#Crime-solving drama

[c2e1-book]

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[theunholyvirginemilyprentiss]

I feel like the Criminal Minds fandom is so unproblematic compared to most other ones, which is hilarious to me, because we’re the type of people who unwind by watching people being violently and brutally murdered.

Live footage of the CM fandom bonding murder style with memes and thirst posts:

[rosie-tyler]

Daniel LaRusso and Johnny Lawrence work as police detectives in the Los Angeles Police Department. Everything changes when Daniel becomes the obsession of Terry Silver, a criminal mastermind.

[movielosophy]

White Cat Legend | 👁️👁️

[heretherebedork]

The best way to solve crime is BL style... in a cozy bed with a hot guy while sharing a screen. @absolutebl this is why we need more crime-solving BLs.

[stayuntilthefoglifts]

Little rambling about Justice in the Dark/Silent Reading in 3..2..1...

To be honest, despite having read numerous novels that were later adapted into Chinese dramas, like Kaleidoscope of Death, Guardian, and Faraway Wanderers, which I consider my top three bromance adaptations, I never felt like these were the novels I would read more than one time, as I always do when I truly like the book.

When Justice in the Dark was released, the characters, the actors, and the scenography were reminding me of Guardian, so I gave it a go, and all I can say is that I was INVESTED. Then I saw that it only had 8 episodes, so I looked it up and found the novel and decided to read it as I wanted to know more about characters. Initially, I was hesitant about committing to a series with six books, and to be truthful, I kept putting off reading it. Yet a month ago, once I finally started, I was captivated. I never anticipated being so drawn to the plot, the characters, and the descriptions. The only long series that I was able to reread was Harry Potter, and whenever I heard people rave about other series, I often felt overwhelmed by the number of books and gave up early on. Yet, Silent Reading was a series I devoured in just three days, completely absorbed in the story. I was literally eating dinner and reading it because I wanted to know what comes next, what the characters will do in this difficult situation, and how their relationship will change. As I said, it was a long way when it came to actually reading it, but I don't regret it even a tiny bit. My friends know me as a devoted Potterhead, someone who could talk for hours about the characters and my affection for that series. Lately, I've been the same way about Silent Reading.

When it comes to characters, while it may not be evident in the drama, but Wenzhou is incredibly caring and loving; he would go to great lengths for his friends and for Fei Du, willing to break rules just to ensure their happiness and support them. At the beginning, he wasn’t the character that I would be truly interested in, but starting book 2, I fell in love with him as I started to understand why he is acting towards Fei Du as he is. I mention that this might not be apparent in the cdrama because a friend of mine was surprised to learn just how precious and nurturing Wenzhou is; he’s truly an angel.

As for Fei Du, I believe his portrayal in the cdrama is spot on, capturing his struggles with his parents beautifully, just as depicted in the novels. To be honest, I started watching Justice in the Dark just for Steven Zhang, my favorite chinese actor; his facial expressions alone can convey to the viewer the feelings that accompany the character he plays, and this has always been something that I loved about him. His casting as Fei Du was a brilliant choice; he masterfully portrayed the character's grief for his mother, his resentment towards his father, and the flirtation that might initially seem irritating but, upon deeper understanding, reveals his fear of loneliness. He has friends, don’t get me wrong, but were they truly friends or just people who he would spend time with just to be with someone? When I watched the cdrama, I first thought that he was an ass, a little overconfident boy, but then I understood why he did all that when I read the book.

I truly believe that if the drama wasn't canceled, it would be the best cdrama I've ever watched, as Silent Reading, apart from HP, was the best series I've ever read.

Little ss of the novel (I tried not to spoil anything) just a bit of how caring and cute they are.

[mugram]

"Justice" - Es' Trial One Voice Drama

Jackalope: You understand now, right?

Es: I believe so, yes…

Jackalope: Good! Good! Now, come with me. We have to go now. The prisoners might realize we’re not there yet. Since you prepared, MUGRAM, the first trial begins now! Or whatever! Let’s move!!

Es: Eh–??

: Go where?

Jackalope: Panopticon. It has a panoramic view of the prisoners’ rooms.

Es: Panopticon…?

Jackalope: Your head is a little foggy right? Sorry about that. I’ll explain a few things to you on the way.

Es: Okay. My memory problem won’t interfere with being the Warden.

Jackalope: …

: That’s good to know.

[footsteps]

Jackalope: Hey, Es, can you open the door?

Es: Eh? Can’t you… Right, you’re… never mind. [footsteps]

Jackalope: Look, the only door I can’t open is the one to your bedroom. Other rooms have an entrance for me.

Es: Oh, that’s… nice. Do I really have a… “rabbit” as another Warden?

Jackalope: …

: My feelings, Es… But, yes, I am technically another Warden.

[door opens, the pair walk]

Es: Eh… This hallway is long.

Jackalope: At the end of this passageway is your bedroom. There are various rooms and facilities along the way. Explaining it would take too long, so I’m skipping it, alright?

Es: What’s opposite my room?

Jackalope: My room! You can’t enter without my permission, though.

Es: Eh, I don’t plan on it. Plus, there’s no door big enough for a human anyway.

Jackalope: Oh, that’s true. [more footsteps] This is the prisoners’ shower room. Across is the storage room. Necessities are mostly here.

Es: The prisoners are allowed to go in and out of this passageway?

Jackalope: Yep, they need their necessities, correct?

Es: …

: Mhm.

Jackalope: Anyways, when they’re allowed in the passageway, whether showers should be separated by male and female and so on, the specific rules for their lives are things you decide later.

Es: …I can decide?

Jackalope: Yep! You can decide how MILGRAM is administered. So, if you want to make it heaven or hell, it’s up to you.

Es: I would ask why, but it’s probably because I’m the Warden, right? Even if I can’t remember.

Jackalope: Oh, yes.

Es: Oh, Jackalope. You might have to move faster. I might step on you.

Jackalope: I’m going as fast as I can, alright?! Hold on.

Es: …Sorry.

Jackalope: Anyways, this is the dining hall.

Es: Wait, who prepares the meals? Apart from the two of us, is there anyone else who–

Jackalope: I do.

Es: Oh. Wait– What??

Jackalope: I’m the head chef of MUGRAM. I can make anything you’d like.

Es: How can you even do that?? How do you hold a frying pan or a knife with like… your paws? Hands?

Jackalope: If I hold it firmly, I can.

Es: What…? How does your… fur not get into it??

Jackalope: If it’s molting season, then a lot of it gets in.

Es: What–

Jackalope: Alright, we’re finally at the heart of MUGRAM: the Panopticon.

[door opens]

Es: This is… Panopticon. It’s… a dome?

Jackalope: We’re at the north of the dome. The entrance is at the twelve o’clock position.

Es: So, I’m assuming each door is a prisoner’s room?

Jackalope: Yep, it’s pretty much like a clock. The prisoner number and the times match. Pretty easy to remember, right?

Es: Mhm.

Jackalope: Oh, there’s still some time left. Okay, I think I have time to introduce the prisoners. I’ve only seen their faces, though. [footsteps] So, the one o’clock room, prisoner number one, Mayumi Kubo.

: She has a… serious expression on her face. Honestly, I don’t really know if you’ll learn anything about her.

Es: Well, she’s a murderer. That’s all I need to know, isn’t it?

Jackalope: Yes… But… [sigh] Let’s just move on.

: Next, at two o’clock, prisoner number two, Masaru Iwai. He has an angry expression on his face. If I were you, I’d ensure he didn’t cause too much trouble. He looks like… a young adult. I couldn’t really tell that much, though.

Es: You don’t know the prisoners’ ages?

Jackalope: Ehh… Well, I’m not allowed to look into stuff like that. But, you are. So, figure them out the prisoners for me, will ya? [footsteps] At three o’clock, we have prisoner three, Keisuke Izumi. He looks… normal, I guess. It’s not like he seems shocked or anything; he’s just… normal.

Es: Well, he’s a murderer, isn’t he? I wouldn’t believe that if it were true…

Jackalope: Well, first impressions reveal a lot about a person, so…

Es: Huh. Anyways, the next prisoner is… Prisoner number four is Tomoko Shiratori.

Jackalope: Another serious-looking person. It’s sort of hard to understand these types of people; they never try to reveal anything about themselves unless they have to.

Es: Well, no matter, I’ll figure it out in the end and judge them according to the law–

Jackalope: Eh? According to the law? Well, if we just judged them according to the law, then there’s no point in you being here. [Es makes an annoyed noise] You should make decisions based on your own standards. Even if it's based on sex or love, I have no problem with it.

Es: …Let’s just move on.

Jackalope: Alright. The next prisoner is Shun Minami. They’re around… 25, I believe? She seems oddly happy, which I won’t question. I suppose you’ll have to find out why she seems so happy. Or it could be pretend. I don’t know.

Es: Due south. Six o’clock. We’re halfway through already?

Jackalope: Yep, this is prisoner number six, Daiki Kawaguchi. He looks pretty strong. I’d be careful around him as well. He seems like the type to tell you off if you did something bad.

Es: That sounds like a father, Jackalope.

Jackalope: …

: Okay, I wouldn’t know that, alright? Leave me alone.

: Either way, you’ll find out their true colors eventually.

Es: Sure.

Jackalope: Alright, prisoner number seven, Isamu Takao. He looks pretty kind and nice. I’d believe his expression if his hand wasn’t in a fist. I’d be careful of him as well.

Es: It seems like there are loads of prisoners I have to be careful around. What happens if I get attacked by one of them? It feels awkward to say, but I don’t think I could put up a fight with the likes of Daiki and Isamu.

Jackalope: They can’t attack us, guards. Don’t worry.

Es: Guards? So… It’s not the same for the prisoners? They can attack each other?

Jackalope: Pretty much. That could happen, but it really depends on your judgment. [footsteps] Now, this is prisoner number eight, Mia Fukuda. I believe she’s around your age, Es.

Es: Eh? Around my age?

Jackalope: Yeah. I don’t know if you two would relate because of that, but if it helps you find the truth, then I guess I don’t mind. You need to determine if they’re good people by talking to them. It’s basically your duty as the prison guard.

Es: Oh, I see. So, interrogating them is the only way to determine if I should forgive them or not, even if I don’t want to at all.

Jackalope: You got it!

Es: You sound awfully like a parent, J. [laughs]

Jackalope: Well, I am supervising you, so… [laughs] Anyways, next prisoner. Prisoner number nine, Ryuu Seki. He looks… interesting. I don’t know. He seems like one of those people who pretend to be someone else. I wouldn’t know, I guess.

Es: …Well, that is an interesting comment, isn’t it?

Jackalope: Last is prisoner ten, Sora Mochizuki. She looks exhausted. I’d say make sure she doesn’t pass out on you, but that’d be seriously out of taste. I hope whatever she committed relieved her of her exhaustion.

Es: That’s ten.

Jackalope: And, that’s the end of all of the prisoners I have to introduce. You just have to talk to them afterward and decide things for yourself.

Es: Hey, J?

Jackalope: Hm?

Es: At eleven o’clock, there’s another cell. It’s pretty old, judging by how rusty it is and its lack of a lock.

Jackalope: Ah, don’t worry about it. There’s nothing.

Es: What do you mean there’s nothi– [bell rings] What the hell was that?

Jackalope: It’s finally time for you to finally meet the prisoners face-to-face! If you have any doubts or confusions – anything! – you have to kill them all now. You’re supposed to be the Warden. Don’t hesitate. Make the prisoners respect you and your authority.

Es: Well… I guess, J. I am MUGRAM’s Warden. That’s all I have to know about myself, right? There’s nothing else I have to know. I’m looking forward to it a little… Meeting all the prisoners here and learning of their murders. [Jacklaope makes a noise of understanding.] With my own will, I’ll reveal their sins. I can put some of my feelings aside and decide if I really want to forgive these murderers. I wonder what their thoughts are… I want to know the truth.

Jackalope: …I see, Es.

[mechanical sounds]

Jackalope: Good luck, Es. I believe in you.

Es: I can do this. It’s my first job as the Warden.

[ominous footsteps]

Es: Good day, prisoners. I am Es, your Warden. This is the MUGRAM prison. It exists to judge your sins, all ten of you prisoners. I may not know much about you, but I am aware that you are all murderers – And, that’s all I know. So, from now on, I’ll have you enlighten me about yourselves. Welcome to MUGRAM. Have a nice life in prison.

MUSIC VIDEO - Judge, Jury, Executioner

[what-happened-in-skinner]

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We're officially back!

[j-eryewrites]

A Study in Pink (IV)

The Arbitrary Lives of the Occupants of 221 Baker Street. 

Previous | Next

SERIES MASTER LIST | MAIN MASTER LIST

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Mycroft is kidnapping people, Sherlock is Sherlock, Sherlock is kidnapping people. 

My cringy ass writing because I hadn’t written in a while (I Promise I’m going to edit it)

Y/N meets a Mycroft and gets dragged on a case. What could go wrong?

______________________________________________________________

It was quite late in the morning when Y/N had risen from her slumber. She had spent the night tossing and turning. It wasn’t until a violin started playing unsure of where it was coming from. Even so, she was able to fall asleep...

John and Sherlock seemed to be up and about. Occasionally bantering back and forth like a married couple. Their relationship amused Y/N, but she couldn’t see why John stuck around Sherlock. He was a kind and sweet man. The complete opposite of Sherlock; the rambunctious child with no concern for anyone but himself. Bjørn began to meow for his breakfast. He had been kind enough to let Y/N sleep in, but now that she was awake, he demanded her full attention. “Here you go Bjørn. Enjoy”. Bjørn purred as Y/N patted his head and began to eat. She smiled lovingly down at Bjørn. Y/N spent the rest of the morning unpacking the rest of her apartment.

Y/N decided to stop by Speedy’s once again. It was hard not to get addicted to their warm and fresh breakfast sandwiches and creamy lattes. This was an addiction that didn’t hurt anyone, so Y/N let herself indulge. As she ordered, the sound of a pitter-patter grew in the background. By the time her food was ready it was pouring outside. “Shit,” Y/N muttered. She glanced down at her apparel, “I did not prepare for this weather at all.” She would have made it a run for it, since 221 Baker Street wasn’t that far away, but groaned at the thought of stepping outside in the current weather. A buzzing in her pocket startled Y/N out of her miserable state. Pulling it out she noticed she was receiving a call from an anonymous number. She answered, “Hello?”

Her ears are met with a very posh man’s voice, “There is a security camera in the building to your left. Do you see it?”

An unsettling feeling began forming in Y/N’s stomach as her eyes caught glimpse of the security camera. “Who is this?” Her voice quivered. “Who’s speaking?”

The voice ignored her question, “Do you see the camera Ms. L/N?”

“Yes.”

“Watch,” the voice commanded. She did as she was told and watched how the camera swiveled away turning to look directly at her. “There is another camera at the back of the building. Do you see it?” 

Y/N’s eyes glanced around the room looking for the security camera and she found it. Like the other, it was looking directly at her. “Yea…” 

“And finally, in the middle of the building there sits a man in black on your right.” Y/N gulps and the grip on her phone tightens. 

“Okay, who are you and why the hell are you doing this?” 

Again, the voice ignored her inquiries and demanded, “Get into the car, Ms. L/N.” At that very moment, a black car with windows is dark as midnight pulls up to the curbside. The man from the cafe gets up and opens the door. He holds it open for Y/N, handing her an umbrella. She hesitantly takes it and he motions for her to enter the car. “I would make some sort of threat, but I’m sure your situation is quite clear to you.” Then the phone goes dead silent. Reluctantly, Y/N gets into the car, clutching her breakfast close to her. 

After sitting down, she comes face to face with a young woman sitting beside her. The lady’s eyes were solely fixed on the phone in front of her, typing away. Y/N’s breathing becomes tenser as she feels a cold sweat creep up on her neck. Her eyes begin to dart toward any possible escape as the car drives off to its destination. Suddenly a hand squeezes her knee. 

“My name’s Anthea. He only just wants a word with you.” Anthea reassures. 

“Great,” exclaimed Y/N sarcastically. “Any point in asking where I’m being taken to?” 

Anthea smiles briefly at Y/N, “None at all…”

Nodding, Y/N looked down at her breakfast deciding that she no longer had an appetite. She tried pulling out her phone to help distract her from the impending doom of who wanted to talk to her, but after receiving a warning from Anthea, she chose to occupy her mind in other ways. 

The man over the phone obviously had some power. Enough power to control the security cameras, have secret agent-type people and black cars pick up unsuspecting women. In the best-case scenario, it was a hot mafia man who had coincidently fallen in love with her.  In the worst-case scenario, it was the government and not just the government; someone high up in the government whose path she just so happened to cross. 

Sometime later, the car came to a stop, pulling into what appeared to be an empty warehouse. Well, the hot mafia man is out the window. The man from the cafe opens the door for Y/N and she steps out leaving her breakfast behind. Standing in the center of the open area is a man in a suit. His umbrella is nonchalantly hanging from his side. In front of him is a chair. The man lifts his umbrella and points toward the chair. “Have a seat, Ms. L/N”

Reluctantly she does. “Definitely not a hot mafia man,” she murmurs. After settling in the chair as best she can, she begins, “I have a phone, you know. You could have just called me instead of kidnapping off the street.” 

“When one is avoiding the attention of Sherlock Holmes, one learns to be discreet, hence this place.” He motions to the room around them. The man has a pleasant smile on his face. 

The mention of Sherlock Holmes catches her attention. Immediately sitting out of the chair. “This is because of him?!” The man seemed a bit taken aback by her attitude. “Look, Mister. Tell Sherly that no matter what he does: fake kidnapping, barging into my home in the late hours of the night, shooting his gun whenever he’s bored, or his crazy experiments will get me to leave! I am here to stay.”

The man’s eyes squint. “You don’t seem very afraid.”

“Well forgive me, but I grew up in America. I'm sure whatever Sherlock Holmes could throw at me; I’ve been through much worse.”

“Ah, yes. The bravery of a woman. Bravery is by far the kindest word stupidity, don’t you think?” He looks at Y/N sternly.  “What is your connection to Sherlock Holmes?”

“Other than him being my annoying neighbor. None.” She folds her arms and stands up straighter. “Now, my turn to ask questions. Who are you?”

“An interested party.” He responds.

“Interested in Sherlock? Well, I can’t help you there, buddy. He seems quite infatuated with himself. Wouldn’t want any of that.” Y/N chuckled. 

“Excuse me?” 

“If this is some plot to get Sherlock to show interest in you. I’m not your guy. The man is basically my nemesis.”

“Well, in his mind, I’m an enemy. If you were to ask him, he’d probably say his archenemy. He does love to be dramatic.” 

Y/N scoffs and looks around the warehouse. “Well, thank god you’re above all that.” Suddenly the phone in her pocket buzzes. She pulls it out of her pocket and looks at the message. 

SH

Baker Street. Come at once if convenient.

“I hope I’m not distracting you,” the man enunciates. 

Rubbing the back of her neck she placed her phone in her back pocket. How in the hell did Sherlock get her number? Probably from her aunt. “Not distracting me at all.”

“Good, do you plan to continue your association with Sherlock Holmes?” 

“Don’t get me wrong, but isn’t that none of your business by the way if I have anything to say about it? But to answer your question, no.”

“I could be my business.” The man responds as he takes a notebook from his suit pocket. He opens the notebook and consults it as he continues. “If you do, make Sherlock an associate and continue your stay in two hundred and twenty-one Baker Street, I’d be happy to pay you a meaningful sum of money on a regular basis to ease your way.” He closes the notebook at puts it away, making eye contact with Y/N.

“Why would I agree to this?”

“Because you’re not a wealthy woman and you’re currently out of a job.” 

“True,” acknowledged Y/N. “What would I be doing?”

“Providing me with Information. Nothing indiscreet. Nothing you’d feel… uncomfortable with. Just tell me what he’s up to.” 

“Why?”

“I worry about him. Constantly.”

“Well, I’m sure someone’s got to,” Y/N chuckled. 

Taking a beat, Mycroft continued. “But I would prefer for various reasons that my concern go unmentioned. We have what you might call a difficult relationship.” Before the man could finish his proposal, Y/N’s phone buzzed again. 

“Sorry, just got to…” She pulls out her phone again, checking the message. 

If inconvenient, come anyway. 

SH

 The audacity that Holmes has. After silencing her phone, she immediately responds with, “Yes.” 

“But I haven’t mentioned a figure,” said the man who seemed a bit taken aback as to her agreement. Had no one agreed to this proposal before?

“Doesn’t matter. As you said. I need a job and if you’re paying me to spy on my neighbour and relay the information back to you. I’d gladly do it seeing as you are a fellow enemy. An enemy of an enemy is my friend. Now I assume, you’re the type of man who can take care of things after I’ve agreed to this situation, correct?” The man nods his head. “Great! Well, I have places to be and people to spy in on, so are we done here?”

“You tell me.”  Y/N looks at the man for a long moment then begins to make her way back to the car. 

“One last question” Y/N proposed after stopping a few feet away. “What’s your name?”

“Mycroft,” he responds. 

“Pleasure doing business with you, Mycroft.”

The car door opens, and Anthea walks out and relays to Y/N that she’ll be taking her home. After getting into the car, she pulls her phone out of her pocket, glancing at Anthea. With no rebuttal from her, Y/N opens it. Seeing yet another message from Sherlock. 

Could be dangerous.

SH

How did you get my number?

Y/N

Your Aunt. Now come.

SH

(Read)

Anthea asks, “Address?”

Glancing up from her phone, Y/N says, “Uhh…221 B Baker Street.”

____________________________________________________________________________________

When Y/N enters 221 she tries to be as quiet as possible as she tiptoes her way to her flat. The voice of Sherlock breaks the silence as Y/N winces, “Y/N, I know you’re there.” Reluctantly she heads up the stairs and towards Sherlock and John’s flat. After entering the flat of 221B, she is met with John sitting uncomfortably in the red cushion chair, eyeing Sherlock as he’s sprawled out on the sofa, his shirt sleeves unbuttoned and pushed up his arms. A few buttons at the top of the shirt were unbuttoned as well and his face looked a bit flushed. His eyes snap open as sits up to greet Y/N. 

“You’re here. Please sit down,” Sherlock states. Y/N could have sat on the couch next to Sherlock, but he looked crazy, like a child who had consumed too much sugar. John began to ask Y/N how she was doing when Sherlock cut him off. 

“John, can I borrow your phone?” Chimed Sherlock.

“What for?”

“Don’t want to use my phone. There’s a chance it could be recognized.” 

“Not now Sherlock. I’m…busy.”

“You are busy staring at Y/N. Your phone is not. John, your phone.” Sighing, John reluctantly pulled out his phone and handed it to Sherlock. Quickly Sherlock opened the phone and began typing. Once he was satisfied with his work, he threw the phone back to John. Finally, Sherlock looked towards Y/N. His eyes widened. “Why are you here?” Inquired Sherlock.

Scoffing at Sherlock, Y/N grumbled, “So now you acknowledge me. I’ll have you know a certain someone asked me to be here.” 

“Well, I don’t need you anymore.” Sherlock explains. “Additionally, you are distracting John and I. Leave.”

Y/N’s jaw clenched at his demand. She slowly rose from her seat, glaring at Sherlock. She gave him a soft smile that made John’s stomach clench in fear for Sherlock. She carefully made her way out of the room, head held high. If Sherlock wanted to play this game, then she wouldn’t let him win. Why did I even come in the first place?

Sherlock shrugged his shoulders and took a seat on the couch. Extending his legs making himself comfortable. “Read,” instructed Sherlock. John turned to him, his face a mix between confusion and shock. “Read the messages.”

John looked at his phone reading what Sherlock had written. “What happened at Lauriston Gardens? I must have blacked out. What the hell is this Sherlock?!”

“Just keep reading.” Replied Sherlock calmly. 

John’s face flashed with uncertainty as he continued reading. “Please come to 22 Northumberland Street.” He looked back up at Sherlock. “What’s this then, Sherlock?”

Sighing, Sherlock stood up from his seat and made his way to his room. Moments later, he returned with a pink suitcase in his hand. John exchanged confused looks. Placing the suitcase on the table, Sherlock unzips it, revealing all its contents. 

“Sherlock, why do you have Jennifer Wilson’s suitcase?” 

‘I found it.”

“Okay...where did you find it?”

“I figured the killer would feel compelled to get rid of the case. It wouldn’t have taken him more than five minutes to dump the case somewhere. So, I checked every backstreet within a five-minute radius and found it.” He glanced up towards John, giving her a smug smile. “Now tell me, John, what’s missing?”

John slowly made his way over to the table to observe the contents of the pink suitcase. There was all manner of lingerie and explicit materials. Where’s the… “The phone?” blurted out John. Still quite upset with his friend. 

“Correct! There was no phone on the body and no phone in the case. The only logical explanation would be…”

To this, John replied, “The killer has the phone. Wait a minute, did you just text a murderer with my phone? You really are digging yourself a deep hole, Sherlock.”

Before Sherlock could reply, a ringing sound came from the phone in John’s hand. An unidentifiable number. “Imagine the killer receives a text that can only be from his last victim. There’s only one thing he would do...and that would be panic.” Sherlock practically leaps for his trench coat and swings the door open, waiting for John to follow suit. “Coming?” 

“No.” 

Sherlock raises his eyebrows in shock. “Why not?” 

“No, I won’t be doing anything with you until you apologize to Y/N.” Giving Sherlock a stern look. Similar to something you would see a church mother give to her misbehaving child. 

Sherlock's jaw clenched as he rolled his eyes in defeat. “Fine!” With that, he marched downstairs to Y/N’s apartment. 

___________________________________________________________________________________

Y/N stood in front of her bathroom mirror. The glass fogged up from the steam of her hot shower. She wiped away the fog to get a better look at her face. Brushing the hair out of her face. Y/N grabbed her loungewear set and fuzzy socks and put them on. Sighing she exited the bathroom. Her hand was running through her wet hair. She made her way to the couch, Bjørn meowing at her feet, and plopped down. 

“I would like to apologize,” said a baritone voice behind her. Causing her to jump out of her seat, grabbing the Bjørn and holding him up as if he was a weapon. When she saw the familiar figure, she relaxed a bit. Letting Bjørn jump out of her grip. 

“What the hell Sherlock?!” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“What?!” inquired a confused Y/N. She was still trying to process the whole Sherlock being in her flat.

“I was brash. I’m…I’m not saying it again.” barked Sherlock. Y/N cocked her head to the side. This sounded like a rehearsed apology. 

“I don’t forgive you.” 

“Yes, alright, let’s get a … you don’t forgive me?”  Questioned Sherlock. His blue eyes regained their cloudiness.

“Correct. Now if you’d please…”

“No, I said sorry. You have to forgive me.” 

“No.” 

“Y/N” seethed Sherlock. His voice was deep. Almost as if he was daring her to say no.

“Do you want me to say it in Spanish? NO!”  yelled Y/N. She crossed her arms and began glaring at Sherlock. Frustrated, Sherlock shook his arms in the air, hands tense. Rolling his eyes he approached her, forcing her to back up against her coffee table. “Sherlock, what are…” He was painfully close. Y/N could feel his cold breath on her face. All the calmness and compassion from early gone from his face. His stare bore into her. Her breath began to get heavy. Suddenly Sherlock picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. “Sherlock!” screamed Y/N. 

“John, grab her shoes and coat and meet me outside,” instructed Sherlock as he carried a flailing Y/N. John stood at the bottom of the stairs, eyes wide. Sherlock then opened the door, leaving John standing in the entryway of 221 by himself. Mrs. Hudson had come out of her flat after hearing the ruckus. 

“What is going on?” Asked the elderly landlady. Her eyes filled with worry for both her niece and her favourite detective. 

“He was supposed to apologize” was all John could mutter before he made his way to Y/N’s flat to grab the required items. 

________________________________________________________________

They were going to stake out 22 Northumberland. Y/N was pissed. If she could, she would have given the police at Scotland Yard a very gory crime scene. Sherlock purposely put her in the seat next to him. His arm wrapped tightly around her so she wouldn’t try and escape. This was his sorry excuse for an apology. John sat uncomfortably next to the two of them. Occasionally offering Y/N a sympathetic smile. 

Sherlock had dragged her and John to a restaurant. They were seated at a reserved table by a large window. Immediately sitting down on the bench, putting Y/N in the middle. John and Sherlock were sitting on the ends. Y/N was still sitting quite close to Sherlock. The very man she would be glad to slap again. Sherlock made himself comfortable. “22 Northumberland,” Sherlock stated, nodding his head to the street out the window, “keep your eye on it.” Dissatisfied with his view of the street, Sherlock moves closer to Y/N, hardly leaving any space for her. His arm draped over the back of her seat on the bench. 

“Sherlock,” politely (well in her best fake polite voice) asked Y/N, “do you mind scooching back? I need to breathe” 

Sherlock just stares at the girl and only then does Y/N realize how close Sherlock is to her. John shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Breathing? Oh, breathing’s boring. You need to accept my apology first.” 

“I will when you give me a decent apology.” Grunted Y/N. 

Scoffing Sherlock, rolls his eyes at the brunette. “That was a flawless apology.” 

“Of course, it was!” exclaimed Y/N sarcastically. “I could tell that John was…”

Just then a man approaches the table. “Sherlock! What a pleasure it is.” Clasping his hands as a bright smile lit his face, “John, how do you do?” 

John barely looks up at the man as he replies, “Good, thanks, Angelo.”

“Anything on the menu, free, for you, your date, Sherlock, and John.” Immediately Y/N froze. Her whole face turned a bright red as she grasped the implications the man was assuming. 

“Oh no, I’m not…”

“John will have the chicken parmesan, and Y/N will have the fettuccine alfredo.” casually replied Sherlock. 

Angelo nodded his head, clasping his hands together. “Anything for you Sherlock.” Turning his gaze to Y/N and Sherlock. “I’ll get a candle for the table. It’s more romantic.” 

“I’m not his date.” Exasperated Y/N. Once Angelo had gone from the table, Y/N elbowed Sherlock in the ribs. “I’m not your date.”  Sherlock took the warning and moved back to his original seat, rubbing his ribs. “Stop being a child,” explained Y/N.

“I’m not a child.” Replied Sherlock

John chimed in, “Oh no, he is.” Flashing Sherlock, a sarcastic smile. Rolling his eyes, Sherlock continued to look out the window. 

By the time their food had arrived, there was still no sign of the taxi. Thinking that it was a waste of food, she began to eat the creamy and velvety plate of alfredo in front of her. John ate away at his chicken parmesan, practically moaning with delight as he crunched into the chicken. Drumming his fingers on the table, Sherlock stared out the window, lost in thought. Eventually, John breaks the silence. “Sherlock, how’s Mycroft?” Upon hearing the name Y/N froze. Mycroft?

Unphased, Sherlock replies, “How should I know what my brother is up to?” 

A slight chuckle escaped Y/N’s mouth. Mycroft is Sherlock’s brother?!

Turning to glance at the woman next to him, Sherlock inquired, “What’s so funny?”

As she came up with a response, Mycroft’s words of indiscretion pop up in her head. “Just umm, did not take you as the sibling type. But now that you say it, I can totally see you as the youngest sibling.”

“And how would you know that?” Sherlock asked leaning closer to Y/N. 

Clearing her throat and nervous at Sherlock’s closeness, she replied. “You have a…youngest-child-air to you.”

Sherlock squinted his eyes at the woman in front of him, analyzing every detail about her. John recognizing the signs of Sherlock ability about to create havoc on Y/N, he decided to change the subject. “Y/N,” said her name a bit too loudly, “tell us about yourself. What do you do for work?”

“I… don’t have a job right now. Just looking for one,” responded Y/N as she moved her attention to John. Not giving Sherlock the satisfaction of the glaring game that was going on between the two of them. 

“Splendid. Boyfriend?” inquired John. Sherlock tore his eyes away from the woman towards John. The glare from before never leaving his face. 

“Nope.”

“Girlfriend?” John’s voice faltered a bit sensing this conversation wouldn’t lead anywhere. 

“No. I’m single. What about you?” Asked Y/N, returning the favor. 

“I’m… erm, single as well.”

A sigh escaped Y/N. The atmosphere grew quiet. John began to fiddle with his fingers. Y/N, wincing at thought of even asking Sherlock this question, she continued, “I’d doubt you’d have anything to add, Sherlock.”

Taking his gaze off of 22 Northumberland Street, he bore his pale blue eyes directly at Y/N’s eyes. The flickering of the candle reflected off of the specks of blue, making them seem like sparkling sapphires. “I consider myself married to my work. Besides, sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side.” The two of them continued to stare into each other's eyes until John coughed, signaling that a cab had arrived in front of 22 Northumberland Street. All of them turn around to face the window. “Look, no one is getting in. No one is getting out” stated Sherlock. Immediately Sherlock jumped out of the seat, fetched his coat and scarf, and was out the door. John and Y/N exchanged looks and scrambled out of the bench to follow him. 

The three of them stood outside of the restaurant eyeing the car. Suddenly the taxi pulled away from the curb. Sherlock takes off, running into the road ignoring oncoming traffic, almost getting hit. John, doing what he did best, apologized as he ran after Sherlock. Y/N stood on the sidewalk shivering as the wind began to pick up. Sherlock and John were out of sight, so Y/N then decided to call a cab but not before taking the Sherlock had ordered her and the others to go. Free food was free food. 

________________________________________________________________

Turning sharply, Sherlock dove into a nearby alleyway, jumping over various forms of trash that had been scattered about. Doing his best to follow, John slowly caught up to the consulting detective who was flashing Greg’s police badge at the taxi. John runs up to his friend, “Sherlock! What are…”, 

“Y/N. Where is she?” inquired Sherlock. 

“She was right behind me,” replied John as he glanced behind him. “It was dark. She must have lost us.”

John looked to Sherlock for reassurance to which Sherlock nodded. “Let’s go back to the flat. It’s getting cold. I’m sure Y/N found her way back.” John couldn’t help but agree with Sherlock. The evening had gotten colder, but that was not the cause for goosebumps appeared on his arms. He couldn’t help but feel as if something terribly wrong was about to happen.

________________________________________________________________

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[philcoulsonismyhero]

Man, I'd missed DnD. My flatmate got a group together and we had our fourth session tonight and it feels like we're really properly getting into the swing of it and it's So much fun.

My character, Benjamin Larkwright, is a war wizard who was a magically-trained soldier as a young man and then a watchman for about a decade before quitting to take up his magic again and become an adventurer, and playing a mystery adventure as an ex-cop who keeps forgetting about his magic and solving problems like a detective is Really fun. I'm getting to mess around with all the crime drama tropes that I love while Also being a wizard, it's Great.

A couple of stand-out moments from this last session included getting to do the Hot Fuzz fence jumping thing, where the loxodon paladin just walked through the garden wall and Benjamin, on principle, vaulted a bit of still-intact wall aaand managed to roll an 8, land badly on his bad ankle and nearly faceplant in the street. The other wizard who, despite being a nerd and unathletic, is also 17 and limber managed to get over the wall with no trouble and got waved off from helping him up with a cranky "I've got a bad ankle, it's fine, I'm old, leave me alone." (He's like 45ish.)

We'd also earlier been to talk to the local sheriff about the epidemic of missing people we'd been hired to investigate (by his sister, it turned out, who thought he wasn't doing enough about it), and I got to play Benjamin going from marching in all judgemental and dragging this guy's curtains open in the face of his dreadful hangover and pointedly shifting the bottles off his desk to put down the list of missings we got from his sister, to leaving with a gentle word about hangover cures and all his missing person files and a promise to deal with whatever hold the villain has over him that he couldn't tell us about but had clearly caused an extended breakdown and is preventing him from investigating properly himself. (Kidnapped wife and son, we later worked out, who are among the people going missing around this Highly Suspicious Casino that appeared in town six months ago.)

The best moment, though was when I finally got to catch the other wizard out on the gems she stole from a bag in the mail car when we were searching the train to the town for Weird Shit. She'd managed to do it while the rest of the party were all out on the platform tidying up the mess from our fight with a gargoyle that had also been sent in the post via the train, so none of us had any reason to even suspect she'd nicked them. But then we were investigating a weird magical effect outside the temple we were in, and Abigail goes and pulls out these gems right in front of Benjamin's nose to see if they react to the magical field. He recognises them from before, asks her where she got them from, and she lies to his face that they were something she inherited from his wizard grandfather. So, two sessions after the theft, I finally get to insight check her, with my +5 insight vs her +0 deception, and I roll a 21. Which, upon realising that there's nothing she can roll to beat that, causes me, out of character, delighted, to exclaim "ha! Get insighted, crime child!"

Which was apparently the highlight of the session to the DM and everyone else and got me an inspiration as the culmination of a bunch of good ex-policeman roleplaying, which was delightful. (Got a good grade in DnD, which is both normal to want and possible to achieve.) The player of the other wizard now desperately wants me to draw a very pleased-with-himself Benjamin looming over a cowering Abigail pointing and exclaiming "Get insighted, Crime Child!", he was that amused by it, and honestly I might later when I'm less busy.

In-universe, Benjamin just gave her The Look, though, and said "alright, I'll believe you", with them both knowing Full Well that he doesn't. It was then followed up by him dashing (so Detect Magic didn't run out) over to the temple down the street to check if the magic field effect was also unable to penetrate the inside of that temple, and passing Abigail who tried to follow him on the way back, much slower on her "weak nerd legs" and pestering her into jogging the whole way back again while Benjamin made it very clear without outright saying that the jogging was her penance for the petty crime. (He's not a watchman anymore and he's not her dad so he's just going to mess with the kid in the hope that it makes her think twice the next time she gets the urge to be sticky-fingered with potentially dangerous magical items. And also for his own amusement, tbh.)

It was all very funny, I'm having a great time being the (metaphorical, he's aroace) straight guy to the rest of the party's hijinks and also occasionally indulging in my own. We ended the session thoroughly convinced that all roads lead to the Suspect Casino, having tugged on every investigative thread to Benjamin's satisfaction (and everyone else's), and he snapped his suspiciously-police-looking notebook shut and said "On that, Droozh, we are in complete agreement." to the loxodon paladin's declaration that he thinks now is Definitely the time to march into the casino and demand to know what the hell is going on. And yes, Droozh has wanted to do that since we arrived in town and the place seemed a bit sus from the whole 'got sent a gargoyle in the post' thing, but now we can march in and start cracking skulls in an Informed and Well Considered manner, having a better idea of what we're up against.

I love DnD, I've missed it.

[exasperatedoctopus]

Have a crackpot theory: the people who enjoy most of the new police procedurals that have been coming out recently just secretly wanna watch soap operas but don’t have the Guts

[pureconancommentary]

Let him call, because again, Agasa was the one who set up this secret, he should be the one defending it. Again, the parent shows up out of the blue here, but I kinda wish they didn't. Because Shinichi's the protagonist, he has to deal with everything in the end, but I want Agasa to be confronted. Have him make up more lies. Bring in the parents slower, have them contact Kogoro to arrange for Conan to stay long term and work out payment. Ran asks about the parents and Kogoro is like 'oh it's fine, they're covering his stay', and Conan's going '...? ???????'. Agasa denies having anything to do with it on Yuusaku's orders. Conan frets about it for a while and they actually see how he'd react to potential unknown danger. And then spring the 'kidnap him' trap to fully show him what could possibly happen.

But I guess just 'kidnap him and potentially give him a heart attack to prove that death is a real possibility' without any setup or warning is fine, too, sure.

[mycenaae]

alec hardy really is character of all time. saddest wettest cat of a man that david tennant has ever played. not one single social skill. loves his daughter more than anything else in this world but cannot express himself in any normal human way. so stressed out about simply existing in the world that he's given himself a medical condition about it. accidentally bonded with the murderer in his first case in broadchurch over ellie complaining about him.

[movielosophy]

In Blossom | I want to marry you.

[cloudbattrolls]

@lashysdomain

Credit to @trolloled for the dunce cap bit, since Yarrex is his. I love Yarrex.