to you.
You could only watch as he leaned a little bit closer, grunting with the effort. His head dipped to where his thumb was tracing your knuckles. “My sister believes I’m alone here. In need of a companion."
"Is that," Your voice had dropped to a whisper, as if you were sharing a secret, so you cleared your throat to return it back to normal. "your way of asking me to be your friend?"
Sherlock looked up at you and you froze at the look in his eyes. Heart beating wildly in your chest, you followed his gaze as it dropped to your lips. "Not a friend." He said.
You opened your mouth to respond.
"Sherlock?"
The call of his name might as well be a clap of thunder with the way you both jumped apart at the sound of it. And in that instance, the moment was gone. Blood rushing to your face in embarrassment, the both of you awkwardly stood to face Enola, coming out of the room.
"Are you two alright?" She asked taking in the sight of you, wide eyed and flushed, and Sherlock, shirtless and bloodied. "I heard-"
"Y-yes. I was just... leaving." You sidestepped the man before you and headed for the door, highly aware said man following closely behind.
He called your name, exasperation in his tone, but you ignored it.
"Keep the wound and stiches dry and you'd be right as rain in a few days." Over his shoulder, you smiled at his sister. "You take care of yourself, Enola. If you still feel dizzy and nauseous, have your brother take you to the hospital, alright?" Finally meeting his eyes, you tried to convey what your lips hadn't had the chance to.
"Goodnight, Mr Holmes."
His lips twitched at the game you had initiated. He inclined his head in reply.
The game is on.
Part II
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jaeyunverse · 9 months
Text
into the fandomverse | an enhypen collab call
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welcome to into the fandomverse, a collaboration project for all engenes who enjoy writing on tumblr. i recently hit 3k followers and am hosting this event in celebration of said milestone. all details about the collab are under the cut. i hope you consider joining and spread the word so that your friends can join too :’)
collab masterlist
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𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗠𝗘:
the general theme of the collab is that your fic should be set up in an alternate universe that already exists in a movie, show, book, game, comic, kdrama or anime. for example: harry potter x enhypen, haikyuu x enhypen, shadowhunters x enhypen etc. it really doesn’t matter what crossover or universe you choose as long as it is not problematic :)
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𝗥𝗨𝗟𝗘𝗦:
there are 21 slots in total i.e three for each member.
slots will be given on a first come, first serve basis so that the allotment is fair.
explicit smut is NOT allowed. implied smut is permitted ONLY for the HYUNG LINE—it goes without saying that you must be an adult if you wish to include anything nsfw in your submission.
member x reader and member x oc are the only pairings allowed. no member x member fics! remember to be inclusive of all races and body types if you are writing a x reader fic.
appearances of members other than the one you have chosen are allowed, but please make sure that the main focus of the fic is your chosen member!
your fic can include sensitive subjects as long as they are not romanticized, portrayed in bad light or represented incorrectly. also, please make sure to put proper trigger warnings above the read more cut once you post your fic.
no racism, ableism, homophobia or similar prejudices. you will be removed from the collab if you are found guilty of harboring them.
the code word is fandom. please mention it while applying for a spot so that i know you have gone through the rules.
the minimum word count is 1k. there is no maximum word count so feel free to let your imagination run free. please note that drabbles, blurbs, reactions, headcanons, series, smaus and timestamps will not be accepted. oneshots only!
plagiarism is strictly prohibited.
be respectful and kind to the other members who are a part of the collab. no hate will be tolerated.
this is not a rule but it would be nice if you had a discord account. i have made a server for easy communication and interaction between the collab members. it’s okay if you do not have an account!! i will update you through tumblr dms :’)
if you have any further queries, don't hesitate to dm me <3
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𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗢 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗟𝗬:
applications will be accepted through tumblr asks.
make sure to include your chosen member + fandom + the code word hidden in this post while sending in your application.
after your application has been accepted, please reblog this post to spread the message :D
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𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦/𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛𝗗𝗥𝗔𝗪𝗔𝗟𝗦:
the tentative deadline for posting your entry for the collab is 30th september, 2024.
the deadline is mostly for namesake and you are free to post your submission whenever you want, but please do not take undue advantage of the time flexibility.
i understand if you want to withdraw your application from the collab but please think carefully before applying.
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𝗦𝗟𝗢𝗧𝗦
HEESEUNG: @hanverse (twd) | @flwrshee (25/21) | @boyfhee (extraordinary you) | @tarcherz (ever after high)
JAY: @soobisms (saiki k.) | @junityy (before sunrise) | @lheewonz (demon slayer) | @4xiaojun (maid sama!)
JAKE: @geombyu (fire force) | @hsgwrld (business proposal) | @notthatsamkim (cinderella) | @haesbit (kim possible)
SUNGHOON: @seongclb (hp) | @soobnny (aouad) | @ijhyo (enola holmes) | @hoondrive (spiderman)
SUNOO: @invvuu (tbhk) | @redm4ri (stargirl) | @sunny-reis (the girl who fell beneath the sea) | @enheaven (vampire academy)
JUNGWON: @yjwfav (jjk) | @haknom (see you in my 19th life) | @misojunnie (10 things i hate about you) | @jaeminri (summer strike)
RIKI: @jaeyunverse (spiderman) | @cinnajun (pjo) | @jennaissantes (our beloved summer) | @tyunni (13 going on 30)
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ivorryskies · 4 months
Note
Can I request Dazai x fem!reader in an arrange marriage??? Also a Royal AU?
I think id be a very cute oneshot!
Tysm
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷prompt: All the pretty stars shine for you my love, am I that girl you dream of? all those times I said that I'm your girl, you make me feel like your whole world. -pretty when you cry
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷pairings: Dazai x fem!reader royal au
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷warnings: royal problems that's it.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Felix's note: OMG! ofcourse, I love this request so much thank you for this, sorry if its a little long I got carried away also can you recognize one of the Enola Holmes reference?. pink hearts divider by: @cafekitsune &lt;3
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"hello Prince....?" you were standing next to a small boy after your parents told you you'll be spending a lot of time together.
"Dazai, and you are...? princess?"
" 'name' " you smiled reaching out to shake his hand. Your parents and Dazais Father smiled at you two and continued to carry on their conversation at the table. As you two talked to eachother at your own table. Due to the issues between 2 of the most prosperous nation, both the children were given in the marriage of one another. It was for diplomatic reasons.
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⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇
And that is how you ended up right now. As the two of you gre older your parents forced you together. Dazai's father training him to take the throne and you were forced to learn all the rules and regulations. "please, leave" you said annoyed, your parents were throwing you two an engagement ball in Dazais nation and he was here to pick you. You didn't mean to lash out on him but you've been learning since morning about your duties and how to run a nation all the while keeping within the lines.
You heard him sigh and leave as your stylist shut the door, to get ready. You stood on the platform and she picked some items of clothing for you. It wasn't that you didn't like Dazai, he was a charming prince who every commoner to royalty liked but you couldn't express or find the words to what you were feeling.
"oof" you huffed as the stylist tied your corset. You went to the dressing table to get everything done and after an hour you were ready. You exited the dressing room to be greeted by Dazai standing beside your door waiting. "you waited?" you asked a bit surprised. "Would rather stay here than out". He said looking at you like you were the most beautiful pearl in the ocean. He had thought about it. He didn't mind being engaged to you at all but he knew that you hated it. You weren't mean to him per say but agitated at the things you were forced to do.
"well then what are you waiting for? shall we go?" you asked and walked past him to open the door. You both walked the halls and all of the servants stared in awe at you two. You looking like a majestic angel and he a celestial being in his formal attire. He stopped in his tracks and you looked behind at him and raised a brow in a questioning look. He took out a white rose and put it in your hair. "well, thank you" you gave him a half smile while he returned it with a genuine smile "anything for my lady". You cringed at that "oh shut up". You two continued to walk to the car.
⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇
You reached the ball and heard the people saying how good you two looked, how some ladies and dutchess envied you. You two sat on the thrones next to your parents. As the ceremony commenced you couldn't help but look at Dazai and how he talked to people, how he acted and the little to no details you noticed about him. You wanted to be independent, to rule on your own if not for the stupid deal, you thought he was going to slow you down, but you cant help but feel attached to him, ofcourse he didn't have to know anytime sooner, or...as you planned?
Something made you ick at the Dutchess of your own state talked to Dazai, twirling her hair, laughing, fluttering her fan, and then in the end you saw her and Dazai leaving together in a room...wait IN A ROOM?! That's when you drew the line. Yes you were in denial about loving him and you didn't like the forcible engagement but he was still ENGAGED to you.
You stood up and began to walk to the room and opened the door to see the two talking. "Dear Fiance please tell me where the restroom is in your palace" it came off a bit passive aggressive but ok. . She looked at you and then spoke to Dazai "please sir, i've been meaning to talk to you". He says "perhaps another time i do share your interest" as he left the room to lead you to the bathroom. "your seeing the dutchess??". You said abit agitated.
"shes gone she was flustered. It's okay she wanted to discuss diplomatic relations." You rolled you eyes. "i'm telling you really i have no eyes for anyone but-". You went deep into thought zoning out not hearing what he says. He said something about the reason he gives you gifts or something before you tapped out remembering the first time you met. When your parents signed your life away. When you felt him grab your arm.
"Did you understand what i said?". "YES. you were saying that you..." you stopped to think remembering the times he did stuff for you, When Dazai comforted you after harsh lessons, when he brought you gifts. He looked at you with a serious expression. "It means I love you, now we must return outside Father is looking for me bu-". You interrupted "yes we must return we have much to talk about my dear dear lord you love me, and it appears i love you to" You looked at him with a soft smile. He smiled, not a smirk like usual, a genuine smile as he closed the gap between you two kissing you softly for real.
A Happily Ever After. <3
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swanimagines · 6 months
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ENOLA HOLMES AO3 SERIESES
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EVERYTHING FOR ENOLA HOLMES
Enola Holmes (character)
Tewkesbury
Sherlock Holmes
Mycroft Holmes
(Any of the other characters don't have any requests written nor pending as for now, so I'm unable to have serieses for them as AO3 requires you to have at least one oneshot written to be able to add it to a series, and I can't promise serieses for characters who don't have requests pending/I have no ideas of my own for them)
For anyone who's concerned, THESE ARE NOT ONESHOT COLLECTIONS, they are made using AO3's "series" feature.
If you want to be informed about new fics for Enola Holmes or its individual characters, create an AO3 account and subscribe or bookmark any of those serieses listed above. There are buttons at the top right corner for those, or on top on mobile. I do not post any of my fics on Tumblr anymore, at least for now. I do not do taglists as AO3 has an inbuilt taglist.
Also, if you're wondering, requests are ALWAYS open and you're welcome to leave one or multiple. Just remember to read my rules and pick a request type from this list.
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willowpenguinwritting · 9 months
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Roses--- Enola Holmes oneshot short thing.
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Enola was on a walk with Tewksbury to "clear her head" at his suggestion. So far he had already stopped to smell five flowers, examine six and stroked at least two and they had only left 5 minutes ago.
It wasn't that Enola was specifically counting but she wanted the walk to be over and get back to thinking about her case. It was an interesting one and not quite what she expected.
Tewksbury stood up straight again after smelling another flower, "It was a petunia I had to." he tried to explain.
Enola shook her head, "Save it, I did not come on this walk for you to go on about flowers and expect me not to want to think about my case."
They walked a bit more, Enola was ahead and not speaking a word. Tewksbury was failing to cheer her up despite his desperate attempts his funny faces and voice impressions hadn't worked. Enola continued to lead and didn't seem to notice when Tewksbury stopped to admire a dandelion.
Enola paused in her path to look at some roses, "It's full of thorns."
"Well there are two ways to see it, you can be grateful that thorny plants have beautiful roses or ungrateful that roses have sharp thorns." Tewksbury smiled as he pulled out some gardening gloves from his back pocket.
She sighed, "I need to get back to my case." she said filling with agitation.
"Oh you need to get back to your case." mocked Tewksbury with a laugh.
Enola's response was simple and easy, jokingly punching him in the arm, "Oi, I am trying to pick you some nice flowers here."
"I have enough flowers from when you got me some this morning," Enola complained.
"If we still have spare vases we can have more flowers," Tewksbury said as he began to smell the petals.
Enola scowled "Last time you said that you used glasses and mugs and we had no drinking vessels other than bowls."
Tewksbury turned his puppy dog eyes to try and convince her.
"Stop looking at me like that," Enola said confused.
Tewksbury grinned, "Like what?"
"Like you're about to kiss me as if it will solve everything."
He grinned wider before leaning in to kiss Enola's cheek and gradually planted kisses along her cheek before reaching her mouth. It still felt as if there were fireworks exploding every time they kissed and for the marques of Basilwether, it was perfect.
Enola couldn't help but find herself smiling as they pulled away, exchanging grins filled with more happiness they lighted the fireworks again whilst kissing for a good few more minutes.
"Come on," Enola grinned, "I really do have to get back to my case now I've had my walk."
Tewksbury shook his head, he poked her nose gently before kissing her for a bit more. The firework show began to end as he knew Enola would only get more fed up if she wasn't to return to her case soon.
Enola held her hand out which Tewksbury took and together, hand in hand they headed back to the flat. It wasn't their flat as they didn't live together. It was Tewksbury's yet somehow Enola spent almost every day and night there.
When they arrived back on the doorstep were Tewksbury's seeds from his plant newspaper he was subscribed to. Enola smiled as she saw that they were roses. She was full of joy that her rose didn't seem to have thorns.
Enola set instantly back to her case board and finished off adding the string when she saw something had been added. It was a small piece of paper right in the middle with the words I love you written on it. It was in a cursive that couldn't belong to anyone but the Vicount Tewksbury, her Vicount Tewksbury. However, if her mother asked he was still a useless man. Well, it was still only a man on occasion. There were most certainly times when he would seem like a toddler hyper from too much sugar, which mostly occurred when they ended out near any sort of flower show.
Well, my previous Enola Holmes thing kind of went insane so I felt obliged to write another. I don't know if I quite got the character's mannerisms quite right but I tried to. I hope you enjoyed reading this!!
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heliads · 4 months
Note
Enola Holmes x sibling!reader who isn’t as smart as Enola and feels inadequate because of it; and gets hurt on a case and worries Enola?
'my mind isn't yours' - enola holmes
masterlist
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To be a Holmes is to be beyond anything or anyone else. No one in your family would ever say this aloud, of course; it didn’t need to be said, and all of your direct blood relations knew better than to say things that weren’t needed. You have your mind for the long, extensive, impractical thoughts, but spoken words are meant to be heard and pondered over for generations. A Holmes does not need to state their supposed victory over their neighbours. It is simply known and celebrated in the glorious expanse of their own private intellect.
Sometimes, though, again in the quiet confines of your mind, you wonder if this divine knowledge skipped a beat when it came to you. You may be a Holmes in blood and legal right, but that doesn’t mean you think like them. Sometimes, it feels a bit like being an outsider in your own family, watching Sherlock and Enola race off on proverbial puzzles while you sit back and try to pick up the pieces they’ve already put together.
You try not to let it get to you, but it’s hard not to feel some sort of inferior. You’re a clever student in your own right, but clever alone does not a Holmes make. You’re supposed to be a genius like your brother or a prodigy like your sister, but instead you just feel like you. Y/N Holmes, not a screwup in any sense but worse than that to some– completely, utterly normal. Base level. Right in the middle of the pack if a little bit above.
To a Holmes, though, mediocrity is a mortal sin. Sherlock and Enola seem leagues out of your reach. Since Enola is closest to you in age, you feel the sharp stab of that comparison with extra burn. She excels even despite the extra burden of being a young woman in this world of yours, but you could never burst the bubble and go shooting far beyond the stars like her.
You’ve never brought up any of this to either Enola or Sherlock, of course, but there’s no reason to do so. You have no doubt that they both realized your inadequacies compared to them far early on. Why comment on something that’s so obvious? Every time you’re working on a case together and they both figure out the twist in the plot ages before you, you can feel that deep cut slice open afresh. You don’t have to be a complete genius, you were never planning on becoming a mastermind academic anyway, but goodness knows you really want to feel like something compared to them.
It aches away, but what can you do? With your mother off doing who knows what, Sherlock and Enola are the closest you have to family. You have your friends, of course, but they don’t understand what it is to be a Holmes, even if you don’t entirely feel like one all the time either. To put it simply, it’s your siblings or nothing sometimes, and goodness knows there’s an awful lot of aching in nothingness even when the only alternative makes you feel terrible about yourself too.
And thus you find a way to sit on the outskirts of the case discussion and puzzle solving sessions anyway. Maybe you can’t always be the first to untangle the riddles, but you can be the first to offer up a cup of tea, and sometimes there’s something they’ve overlooked in their grand hurry to get to the finish line that you can point out and feel useful for along the way. It’s not awful, no, not in the slightest. You just wish it could be a little better as well.
You’re reminded of this little agony whenever they stumble upon a new case, which, as luck would have it, happened recently. Mysterious ransom notes are popping up all over town. Some group of strangers is threatening the top businesses around, demanding cash and gold in exchange for being left alone. No one was really taking the notes seriously until a small bank ignored the messages and had their establishment robbed before being burnt to the ground.
Now, the case has been turned over to the Holmes’ possession. Well, it’s been given to Sherlock and Enola, to be precise. They’ve been kind enough to allow you to join their inner circle while they try to puzzle the whole thing out, but you swear there’s this unspoken agreement that they’ll be the ones finding the solution, not you. It’s not like they’d ever bar you from speaking, they just know that you won’t have anything new to say that they hadn’t already come up with.
You sit silently, watching them go back and forth. Sherlock and Enola get lost in their own world at times like this, forgetting there’s even a country or universe outside of their feverish planning. At the end of an hour’s time, though, they’ve decided that the criminals must be hidden somewhere near an abandoned railway station near the southern end of the city, and that their main modus operandi involves bribing secretaries in each building to anonymously drop off the notes, then clue them into easy ways to get into the businesses without getting caught.
More importantly, this group of thieves has managed to get their hands on a master ring of keys to the city through bribing an overworked and embittered assistant of the chief inspector. So long as these crooks have that key ring, they’ll be able to let themselves into whatever building they please, and the demands will just keep worsening until the entire city has been wrung dry.
An idea is occurring to you. You may not have been able to figure out the clues quite as easily as Sherlock and Enola, but you can still be helpful. While they’re haggling over how exactly to move forward, an idea is already occurring to you. You take after your mother in one important manner:  you are a person of action. When you are given direction, you follow it exactly. And, when you come across a situation in need of a physical solution, you take charge and get the job down. Adrenaline is your best friend, followed quickly by good balance and good coordination. This, at last, is where you can step in.
Sherlock and Enola are too busy with their plotting to notice when you sneak out of Sherlock’s flat and creep into the city. You’ve got an hour or two until nightfall, which means it’s the perfect time to strike. These robbers will have day jobs and places to be. There’s a reason all of the attacks happened at night, it’s because these people had to keep up pretenses until they could break into the businesses under the cover of darkness.
That means you’ll have a very short window of time in which to find their hideout and grab the master key ring before they come back. You don’t doubt that the key ring will be in their foxhole near the abandoned railway station; they can’t exactly risk bringing it back to any of their respective flats and having it found out by the maids or neighbours.
You stealthily make your way over to the abandoned railway station. The sun is setting much faster than you’d like, so much for taking your time to thoroughly scout out the place. Then again, that doesn’t much matter. What’s most important is getting that key ring and getting out, then seeing the looks on Sherlock and Enola’s faces when they realize you’ve saved the day.
It is this thought of victory that propels you into the station house. You stalk down the dusty corridors, checking in rooms and peering in the drawers of desks. Most everything here seems long abandoned, but there’s one room at the far end of the hall that seems most frequently used, at least judging by the smears of fresh mud outside the door. 
After pausing to listen carefully in case of approaching footsteps, you quickly try the doorknob and are surprised to find it opens easily. These guys were so sure of themselves that they didn’t even bother to lock the door. You try a few drawers in the desk in the center of the room, and you grin in silent victory when you find the key ring sitting in one of them, covered halfway by a stack of folders labeled with the names of various buildings in the city.
You grab the key ring and the folders as well, just in case extra evidence is needed. Just as you’re straightening up, though, you hear sounds echoing through the dusty hallways. You panic, quickly closing the desk drawers and heading for the door. You won’t have time to run, though; you can see a silhouette in the corridor, right outside the door.
Instead, you flatten yourself to the wall right next to the door. Moments after you get into position, the door flies open and a man steps inside. Brow furrowed, he calls out a name, likely one of his compatriots.
“Miller? Was that you I heard?”
The second he’s clear of the door, you immediately scurry back outside. You do your best to be quiet, but the man whips around.
“Hey! Get back here!”
You’re not all that inclined to follow instructions, especially when doing so would likely bring great danger onto yourself, so you hurl yourself out into the corridor, dashing down the dusty floor in a mad sprint. The man immediately gives chase. He almost catches up to you by the end of the hallway, but a series of quick turns give you a chance to put more distance between the two of you again.
All that’s left between you and the freedom of the outside air is a wide, rickety staircase. You go up the stairs as quickly as you can. Risking a glance behind you so you can tell how close the man is behind you, your eyes widen when you realize he’s pulled out a knife. You’re almost to the top, so close, but the man lunges at you in an attempt to slow you down and you feel a hot pain as the knife cuts through your sleeve and slices your arm. It’s not a deep cut, or you don’t think so, at least, but it’s the extra incentive you need to push yourself to the top of the staircase and out into the open.
Immediately, you’re greeted with loud shouting. For a moment, you panic, and then you realize it’s the inspector with his men. “You’re alright,” one of them tells you, “Stand aside so we can put the thief under arrest.”
You nod, taking a hasty sidestep so you won’t get in their way. The robber comes up just seconds after you, but upon seeing the police, he immediately starts sprinting down the abandoned railway. The inspector and his men give chase, and you watch them go shouting down into the gloomy distance.
You’re not alone for long. Sherlock comes up to you, shaking his head. “That was an absurd move to pull. Give me the key ring and folders, I’ve got to get this to the inspector as soon as possible.”
You want to protest that you should be the one handing over the evidence since you went to so much trouble to get it, but one firm look from Sherlock reminds you of how much trouble you’re probably in for pulling a stunt like this and you quickly hand over the materials. He starts walking back towards the city proper, trading out his spot by your side with your sister.
Enola. Great. She looks furious. “Just what were you thinking?” She asks incredulously. “That was ridiculously stupid. And look, you’re bleeding. This is awful.”
You frown. “Don’t call me stupid.”
“I’m not calling you stupid, just the idea to break into the robbers’ hideaway,” she clarifies. “I mean, why on Earth would you feel compelled to do this?”
Looking at the tortured expression on her face makes the last of your confidence bleed away. The whole point of retrieving the key ring was so your siblings would finally feel like you might be one of their equals, but now they’re even more convinced of your bad decision-making skills. This was precisely the opposite of what was supposed to happen.
“Well, that’s the thing,” you say desperately. “If I can’t be the smart one, if I can’t be the one making all the clever plans and figuring out the loopholes like you and Sherlock, at least I can be the brave one. At least that’s something right I can do.”
Enola’s face slackens. “What are you talking about?”
You laugh bitterly. “I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now. Come on, you can crack cases and solve puzzles in your sleep but you can’t understand your own sibling? I’m not like you two. I’m not as smart as you and Sherlock, and I hate that.”
Enola shakes her head. “I’ve never thought that in my entire life. We’re both chatterboxes, obviously, but just because you weren’t talking as much as either of us didn’t mean I thought you weren’t as smart. I just assumed you were doing your thinking in your head instead of out loud, which was what I was supposed to be doing, anyway.”
You look at her cautiously. “Really?”
“Really,” she promises. “Y/N, the thought had never so much as occurred to me. I’m so sorry, I wish I had realized you felt this way sooner. You’re my sibling. Of course I hold you in the greatest regards. I mean, I never would have been brave enough to march into the thieves’ hideout like that on my own, not without several hours of planning to make myself better about it. You up and decided it just like that. I was so impressed with the whole affair, only I was so worried about you that I forgot to tell you.”
You smile at her. “I’m glad you think so, Enola.”
“Well, of course I do,” she says exasperatedly. “What else would I think about? Now come on, we’ve got to get that arm of yours bandaged. Maybe I’ll see about getting the paper to put something in about you being a local hero while I’m at it, too. It would be quite deserved.”
You laugh. “That’s more than I was expecting, to be sure. I’ll settle for knowing that you’re proud.”
“That, of course, is already decided,” Enola declares, and starts to lead you back into town. Watching the sun set overhead, you think that this little rescue mission of yours went quite according to plan indeed. Perhaps you’ll have to stage another one fairly soon.
enola tag list: @mayfieldss
all tags list: @wordsarelife
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magnet-girl · 1 year
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Oh boy after watching Enola Holmes 2, I can’t wait to dive into the Enola/Tewkesbury, Sherlock/Reader(OC) fics/oneshots.
Especially any Sherlock/Mira Troy (IYKYK) cause I swear he was interested
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make-me-imagine · 1 year
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Cheers To Us
Plot: After returning to London after a case, Sherlock decides to make up for some lost time.
Prompts: 'Making the reader a romantic dinner as a surprise' + 'Valentines Picnic' and 'Surprise reunion on Valentines Day' + 'Valentines Day proposal'
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Gn!Reader
Requested By: Anonymous; @anilynworlds & @will-grammer
Warnings: Use of Y/n multiple times
Words: 1.7k
A/n: Valentines Day at this time wasn't celebrated as much as it is now. Usually just with cards and maybe flowers.
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As Sherlock walked down the streets of London, arriving back after spending a little over week in the countryside on a case, his mind was on you. He was aware of the fact he had not been spending much time with you before he left on this case, and then he was gone for a few days longer than intended. He missed you.
Fearing you may think he is neglecting your relationship, he wanted it make it up to you. But, he needed to decide how. A gift, a day out, dinner, something more?
Stopping in his tracks as some women came out of a shop ahead of him, his eyes dropped to the papers in their hands. Frilly, seemingly handmade cards.
Suddenly it clicked in his mind what time of year it was. Valentines Day. The holiday had becoming more popular in London in the last couple years, but he had never paid it any mind. But now that he was in a relationship, perhaps he should.
As he looked into the shop, seeing various gifts, and flowers, he smiled softly as he entered the store. He may not be able to get back the time with you he missed out on, but perhaps he could create a special memory in its place.
After acquiring some flowers, Sherlock continued on his way down the street. Looking to his left as he passed another shop, he felt himself stopping again. This time, his eye was stuck on an engagement ring displayed in the window.
It was very you, it was perfect actually.
As he move towards the entrance, he stopped again, becoming aware of what he was doing. It was so natural, there was no hesitation, no second thought.
He felt his heart begin hammering in his chest as he thought more about it. Proposing to you, marrying you. Looking back at the ring in the window, Sherlock found himself smiling at the thought.
Why hadn't he thought about it before? The two of you never really talked about marriage, but he was aware you two acted like a married couple in many ways already. You had been considering moving in to 221B after Sherlock mentioned it a few weeks back. You were there so often you might as well live there.
After another short moment of thought, Sherlock stepped into the shop, with much more on his mind than before.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Opening the note you received from the carrier, your heart was beating excitedly. You recognized Sherlock's handwriting immedietely and you were eager to learn what he had to say.
'Dear Y/n, I've returned to London and I would like to have dinner with you. Tonight, seven o'clock. Tenderly, Sherlock.'
Though the message was a bit shorter than you had hoped, you were still excited at the idea of having dinner with him. You had not known when he would be able to return to London, and you feared it would be another week. It had seemed like forever since you last seen him, let alone spent time with him alone.
Checking the clock, you realized you still had a few hours to kill before seven. Hopefully it would go by quickly. Until then, you could decide what to wear.
After eagerly and impatiently waiting for the time to come, you finally made your way to Sherlock's apartment. Exiting the taxi, you smiled as you made your way quickly to his door.
Taking a breath before knocking, you felt an excited flutter in your chest.
As the door swung open, Sherlock's smiling face came into view.
"Y/n right on time." He greeted as he stepped forward, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
"Welcome back, I missed you." You said with a smile as Sherlock smiled down at you.
"Thank you. I missed you as well." He said softly as he gently caressed your cheek before leaning in to kiss you.
Your eyes fluttered closed as a warm tingle washed over you.
After pulling away, he held open the door for you to enter, where he quickly helped you to take off your jacket.
"How did your case go?" You asked with true curiosity.
Sherlock let out a soft sigh "It was a bit tedious at times, but I wrapped it up fairly easily." Looking around his apartment he cleared his throat a little. "I'm sorry for the mess."
Looking around you smiled, it was actually a lot cleaner than normal. There were still papers, reports, evidence and case boards everywhere, with no clean table in sight, but there was much more order to it than usual.
As you looked around more, you spotted in the middle of the apartment, something you were surprised you had missed.
A blanket was placed in the middle of the room with candles, flowers, plates and drinking glasses.
You let out a soft chuckle as you approached, understanding that this was the dinner Sherlock had invited you for.
Sherlock stood beside you looking down at it with a gaze of uncertainty.
You looked over at him and he shrugged his head slightly "I wanted to surprise you with dinner, but with the cooking, I had...forgotten to clear off the dining table. But, I thought this might do?"
You smiled, amused and touched. Kissing him on the cheek briefly you let out a soft giggle
"It's lovely Sherlock. It's like a picnic!"
"A picnic? Yes I suppose it is." He said with mild amusement. "Please, sit." He gestured at a plump pillow he had set on the floor for you.
As you sat down he crouched down, grabbing the flowers and handing them to you "For you."
You grinned as you took them, smelling them. "They're amazing Sherlock, thank you."
"You are very welcome."
As he made his way into his kitchen, you watched him with an adoring and amused smile as he moved around the kitchen with an almost uncharacteristic clumsiness.
"Can I help?"
"No no, it's fine." He said hurriedly as he began bringing over various plates and dishes of food.
You could tell there was much on his mind, and it made you wonder if it was all about this dinner, or if he was worried about something else.
As he sat down dish after dish you felt a growing amount of awe. Meat, vegetables, potatoes, breads.
"Wow Sherlock this is honestly a lot more than I was expecting. Actually I thought we would be going out, but this is so much more...intimate, and sweet."
Sherlock smiled with a bit of pride as he brought over some water and drinks. "I'm glad you approve."
As he sat down you leaned in a little. "Can I ask though. What is the occasion? As it seems a bit..."
"Out of character?" He finished.
You shrugged your head "A little."
He cleared his throat lightly "I am aware that we have not been able to spend much time together recently. So I wanted to make up for that, and, I was made aware this morning that it is Valentines Day, so I thought, it would also be something we might, celebrate?"
"Valentines Day, I forgot about that." You chuckled "I suppose it is a good excuse to be a bit more romantic. And as for making up for anything there is no real need Sherlock. Yes, I did notice we have not been seeing that much of each other, but I do understand your work is very important, I hope you didn't think I had ill will towards you because of it?"
Sherlock smiled at this as he shook his head softly "No, I didn't. But I did have some towards myself. You're the best thing that has happened to me in a very long time, I don't wish to neglect that. I suppose I just wanted to make sure you knew that."
You smiled brightly at him and he felt his chest clench.
"I do know Sherlock."
"Good."
Adjusting himself as he patted his pocket, he cleared his throat again "There is something else, I got for you."
"A gift?" You asked with light surprise "You didn't have to get me anything Sherlock."
He smiled "I know. And it's more of a...request, than a gift."
Feeling a sudden nervousness wash over you, you swallowed "A request?"
Reaching into his pocket, you eyes darted from his hand to his face as your heart started to pound.
"I wasn't aware of just how much I wanted to ask you, until I saw this in a shop window."
Pulling out a small black box, your breath caught in your throat. You said nothing until you were sure what he was about to ask. You would hate to make a fool of yourself, only to be greeted with something else.
As he opened the lid of the small box, and your eyes landed on a ring, your chest tightened and your breath hitched.
"I thought it was very, you."
He was right. It was perfect.
"Sherlock..." You trailed off into a whisper.
Sherlock smiled softly "I love you Y/n. I adore you. And I don't think I could think of anything more perfect than spending my life with you."
"I- I never thought you were interested in marriage." You admitted, aware your eyes were becoming a little hazy.
"I didn't think I was either. Until you. And now I know, that I want nothing more than to marry you. Do you wish to marry me?"
You grinned as you nodded your head eagerly "Yes, I do Sherlock."
His smile widened as you replied. Taking the ring out, he took your hand and slid it onto your finger. It was a bit big, but he could get it resized quickly.
As your eyes locked, you got to your knees and leaned across the dinner setting. Sherlock leaned forward as well, as you placed your hands on his face. He cupped your cheek as you kissed.
Pulling away a few moments later Sherlock couldn't remove his eyes from you as you continued to have a smile plastered on your face. You admired the ring, and Sherlock could tell he chose it perfectly.
Pouring you a drink, he rose his own glass in the air "To us?"
You grinned as you lifted your glass and tapped it against his own "To us."
xx End xx
I think I like this? lol I'm not positive, but I hope you like it too.
Reblogs are always appreciated~ :)
General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry
Cavil!Sherlock Taglist: @will-grammer, @multifandomfix-recs, @readingbookelf, @writerfulltime,
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ladysunamireads · 2 months
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Hey guys, deetra here
I know it's been a while , but I'm back with some fantastic news. So recently I watched enola Holmes and I really loved the movie. But the thing I love the most is Enola and Tewkesbury's friendship. I absolutely ship them.
So I will be writing a fanfic/ oneshot on their relationship
I promise it will be really nice
And ... I might also update my story on the dark crystal
Sayonara
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typicalopposite · 1 year
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Sooo… 😏😏
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and as a gift I ask y’all to give me ideas for multi fandom oneshots for a series I want to make (Bedtime Stories) that’s fairytale aus :)
Y’all would make my day with this! My fandoms are…
Spn (Destiel)
OFMD (Gentlebeard)
Stranger Things (Steddie)
Good Omens (Ineffable Husbands)
Lucifer
Starsky and Hutch (Starsky/Hutch)
Dark Angel
The Witcher (Geraskier)
Sherlock Holmes (RDJ Movie and Enola Holmes) (JohnLock)
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callmemaeverick · 2 years
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Mav’s Masterlist [Updated 12/29/22]
MARVEL
Bucky Barnes
Oneshot - Serenity  Moon Knight
Oneshot - Care-taker [MoonKnight System x Platonic!OFC] [AO3 Link]
HALO
MasterChief 
Oneshot - Anchor 
Series. - Smol and Tol [To be renamed] Part I, Part II, Part III, On Hiatus :( [AO3 Link]
THE SANDMAN [NETFLIX]
Dream of the Endless Series - Haven, ii, iii , On Hiatus :(
Oneshot
ENOLA HOLMES
Dangerous Games Series [Henry Cavill Sherlock Holmes x Reader] One , Two , On Hiatus :(
HOUSE OF THE DRAGON
 Flying on the Ground: In Sickness and In Health || Daemon Targaryen x fem!Reader
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