#would sherlock holmes wear a jean jacket

[acethegaycard]

A New Look?

Alternative title: What I would give genshin guys to wear

Basically Reverse isekai but now you gotta make normal outfits for the characters so they don't stick out like a sore thumb. It can also be read as modern AU outfits if you prefer

Characters in order:

Heizou, Xiao, Albedo, Zhongli, Wanderer, Kaeya, Venti, Ayato, Diluc, Kazuha

Honestly heizou would be an easy pick. Old fashioned British detective style. Sherlock Holmes, trench coats, shades of brown, all that jazz. Also, give him access to true crime podcasts, he'll never be bored again. 

I'd give xiao the ol' hot topic skater fit. Black, band tees, lots of rings and jewelry, fake pieces, ripped jeans, yeaa. It matches his personality too. Not with fashion but if you do get band t shirts tell him alot about said band just incase one of those "name five members or your not a true fan" people talk to him. 

Albedo gets the light academia scholar outfits. Kinda chill, collared shirts, lighter colors, shades of brown and blue. Some gold every once in a while. Loose fitting stuff. Flowy sleeves. Lots of rings. Maybe one or two gold necklaces that he wears every once in a while. The type of outfits you see those aesthetic college student wearing. Maybe a bit of cottagecore. Lots of white shirts. 

Zhongli would look like that one professor that everybody has a crush on tbh. Not as formal as what he wears in game but still, collared shirts, suits once in a while, always wears a tie, owns one dark brown trench coat that he wears everywhere at all costs. Lots of darker browns with gold accents here and there. Not a necklace kinda guy but wears a good amount of rings. Totally has reading glasses. Has alot of custom hair pins for some reason? Idk I just feel like he does. Has 100 pairs of dress shoes, and like one pair of black boots. Nothing else. Also If you give him his own closet it's so organized. Spotless, everything fits in the closet right, its honestly impressive. 

Wanderer would be alot like Xiao. Hot topic's no. 1 customer. He'd have more of a blue and purple color scheme than black though. Actually listens to all the bands he has shirts of. Big punk fan. Wears this one black beanie with a skull on it basically every day. His shoe game is good, like really good. Had alot of platform shoes so he can look taller. Lots of cropped shirts that looked ripped. No long sleeves, short sleeves and sleeveless tees. An absolute MASTER at makeup, specifically eyeliner. Lotsssss of turtlenecks. 

Ooohoho now Kaeya would be f u n to style. Has a more simple style. Those pinterest dudes?? Yeah, think of that. Plain colored shirts, turtlenecks alot, almost never sleeveless. Lots of long sleeves stuff.

Give him one of those black corsets that I always see, since he wears one on his original outfit. Wears necklaces, but doesnt layer them or anything. One simple necklace at a time. A TON of silver rings. Hes got those pinterest guy hands. Wears sheer black gloves. Has this one cropped blue jacket but it's more of a sweater and he always wears it when layering clothing. 

Hanging earrings are necessary for him. Has a belt with a snowflake design on it that he uses alot. Almost never wears sweaters. Wears blue, grey, and black almost religiously. 

Ahhh venti :) Think similar to albedos but more Victorian than college student vibes. Again, long sleeves, flowy, lotssss of ruffles, has a generous amount of green accents. Has this one emerald necklace that resembles a vision somewhat and he adores it. Never takes it off. Not a giant ring person, but has around a thousand hats. Paper boy hats in green, might own a bucket hat or two? Hes got the whole hat-universe. Always wear white socks that go just below his knees with EVERYTHING. Has multiple pairs and some are a bit more sheer than the others. Has a pair or two of white fingerless gloves to wear with long sleeves, and full, white and sheer gloves he wears when he isnt wearing long sleeves. White button ups are his life. Usually doesnt tuck said button ups in.   (Totally not a walking mitski reference) 

Ayato isnt THAT complex. And he's got similar style to Zhongli, but complety different color schemes. Wears suits often, and they follow a pattern. White shirt, black tie, light blue suit jacket. The icon of white pants, he basically never wears anything else. For smaller accessories they're usually dark blue or black in color. Not a ring person either, but wears one or two black rings occasionally. Has earrings but not dangly ones. Just black studs. Has alot of dark blue hair pins to keep his hair back. Theres no way his hair naturally just stays that way ok?? Every single boba place within 40 miles knows his name and face by memory. Wears the same looking black shoes all the time. 

Diluc is probably another trench coat kinda guy. Less suits, more trench coats for him. In the fancy looking suit and tie gang with Ayato and Zhongli. Usually wears black button ups instead of white ones, with a crimson red tie and a brown trench coat, or a white tie and a darker red coat. Totally not an accessories guy. No necklaces, earrings, and maybe just one single gold rings he wears once every century. Another black shoes only person. I feel like the coats he wear have some fur on them in places. Just a thought. Always carries around like 3 extra hair ties in his pocket just in case he need one. 

Kazuha is a comfy clothing icon. Not one for a thousand things on his outfits for aesthetic purposes, just wears what he likes and adds accessories if he feels like it.  And absolute king of the fall outfit aesthetic. Outfits usually consists of slightly baggy autumn colored shirts, always short sleeves. Sweatpants or just light colored/bleached cuffed jeans. (Yes I said CUFFED) And occasionally has a darker colored orange and red knit sweater over him. Probably has one or two necklaces on at a time. Always wears this one necklace with a gold chain and a maple leaf charm on it. A gold colored accessories person. Most of the rings he has are gold. Has his ears pierced and usually wears black or gold studs. Sonetimes he wears dangly earrings but nothing to crazy. Ties his hair back a lot less. 

(I wrote this on the train lmao)

#genhsin impact #genshin #genshin rambles #isekai #reverse isekai #sagau #sagau x reader #self aware genshin #heizou #xiao #zhongli #ayato #diluc #venti #kazuha #albedo #heizou x reader #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #ayato x reader #diluc x reader #venti x reader #kazuha x reader #albedo x reader #Sagau x reader #genshin modern au

[cameronsactivities]

Anderperry Week 2023, Day 6

(Proposal)

Romantics' Antics

“Todd, what’s your opinion on gay marriage?” Neil asked.

Todd looked up from his poetry in confusion. “I am gay?” He shut his notebook, flabbergasted. “We are a gay couple?”

“So you support it,” Neil said with no poorly-concealed smirk or other sign that he was pulling some elaborate joke. 

“Yes— Neil, what do you want?” Todd sighed in exasperation. 

“That’s interesting, Todd. I’ll keep that in mind.” Neil resumed reading his book and ignored all further attempts to get him to elaborate on his antics. 

Todd shook his head and got up to ransack Neil’s closet for a sweater, as the autumnal chill had begun worming its way into their apartment. When he unfolded a particular green sweater, a small black box tumbled out — a ring box. Todd’s heart rate began to climb. What had he just stumbled upon? He replaced the sweater and the box, trying his best not to smile or laugh. 

***

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Neil said, looking stunning with his sunglasses pushed up onto his head and his shirt ruffling in the breeze like a young sailor’s. He had booked a romantic ferry trip down the Hudson River, and they were watching the sunset on the stern of the ship.

“It is,” Todd agreed, watching the warm sun rays stain the muddy river orange. 

“I’ve got really good news for you.”

“What is it?” Todd gripped the ship’s railing tighter in anticipation. 

Neil smiled. “I got a role in a TV show!” he exclaimed. “It’s a medical drama loosely based on Sherlock Holmes.” 

“Really?” Todd said, simultaneously relieved and slightly miffed. His disappointment did nothing to contain his excitement for Neil, though. “That’s amazing!” he said, pulling Neil into a hug. 

***

Todd examined his reflection, a few shirts and jackets already tossed over the bed. Neil had, out of the blue, invited him to dinner. Although it was cliche to propose at a restaurant, he couldn’t stop thinking about the ring box he had chanced upon a few weeks ago. 

“Are you ready?” Neil asked, cracking the door ajar. 

“Am I overdressed?” Todd had no idea what kind of venue they were going to, and hoped his simple suit would suffice. 

“I think it’s great.”

“I feel like I wear blue too much.”

“Only because it looks amazing on you.”

Todd took his eyes off the mirror and turned to Neil, giving him a chaste kiss. “Let’s go.”

During dinner, his mind was taken off the ring box when they started recounting their Welton memories and favorite poems. It was only later that night, when Todd was lying next to Neil in bed, that he thought of it again, wondering if he should buy a ring and do it himself.

***

“I love you, Todd.”

“Mm-hm,” Todd responded without looking up from his book, as the phrase had become no less common than the sound of the coffee grinder in the Perry-Anderson household. 

“Would you spend the rest of your life with me?”

“Yes, Neil. We established that a long time ago.”

“Okay.” 

Todd felt something hit his shoulder, and found the black ring box in his lap. “What is this?” he said with a chuckle.

“A proposal.” 

“I know, but now?” They were both in sweatshirts and jeans, in the middle of their living room, reading by sunlight as they often did. 

“When else?”

“I don’t know, someplace more romantic,” Todd complained, or at least he pretended to. “You’re sitting on the couch.” 

“Was it Oscar Wilde who wrote ‘romance is in the uncertainty?’” Neil said ambiguously. 

Todd shrugged. “The poets are going to be so upset when I tell them you proposed on some random Saturday, especially Charlie.”

“Is it some random Saturday though?” 

Todd tried to recall any important dates in September. “Is today the anniversary of when we started junior year at Welton?”

Neil grinned. “It is.”

“I knew it!” Todd exclaimed, casting his book aside. “I knew it! I knew you there was some sentimental logic behind this. Keating taught us too well; you’re still a romantic!”

Neil laughed at Todd’s agitation. “I think you’ll be disappointed when you open the ring box, then.”

Todd had been so worked up about the mundaneness of the proposal he had forgotten to open the box. When he did, he found no ring — only a scrap of paper that said, “Marry me?” 

“Neil.” Todd stared into Neil’s eyes, which were filled to the brim with unsounded hysterical laughter. “Did you even plan this out?”

“Yes, of course. Why do you think I put the box next to your favorite green sweater?”

Todd’s jaw dropped, but it was quickly replaced with a smile. “You conspired with Charlie, didn’t you? I honestly cannot believe you did this to me. Neil!” Todd got up and chased Neil around the room, just like they did when they were younger, laughter in both of their mouths like lollipops.

They stopped each other with a kiss. “Wait. You didn’t say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ yet,” Neil said.

Todd laughed. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“I want to hear you say it.”

Todd cleared his throat. “Neil. Thank you for ruining the one and only proposal I will ever experience. Even if you don’t think it’s romantic, romance tends to find its way to you anyway. And I gladly accept it.”

#anderperry week 2023 #anderperry #todd anderson #neil perry #dead poets society #dps #proposal #really rushed tbh i could have expanded it more #but i am tired and i have not started tomorrow's post yet #curse myself for trying to subvert the genre #me and my silly rhyming titles

[datauthorress]

Free Fall [Chapter 1: Sherlock Holmes]

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes / Original Female Character

Summary: After moving to London to begin a fresh start and a new journey, Shelby has found it incredibly difficult to find a flat that will take animals, despite hers being a service dog. Upon meeting a fan of her work, she’s introduced to her new flat-mate, Sherlock Holmes, the only consulting detective in the world. Having read his blog, Shelby knows she’s in for an adventure as she becomes Sherlock Holmes’ roommate.

Rating: E

We apologize that this may be an inconvenience to you, but despite the paperwork of your service animal, we cannot allow you to rent with us because of liability issues…

         Shelby sighed heavily as she read through the email that had arrived in her inbox earlier in the morning. With chagrin, she discarded the email and sent it to the trash before closing out of the tab and shutting her laptop. Beside her, Panzer whined softly and laid his head on her thigh, knowing she was upset with the news.

         She had prepared immensely before coming to London.

         She had prepared a PO Box, had prepared her passport and visas and made sure everything had been switched over before moving to London, but she was still having trouble finding a place that would allow her to rent with them. Money wasn’t an issue. She had money, and plenty of it. But because she had a service dog, she couldn’t find a place.

         Panzer had been loyal to her for the last four years of her life. She had another service dog before Panzer, a beautiful golden retriever that had gotten sick with stomach cancer and had passed away at the age of seven. Shelby had been devastated and it had taken her two months to begin looking for a new service dog. Her insurance was, and still is, so good to her with everything she had gone through. The accident that made her a cripple with a bad leg and she had to walk using a cane, taking medications to manage the immense pain. Her heart condition, which she was always careful and took care of herself and the mental trauma that had come with everything since the age of 14-years old.

         The hotel room that she had been staying in for the last week was messy and disorganized, which caused her OCD to peak and her anxiety to rise. She needed to find a place, and fast, because she knew she was technically homeless.

         “Damnit,” Shelby muttered.

         She needed fresh air.

         Shelby took a quick shower and dressed in her usual attire, a pair of jeans that hugged her legs with a tee shirt and her worn, but still in good condition, leather jacket and boots that only reached just above her ankles. She searched through her shoulder bag to make sure she had everything and got Panzer ready, then headed out.

         The park that was near the motel was absolutely gorgeous and Shelby saw people walking about, enjoying the nicer weather. It was June, so it wasn’t too warm, decent enough, but bring a jacket once it cooled down at night.

         As Shelby walked down the sidewalk, she suddenly heard someone calling her by her last name.

         “Miss O’viere!”

         Shelby turned around to see a man approaching her, wearing a tan trenchcoat and carrying a briefcase. She arched an eyebrow, as she didn’t recognize the man before her. “Do I know you?”

         “Oh, no, you don’t.” the man said sheepishly. “I apologize. My name is Mike Stamford, and I’m a fan of your novels, especially Careless Whisper.”

         Ah. One of her shorter books. It had revolved around a doctor seeking revenge after his boyfriend had been killed by a gang. Nothing in her usual supernatural or fantasy style, but something that she had wanted to write with a bit of realism.

         “Oh, thank you.” Shelby smiled kindly. “I appreciate that.”

         “Would you mind signing? It’s not every day I meet one of my favorite authors.” Mike asked politely, bringing out the short book from his briefcase.

         “Absolutely,” she smiled, grabbing a pen out of her bag and turning to the first page, before signing her name in neat-calligraphy style. “Here you go,”

         “Thank you so much.” He beamed. “Coffee?”

         30 MINUTES LATER

         “So you’re struggling to find a place due to having a service animal?”

         “Yeah, and I get it, I do.” Shelby replied with a sigh, taking a sip of her coffee from the plastic cup. “But I need a place fast. I’m going crazy staying in that hotel room.”

         “Well,” Mike began. “I might be able to help you with that. A friend of mine is looking for a flat mate to share a flat with.”

         “Oh?” she asked, glancing over to him. “Well…..I would really appreciate that.”

         ��Great! Let’s go, I know where he’s at right now.”

         Fifteen minutes later, Shelby stepped out of the cab that had stopped in front of a building that she easily recognized as the hospital. Mike led her inside and around a series of hallways, before they walked through a set of doors and into a laboratory, where Shelby saw a man sitting at the table, looking through a microscope. He appeared to be tall and lanky, with curly black hair and wearing plain, but decent clothes.

         “Mike, can I borrow your phone? No signal on mine.” The man asked without looking up from the microscope.

         “What’s wrong with the landline?” Mike asked.

         “I’d rather text.”

         “Sorry, other coat.”

         “Oh, um, here.” Shelby spoke, bringing out her cell phone (which was a Samsung 22 Galaxy Ultra). “You can use mine.”

         “Oh, thank you.” The man said and stood – to which Shelby noticed he was tall, nearly a whole head taller than her – before walking over to her and taking her phone, before pulling up her messaging app to start a text. “Afghanistan, or Iraq?”

         Shelby furrowed her brow, confused. Was he talking to her? She glanced over to Mike, who gestured his head back to the other man. “Um, I’m sorry?”

         “Which was it? Afghanistan or Iraq?” the man said, finally turning his attention to Shelby and she was startled by the pair of sapphire blue eyes he held.

         “Um, none.” Shelby replied, shaking her head.

         “Really? You strike me as the type.”

         “I was never in the military.”

         The man arched an eyebrow, before handing her phone back to her. “Car accident, quite deadly, I’m afraid.” He said, and Shelby’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “They tried surgery, tried many different things, but you grew tired of your leg being operated on, so you chose to live with the crippling pain and take pain medications for it.”

         “W-wait, wait.” Shelby stammered, putting a hand up. “How do you-?”

         Before Shelby could finish, a woman with her brunette hair tied back came into the room, holding a fresh cup of coffee. “Coffee!” the man exclaimed, reaching around Shelby to take it. “Thank you, Molly. Wait, what happened to the lipstick?”

         “It…...wasn’t working for me.” The woman, Molly, replied.

         “Really? I thought it was a big improvement – mouth’s too small now.”

         Shelby gaped at the tall man, who sipped his coffee as if nothing was absolutely wrong. She glanced over to Mike again, who just shook his head at her. Molly said a meekly ‘okay’ before leaving the room.

         “How do you feel about the violin?” the man asked, turning his attention to Shelby.

         “Um, just fine. I play violin once in a while.” Shelby replied.

         “Oh. Excellent!” the man said gleefully. “I play the violin when I’m thinking, and sometimes I don’t talk for days on end – would that bother you? Potential flat mates should know the worst about each other.”

         Shelby was extremely confused. She glanced at Mike. “I thought…...you never told him about me?”

         “I’ve never met you until today,” Mike stated. “I haven’t said a word.”

         “Okay,” she muttered before turning her attention back to the other man. “Who said anything about flat mates?”

         “I did. I said to Mike this morning, that I was a difficult man to find a flat mate for.” The man replied. “Now he turns up after lunch with a woman who clearly just moved to London and is having trouble finding a flat due to having a service dog, which you have due to your leg and possibly other issues.”

         “Why….did you ask if I was in the military?” Shelby asked, letting out a light sigh.

         “Your leg and the service dog,” he answered. “But you were clearly not in the military after you said so, so a car accident was the second most likely reason.”

         The man walked around the table and pulled on a long coat, as well as a blue scarf to wrap around his neck. “I’ve got my eye on a nice little place in central London – together we could afford it. Although money doesn’t seem to be an issue for you. We’ll meet their tomorrow evening, 5 o’clock. Sorry, got to dash – I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary.”

         “So that’s it?”

         “Is what it?”

         “I just met you not five minutes ago and we’re going to go and look at a flat.” Shelby said.

         “Problem?”

         “We don’t know a thing about each other! I don’t even know where we’re meeting!”

         The man locked his gaze on her and a tiny smile caressed his handsome features. “I know you were in a car accident that took the use of your leg and now you walk with a cane. You have mental trauma and physical trauma because you have a service dog. You’re originally from America, due to your Mid-Western accent. You’ve got a large family, whom of which didn’t approve your move to London and all are extremely worried about you. You moved to London for a fresh start and need a place that I know will have no trouble taking in your service animal.”

         Shelby’s jaw slightly dropped in utter astonishment. What……what was going on here?

         “The name’s Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221b Baker Street. Afternoon.” The man told her, before sending a wink her way and leaving the laboratory.

         Shelby turned to Mike with an expression of immense surprise.

         “Yeah, he’s always like that.” Mike chuckled.

         “What the hell just happened?” Shelby asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

         “Trust me, you’ll get used to it.” Mike said.

         “Fuck me,” Shelby muttered.

#fic: free fall #sherlock holmes [bbc] #;relationships [sherlock/shelby] #sherlock bbc

[travellermp3]

tagged by @lam-ila (thank you so much!!)

What book are you currently reading?

A collection of Sherlock Holmes short stories (right now I'm on The Red-Headed League)

Favourite movie you saw in theaters this year?

Nope or The Black Phone

What do you usually wear?

Jeans, random t-shirt, and a jacket or hoodie

How tall are you?

5'8

What's your star sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or historical event?

I'm a pisces and I share a birthday with George Washington

Do you go by your name or nickname?

My name

Did you grow up to become what you wanted to be as a child?

Not yet, but I still have hope I can be a paramedic

Are you in a relationship? If not, who is your crush if you have one?

Nope, and I kind of have a mild crush on a coworker? Idk there's a weird tension between us because I think he also likes me, but I could be reading the situation wrong lol

What's something you're good at vs something you're bad at?

I'm good at writing and I'm horrible at math

Dogs or cats?

Cats!!

If you draw/write/create in any way, what's your favourite picture/line/etc from something you created this year

This was from a poem I wrote for one of my classes back in May

...but maybe I already know it, and I've just forgotten

the secret. The secret to bending but not breaking.

To withstand the blowing wind.

What's something you would like to create content for?

I wanna write some more stuff for MW2

What's something you're currently obsessed with?

Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2. Literally the only thing occupying my brain right now

What's something you were excited about this year that turned out to be disappointing?

I don't know, I didn't have a lot of hope for this year but it was alright

What's a hidden talent of yours?

This is neither a talent nor hidden but I can't think of anything else. I'm really good at breaking down medical terminology

Are you religious?

I am what I like to call Diet Mormon or LDS Lite

What's something you wish to have at the moment?

I want to see my cat

#tag game #i love doing these they're so much fun #but i'm also horrible at tagging people so if you see this; feel free to act like i tagged you!!

[shiningstardan]

Fanfic: Will You Still Love Me?

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Read on: Tumblr - AO3 - Fanfiction.net - Wattpad

Pairing: Mycroft x Gregory Lestrade

Fandom: BBC Sherlock

Rating: Teen and Upper audiences

Word Count: 725

Reading Time: 3:33 min

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~ Will you still love me? ~

On the Phone

-Any plans for the friday?

-Nothing that can´t be fix. Should I schedule an appointment?

-I think a date would be more appropiate

-…

-Mycroft?

-Are you asking me out Detective Inspector?

-The hell I am

-In that case I think something can be arranged then- he said with a shy smile on his lips

On Friday

It was mid July and London nights were hotter than ever. Mycroft was wearing his most casual attire possible, he had agreed to meet Greg in a restaurant who he reserved just for speacial ocassions. The manager had reserved the roof section for him and his companion alone. As usual he was the first to arrived to the place and took the chance to contemplate the city, no so far the London eye could be with it’s shinning bright lights..

-Hey there- Greg’s voiced made Mycroft turn around and when he saw Gregory in fron of him, he was breathless, his spiky gray hair contrasted with his tanned skin, he was wearing a plain t-shirt, red wine leather jacket, dark jeans and sneakers -Looking good- he said admiring Mycrofts outfit which consisted of an ivory button up with the first buttons loose and rolled sleeve, accompanied by a pair of light blue pants and camel oxfords.

It had been long since Mycroft had gone on a date with someone, mainly because of his hectic schedule but also because relationship with other humans were something that he found terrifying, but Gregory was always good company.

-I think I still haven´t thank you for helping me choose my suit for John’s wedding.

-Oh, that.. It was nothing.

-I wouldn´t say it that way- he answer him placing his hand in his lower back and walking him to the table in the center of the rooftop, both of them took their seats and started looking at the menu, the restaurant had some french dishes. After ordering their plates Mycroft could feel the intense stare of Gregory on him.

-Is anything the matter?

-You have pretty eyes, the shine bright like diamonds.

-I don´t know how should I reply to that

-A smile will do- Mycroft stare back at him blank expression in his face, he wanted to show Gregory his caring side but…

-It’s been a while, you should know that

-Since your last smile?

-Since my last date

-Well I don´t do casual, this won´t be a one time thing.

In that moment his waiter arrived with their food and served the wine in their glasses, the food was delicious and they both enjoyed it but when it came to Gregory the idea to order some creme brulee Mycrofts insecurities came to the surface and even though words were not said Greg noticed his change in his body lenguage.

All of his life Mycroft had always had a sweet tooth and even if he restrained himself a lot more than before gaining weight was something that he always found himself struggling with.

-I don´t know if I should.

-A small bite won´t make you loose your fantastic figure- this time Mycroft actually blushed. Maybe one bite woudn´t be that bad. To his great surprise Greg cut a little piece and offer to feed him and even though it was a little embarrasing he still accepted it. 

-It’s quite hard for me to understand what made you aks me out

-That’s a very simple question Mycroft Holmes- he said puting the spoon down freeing his hands, he moved his chair sitting closer from the other man- Aren´t you enjoying yourself? I certainly am, I like you, you are sensitive, analitical, intelligent but most of all you are caring even beneath all those layers you have. 

As mundane as it sounded it was an honest reply and Mycroft thanked for it more than any other meaningless fancy words Greg could have used instead. 

-I have nothing to offer but my being but if you give me a chance to be with you, to share precious moments together, to create memories in new places I will dedicate to myself entirely to you until you get bored of me.

-Oh Gregory I don´t think that would ever be possible- he said laying down to kiss Greg softly in the lips.

The End

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If you liked the fanfic and wish to translate it (not to spanish tho) or create art from it. Please know you have full permission, just @ me :)

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#mycroft holmes #greg lestrade #mystrade #Mystrade fanfic #sherlock fanfic #bbc sherlock #ShiningStarDan fanfics #BBC Sherlock #lana del rey #young and beautiful #fanfics #fics english #ShiningStarDan

[tink27]

What if John and Sherlock met as kids? (short fluff)

No one in the Holmes household noticed when the young Sherlock Holmes went missing out the back gate, clutching nothing but a cleaned out empty jam jar in his hands, which were not yet big enough to fit all the way around.  

His excellent plan (if he did say so himself) was to collect samples of local bugs and to examine the rate at which they would decompose. His new nanny (vegetarian, going off the hemp tote bag, and the small scrunched up expression she pulls as she makes his ham sandwiches) seemed completely opposed to the idea, so sneaking off was necessary.  

Thankfully, there was plenty of data to find, with his house located on the edge of town with plenty of woodland area a short walk away (even when walking with child-sized legs). Speed however was imperative, he had approximately 25 minutes before the nanny realised it was not sherlock ‘playing’ with his microscope that she could see, peering into his room. But rather a stack of pillows wearing a jacket and a curly black costume wig, with a tape looping his voice including all of his latest deductions, of which he had recorded the day before.  

When you are 9, any plan that takes more than one day of planning feels astronomically important, even for the mature William Sherlock Scott Holmes, and succeeding was paramount. Because of this, Sherlock was running fast as he could, nothing on his mind but finding soil damp enough for worms, and rocks large enough to cover up significant family of woodlice. Therefore, he wasn’t able to notice the tangle of his undone shoe laces, making the little boy fall rather quickly, not even able to catch himself as both small hands were occupied with the all-important jar for his specimens.

Now, those who knew Sherlock Holmes rarely saw the little boy cry, even at age 9 he had decided it was weak and unbecoming (subconsciously copying his stiff and repressed older brother), so he was immensely grateful that no one was there to see the large tears that forced themselves from his eyes, stinging the rather large graze he has gotten across his cheek.  

“Hello”  

The soft voice startled the tearful boy, and for a moment all he could do was stare. There in front of him stood a boy, maybe slightly older than himself dressed in jeans, a muddy blue and white rugby top and dirty shoes that were once white and pink, with black marker smudged over the pink in an attempt to cover it, if sherlock was not so destressed he would have deduced that he was a poor boy, wearing his older sister's hand-me-downs, and is embarrassed about it.  

As Sherlock stared the boy got closer, choosing to sit with his legs crossed in front of him, pulling a crumpled packet of tissues out of his pocket, holding one out to Sherlock. This interaction snapped the crying boy out of his shock and he clambered to his feet, adamantly rubbing his tears away on his t shirt, feeling quite angry that this boy had walked in on his moment of weakness.  

The boy did not appear to be judging Sherlock though, he was not laughing at him or smirking. Still, he had little trust for people his age, and did not like to risk being made a fool. So, he held his head high and walked past the boy, aware of the time he lost to his fall and the questions he would need to answer upon returning home.  

“Wait!” the boy said, shocked at the cold reaction, and yet not deterred. No boy his age had ever acted like this boy, and the small John Watson knew he had to be his friend. Using all of his 10 years of knowledge in making friends, he decided the best course of action was to introduce himself.

“My name is John” he declared, walking quickly to fall into step with the dark-haired boy, and upon realised he was not getting an answer asked “what's your name?”

Now, weather John knew this or not he had just introduced Sherlock with a difficult question. At their age, insults were uncreative and simple, and yet one thing kids their age seemed to know was that Sherlock’s name was ‘weird’. He was therefore expecting the same reaction from this normal looking boy, and steeled himself as he plainly said “Sherlock Holmes”  

Sherlock had avoided eye contact as he declared his name, but if he had been looking at John he would have seen the amazement on his face “Wow!” he exclaimed, grinning “you sound like you’re from a book!”

This was.... new for Sherlock, something almost like a compliment, before he could figure out how to respond, John took his silence as a sign to carry on.

“really, you should take the tissue, if you let that cut get dirty you could get an infection, your face would swell up and get all gross” he sounded perversely pleased as he said this, the same way many little boys did when mentioning something ‘icky’.  

Sherlock was not one of those little boys and at the implication that his face could “get all gross” was not fun, and he promptly snatched the tissue that was still in johns fist and rubbed at the graze on his cheek.  

“no! Not like that!” john said, sounding rather alarmed as he stole the tissue back and to sherlocks horror spat on it, rubbing it onto sherlocks face to get rid of the grime. John did not see an issue with this, he saw plenty of mothers outside the school gates licking at their thumbs to rub dirt from their children's cheeks, this was no different, and it couldn’t be dirty if mums did it.  

“what on earth do you think you're doing?” Sherlock asked with horror at having a stranger's saliva on his face

“cleaning your cut, now stay still and stop talking like the queen” John said, with no malice, he had simply never heard anyone in real life talk the way Sherlock did, especially kids, and the queen was the poshest person he could think of.  

Sherlock wanted to reply, but as John wiped his face with one hand and held his chin still with the other, he felt oddly little need to protest. He felt... cared for.  

As John pulled away he smiled a big toothy grin at Sherlock, showing off a missing front tooth

“all better” he declared affectionately, stepping back “why were you running so fast with a jam jar anyways?”

Sherlock suddenly remembered his all-important task, and took off with a surprisingly serious expression for someone so young “I am looking for bugs, I want to keep them and then observe the rate at which they decompose”

Sherlock though this was bound to disgust his new companion, but was pleasantly surprised when the golden boy grinned and asked “can I help?”

#johnlock #bbc sherlock #kid!lock #sherlock holmes #John watson #sherlock au #kid john watson #kid sherlock #young sherlock holmes #sherlock x john #john x sherlock #johnlock fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #johnlock imagine #short fanfic #this was purely self indulgent #I love the idea of John meeting lonely little sherlock and being his friend

[liunaticfringe]

(via Lucy Liu's Independent Woman - Interview Magazine)

There have been many great sidekick pairings in the history of modern literature. Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer, Phileas Fogg and Jean Passepartout, Winnie-the-Pooh and Piglet…the list goes on. Yet, it seems there has never been a delightfully tumultuous relationship that comes close to echoing the one embodied by rogue detective Sherlock Holmes and his faithful friend and assistant Dr. John Watson. Written in the form of short stories by Arthur Conan Doyle between the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the opium-den loving Holmes would terrorize London with his intellectual, astute, and stubborn prowess, with Dr. Watson providing medical expertise and chronicling their entertaining exploits along the way.

Doyle’s works have now long been entered into the public domain, with many film and television adaptions cropping up every few years. Still, when CBS announced in 2012 that it would be turning Doyle’s works into an hour-long crime-drama series titled Elementary, it elicited an unusually high response—this was mostly due to the news that a woman would, in fact, be portraying Watson. Her name would be Joan, not John. And she’s now a fallen from grace surgeon-turned-sober companion and private detective, forfeiting her “Dr.” title in the process. The woman chosen to take on this exciting, contemporary role of Joan Watson was none other than seasoned actress Lucy Liu.

Liu, who’s best known for her roles as a fierce and ill-mannered lawyer in Ally McBeal, an ass-kicking “angel” in the rebooted Charlie’s Angels, and an equally ass-kicking bad girl in the Kill Bill series, certainly provides the yin to the yang of Jonny Lee Miller’s gritty portrayal of Holmes. Elementary chronicles the duo’s relationship as they consult for the NYPD on various criminal cases while living in a shared brownstone in Brooklyn Heights. Initially starting off in Season One as a substance-free friend to the fresh-out-of-rehab Holmes with a keen interest in solving crimes, Watson quickly transformed into a sharp and observant right-hand woman who now clearly has the aptitude to work on her own. And it appears she’ll be doing just that—the end of Season Two left viewers witnessing Watson’s decision to move out of the brownstone and start a new career as a solo private detective, seemingly fed-up with Holmes’ erratic behavior.

The warm and delightful Liu recently called up Interview from her home in New York City to discuss Elementary’s upcoming third season.

DEVON IVIE: Were you on set today?

LUCY LIU: I was running around like a maniac, yeah. It’s beautiful today, it started getting a little bit cooler again. But of course I’ve been bitten by the two mosquitos that are still alive in New York City.

IVIE: I know you were recently at New York Comic Con. How was it?

LIU: It was amazing. It’s such a spectator place. Not only do you get super fans, but you also get people who are curious and inventive and imaginative. It’s fun.

IVIE: Did you run into any cosplayers dressed as Joan Watson?

LIU: Oh, no, I don’t know about that. That’s funny! We did a panel with a huge audience so I couldn’t really see if anyone was wearing anything specific, but it’s an excuse for kids and adults to get dressed up and just be crazy. You know you’ve made it when you have super-fans out there.

IVIE: When you first read the scripts for Elementary, what was it that attracted you to the role of Joan?

LIU: I liked the fact that it was going to be about [Joan and Sherlock’s] relationship and their friendship, and bringing that into modern times. And I thought it was wonderful to change up the gender.

IVIE: Did you immerse yourself in Arthur Conan Doyle’s work as preparation at all?

LIU: I did, I did! I started reading the short stories. I never read them before so it was a really great excuse to read them. I can’t believe it was written so long ago, because it’s so current. The characters are so colorful, which is why I think there are so many incarnations of Watson and Holmes.

IVIE: Do you have a favorite story? I love “A Scandal in Bohemia.”

LIU: There were some pretty amazing stories. The one that stood out to me, which was a Watson story that I got to know him a little more through, was “The Hound of the Baskervilles.” He really is on his own in that. Of course it turns out that Holmes has been there all along, but it’s interesting looking into his interior.

IVIE: Yeah, the entirety of “The Hound of the Baskervilles” is narrated just by Watson. And his diary and letters, too.

LIU: Yeah, I think it’s really cool. We started incorporating that into the show, too, the letters and journals.

IVIE: Has this detective genre always appealed to you? Did you grow up watching or reading detective whodunits?

LIU: I remember more of the old school Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys sort of thing. I also grew up with the Scooby-Doo mysteries. Remember when the villain would go, “I would’ve gotten away with it if it weren’t for you rascal-y kids!” Those were the kind of the things I immersed myself in. I have to say that my mother has always been a huge fan of Columbo and Murder, She Wrote, so this show was her dream come true. I don’t think she totally understood what was going on with Ally McBeal. [laughs]

IVIE: I’ve enjoyed witnessing Joan’s evolution throughout the course of the show, starting off as a sober companion and eventually ending up as a trusty sidekick and confidant to Sherlock. What can we expect from Joan in Season Three?

LIU: When you see them in the third season, you see some friction between the two characters. Joan is now on her own, she has her own detective agency, has a boyfriend, and has been without Sherlock for eight months. She’s got her own apartment, she’s settled, and he shows back up. I think she’s a little bit hurt by what happened and how their relationship and partnership ended, which was basically his decision and his choice, and he left it all in one little note for her. I think she felt that their relationship was much deeper than that, and that he was dismissive in the way that he handled that.

IVIE: How would you define the relationship between Joan and Sherlock?

LIU: I think that it’s a really positive and good relationship, overall. They really have a good chemistry together, work really hard together, and understand each other. They acknowledge each other and respect each other, which is a really important way to have a friendship. And they can learn from each other, you know? She’s very curious about him and I think he sees that she’s a very smart person—that’s vital for him in having respect for someone, having them be intelligent and thinking for themselves.

IVIE: Do you see any of Joan in yourself?

LIU: I do to a certain degree. She’s a lot more measured and patient, for sure. She’s a very curious person, which I think I am, and I think she isn’t afraid of change. She was a doctor, and then became a sober companion, and then jumped off and became a detective. I think sometimes it’s good to make big leaps.

IVIE: You’ve probably been asked this question many times, but do you think a romance between Joan and Sherlock could ever fittingly happen?

LIU: It’s a question that’s often asked and I think it’s really up to the executives. Rob Doherty, the creator [of Elementary] really feels incredibly strongly about keeping their relationship platonic. He has already taken great strides to keep the relationship as clean as possible according to the literature, but he has also changed so much of it by changing the gender of Watson. To have them have a romantic involvement would turn the whole thing upside-down in a way that might really jump the line. [Doherty] felt really strongly about it and I think that’s the one thing he really wants to stay true to.

IVIE: I totally agree. Even on the BBC’s Sherlock, there are campaigns to get Benedict Cumberbatch’s Sherlock and Martin Freeman’s Watson to become romantically involved. It’s like, enough already, no!

LIU: No way, that’s so weird! People do have that level of friendship oftentimes, but it doesn’t mean it’s physical. I think that everyone just assumes because there’s chemistry the next thing should be happening. I would vote “no” for a romance. I think for sure the creator would vote no on that, too.

IVIE: I’ve talked to both women and men who watch Elementary, and they all consistently mention how well dressed and fashionable Joan is. Do you collaborate with the wardrobe department on styling decisions at all?

LIU: That’s awesome. Yes, I collaborate with Rebecca [Hofherr], who’s the costume designer, who’s wonderful. She’s very easy to work with. One thing we try to maintain about Joan and her style is that she’s a bit wrinkled, you know what I mean? Sometimes it looks like things are really put together, but we always want to make sure things aren’t too tight and are comfortable, kind of like she throws things together. We don’t want it to seem so business-y, so we go away from suits. Chic, but not corporate. Also just to make her seem like her outfits aren’t so put-together all the time. But I’m glad that people really seem to like it, it’s a relief! We don’t splurge a lot on the show, we try to do cheaper things, like things Joan would wear a lot. She wears the same white jacket and shoes frequently.

IVIE: Will we be seeing more of the infamous Clyde the Turtle in the upcoming season?

LIU: Clyde will indeed be in it again. We have to share custody of Clyde.

IVIE: Is it true that Clyde is actually two tortoises? Pulling a Mary Kate and Ashley in Full House on us?

LIU: Yes. It’s just like having twins on a show. Just in case one is crying and screaming and passed out or something.

IVIE: You made your directorial debut for an episode of Elementary last season [“Paint It Black”]. Do you have plans to direct an episode again soon?

LIU: That was so exciting. I’ll be directing another episode again very shortly in December, so you’ll be seeing it in a month and a half.

IVIE: Where did your interest in directing come from?

LIU: I guess I was curious about it. Having been in this business for a while, you kind of see and get a glimpse of everything doing film and television. I think it seemed like a natural progression to go into directing, and I hope to explore more of it, because it’s very exciting and a really good way to collide all the things that you’ve known and experienced in the business and put them all into one.

IVIE: Is there an ideal guest star that you’d like to see on the show in the upcoming season?

LIU: I would love to see Mycroft come back. I really think there was a wonderful tension for Mycroft and Sherlock as well as the triangle that occurred when Joan became involved with him. There’s something very deep about that relationship, and I also think that Rhys Ifans is a fantastic actor. He commands the screen, but off-screen he’s incredibly lovely. A real treat to have on the show.

IVIE: I remember the first few episodes that I saw Rhys in, I was like, where have I seen this guy before? So I looked at his Wikipedia page and it became obvious: he was the crazy guy from Notting Hill!

LIU: Yes, the roommate! So good! Everything he does, he just kills it, no matter the role.

IVIE: And it’s always good to have some MI6 action on the show, which Mycroft provided. Some international flair.

LIU: [laughs] International flair, exactly, some added spice. Just throw some spy stuff in there to throw people off their game. You just don’t expect it, you know? It came out of nowhere.

IVIE: That whole three-episode arc at the end of the second season…

LIU: That was awesome. I was lucky enough to direct one of those episodes, which is more narrative in tone. It’s more fun in some ways, too.

IVIE: You’ve done a range of acting work for both television and film. Do you now find yourself preferring one to the other?

LIU: I love both of them equally. The lack of predictability with television is something that’s constantly changing what your perception of who you think your character is. Suddenly I have a father that’s schizophrenic, or I discovered something else, or I have a relationship with Mycroft. The things that pop up and change the game for you and always keep you on your toes. The wonderful thing about film is that you have something that has a beginning, middle, and end, and you have a concrete amount of time to shoot it. And the process of that can be longer, like editing and advertising and testing the movie, so it’s very different. Television you just continue going, no matter what’s happening outside of your world. You get lost in that vortex a little bit.

IVIE: It’s interesting that America is now embracing the “mini-series” format that has already been so heavily utilized overseas, where there are a set amount of short episodes, and that’s it. In a way, it’s kind of like a cinematic experience.

LIU: I like that, too. It allows you to have a freedom of creativity and at the same time you don’t feel like you have to be contracted to something for that long; you’re really working on a piece of art. And then you’re done and you move on, or it comes back, like Downton Abbey. You don’t know. Those things become little masterpieces. The thing about television is that you see a range of actors now that you may not have seen five years ago even, 10 years ago absolutely not, and I think now there’s no wrong about doing television. There’s no definitive category for what kind of department you fall into anymore.

IVIE: What’s a fun, secret fact about your costar Jonny Lee Miller?

LIU: A fun fact about Jonny Lee Miller is that he oftentimes does handstands on a wall before he does a take, sometimes with pushups, to get blood to his brain and get him geared up for a long monologue that he may have. He stays there, hangs a little bit, and then turns around and does the scene. Most of the time in the brownstone more than anywhere else. He’s in full costume and everything. That’s trivia!

IVIE: I wish I could do wall-handstands by myself.

LIU: Oh my god, I need someone to push my legs up and then hold me there. I’m a cheat!

ELEMENTARY PREMIERES THURSDAY, OCTOBER 30 ON CBS.

#Lucy Liu #Interview #2014 #comic con #jlm #mycroft #wardrobe #directing #third season #joanlock

[multifandomfanfiction]

Uptown Girl

TITLE: ​ Uptown Girl PAIRING: Jack “Agent Whiskey” Daniels/OC RATING: T CHAPTER: One-shot SUMMARY: Jack, as the face of Statesman, has to go to business events and at this one, he meets a girl who’s not like anyone he’s ever met before.

[A/N - Requested by @arelyhb​. I hope to like this! I enjoyed writing the banter so much!]

Whiskey hated these events. As the face of Statesman, he was required to attend all types of functions.

And that included business parties.

As much as Jack loved working in the New York office (it got him away from that asshole Tequila), he missed Kentucky. Kentucky was his home.

You can take the boy out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the boy. Which is why he’d arrived dressed in a pair of tight blue jeans, cowboy boots, white button up shirt, casual suit jacket, and a bolo tie. And of course he had his signature Stetson on his head.

Sure, it made the yuppies look down on him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He already stood out with his accent.

He’d left his lasso and whip at home, not wanting to draw more attention to himself than necessary. His gun was tucked under his suit jacket. He technically wasn’t allowed to carry one, but as a Statesman agent one could never be too careful.

He made the rounds, making small talk while he slowly made his way to the bar. He was going to need something stronger than champagne to get through this evening. “Whiskey,” he told the bartender. He was named after the drink, both his codename and his birth name, so naturally it was his favorite.

The bartender handed the tumbler to him and he took a sip and looked around. He spotted a pretty brunette at the other end of the bar.

She was dressed in a form fitting red dress and he could imagine she had on matching heels.

“Send her a beer. Put it on my tab,” Whiskey said.

“Sure, man.” The bartender handed her the beer.

He watched them talk and then the bartender pointed at him. Whiskey raised his glass to her.

She rolled her eyes and pushed the beer away.

Okay, now this woman had his attention. He finished his whiskey and walked over to her. “You haven’t touched your beer, darlin’.”

She turned to him with a condescending smile. “Beer is for blue collar workers. I only drink wine.”

“Then what can I get you, sugar?”

“Merlot.”

Whiskey had to stop himself from laughing. Agent Merlot was a redheaded (which is how she got her codename) firecracker who was in an on again, off again relationship with Tequila.

“A Merlot for the pretty lady.”

The bartender rolled his eyes and handed her the glass of wine.

“So, what brings you here?” Whiskey asked as she took a sip of wine.

“Same as you, business.”

Whiskey noticed the ring on her finger. “Pretty ring. Did your husband buy you that?”

The woman looked down at her ring. “I designed it.”

“Ah, so you’re a jewelry designer.”

“You’re a regular Sherlock Holmes, cowboy.”

“So, do you normally wear your own merchandise?”

“Do you normally drink your own whiskey?” She’d seen the bartender pour him his drink from a Statesman bottle.

Now normally this was when Whiskey would have backed off, sensing she wasn’t interested in his advances. But he could tell by her jesting manner that she was enjoying their back and forth.

“So, where are you from? Originally?”

“Tennessee.”

“Kentucky. We’re practically neighbors.”

“I don’t doubt you’re from Tennessee going off that accent of yours. That and you run a liquor company. How country.”

He winked at her. “I’ll show you just how country I can be in the bedroom, darlin’.”

“Let me guess this is the part where you come up with some stupid pickup line to try and get me to come to your high-rise apartment and have sex with you?”

“Hold your horses, sweetheart. I haven’t asked you to dinner yet.”

“You…? You wanna take me to dinner first?”

Whiskey took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “If you’d allow me to.”

She smiled. “If you’re going to take me to dinner, you should at least tell your name first.”

“Jack Daniels. Please to meet you ma’am.”

She narrowed her eyes. “And that’s your real name?”

“Sure is, darlin’.”

She still didn’t seem to believe him, but said, “Olivia Washburn and yes. You can take me to dinner.”

Whiskey let out a sigh. His flirting had paid off. “I honestly didn’t think we’d get here. But out of curiosity, what made you say yes?”

Olivia shrugged and took another sip of her wine. “Save a horse.”

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey/oc #agent whiskey imagine #jack daniels #jack daniels/oc #jack daniels imagine #kingsman #kingsman imagine #statesman #statesman imagine #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine

[bettycooperoutfitwatch]

4x15 Chapter Seventy-Two: To Die For

Jughead died as he lived:

The world’s most dramatic bitch.

But that’s okay, because his plan hinges on everyone else in Riverdale being just as messy—and it works!

We finally reach the flash forward we witnessed in 410: the cropped red trousers, the stripe-y Juliet puff shoulders.

I’m not even gonna get into the waste of public resources (search parties, forensics, all of this costs money), I’m just gonna wave my hands and shrug, it’s Riverdale, etc. 

One, this shot is really well set-up (the mirror fracture? Nice), and two, appears to have been filmed on a potato.

Two potatoes. 

Three if you include Kevin, whose exposition-delivery work in this episode is especially thankless.

One of Betty’s two most-utilized purses this season, which are actually the same purse with slightly different stylings. This one is the simpler of the two.

The peacoat we’ve also seen a few times. 

Cousin Cheryl puts Cousin Betty on suicide watch. It’s a lot. 

So much of the core four’s plan hinges on other people. This is pure Scooby Doo logic. Let’s not dwell.

I repeat, for like the 89th time, this show hasn’t taken set dec photos since season one. 

The raccoon eyes!

We’ve literally seen all of this before, so I won’t repeat myself.

Well, spoke too soon.

This sweater-of-much-debate first popped up in a flash forward at the end of 405 and then once more in 408. We’re really getting to the end of these flash forwards now, it would seem. 

...

Do you think Betty and Jug got into some felon role-play after all this was over?

You know what, never mind, never mind. 

🙃

This shirt looks a lot like one Betty wore in 105. Maybe they’re the same, maybe they’re not. There’s a lot of season one touches in this ep. 

Well.

Initiate phase 2 of the plan, I guess: let’s plan a funeral. 

Stripe-y ribbed turtleneck and a suede mini. This outfit will come up again, we’ll talk about it then. 

Throughout this episode, we see a lot of different characters wear touches of tartan. It’s not the first time we’ve seen most of these people wear tartan or some kind of check print detail (yes, even Hiram)—but here it sort of reads as their tribute to Jughead. 

Veronica’s collar.

Hiram’s shirt.

Archie’s tie.

FP goes for a glen plaid suit and a windowpane tie, the extra is clearly genetic.

Betty’s funeral attire is very classically Betty—sheer, swiss-dot puff sleeves, and A-line cut to the dress. Her hair is notably down, like the first time we saw her at a funeral. 

A lot of people argue that Betty wears what looks like a J+B necklace in Jug’s dream opening to 222. I always thought that was her B pendant necklace, but idk anymore—I could be convinced given its showing here. 

(Jellybean’s tights.) 

Peep Betty’s pointy-toe kitten heels, with the little metallic embellishments. 

Does Riverdale have a very active amateur theatrical society? Everyone’s really bringing their A game here.

Betty reads an excerpt from Arthur Conan Doyle’s story “The Final Problem,” which...girl.

To keep it brief (ha), Conan Doyle intended “The Final Problem” to be the last Sherlock Holmes story—which he tried to ensure by killing off his hero. 

But then fans got mad at him and after a while of that, his hero rose from the dead in “The Adventure of the Empty House.”

What a way to telegraph, Elizabeth. 

(Jellybean’s jellybean necklace!!)

(There’s nothing so enjoyable as hearing Ms. Reinhart call someone a bitch in that Midwestern twang. Truly, a delight.) 

Anyway. People still have doubts about Jug’s life-status. 

Initiate phase 3: the nuclear option. 

I really can’t tell if this ribbed long-sleeve turtleneck is a pale pink or an oatmeal, and that frustrates me. If it’s pink, well then Betty’s wearing pink and a rusty red-ish color—meaning the next phase of this master plan is underway, and it involves Cheryl being Riverdale’s other resident chief messy bitch:

Pink and red—as we’ve discussed several times before—are Betty’s Archie colors. 

They’re not always a symbol of a romantic connection, but that’s defo the weight costuming is trying to impart here. 

At this point, we (technically) don’t know that Jughead isn’t dead. Using this motif in this moment is just another way of trying to convince the audience that the act everyone is putting on here is real—both the internal audience within the show (RHS, the town-at-large, but more specifically the Stonewall group), and the external one (us).

Visually there’s also almost too much going on with this shirt. Contrasting patterns, contrast v-neck, Juliet puffs on the sleeves. It’s a lot, it’s visually confusing in a way that mirrors the actual plot machinations of the story. Her mental state is stressed. 

I include it for the boots and the skinny jeans, which are very season one-esque. Don’t @ me. 

A moment for Veronica’s knit. 

Betty wore this very shirt, in another coloring, in 318! I like to think of this as another little costuming easter egg, that it suggests B & V are secretly on the same team here—and after all, they are. 

Same purse from earlier in the ep, and a jacket that first debuted in season 3. 

That’s the face of a girl on a mission.

Listen.

We know. 

Boyfriend’s S shirt. 

...consider how tame that fake kiss above is in light of this message.

Anyway: 

Pour one out for the sex bunker of death!! 

What favor did Betty do for Archie such that she is owed a milkshake? Give me friendship shit!!!

Visually, this is an intentional throwback to episode 102, in which Archie tries to apologetically text Betty after telling her he’ll never love her, only to be shut down.

The yellow shirt, the ballet bun, the shorts, the same gd teal phone case. It’s all intentional.

415: 

102: 

We haven’t seen Betty and Archie interact much this season between the time Fred died and...basically this plot. So these itty bitty crumbs are what’s supposed to make us believe all the shit that goes down several eps from now, but we’ll cross that (very dumb) bridge when we get to it. 

The cable-knit is kind of season one throwback, too.

On the right her earring looks like a heart with an arrow through it, but idk idk. 

Her kicks are the same she wore in 403. 

I could say I’m including this here because she’s wearing plaid, it’s in honor of Jug, blah blah—but honestly it’s just cause she looks gorg here. That’s all.

Summary: T e n outfits, ten. That includes two we’ve seen previously in flash forwards, two sets of pajamas, and one instance of boyfriend-wear. 

Is Betty a River Vixen??: ...only in Jug’s Stonewall spank bank. Also, isn’t the season over? Football ended. It’s fake murder season now. 

Backpack 2.0?: Mhm.

The floggingink Memorial Peter Pan Collar Count: with all the season 1 shit being thrown at us, you’d expect it, wouldn’t you? But no. 

Best outfit: I’m into the funeral look I think! 

#4x15 #s4 #riverdale #betty cooper #betty cooper outfit watch #i cannot convey to you how infuriating it was to make this post #tumblr is broken

[secretshinigami]

An Unexpected Reencounter

Author: Daniel Funke (@danthegeek) For: @its-canon-and-im-feral Pairings/Characters: L/Light, Lawlight Ratings/Warnings: Smoking cigarettes, Slight homophobia(internalized), Slight Swearing Prompt: L and Light as renowned musicians Author’s notes: It’s the 80s Baby! L and Light reencounter each other when they are both invited to take part in the most spectacular musical event of the 20th century: Live Aid. Wordcount: 2784.

***

13th of July 1985. The day of Live Aid. L was hunched over his bathroom sink and took a deep breath. This was going to be fine. He looked into the mirror, meeting his own nervous looking expression written all over his pale face. He took another deep breath. Alright, let’s do this. L ran his finger through his messy black hair and glanced into the mirror for the last time. Baggy jeans hanging loose on his skinny frame. A black leather jacket over a white T- Shirt – his band members made him wear the leather jacket.  “It’s the 80s dude, don’t you wanna look cool?” L rolled his big grey eyes that looked even darker because of the black eyeliner framing them. Yeah you look like a rock star. Strange.

L jumped when he heard his phone ringing in the hall. He hurried to pick up the call. “Hey buddy!”, a loud voice greeted L. He wanted to answer but the voice interrupted “So how excited is my favourite, favourite bass player?” L replied: “I’m fine, Eric”. “Of course you’re fine, L. It’s the biggest gig of our life. Can you even comprehend who we are gonna meet? The bands we are gonna share a stage with?” L smiled a bit at Eric’s enthusiasm. Then he frowned, remembering exactly whom he was going to share the stage with. “Yeah… I can’t comprehend, Eric.” “Well anyways buddy, we are gonna pick you up at 10 alright? Be ready. And put on some shoes, will you?” L rolled his eyes again. “Sure, Eric.”, he said and hung up. He looked down at his naked feet and sighed.

“Dylan if you don’t stop doing that—“, L said, annoyed. Dylan grinned at L and continued to spin his drumsticks around in his fingers. They were backstage now, although L did not really understand why they had to be at Wembley 5 hours early. He was mindlessly strumming around on his bass, imitating the melody of Another One Bites The Dust.

“Oi L, you think they will play that in their set?”, Nate asked. He was the lead singer and guitarist of their band. “I doubt it”, L said. “They are probably going to play more cheerful songs to animate the crowd. Like, you know, Radio Gaga or We Will Rock You.”

“Hey L, wanna bet?”, Dylan asked. He had finally stopped spinning around his drumsticks and grinned at L. “Ohhh Dylan, don’t do that”, Nate said and chuckled. “You know L has a sixth sense. You can only loose mate.”

Dylan sighed and pointed one of his drumsticks at L. “You’re right. The bastard ‘s like goddamn Sherlock Holmes.” L shrugged and continued to play on his bass guitar. “Anyways, who are you excited for, the most?”, Nate asked Dylan.

They were just as excited about Live Aid as Eric, and L had to admit that they could not be blamed for it. It was after all the biggest event that had ever been broadcasted on Television so far. A concert, that would host the most renowned musicians of the last decades. Anybody who is anybody is doing this concert.

“Okay so obviouslyMadonna”, Dylan declared, a dreamy expression in his eyes. “Obviously”, Nate repeated and cracked a smile. “And also, you know, U2”, Dylan continued. Nate nodded. In this moment, Eric joined them, as always a big smile on his face. He took a pull on his cigarette and put on a haughty expression.

“Guess where I’ve been?”, he said, looking at his three band members. Dylan rolled his eyes. “You’ve been making out with a groupie in our tour bus, am I right?” Eric blew out a wisp of smoke and laughed, obviously pleased with himself. “Anyways, what have you guys been up to?”, Eric asked and sat down with them. “We were just discussing which acts we are most excited for”, Nate said. “Oh that’s cool. Well Nate, I guess you wanna see Bowie?” “Oh Bowie is exceptional! But I’m actually more excited for KIRA’s act.”

L winced at the mention of this name but tried to remain still and unimpressed. Not one of his band members seemed to have noticed the sudden reaction of L. He stared at his bass and had clasped his fingers around it. From the outside he seemed normal, cold, a bit nervous at most. But inside, L was burning. A hot sensation burned itself through his entire body, starting from his head. He wasn’t even certain of his exact emotion. Was it rage? Embarrassment? Definitely a bit of acrimony.

“You’re right, KIRA totally rocks”, Eric agreed. “Their lead singer is so cool…”

“Quite literally”, Nate said. “I once met him backstage briefly, after a concert. I tell you, if looks could kill – his eyes have this…glistening glare.” “Oh come on, Nate. He just one of those guys who don’t wanna bother with anyone. You almost make him sound like he is evil or something. Eric and Dylan laughed.

L had followed the conversation, still feeling that storm of emotions inside him. He fetched a pack of anxiety pills out of his jeans pockets and took a couple. “Yo L, you alright mate?”, Nate asked. He looked at L a bit worried. “I’m just a bit nervous, it’s nothing. It’s still some time until sound check right?”, L asked and tried to sound casual.

“Yeah it’s like one and a half hours left”, Dylan said. “Alright.” L put his bass in its case and stood up. “Does anyone mind if I take a look around? I think I really need to stretch my legs out a little bit.” “Sure, go ahead. But please, please be on time for the sound check, yeah?”, Eric urged. “I will, don’t worry.” L tried to smile, although he wasn’t sure if he managed to make it seem genuine. Then he took off.

Light. Light Yagami. L could pull out his hair thinking about him. He leaned against the back door of the stadium and took a deep pull from his cigarette. If I were to meet this asshole ever again… He clenched his fist and tried to calm down. Somebody knocked against the door he was leaning at. L was startled and jumped back. The door opened and a young man looked at L, curiously.

“Do you mind?”, he asked and lit up a cigarette. “No, it’s alright”, L mumbled. He was not sure if he had seen this guy before. He had blond hair at shoulder length, wore a black blazer and pants. L noticed that he had been staring at the guy and quickly looked at the ground. “It’s alright, you don’t have to know me”, the guy chuckled. He offered his hand and L shook it. “I’m Deezer Dwight”, he introduced himself. “I’m L”, L said, smiling nervously. “Oh right, you’re with The Investigators, right? I gotta tell you I think it’s kind of a bummer that you aren’t gonna collaborate with The Police.” He grinned about his own joke. “Yeah, we really missed a chance there”, L said. “I’m sorry Deezer, I think I should know which band you belong to, but I haven’t seen you before.”

“That’s alright, I’m new. I just replaced the drummer of KIRA.”

Shivers were running down L’s spine. He threw his cigarette to the ground and put it out with his shoe. For once he was glad that he was not running around barefoot. “What happened to the old one”, L asked, again trying to sound casual. Deezer shrugged and sighed.

“Our lead singer didn’t get along with him anymore. He is…complicated sometimes.” “So what your lead singer says, goes?”, L inquired. “You know, Light… he has no sense of humour. He can be very cold. It’s not easy to work with him sometimes.” “I heard he could be a bit…ruthless sometimes.” Deezer laughed and lit on another cigarette. “That’s a nice way to put it. You should hear his real spicy stories. I swear you wouldn’t believe half of it.” L was intrigued. He knew at least one of these spicy stories really well. “Try me”, L said, trying to sound relaxed.

“Well some of the stories are more rumours…”, Deezer seemingly enjoyed sharing stories like this and his eyes lit up. “What I know for sure is that half of his money comes from people he sued for defamation of character. It was always about some affair he had, affairs that he denied happened. But I would put my both my hands in the fire, right here and right now that every one of these incidents happened and Light was just caring about his reputation too much. So he would threaten to press charges against those who would try to contact him after their…rendezvouses or whatever.”

L gulped and tried to process this information. “That’s… pretty messed up”, was all L could respond. But Deezer didn’t seem to mind his poor conversation skills. “Yeah, honestly it is. And I don’t even get why he cares so much what people think about him. So he does it with women and men, it’s the 80s for god’s sake. Elton does it, Freddie Mercury does it, I’m pretty sure Bowie is also in their club… like it’s alright to be… queer or whatever when you’re a rock star, you get me?” L nodded and looked at Deezer. He really did not seem to mind nor understand the fuzz about it.

“So you think Light Yagami is gay”, L asked Deezer, shoving his hands deep down his pockets. “No man he is just getting at it with everyone he finds attractive. I swear he is like all night out, every night, having someone sleeping over who then sneaks out at the break of dawn.” “Mhh.” L pressed his lips together and looked down at his feet. Well if that doesn’t feel all too familiar to you.

Suddenly Deezer jumped and they booth looked up as they heard an imperious voice calling Deezer’s name. “Oh man…”, he sighed.

“Seriously, how long is this smoke break going to take? Do you realize that we are on stage at Live Aid in two hours? Can’t I expect a little more reliability from my band members?”

Deezer and L both froze at that all too familiar voice, but because of very different reasons. “Sorry man”, Deezer whispered and threw his cigarette butt on the ground. I gotta go. It was nice meeting you! See you later maybe, good luck for your set.” He patted L’s shoulder and hurried through the backdoor.

L took his hands out of his pockets and stretched his arms above his head. Maybe it was time to go back to his band members as well. He reached for the doorknob, when once again someone tried to open the door from the opposite side. L took a step back and the door flung open.

L’s face turned white as he saw that he had just ran right into Light Yagami.

A couple seconds, nobody spoke or moved. Light looked at L, eyebrows raised. L couldn’t even determine whether Light recognized him or was just surprised to meet someone out here. He didn’t look embarrassed or guilty. L was still very pale and his big eyes stared at Light’s face.

He probably doesn’t even remember me. If he really has someone new every other night, how should he know who I was?

Light cleared his voice. He closed the door and leaned against the doorframe. “It’s you”, he said calmly. “Oh. So you do remember me”, L replied coldly. “I do. How could I forget that pretty face of yours?” Light smiled.

L pressed his lips together and took one step forward. “Don’t you dare, Light Yamagi. You know exactly what you did to me.” L felt the rage building up inside him. The humiliation. 

Never call me again. I’m not a “fairy” like you. Those were his words.

“Listen, L. I’m really sorry. I was a jerk back then. But I swear, I’ve changed.” “I don’t believe you”, L simply said and came even nearer onto Light. He stared at his face, holding his breath, mesmerized by his appearance. Light Yagami was beautiful. His skin was light and flawless. His brown hair framed his handsome defined face. Light brown eyes were looking at him. He wore an open jacket with nothing underneath and white leather pants. Light kept a straight face, only looking at L without retreating. “Don’t believe me, then”, Light said calmly. The corners of his mouth twitched a little.

“It’s all just a big game for you, isn’t it Light?”, L said and glared at him. “You just like to play with people, pretend they’re something special, pretend you actually feel something for them when in reality you are not even capable of real feelings. So you push everyone away and stomp on their hearts.”

L had got himself into a rage and was breathing heavily. Light didn’t respond for a couple seconds, but he didn’t smile anymore. “Listen, L… I know I’m messed up. But you have to understand that I can’t take the risk of ruining my reputation. I had to threaten you to keep quiet about what we had. I really liked you, you know. But my career is everything to me.”

L looked at him, frowning. Light Yagami lies as soon as he opens his sweet mouth. As if that cheap apology could fool me. As much as L wanted to believe him, he could not help to still suspect him of being a notorious liar. He wanted to believe him so much. Wanted to believe he had changed.

“Will you forgive me L?”, Light asked softly and raised his hand to gently stroke across his cheek.

L felt a burning sensation rising up inside him again, only this time it was not fuelled by rage or anger. It was pure desire that poured through his body. “I–“, L stuttered and couldn’t close his mouth, “I…don’t know…” L was completely entranced by Light’s flawless features, his hot breath that he could now feel on his skin, his glowing eyes looking at L in a way that made him feel weak in his knees.

“What is it, L?”, Light asked smiling. L knew that Light was winning. He knew that Light was already in triumph, knowing that L couldn’t resist him no matter how hard he tried. L took a deep breath. “I don’t think I will…forgive you”, L breathed and took Light’s hand to put it away from his face. When he touched Light’s skin, it was like he was struck by lightning, like an electrical shock flashed right through him. He immediately let go of Light’s hand, but he couldn’t stop staring at him.

“That’s…a shame”, Light said in a low voice and casted down his eyes.

L was trembling. He was fighting every fibre in his body, because all he wanted was to diminish every distance between him and Light, to press his body against Light’s. He hesitantly took Light’s hand again and felt this overwhelming electrical sensation again. When he did that, Light looked up and smiled. At this moment, L knew that he had inevitably subjected himself to him. And Light knew that as well. He smiled, smugly, his eyes glistening with the certainty of victory.

He grabbed L by his waist and spun him around so L was pressed against the back door. He rested his hand next to L’s shoulder, pressing it against the doorframe. With the other hand, he slowly caressed L’s face. He went on to fondle with his hair and then he brought his mouth very close to L’s ear and whispered.

“Are you sure, that you don’t want to forgive me?”

L let out a moan, almost whimpering. He grabbed Light’s face and looked him in the eyes. He drew Light’s face even closer and then pressed his lips onto his own. Light sighed and buried his hands into L’s hair, messing it up even more and pulling on it as to elicit another moan. L could not believe how he could have forgot about the sweet taste of Light’s lips, the feeling of his body against his own, the irresistible smell he emanated. L never wanted to end this kiss but he needed to catch his breath. He gently pulled Light away from his face, breathing heavily and gazing at Light with his big grey eyes. Light smiled again, his lips red and slightly swollen from the kiss.

“I still don’t forgive you”, L whispered and smiled back at him.

#fanfiction #death note #submission #pairings: lawlight #ratings: teen #cw: smoking #cw: drugs #itscanonandimferal #danthegeek #Mello's Birthday Mayhem 2020

[padfootagain]

The King And You (VIII)

Part 8: Leave The Gun, Take the Cannoli

Here we go again for a new part of this series.

Caspian's modern adventures continue, and oh dear, the situation is just getting more ridiculously crazy by the minute hahahaha!! But it's not as sad as my two previous chapters. It's just fun, really. And starting to be all fluffy hihihihihi!!

I hope you like this new chapter!

Word Count: 3797

Your world was about brushes and colours. About beauty in the ordinary, and seeing masterpieces in clouds and bloody battles in the reddened sky. You painted because you could turn the world you felt uncomfortable in into your own. Yet, despite that form of imaginary scenery, there wasn't magic. No spells, no coloured sparks shot out of wooden wands, no future guessed in tea leaves, no unicorns. It wasn't the kind of magic you were ready to accept.

And yet, as you let your gaze wander off across the street outside your window, you remembered that the guy you had let sleep on your sofa for a night – and had knocked out unconscious with a hairdryer, let's not forget how it all began – was apparently from another world. He had apparently walked through a 'doorway' between your world and his… Narnia, he called it.

In your hands, your coffee was growing cold, but you didn't mind. You weren't hungry, and had decided to skip breakfast. Your mind was too busy to let you eat.

Narnia. Magic door between worlds… in your closet…

Of course…

And yet, you could not find another explanation for the whole thing. The way Agatha seemed to believe it all, and worse, to know about it! The way he acted, the whole story about his friends dying decades ago… Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth. Sherlock Holmes was quite right on that one, you guessed… but was Narnia to consider as improbable or impossible?

The sun was rising above New York, but its soft, shy rays were not shedding any light on this particular mystery. Instead, it simply turned the sky into a paler blue than usual.

It had been a week now since you had left Caspian at Agatha's house, and you had had no news. Which wasn't that surprising, considering that you barely knew Caspian in the first place. He was probably busy looking for a way to get a passport… or another one of his magic passages.

Or… he had gone home after his prank on you. Actually, that could be the proof you needed…

Ha! What better way to frame him and Agatha for their deception? Because it had to be a deception, obviously. There was no other explanation. Right?

It would put the Narnia issue into the impossible box, and your life would be back to normal.

Yes! It was decided! As you sprung to your feet, abandoning your coffee on your table to grow cold and hurried to the bathroom instead, ready to get dressed.

You would drive to Agatha's house and catch them red-handed! Or rather, not catch Caspian, and thus proving the whole ordeal was a mere fraud. No ground-breaking, earth-shattering story here.

Yes! That would surely work.

Right?

 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Caspian, however, was still at Agatha's. She had given him some new clothes, and if he didn't find them as comfortable as his own, he did reckon that they were better suited for this world. Agatha had contacted her old friend, Roger, and a meeting was set for this very afternoon in New York, in a place called Central Park. Caspian was anxious, although excited as well. Agatha was willing to help, and she believed him. It was lovely talking about Narnia with her, about the stories they had to share about their two lives. He spoke for hours of tales he had lived with her family and on his own, she talked of her mother and the life she had here. She talked of her children and he told her about his love for the sea. There was such a level of understanding between them, two people speaking the same language in a world that seemed to be written in another tongue. It felt so good to be understood. It felt safe. If Caspian was still mourning his family, and scared of what the future may hold for his people if he couldn't come back quickly, he was less afraid now that he had an ally.

As he watched the bleeding leaves being carried by the wind while they fell from the maple trees, he found that there was something else weighing on his heart, and when he searched through his heart for the cause behind his worry, all he could see was your face.

Why did he miss you so? He didn't even know. He had not spent so much time with you, and yet he found himself now wishing for you to be near him again. If he felt safe in Agatha's care and was grateful for all her efforts to help him, he wished you could be here.

He thought about leaving this land for England. Agatha had showed him on a map where the two countries stood, and indeed, they were separated by an impressive distance. He would have thought that months would be needed to cross the ocean that tore the lands apart, but Agatha had assured him that it would merely take a day. So many miles that he would put between you and him. And then, if all worked out as he hoped it would, he would go back to Narnia, and never see you again. The thought of never hearing your voice again, never seeing your face, never listening to you talk about what you loved, and that stunned smile you gave him when he behaved strangely, and… oh… everything about you, really… the thought that he would never see you again was more painful than his fear of never going home. And he couldn't explain why. He felt that way, and that was all the truth he had for now.

"Here you go, drink some tea! It'll help!"

"I'm fine," Caspian lied as Agatha sat on the chair opposite him in the kitchen.

"You are troubled. And I am guessing you have many reasons to feel that way."

"Indeed," he nodded, accepting the tea with a grateful smile.

"Don't worry about this afternoon. I'm sure Roger can help us."

"I am very grateful, for everything you are doing for me."

"You're family," she brushed his remark away with a tender smile and a wave of her hand, simple gestures that made Caspian's heart hurt in a soft way.

But even Agatha's soothing tea could not push you out of his thoughts. And as it wandered off, his mind formed a question that he found torturing.

Would you remember him?

He would probably never see you again. And if you had met in what could certainly be described as an odd situation, you had spent so little time together compared to what a lifetime was. He would be merely a blink in your life. A weird adventure that would linger in your memory for a while. But for how long?

Somehow, he knew he would never forget you. Standing there in your towel after he stepped into your world, the look on your face at the police station, eating pizza with him, anger at your ex, doubt in your eyes at his story, sitting by his side as he cried, how you tried to wrap your mind around his and Agatha's explanations… he didn't think you believed him, even now. It did not change the fact that he believed in the kindness he had read in the way you looked at him, in the way you moved, in the smile you had offered him…

No, most definitely, he would never forget you. And it wasn't because of how you had met, at least, he wasn't sure it was the only reason.

But would you remember him?

He opened his mouth to ask his question out loud, without thinking, when he was interrupted by the doorbell. Agatha hurried to go open the door, and Caspian was left alone in the kitchen, staring down at his fuming tea, his questions unanswered.

"Oh! What a pleasure to see you!"

Agatha's voice rang through the house, and Caspian's attention was pulled to the present.

"Caspian! Come and see who's here!"

The King stood with a frown, walking to join Agatha until he could see who was on the threshold, and the sight got him frozen on the spot.

It was…

"You…"

He crossed the distance between him and the door at last, letting out a shaky breath while a smile made its way to his lips.

He couldn't believe his eyes.

"Y/N? What…" he stuttered, too stunned. "What are you doing here?"

And you were just as stunned as he was.

Because, by coming to Agatha's home, you expected him to be gone and to finally have the proof that none of their tales were true; but now you were standing before Caspian.

And also because… well, he was wearing normal clothes this time. A white shirt that fitted him a little too perfectly, and a dark pair of jeans. Your heart was skipping beats, for reasons you would have preferred to deny but truly, you couldn't hide this even to yourself. He looked gorgeous.

"Hi…" you let out in a breath. "Well, I… I just… wanted to know how you were. And…"

"And?" Caspian encouraged you as you didn't continue your sentence, but you shook your head.

If he was still here, then it could only mean that… or perhaps he just lived there, with Agatha?

Oh, but the look on his face… like he was so genuinely stunned and yet ecstatic to see you again. No one could fake that. Could they?

"Nevermind. How are you?" you answered.

"I'm well. What about you?"

"I'm okay."

"Come in, Y/N!" Agatha invited you in, but even her intervention could not completely bring the two of you back to earth. Your minds were still hovering somewhere up in the stratosphere.

"I… I just wanted to see how you two were," you answered shyly, your eyes never leaving Caspian's almost-black irises.

"Come on in!" Agatha insisted. "I've just made tea!"

"Please," Caspian nodded, and for some reason, you couldn't refuse him.

"Okay, but not too long."

"Brilliant! I'll make you a cuppa, just a sec!" Agatha hurried to the kitchen, while you stepped in the house.

Caspian took your jacket, and he stood maybe a little too close to you, but none of you were willing to put more distance between the two of you.

What the hell was going on between you two?

You couldn't deny that he was fairly attractive, but that couldn't be just what was going on here. You had come to break his whole tale into pieces, and instead you found yourself pulled towards him by invisible strings from which you couldn't cut yourself loose.

And he had wanted to see you again, but he wanted to talk to you not simply stare at you wide-eyed like he did now. Instead, he found himself pulled towards you like a comet changing its course next to a sun.

"I… I didn't think I would see you again," he let out in a breath, hoping you wouldn't notice how tight his throat had become.

"I just… I thought I would drop by. Have a chat… and I… to be completely honest, I was wondering if you would still be here."

"Well, I am. And I… I'm glad you came."

You exchanged a smile, before hearing Agatha calling for you in the kitchen, and you finally headed to join her.

"So… did you call your friend?" you asked your host as you sat around the table by Caspian's side.

"Yes! We're going to meet him this afternoon, actually! Central Park. The perfect occasion for a lovely walk."

"Have you explained anything to him already?"

"Not in detail. These aren't the kind of things you should talk about on the phone. But I told him that I needed a favour, and he was eager to help. I have no doubt he will get us all that we need."

"Great!"

"But… why don't you stay for lunch?" Agatha offered. "And you can come back to New York with us!"

"I… I have my own car."

"We would have taken the train, would you mind terribly to take us at least to the train station?"

You smiled, defeated already.

"I can take you to New York, it would be my pleasure."

"You don't have to, I'm sure you had things planned," Caspian added, quite uncomfortable, but you brushed his doubts with a laugh.

"It's okay."

"You could even come with us to see Roger!" Agatha went on.

You hesitated, but had to admit that you were very curious. Besides, the most plausible explanation for all this was still something between a magical land called Narnia and an elaborated con that for now had not given you much trouble.

So, why not investigate a little further?

"You know what? I'd love to meet him!" you answered.

"It won't bother you?" Caspian asked with hope badly hidden in his eyes.

"No, I want to."

You exchanged a bright smile.

And that was how you found yourself taking the two of them to Central Park…

 -----------------------------------------------------------

 Caspian loved Central Park.

Red and orange hues against the vivid blue of the sky, green grass plunging into ponds, ducks running around, and for once, people who didn't seem to be hurrying anywhere. Time seemed slower in the park than in the rest of the city, and this slower, more human rhythm, fitted him much better. It was closer to the heartbeat of his kingdom.

A pair of squirrels chased each other across the path before them, as you came closer to the bench where Roger were to meet you.

And indeed, an elderly man, tall and undoubtedly strong was waiting on the bench, reading a newspaper, wearing a grey hat and a grey coat and all in all an ensemble of clothes that made him a perfect cliché of a leading role from a film noir.

He grinned at the sight of Agatha, and you were surprised to find them holding hands in a tender gesture as they met.

"Oh, Agatha. Still as beautiful as the morning sun."

"Oh, Roger! Don't start! You're such a charmer," Agatha blushed, but her whole frame shining now with joy.

"I'm so happy to see you again."

"Me too. It has been way too long."

"You haven't changed a bit."

"In years! Of course, I have!"

"Not to me."

You and Caspian exchanged a knowing look. So… that's why Roger was so eager to help… he was completely weak-in-the-knees under Agatha's charms.

You found the two of them adorable, to be honest…

"This is Caspian, the man I told you about. And this is Y/N, a friend," Agatha introduced you.

You shook hands with Roger, or well, he crushed your hand more than shook it, actually. Caspian though didn't seem to notice, and by the surprise on Roger's face, the king must have matched his vigour in his handshake.

"Nice to meet the two of you. So, you're the one who needs my help."

"I am indeed," Caspian nodded.

"He needs to travel to England," Agatha explained. "But for a very complicated reason, that I will not tell you, so no need to ask… he doesn't have a passport."

"And can't make one?"

"I'm afraid not. He has no papers."

"None?

"It's a long story. But I would be grateful if you could help."

"For you, Agatha, anything. But I'll still need to know what papers you need and why you need them. It will change the quality of the copies."

You started to walk together down the path again, keeping your voices low, but there was no one around. And you seemed to be the only one nervous in the company.

"He needs to go to England. That's all."

"Hmm… that can be tricky. It would help if he wasn't going alone. Will you two travel with him?"

"I'll go," Agatha nodded.

You opened your mouth to reply, but Roger, with a look on his face signalling that he was using every braincell he had to a point that you expected smoke to pop out of his ears, cut you off.

"Are you two together? It would make the trip safer if you went as a couple."

"What?!" both Caspian and you exclaimed.

"Trust me! In my experience, families and couples are less suspicious than a lone man. It'll help greatly passing the security."

"Y/N is not travelling with us," Caspian shook his head.

"Shame. It would have helped."

"Can you help us get the papers?" Agatha drew the conversation back on track.

"Sure. It'll take a couple of weeks though. Will need a picture of your friend. A few info. Name etc. But nothing I can't handle."

"For the price…"

"Oh, Agatha. Don't insult me. All I want in exchange is to take you to the opera, like we used to, back in the days."

She giggled, but nodded all the same, and you promised yourself to make her tell you everything about it.

"I reckon you're losing in that bargain, my dear Roger."

"Oh, no. I'm winning."

It's only when Agatha took his arm, shifting the material of his coat, that you noticed the holster he wore, and were reminded that he was, indeed, a member of the mafia.

"I'll contact you when it's ready. But let's take a walk for now, it's a lovely afternoon," he went on.

After a few minutes, he and Agatha were leading the way, a few meters before you, lost in a conversation of their own. By your side, Caspian was walking in silence, merely appreciating the beauty of the park, and the joy that coursed through his soul at the thought of having you near him for just a little while longer.

"Really, Roger makes me feel like I'm lost on the set of the Godfather," you broke the comfortable silence surrounding the two of you.

Caspian frowned.

"Is it a book? Or a… I believe you call them… movies?"

"You know what a movie is?" you asked, surprised, and your eyes narrowed as you thought that maybe he had trapped himself. But there was no lie in his eyes when he answered.

"Agatha explained them to me and showed me one on her… what is the black screen called again?"

"A television." You smiled. It sounded more like the Caspian you knew.

"Yes! She showed me… I believe it was the War of the Stars?"

"Star Wars?"

"Yes! Star Wars! I didn't understand much of it, to be honest."

You broke into laughter.

"Well, she sure started strong!"

"It was such a strange story," Caspian went on, shaking his head and frowning. "They were in the sky!"

"Yeah! Well, for now we're still stuck here. On earth. Or on the moon, but it's not such a nice place to spend your holidays, really."

Caspian looked at you with shock.

"The moon? What do you mean?"

"Armstrong? He… walked on the moon."

"What?!"

"Decades ago. We sent a group of people to walk on the moon."

He was stopped in his tracks.

"How?"

"We built a very big… ship. And we sent them up there. I have to admit that I can't help you on the technicalities, I'm no scientist."

"You can go to the moon?"

"Well, not personally, but… some of us have been to the moon, and back. Yes."

"The moon?"

"Yes, the moon."

You laughed. That was it, you had broken him.

"That is amazing! Can you go further? Beyond the moon?"

"Not for now. But that's already not that bad I reckon."

"Not that bad?! It's… unbelievable! Can you go to the moon if you want to?"

"Oh, no! No, it's very dangerous and expensive, you don't just go to the moon like that. We haven't sent anyone in years, actually. There has to be a scientific interest or something…"

"This is still unfathomable to me."

"More than travelling from a world to another?"

He let out a laugh.

"I guess that you have a point."

You walked for a few minutes more in silence, and you had to admit that it was nice. Walking down the path, sunlight piercing through the branches of tall trees, red and yellow skeleton leaves gathering at your feet with the wind, and Caspian by your side, who looked so amazed to see all that surrounded him. He didn't seem so scared nor worried anymore. He seemed almost happy, and for some reason, seeing him like this made you happy too.

"What will you do for the two weeks you'll have to wait through to get your passport?" you asked him, tearing his attention away from the children feeding the ducks on your right he was staring at, so he could look at you again.

"I… I don't know. I haven't thought about it," Caspian admitted.

"You should visit New York! I mean… if there's nothing else you can do anyway, why not seize the opportunity."

Caspian shrugged, burying his hands in the pockets of his long black coat.

"I wouldn't want to bother Agatha more than needed. She is already doing a lot for me."

You tried to bite your tongue. You really did. Because your head screamed at you to not say what you were about to say, and yet you just couldn't stop the words as they passed your lips.

"I could help."

Caspian couldn't refrain a grin.

"Really?"

"Sure," you nodded, mentally slapping yourself. "I mean, it could be fun!"

"Well, I would love to, if it doesn't bother you."

"It doesn't bother me at all, I want to show you around," you answered, and your words were too earnest to be stopped.

You guessed that was why you couldn't suppress the offer, the truth was, you wanted to see him again, no matter how crazy his story was, and how much mystery still surrounded him. There was just… something about him. Telling you that you could trust him, making you want to be close to him, even for just a moment longer. And as you looked in your heart for the truth, you found out that you were ready to take the risk to be betrayed in return for now.

"Then, I would love to visit the town with you," he answered with a bright smile that made your heart beat a little faster… or, well… a lot faster…

"What about I pick you up tomorrow after lunch? What would you like to see?"

"I'll leave it all to you. I trust you to choose our destination."

"Great! It'll be a surprise then!"

"A perfect one, I am sure."

You exchanged a smile, and for the first time since he had arrived, Caspian didn't think about going home.

#Caspian #Caspian X #caspian x reader #King Caspian #caspian fanfic #caspian imagine #caspian x fanfic #caspian x imagine #narnia #narnia fanfiction #narnia imagine #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic

[gravityfissure]

Slice of Life : Cece & Otto

When: September 12th

Who: @thebickedwitchoftherest & Otto

Where: Cece’s house

Summary: Cece comes home to a familiar intruder.

Warnings: Mushroom manipulation

Work usually kept Cece late Otto knew this, especially in this town which gave him a decent opportunity to get to his target and get out without issue. And yet, he found himself hesitating outside the door. The spells had been a bugger to figure out and by the time he got to the lock he was wondering if this was even a good idea. Wasting time in a fashion that never happened on a job. Not normally. But lately things had hardly been what he’d call normal had they? His hands hovered but eventual compulsion of getting to his target got him moving once more, the locks were trickier, but he managed to get through them eventually. For once (and rather strangely for that fact) he was dressed rather normally, a typically stellar and tastefully coloured outfit tonight replaced with a trim leather jacket over a grey tee and black jeans with boots. Even his hair was flatter today. As though less attention had been paid to that than whatever was going on inside his head.

Otto had been to Cece’s cabin enough time over the years of living here that he knew his way around the space rather easily. The toaster was easy enough to pick up, and he should’ve left. Really should’ve just gone right there and then… Yet looking at the familiar space he was struck with a conflicting sense of purpose. Cece was his friend, one of the few he had left in this town it seemed. Did he really want to go through with this? No. But he had to. And yet he was hesitating, second guessing a typically sure fire and decisive way of life.

How he ended up sitting on the sofa, swigging from her personal store of booze cradling the toaster under his arm, crumbs on his leg staring into space he didn’t rightfully know. But what he did recognise was the sound of a lock clicking into place and a door swinging open.

Cece had worked late, and had gotten home to an empty house. Apparently, her roommates had plans that night, leaving the home empty. She had always forgotten what that felt like. She had lived alone in town for a while before Morgan first moved in and then again once Morgan moved in with Deirdre. But now she had two that kept her company in the house. Cece was a social person, despite running off alone to Maine. It was nice having people around to chat with on particularly boring nights. Plus, Cam and Jane made for good company.

Though Cece wasn’t alone when she walked in her door. Across the open space, Cece walked in on Otto sitting on the couch, staring down the dark screen of her tv. Something was off. And it wasn’t just because Otto was in her living room for some reason. Wait, was that her toaster in his arms? “What’s up. Love the serial killer vibes you’ve got going.” Cece closed and locked the door behind her. She had spells around the house to protect from this, so Otto must have been pretty impressive to get the door open in the first place. “What the hell are you wearing?” In the darkness, Cece could tell that his outfit didn’t seem to shine through the lack of light. It could only mean that he wasn’t wearing one of the colorful outfits that Cece was so fond of. “And why are you spooning my toaster?” So many questions tonight.

Otto took another long pull from the bottle, wiping the back of his mouth on his sleeve, his head lolling to one side as he looked away from the reflective abyss of the television screen he’d been staring at. “Thanks… Thought I’d channel my inner Paul John Knowles,” a tasteless joke perhaps but that was typical for Otto in any given situation. Raising a hand to rub his eyes he sighed.

“Well, they’re these things called clothes, you go to the shop and buy them and put them on to feel good about yourself,” perhaps being a smartass wasn’t the best solution but it felt somewhat normal in a time that everything really didn’t feel at all normal. He shifted the toaster, peering down at it. “I need it for my wife, oh wait-” he looked over at her again “did I tell you I got married? No? Well- I got married… Not like actually married but… you know. Marriage is a trap so I guess it’s pretty fitting that I’m enslaved to a fae who wants used toasters. Fun right?” Man what he’d do for a cig right now.

Something was off, didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure that one out. Cece just hadn’t quite figured out if she should be more concerned for her own safety considering a man had broken into her home and was drinking her alcohol or if she should be more concerned for Otto. He clearly didn’t seem like himself at the moment. Neither Cece nor Otto had given much information about their lives before White Crest to each other, but she still considered him a friend. The two knew about the magic and Cece even had a look at that new gravity magic of his. “You know what? I’m just going to take it as a win that you didn’t name a serial who had a thing for pretty blondes.” Cece eventually decided against Otto being a threat and tossed her bag on the ground by the couch, taking the empty seat and holding out her and gesturing for the bottle of alcohol that Otto was nursing. Once she got ahold of it she took a long drink from the bottle and passed it back off to him.

Otto was being a sarcastic asshole, so at least she knew he was still somewhat acting like himself. “Hilarious. Does that outfit make you feel good about yourself then? As opposed to your other outfits? Just curious.” Then he was talking about the institution of marriage, something Cece couldn’t agree more on besides the point that he kept mentioning a wife. Had he completely gone off the deep end? Maybe been love potioned or something? “That’s a lot of information to take in at once, dude. So you’re married. To a woman who wants my toasters? Am I being punked? If Ashton Kutcher’s in here you better tell me because I had a very serious crush on him back in middle school.”

“Now, that would be tasteless, plus I’d never hurt you Ce. You’re my friend, right?” The question hung in the air, a degree of uncertainty around it but he hoped it wasn’t an overstep. The sofa dipped and settled as Cece came to join him on the sofa. What was he doing with his life? He’d run to this dumb little town because of an accident. An accident that had had very real and very serious consequences, thought that maybe he could start again an anonymous face in the crowd. But he was learning the hard way this was definitely not a place you could be anonymous. In fact, Otto felt more exposed in White Crest than he had anywhere else in his entire life. The bottle was easily pried from his hands and Otto opted to sink further into the couch taking it back when it was offered.

“Every outfit makes me feel good, and I make every outfit feel good too,” but the airness remained though it was forgotten in the face of this Ashton Kutcher reference, and Otto’s brows pinched not understanding who or what she was on about. “Who’s? I don’t know who that is or what you’re on about.” The look remained, until he realised “oh no I’m serious… Do you know Deirdre? Deirdre Dolan? Weird woman obsessed with bones.” Maybe she did, “anyway she’s fae - convinced me it’d be a fun idea to go jump in a fairy ring with her and I thought why the hell not? It’s better than… everything else that’s all fucked up in this dumb town.”

“And now I’m now bound to follow her every command… Which includes stealing toasters and turning the swimming pool to mushroom soup…” his expression grew thoughtful as his thoughts sidetracked to mushrooms and mushroom soup “I haven’t figured out how to do that yet but I’m almost there I think.”

“As long as you don’t serial murder me, we’re best friends.” Cece found a way to joke around and wiggle her eyebrows in humor despite the situation. Sure, most friends didn’t consider an especially effective way to prove that friendship was by breaking into their home but hey, White Crest didn’t have much in the way of normal friendships. That being said, Cece would definitely be looking into some stronger protection spells on her door after this. “I dig the confidence, dude. You look cute as hell in that outfit too.”

“Deirdre?” Cece questioned and rolled her eyes. “I’m familiar with her.” As far as people in town went, Cece wasn’t going to pretend that she was her favorite. But considering Morgan seemed so smitten with the woman, Cece had mostly decided to let bygones be bygones. Mostly. Admittedly, the knowledge that the woman was fae wasn’t surprising in the least bit. But what was surprising was hearing about the fairy ring. Cece knew about them, though she had never actually seen one in practice. The coven wasn’t actually entirely convinced that they were real at all, but they never dealt with fae much. “Hold on. I know the general gist of a fairy ring but help me sort between fact and fiction. Does this mean you're sired to her or some shit?” If so, Cece had even more reason to loathe the woman. Either Deirdre made horrible first impressions or Cece had to seriously reconsider Morgan’s taste in suitors. “How naked do you get?”

“What the hell does she have you stealing toasters for?” Cece questioned. If this was some sort of prank, Cece was dying to hear the punchline. If this was some diabolical plan, Cece had trouble seeing the big picture. “Who’s pool?” Cece was actually pretty intrigued by the whole mushroom soup idea, “That’s easy. You just need an alchemist.” Cece pointed at herself, unironically volunteering herself for this stupid fairy ring prank.

“Cool, and at the rate I’m going I think I might be the murderee before you anyway so… Just pick out a nice headstone right? Black and silver. Maybe some purple in there yeah?” perhaps it was morbid to joke about it, but it made Otto feel a little bit better about everything that was going on right now. “Aawh, see, this is why we’re friends. You look cute too, even if you’re still in your work gear. But it’s cute and super professional. Very boss bitch vibe.”

He sighed, long and mournful turning sideways and tucking his feet up on the sofa before taking another healthy swig from the bottle and offering it out for her to take. “Oh well, great. Don’t go to a fairy ring with her if she asks, yeah?” Man this was all so backwards. Otto had never experienced much fae culture, and his lack of exposure to it was showing right now with recent decisions. The migraine was starting to return and Otto closed his eyes tiredly. “Yeah, she called it… a marriage? It’s like a next level fae bind I think. Maybe… I don’t know. I don’t have to make a promise, it’s literally like if she says it I have to do it otherwise I feel like I’m going to hurl.” Tilting the bottle against his knee he stretched out a bit. “Super naked. But that’s not that bad honestly.”

“The mushrooms.” That was the only answer he had. “Any pool, I think the local pool.” He’d been pondering the process himself. “Well I dabble in alchemy but I wouldn’t say no to a hand with it. I’ve got my hands on a transmutation stone, I just need to figure out how to channel it so that it will turn the water to soup.”

“Only the best headstone for you.” Cece nodded in agreement, pretending to take notes on the headstone color, “Here lies Otto, famed toaster thief, breaker of hearts.” Cece put on her best impression of a grieving widow, even using her sleeves to feign dotting at her eyes as if they were drowning in tears. “Damn straight Otto,” Cece gestured at her outfit and modeled from her seat, shooting a grin in Otto’s direction, “I’m taking that compliment, even if this outfit is definitely not by choice and because I have to follow my boss’ dress code. But I even make khaki’s look good.”

“No worries there, I had no interest in doing that before learning about this,” Cece and Deirdre did not communicate much and that was how Cece preferred it. She intended to remain civil for Morgan’s sake, nothing more. Accepting the bottle, Cece took a long drink from it. Regardless of how Cece felt, she couldn’t deny that the situation seemed fucked up. Cece certainly held no high ground when it came to moral compasses, but damn. “That’s intense, dude. I’m going to take a wild guess and say that she hasn’t taken any pity and released you from it either?” Another drink before passing it back over. She couldn’t help her mind from wandering towards the idea of a fairy ring. If a witch could collect the foliage that made up a fairy ring, what sort of magical properties would she have gotten power have? Cece could only imagine the spells that could be put together using those. “Naked huh?” Of course, because Cece had no control over herself her first instinct was to stare at Otto and imagine what that must have looked like. She eventually nodded in approval, “Nice.”

“Vague, but whatever.” What the hell did the mushrooms want with toasters? Cece cursed her lack of fae knowledge. “Shouldn’t be too hard. We literally just need a can of soup.” Cece shrugged, already picturing the process in her head. “Once I know all the ingredients, alchemy is simple. It’s just breaking things down and transmutating it into the new properties. I can help. Seems like a bad senior prank, but at least we’d mark one thing off your list.”

“Sheesh is that what my life amounts to?” it was only in hearing it repeated back to him that Otto had to think how sad his life had become. “Hells, I need to do something about that.” He flopped back, draping one arm lazily over his head as Cece modelled and he had to laugh, bright and genuine. “I mean, what would you wear if you actually had a choice and not a dress code?” It was interesting what a person’s choice of style and clothes could say about their personality. Just another form of expression like anything else.

“Good to know.” His arm sagged a little over his eyes, internally bemoaning the whole debacle. It had been fun, actually he wouldn’t have minded it except for all the hostilities that apparently came along with Deirdre’s blasted girlfriend that he’d barely known a thing about. “Not yet. Like- honestly it’d be fine except everyone is sticking their noses in business, judging me as if this is all somehow entirely my fault. Add on top of that I have this blasted twelve year old child driving me insane about being a fucking exorcist.” He huffed, dropping his hands back into his lap and noting Cece’s stare which only made him roll his eyes and give her a light and playful shove. “Shut up. I don’t need you getting imaginative on me just ‘cause you haven’t gotten any lately.”

“Fae bullshit,” at least that was as much as Otto understood of the matter. “Yeah? Well… I can get the soup and ingredients but don’t we need like for like? I dunno about you but I’m not buying 2.5 mega litres or however much we’d need of soup.. We could probably just use a smaller batch… amplify the transmutation with the stone?”

“Hey, I’m not the one that broke into his friend’s house and is cradling a toaster right now, buddy.” Cece shrugged, the truth was right here smackdab in their faces. But Cece didn’t disagree about doing something about it. Though without knowledge of fae, she wasn’t entirely sure that it was possible to break from it unless Deirdre let him go herself. Fat chance of that happening. It made Cece wonder if she had managed to talk Morgan into going into the fairy ring with her? Would Deirdre do something like that to Morgan? “If it was my choice? A full length ball gown.” Cece modeled, striking various poses before laughing and taking a swig from the bottle, “Nah I’m just fucking with you. I’m basic. I want tshirt and jeans.”

“Yeah well, most people in town aren’t going to believe that if you go into a circle of mushrooms in the woods that you’re bound to do whatever someone says.” Cece had no doubt that Otto had plenty of friends in the supernatural know. Perks of working at a magical bar. But even for people with supernatural knowledge, fae were sort of a wonder. They held their secrets tightly and knowledge about them tended to be more myth and legend than anything proven. “Exorcist? Honestly, it’s a bit impressive. At twelve, I wanted to be a popstar. It’s good to have goals, kid. Keep working at it.” Otto shoved Cece and she was cracking up, flashing her middle finger at him, “I can’t help where my mind wanders. I’m a very imaginative person Otto.” He was right though, she hadn’t gotten any lately.

“Nah. One will do.” Cece waved off the thought. Alchemy was all about the ingredients. Break things with a similar enough composition and you could turn it into anything. “It’s gonna suck for those kids though. Summer’s almost over anyways, go crack a book or something.”

“I don’t need reminding!” he whined, thumping her on the arm again for good measure even if he knew she was absolutely right on that account. But here they were and Otto wasn’t sure he was going to get out of this one any time soon. The talk of clothes was a nice distraction, and he cocked his head, trying to envisage Cece in the tox-room in a full length ball gown featuring rubber gloves and goggles while running a tox-panel. The mental image was enough to make him snort a laugh and it was at that moment he realised why he appreciated Cece so darn much. “Nothing wrong with that, select individuals can pull that off and make it look trendy - you’re one of those people. Granted… this town is full of pretty attractive people I won’t lie.”

“I’ve given up trying to convince the disbelievers, honestly as funny as it is watching them bend over backwards to deny something it gets a bit old in the end.” He pulled a face and shook his head, “not really, I know jack all about ghosts and I’m not interested in them that’s the issue… Turns out an old friend I used to run with lives here in town, they wanted me to cover for them little did I realise they were yanking my chain all along. Now I’m the villain because I helped covered for them. Shows how much loyalty’s worth these days huh?”

The flash of Cece’s middle finger, made Otto roll his eyes good-naturedly. “I’m sure you can’t.”

“I don’t really care about the kids, I kind of just want to do it because I can, you know? Sometimes it’s fun just to flex if there’s no real harm coming from it.”

Cece gave a shocked look at Otto as if she was offended by the arm punch. “Geez, okay Oscar the Grouch. Hitting a lady? The audacity.” Cece’s life had been so consumed with a fake sense of ease and stability with the coven that she had few people she felt completely relaxed around. The two genuine friends she did have within the coven even came with a hint of danger, with their plotting always threatening the safety and trust of the three. Cece enjoyed being able to stay lighthearted even in the sense of immediate danger. Otto’s situation didn’t seem good, but both of them knew that there was no immediate way to fix it. What was the point of being down in the dumps? Cece enjoyed the simplicity of being friends with Otto. Things came easily. “They’re all hot right? I’ve never understood it. It must have some magic magnet that pulls in all the hot people. I mean, it worked on us.” Cece shrugged like this was all the proof that she needed.

Cece pictured Regan at that. Cece had never met somebody so intertwined with the supernatural that still refused to believe in it’s existence, though she respected her boss’ tenacity. That stubbornness was supernatural in its own right. It made some of the more unexplainable jobs at work humorous if nothing else. It really was too bad that Cece had ended up liking Regan so much. “Shit. It sucks, but I’d totally watch that soap opera.” When in doubt, lighten the mood with a little humor, right? That’s what Cece was so convinced fixed any issue? “They’re still running around pulling their scams then, too? Ain’t that some bullshit?”

“Flexing is what I do best, as a matter of fact” Cece held her arm out and curled her fist, flexing the tiny amount of arm muscle that she had and pointing at it in true bodybuilding fashion. “Fair. It’s high time those kids learned how the real world works anyways. Get disappointed.” Cece realized that Otto was still holding onto the toaster and sighed. She didn’t know exactly how this fairy ring shit worked. “I’m not getting my toaster back, am I?”

“We both know you’ll give as good as you get,” Otto quipped, reclining back once more and closing his eyes in mental contemplation of his situation. And the inevitability of it all. “Absolutely, that has to be it… There is no other explanation for why people in this town are all so aesthetically pleasing.”

Nadia was a whole other conundrum. What did he have to do to fix this? And did he really want to do it considering the people invested in getting rid of her were all grade A assholes from the limited encounters online that Otto had with them? They didn’t give him much reason to want to help them and yet a part of him questioned whether he had a duty to do that. But when had he ever truly put the needs of other people above that which suited him? And therein lay the crux of his issue. “I know right? At this point I’m just going to let them play their games and see where they end up… If they win, great, if not I guess they only have themselves to blame.”

“Well then, I guess we need some soup.” With that he rolled back and then forwards propelling himself off the sofa. “Nope,” came the answer with a pop of the ‘p’ for emphasis “it’s gotta be sacrificed. But I’ll repay you for the donation once this is over… Probably.” With a small roll up onto his toes he tilted his head, “come on then!”

The night certainly hadn’t gone how Cece had expected. Otto brought a lot of information to light that Cece wasn’t entirely sure what she should be doing with. In almost all cases, none of this was her problem. Getting involved in more supernatural bullshit was the exact opposite of what she needed. It had been the entire point of escaping to a small town in the farthest possible state from anywhere someone thought Cece would go. This had been a chance to stay low. Clearly, Cece fucking sucked at that. Instead she ended up finding herself right in the middle of some supernatural epicenter, befriending people that couldn’t seem to go a week without attracting some magical clusterfuck of drama.

It was even more unfortunate than that Cece actually enjoyed her time here. The people, the excitement, the drama. Cece had never been much for staying lowkey. She hadn’t been in California and she hadn’t been within the coven either. She wasn’t sure why she thought she had any chance of doing it in Maine either. “You have a real knack for dragging me into your shitstorm, don’t you? You’re lucky I love you.”

Cece rolled her eyes. She guessed she was going to have to explain to Camille and Jane tomorrow why the toaster was suddenly gone. “Oh sure. I’ll wait with baited breath,” Cece laughed, sarcasm apparent in its tone. “I’m going to regret offering to help you, I know it already.” But it was better than sitting at home alone, she supposed.

#p: cece #para #mushroom manipulation tw #slice of life

[january-glooms]

15, 19, 29 aaaaaaand... idk, 30

hi hi jae :) sorry it took so long some people wouldn’t shut up

15. five most influential books over your lifetime.

uhhh i read a lot, but these really shaped me as a person:

Harry Potter (all of them, it was the first series i ever read and it were the first books i read in english)

Narnia (once again really shaped me as a child)

Murder on the Orient Express (it's where my love for playing detective came from)

The Dark Tower or anything by Stephen King (the way his work always connects is fucking insane)

Lies We Tell Ourselves by Robin Talley (this is the most recent book i read, but it’s very dear to my heart)

19. which Harry Potter house would you be in? or are you a muggle?

jae, jae let me tell you how happy this question makes me. i am a fucking muggleborn ravenclaw, i have a whole ass backstory and i run an underground mob for muggle candy, school stuff such as pens and notebooks. i'm that kid talk talks in vines and pop culture references, i start singing we are the champions when we win the house cup and/or the quidditch cup. i set up wifi around the school and how do i wear my uniform you ask. well,,, white dress shirt with a dark blue tie, black leather jacket, black ripped jeans with combat boots and my hair up in a messy bun with my wand in it

29. three songs that you connect with right now.

i don't think these will ever change but

exhale by Sabrina Carpenter

can’t help it by Anarbor

highway to hell by AC/DC

30. pick one of your favorite quotes.

i love some good quotes but the first that came to mind was this one:

“When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.”

- Sherlock Holmes

identity asks

#trish tag #noëmi answers #moonlight tag

[tempesrature]

The Case of the Murdered Witch Doctors | Chapter 5

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 The Charm of Lost Things (Oneshot Follow-up) Creative Process Note Commissioned Art Piece

Pairing: Ride or Die | Ellie x Colt Summary:  “It is my belief, Watson, founded upon my experience, that the lowest and vilest alleys in London do not present a more dreadful record of sin than does the smiling and beautiful countryside.” - Arthur Conan Doyle, Sherlock Holmes: The Complete Novels and Stories, Volume I  Word Count: 2k+ Warnings: PG-16 @rodappreciationweek @lovehugsandcandy

~*~

Colt sighs and runs his hand through his hair as he tries to calm the stormy gold fliting across his eyes.

Ellie looks up from her projected notes and her gaze lands on Colt sitting next to her in the dim meeting room, the curtains drawn and covering the expansive windows from the strong sunlight. Somehow, she’s gotten better at reading his cues. Not that she was ever bad at reading cues, she learned from her father after all, but she seems to be especially attuned to Colt’s cues and body language more than ever. Despite his rather gruff and abrasive attitude, his eyes gives away most of his emotions.

“I can tell that you’re pissed you know,” Ellie teases as she bumps her knee against his.

Colt scoffs and turns to her with a frown. “Yeah? What gave it away? Is it the fact that I’m meeting with the person who murdered my pop or is it something else I didn’t catch?”

Ellie falters a little as she frowns and lays a gentle hand on his thigh. “You can leave if you want. I won’t force you to stay here if it’s too difficult for you.”

Colt scoffs at the idea as he takes her hand on his lap, squeezing it briefly, before he moves it away. “And leave you alone in a room with a murderer? Like hell I will.”

Ellie grins at him, seeing the soft flit of gold in his eyes, and she opens her mouth to tease him when the double doors open and Jason Shaw enters the room. A tall imposing man wearing a brown leather jacket and black jeans with brown hair and snake-like blue eyes.

Her body goes into high alert, her back straightening, as she stands up to greet him while Colt remains stubbornly seated.

“Oh I see,” Jason grins as he bares his fangs and makes his way to the chair across them. “Now I know why the new Kaneko wanted to have a meeting with me.”

Colt growls, his eyes narrowed and fangs bared at Jason.

“I’m Detective Ellie Wheeler,” Ellie interjects hurriedly, not wanting to cause a fight between them in the middle of the afternoon, as she reaches out to shake Jason’s hand. “I’m the lead investigator of the death of Ernesto and Malina Kilat who were murdered a month ago in their home.”

“Wheeler?” Jason raises an eyebrow as he takes Ellie’s hand and, instead of shaking it, brings it up his nose to sniff it. Ellie quickly pulls her hand away from his grasp. “I see. You’ve bought such an interesting pet to me Kaneko.”

“Just answer the damn questions Shaw so we can get out of here,” Colt practically spits out the words, his golden eyes darkening in a menace as Jason takes his seat in front of them.

Ellie wastes no time with her questions.

“First, I’d like to know how you were acquainted with the Kilats and what you regularly purchased from them.”

Jason tilts his head to the side, his face blank. “Who are the Kilats?”

Ellie scrunches her nose, trying to see if he’s playing dumb on purpose, but she answers him nonetheless. “An albularyo family, witch doctors from the Philippines.”

“Ah, I remember now,” Jason chuckles as he leans back on his chair, his eyes glinting with green. “Lovely family. You say they were murdered? How tragic.”

Colt reacts at the callousness of his tone but Ellie stops him by placing a hand on his thigh and squeezing tight.

“They were and with how the murder was conducted, our prime suspect happens to be a vampire. You were recorded as one of their frequent customers.”

“Hmm…oh yes,” Jason replies, almost bored at the hidden accusation in Ellie’s words. “Let’s see…I do remember purchasing some potions but I don’t really remember the name or purpose of them.”

Jason smiles pleasantly at Ellie and she looks back at him with a stony expression.

“Try your best to remember the name and purpose of the potions Mr. Shaw.”

Jason smiles amusingly. “Ahh…could it be perhaps the Fern Libation? Although I can’t be too sure since all I remember is the purple bottle.”

Ellie’s eyes widen for a moment as she feels Colt bump her knee from underneath the table. She immediately understands what he’s trying to tell her: Do not ask further questions about it.

Although the Fern Flower can be used without disastrous side-effects in small amounts (like the Fern Flower blunt), it can be dangerous and highly addictive in larger amounts. Fern Libation is the worse of them all since it uses a highly concentrated amount that can be deadly not only to magical creatures but mortals too. The Agency, specifically the Elves division, has been trying their best to crack down on it before it fully catches the attention of the mortal world.

It’s a dangerous territory to tread and Colt’s right, she shouldn’t ask questions about it. Especially when there have been quiet but insistent rumors that one of the biggest suppliers of Fern Libation happens to be the man currently sitting across from her.

But she’s stubborn, reckless and she wants the truth.

“Are you implying that the Kilats were producing Fern Libation?” She asks as she hears the deep sigh coming from Colt.

Jason grins as the edges of his eyes crinkle in amusement. “I’m not implying anything Detective. As I’ve said, I don’t remember much. Old age really does mess with your memory,” He lets out a brief laugh before his lips twitch into a smile. “But maybe you’ll like this answer more: I used to regularly feed on the wife.”

Ellie’s eyes widen as she glances to Colt who looks back at her with the same expression.

“…So you were having an affair with Mrs. Malina?” Ellie asks, her nose wrinkling in disgust.

“Affair?” Jason confirms, his eyes blinking at the word before realization dawns on his face. “Oh I suppose that is a good word to use for it but she was just someone I used for feeding.”

“Shaw, she was a magical creature. How can you even stomach the blood?” Colt says, his nose wrinkling in disgust at the memory of the taste. “Not to mention she’s what? Close to two hundred years old?”

Jason lets out a hearty laugh as his eyes dance in a bright green. “That’s the thing with younger vampires, so picky with the age and taste. After you live a few centuries, things like those don’t really matter anymore.”

Jason smirks as he leans forward. His eyes glinting in a green that seems animalistic, predatory, in the dim light of the room. The look he gives them almost traps them both on their seat and Colt sits straighter, his own eyes narrowing in a gold hue that edges on red, as Ellie moves one hand under the table to gather up a little of her magic in case a fight breaks out.

“Do you want to know why she was one of my favorites?” Jason asks, his voice cold and affectionate, as he continues. “When I feed on creatures, I get to live through the deepest and darkest parts of their memories. The ones they’ve tucked into the little corners of their mind. The Kilat wife saw the Spanish invasion of her country and witnessed the end of her lineage as the last witch doctor of her village. Every last one, killed and slaughtered right in front of her,” Jason licks his lips as his green eyes flick to Colt, his voice heavy and feral. “And what’s more delicious than the memory of seeing the end of your bloodline?”

Colt’s eyes widen before they narrow, anger boiling deep inside him that it heats up his skin. He opens his mouth, ready to throw out the very worst of his thoughts towards the man that murdered his father, when Ellie stands up and slams her hand on the table with a loud bang. The force of it sending crackles of blue sparks that reach the edges of the table and leave burn marks across the wooden surface.

“We’re done here,” Ellie speaks, her voice eerily calm in comparison to the deep and dark blues of her eyes. 

She pushes herself away from the table and Colt stands from his own seat, sending one last glare to the smiling Jason on the table.

“Oh by the way Detective,” Jason calls out as he leans back and balances his chair on two legs just as Ellie’s about to walk out of the door. “If you crosscheck the time of the murder to my whereabouts, you’ll see that I was in Europe for the entire month. You can pick up my travel itinerary from my assistant on your way out,” Jason sighs as his lips pull into a sad frown. “Also, I can’t see the memory if I don’t directly feed from the creature. It might not mean much but I truly do grieve for the lost of one of my favorite memories.”

“You’re right,” Ellie confirms as she looks at Jason with a hard glare. “It doesn’t mean much at all.”

She turns and exits the meeting room as Colt slams the door behind them with a loud bang.

~*~

“He’s not our murderer,” Colt concludes as they step out into the sun and out of the building.

“No,” Ellie sighs as she looks at the piece of paper in her hand that clearly places him in Paris during the time of the murder. She massages her forehead to push back the headache as she subtly uses magic to send the paper back to her office table. “He’s an absolute psychopath though.” 

Colt smirks as he bumps his shoulder against hers lightly. “Live long enough and they all turn out like that.”

Ellie chuckles wearily as she glances at him with a grateful smile. Colt returns her smile with his own before he looks up at the sky and squints a little at the sunlight blinding his eyes. He looks down at his wristwatch, notes the time left, and nods before he turns to Ellie.

“Wanna get out of here?”

Ellie furrows her eyebrows. “Where would we go?”

Colt smirks. “It’s a surprise, come on.”

Colt leads them to the Cavalieri and swings his leg on the bike. Ellie follows after him, reaching out to take the bike helmet he offers her, before she takes her place behind him. She hesitates only for a moment but she eventually wraps her arms around his waist before the bike takes off and weaves through LA traffic.

~*~

“Wow,” Ellie breathes out as she takes off her helmet and hops off of the bike, her eyes taking in the vast expanse of the blue sea over the cliff. “How did you find this place?”

Colt shrugs as he stands next to her, his hands deep in his pants. “My pop took me here when I was younger. He said that this is where you can catch the sun where it’s brightest, where it’s strongest.”

Colt closes his eyes as he soaks in the strong rays of the sun, almost as if he’s drawing strength from it. Ellie observes him quietly and seeing the way his face relax and the way his body loosens up helps to ease the scramble of thoughts in her own brain.

Ellie steps forward and leans over the edge, her eyes going wide at the height. “Ever jumped down there?”

Colt scoffs as he stands next to her and peers down the edge too. “Not if you want to be the next case file in the Agency. Do you see how big those rocks are?”

Ellie leans back to look at him. “That’s easy. A little levitation spell before the jump and a water spell to cushion your fall and you’ll be fine.”

Colt looks at her incredulously, a smile pulling on his lips. “Yeah because everyone is a genius witch like you.”

Ellie’s eyes widen before she smiles brilliantly. “A genius witch huh?”

Colt rolls his eyes but he can’t hide the smile anymore. “Yeah, yeah enjoy it while you can. I keep my compliments a maximum of three a month.”

“Sounds like I still have two more then,” Ellie grins.

Colt chuckles as he shakes his head at her, his eyes sparkling in a soft gold, and Ellie can’t help but feel…vulnerable under his eyes. She doesn’t hate the feeling but rather welcomes it. Even if it does make her feel like there’s a knot in her chest that she can’t unravel.

“Wanna see something cool?” She asks to try to distract herself from him.

“Sure,” Colt shrugs but the curiosity in his voice is unmistakable. “Show me.”

Ellie nods as she takes a step forward and faces the sea. She raises both of her hands, the blue sparks already dancing around her fingertips, and with a quick flick of her wrist her magic descends and lands on the waves below.

“Holy shit!” Colt exclaims as he takes a step forward, his eyes latching to a patch of the once blue ocean now sparkling and shining with a color of brilliant gold below them. “How the hell did you do that?”

“I learned how the ocean absorbs light to give it that blue color in mortal school. So if you use magic to mess around with the wavelength of the light you can pretty much change the colors to whatever you like,” Ellie says proudly as she looks at Colt with a big grin.

“Shit that’s amazing, Ellie. I’ve never seen a witch do that!”

Ellie blinks, her hold on her magic on the ocean disappearing as she regards him seriously. “You called me Ellie.”

“Yeah,” Colt says, suddenly aware that the name slipped out without his permission, and he doesn’t really know how to handle that, his tongue seemingly so loose and free when he’s in front of Ellie Wheeler. So he resorts to what he knows best, teasing. “Or do you like Miss Half a Witch more?”

“Definitely not,” Ellie laughs, her gaze holding his as she unconsciously leans in closer to him. “I like hearing you say my name.”

“Yeah?” Colt steps closer to her with a wide grin. “I know a way for you to hear it more.”

Ellie bites the bottom of her lip, his intentions definitely not lost on her. After all, they’ve be dancing around each other since they’ve met and it always ends with tension just bubbling on the surface. She knows, that if she accepts now, it won’t end with just a kiss.

A better part of her tells her that no, this is a bad idea. That sleeping with a vampire, a Primordial vampire, a Primordial vampire helping with the investigation, is number one on top ten things a good detective shouldn’t do.

And yet a part of her, the one that seems to call out to him so instinctually tells her that—one night can’t hurt, right?

Her eyes momentarily flick to the Cavalieri parked near them before she looks back at him. She licks her lips as her eyes dance with an excited and hungry blue.

“Show me then Colt.”

#rodaw #choices rod #colt x ellie #colt kaneko #vampire au #detective au #witch au #murder mystery #cw: police #cw: magic-drugs #my writing

[notsosecretspy]

The Kids Aren’t Alright

****************

Howdy guys, gals, and non-binary pals! This is yet again another fanfic that I started writing... back in 2015. So be prepared for some throwback 2015 fan fiction style with some 2020-editing flare thrown into it! It’s actually going to be uploaded into multiple parts because I had written so much of it and had intended to write it as a full story. Which I can still if for some people like this Either way, if you enjoy the nostalgia, like it currently, or find it humorously bad, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings:, cringe writing, talk of past child abuse, talk of child neglect, cursing, name calling, bullying, slight misogyny (seriously what was going on with past me?)

Word Count: 1,319

*****************

Preview

“Hello Josephine, Sherlock Holmes consulting detective. Mrs. Shannon thank you very kindly for the introduction. You run a very pleasant place around here.” Hmmm, this all seems to be a front. This is quite interesting… I’d love to see where this goes.

The Beginning

I didn’t think I would ever get a home after my legal parents got arrested. I had scars on my body and I didn’t trust people. I mean, what else are you supposed to feel when other children who are just frustrated with their own situations take out there emotions on you constantly? For years I was told I would never get a family that liked me and even though I knew that they weren’t really talking to me, the years of having people tell you the same things dampers your spirit. At this point, ever having a family that I didn’t make myself that would ever love me seems legitimately impossible.

Breaking from my thoughts I begin to peer across the many islands of fold-up tables and chairs before settling into an empty one by the kitchen. I heard a plate get put onto the counter next to me and started pulling it in my direction. I suddenly felt a pull on the plate and saw Dumber and Dumbest (some of my old bullies) sneering as they pulled the plate of eggs there was between us.

“What do you think you are doing egghead?”

I turned with one of my eyebrows raised. “You know you just referred to me as an intellectual, right?”

Dumber named Kevin smacked Dumbest (Charlie) in the gut. Charlie just shrugged.

“Whatever nerd. What do you think you are doing with those,” Kevin asks, glancing down at the innocent breakfast laying helplessly on my plate.

“About to eat. Is there anything that I can do for you?” I try calmly while avoiding his eyes, hoping to not create issues so early in the morning.

That is when I got a harsh slap across the face. I felt cheekbone sting a bit and felt that it was bleeding, but it’s not anything compared to what I was used to. But still damn, was he wearing a ring today or something?

“I want you to look at me when I’m talking to you whore.”

“I don’t want any trouble right now so please just take the plate. I won’t fight you for it.” I let go of the plate and waited for Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumbarse to grab it and leave before grabbing the next plate. Eventually, I made my way out of the cafeteria and up to my room again. The window was opened and honestly, it’s a tad windy, but other than that it was perfect day outside. Time to seize the time I have before tutoring. The opportunity I’m taking, being my violin practice.

I started playing Ashokan Farewell. It’s something that I’ve been trying to learn and honestly, it’s really sad but I think I’ve almost mastered it. And mastered not crying during it. I was about three minutes into it when I heard my name get called over the intercom whomst’ever, I’m electing to ignore it.

“Hey dumbass, didn’t you hear your name being called,” said Sophie, definitely interrupting me from violin practice and just perching herself in the door frame.

“Of course I did bitch but sometimes you just gotta ignore the things that you don’t care about.” I replied with a small smirk on my face. This is just how me and Sophie are really. We know we don’t mean it to each other. I wouldn’t necessarily call each other friends but if you could call someone you live with a colleague, that’d be her. And we’d constantly talk about how much we hate ‘work.’

“Well you better get going then. But who did that to ya,” she asked with the mocha skin on her forehead scrunching to raise her eyebrow and a giving a slight pat to the door frame.

“Take a guess.”

“Eh, they can go bugger off honestly. But, I’d get downstairs. Who knows, maybe someone wants to meet you, yeah?”

That’s something that gives me slight pause. And by the time I go to respond, Sophie had already turned away from the door. I had seen many people come through here and leave. I’m one of the children that have been here the longest. My home since I was 6 is the East London Daycare and Orphanage. I am turning 15 making it almost my ninth year living in this place.

Really, besides some of the people here, this place isn’t as bad as I know it really could be. Yeah, the food is slightly less than decent and it gets fairly cold in the winter and fairly hot in the summer, but at least I am not on the streets I guess. I have been going to the orphanage’s school for a while but I am 3 grades above where everyone else my age is. No one is allowed here after 18 so luckily the government has assigned me a special tutor to come and teach me my last year of high school.

Besides Sophie, I’ve been disliked among some of the other kids. Some of this I guess is my own fault. When I talked to my tutor about it, she mentioned how maybe kids are intimidated of me because I seem to know so much more than everyone else and don’t make myself seem very open. But I don’t really know what to do with that information for now. For a while I thought that it was just because of my massive intellect and my distrustfulness. Because, to me, everyone is out to hurt me unless proven otherwise. If I was the world, I would be doing exactIy the opposite of the 11th Human Right. I guess it’s a side effect of being abused. I always wear my long teal hair in a french braid down the back of my head and wore a pair of black glasses that framed my weird blue-green eyes. I used to think that they were really pretty. But after a particular incident when I was in actual grade school where a boy called me alien-eyes and everyone else thought it was the funniest goddam thing in the entire world, I’ve decided that at least for now they’re just weird.

After taking a moment once my task of putting my violin away was finished, I decided that I put off the intercom enough and I start to open my drawer and put on my pair of ripped skinny jeans, a tank top, plaid shirt, and my leather jacket before heading down the small metal and linoleum staircase. Finally, I made my way to the office to see our principle with a man that was tall, black hair, pale skin, eyes similar to my own but more yellowish and more piercing. His hair seemed fluffy and when he saw me and reached out to shake my hand, he had calluses that I’ve noticed before. Thankfully, I’m also short enough in comparison to him where I can see a slight mark under his chin.

My guess is that he lives with another person. Maybe a man by the way his hair was. Logically, a women would have fussed about making an impression for something like this. (Or quite possibly they wouldn’t know???) But, either way, I can tell that he plays violin. But I could tell something else too, he was reading me like I was reading him. I don’t usually like reading people so much but it helps when you have PTSD and are schizophrenic, though I’ve kind of grown out of it since I’ve grown up. I used to have hallucinations and crazy explosiveness but it’s certainly gotten better.

“Josie,’ said Mrs. Shannon politely, ‘this is Sherlock Holmes. He is looking to adopt you.”

“Hello Josephine, Sherlock Holmes consulting detective. Mrs. Shannon thank you very kindly for the introduction. You run a very pleasant place around here.” Hmmm, this seems to be a front. This is quite interesting… I’d love to see where this goes.

#sherlock #bbc sherlock #bbc #johnlock #john watson #sherlock holmes #cringy writing #cringe #nostalgia #old tumblr #not like other girls syndrome #benedict cumberbatch #martin freeman #mrs. hudson

[thefandomdad]

The best friends brother/ The brothers best friend (part 1)

Summary: Mycroft has judged Sherlock for having friends but what happens when Sherlock finds out that his brother has been a hypocrite.

Arthurs note: I don’t know what this story is. All I know is that the characters probably aren’t gonna be exactly like the show wrote them, I know that there is gonna be a teasing sarcastic reader and there is maybe gonna be Mystrade.

I apologize in advance if you don’t understand the story because honestly I don’t I just tried to put my thoughts into words.

Lestrade, John and Sherlock was standing around the crime scene with Donovan and Anderson behind them glaring at Sherlock with hate and jealousy. They where currently at the beach with a mans corpse laying just a few meters from the water! The man had been shot in the head and stabbed in the back multiple times. The five of them turned around when they heard aloud noise coming from the road behind them. "Oh great Y/N is here" Donovan said rolling her eyes with annoyance. Y/N walked up to Lestrade handing him a file. "I need your signature Sir" she said looking Lestrade directly in the eyes! She was wearing high waisted black jeans, black combat boots, a white tank top and a black leather jacket. "Can't you just wait? I'm in the middle of a case!" Lestrade looked to her annoyed and glanced towards Sherlock who was now observing Y/N instead of the dead man in front of him.

"I know but I need your signature now so I can take my day off tomorrow! Knowing you, you won't be back at the office until tomorrow because you're going to be too busy helping your boyfriend over there with this case, and I'm not overly fond with coming in on my day off so you can sign this now" Y/N said still looking him in the eyes with full confidence! Lestrade sighted and took the pen she was holding out for him to sign with. Y/N glanced at the corps on the ground and started to analyse what she saw. She took her jacket of throwing it over Lestrade's arms and took some gloves from the table next to her. She started to walk out in the water with the flash light on her phone on, looking for something in the water. After two minutes she found what she was looking for and bent down to pick it up, in her hand she held a knife. She walks up to the table again putting the knife in one of the plastic bags for evidence. "It can't have been in the water for more then 6 hours, if you're lucky you might find some finger prints on it, not that you will need it cause it would be quite easy to find the killer with out it" she said looking at Lestrade again. Lestrade looked at her with a proud smile while John looked at her stunned. "How did you know it was going to be there" he asked her still a-bit stunned. Y/N looked at him and gave him a tinny smile. "It was quite easy really" she paused looking at Lestrade for permission to go on, Lestrade nodded and she continued looking John strait in the eyes. "The man died from the shot in the head but the killer still wasn't satisfied so he took the victims knife stabbing him the back multiple times taking out his anger, how I know it was the victims knife? Well he has a knife sheath on the back of he's belt, so the killer shot the victim in his head, took the victims knife and stabbed him in the back" "Okay but how did you know the knife was gonna be in the water" John asked a bit confused and interested in the same time. "Well he needed to get ride of the evidence, the gun was probably his so he couldn't throw it away anywhere near the corps so he had to keep it, but the knife wasn't his so he had to get rid of it, I mean walking around with another mans knife who had just gotten stabbed by his own knife would be quite suspicious wouldn't you think? So he had to get rid of but it had his finger prints on it so he had to clean it first! That's when he sees the water, thinking quickly he takes the knife and throws it as far as he can! Looking at the cuts on the corps and the size of the sheath the knife would be quite big so it wouldn't have gotten that far out and it would be to heavy for the stream to move it meaning it would be on the same place as it landed, but you won't need the finger prints to find the killer" Y/N said "And why is that?" Lestrade asked her, "Because who ever killed this man is a friend of his ex-wife's" "Ex-wife?" "Obviously! The ring finger on his left hand" she said pointing at the corpse left hand, "you can still se the out line of the ring but there haven't been one for over two weeks which means he's newly divorced probably because he was cheating" "Cheating?" "Yes, he has lipstick on his shirt collar and I glanced in his briefcase on the evidence table on my way here and saw a picture of him and a young girl with some love letters, now being in a new relationship only two weeks after being divorced is a bit weird so obviously he was cheating on his wife with this girl, the wife found out and got a divorce, that's why the killer murdered our victim, seeing his friend hart broken he wanted revenge so..." Y/N gestured towards the corpse and looked at Lestrade to se if she did good and was meet by a big smile on his face which left Y/N blushing a little. She turned around when she heard someone snort behind her and saw Donovan giving her a bitch stare. "Is there something wrong Donovan" Y/N asked her giving her an extra big and innocent smile just to irritate her more "You think you are so much better then us don't you" Donovan said looking furious at Y/N. "Oh sweetie and don't think, I know I'm better then you, because I have never needed Sherlock Holmes to solve any of my cases for me, I'm a big girl with a brain which is more then you can say" Y/N said smirking at Donovan. "I don't need the freak to solve any of my cases, Lestrade is the one who calls him" Donovan almost screamed, red in the face

"How do you know it's a he?" a new voice said. "Sorry" Y/N looked up and made eye contact with Sherlock "You referred to the killer as he. How do you know it's a man" he said looking a bit annoyed "Oh I don't, you're right maybe it's a woman or maybe it's neither" she said shrugging "How could it be neither?!" Donovan asked reiving a are you stupid look from bother Sherlock and Y/N. "Gender-neutral" they said at the same time.

"Well this has been fun but I need to go now" Y/N put on her jacket and took the file from Lestrade thanking him for his time and started to walk off. "See you around guys" she screams giving a salute in the air. She jumped on her motorcycle and drove off. "God! I really hate that woman" Donovan mutters as she walks of to the other cops on the crime scene.

(Time skip brought to you buy Mrs. Hudson shipping Johnlock)

Y/N walked in through the front door listening inside the house after voices, She heard them in the meeting room and decided to walk up to her room the change clothes into something more comfortable since she didn't plan on doing anything other the stay at home and watch a movie with her best friend, on her way to her room she stopped outside of her friends room debating with herself, after some time she went in to his room and walked over to his closet and stole one of his shirts, then she headed to her own room two doors away. Y/N was sitting in the library in front of the fireplace in some black leggings and her friends shirt reading a book and waiting for the people to leave the house. After about an hour she heard the voices getting louder and after a few minutes the front door closed and her best friend walked into the library looking at her. Y/N got up from the chair she was sitting in and put her book on the nightstand next to the chair, she walked over to her friend and he put his head on her shoulder, "How was the meeting?" She asked with a soft tone to her voice, "Horrible boring but necessary" he said his voice getting muffled by her shoulder "Are you wearing my shirt" he asked now standing in his full height looking down at her "Sorry Micky but tonight it's not you shirt" She said with a playful glint in her eyes Mycroft only chuckled lightly at her before they where interrupted by the door bell, "Are you expecting someone" Y/N asked Mycroft shake his head no and Y/N went to open the door, when she opened the door she smiled mischievously and turned her body back into the hose and screamed "Mycroft your brother is here! And he brought his boyfriend with him" Y/N turned around and gave Sherlock and John a big smile inviting them into the house. Y/N lead them into the library where Mycroft was sitting in one of the chairs sipping on his tea "Sherlock, Doctor Watson, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked as soon as they came in to the room. Y/N sat down on the chair next to Mycroft with her feet over one of the armrest towards Mycroft so she had a full view of the door and the other people in the room, there was a table in front of the two chairs with tea and cupcakes and on the other side of the table was a sofa, next to Y/N chair was a fireplace with two bookshelves on either side of it. John and Sherlock sat down on the sofa Sherlock in front of his brother and John in front of Y/N. "I see you've gotten yourself a goldfish brother" Sherlock said glancing over towards Y/N and then back at his brother "Actually I'm more of a chimpanzee" Y/N said smirking making Mycroft chuckle a bit hiding his face with his tea mug. Sherlock glared at her making Y/N's smirk grow wider. "Something wrong Shedford?"She asked still keeping the smirk on her face. "Sherlock" Sherlock growled at her "Bless you" she said making Mycroft laugh and spill his tea. Y/N took a napkin from the table handing it to Mycroft to glean up after himself and setting his now half empty tea cup on the table smiling big at him. "You forgot to swallow dear" She said trying to keep herself from laughing, "Yes! I'm not use to it since that's often your job" Mycroft said sending Y/N a devilish smile! John who had been quite the whole time cleared his throat getting everyone's attention. "Are you two" he said pointing between Y/N and Mycroft "Together?" He finely said making both Mycroft and Y/N burst out laughing confusing Sherlock and John even more because they've never seen Mycroft laugh before. After collecting them self Mycroft answered "No, Y/N is only a friend" "Yes and I'm pretty sure Micky is gay" Y/N said earning a death glare from Mycroft which she brushed off with an innocent smile. Y/N looked over to Sherlock who was still looking at her with consented eyes, it looked like he was getting a headache. "Who are you" He asked looking Y/N directly in the eyes "Why can't I deduct you?" He looked at her irritated. "Oh that's a simple question" she said "You can't deduct me because I'm not letting you deduct me" she looked over to Mycroft and then back to Sherlock "I've been friends with your brother for almost two years and it got quite annoying when I couldn't keep things from him or when he deduct me instead of conversing with me so I learned how to shut him out, and well since your brother is smarter then you it's not very hard for me to shut you out too" Y/N looked Sherlock in the eyes fight his dominance with her own, the tension between them was so thick that you could probably cut it with a knife. Y/N studied his face, she had to admit that he was quite handsome. He had a sharp jawline and amazing cheek bones, you could probably cut yourself slapping them and his eyes, they where gorgeous, so many different colours she almost got lost in them but her thoughts was interrupted by John. "Could you teach me that?!" Y/N turned her gaze at him giving him a questioning look, "How to shut him out, that would really help" "Oh! Yeah I could try, if I'm going to be completely honest with you Doctor Watson I'm not entirely sure how I do it myself but I could try and teach you" she said giving him a small smile "You can call me John" he said giving her an equally big smile back. "Okay John we didn't come here so you could flirt with my brothers pet" Sherlock said with irritation. Y/N turned her head back to Sherlock giving him a death glare. "I am not Mycroft's pet" she growled "I am just as much of a pet as John is but don't worry Sherlock, I'm not gonna steal your boyfriend" she said, saying his name with an mocking and irritated tone. It didn't matter how hot this guy was he was not going to insult her and get away with it. Mycroft could feel Y/N getting angry and didn't want to clean up the mess after Sherlock's corps for getting her angry after all this carpet cost about 3 million pound. "Well then wasn't this pleasant, but I think it's time for you to leave! I'll have my assistant put up a meeting. Thank you for the visit dear brother it's always lovely to see you and you to Doctor Watson" Mycroft said getting up from his chair as John got up from the sofa. Both John and Mycroft watch with nervousness as Y/N and Sherlock was having an angry stare off. John put his hands on Sherlock's shoulder getting him up from the sofa and out of the room. "Thank you for your time Mycroft, it was lovely to meet you Y/N, I hope we meet again soon" "You to John" Y/N said smiling as if she hadn't just tried to kill Sherlock with her mind. John pushed Sherlock out of the room and started walking to the front door. Mycroft placed himself back in his chair and looked over to Y/N watching drink her now cold tea. "Stop it Micky" Y/N said looking him in the eyes. "Ask me" Mycroft sighted hating the fact that he couldn't deduct her "How are you feeling" he said after a couple of seconds looking her in the eyes "I'm fine, tired and a bit irritated but fine" "Yes it looked like you were gonna kill Sherlock just there" he said chuckling a bit, Y/N smiled at him "Nah I just like messing with you Holmes people" Y/N took one of the cupcakes on the table and looked Mycroft in the eyes giving him a mischievous smile "So...." she said, Mycroft looked up at her from his newly refilled tea cup giving her a questioning look "How's it going with Greg?" She asked her smile growing bigger when she saw the pink that started to form on her best friends cheeks.

#sherlock #sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes #mycroft x reader #mycroft x lestrade #mycroft #john watson