#Holmes and Watson's bickerings are wonderful

[redrobin-detective]

Everyone please watch the Granada Sherlock Holmes series. It's not only the most book accurate adaptions but they're so genuinely good! You don't need modern sensibilities or trope reversals to make the original Holmes stories shine.

[ghost-guard-13]

You Have My Sentiment, My Affections, and My Every Reguard

Sherlock Holmes x John Watson

Summary: Sherlock realizes he is in love with John, so he distances himself because surely he wouldn't feel the same-

John isn't having any of it.

Sherlock had come to the dreadful conclusion that he loved John Watson.

And if that wasn't bad enough, he'd deduced that he was also in love with him.

He'd carried sentiment for people before of course. An awful, taxing thing that made sure he'd pay the price. And he did, time and time again. He'd felt affection and fondness towards them as well, a strange twist in his gut different from when he was ill or everything about himself just felt wrong for even just a few hours. But never before had he felt this thundering, fluttering, blustering stutter of his heart every time John so much as looked his way or did anything even slightly endearing.

So, as he was taught to do by Mycroft and encouraged by himself, he began distancing himself. He quieted himself around the man, making excuses to leave the room or ignore him completely.

And John, the brilliant, wonderful man that he was, was catching on.

At first he just chalked it up to one of Sherlock's silent periods where he didn't see the point in talking or physically couldn't for hours - sometimes days - on end. But it had been two weeks of minimal interactions and snapping responses his flatmate usually only reserved for the folks at Scotland Yard.

So John began to wonder if he'd done something wrong, rubbed Sherlock the wrong way, came on too forward - which he wasn't sure was possible, with how oblivious the man was to normal social cues.

It only got worse when they were on a case. Sherlock would put effort into avoiding John, constantly keeping himself in check and trying to stay guarded. When he would begin his usual enthusiastic ranting, he would catch himself in the middle of a word and pinch his lips closed, looking away from him before finishing his thought with a final few words. Those words usually being "nevermind" or "ignore me".

And so here they are, one month after Sherlock's revelation, standing on opposite ends of their flat at 221B Baker Street and bickering like feral cats. Or an old married couple. Take your pick.

"What is your problem? Have I done something wrong? What was it?" John asked, desperately searching for an answer.

Sherlock had distanced himself behind a dining room chair, eyes darting around the room and fingers digging into the wooden back before twitching and flexing, repeating the process in his distress.

"Not a problem John. No problem. Why would there be an issue?"

"Well obviously there is!"

"It's fine John. Really, it's nothing."

"Sherlock-"

"It's nothing!" The man insisted irritably, rocking back and forth from behind the chair, eyes trained down and away, burying the urge to begin pacing because that could lead him closer to John and he wasn't sure what would happen if he did. His gaze flicked from his chemicals sitting on the counter to the rain pounding on the flats window, the repetitive sound both grounding him and setting him even more on edge. But he kept his eyes away. Anywhere that wasn't John's glistening blue eyes that always struck Sherlock Holmes in a trance.

"It's not nothing! You've been ignoring me and pushing me away! You're shutting yourself off and at this point being plain cruel! I tried to give you space but it's getting ridiculous!"

Sherlock bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from apologizing and explaining and exposing his disgusting desires.

"I'm your friend, mate, you can tell me anything." John coaxed after another minute of silence, seeing as he wasn't getting anywhere.

"I can't." He blurted, slightly quieter but just as insistent as his previous outburst.

John stopped short, hurt and desperation clawing behind his eyes.

"What do you mean you ca-"

"I just can't! I can't- I can't-"

Sherlock was working himself into a meltdown, his shouts turning into a stuttered mumble as he stared at his hands, his rocking much more obvious now, going from his heels to his toes, one hand leaving the back of the chair to bury itself painfully in his disheveled curls.

"Can't what, mate?" John asked softly, taking the gamble and slowly beginning to approach Sherlock. "Sherlock it's alright, I promise I won't get-"

"Hm, you can't promise. You can't promise not to be mad, not about this."

John's veins felt frozen over.

"What do you mean? Sherlock what did you do?"

"I didn't though! I didn't and I won't and I can't, I can't, I can't-"

"Sherlock," John tried to sooth as he would a child, voice calm and soft despite the tightness in his throat, the worry strangling his lungs. "I promise. You can tell me. What can't you do?"

Sherlock had surrendered his chanting to simply shaking his head aggressively, neck curved where he pushed his chin into his chest, eyes squeezed shut in a poor attempt to leave this conversation behind.

John wasn't giving up so easily.

Pushing himself from the spot he had rooted himself to when noticing that Sherlock was distancing himself in the beginning of the evening, John took long, deliberate steps towards the consulting detective, putting effort in making his expression calm.

"Sherlock." He called out again, now just on the other side of the table, standing behind a dining chair of his own. His friend just shook his head. "Sherlock, please." He allowed vulnerability in his voice, let the tears stinging the back of his eyes well forward but remain unshed.  He allowed it because it hurt and he needed Sherlock to know he cared.

"Please, just open your eyes at least. Please, just look at me." As if physically commanded to do so, Sherlock opened his eyes, peering up at John with tears gathering at the edges of his lashes, but not one was permitted to fall. The tactic of being aloof in the beginning of their growing argument had fallen long ago, now replaced by nothing but fear and hurt.

It took John off guard, because his friend was usually so good at hiding his emotions, so insistent that he didn't even have any to begin with. A 'high functioning sociopath' as he called himself. But John had seen sociopaths, worked with them, and he knew that Sherlock was far, far from being one. He knew that Sherlock felt so much and felt so deeply, but wouldn't ever admit it. Wouldn't let himself acknowledge this because it wasn't important.

John wanted to call bullshit.

"Sherlock, whatever it is, I won't be mad. I care about you so much. You're my best friend, mate. Whatever it is, you can tell me. Anything at all." John took a moment to steel himself, breathing deeply through his nose. "Sherlock, what can't you-"

"I can't stop thinking about you!"

And then it was like someone had stolen the breath straight from his lungs, his brain going just a bit fuzzy.

"I can't stop thinking about how selfless you are, or how careless you can be with your own life. I can't stop thinking about how much you care, or how good you are, or just how hard you try. I can't stop thinking about how brilliant you are John. How smart and clever and quick you are. You're so strong and determined and kind and it's frankly overwhelming." Sherlocks voice broke away then, his eyes darting across the room, knuckles white against the wood. But now that he'd started, he couldn't seem to stop.

"John, you are just so good, and- and I hold your opinion very dearly. You are quite literally the only person I can stand having around every hour of every day. You don't bore me, you don't aggrivate me, and somehow, for some reason, you've stayed. You've stayed through all of my moods and unsavory tendencies. You've helped me on cases when literal detectives are just as useless as civilians with zero experience. You've helped me when no one else would have bothered. You- you've never given up on me.

"Even now- this last month, today, I've treated you horribly and still you- you stayed. You gave me space because you know I have a tendency to to ignore everything and everyone around me. But you kept trying and I just kept pushing you away but you didn't leave. You stayed and you fought and you demanded answers and- and I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, John. I haven't been able to stop thinking about how much I love you."

The tears had fallen by this point. The tears had fallen a long time ago, tracking down both of their cheeks, irritating both of their eyes and suffocating both of their chests.

John stood at a loss for words, just as many questions being answered as they were appearing in Sherlock's head. His mouth was agape, mind grasping for at least one of his racing thoughts so he didn't have to watch his friends growing hurt and regret appear before his very eyes.

Because he wasn't just his friend. He wasn't just his best friend and flatmate and coworker. Sherlock was  a brilliant man that meant the world to him. He was blunt and sarcastic and felt too much but showed too little and didn't care how others felt about him but cared so much what John thought. Cared so much how John felt, how he worked, and relied on him to explained metaphors he didn't understand and pick up on cues he couldn't deduce and to get a second opinion when John replaced his human skull on the mantal that fateful day he decided to agree to a flatmate.

Most of all, Sherlock was his family. He was like a second half, his soulmate, if he were to believe in such things. Sherlock Holmes was John Watson's everything.

And John Watsons everything was currently shrinking in on himself and drawing his own conclusions because he still hasn't said anything.

Heart clenching with guilt, John finally found the strength to move his feet, because for the life of him he couldn't form a coherent thought, and surged towards Sherlocks end of the table. The man had gone from watching his every move to clenching his eyes shut and bowing his head to the table, and John regretted taking so long to respond.

He was by the detectives side in the next second, hands sliding to his shoulders and rubbing circles on the sides of his neck with his thumbs. Sherlock startled, but didn't pull away, shimmering eyes rimmed with red and tears as they finally looked into his own. His breath caught, muscles tensing under the doctor's fingers, waiting, watching, questions clear in his tear-smudged expression.

John trailed his thumbs up Sherlock's long neck and settled his palms against his cheeks, holding him there, swiping the tears away as he brought his forehead to meet his, observing Sherlock from beneath his lashes with an earnest gaze.

"Sherlock, you stupid, brilliant man." He murmured before bringing his lips to his.

At first it was just the press of his lips on his, just the thought of being there, just the notion that his feelings weren't unreciprocated. John's whole body thrummed with the feeling of Sherlock so close, so pliant in his hands as he melted into John's touch, so awkward but eager as he moving his mouth clumsily along with his.

John pulled away just barely, breathing hard as he heart raced from the slight contact. He didn't move far, and opened his eyes only a little to stare into Sherlock's own.

"Sherlock Holmes, I am completely and utterly in love with you." He confessed breathlessly, taking joy in the way his eyes widened and his lips broke into a grin he hadn't seen since before this agonizing month began. He couldn't help it, he pecked a kiss on his nose, earning an adorable squeak of objection from the man. "And I will pull you back as many times as I need to." He kissed his forehead. "As long as you'll let me."

"Okay." Was all he managed to say, before being kissed senseless by the ex-army doctor. John took his time, expressing the truth of his words through his actions, persistent in his love and care for the detective as he held him, the taller man grasping at the hair at the nape of his neck and his good shoulder for purchase.

They stayed like that until their lungs burned, until they couldn't bear another second without oxygen's aid, and broke away panting, still holding each other, still watching each other, still professing their love even as the rain pounding outside filled the silence.

"I love you." John felt the need to say.

"I love you." Sherlock whispered, fear turning into hope, hurt turning into adoration, his words turning into their third kiss.

I love you, was said and left unsaid many times that night. As it would continue to be.

[agentnico]

Brothers (2024) review

May this be the end of the Brenaissance?…

Plot: Two criminal twin brothers, one trying to reform, embark on a dangerous heist road trip. Facing legal troubles, gunfights and family drama, they must reconcile their differences before their mission leads to self-destruction.

I am of course kidding - nothing will stop Brendan Fraser from eventually fulfilling his destiny of total dominance of Hollywood and becoming the ultimate No 1 A-lister, and so far with winning an Academy Award for his incredible and raw performance in The Whale as well as popping up in a memorable cameo appearance in Martin Scorsese’s Killers of the Flower Moon he’s been right on track. Brothers may be a small dip, however of all the cast members Fraser may be the only one to come out completely unscathed on the other side. In fact, Fraser in Brothers reminded me a lot of the early days quirky Fraser roles like in George of the Jungle and Bedazzled just to name a few, where he over-acts every line yet he does so in such an entertaining and endearing way that you can’t help but enjoy his shenanigans. He’s a big bear-sized goofster here, and he’s evidently having the time of his life, and when Brendan is happy then we’re happy! The guy deserves all the love, just saying.

Anyway, as for the rest of Brothers, this is a huge misfire from Amazon Prime Video. Coming from the director of Palm Springs, which in all honestly was a decent little indie Groundhog Day style rom-com, all that charm is nowhere to be seen in his new film. This seems to want to place itself in the same endearing-white-trash-crime-family sandbox as Logan Lucky, only that it doesn’t really know what to do with its narrative-centric heist other than “we gotsta find these jewels” but let’s just get distracted by random unfunny shenanigans and oh what’s that? Ah yes, it’s Josh Brolin reluctantly jacking off an orangutan. Seriously, that’s in the movie. But yes, this movie is painfully unfunny, bland and forgettable. In fact it’s a tad embarrassing for all involved, especially the main cast who have more promising things to sign up for, so one wonders why they wasted their time here. Josh Brolin especially seems like a bankable star these days - was he really that short on cash to be needing to be here?

In short, this straight-to-streaming release is destined to get lost within the endless library of Prime Video, and is not even worth watching as a casual Saturday evening viewing. Honestly, the writing is terrible, so if you’re seeking a movie about two siblings endlessly bickering, then simply revert your eyes to Step Brothers and discover all you need to know about the Catalina Wine Mixer!

Overall score: 2/10

P.S. I’ve just read up on IMDb that Brothers’ screenplay was written by Etan Cohen, who’s responsible for that Holmes & Watson parody with Will Ferrell and John C. Reilly from a few years back. It’s all beginning to make sense now!

[wench-and-jezebel]

Sherlock Holmes (2009) Reaction:

Jezebel (@typicalopposite) reacts [with occasional asides by Wench (@scripted-downfall)]

[This reaction is sponsored by the Actual Snack Food I'm eating: I has a soda.  Be proud!]  Same!  Mtn dew!  It’s been a while since I had one… I’ve already drank three ☠️

Oh suspenseful music

RDJ!  He loooks so different without facial hair  [He does indeed]

Oooooof.  Ouch  [That was a very... awkwardly placed shimmy down to the knee tho… Buddy, why you getting that close?]

So like Sherlock’s thing. Is he’s really smart? Orrrr  [Ma'am-  Do you not know Sherlock Holmes?]  I know he’s a detective?  [Okay, hold up.  Pause… This is kinda a crucial bit of information ☠️]  Ok  [His thing is being observant.  And yes, being well versed in a lot of subjects, but-]  Soooo like shawn  [Yes, like Shawn.  Pretty much exactly like Shawn, but a little more drug addicted and differently fixated (e.g. not pop culture, and more science in general)]

Is that John?  [Yes]  Well.  I’m already seeing some Things.  “I like the hat”  “Thanks just picked it up”  [Also… "I thought I left the stove on" "You did"  DOMESTIC BLISS AT ITS FINEST]

Oh shit Watson got moves too  [Ma'am, Watson was in the military aksldjf]  Idk why I thought he just stood to the side like an npc  [Nah, he was an army doctor]

☠️☠️☠️☠️  [Oop-]  “Your colleague… won’t be moving with you”  [*simultaneously* "Your colleague?  Won't be moving with you, will he?"  Hmmmmm, why you asking, bud?]  ☠️☠️☠️ SBC

Aw man Watsons leaving.  Well, “Leaving”  [No wonder Holmes is moody]  Does he tho?  [I say nothing]

He’s like I must make myself look mentally unstable…. Oh I always do… damn

[Men will get on their knees in front of their best bro buds]  Detective bros? Crime solving bros?  Mystery bros?  Hmmm…   [Baker Street Bros]  YESSSSS OMG

[Poor pup :(]

Eww, not the woman  [Holmes not wanting to meet his best bro bud's girlfriend/fiancee]  

“You wear a jacket”  Why did you think I wouldn’t like this? ☠️☠️  [I said I couldn't remember it well aslkdfjalskdfj  It's been years since I saw it.  I said I wasn't going to stake my rep on it]

The smile.  THE SMILEEEE!  I LOVE RDJ

YESSSS

Oooof… Oh, let me fangirl over my love- your fiancé

Oh, ma’am… You shouldn’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to

I THOUGHT HE SAID “YOU’RE STUPID”  [alskdjf nope]  BUT HES MAKING HER FEEL IT ANYWAY  [I mean, she did ask]  OOOOOOOOOOF

WELL DAMN, HE AIN'T EVEN PHASED [That's another thing about Holmes... He does tend to be a bit arrogant.]  

What is happening?!?  [Holmes boxes]  Victorian-era boxing

Oooooof, sweeet lord.  This is hurting me

They are like… well damn

[Did I mention the drug-addicted bit?  He used morphine and cocaine in the books.]

Then you’d be a bastad.

Oh look: Bastad.

That looks unsafe

[Watson sulking]  Well, damn.  [Boyfriends bickering]  ☠️☠️☠️  Like every single line, I’m like.  Yep.  I be seeing the it.  [Yeahhhh me too.  Like I said, it was years ago that I watched this last, but now.  Now I see it.]  If I didn’t know there was hella fanfics I would already be checking, but I’ve seeeeeen it.  [I think most are about Sherlock tho.  Not Sherlock Holmes (2009)]  A lot I’ve read are for this one [Oh.  Well okay then.  I yield to your expertise.  I haven't looked ☠️]  I seek them

[Bruh, even this interaction verges on.  Things.]

Oh shit.  The way he slid into those bars

Buddy he has no sane thoughts in his head  [Which buddy?]  The bad guy

Ack.  Sweet lord

["Death is only the beginning"  They plagiarized The Mummy aslkdjfa;lskdfj]  Oh damn

Or is it 👀👀

Rachael McAdams!!!  I love her!

[This is a slightly less malicious BBC Musketeers Athos/Milady, btw]

Oh, burn: “And you’re between husbands”

[Actually, ma'am... I wouldn't put it passed you to poison an envelope, ngl.  Milady-coded.]

Ohhh Watson being pouty and jealous now  [What else is a guy's bud bro bestie to do?]

The screech  [Matt Meese-sounding mf]  Oh ☠️😂😂😂  

I’m ded.  He fell into the building

[WATSON]  “It’s nothing to do with me”  [LITERALLY DOING THE NAIL THING]

[“‘You’ means ‘us’”  "’You’ means ‘you’"  Watson, don't pretend]

Ackkk Marryyyy 😤😤 the name just keeps a bitchy reputation  (I say in defense of Sherlock being bitchy)

That’s me  [Lestrade?]  Yup.  Can’t pronounce the big word AND too scared to do my job

Sweet lord… Blech

[Bruh.  Y'all are saying the same thing at the same time.  That's kinda Subtext.]  😂😂😂😂

[Supernatural, you say?]  👀👀👀 Carry on my wayward soooooon

["Scratches around the keyhole"  *PTSD flashback from BBC Sherlock starts*]

Oooop- “Brothersss”  She means Bros

["Give her my best"  *Hates himself for saying it*  That's some right-fine pining, my dude]  ☠️☠️☠️☠️  [AND HIS SMILE WHEN JOHN CAME BACK???]  But.  But marryyy 😩😂😂😂  I love it

Oh mah gawd.  The poor frog

[I love their outfitssss.  Btw, this is how I dress.  Well, half the time.  The other half of the time, it's cargo pants and flannel as;ldkfj]  ‘Cause you were born in the wrong time  [This... Is true]

Moood

Thasss a big man

The screeeeeech

[Ring go bye-bye.  That feels symbolic]  ☠️☠️  [He does marry her before the next film, though, iirc]  Ahhh I see

“Brother”  [Sir didn't even remember the important ring he just bought in favor of running after his best bro bud]

Welp, he’s asleep.

Bitch better wake up

[Um.  Bud.  Buds.  That was–  Ya know what.  Okay.]  aka if you go we both go

Oh, Watson  ["Having been talked into going with you" Bro, you went back without a single bit of coercion] Don’t do the “I just risked my life for you then bitch you out for it” thing

[Y'ALL.  Y'ALLLLL]  “Steal your clothes,” huh?  [OUR DOG?!?!?]  Yep.  I can hear the fic ideas pinging off.  Like those troll hug bracelets…If you haven’t seen the movie you won’t get that  [alksdjf nope, I haven’t]

Like, how she was smiling?  Like… Bruh.  Ew

[Also, Watson acting like he's a paragon of relationships without Holmes’ interference when he just lost the ring he'd only just bought]  Right?!

Not me sitting here hoping this has the sappy ass (Sherlock) “fine, you want me to go away, I will”… (Watson) *miserable, comes crawling back*  [I KNOW.  SAME.  AND I CAN'T REMEMBER IF IT DOES OR NOT.]  If it doesn’t the fandom will ☠️  If the fandom doesn’t gimme 30 mins and it will 😭😂☠️  [I, personally, am a fan of this conversation being followed by serious personal harm to person 1.  Angsty though it is... Well, I guess that's on-brand]  I was gonna say that but my thumbs were cramping uppppp  [as;lkdjf]  Look at us being sadistic.  But with a happy end.  [As I said... on-brand]

Le gasp!  His son!

SOMEONE LET HIM PICK A LOCK!  SHEESH!

["I hit a dead end... and my bud bro bestie is fighting with me :("]  Now I sad

“Oh, dear” ☠️☠️

[Once again: the lighter, (only slightly) less toxic, less murder-couple-y Athos/Milady.  And the "less," btw, is by a smidgeon, not a bunch]

He ded

Damn… Jealous.  That’s a nice tub.  [You're about to not be jealous]  Ooooop ghost son’s a coming

[As I said, much less jealous… He just drowned/boiled to death in it.]  Blech.  BLECHHHH

So is this supernatural like… for real?  [Whyyyy do you think I'd tell you this?]

Poor maid

Is he like wigged out by dead people?  Sherlock, I mean?  [What do you mean by wigged out?  I thought I knew what you meant but don't see the context]  ‘Cause at the first one it was like he couldn’t look at the body. Then it seemed like he was weird when he walked in this room.  But he stopped this time.  [No, he's just observing.  And also hiding shit from the cops.]  Fair

I’m still feeling some type of way about her getting John out and not Sherlock too… and John just left.  The dishonor!  [I KNOW]

["Thanks for that, by the way"  John, give a bit more than that]  Dishonorrrr.  Hmph, and it’s a movie so any divorce arc we get is gonna be short-lived.  [That's the plot of this film: Baker Street Bros solve a case While Divorcing]  ☠️☠️☠️☠️  [Go to Google: that's the blurb that comes up]  I bet you if I typed that into google there’s a fic  [With a worse ship name]

["Not us."  "Right, of course."  Ummmmm Byler Rain Scene-coded???  "What did you think?  That we were never gonna get fiancees?  That we were just gonna sit in our flat all day and solve crimes for the rest of our lives?"  "Yeah.  I guess I did."]  ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

😂😂😂  [Bad guy did the swoop again]

Nooo.  Noooooo.  I’m ded.  He fucking shot in circles and used all his bullets

Oh shit

OH SHIT  [GAH DAMMIT LET HIM PICK A LOCK]  OH SHIT OH SHIT  [He still hasn't been able to :(]  This is like a fuckign saw movie

["Don't get excited… because I'm taking off your belt"]

Sweeet lord

[I love her outfittttt.  Once again: that's how I dress alksdjflsakj]

He got to pick one  [He did!]

[Also, why does he look so uncomfortable when she hugged him alksdjf]  I KNOW

Oh shit

[Oh yeah.  Watch this.  I do remember this one, actually.  I remarked on this one even back when I first watched]  Ooooooof

OOOOOF

I LOVE THIS COP  [Also, he couldn't get Holmes to focus unless he confirmed Watson was alive elkasdjf;lkdsajf]

I KNOWWWW  😭😭😭

Ack bitchy lady lol

Run, Sherlock!  She’s onto you!  [She's actually being frustratingly not bad, ngl]  Hmmmph.  She just has a bitchy face, though.  Like, she squints menacingly when she talks.

[But also.  Buddy obsessing over the case because Now It's Personal]  I KNOWWW 😭😭☹️

[Bruh, it's Howl's Moving Castle.  House boutta move]  Now he has to eat a star

Sir.  [...]  Well, then.  [Cas: “You look terrible.”  Dean: “You know, it wouldn’t kill you to lie every now and again” vs. Watson: “You look gorgeous”  Sherlock: “Somehow, I knew you wouldn’t leave.”  It’s the same scene.]  😭😭😭😭

A snek

I keep wondering why he keeps talking like this. (Like oh he’s being funny) but no. No that’s just how they talk ☠️☠️☠️☠️  [Yup]

‘Ello, ‘ello, ‘ello  [I've heard that somewhere before]  I think the new angel in GOmens watched Sherlock Holmes  [THAT'S WHERE]

Oh shit

[HOLMES GOT TO PICK ANOTHER LOCK]  You go buddy!

😂😂😂😂  He said soldier boy

[He.  he did not get to pick the lock apparently]  Oh noooo  [He had the key]  For shame

Shoot him.  Now please

[I love her vestttttt]

Oop- Lorge guy is back

[Teamwork makes the dreamwork]  😂😂😂

This man and just easily breaking bonesss

“Course I can.” Buddy. He is quite big. You sure

We know, John, we know.

Noooooo.  Nope.  That’s where I forfeit the deal I had with scary mystery man.  Fuck that.

Ooooooof  [A fitting irony, that]  Right?!

[This is a cliffhanger for the second film, btw.  Which we should watch... tomorrow]  YESSS

AWWW he’s leaving  [:(]  Poor Sherlock

[BRUH HE GAVE-  HE GAVE IRENE'S PENDANT TO HIS BEST BRO BUD FOR AN ENGAGEMENT RING?]  Le gasp

Wot.  WOT.  ["MY TONGUE IS GOING; I'LL BE NO USE TO YOU AT ALL"  CONTEXT?  WHAT CONTEXT?]  ☠️☠️☠️

["Our dog"]

Oooop. We’re there.  Being able to control anything with the touch of a button?  It’s the future.

– – – 

Jezebel: AHHHH!  New ship unlocked!  Well, it was already unlocked, but now it’s fully activated

Wench: Congratulations, my dear :)

Jezebel: Ok so movie end point... as was expected I love it and I definitely want to watch the second tomorrow 😁😁😁😁 I loveeeee RDJ so I figured I would too! 😂😂 but like my husband said when I asked, there’s not many movies I don’t like.  I’m very easily pleased lol.

Wench: We’ll have to do it tomorrow, then, after my work’s done :)

Jezebel: Hmpppphhh Maryyyy 😤😤 and I don’t even really have a reason to not like her minus her name is just attached to bitchy women… ok, that’s a lie, she’s bitchy too! 😂😂😂😂  Not, like, god awful.  But.. it’s the eyes

Wench: Ma'am!  Problem child.

Jezebel: But aside from all this. The main reason we are here… Sherlock and Watson… are…  Welp they are in love obviously.  Like. Duh.  You do not act like that with just a friend.  I see what the hype is about and if the blatant chemistry- er- “subtext” is there in the show too. Then yeahhhhh it just is not deniable

Wench: I.  May have just tuned out, my deepest apologies.  I got distracted.  By The Musketeers.  I’m making you watch it.  BUT.  Anyway… fair!  And other movie thoughts?  (I don't really have much to add... I've seen it before enough that it's just kinda.  There. Also, is hella late and my brain be unhelpful rn.)

Jezebel: I 👀 I can’t think of any.

Wench: Ma'am, you condensed the entire plot to the ship and bitchiness

Jezebel: Welp…. Help! Ask me about something cause my mind is panic erasing as we speak

Wench: … The bad guy?  The plot?  The acting?  literally anything??????

Jezebel: Okayyyy!  So The bad guy looks just fucking like Stanley Tucci! But it’s not and as soon as I saw who he was I remembered in another movie he is in I thought he was Stanley Tucci again lol. But this guy actually has been in a lot more big movies!  

Wench: alskdfj

Jezebel: The acting? Ma’am! How dare you! The acting was :Chef_Kiss: spectacular. Period. 😂

Wench: Hmph.  You said to ask stuff.  It's not like you'd answered that before.

Jezebel: The plot. To be honest I kept getting lost in them flirting and then trying to get my thumbs to type fast enough I was confused for a bit about what was even happening in the plot. Past there’s a bad guy who was executed but didn’t die, or maybe he did but then came back they don’t know. And he is killing people ☠️☠️ but I got it all now! 😂😂

Wench: …

Jezebel: Shush!  I gotta say tho… I love movies set in the past that have like some hyper advanced technology. That’s so simple to us now!

Wench: Yeah, that’s fair :) 

Jezebel: And… Okay, now idk what else to say 😭😭

Wench: Nor I; perks of me running on very little sleep… This has been the most boring Wench half of the reaction in the history of Wench and Jezebel, but it's fineeeee.  

Jezebel: 😂😂😂😂

Wench: It'll pick up for tomorrow... Sequel then?

Jezebel: YES!

Wench: Aight… til then :)

[storytellingdreamer]

Watching Granada Holmes: The Abbey Grange

After a longer than usual break thanks to the holidays, I’m back to doing my recaps! See my other recaps via my watching granada holmes tag. 

A fun meta note is that this episode was actually the first one that Brett and Hardwicke did together (so they could get a feel for working together before Empty House). 

This episode has something of a circular narrative, in that the events we’re told about the first half of the story are revisited later with new information added that puts them in a new light. Therefore my review isn’t exactly a linear retelling. 

The story also bears a strong resemblance to The Crooked Man - a similar plot with different character backstories and a slightly more active heroine (though her silence is still a key point of the narrative). 

As for themes, this episode is one for the High Stakes Deductions category, as well as being a Woman In Need one - albeit reluctantly, due to the lady in question’s mingled fear, protectiveness, and learned helplessness. This episode deals with the lack of options women faced in those times when in unhappy marriages. It also deals with domestic abuse and alcoholism. 

However, it has a love plot that is very sweet. Initially I was a bit put off by it because I didn’t catch all the details, but once I viewed it through the right lens, it’s a lovely brightness in an otherwise heavy episode. 

Onto the story proper. To begin, we have a slightly different opening scene. 

It starts after the murder has been discovered, instead of just before it), in which we see that the Granada team seem to be more willing to show the bloody parts of the dead body this time around, too - the camera angles are less discreet. I don’t know if I like it.

From there, it’s a quick jump to Holmes and Watson - another instance of Holmes waking Watson up for a case at what are, to them, rather early hours. 

Watson’s pocket watch reads 06:45 AM, I believe. Usually Holmes and Watson are not early risers (see Letters from Watson discussion of this week).

It’s a delightful scene of Holmes being Dramatic for fun - and I giggle at the fact that he knows to double back into the bedroom after leaving, just as Watson flops down into bed again. 

Making sure that Watson doesn’t go back to sleep, no doubt.

After that we have more Holmes and Watson Togetherness - another delightful train scene.

Holmes reads the letter aloud to Watson, as Watson prepares to take notes. 

They discuss what they know of the case - note the back-and-forth between them; they are partners in the Work, and it shows.

Even with a bit of playful bickering about Watson’s stories.

Finally we get to the case proper, in all its complexity. 

Holmes and Watson are told one narrative by the first guest protagonist, Lady Mary Brackenstall. 

They spend most of the rest of the episode figuring out the real tale, and the longer they take to uncover the truth, the more Holmes wonders if uncovering it will do more harm than good. 

Is it any wonder that by the time the second guest protagonist, Captain Jack Crocker, fills in the blanks for them, Holmes is very easily able to decide to take matters into his own hands?

There are some delightful case moments scattered throughout the episode. For example: 

Holmes examining the crime scene, and asking Watson to look at the carpet while he studies the rope; then sprawling on the floor when Watson finds a clue. You can see him envisioning the scene as he speaks.

Holmes’s discovery of the gravestone for the poor dog - his “What’s this?” turning a general look around into something more pointed. (Even the music says so - delightful!)

The bit about the log that hadn’t moved. 

The bit afterwards where Holmes climbs all over the mantelpiece around the fire. Being as careful as he can with his own safety whie ensuring he collects all the evidence he needs. 

Also, the bit at the end where Holmes confronts Crocker in the sitting room of 221b: “be frank with me and we may do some good. Play tricks with me - and I’ll crush you.” Crocker is taller than him. And yet. 

The bit where Holmes begs Lady Mary to let him into his confidence is agonising. When she won’t tell him, Holmes takes his leave and finds out the truth through other means. 

It feels like a missed opportunity - and I think it is meant to. 

Mary refuses to speak for herself (or in defence of others) more than her initial first interview (which seems to be a practiced speech, with how poised most of it was). Her silence is her defence. 

But that is a hindrance where Holmes is concerned. In the original canon, she’s written out of the story after this, with others speaking for her. Here, she fares a little better. 

But it still itches, as it creates yet another instance of a woman’s story being told by men. 

Okay, so. About that love plot. My initial thoughts upon watching the episode were not the most charitable towards pre-incident Crocker. I misinterpreted/ misheard his early narrative as one of pining, and that usually doesn’t end well. 

Pining for someone you’re unlikely to see again, and/or who (you think) sees you just as a friend, usually only leads to heartache and obsessive behaviour that turns stalkerish and can lead to all sorts of bad things. 

Case in point: the villain of The Dancing Men.

However. 

Crocker is actually an extremely kind-hearted man, who only wants the best for Mary. When he thinks she has that - when he thinks she is happily married - he simply resigns himself to never seeing her again. 

Meanwhile, pre-incident Lady Mary is in quite the tough spot. The free-spirited girl of Adelaide has been reduced to a quiet woman who explains away her husband’s “weakness” (initially described as a “quiet shame” of alcoholism, when actually it’s "drunken cruelty” - an ugly temper made worse by drink) as something comparable (and “understandable”) next to her “unsuitable behaviours” as she’s struggled to “adjust” to the stricter social norms of English society. As if the latter was some punishable failing! 

Lady Mary’s explanation of this in the initial interview is an example of her learned helplessness - finding socially acceptable excuses for her husband’s deplorable behaviour by finding fault in her own. :(

Pre-incident Mary has no friends in England save her devoted maid and mother-figure, Theresa. There is no acceptable way out of her marriage; she must put up with the situation, even as it destroys her spirit. 

Is it any wonder her dreams are full of the man who made her feel so happy and hopeful on the boat ride to England, eighteen months previously? 

(We know it was eighteen months ago thanks to a question Holmes asked Hopkins after the first interview.)

Depending on whether the boat was a clipper or a steam ship, the voyage could have taken anywhere from 40-70 days (source). That’s six to ten weeks at sea. Quite a long time, really, in knowing a person. Certainly enough time to fall in love. But because Crocker thought it was all friendship on her side, he said nothing. 

Then, after another 80-140 days (2-4.5 months), at the end of another return voyage from Australia, he discovers his love is married. So, the gentleman that he is, he accepts that. Not even entertaining the thought of seeking her out, despite knowing he’s been billeted close by her new home. 

And then he runs into Mary’s maid Theresa - who provides the news that Mary is not happily married after all. That the marriage is a horror. (That bit about the dog!) 

So he visits her clandestinely (possibly, if I heard correctly, several times - all but the last away from the house, I presume). The final time, he tells her he’s leaving... then, as Mary tries to put a brave face on things, finally admits his love for her. Mary, having just called him “friend”, reproaches him - “Jack,” (no more “Mr Crocker!” - an important distinction!) “Don’t make me say it - it won’t make us any happier.”

And just as Jack Crocker begins to realise what Mary’s true feelings for him are - Sir Eustace interrupts. From there, the stage was set for an ugly finale. 

Fortunately, Holmes has the solution - because Crocker told him the truth. 

In return, one of Holmes’s deductive explanations to Crocker contains the gem: “it was evident she was shielding someone. To do so under such circumstances meant that she must love them.” Then the sweethearts are reunited, with Mary summoned to 221b via telegram, as Holmes is a (not-so-secret) softie. 

This creates a delightful image of Mary and Crocker on one side, with Holmes and Watson on the other. Two pairs. Look at the colour coordination, btw - Crocker and Mary in black with gold or red accents respectively, and Holmes and Watson in grey with black and white or grey and white accents respectively.  I love it. 

After a bit of encouragement, Watson is “jury” to Holmes’s judge, and Crocker and Mary are free to live their life in happiness, once the obligatory social norm of the year-long mourning period for the unlamented Sir Eustace is up, and Crocker returns from the sea. 

This causes Mary to give Holmes a delighted hug of thanks. 

Holmes’s look of Pure Awkwardness is delightful, and lends credence to my Autistic Holmes headcanon that he doesn’t like to be touched except by a select few. (Namely Watson.) 

You could also make something of a queer Holmes headcanon from that scene - e.g. Holmes doesn’t like to be touched in a familiar way by women.

I’m going to leave it there tonight, as I need to get to bed. I will say that the discussion between Holmes and Watson at the end is interesting - another example of Holmes having a Very Particular Idea of what “justice” actually means. One that’s not exactly shared by the courts of the day. Watson is still perturbed by this, but willing to forgive him, because Holmes is “unique”. 

I leave you with the delightful end frame: 

[Image description: Watson and Holmes in their armchairs in front of an unlit fire, lamps lit, sipping their drinks.] 

it puts me in mind of a certain poem. 

[hechiima]

Finished the second movie. I can't be normal about this.

It's just the whole movie just drives home how deeply Holmes love Watson. Holmes is still inconsiderate and an ass (see: forgetting Watson's bachelor party) but he works so hard to protect Watson through the whole movie when it matters. He gets Watson to his wedding even though he desperately doesn't want this b/c it's what Watson wants. He asks Moriarty to leave Watson and Mary alone once Watson's married. He goes after them when it's obvious that Moriarty is determined to kill them, spends so much of the movie trying to protect Watson, and at the end, he makes it apparent that he's willing to die to keep Watson safe.

But also the movie does such a good job showing that Holmes trusts Watson entirely? We see it when Holmes gets "caught" by Moriarty and only leaves Watson with a drawing of a tower (which Watson promptly blows up). We see it in the dance scene where Holmes realizes this might be goodbye and leaves Watson with "I taught you well". And then the climax where Holmes leaves the assassin to Watson and goes after Moriarty drives that point home. Holmes doesn't HAVE to go after Moriarty here - he's already got Moriarty's notebook so he could have stayed in the party and made sure the assassin was caught. But he doesn't do that. He knows he can leave that to Watson and sure enough we see Watson doing exactly what Holmes would have done b/c Watson is his equal and his partner and Holmes knows that.

And this makes the confrontation with Moriarty/switching b/w the events of the chess match to the foiled assassination so satisfying. Moriarty considers Watson below his/Holmes' intellect. He genuinely doesn't understand that Watson is so much more than that to Holmes and I don't think he fully appreciates that Holmes views Watson as his equal until the confrontation. And the fact that Holmes' faith is rewarded while Moriarty is so smug that he had a correct read on Watson is just. Chef's kiss. Wonderful. Amazing.

The movie tells a solid mystery but realizes that the heart of its story is the relationship b/w Holmes and Watson. And it does such a good job showing how powerful and trusting their bond is even as they're bickering and being total assholes to each other ough. 15/10 where is the third movie i am begging PLeAsE. ;A;

Watching the 2009 rdj Sherlock Holmes movies with friends tonight I am Committing to regressing let's gOoooooOoo

[anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek]

WRONG PERSON (Mycroft x Reader)

Masterlist

(A/n: I'm very new to this, I'm sorry if Mycroft is a bit OOC)

Tags: @flynnsonlyfans @sourgrapes-aa @eggzandshit

When I opened my eyes, I saw two blurry figures whisper shouting at each other. I blinked a few times to clear my vision and saw a tall curly-headed man wearing a violet dress shirt and black trousers and a slightly shorter blond man wearing a beige jumper and jeans. I woke up to the voices of two people shouting, and I discovered that my hands are tied together and my feet are tied to a chair. I also discovered that I have a terrible headache.

Since they were unaware that I was awake, I overheard some of their conversations. The blond man said, "It's not a great idea to abduct a possible lover of the most dangerous man, Sherlock!" and the man with the curly hair replied, "They're not a possible lover of Moriarty, they are his lover," Sherlock added, "Why else would he bother hiding all their information?"

"Who's Moriarty?" I asked to catch their attention, they turned to me startled "you don't know Moriarty?" the blond man asked, I nodded my head no "Sherlock, they don't know who Moriarty is! we abducted the wrong person! have you lost your mind?!!" the blond man whisper shouted, sherlock looked at me in confusion "if they aren't Moriarty's lover then why are their information hidden so well?" he said,

"They're not the consulting criminal's lover because they're mine, dear brother," someone interrupted. I turned to the door and saw Mycroft the man I've been dating for 6 months, dressed in my favourite navy blue suit

"How did I miss this?" sherlock wondered.

"You're dating Mycroft?" the blond man asked, and I just nodded yes in annoyance.

"Why is that so perplexing to you, Dr Watson?" Mycroft inquired.

"Can y'all stop talking about who's dating who for a second and untie me?" I asked sardonically. 

"It's not fun being tied to a chair, especially if you have a splitting headache," I added. Dr Watson apologized and went to untie me.

"Thank you," I said, rubbing my wrist as I noticed the two Holmes brothers arguing. "Are they always like this?" I inquired, "every now and then yes," he replied, turning to the Holmes brothers, and I nodded in response.

I took a deep breath and whistled loudly with my index and pointer finger to get the boys' attention. "Are you children done yet?" I hissed, and the Holmes brothers abruptly stopped bickering. John then turned to me impressed "how did you do that?" He whispered to me, I just shrugged

Sherlock then suddenly looks at me and Mycroft rolling his eyes at what antics his brother is about to do, "He's gonna do "the tell your story in one glance" at me isn't he?" I whispered to John, and John nodded in response

"computer engineer, has a very low self-esteem, not in a good relationship with their family, intellectual-" sherlock started "Brilliant" Mycroft interrupted "what?" Sherlock asked "their intelligence is brilliant" Mycroft stated, I blushed at his word

Sherlock remarked, "very clumsy person showing by their fresh papercut on their hand, and a bruise on their elbow, has a pet dog." I laughed at his last remark, and he looked at me perplexed. "I don't have a pet dog, Sherlock, I always pet the neighbours' dog whenever I pass by it. And beside Mycroft won't let me have one," I murmur the last part

Because Y/n can cook and bake, Sherlock added a side comment about Mycroft's weight, and Mycroft added a deduction about his beloved. Sherlock then continued his deduction.

"I must say brother mine they're a keeper, are you sure you didn't pay them to date you," I threw the nearest item I first had, a pillow, and hit him in the head; he then looked at me bewildered, John laughed and Mycroft snickered, "what was that for?" Sherlock asked, throwing the pillow back to the couch, "but nice aim," Sherlock said with a smirk.

"I approve of them, Mycroft,  they seem to have the patience to handle your mood swings and iceman persona, at least because they're here you won't be bothering me," Sherlock said 

"I've never needed your permission for my personal matters, brother mine," Mycroft said as he approached my side and examined my wrist, as well as the previously mentioned papercut and elbow bruises.

 "yes, however, you may use my judgement as you see fit. both of you."Sherlock said then told me all of Mycroft's flaws such as his weight's insecurities and the way he uses his position in the government to spy on people, "are you done, Brother Mine?" Mycroft interrupts Sherlock's story about a person at Bart's that dated the dangerous man that he thought I was dating

"if you don't mind, we will be off," Mycroft said picking up my coat and helping me wear it and picking up my bag that was on the couch, I said my farewell to Sherlock and John and went downstairs with Mycroft

Mycroft opened the door for me and help get in the car, he went inside on the other side and then tap the window 3 times to signify the driver to start the vehicle

I was contemplating what Sherlock had said as I stared out the window when I felt a hand on my knee. I turned to see Mycroft and he was already looking at me. I smiled at him and entwined our fingers together, and he squeezed them and smiled back. I sat closer to him and lay my head on his shoulder and slowly fell asleep as he kissed my head.

[teatitty]

Title/Link: Rumour Has It Rating: Teen Pairing: Holmes & Watson (pre-relationship) Additional Tags: Watson Feels, Friendly Bickering, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Watson Being a Gossiper, Holmes’ usual lack of boundaries Word Count: 5.5K

Summary/Preview:  “There’s a dead man in the house, you see,” Lestrade continues as if he hadn’t heard Watson at all. “One Thomas Hadgerly -”

“Hardgley,” Watson corrects, and then, before he can stop himself, adds: “He’s a well-known adulterer who favours milkmaids and busty cooks. The window was broken days ago.” It’s hardly a surprise when Holmes takes his arm again and bodily drags him back to the house. Idly, he wonders if this is to become a habit.

A/N: Hi yes I have no idea where this fic ended up I swear it started as an actual case fic and then took a sharp left into Watson feels. Whoops

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hey Steph! I've recently read 'How to sleep with your enemy in one semester' and I was wondering if you had some Johnlock Enemies to Lovers ;) thanks!

Hey Nonny!!

First, the fic:

How to Sleep with Your Enemy in One Semester by 221b_careful_what_you_wish_for (M, 9,699 w., 6 Ch. || College / University Professor AU || Enemies to Lovers, Rivalry, Bickering, Office Sex, Blow Jobs, Domestic Fluff, Christmas, John's Beard, Humour, Idiots in Love) – Visiting professors John Watson and Sherlock Holmes are longtime academic rivals — and now unwilling office mates — at a prestigious American university. When their tense arguments give way to an undercurrent of mutual attraction, their war of wits turns into something more personal — until it goes off course. A party, a phone number, and deserted office at night might just bring them back together. (TRANSLATIONS: Español)

------

Secondly, I do have some lists you might like:

Friends to Lovers [FULL POST] || [MOBILE POST]

Friends to Lovers Pt. 2

Enemies to Friends to Lovers

Also Kind of in the same genre, but not really, I think you'll llike this one:

Love or What You Will by miss_frankenstein (T, 31,987 w., 11 Ch. || College/Uni AU || Professor John, Ph.D Student Sherlock, Pining John, Poetry, Falling in Love / Slow Burn, Light Angst, Happy Ending) – John is an English professor who specializes in War and Post-War Literature and Sherlock is the brilliant yet impossible Ph.D. student assigned to be his TA because no one in the Chemistry Department is willing to put up with him. And - somewhere between Waugh and Plath, e-mails and takeaway, novels and villanelles - they fall in love.

AND my Teacher AU Fic List <3

Finally, if anyone has more to suggest, please do!

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (June 24-25/2021) - Cow Quackity / S.U.S. Toll Company

After Quackity turns into a cow and Wilbur eats him on Bad’s chill stream, the two make a hit song together.

Later, George joins in and things become even more chaotic.

The next day, while working on “L’Wallburg” to compete with Bad’s apartment in the same area, Foolish has the idea to join forces with Bad instead of competing all the time. The two get together with Ponk to create their new tollbooth company: 

Super Umbrella Scheme

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VOD LINKS:

Ponk

Foolish

BadBoyHalo

-

Foolish

Captain Puffy

[Foolish’s second VOD was deleted]

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JUNE 24

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- Ponk, dressed up as Robin, notices Sam AFK by the bank. They try to get some Pillagers to attack Sam, but it doesn’t work

- Instead, Ponk pushes Sam into the spider spawner, then releases the spiders and watches Sam get eaten alive

- With Sam dead, Ponk puts his things in a chest and takes the Netherite set, leaving everything else. He goes to hide it

- Later, Ponk meets Foolish at the Community House as Robin and Batman. They go down into the basement to discuss. They may need new identities. Their crime-fighting days are over

- Ponk tells him that they are going to be Sherlock Holmes and Watson. That’s the extent of the report, so the two of them part ways

- Back at the valley, Ponk puts up a giant Foolsamponk picture and a photo of a rice cooker

- Bad and Wilbur log on. Bad notices a new structure built where the L’Sandburg tollgate used to be and wonders who’s behind it. Bad has been building up L’Sandburg’s walls in the meantime

- As Bad searches around for Wilbur in Las Nevadas, Quackity joins VC and gets a cow as a stand-in. Bad spots Wilbur nearby

- Bad tells Wilbur that the cow is Quackity and puts a leash on him, explaining that a witch turned him into one similar to how George was turned into a pig

- Wilbur asks where he can find food around here, and Bad tells him he can kill the cows in the pen. Bad tries to explain to Quackity how he is a cow. Wilbur asks Bad to tell Quackity that Wilbur wants to eat him

- Wilbur sets Quackity on fire, but Bad puts him out with water. Wilbur says Quackity looks tasty. Bad throws him bread and steak, but Wilbur refuses

Wilbur: not as succulent as him

- Bad leads Quackity over to the Eiffel Tower away from Wilbur. Wilbur opens Bad’s stream to find them

- Wilbur joins VC and Quackity asks if it’s true that Wilbur wants to eat him. They start discussing lactose intolerance

- Wilbur sets off TNT, then lights cow Quackity on fire. Bad is unable to save him and the Quackity cow drops a piece of steak. Wilbur asks for the meat 

- Meanwhile, Quackity as a human has come over to Las Nevadas. They set off more TNT

- Wilbur holds a piece of steak and munches on it, telling Quackity that it’s his meat. Quackity asks how he tastes and Wilbur begins describing it in great detail

- Quackity asks him to describe the texture and Wilbur does, again, in great detail. (I'm not going to transcribe this)

- Wilbur then walks over to DogChamp, saying he would kill the dog for another bite. They quickly stop him. Wilbur tells Bad to get him more Quackity meat. He then turns to Quackity and tells him to turn into a cow so that Wilbur can cook him up and eat his meat

- Quackity goes over to the cow pen to be with the other cows so that he can become one and starts mooing

- Wilbur kills another cow. Quackity has taken off his clothes and continues mooing

- Wilbur takes the initiative to end the bit

- They swim over to Eret’s pyramid with Wilbur repeating everything Quackity says in an American accent. They discuss what animal Wilbur would be. Perhaps a sheep. Bad finds a cod in the ocean and decides on that

- They go up to Ponk’s base and look at the photos. They notice that Sam is crossed out in one of them but don’t know why

Quackity: “Do you wanna have sex in this room?”

- Bad goes to tell him “language” and Quackity scolds him for walking in on them. Wilbur considers it, then mines the floor out from under Quackity, who falls to his death

Quackity: “Is that a yes?”

Wilbur: “I like a man who can take kinetic energy.”

- Bad gets a crossbow. Quackity has an announcement: the wine stream is still happening!

- Quackity gets back to the pyramid and falls to his death again. While they retrieve his items, they chat about fan interactions

- Quackity wants to adopt the dog that played Beethoven in the Beethoven movie and Wilbur breaks the news to him that the dog is probably dead. Quackity doesn’t want Tom Arnold on a leash, and they find out that during the filming the filmmakers apparently used a “mechanical dog-dog suit”

- Wilbur explores the Beethoven fandom Wiki

- They talk about music they’ve been working on. Bad says if Quackity keeps swearing, he will “break out the hammer”

- Quackity shows his recent project. Wilbur says it’s “bloody-muffin-fucking great”

- Wilbur and Quackity work on the song together. The sound is...beyond words

- When they are finished, Quackity says that he thinks Wilbur is giving him too much credit, and he should instead be on the feature list. He wants Wilbur to have this song

- Wilbur declines, saying he would be honored if Quackity didn’t put Wilbur’s name on the song

- Quackity thinks Wilbur should feature it as a Lovejoy song. Wilbur has joined a new band to release the song called “Placeholder,” after which he will immediately disband the band

- Quackity tells him that the song is Wilbur’s baby and he really wants Wilbur to have it. Wilbur tells Quackity that he loves him and that Quackity should have the song. Quackity says he would die for Wilbur, and that Wilbur should have the song

- Wilbur says he will name his firstborn "Quackity,” and he thinks Quackity should have the song. Quackity says he will name all his future family members “Wilbur Soot” (pronounced ‘suit’)

- Wilbur then says he will kill endangered animals for Quackity

Bad: “That’s not something you should do!”

Wilbur: “I will do it for love.”

- Bad asks if he can have the song. Quackity doesn’t say his next bit aloud

- Wilbur understands that Quackity would do that, but he would physically drown for Quackity to have the song

- Quackity says that he will get an astrophysics license, fly a rocket into the moon to get in a national story so that when they find the notepad on his phone, Quackity’s one will would be for Wilbur to have the song and release it under his name without any credit to Quackity

- Wilbur understands this, but says that he would invent a Doomsday device the likes of which the world has never seen and will never see again with which he would hold the world hostage with one message: to tell the world that this song is written solely by Quackity

Wilbur: “That’s what I’d do for you.”

Quackity: “...Okay!”

Wilbur: “Cool, alright, now we’re settled. Hey, Bad, how’re you doing man.”

Bad: “Hi! I’m so perplexed.”

Wilbur: “I’ve got a Doomsday device to make.”

- Bad befriends a pig and names it George. He leads the pig and the red sheep away from Las Nevadas. They continue chatting for a while at the Punzo Chunk

- Later on, George, “master of lore,” joins in 

- Bad shows them the heads he got from DreamXD and offers to trade Karl’s to get Ant’s, Sam’s and Puffy’s from Foolish. Wilbur asks how one gets heads, and Bad tells the story of DreamXD logging on

- Bad gives George his own head and George logs off. Bad offers Karl’s head and George returns, so Bad kills him and gets his head back. George drops a stack of nametags, a stack of TNT and a stack of levers

- Bad repeatedly murders George and sees a squid that flies

- George chases after Quackity trying to kill him with a bone. Quackity runs, setting everything on fire behind him. Bad follows and tries to put everything out. George eventually kills Quackity, then Bad kills George

- Bad accuses George of abusing his op powers to get Netherite armor as George chases him down

- Wilbur sings the Drake and Josh theme song in an American accent while George attempts to murder Bad in a pit

- George accuses Bad of turning the server off, but Bad says it’s a scheduled restart

- George kicks them from the server and un-whitelists them both

- Quackity gets back on and slays George

- The three of them continue to spar some more for fun

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JUNE 25

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- While Foolish works on building a room by the Punzo Chunk to compete with Bad’s, Bad logs on and drops by

- Bad tells him he’s building in Bad’s apartment. Foolish tells him he’s just making L’Wallburg

- Bad says he will charge Foolish rent to live here, but Foolish declines

- They argue back and forth about whose place it is as they work on the walls

- Foolish has the idea to join forces

Foolish: Bad what if we are landlords together

Bad: o_o

Foolish: we have been fighting for afar too long

Foolish: What if we put are talkents togerth

Bad: o_o

- Bad says he’s charging rent. Foolish asks what if he charges Bad rent. They argue about charging rent on each other

- Bad charges Foolish 850 diamonds. Foolish tells him that Bad has been on his property for five minutes, which means he must pay 9,000 diamonds

- Again, Foolish suggests they instead work together. Bad brings up the idea of taking over a central location like the community Nether portal that they can charge people for. Foolish likes the idea

- They work on the apartment some more and start bickering over who’s caused more problems in their rivalry. Foolish attempts to explain it metaphorically

Foolish: “There was once a shiny rock, okay? And this shiny rock was just trying to go to the ocean and have a good time and lay there in peace. But then, this crusty old seaweed came along to the seashore and just got up all in the shiny rock’s business. And then the shiny rock became a little more dull with the weight of death looming, Bad.”

- Bad takes offense to this and also claims that he made Foolish’s build much better by adding a tollgate to it

- They negotiate percentages of the profits and head off to the Nether portal. Foolish asks if Bad has a suit. Bad replies that not only does he look very dashing already, but the last time he wore a suit, he tried to kill a lot of people

- Foolish suggests they call it the Ratgate. They wall off the portal

- While visiting the summer home, Foolish finds out about the new building on the path. The two suspect a third party may be at play

- Foolish tells Bad about how they have a tollgate set up in Las Nevadas. Bad is offended that Foolish made him take down his tollgate but set one up elsewhere. They start arguing again over who had rightful claim to the path

- They admire their work on the new tollbooth. If people don’t pay the toll, they die

- They rehearse it. Foolish switches personas and becomes a L’manburg Llama who asks Bad where L’manburg is -- he heard they needed his help a few months ago

- Foolish critiques Bad’s performance, as Bad didn’t ask for the toll. Bad said he still got something out of it -- a nice compliment

- They rehearse it a second time, this time with Foolish as Palpatine. It ends with Bad attempting to kill him

- As they discuss how the second rehearsal went, Ponk logs on and walks through the portal while they’re distracted

- They go through after him to seek him down. If they let him get away, they would be the laughing stock of the tolling community. Foolish wonders if they’re dealing with Ponk or Robin

- They find her at the summer home. Ponk runs into his shack and they knock on the door

- Ponk comes out of the shack and they tell him that they’re vacuum salesmen. Once inside the shack, they confront him about the toll

- Ponk doesn’t buy their claims and they go back to the tollbooth. They tell them to pay with compliments

- Ponk retrieves a book from his Ender Chest and goes up one of the tollbooth towers to place a piece of TNT. He tells them that he has claimed the tower

- Ponk starts running, placing TNT all over while the two chase after to attack

- After “the Battle of the Nether Portal” subsides, Ponk gives them the compliments

Ponk: “Bad, is your nickname ‘Google?’ Because you’re all I’m searching for.”

...

Ponk: “Did you get your suit at Dollar General, Foolish?”

- Because Foolish takes some offense to this, Ponk throws him some Netherite ingots. Bad wants that compliment

- Ponk and Bad go up into Ponk’s tower to whisper amongst themselves. Ponk is going to record this and use it as part of the lore suit against Bad. Bad already has ten lawyers

- They go back down and Ponk tells Foolish that Bad said the toll doesn’t have to be paid. Bad is confused, and Foolish pulls Bad aside for a meeting behind a wall of TNT to whisper amongst themselves

- Foolish points out that they could use a third person for the tolling business, and Ponk’s the most trustworthy person Foolish knows

- They go back to Ponk with the business proposal. Foolish says if Ponk makes enough money, they’ll give Ponk a Supreme car at the end of the year

- Ponk becomes sad at this, because Bad destroyed the Supreme Fridge and that’s why Ponk is suing him and Puffy

- Bad says that Foolish allowed them to demolish it. Foolish quickly denies this, but Bad claims he has a written document signed by Foolish. Upset, Ponk asks if this is true. Bad says Puffy has it

- Ponk isn’t sure who to believe anymore

- After they spot Bad lurking beneath the rainbow, they hold him at knifepoint asking for his pot of gold

- Foolish suggests the three of them forget everything that’s happened and just run their tollbooth together. Ponk proposes they tear down Bad’s house instead

- As they explain a potential plot to toll everyone further, though, Ponk starts to come around to the idea. Foolish wonders if they should toll the prison. Bad says they should toll everything

- The next place they decide to toll is the Community House, and they start setting up gateways there. Foolish asks Bad who he would hypothetically be in an alternate Batman universe. Bad would be Alfred

- They decide on a name for their tollbooth company: 

“Super Umbrella Scheme,” or S.U.S. 

- They do another rehearsal at the Community House gate. It goes very well

- They go to the spider spawner. Bad has to leave, and Ponk speaks with Foolish one-on-one, leading him down the tunnel to the Eggpire cloak room to search through the chests. Foolish hesitantly peeks around the corner into the Egg Room...

- Ponk tells him they’ve got their next disguises as Watson and Holmes. Sam has mentioned that he’s missing a sword and wants to hire them to find it

- With that said, they say their goodbyes and leave

---

Upcoming events remain the same.

[fanfic-she-wrote]

Love Disguised

Sherlock Holmes x reader

Reader confesses her love to Sherlock while he's wearing a disguise.

No warnings

It had been well over a week since Sherlock Holmes went out to solve a very secret case. A case so secret that he couldn't even divulge any of it's details to you or even Watson leaving you both feeling very restless and nervous for the well being of your friend.

Quietly, you sat in a chair by the window overlooking the busy street below watching all the people walk by going about their day while all you could do was sit there worrying about Sherlock.

"Would you like some tea, dear?" Mrs. Hudson asked before leaving the room, carrying a broom and a duster in her hands.

"No thanks, Mrs. Hudson." You replied with a sigh.

She gave you a small smile and said, "Don't worry. He'll be back soon." By the tone in her voice you could tell she was worried too. You gave her a nod and turned back to the window.

"I hope so." You whispered to yourself, leaning your head against the chair as you heard the door open and the sound of Mrs. Hudson's footsteps against the wood floor as she left the room, shutting the door behind her as she went. Out in the hall you heard two voices, one belonging to Mrs. Hudson and the other you presumed was Watson's.

"How is she doing?" Watson asked in a hushed tone so you wouldn't hear him.

"Not very well. Just sitting there staring out the window looking like a lost puppy. Poor thing." Mrs. Hudson answered, shaking her head.

"She's probably worried about Sherlock, like the rest of us." Watson surmised.

"Worried yes, but I think also lonely." Mrs. Hudson pointed out, staring at the door.

"Lonely? What do you mean? I've been here." He asked, pointing to himself. Shooting him a look, Watson quickly understood what she meant.

"Oh..oh!" He murmured, feeling slightly awkward. With a cough he asked, "What shall we do about it?"

She shrugged. "Unless Mr. Holmes comes back, I don't think there is anything we can do." Her voice sounding pitiful as she turned a went down the stairs.

You were so lost in thought that you hadn't even noticed Watson enter the room till he announced it.

"Oh, hello Doctor Watson." You greeted him, forcing a smile. "Any news of Sherlock?" You asked, sitting forward.

"None yet I'm afraid." He answered, taking off his coat.

"I'm sure he'll be back soon. He's done this before you know." He assured you, lighting up a cigar. You sighed once more and sat back in the chair, feeling disappointed. Watson watched you for a moment feeling bad for you, realizing that what Mrs. Hudson said was true. You looked utterly lost without Sherlock.

He walked over to you and patted you gently on the shoulder. "If there's anything I can do, let me know."

"Thank you." You said, giving him an appreciative smile. "I'm sorry I haven't been myself. I just...miss him." You admitted.

"I know, my dear. I know."

A little while later just as you began to doze off there was a sudden knock at the door. "I'll get it!" You shouted, getting up from the chair and heading towards the door. When you opened it a tall, slender man stood there with a great bushy mustache and big nose that he apparently tried to hide underneath a wad of bushy hair that dangled in his face, giving him the appreance of a sheep dog.

"Good evening, Miss! Is Sherlock Holmes at home?" He asked with a sniff.

"No, I'm sorry." You answered.

"We'll, I'm Hebert Yaxley, I had an appointment with him. Could I perhaps speak to Doctor Watson instead?"

"Of course." You said, stepping aside to let the old gentleman in.

"I'll go get him. Wait here please." You told him, disappearing down the hall. Yaxley chuckled quietly to himself, rubbing his hands together. Except his name wasn't Yaxley and he did not have an appointment with Sherlock Holmes, or rather he was Sherlock Holmes in disguise. And what a joke it was going to be when he finally revealed himself.

Once you woke up Watson from his nap you returned to the living room where you found Yaxley sitting quietly at the table.

"He'll be right with you, sir." You told him, giving him a polite smile.

"Now who might you be? Are you Mr. Holmes's sister?" He asked you, looking up at you from under his messy locks of hair.

"No, sir." You answered, shaking your head.

"Ah, then you must be his wife!" Surely, that would get a good reaction out of you. You and Sherlock often bickered playfully with eachother and when Watson would comment that you sounded like an old couple you would get irritated and insist that you didn't. Usually saying something like, "That's just not possible. I don't think I would live to see old age married to Sherlock Holmes." Of course you didn't actually mean it. Sometimes he would say something about you too. That's just how it was and you loved it.

Instead you reacted differently, with a blush looking down at your feet. "Uh...no." You replied, biting your lip. "I'm just his friend." You said this with such a sadness in your voice that it puzzled him.

"You don't like Sherlock Holmes, my dear?" He questioned you further, leaning forward.

"Oh, yes I do! It's just that...I..." You stuttered, playing with your necklace. "It's just that...I would like to be more than friends." You finally blurted out.

Sherlock sat there surprised, unable to say anything. Oh no. What had he done? This wasn't what he had planned at all. He thought if anything you might have picked up on this little charade by now. You were always so perceptive. That's one of the things he liked most about you.

"And now I don't even know if I'll be able to tell him." You confessed, your eyes becoming watery. Sherlock rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly, not knowing what to do. Maybe it was wrong of him to leave on a case like he did and not tell you anything. He hadn't realized how much of an affect it had on you till now.

"I'm sorry. I shouldnt be bothering you with my problems. You don't even know me." You apologized, wiping your eyes, feeling silly. Normally you weren't the type to get emotional, but you couldn't help it. You had to know about Sherlock.

"It's quite all right. Maybe I should come back another time?" He said, getting up from the chair. Just as he was about to leave, Watson emerged from his room. He stood there for a moment staring at the man at the table. If he didn't know any better it looked like it could be one of Sherlock's disguises.

"Everything all right?" Watson asked walking over to you, noticing that you were upset.

"I'm fine. Excuse me." You said, quickly leaving the room retreating to your own quarters, feeling rather embarrassed. Once Watson heard you shut your door he turned to Sherlock.

"Holmes?" He asked, leaning close to him.

No longer in a mood to continue, he pulled off his mustache and wig. "Yes, it's me." He replied.

"Thank heavens! Do you know how worried Y/N and I have been? Even poor Mrs. Hudson!" He exclaimed, sounding irate.

"I think I know now." Sherlock answered, taking off the rest of his disguise.

"What do you mean?" Watson asked, following him.

"Watson? Do you think...is it possible that Y/N might have feelings for me?" He asked, unsure.

Watson scoffed. "It took you this long to figure that out?!" Had it been that obvious? He was the world's greatest detective. How did he not see that you were in love with him?

"What do I do?" He asked turning to the older man looking confused, and maybe even a little afraid. He had never been in this situation before.

"Well, it depends. How do you feel about her?" He asked.

He stood there for a moment staring towards your door deep in thought. He did rather enjoy your company. Especially when you hummed along to the songs he played on his violin or the times he found you in his bathrobe because you couldn't find yours. Even when you crinkled your nose in disgust at the smell of his pipe. How cute he thought it was...

"Sherlock!" You gasped in the doorway of your room, suddenly snapping him back to reality. "You're back!"

You went to run into his arms, but stopped yourself, offering your hand instead. Sherlock stared at it not sure what to do. Should he accept it or hug you? You seemed to want to do the latter or did he misread that entirely?

Behind him Watson gave him a little nudge. For once, Sherlock didn't know what to say. His lips parted, but no words came out. 

"I missed you." You finally said breaking the silence. He could only smile at you, taking your hand in his. For a long moment, you stood there staring into each other's eyes.

Watson shuffled back and forth on the balls of his feet impatiently, waiting to see what was going to happen.

Suddenly, Sherlock wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a hug. You blinked, feeling confused. He had never hugged you before and you didn't quite know how to react.

"I missed you too." He told you softly.

Your heart skipped a beat. "You did?" You asked as you hugged him back, resting your head on his shoulder, and closing your eyes, enjoying the warmth of having his arms around you.

"Mhm." He answered, nodding his head as he gently stroked his hand over your silky hair. A little flutter inside your heart urged you to kiss him, but you resisted. Maybe this was just a friendly hug? It didn't really feel like it. You thought.

"Sherlock?" You breathed, pulling away.

"Yes?" He asked, looking down at you as you gently caressed his cheek.

You looked so beautiful. He thought, tilting his head into your palm. You skin was so soft and warm against his. He had seen this look before, only on those who were truly in love. It was in your eyes, how they twinkled in the soft candlelight like stars in the night. Was this how he was looking at you now? He wondered.

Sherlock's heart began to race as your faces drew closer and closer together, your lips mere inches apart. He stood there frozen for a moment, his eyes half lidded as you placed a delicate kiss upon his lips. He felt his face become hot, a noticable blush forming on his face as your lips lingered for a few more seconds. When you went to pull away he suddenly wrapped his hand around your nape and pulled you closer, kissing you back. He didn't want to stop kissing you. He couldn't describe what he was feeling, except that it felt right. Through all the moments you shared, this, he realized was love.

Watson chuckled, feeling satisfied. Finally! He thought. Wait till he told Mrs. Hudson about this...

[mediaevalmusereads]

The Alienist. By Caleb Carr. New York: Random House, 1994.

Rating: 4/5 stars

Genre: historical fiction, mystery, suspense

Part of a Series? Yes, The Kreizler Series #1

Summary:   The year is 1896. The city is New York. Newspaper reporter John Schuyler Moore is summoned by his friend Dr. Laszlo Kreizler—a psychologist, or “alienist”—to view the horribly mutilated body of an adolescent boy abandoned on the unfinished Williamsburg Bridge. From there the two embark on a revolutionary effort in criminology: creating a psychological profile of the perpetrator based on the details of his crimes. Their dangerous quest takes them into the tortured past and twisted mind of a murderer who will kill again before their hunt is over.

***Full review under the cut.***

Content Warnings: ableism, homophobia/transphobia, racism (including slurs), sexism, rape, abuse, child abuse and sexual assault, child prostitution, animal cruelty, blood, gore, violence

Overview: This book has been on my TBR list for a while, so I figured I’d finally get around to reading it. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but I was actually surprised by how much I enjoyed the reading experience. Carr writes in a way that pretty closely imitates 19th century detective fiction, and while such a style might not be for everyone, I thought it went a long way in creating atmosphere. My criticisms have mostly to do with pace and the creative decisions that probably didn’t have to be made (such as depictions of child sexual assault, use of slurs, etc), but even with those faults, I have to give Carr’s craft and research a lot of credit, so this book gets 4 stars from me.

Writing: As I mentioned above, this book mimics detective fiction of the 19th century. If you’ve read any of Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes stories, you might get the idea: first person, characters displaying almost whimsical behavior, stuffed with contextual details that may or may not be relevant. At first, I thought the reading experience was going to be a slog, but once I realized what Carr was trying to do, I readjusted my expectations and found the prose to be quite engaging. If you like 19th century literature, you might appreciate what Carr does, but if you find older lit to be a challenge, this book might not be the thriller you’re hoping for.

That being said, I do think there were some areas where Carr could have picked up the pace or even cut some of the contextual details. It’s obvious that Carr did a lot of research before writing this book, and it’s understandable that he would want to show off some of that research, but there were times where I felt like it was a little much.

I also think there are a lot of things in this book that will offend modern sensibilities. I recall at least one use of the N-word (which is spoken by a racist minor character) as well as remarks that make it clear that characters think same-sex intimacy is “deviant” or abhorrent. I can understand why Carr put them in his book; if we’re trying to evoke an atmosphere and make the story feel like it’s set in the 19th century, it’s not realistic to expect everyone to be accepting of gay sex or treat POC with respect. But also, I think it’s on Carr to bear the responsibility of creating plot points and characters that have those attitudes in the first place. The character who uses the N-word could have easily not done so, and characters could have been more clear that their revulsion was at child prostitution rather than same-sex relationships.

Still, I was able to follow the plot with no problem and the sentences flowed in a way that made the reading experience feel quick (no 10-line sentences, thank god). So while there may be some things I would have liked to see adjusted to fit my own tastes, I think Carr did a wonderful job of making me feel like I was reading an older work.

Plot: The plot of this book follows a group of investigators as they try to use psychology to catch a serial killer. As far as being an “original” or unique thriller, this book doesn’t necessarily deliver a plot we haven’t seen before; but what made it so interesting (at least to me) was that it was less interested in the thrill of catching the killer and more interested in thinking through the “whys.” Why did the killer do X? Why did he do Y and Z when he could have done A or B? In this sense, the suspense doesn’t come from the action or the “chase,” but from the building of ideas and a foggy picture becoming more and more clear.

If I can fault Carr for anything, it’s that I think he crafted his mystery around some subjects that are... touchy (for lack of a better word). Most of the murder victims are children - specifically child prostitutes - and a lot of the killer’s motivations are rooted in some combination of racism and exposure to abuse. If you’re looking for a book which handles these issues with sensitivity, I think you’ll be disappointed. But I have to give Carr some credit for not overly sensationalizing these things; for example, while he did include characters who were racist towards Native Americans, he also included characters who were sympathetic and who insisted on not judging tribes for their defensive violence. Not everything is perfect, and there were some moments that made me uncomfortable, but I felt like Carr painted a complex picture of 19th century America, so I was able to keep going.

Characters: The plot of this book is told from the perspective of John Schuyler Moore - a newspaper reporter who teams up with his friend, eminent psychologist Dr. Laszlo Kreizler, to catch a serial killer. As a protagonist, Moore isn’t overly compelling - he’s more like a neutral, blank slate that the reader can project themselves onto. He serves much of the same function as Watson in the Sherlock Holmes stories: to be a witness to other characters’ brilliance while occasionally making some helpful insights. Still, I didn’t outright hate Moore - he was kind and loyal, and I admired how he went out of his way to try to help people.

Kreizler, the psychologist (or “alienist” as they were called in those days), is somewhat of a Sherlockian character in that he’s eccentric, confident, and had abilities that stun the people around him. For the most part, Kreizler was fun to follow. I think the only times I got truly frustrated with him were when he would allude to some knowledge and then leave Moore in the dark - like “aha! This thing is obvious!” “What thing?” “No time to explain! I’ll tell you at dinner!” Those moments were a little irritating.

Sarah, the most prominent female character, was more complex than I expected her to be. She has clear career aspirations and doesn’t let anyone hold her back, and I liked that she was presented as this kick-ass woman who still felt human. She struggles when faced with the horrors of the murder, but she doesn’t let the horror put her off of her task. She’s confident and never seems to have a moment of self-doubt (which is refreshing). She notices interpersonal things without being boxed in as “the woman who notices emotions.” Granted, Sarah does serve some token function - she’s brought on in order to provide a “female perspective,” which was a little frustrating, but she held her own so well that my annoyance melted away.

Marcus and Lucius, the two brothers who work for the police department, are also quite charming characters. I loved how they brought technical expertise to the group by being knowledgeable about anatomy, fingerprints, photography, and the like, and I especially enjoyed the way they bickered with one another. Their presence immediately made scenes feel lighter, and they brought something of a family aspect to the whole band.

Supporting characters were well-crafted in that no two felt quite the same. Teddy Roosevelt (yes, that one) was cheerful and warm while still demanding absolute cooperation and loyalty from his men. Cyrus and Stevie - two of Kreizler’s employees - were charming, though I wish Cyrus had gotten to do more than just kind of silently stand by awaiting orders. Mary - Kreizler’s maid - was a lovely character, and I appreciated the positive disability representation we got with her, though I do not like how her character arc ended and how it related to the main plot. The crime bosses were intimidating without feeling too much like stock characters, the thugs did their job. I don’t think there was a character that was poorly written, just characters who served purposes that may or may not have been needed.

As for the murderer... we don’t get to see him very much, but I felt like I got to know him because so much of the book was focused on mapping out his life and psychology. It worked much better than books where the antagonist is looming off to the side, acting as a vaguely threatening force but not really a character, and one that doesn’t even show up until the last quarter of the book. When the killer finally does appear on page, I felt like he had been involved in the story, even without being physically present, so I was able to accept him as an active force on the narrative, not just a surprise twist at the end.

TL;DR: The Alienist is a well-crafted mystery that uses atmosphere and psychology to create an engaging mystery. While some readers may struggle with the period-like prose or the more disturbing aspects of the story, Carr creates a compelling narrative by focusing on understanding and knowledge over spectacle and action, and by using well-developed characters.

[nothingofpracticalgardening]

18 Versions of Sherlock Holmes Ranked from Most to Least Likely to Set a Building on Fire in a Fit of Rage

Updated list here!

1. Jonny Lee Miller — Elementary

This cool modern gent had a Moment™ in the very first episode of this series wherein he crashed Watson’s car into the side of the villain’s for absolutely no reason except the guy had pissed him off. That’s only like half a step down from setting a building on fire, which makes it almost canon, so this fantastic band tee-wearing lunatic gets first place for sure.

2. Yuko Takeuchi — Miss Sherlock

She may look cute, but this girl is fearless and feral. She would set a building on fire on a whim and dance away, leaving her poor Watson holding the matches as a joke. We haven’t really seen her angry, but she for sure would be unstoppable if she was. Sherlock Futaba has a secret heart of gold and a not-so-secret wit of arsenic and she’s not afraid to use either of them to end your ass.

3. Benedict Cumberbatch — Sherlock

He might tie for second place with Miss Sherlock, actually, because we all remember that one American who dared to slap Mrs. Hudson and fell out a window, several times, for it. I don’t need to tell y’all this Sherlock Holmes is vicious as a viper when he wants to be, but he’s also sweet as a newborn kitten deep down. Still, #3 is pretty high on the list and I think this emotion-driven drama queen deserves it.

4. Christopher Plummer — Murder by Decree

For most of this 1970s movie, you would never be able to picture this Holmes with a temper at all, much less one big enough to set anything on fire. He’s empathetic, easygoing, and even downright warm. But then, after discovering how a young woman has been mistreated by people in power, he suddenly goes for a guy’s throat—literally—and then it’s easier to see why he’s #4 on my list.

5. Basil of Baker Street — The Great Mouse Detective

Excuse me, it absolutely counts as a legitimate adaptation. This manic little guy might be cute as a button but he will go absolutely rabid on you if you push him (although he might feel bad about it a second later). I’m not saying it’s super likely, but it’s not super unlikely either. Honestly I wouldn’t take the risk.

6. Peter Cushing — The Hound of the Baskervilles (1959)

He might not be #1 on this list, but on a list of sassiest Sherlock Holmeses ever, he would definitely be at the top. More than once this sly gentleman was seconds away from Losing It(TM) in this movie; we might not ever have seen him show his temper completely, but between his impatient (but still affectionate) bickering with Watson and his mumbled sarcasm at every other character at every available opportunity, I wouldn’t doubt his capability of setting a fire in sheer annoyance.

7. Jeremy Brett — Sherlock Holmes

Calm but intense, this Sherlock Holmes is extremely popular, thanks mostly to Brett’s love and passion for the role; with all his self-control, every once in a while there’s a little flash of something much bigger going on underneath–his voice gets louder and his eyes get sharper and for a second you might wonder what he’s going to do. It would just depend on the situation, I think; hurt Watson, for example, and yeah…his fire will get you for sure.

8. Original Books

There’s no Sherlock Holmes like the original. Like Brett above, the Blueprint Holmes is cool, unruffled, and very much in control most of the time, but there are a few moments here and there when he turns into lightning personified, ready to strike someone down in a split second if they stir up his wrath. Nevertheless, he is softer and kinder and more patient than most adaptations give him credit for, so he’s lower on the list.

9. Yekaterina Vasilyeva — My Dearly Beloved Detective

This Russian movie features a rare female Sherlock Holmes. Even though the story is more silly comedy than serious mystery, Shirley as a character stands out for her perfectly in-character intensity, cleverness, and of course deductive powers. But despite her intensity, she handles all the complete idiots in her life with more resigned annoyance than anger, and even when faced with extreme insult she hardly shrugs. When tested, she’s more prone to an irritated stare than anything else, so she’s number nine.

10. Basil Rathbone — Sherlock Holmes

Ever wanted to see Sherlock Holmes take out Nazis? This might be the series for you, then. Despite the ‘40s vintage action vibe, though, this Sherlock Holmes really doesn’t have much in the way of a temper and a lot in the way of cool, observant preplanning. When it comes to high-emotion moments, this Holmes is more urgent action than fiery temper. With all that, he tends to lean more on the non-flammable side of the Sherlock Holmes spectrum.

[dragon-kazansky]

A rose in London - Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 4 - Irene Adler

John Watson had come by your place early the next day. He asked about what Sherlock talked you about the other day and when you mention tea, he thought it to be a good idea. He was somewhat glad that you and Sherlock wanted to get along, but he was still concerned about Holmes' behaviour, though you did state you would come to get used to it.

He had originally come around to talk about Mary. He hoped you could shed some light on the right kind of ring he should buy. He wanted it to be perfect, but the moment he arrived, he was far more curious about Sherlock and you.

"He invited you round for tea himself?"

"He did. I think you were perhaps right about him fancying me." You smiled softly. "I don't recall anyone ever fancying me before, then again I don't meet many people."

"Their loss, I suppose. Why don't you come by now then? Sherlock is at home and he still doesn't have case."

"That would be lovely. Did you come for a reason, or was it just to see me?" You smiled at him.

"That would be a reason, but yes. It can wait however."

"Yes, you have a reason, or yes, you came to see me?"

"Both."

You grabbed your coat and kept up conversation with Watson right until you arrived at Baker Street. John opened the door and let you in first. Before he could close it, however, a voice called out to hold it, so he did. You watched as the pretty lady in pink hurried past you, giving you a quick smile as you let he pass.

"Thank you, doctor." She left.

"Someone you know?" You asked.

"Yes." He glanced upstairs. "I wonder what she was doing here." He sounded as if he was talking more to himself than he was to you. He began to climb the stairs, removing his coat and hat.

Confused by his behaviour, you followed him.

"John?"

Sherlock came rushing down the stairs and hurried to the window, pushing it open.

"Holmes, what are you doing? Are you wearing a false-"

"False nose? No." He was out of breath. Sherlock looked at you smiled quickly, before both of them looked downstairs. You followed their gaze, becoming confused by the strange behaviour.

"Tell me that that wasn't-"

Sherlock grabbed John's coat and hurried out the window, jumping down. You stuck your head out to see what he was doing.

There was a loud crash as he jumped onto an unstable platform and fell through it. He called for John, but all Watson did was pull you back inside gently and close the window, continuing upstairs.

When you reached the apartment it was empty and messy.

"Who was that woman?"

"Irene Adler." John muttered, picking up an envelope.

"A friend of Sherlock's?"

"Something like that."

"I see." You spotted the picture frame on the table which was laying face down. You picked it up and looked at it. It was her. Sherlock had a photo of her in his apartment. Why did that bother you ever so slightly? "He must really like her."

John turned around and saw you holding it.

"She's no good for him."

You put the picture frame back, standing it up.

"I still think he fancies you."

"Doesn't matter." You sat down.

Seconds later, Sherlock came stumbling in. He spotted John first and then you. You had just taken off your coat and was draping around a chair. John saw down in the armchair and picked up the newspaper. Sherlock's gaze had settled on you, you smiled at him, hoping he would do something other than stare. The detective moved over to his small table and began to clean himself up. He did look an awful mess.

"Look at you, why is it the only woman you ever cared about a world class criminal?" John flicked through the newspaper.

His words struck a cord in you.

"Oh, is she your lover?" You asked, sounding as natural as you could.

After John suggested Sherlock might like you, you had hoped to get to know him better. Perhaps you would come to like what you discovered of him, but now it seems there was already a woman in his life. Now you felt like you were getting ahead of yourself.

Friends would suffice.

"Was." John spoke up. "She was the only adversary to ever outsmart him, twice. Made a proper idiot out of him." John was grinning.

You bit your lip, amused. She sounded entertaining, if anything. Then you remembered what John said about her being a criminal. Sherlock certainly seemed the type.

"Alright, you've had your fun." Sherlock finally spoke. He was looking at you from the corner of his eye.

"What's she after, anyway?" John asked.

"Time to press on."

"What could she possibly need?"

"Doesn't matter." He was starting to sound like you now.

You watched them bicker as Sherlock stood up and walked over to where you were sitting, pushing the photo frame of Irene face down once again. He sat across from you and kept his gaze on you as he told John it was no business of his. He brought up the fact they had done their last case together. Sherlock then reached for an envelope that was sitting open on the table. John had read it, apparently.

"Missing person." John described the man in the photo. "You're obviously no her type. She likes ginger dwarves." John grinned.You picked up the contents of the envelope and looked them over.

"So, she offered you a case?" You looked at the photo. "That's good isn't it?"

They both chose to ignore you as Sherlock picked up his violin and moved over to John. They continued to bicker like an old married couple. Sherlock felt the need to explain. He rambled on about what he was up to after he jumped through the window. It sounded rather far fetched, but at the same you weren't surprised. The effort he had gone to follow her undetected was rather amusing. He brought up the man in the carriage she was rising with.

"She's intimidated. She's scared of him."

"Yet, she works for him."

"Right."

"Well, it's nothing to do with me, but I advise you to leave the case alone." John said seriously.

You looked between them both and put the photo, which you had been holding up this entire time, down on the table.

"Well, I may not have a choice, hmm? After all, I may being the rent own my own soon. Thanks to you." He pointed his bow at John.

"Get that out of my face."

"It's not in your face, it's in my hand."

"Get what's in your hand out of my face."

They bickered some more. You chuckled softly, catching Sherlock's attention. He smiled at you and gave you a wink. The sound of someone coming upstairs shifted everyone's attention to the door.

"Mr. Holmes?"

"Clarky!"

"Sorry, Inspector Lestrade said you must come with me at once."

"What's he done now, lost his way to Scotland Yard?" Sherlock sounded bored. "Watson, grab a compass, he means us."

"No. You means you." John pointed out.

"It's Lord Blackwood, sir." Everyone looked up at the officer. "He, uh, well, it appears he's come back from the grave, sir."

You turned to look at the boys.

"That's not possible." You muttered.

"Most engaging." Sherlock sat up, leaned forwards and placed his hands together in thought.

"Very clever. I pronounced the man dead myself." John stated.

"What are the facts?" Sherlock asked.

"Grounds keeper claims he saw him walking through the graveyard just this morning, sir." Clark explained.

"I'll leave this in your capable hands." John gave Sherlock's knee a fond pat and stood up. "I have an appointment with Mary."

"It's not my reputation that's at stake here."

"Don't try that." John pointed at him, warning him.

"Have the newspapers caught wind of it yet?" Sherlock asked Clark.

"Well, that's what we're trying to avoid, sir."

"Certainly. What's the major concern?"

"Panic. Shear bloody panic, sir."

"Indeed." Sherlock was trying to work it all out in his head. You could see the cogs turning as you looked at him. You were curiously about this turn of events.

"You're not taking this seriously, are you Holmes?" John was astonished.

"Yes. As you should. It's a matter of professional integrity." Sherlock stood up from his seat. "No girl wants to marry a doctor who can't tell if a man's dead or not."

You smiled. Sherlock just wanted Watson by his side again. He didn't want the last case they did to be the final one together.

"Can I come?" You asked, smiling at the detective.

"Certainly." He smiled back at you, holding out his hand for you. Grabbing your coat, and he his, you took his hand and looked to John who sighed and grabbed his things. Time to investigate a ghost.

Sherlock helped you into the carriage and sat beside you. John sat opposite you both.

You hoped to learn plenty about the detective while on a case with him. You also wanted to see what John would be giving up. This was rather exciting.

Tags:

@awyr @fandombeehive @charmed-asylum  @sigynbandraoi-blog @procrastinatingmurder @madshelily @phantomofhogwarts

[darklingichor]

The Strange Case of the Alchemist's Daughter by Theodora Goss

Okay, so remember a couple weeks back when I ranted about Sherlock Holmes being used as a romantic figure?

We'll, I finished the book that inspired it.

That is a very small part of it, so my foot-stamping about this point will be brief and kept till the end of this entry, because dispite this bit of literary nails on chalkboard, I really enjoyed this book.

The Greta Helsing books seems to have been my intro into a sub-genre that I didn't realize was so popular. For lack of a better phrase I'm going to call it Classical Fanfiction. Wherein the author takes characters from classic lit and plays with them.

I'm enjoying these sort of stories but I find it funny that some people look down on fanfic writers who do essentially the same thing for free with no claim on the characters they are using, while so called "ligitiment" novelists are getting paid for it simply by the virtue of the fact that the characters they are playing with, are older.

Anyway.

So this one, starts out focusing on the daughter of Dr. Jyekll, Mary.

She's 24 years old and just buried her mother, after the latter spent years secluded and insane.

The household is out of money and she can't find work. When looking through papers, her lawyer, notices an account previously unknown to Mary. The account is set up to give money to The Mary Magdalene Society "for the care of Hyde".

Mary wonders if the reward for the capture of Hyde, after he committed murder, is still able to be collected and sets out to find out if the man she knew as her father's research assistant is still alive and living at this society.

To this end she heads to 221B Baker Street and first encounters Holmes who had just finished shooting into one of his walls and Watson who reminds him to act in accordance with polite society.

To her credit, Mary doesn't take much from either of them and employs Holmes to help her.

The book then weaves together elements from The Island of Dr. Moreau, Frankenstein, Rappaccini's Daughter, and  Dracula along with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

Throw in The Whitechapel Murders and a couple side shows, you have a story to sink your teeth into (pun half intended).

I've read all but Rappaccini's Daughter.

To be honest it took me a long time to read

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

See, when I was a kid, Nickelodeon would play animes and obscure cartoons on the weekends and during the summer.

I remember all the ones that either made me cry (The Velveteen Rabbit), that I could watch over and over (Rikki Tikki Tavi), that left me weirdly unsettled (The Legend of Manxmouse... Don't know why on this one) and one that scared the shit out of me: The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. But it didn't scare me like other shows scared me.

No, this one left me disturbed, because even though I couldn't put my finger on it at the time, there is nothing scarier to me than losing one's will and being aware that it's happening.

Which is why this book interested me, but I was hesitant to read it.

Thankfully it is much more of a mystery/adventure story than a examination of good and evil.

It also has an interesting gimmick that I didn't mind, but others might find annoying. The book is, as a whole, about seven different ladies, Mary, Diana, Beatrice, Catherine, Justine, Alice, and Mrs. Poole.

It is told mostly through Mary's perspective, but being "written" by Catherine. The others frequently interrupt the narritive to make comments and bicker about the way the story is being told.

I kind of liked this, I thought it was funny and a cool way of telling the story. But a co-worker of mine who is also reading it, finds it annoying, which I totally get.

All in all I liked it, except for... *Deep breath*

Okay so Mary is presented as very logocal, observant, and somewhat no nonsense. A good foil for Holmes. And it started that way. He found her useful and helpful with the case she tasked him with as well as with the Whitechapel Murders.

And she found him arrogant, but interesting and someone to learn from.

But some where about a quarter of the way through, she developed a crush, and over halfway through he started acting very un-Holmes like in general, and to her in particular. It is heavily implied at the end that he is akwardly trying to court Mary.

No, no, no, no, fucking, no!

No going to reiterate my rant, but jeez!

On top of it, does a book that combines characters and storylines from six different classics as well as a set of historical unsolved serial murders really need the start of a love story? I personally don't think so.

I am hoping the series keeps it in the background, if it just has to be there, because otherwise it will make me grind my teeth.

[honeypiehotchner]

Trust -- part four

I swear I have absolutely no self-control. Here’s another part.

I wasn’t going to update this story again until Tuesday, but then I just finished part five, so I decided I’d post this tonight. I like to always be one step ahead in the writing process than I am in updating on here. That’s both a good and a bad thing.

I know things you don’t know hehe

Warnings: Language? I guess? The f-bomb is used many a time in this chapter, but other than that, just some sadness.

The morgue at St. Bartholomew’s Hospital in London is Sherlock’s home away from home, you decide. Especially when upon walking in, a young woman addresses him by name.

           “Sherlock!” She beams. She obviously works here judging by her lab coat and her hair pulled back in a pony tail. “Hi John! And—who’s this?”

           “Oh, Molly this is Y/N L/N, Y/N this is Molly Hooper,” John introduces you.

           You smile, offering a wave. She returns the gesture, and you can hear the question she’s going to ask before it even comes out of her mouth.

           “Are you…John’s…you know, girlfriend?”

           You let out a loud laugh, probably too loud to be in a morgue, so you quiet down as quickly as possible. “No, no. I’m his half-sister.”

           “Sister!” Molly grins, surprised. You see her give John an almost offended look. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

           “Yeah…” John nods. “Me either.”

           “I’m his half-sister,” you explain. “We just met a few days ago.”

           Finally understanding, Molly nods, dropping the subject and going over to the body that you guys are here to examine. She carefully pulls back the sheet, revealing the man’s face. He’s still in his clothes, which is odd, but then when Molly begins explaining everything, you understand.

           “He was just brought in. I haven’t even done the paperwork yet. This one must be really important—”

           You stopped listening halfway through Molly’s nervous ramble – you know she fancies Sherlock; you saw it when you walked in, but you can’t focus on that right now. Because your eyes locked on the face of the man lying in front of you the second she revealed it.

It can’t be.

Absolutely not. You’ve met a lot of people. It has to be a coincidence, just someone who looks like him – eerily like him. That’s all.

           It takes John a second to realize you’ve gone frightfully still, but once he does, his older brother side immediately comes out.

           “Y/N?” He steps closer, his hand on your arm. “What is it?”

           “Fuck,” is all you say. Then again. “Fuck.” You turn around, pushing your hand into your hair and stepping out of John’s grasp. “Fuck!” You would know his face anywhere.

           Even Sherlock stands from examining the body to give you a strange look.

           “Fuck. Fuck.”

           “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

           “No, no, no, no. Tony, fuck. Tony, come on.” You try to remember the last time you spoke to the agent. It’s been weeks since he’s texted. Weeks since you left him. “Shit, my God.”

           John gives up on trying to get your attention, instead standing still with the other two people in the morgue, all three of them giving you wide-eyed looks.

           Sherlock narrows his eyes first, studying your behavior as you turn back around, your eyes avoiding Tony’s body on the table. It’s obvious you knew the man, but Sherlock senses there’s something more there. And if he were to voice that deduction, you’d tell him to fuck off.

           Even if he is right.

           Your hand shakes as you pull out your phone, quickly dialing Allen’s number from memory, hoping you’ve got it right.

           “Hello?”

           “Thank God. Allen, hi. It’s Y/N. Listen, have you—”

           “What the fuck do you want? I got a call saying your charges are all cleared, you lucky bastard, so I don’t wanna fuckin’—”

           “For Christ’s sake, if I wanted a lecture from you I would’ve come to visit your office.”

           “I’m sure I can find something else to arrest you for—”

           “Just shut up, alright? I wouldn’t have called if I didn’t have to. It’s important.”

           “Well, out with it!”

           I was trying to, you want to snap, but don’t. “Have you spoken to Agent Whitaker recently?” Please say you talked to him two minutes ago, please, for fuck’s sake—

           “Tony? He’s been off on vacation for a week – hey, why the fuck do you care?”

           You sigh, closing your eyes. Allen. The father figure to Tony, who might as well have been Tony’s actual father since his actual father couldn’t be bothered to care about him. You should’ve known when you left that Allen would be more pissed with you than anyone else. Allen always thought you were trouble – trouble for him because he was the head of the agency, and trouble for his boy because he saw the heart eyes Tony had for you the second you met him. He was the first to see the problem, but Tony saw past it, and eventually, because of that, Allen started to, as well. You should’ve known when you left it would only confirm what he already thought in his head about you from the day you met him.

You open your eyes, ignoring the worried glances coming from John and Molly. “Because I think I’m looking at him right now.”

           “What the fuck are you goin’ on about?”

           “I’m in a fucking morgue, Allen,” you hiss, ignoring the shocked looks from John, Sherlock, and Molly. A first.

           “What the fuck? Where are you?”

           “London,” you reply evenly. “Does he have anything to identify him? A tattoo or something? Hang on—I’ll put you on speaker.” You pause. “Okay, go. We’re listening.”

           “‘We’re’? Who’s—Never mind. You’ve held his hand, smart one. Look at his hand. He should have a tattoo. A number eight.”

           Hand holding, Sherlock notes. Something to do with sentiment, so there was, in fact, something more.

           “Where on his left hand?” You ask, nodding to John who steps forward to check. You already know this. But you don’t want it to be him, please, God, don’t let it—

           “On his fucking hand, where else—” You can hear the panic rising in Allen’s voice as he continues rambling on, a mix of gripes toward you and gripes about this being absurd because Tony was just taking a break. But Tony never takes breaks, you remember. And you knew this would be hard for Allen to believe. Tony Whitaker was Allen’s best undercover agent. The absolute best man he had.

           You hear John sigh heavily, holding up the man’s left hand. There, on the skin between his thumb and index finger, is a black, number eight tattoo.

           You remember it. You remember running your thumb over it as you held his hand. You blink back the tears, not wanting to cry right now – and feeling foolish for even wanting to. What you two had – it was never supposed to mean anything. You both knew that and made that agreement.

           “He has the tattoo, Allen,” you say quietly. “Between his thumb and index finger.”

           You hear Allen let out his own heavy sigh, and the silence that follows makes you wonder if the line has disconnected. But then, like he was searching for words and couldn’t find them, all he says is, “Can you send me a picture?”

           “A picture?” You snap. “Of a dead man?”

           “You’ve done worse,” he snaps. “I just want to be sure it’s not some lunatic with the same tattoo.”

           “I don’t think it is,” you mutter, but you move to take a picture anyway, shuddering at the idea. You hit send. “It’s sent. Did you get it?”

           “Well give me a second to look.”

           You chuckle. Even though he’s arrested you three times and absolutely despises you because you managed to escape all three times (Tony helped you escape, and you know Allen knows that), he has always been amused by you. He’ll never admit that, of course, and neither will you. You’ll both continue this act of bickering and hating one another for as long as you can. You remember it used to annoy the shit out of Tony, that you and Allen could never quite get along.

           “That’s him,” Allen suddenly replies. You see John hang his head, probably hearing the despair in Allen’s voice. “Shit, Tony,” he mutters, forgetting he’s on the phone for a moment. “What the fuck did you get yourself into?” You know the question isn’t directed at you, which makes the tight feeling in your chest worse.

           “I’m sorry,” you murmur. “What do you want me to do?”

           Allen chuckles darkly, no doubt holding back tears. “What can you do?”

           “We’re gonna figure out what happened to him,” you reply, determination taking over. “I’m with Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson right now.”

           “Those two?” Allen perks up. “Alright.”

           “You’ve heard of us?” John asks.

           “Hell yeah, I’ve heard of you boys,” Allen replies like it should be obvious. “If there’s anyone I want figuring this one out, it’s you two.”

           “Well, thank you,” John suddenly turns bashful, but you’re glad he’s at least replying since Sherlock is too busy examining Tony further. “We’re going to figure this out.”

           You smile fondly, glad John is on your side – you know Sherlock is, too, but he’s preoccupied, as usual. “Can we call you back later to talk more?”

           “I’ll do you one better,” Allen pauses. “I think I should come to London.”

           “Are you sure?” You ask, pulling the phone off speaker and pressing it to your ear. You turn to walk away a little, suddenly feeling sick. “I mean, do you want to risk it?”

           “Risk what?”

           “Oh, I don’t know,” you nearly roll your eyes. “Your best agent has just been found dead. Did it ever occur to you that whatever killed him could be after you?”

           “Is that concern I hear?”

           You pinch the bridge of your nose, not exactly in the mood for this. “Fine. Come to London if you want. But if your ass gets killed, don’t blame me.”

           You hang up the call, stuffing your phone back into your pocket. You lean your head against the wall, taking a deep breath. Shit, Tony. Shit is right. What shit did he get himself into? What the hell was he doing in London?

           You don’t have time to wonder about that right now. You really don’t want to even think about it.

           You lean back, rubbing your forehead tiredly. You hear footsteps behind you, and you’re right to assume it’s John.

           “Are you okay?”

           You decide to be honest. “No.”

           You hear him chuckle, but it’s not humorous. It’s sad. A sad chuckle – something you do as well that you always thought was inappropriate, must be a Watson trait. Even if your mom despised the name and the man that fathered you (even though you know she still loved him until the day she died), meeting John has changed your perception of who a Watson is. John has set a good example. You don’t mind being a half-Watson as much.

           “I’m sorry.”

           “Thank you,” you offer a small smile when you turn around.

           “Uh, Sherlock is gonna run some tests and go to his mind palace if you want to head back to the flat.”

           “I’m sorry, his what?”

           “Oh,” John does laugh this time. “His mind palace. He—It’s like a map. He stores facts in different spots and he can go back and visit them at any time. In his palace.”

           You give Sherlock a look, finding that he has his eyes closed, hands already steepled at his chin. “It would be a palace for him, wouldn’t it?” You shake your head. “Can we do something else? Sitting around doesn’t sound good for me right now.”

           John nods, understanding, and thankfully not prying, even though you know he wants to. “What do you want to do?”

           You think it over for a moment. What you really want to do is scale a building or two, maybe jump from here to there, but you know John wouldn’t be up for that. He, knowing him as you do now, probably wouldn’t want you doing it anyway, so you make a mental note to remind yourself not to tell him if you ever do that one night. He’ll only worry more than he already does.

           Then, it hits you. “My trip to the record store was cut short earlier,” you offer, a little dazed at the fact that going to the record store, having a chat with Mycroft, listening to Sherlock play violin while you read, visiting a crime scene and running into Lestrade again, and coming to the morgue all happened today.

           “Alright,” John nods, accepting. “Let’s go.”

           “Bye Molly!” You wave with a smile. “It was nice meeting you.”

           “You too!” She gushes, walking closer to not disturb Sherlock as much. Oh, she fancies him like crazy, you smirk. “I hope I’ll be seeing you around more often. And I’m really sorry about your friend.” She pauses, fishing her phone out of her lab coat. “What’s your number?”

           You gladly give it to her, bringing out your own device to put her number in. John smiles at the interaction, glad to see you making a friend. You’ll admit it does feel rather weird. The number of friends you have always dwindles after you leave one place, so right now you have Molly (you guess) and John. You would mention Sherlock, but it’s clear to you he doesn’t have friends – and he hardly seems amused enough with you to be a friend. It’s a work in progress.

After you and Molly finish exchanging numbers, you give her a hug – she’s the sweetest person you’ve met, sorry, John – before you set out with John to give Sherlock his space.

 ~~~

You let out a sigh of relief when you step back into the record store, but if Mycroft interrupts you again, you already plan to tell him off.

           Going back to the crate of B’s, you start from the beginning, since you didn’t get very far earlier anyway. John moves to stand next to you, going through the crate of A’s. You try to ignore it, but it must be some stupid sibling thing, because you can sense John’s emotions more than anyone else. You don’t know if it’s because he feels so much, or if it is being his sibling, but it’s rather annoying.

           He’s worrying. And it’s so loud.

           “So…Lestrade arrested you last year?”

           There it is. The beginning of the small talk. You nod. You’ll entertain him. “Well, he had an arrest warrant. I don’t think he ever got as far as really arresting me. He tried to.”

           “And?”

           “I refused,” you shrug. “There was no sign that said I couldn’t play guitar on the roof of that building.”

           “What building?”

           “It was a bank, I think.”

           John stops going through the records to give you an incredulous look. “You scaled a bank and played guitar on the roof?”

           You chuckle, shaking your head at yourself. “While the sun rose. It was so peaceful. You should’ve seen it.”

           “Y/N.”

           “Hm?” You raise your eyebrows.

           “You can’t just scale buildings like that.”

           You shake your head with a laugh. “See, this is why I didn’t say anything. I knew I’d get a protective older brother speech from you.”

           “It’s not a speech—”

           You give him a look.

           He sighs. “Just. Stay away from rooftops, okay?”

           “Why?” You snicker. “You got something against feeling the wind in your hair and looking down on a city?”

           “Sherlock fell from a roof,” he pauses, taking in a deep breath. “So I have a bit of a problem with rooftops.”

           “Oh…” You nod. You weren’t expecting that. “How did that happen?”

           “It’s a very long story,” he shakes his head, staring down at the vinyl records in front of him. “And it’s in the past.”

           “You know, you can’t ask me questions about my life and then avoid the questions I ask you.”

           He looks up to meet your eyes with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want to talk about it right now.”

           “Fair enough,” you nod, returning to flicking through the records. You find 1 by The Beatles and smile, holding it up. “There she is.”

           “Is that your favorite?”

           “Of course,” you smile, moving to put it back.

           But John stops you. “I’ll get it for you.”

           You smile almost out of instinct, because you don’t realize it at first. “I have money, but thank you.” You pause, staring down at the record. “I don’t even have a record player,” you say, but it’s more of a code for I never buy myself anything, so I probably won’t buy this anyway.

           He hesitates, thinking something over. “I’m sure they sell them here.”

           “What? You want me to buy a record player?”

           He shrugs. “Why not?”

           “Right,” you chuckle. You forget for him – and every normal being, probably – that buying something you want, if you have the funds, is the almost obvious solution.

           John can tell something new is troubling you, and it only takes him a second to remember the conversation you both had a few days ago. I don’t have…stuff. I’ve always gone without. He still grimaces at the idea of you only having one outfit which included shoes two sizes too small, and no personal belongings whatsoever – not even a favorite blanket or a bag. Just a phone and the clothes on your back.

           No wonder you’re hesitant about buying yourself a vinyl and a record player. You’ve literally never had the option. You’ve never had the funds, or a place to call your own where you could keep said belongings.

           “You know you can purchase it,” he pauses, not wanting to sound like he’s prying, but he kind of is. “You have a flat now.”

           “Right,” you say again, this time turning to look at him. “Is it bad that I sometimes forget that I do?”

           His gaze turns sad, but he shakes his head. “Not bad. Just know that you do have it. And you’ve got me.”

           You offer him a small smile, this feeling – having a flat and having a friend, a half-brother – is the most foreign feeling you’ve ever felt. Not uncomfortable, but just new. You’re not used to any of this at all.

           “You said you have money?” John asks, switching subjects to bring you back around.

           You nod, humming, “Mycroft.”

           “Right,” he scoffs. “Are you really going to tell him the truth about what Sherlock does?”

           “Christ, no,” you laugh, laying The Beatles record next to you. “That’s boring.”

           “So…what are you gonna tell him?”

           “Oh, I’m sure I’ll think of something,” you let out an exasperated sigh. “Do you think they have any Paul Anka here?”

           “Who?”

           “You’re right,” you wander over to the Q crate. “Queen would be a better pick – ah! A Night At The Opera. The best album.” You turn back, picking up The Beatles record, too. “Do you think they have any classical?”

           John snorts. “Just listen to Sherlock play if you want that stuff.”

           “Right,” you nod, entirely serious. “I’m sure he’ll play enough of that. No need to waste money on a record.”

           John furrows his eyebrows, but doesn’t have time to argue with you before you’ve wandered off again. He isn’t sure what’s gotten into to you, and you aren’t sure either. But you think it has something to do with your fingers grazing over Tony’s favorite album of all time earlier. Desperado. The Eagles.

           You try to move past it, but then your eyes fall on the single version of “Desperado” that is on the wall and you freeze. You can’t seem to get away from it, from reminders about Tony.

           “Y/N?” John walks over behind you, looking to where your eyes are fixed. “What is it?”

           You reach out and hold the record in your hands, a shuddering sigh leaving your lips as your thumbs rub over the plastic. “Tony used to sing this,” you whisper. “I’d play…and he’d sing.”

           “Oh, Y/N,” John sighs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I am so sorry.”

           You nod, not answering him. You put “Desperado” back, slipping from John grasp to return to the crate of E’s. You think this must be a sign, or you would if you believed in that kind of stuff. But regardless, you pick out Desperado, adding it to your collection.

           You owe it to Tony to buy this. And to play “Desperado” one last time.

           “I think I’m just gonna start with these three for now,” you murmur, looking up at John. It feels odd even saying that you’ll start with these. Like you’ll be back to buy more.

“Okay.” He nods solemnly, hating the look that you have on your face. He remembers once hearing Molly say something about looking sad when you think no one is watching, and it only makes him wonder how deep the hurt has to be for someone to not be able to mask the sadness when they know someone is watching.

~~~

John carries the record player while you carry your three vinyl records. You wanted to protest, but decided against it after remembering that your shoulder would only hate you if you tried carrying the player yourself. It hasn’t been right since the accident.

           Reaching your flat, you pull the keys out of your pants pocket, unlocking the door and stepping inside. You see John’s look of surprise with how empty your living room is, even though he tries to hide it because he has been trying to get better about letting your lack of stuff not bother him as much – since you prefer it this way, after all.

           But after four days of sitting on the floor, you do think one chair couldn’t hurt. Or maybe a beanbag, or something.

           “You can plug it in over there,” you gesture to the plug against the far wall. You really want to be left alone, but you know he wants to help, so you let him do this small thing for you.

           After he finishes, he stands with a proud – but you see the sadness underneath it – smile. “What are you gonna play first?”

           “I don’t know,” you breathe. “If I’m honest…today has been a lot. I think I’m gonna go take a nap.”

           “Okay,” he nods, understanding that’s his cue to leave. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

           You offer a smile. “Thank you.”

           “No problem,” he replies, walking over to the door. He stops halfway, giving you a sympathetic look. “I’m just upstairs if you need me.”

           You falter for a second, not used to anyone saying if you need me to you at all. The assumption is always that you’re fine on your own (granted, that is true) and you’ve also never had anyone around who cared enough. “Okay. Thank you.”

           “Yeah,” he nods. You can tell he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. He opens your door, giving you one last, fleeting, worried glance before stepping out and shutting the door behind him.

           Hearing the door shut is almost your cue. The tears well in your eyes. The tension releases from your shoulders. The numbness settles in.

           You almost crumple to the floor right then, but you force yourself to walk to the record player. You sit down against the wall next to the box, sliding the three records you bought over to you. You grab Desperado, pulling the record out of its sleeve.

           You sigh as you place the needle in the correct spot to play “Desperado,” the music flooding the room a second later.

           As soon as the piano begins, the tears fall down your face. And they seem to do that the entire night.