#and I think it’s so nice that the story that makes Holmes ask Watson to check his opinions

[aceredshirt13]

@johnlocked-swiftie

Really? What don’t you like about it? I recall that I went into that story expecting a nightmare based on the title, but given that it turned out to have absolutely nothing to do with unpleasant racism toward Asians, I found it very charming and sweet. It definitely has dated language typical of the 19th century, but it’s just about the politest language that existed at the time (no n-words! a distressingly uncommon blessing! especially since even stories without particularly negative attitudes toward black people often used it!), and it’s a rare story of the period that discusses fear of racist backlash, condemns it as horrible and unfair, and ends with complete acceptance and love.

The Sherlock Holmes stories were absolutely one of the series I was thinking of here in regard to old lit often being both queer and racist, but that sentiment was directed at the very ugly racism present in stories like The Sign of Four, “The Three Gables”, and “Wisteria Lodge”, as well as the casual racism that rears its head in many others (Holmes disguising himself as a “Jew pedlar” in A Study in Scarlet, or the unpleasant generalizations made about Romani people in “The Speckled Band” and Southeast Asians in “The Man With the Twisted Lip”, to name a few). Doyle had a tendency to flip-flop a lot in his takes on societal ills, and said views could not necessarily be seen as a straight line from worse to better (after all, WIST and 3GAB came out after YELL); but as a mixed black and white person myself who was once a little girl like Lucy, I’m very fond of “The Yellow Face”, because it promises an innocent child’s happiness and has its heart in the right place.

the double-edged sword of old British literature is that there’s a solid chance it’ll feel gay but there’s an equally solid chance it’ll also feel racist

[contact-guy]

heyyy I hope it's okay to send an ask! I just wanted to know about your art process, if you got any advise. Because I'm in love with your SH doodles, they're so dynamic and lively and the shading is such a nice accent yet it remains somewhat minimalistic? I'm relatively decent at realism but want to develop my own character in drawing more and I'm wondering how you arrived at yours, did you have a method? Thanks in advance^^

love to talk about DRAWING......

The short answer is that because I want to draw them a lot, and have limited time, I can't be too precious about how the final result looks! So a lack of perfectionism and a desire for speed ends up forcing me to simplify and stylize them. This was an organic process (if you scroll down my art tag you can see I was drawing them with a bit more detail, finish, and care a few months ago - I was illustrating vs what I'm doing now, cartooning).

Ideally when you are cartooning, every line of the character's face is doing work to make them THEM, and to tell a story. No unnecessary lines! I find that story is best expressed through eyes, eyebrows, and mouth (this might be different for you). Those features can and should change shape to express emotion. They are usually what I draw first, to figure out the emotion, and they're what I spend the most time tweaking.

The rest of the features - face shape, cheekbones, nose, forehead, ears, hairline - are less emotive, less 'plastic', they don't change shape much. These are doing work to make the character recognizable. I try to keep them simple and have a few simple rules that I can remember about each character.

(Watson is tricky because of his mustache! I've found that treating it as part of his mouth rather than a distinct piece works best, but even so it makes his face less emotive - which, honestly, works for the character, as he is less demonstrative than Holmes)

I'll usually do a simple underdrawing to figure out what the body is doing - trying to capture the energy of a pose and, again, thinking about what story the body is telling.

Then I 'ink' in the clothing, following the lines of the body and gravity. Victorian clothing is fun to draw, I find that the structure around the shoulders and neckline lends itself to expressive poses. I did a bunch of Victorian clothing studies a few months ago and felt like I built up a 'library' in my head so that I don't need to reference it every time.

Shading is incredibly minimal and quick. In really simple drawings, its purpose is usually to distinguish characters from the background. In more detailed ones, it's to give them a little dimension and focus the eye to the faces.

Every choice I make is in service of readability rather than beauty or accuracy, if that makes sense. So it is quite a different mindset than when you're drawing realistically or painting.

I hope this was helpful! I am a professional artist but whenever I get sucked into a fandom I find myself making leaps and bounds in my craft because I want to draw so MUCH and don't care about making it polished...truly shout out to hyperfixation for the gifts it brings

[strawberrywinter4]

Fic Request:

John wanting to be in a relationship (no he's not gay (he might be gay for one hat wearing genius maybe~)) attends a speed dating event in which Sherlock insists on sitting next to him for so he doesn't end up with 'another terribly boring woman'.

And then Sherlock proceeds to sassily analyze each one because let's be honest he wants to be John's date.

Thank you so much for the prompt! I loved writing this story, it was so much fun <3

Pick and Choose

Fandom: Sherlock (TV)

Tags: Pining John, Eventual Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Getting Together, Speed Dating, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Jealous Sherlock Holmes, John Watson Loves Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Holmes Loves John Watson, Make Out Sessions, Kissing, Neck Kissing, Humor, Fluff, Some Angst, Teacups break, Swearing

Rating: Mature

Read here on ao3.

*•*•*•*•

John wants to dig himself a hole and never come out. 

Speed dating was never a strategy he thought he would have to resort to, but here he is. The venue is nice, held in one of the hotels on the high end of town, though the participation payment was surprisingly cheap, why not? The food is decent and the interior is pleasing to look at, with white curtains, windows that showcase the streets of London, round tables scattered across the spacious room, and a sparkling chandelier to top off the scenery. 

There are a lot more people attending than John thought. Beautiful women are seen from across the room and now that he thinks about it, maybe this wasn’t a bad idea after all. He put on his best button-up shirt, one that matches his eyes (he thinks, at least), and though his hair didn’t wish to cooperate today, he still managed to comb it decently. 

“You know you look quite ridiculous staring at the various sweets in front of you. I suggest if you’d like something, simply take it.”

The familiar baritone voice shatters John’s thoughts. 

Slowly, he turns to see Sherlock looking at him impassively. John blinks in disbelief. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” John demands. 

“I don’t understand how you could attend such an event,” Sherlock says, dismissing John’s question. “Why do this when you could be on the case I offered?”

“I-”

“You told me you were visiting your sister. Next time don’t make a lie up on the spot, it was painfully obvious.”

“Sherlock-”

“I solved the case if you were wondering,” Sherlock says. “It was simple, too simple. I’ll have to ask Lestrade for a better one. Hardly a 5.”

“Sherlock,” John interrupts. “I’m not going to ask again. Why are you here?”

“To save you from disaster,” Sherlock tells him. “I knew you were desperate, John, but this is unnecessary.” 

“Well, you scare off all my other ones,” John retorts, releasing a strenuous sigh.

“If you’re really set on getting a pathetic girlfriend, fine. But I’ll have to decide if she’s adequate.”

John stares in shock. “No… no. Why do you have to decide?”

“No offense, John, but you’re not very good at choosing your partners. They always get in the way of the Work.”

“Or maybe the Work gets in the way of them,” John offers with gritted teeth. 

“Unlikely,” Sherlock murmurs, observing the venue. A buzzer sounds, a cue for everyone to get settled in their seats. “You’ll hardly know I’m here,” Sherlock promises. 

John highly doubts that. 

John takes a seat at a table in the back, his confidence in this situation decreasing by the second. Sherlock grabs a discarded chair and places it close to John, taking a seat. John looks at Sherlock briefly, watching the detective take off his scarf, revealing his long neck that looks quite delectable, if John’s being honest-

But of course, that’s a normal reaction. Sherlock is an attractive person and John will notice that from time to time. That doesn’t make him interested in Sherlock, that just means-

“John?” a woman’s voice asks. 

John realizes he’s been staring at Sherlock for a long period of time. He feels his cheeks heat and turns to the pretty woman, who has a curious smile on her lips. 

“Hi,” John greets. “How did you- oh… right. Name tag. Hah.”

“Obviously,” Sherlock mumbles and John steps on his foot for his troubles. Sherlock scowls, kicking John’s foot back in retaliation. John takes a sip of his drink to calm himself.

“Um… is this like a threesome thing?” the woman asks as she takes a seat, eyeing the two men with slight interest.

John almost chokes on his drink. “Uh- no. No, sorry. This- don’t mind him. He’s my…”

“No one in particular,” Sherlock chimes in.

“Yes. That.”

“Oh,” the woman says, nodding. “Well, I’m-”

“Charlotte,” John says, his chin jutting to her nametag with a smile. “Beautiful name.”

Charlotte blushes, giggling as she waves a hand at John bashfully. John can practically feel Sherlock roll his eyes. 

“So, Charlotte, what do you do?” John asks. 

“Accounting,” she responds, twirling a piece of her raven hair. “Summarizing financial transactions and all that.”

“She has two cats,” Sherlock murmurs, his voice low enough so that she’s unable to hear him.

“I quite like it,” Charlotte continues. “It’s not what I’d actually like to do, but it’s enough.”

“Protective father,” Sherlock analyzes. “He’d be a nuisance. He contacts her at least four times a day.”

“What I’d really like to do is be a flight attendant so I can get out of this fucking city and explore the world,” she says, frustration slipping into her voice. “I hate it here, actually.”

“Oh, uh- I’m sorry to hear that,” John sympathizes, shifting in his seat.

“Nicely dressed, cleaned jewelry, she’s being provided great sums of money,” Sherlock says.

“Sorry, did you say something?” Charlotte asks, eyes going to Sherlock. 

Sherlock gives his signature fake smile. “Not at all.”

The buzzer goes off and Charlotte stands, huffing a breath of relief. “Anyway, it was nice to meet you, George!” she says as she rushes away. 

John stares, watching her go. What just happened?

“And extremely disorganized,” Sherlock concludes. 

“God, I don’t need you spitting your deductions in my ear every second,” John scolds. 

“I’m assisting,” Sherlock retorts. “Quite wonderfully, if you must know.”

Another woman with blonde locks takes a seat across John. John’s about to say something before the woman holds up her hand, gesturing for him to shush. 

John blinks in bewilderment, but stays silent, looking around uncomfortably.

“Her sister forced her to attend,” Sherlock murmurs. “She has no interest in you or in any men for that matter.”

John wants to ignore Sherlock, but his curiosity is piqued. “Who’s she texting, then?” John whispers. 

“A coworker. She’s dedicated to her work, seeing as she has an outline of a second device in her pocket. The phone which she’s messaging on is her work device while the phone in her pocket is her personal device.” Sherlock makes a noise of disagreement. “Quite troublesome.”

The woman puts her hand down and finally looks at John, not bothering to show interest. 

“Uh- hello,” John tries.

“My name is Gabriella and your name is John, hence the name tag.” She sighs irritably. “I’m sure you’re a nice man, but in all honesty, you’re not my type. Do you know when this whole thing ends?”

“Oh, I-”

“Do you?” Gabriella asks, eyes landing on Sherlock. 

“An hour,” Sherlock responds. 

“God, this is torture.”

“If you really didn’t wish to come, you should have just denied your sister’s pleas,” Sherlock says absentmindedly. 

John shuts his eyes tight, knowing Sherlock’s forwardness never ends well. Gabriella’s jaw drops, her eyes flaring in anger. 

“I beg your pardon?” she asks. 

“Your sister is persistent, but her excessive guilt-tripping seems to control every aspect of your life.” Sherlock furrows his brows, his focus pointing toward the tablecloth. “My Lord, this is craft fabric. Practically plastic! How could they initiate such a dull detail when they hold this event in a sumptuous setting?”

“This is ill-mannered!” Gabriella argues. 

“Quite,” Sherlock agrees. “If they can afford this hotel, they can certainly afford better fabric.”

“No, you’re assumptions are ill-mannered,” Gabriella clarifies. She huffs, scooting her chair out aggressively before stomping away. 

John sighs, slumping in his chair as his hand rubs over his face. 

“I never assume,” Sherlock says matter-of-factly. 

“She couldn’t even sit with me for ten minutes,” John murmurs. 

“It’s hardly your fault, John. She simply doesn’t know how to prioritize her life.”

The buzzer goes off again. Just as John begins to lose hope, a woman with brunette hair and freckles surrounding her nose sits across John. She smiles kindly, shaking John’s hand. 

“Hello,” she greets. 

“Hi, um…” John’s eyes study her name tag. “Amelia.”

“John,” she says, taking her hand back. She chuckles. “I’m going to be honest, I’m not very good at this sort of stuff.”

“Oh, I completely understand,” John says, laughing with her.

Amelia’s eyes land on Sherlock, an unsure expression settling on her face. John waves him off, which Sherlock glares at. 

“Don’t mind him. Um- so, Amelia, what do you do?”

“I’m a veterinarian,” she tells him. 

John nods. “That’s quite the job.”

“Oh, yes, but… I enjoy it so much,” she says, giving a genuine smile. 

“I admire a person who’s dedicated to their work,” John says, a grin playing his lips. 

John would be lying if he said his mind didn’t drift to Sherlock.

No. No. Sherlock is out of the question.

“And you?” Amelia asks. 

“Uh- well, I was in the army. Now I work at a clinic,” John explains. "I'm a doctor."

She smiles. “How noble. Now that is very admiring.”

John is about to respond before Sherlock cuts in, “Recently separated.”

The air turns quiet. Amelia’s eyes flutter as if her mind is breaking a haze. “Sorry, what?” she questions. 

“No. Uh- don’t mind him,” John tries, but Sherlock is having none of it. 

“You still contact your ex-husband, obviously not over him. You came to this event to get your mind off him, meet someone new to discard the pain, but that won’t work.” Sherlock releases a long breath, showcasing his boredom. “If you’re still so attached to him, it’s probably best to stay out of another relationship. Bringing your secondary relationship problems into another relationship can cause an immense amount of conflict.”

Amelia stares at Sherlock, her pain evident. She stands and leaves without a word. 

John swallows, trying to process what just occurred. 

“You’re welcome,” Sherlock says. “I saved you from months of unnecessary complications.”

John’s knee bounces, agitated. John releases a humorless laugh. “Sherlock, that was extremely unkind.”

Sherlock furrows his brows. “She was still emotionally attached to her ex husband. I informed you of-”

“I don’t need your help!” John snaps, turning to Sherlock. “I don’t know why you’re being so bloody invasive in my romantic affairs, but I’m fucking sick of it, Sherlock. Go bother someone else for a change, hm? Go ruin someone else’s evenings, for Christ’s sake..”

With that, John stands and strides out of the hotel, not bothering to look back at the detective. As the cool London air hits John’s face, he hails a cabbie, getting into the vehicle. He stares out the window, trying not to think of the devastating expression on Sherlock’s face.

—

221B is quiet. 

John has been up in his room for the past few hours, the events of this afternoon swirling through his head. 

He’s changed out of his formal clothing, settling for a simple t-shirt and pajama bottoms. He lays in bed, staring up at the bland ceiling. Running a hand through his hair, he lets out a sigh, his thoughts coming back in full circle. 

He shouldn’t have yelled at Sherlock like that. John knows Sherlock was just trying to help (though he has an odd way of showing it). 

It’s endearing, really, how Sherlock’s mind works. John has always found it fascinating. 

The way Sherlock can look at something and acquire a fact of a thought, not only an assumption. The way he gets excited by the strangest and most perplexing things. The way most describe him as heartless, but he sympathizes with people in his own, unique way that’s difficult to understand but incredibly captivating to watch. 

The way he just sees things differently… that’s what piqued John’s interest from the start. 

The way his eyes light up when he’s analyzing a situation thoroughly, picking apart every aspect with precision. The way he has highs of anticipation for a case, but afterward he takes long breaks for himself, picking a specific place to sleep for hours. 

John is utterly in love. 

John suspected the realization would be surprising, that it would come in heavy waves, but it comes to him in a smooth sailing stream. Of course he’s in love with Sherlock Holmes. He’s known it for the longest time. It was only denial that was blocking the thought from his mind, the constant “I’m not gay” accusations only a way to escape reality. 

But no. John knows it’s time to face the reality, even if it is, for some reason, difficult. He’s in love with Sherlock Holmes. 

More like, he’s obsessed with the man. Fascination doesn’t even begin to describe the appeal he has for Sherlock. 

Just then, a knock sounds at the door. 

John stands, his knees slightly shaky from lying down for so long. Cracking his neck, he walks to the door. He takes a deep breath and opens the door, revealing Sherlock with a cup of tea in his hands. 

Sherlock looks unsure, almost like a kicked puppy. 

Guilt builds up in John’s chest for handling the situation so harshly.

Sherlock clears his throat, holding up the cup. “Tea,” he says. “I um- I made you tea.”

John stares at him, his heart swelling. 

“I apologize,” Sherlock whispers, looking away. “I was inconsiderate. I- I should have left you alone with your romantic affairs. You can… you can date whoever you’d like. Of course you can. I um- I suppose I… I just don’t want you interacting romantically with anyone who will be wasting your time.” Sherlock pauses, then shakes his head. “That sounds inconsiderate as well. What I meant was that most people are idiotic and they don’t deserve you…” Sherlock’s hands clench around the teacup. “No. Wait. That sounds… that sounds… that’s not what I meant. What I-”

“Sherlock.”

Sherlock stops talking, eyes flickering up to John. Gently, John cups Sherlock’s face as he steps closer. The detective’s cheeks flare considerably. John pauses, searching Sherlock’s eyes for any protest. 

There’s none. 

John kisses him. 

Everything is still. It’s silent besides the occasional sound of a vehicle passing by Baker Street in the dark of the night.

The kiss is tender, both of the men staying still. John pulls back, opening his eyes slowly. Sherlock seems stunned. 

John clears his throat, stepping back. “Fuck. Sorry, I- I thought…” He laughs awkwardly. “I’m so sorry, Sherlock, I-”

John is interrupted by glass shattering on the floor. The next thing John knows, he’s practically getting pounced on by a six-foot detective. 

Sherlock holds John’s face and presses his lips against his desperately, earnestly. Once John gains back his cognitive function, he kisses Sherlock back, holding his waist tightly. John doesn’t know how they ended up at the end of the room, but his knees hit the edge of the bed and he falls back onto the sheets with a grunt. Sherlock follows him, climbing atop him and straddling him. John makes a noise of encouragement, his hang gliding up to tangle through Sherlock’s curls. 

Sherlock’s lips move against John’s eagerly, kissing him into oblivion. John chuckles and pulls back slightly so that he can catch his breath—disappointment forms on Sherlock’s features. 

“Did I- am I doing it wrong?” Sherlock asks.

“What? No. No, of course not,” John reassures. “Just…” John nudges his nose against Sherlock’s. “Slowly,” he whispers in instruction. 

John brings Sherlock’s head down, capturing the detective’s lips. John sets a slower pace this time, allowing himself to get lost in the sensation. 

Sherlock’s lips are plump, a wonder to taste. Sherlock groans, following John’s movements as he glides his thumbs across the doctor’s jaw adoringly. John shivers at the movement. 

Yeah. He’ll never get tired of kissing Sherlock. 

John sucks in a breath, giving Sherlock’s lips several pecks before leaning back. Sherlock makes a noise of complaint. John grins, squeezing the detective’s waist. 

“I know. I know, love,” he whispers against his lips. “Just two things.”

“Make it quick,” Sherlock demands, his lips already trailing down John’s jaw. 

John huffs a laugh, his mind already getting distracted by the sensation of Sherlock’s eager kisses against his skin. “Well, you’re cleaning up the broken glass.”

“And making you another cup of tea,” Sherlock says, sucking a particular spot on John’s neck. “Obviously.”

“Mhm. Y-Yep. Obviously. And-”

“And?”

“And…” John cups Sherlock’s face and makes the detective look at him. “And I’m sorry for being such a dick to you. I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“Don’t, John. I deserved-”

“Stop,” John interjects softly. “You never deserve that, Sherlock. Never.” John’s thumb soothes Sherlock’s cheekbone. “You’re brilliant. Everything about you is brilliant. My evenings are never ruined because of you. Nothing is ruined because of you. You’ve made my life better and I need you. I’m sorry I didn’t realize that before.”

Sherlock stares at him, his breath shallow. “So you… you want me?”

John laughs. “I thought us snogging made that clear?”

Sherlock grins. “I’m not sure I’m fully convinced.”

“Mm. Well, then.” In a swift movement, John flips their positions, Sherlock now on his back and John straddling him. Sherlock inhales a shaky breath, his eyes full of anticipation. John leans down, his breath hot against Sherlock’s lips. “I guess I’ll have to convince you in full.”

Sherlock’s arms wrap around John’s neck, his long fingers running through John’s hair. “Please do.”

*•*•*•*•

Tags: @a-victorian-girl @whatnext2020 @totallysilvergirl @ninasnakie @thegildedbee @whodwantmeasaflatmate @with-a-ghost-mr-holmes @sherlocknjohn221b @jawnn-watson @blogstandbygo @lisbeth-kk @holmesianlove @itsonlytext @7-percent @chinike @peanitbear @mary-johnlocked @bakerstreetbe @curlyjohnlock @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @ceceliajupe @tindomerelhloni-official @ghostofnuggetspast @dw91165 @jolieblack

(Please let me know if you don’t wish to be tagged or if you’d like to be tagged. Thank you for the reblogs!!💞)

[amypihcs]

Hello humans and statisticians!! First part of illustrious client! The comments were written while i was recovering by one of my worst headaches so... yep. trying to give myself as many happy chemicals as possible.

LET'S BEGIN! With a VERY PERSISTENT Watson that still in 1925 as he's stroking Holmes' hair and just generally cuddling him asks if he can publish this story.

AND HE SAID YES, GUYS! Watson asked for TEN YEARS. When he asked Holmes if he would marry him it only took ten seconds for Holmes to answer by kissing Watson silly. THIS. Is a couple goal.

Anyway, let's see what happened -stirs hot chocolate milk-

Uhm, don't you say, Watson, you both? And you have your favorite nook? AAh. 'Long, thin, nervous arm' check. Flirting by Watson check. Burritoed Holmes check.

Now what is in that envelope?

A CLIENT! and an important one! Both our husbands know him, apparently, he's a household name.

Of course, my dearest, it's OUR case. Now DO kiss me, Watson. I want this matter out of my head until 4:30 -Holmes who had been staring at his husband just as much as Watson.

liar.

You had to write this to make up with the scenes UP. I do believe you are in practice again, but there's no WAY IN HELL that you're not living with your husband after he pratically asked you to bugger him at the turkish baths.

Well, guy arrives at Baker Street in good time. A nice impression already.

He was prepared to find Watson, he thinks he'll be important for the case. He ticks all of the boxes Holmes requires to behave in his best way! Good!

W: See Holmes CAN be polite... mfg H: -SMOOCH- If people are polite to my Watson.

SO an austrian murder! Good, good! (Is Moran alive? bah!) What's he up to?

I LIKE this guy. he has good priorities! Holmes agrees as well!

W-what? No client's name? NO, I WON'T PLAY THIS GAME!

'Client': -puppy eyes- may i... please tell you the facts? H: k. I promise nothing.

PROCEEDS TO TRY AND ATTRACT HOLMES TO THE CASE. (That tactic would've worked better on Watson, but this is good.) AND WHAT THE HELL. Sexism. bah! Bonking them, at least apparently this girl is (usually) a nice one-

And now, in good substance...

Holmes... I see what you're trying to do. But you're wrong this time. It's not the general but a friend. Please don't investigate on IT (They'll do it in their free time in sussex. or on vacation -wink-)

WELL, HOLMES LIKES THIS CASE! ACCEPTED!

now, infoinfoinfo!

Holmes you don't need to sound so admired. Really, my man. Well, byebye, need to think!

-proceeds to dissociate for half an hour-

Earth to Holmes? Ah Watson! Ideas?

tbh Watson's idea isn't an evil one. But Holmes is more logic and he's probably right! Well, do you have a solution, Holmes?

Of course, my friend Johnson! Ah, the criminal one? YES, dear readers, Holmes HAS friends in the underworld. What, they're USEFUL! And probably know a lot of good places to have a relaxing evening!

fast-forward to the evening! Holmes is getting them to dinner at their favorite place!

So they dine and Holmes updates Watson! And then lets a thing slip...

And Watson gets ANXIOUS AND PROTECTIVE!

H: I'm sorry, love, i didn't tell you not to worry you, you know me W: You were in DANGER Holmes, are you alright? H: Of course i am, i'll tell you what happened

What was basically two men trying to scare each other away. Gruner gets very physical with the threats. He's used to have his enemies attacked... Holmes is NOT SCARED AT ALL! You kidding?

He recognizes the danger of course. And now wants cuddles because he was really a good detective. And wants to stay near Watson!

[miwhotep]

MILVERTON - WHAT'S REALLY IN THE CONAN DOYLE CANON

For my first post, I got a lot of rebloggings which was really encouraging that people really don't want to tear me apart for liking YuuMori Milverton, but they were also an interesting read related to what people thinks on what's in the original Conan Doyle story. So I've decided to make a post about how actually The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton happened - what different adaptations added or took away, and clear some misconceptions. Originally, I wanted to include the Moriarty the Patriot version of Milverton here, too - but I realized this post will be long enough on his own, so I made a different post just for the YuuMori one - its relations to the canon and further inspirations.

Little interesting fact as starter: Conan Doyle based Milverton's character on a 19th centurian art dealer called Charles Augustus Howell. Howell was friends with a poet/artist Dante Gabriel Rosetti - Howell was also his agent - and he and his artist lover, Rosa Corder faked Rosetti paintings together and sold it for money. There is also a theory that Howell was a blackmailer, but this never got proved. Howell might've died a mysterious death: he was found killed in his home with a coin in his mouth - but some historians doubt this story and state that he died in an illness.

Now, let's get to the Conan Doyle canon. A woman called Lady Eva Brackwell turns to Sherlock Holmes because Milverton got his hands on some love letters she wrote to her crush - but she is about to marry an earl who wouldn't react well to see these letters. Milverton asked 7000 pounds from her to keep silent - since she doesn't have that much money, she asked Holmes to help her negotiate a lower price with Milverton. Holmes invited Milverton to his office, but the negotiations failed - so Holmes and Watson tried to attack Milverton to take the letters away by force, but he pulled out a gun and told them that the letters are not with him - he is not stupid after all. After this defeat, Holmes chose a more extreme way to fight: he seduced one of Milverton's maid and engaged with her to get more information on Milverton's house. Then he and Watson broke into the house - but Milverton was still awake because he waited for a client, who turned out to be a vengeful woman whose life got ruined by Milverton. She killed him and got away. Holmes and Watson then burned Milverton's blackmail materials and escaped, but they almost got caught. Lestrade the next day turned to Holmes to help him solve the Milverton murder, but Holmes declined. At the end of the story, Holmes secretly showed Watson that the vengeful woman last night was a woman in a really, really high position.

That is my favourite Sherlock Holmes story ever since I'm a child and I found Milverton a really interesting villain: an irredeemable, despicable being who, with a seemingly nice smile on his face tells people in a kind voice, how much money he wants for not ruining their lives - he always maintains a gentlemanly behavior, because he doesn't need to act threatening - as a blackmailer, his whole existence is a threat. And he is the one villain who doesn't just make Holmes go illegal, but also makes him use an innocent woman to get close to him.

The story got adapted several times, most notably by Granada, Soviet Holmes and BBC. These adaptations changed several things compared to the original canon: the Granada added lot of blackmail stories NOT IN THE CANON: neither ball scenes was in the original, nor the outing the gay soldier to his fiance or Lady Eva's maid betraying her, or Holmes and Watson's pub investigation or Holmes visiting Milverton in his house... etc, etc, etc. Beside that the actor who played Milverton was superb, I never liked this adaptation - I love Granada wholeheartedly, but the later seasons felt really messy - they added too many things not in the books and the Milverton episode was also way too hard on the romance aspect (and the balls).

On the contrary, I love the BBC Sherlock version of the story (except the end) - Sherlock was really a hit or miss with me, but I think they modernized the Milverton case well (and Lars Mikkelsen was great). Milverton there was a media mogul called Magnussen - a foreigner, not English - who liked controlling people through blackmail and had an incredible memory similar to Sherlock. He also had a tendency of disrespecting boundaries (the piss in the living room). The misconception of Mary Morstan getting blackmailed by Milverton comes from here - in the canon, this NEVER happened, they never even interacted. Here, Mary was the vengeful woman wo distracted Sherlock and John's break-in to Milverton's and Sherlock ended up taking up the case from Mary, but unable to outsmart Milverton, he killed him in the end - which also didn't happen: Sherlock Holmes only ever killed in self-defense, he never murdered anyone.

The most faithful adaptation of the three is the Soviet Holmes episode, but even that added some further elements to the original stories: Holmes and Watson got hired by Mycroft to help on Lady Eva, they were absolute loosers when they broke in and Milverton there was an agent of Moriarty.

(However, there is one more adaptation what said to be even more faithful: the 1965 BBC one with Douglas Wilmer, but sadly I never got to see that series, only the Cushing parts.)

In conclusion, all of these adaptations differ from the Conan Doyle canon (why can't just people adapt the original story on screen faithfully once). But I like to think about Sherlock Holmes adaptations as a whole multiverse: alternate Sherlocks, Watsons or Milvertons - and everyone can choose their favourite.

And now, let's get to the next post: the Moriarty the Patriot version!

[philtstone]

#7, 13, and 22 for the Psych ask game?

7. Favorite Gus moment?

ooooh this one is so hard! burton guster my forevergirl ... he has so many iconic and Big Ticket moments that stand on their own and aren't related to other characters, but the biggest hallmark of gus's character to me will always be how good of a friend he is -- and so all of the scenes that popped into my head are a bit more subtle. it's a tie between the scene in the thornburg virus episode where gus bursts into the hospital room to make sure shawn doesn't confess his feelings to juliet for the wrong reasons, and the scene in "one, maybe two ways out" when gus immediately calls shawn out for being unfair when shawn says its bothering him that juliet is with declan. something about those two scenes really exemplifies why i appreciate gus so much; he's not here to be nice, he's here to be a good and honest friend who values the people he cares about three dimensionally, and sometimes that means not giving them the easy way out. that's not an easy thing to do. for all that gus runs away when the murder and chaos gets too much, he's incredibly brave and forthright when it comes to his personal relationships, more so than any other character on the show. he's the kind of friend i always try to be, and so those moments always stick out to me the most.

an honourable mention to the entire cold open of "office space", though. also the line "goldilocks was a crazy blonde shorty shawn", which makes me fall to pieces laughing every time

13. Favorite secondary character?

who counts as a secondary character??? can i say henry?? can i please say henry??? henrys secondary enough right??? my henry apologia knows no bounds. favorite disaster father in the history of television, no question

22. How did you get into the show?

good question!!! its a very convoluted story lol so i;ll try to speedrun it. also sorry because this is going to get a little bit sentimental and possibly too sincere

i very much subscribe to the "sometimes you encounter a story when you Need It Most" theory and i think my relationship w psych really exemplifies that idea. so once upon a time, years ago, i tried starting it when i was still into brooklyn nine nine -- this was like, 2017 i want to say? and i was kind of immediately put off and never got past episode 1. because i was expecting b99, which psych is absolutely not. its characters are a lot more morally gray and the show's narrative structure isn't a sitcom -- it's a parody of a crime procedural, which i wasn't used to. lucky enough for me, the beloved people in my life made me sit and watch the highlight episodes a few years later, and of course i was charmed, because psych is nothing if not charming and i grew up reading sherlock holmes mysteries as a kid. holmes and watson are kind of inherently a hit. but i think i never really saw it as it was meant to be watched: gradually, and with the breathing room to really understand the characters in the subtle way the show reveals them to you. i also don't think -- and this may sound weird -- i was old enough to appreciate the Point of the show

when i saw it for the first time, the main characters were still Adults to me -- a nebulous concept for sure, because i was just 22 and they technically weren't that much older than me, but it didn't feel that way at all. they looked like grown ups, especially because i was mainly watching later seasons. i was also stuck at home, with my whole family surrounding me, and hadn't really faced the question of "well what the fuck am i supposed to do with my life now?" yet

this last year, i moved really far from home, permanently, for the first time. i am very close with my brother, and for the last 2 years had been lucky enough to be roommates with one of my best friends, who in turn had basically become like a sister to me. in the first few months after moving, i did live with family, but because i was working remotely from a house in the suburbs without a car, i was alone in the house all day. i started putting psych on as background noise because i remembered enjoying it, and it was something the two people i missed most loved ... and i very quickly realized that shawn and gus were 1) basically the same age as me, and 2) one of the few dynamics i'd ever seen on tv that accurately reflected what it felt like for your Person in life to be a sibling.

it was so comforting to have on in the background. it felt like my own siblings were in the room with me, trying their best and making me laugh! and the more i watched, the more i realized that psych, at its core, is a coming of age show .... about what to do when you hit your late twenties, look up, and realize you have no idea what you're supposed to do next. and it takes your hand, and says gently, "well, it's ok. you have time. you don't have to leave what's familiar behind, but you also need to be brave enough to go after something new. it'll be hard, but you'll figure it out with the people you already love, and meet new people you'll love on the way, too."

that oversimplifies it for sure -- but something about that just hit home so unexpectedly. its been so strange moving into this new phase in my life and feeling terrified that i'll be forced to leave the people most important to me behind because Thats Just What Happens When You Grow Up. to encounter this story that was so fun and clever and sincere that showed again and again the opposite of that sentiment was such a balm to my homesickness and truly made moving away a lot easier than i ever expected.

and its just good -- well written and funny and extremely creative, and while it has its imperfections, it sticks the landing at the end, which has always been the most important thing to me, really. so anyway. now im here 5 months later and i think ive dragged like 6 people down with me in the last month, lol. theres probably more to say here but suffice it to say that because of all that, there will always be something very special about this show to me

[mariana-oconnor]

The Illustrious Client pt 1

“It can't hurt now,” was Mr. Sherlock Holmes's comment when, for the tenth time in as many years, I asked his leave to reveal the following narrative.

Both Holmes and I had a weakness for the Turkish bath. It was over a smoke in the pleasant lassitude of the drying-room that I have found him less reticent and more human than anywhere else.

Right, yep. That tracks.

I had asked him whether anything was stirring, and for answer he had shot his long, thin, nervous arm out of the sheets which enveloped him...

Is this an actual Sherlock Holmes story, or is it porn? I'm finding it very difficult to tell at this point.

Sir James Damery was announced. It is hardly necessary to describe him, for many will remember that large, bluff, honest personality, that broad, clean-shaven face, and, above all, that pleasant, mellow voice. Frankness shone from his gray Irish eyes, and good humour played round his mobile, smiling lips. His lucent top-hat, his dark frock-coat, indeed, every detail, from the pearl pin in the black satin cravat to the lavender spats over the varnished shoes, spoke of the meticulous care in dress for which he was famous. The big, masterful aristocrat dominated the little room.

"It is hardly necessary to describe him." - proceeds to wax lyrican for 4 lengthy sentences.

Also, Watson is getting horny on main for this masterful aristocratic dom. This story is already so horny.

My mind is a bit stuck on the lavender spats, though. That is a definite choice.

“Of course, I was prepared to find Dr. Watson,” he remarked with a courteous bow. “His collaboration may be very necessary, for we are dealing on this occasion, Mr. Holmes, with a man to whom violence is familiar and who will, literally, stick at nothing. I should say that there is no more dangerous man in Europe."

Nice that he already knows about Watson, though. Strange how many people turn up and don't know who Watson is in spite of Watson writing all these stories.

“I have had several opponents to whom that flattering term has been applied,” said Holmes with a smile.

Haven't you, though?

“Mr. Holmes, I must beg you not to press that question. It is important that I should be able to assure him that his honoured name has been in no way dragged into the matter."

People in the early 20th century need to sort out their priorities. How often have we had a rich client that doesn't want to tell anyone anything because of SCANDAL, but they still want their problem solved, don't they?

“He has a daughter, Violet de Merville, young, rich, beautiful, accomplished, a wonder-woman in every way. It is this daughter, this lovely, innocent girl, whom we are endeavouring to save from the clutches of a fiend.”

What is it with girls called Violet? The others, iirc, were at least pretty smart and on the ball. Hopefully this one will be too. It's an ill-fated name in these stories, though.

Colonel Damery needs to chill out about her, though. He's getting a little excessive.

Can't believe I only just noticed he's a colonel. And he doesn't appear to be the bad guy. Will wonders never cease? Maybe ACD overcame his prejudices.

"She dotes upon him; she is obsessed by him. Outside of him there is nothing on earth. She will not hear one word against him. Everything has been done to cure her of her madness, but in vain. To sum up, she proposes to marry him next month. As she is of age and has a will of iron, it is hard to know how to prevent her.”

Guys... I think maybe you've got to let her marry him. I know he murdered his last wife and all, but there comes a point where you've just got to accept that people don't want your help.

Clearly I'm not in a very generous mood today. Lol.

"My client, however, is an old friend, one who has known the General intimately for many years and taken a paternal interest in this young girl since she wore short frocks."

Oh, it's her gay dad. OK. That makes sense.

"I rather fancy that Shinwell Johnson might be a help.” I have not had occasion to mention Shinwell Johnson in these memoirs because I have seldom drawn my cases from the latter phases of my friend's career.

New character alert.

...but as he dealt with cases which never came directly into the courts, his activities were never realized by his companions.

I really hope he's already dead, because if he's not I bet his companions are about to realise his activities pretty damn quick.

“Who knows, Watson? Woman's heart and mind are insoluble puzzles to the male. Murder might be condoned or explained, and yet some smaller offence might rankle."

"He has breeding in him—a real aristocrat of crime, with a superficial suggestion of afternoon tea and all the cruelty of the grave behind it."

Love this line.

“‘Excuse my amusement, Mr. Holmes,’ said he, ‘but it is really funny to see you trying to play a hand with no cards in it. I don't think anyone could do it better, but it is rather pathetic, all the same. Not a colour card there, Mr. Holmes, nothing but the smallest of the small.’"

Why do these villains always insist on acting like villains? Surely it's always better to pretend not to be a villain until the last possible moment.

"'You have heard of post-hypnotic suggestion, Mr. Holmes? Well, you will see how it works, for a man of personality can use hypnotism without any vulgar passes or tomfoolery.'"

He's literally just coming out with 'she's hypnotised btw'??

Holmes came in with no cards and you're just telling him everything, huh?

And then a direct threat? Twirl your moustaches, my man. Why not laugh maniacally while you're at it.

IMPORTANT ADDITION FROM THE SECRETARIAL CAT: aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaggggggyhhfd

hhhhhhegwuyikkkkkkkkkkl;;pppppppp

[anulithots]

Because you love storytelling, what are your top 5 fav (fictional) books ever? Do you love live- stage drama? Oh, and do you love fairy tales like Andersen, Grimms, etc? If you are, what are your top 5 fav fairy tales?

As I read your blog, I can tell that you love story telling and story as a whole (sorry if it's kinda weird to say). Love your blog so much 🥰💐

Awww thank you!

I dooo like storytelling, it's my solace and comfort place and how my little neurodivergent self processes the world.

Top 5 favorite fictional books:

The Little Prince. The movie fundamentally shaped my childhood, and the book shapes me now. It's such a beautiful story and I've quoted it... quite a few times 😅

Six of Crows. I looove all the characters, their dynamics, the growth they have and how they fit into the larger world. The way all character dynamics and backstories are explored is soooo well done. It's 'be gays, do crimes' in a book and I love it so much,

The wild robot (is it obvious now I used to read a lot of middle grade and never reaaalllyy got into young adult - I've been reading lots of fanfic - so now I'm trying to find a new genre to like.) It's the sweetest little found family between a robot and a gosling ever.

Sherlock Holmes (not finished yet). I've only read a bit so far. THe main duo of Sherlock Holmes and Watson are so fun to read. Their banter, Sherlock's willingness to do crimes and Watson wanting to go along with it because he finds Sherlock interesting. Sherlock Holmes himself being so adhd core. He accidentally became the best man at a wedding for the people he was trying to spy on. It's peak fiction.

(The BBC show had very good characters and character dynamics, but the mystery was kinda... lackluster to be honest)

Blind Trust by @goodluckclove. Such a comfort read, all the characters and dynamics are thoroughly explored. And everyone deserves hugs and happiness. It feels like reading a slice of life show mixed with the saddest backstories and well done emotional writing and akjsdfkl. It was so fun and comforting to read.

Honorable mentions I'll have to reread: Howl's Moving Castle, The Hunger Games (my tbr list got messed around), Heaven Official's blessing.

TBR list: haikyuu, sherlock holmes, The picture of dorian gray, Six of Crows duology, Heaven Official's blessing, The Hunger Games, Omniscient reader's viewpoint.

ALSO ALSO. If anyone ever has recommendations for books that are commentaries with lots of deep contemplation and explorations of themes of some sorts... the ones that sit with you afterwards and make you look at the world in a new way.... I'm alwayyys open to recommendations.

Do you love live- stage drama?

I've only seen one😅. I don't remember what it was called. One of those classic desi ones. Ended tragically and such. I've never gotten into it, but I think I'd like it if I ever did! Maybe when I have ✨ le independence✨ I'll see some. I'm always open to suggestions in my inbox!

Oh, and do you love fairy tales like Andersen, Grimms, etc? If you are, what are your top 5 fav fairy tales?

I've never read any, but I did have a phase where I was interested in them. I watched and read lots and lots of summaries.

I liked the little mermaid one. The ending tragedy sat with little me for a while. The idea that her sisters cared enough to give her the option of her old life at the expense of the prince, that she loved him so much - even if it was unrequited - that she'd rather sacrifice herself... the moral dilemmaasss klajflkasdf. (Also the queer allegories heheh)

The Rapunzel one also was nice... I've heard lots of versions and such.

Um kajdfk I don't remember everythinggg. But they were dark and I loved how dark they were. Since they were 'fairy tales for children' it's pretty much the first dark thing I was exposed to. I honestly love dark things for that weight they add to stories and my fairy tale phase probably played a major part in that.

Thank you so much for the ask!

[m0th-t33th]

i love sherlock holmes and fucking hate bbc sherlock . please rant about "id be lost without my favourite blogger"

OHHHH MMY GOOOD LORD. OKAY. FUUCK DUDE.

ok. ok. so. the change from 'i am lost without my boswell' -sherlock holmes, a scandal in bohemia to 'i'd be lost without my Blogger.' -bbc sherlock, the great game makes me SO MAD.

so. in a scandal in bohemia its been like... a While since holmes and watson have been together, yeah? cuz watson got the wife and whatnot. and generally, holmes is a bit stand-offish. just a bit weird, kind of rude and whatnot. watsons a bit.. unsure, of where he stands with holmes most of the time because of it. so. when he says the Best Line Ever, its holmes like.. actually being nice. and actually wants watson there. (plus also, keep in mind this is like.. not THAT long after theyve met. watson doesnt have the proper vibe on holmes yet)

and it doesnt stop with that, either. he gets PHYSICAL with watson. making him stay. and says to the client, who was a bit iffy with having watson there, 'no. you talk to both of us or you get no help.'

so. he clearly wants watson to stick around, yeah? 'i am lost without my boswell' is clearly him being genuine, yeah?

now we look at bbc sherlock. (horrible, by the way)

whats the context. um... sherlock was taking the piss out of mycroft (???) and is bored or something. gets a phonecall from lestrade saying they have a case, so he gets up and grabs his blazer or whatever. he asks if john is coming. john responds with 'of course. if you want me to?' uneasy. probly doesnt think sherlock actually wants him there (why would he? sherlocks forever pissy at him and fully just acts like he hates him. insults him and everything) and sherlock responds with.. 'id be lost without my blogger.' ok. in text it seems... fine? bit weird but... fine, i guess. HOWEVER. watch a clip of his line delivery.

he sounds... sarcastic. as if hes taking the piss a bit. 'id be lost. without my Blogger.' doesnt sound sincere. and yeah, ok maybe this is cumberbatch butchering the line but like.. if we even Look at the past interactions between sherlock and john?

sherlock insults john, pretty much always calling him an idiot or something similar. not ONCE has he been kind to him. he doesnt NEED john to be here, either. he doesnt have to talk cases out with him - sherlock doesnt have to talk to ANYONE. he just has to talk out loud (hence the skull). all john does when joining sherlock is just... stands there. he just fukcing stands there and calls sherlock brilliant and Thats It.

whereas, in the books, holmes really does benefit from talking things out with watson. he needs someone to bounce off of, and i doubt the inspectors were very helpful with that, given how they run off with the stupidest solutions (a study in scarlet - rachel) plus, im pretty sure watson being a doctor is actually helpful, too.

so. when sherlock says the phrase 'id be lost without my blogger' hes just... taking the piss. hes not using it as a secret way to be kind. its just.... nothing. to him. sherlock doesmt even LIKE johns blog. doesnt like him typing up cases either, i dont think.

and like. he hasnt. been without john, either. this line makes no sense with how its used in the show. hes saying he would be lost without john but he... wouldnt be. he has no reason to htink he would be, either. [points back to the fact john does fuck all while on cases] he has no reason to say this. if he was without john, hed still get cases done. if anything, hed probably get them done faster because hes not whinging about how stupid john is.

again, in the original story, holmes says this AFTER hes already experienced working cases without watson again, and we quite easily get the impression that it fucking sucks - working cases without watson. he wouldnt be extremely eager to have watson join in on this case if he didnt care that much, if he thought he could do it on his own.

but with bbc sherlock, sherlock hasnt worked a case solo since meeting john, because they fucked with the timeline. this episode came BEFORE the episode based on the story where the damn fucking line came from, for fucks sake. so sherlock has literally no reason to think hed be lost without john.

so its clearly just a piss take. and you can Tell with the tone of the clip, too. its just. [PUNCHES THE WALL]

fuck dude. 'i am lost without my boswell' has so much love and care shoved into it. holmes CLEARLY cares about his friend watson and he MISSED HIM. HES SO EAGER TO HAVE HIM BACK FOR A CASE LIKE COME ONNN.

and they ruined it. fucking ruined it by turning it into a sarcastic piss take of 'id be lost without my blogger' like FUUUCKKK OOFFFFF. SHUUT UUPPPPPPP, NO ONE LIKES YOUUUU.

god. um. anyway. yeah. thats my rant. bbc sherlock pisses me off so bad and its kind of insane! this is only ONE of my big boy complaints about the show, too. like christ dude. its so bad.

i need everyone who watched bbc sherlock to go back and actually read the original stories because fuckign hell. they are pure GOLD compared to the complete and total bullshit that is the show.

[thefisherqueen]

All right, reading The Bruce-Partington Plans this evening! Two more stories after this and I've caught up with Letters from Watson :)

In the third week of November, in the year 1895, a dense yellow fog settled down upon London. From the Monday to the Thursday I doubt whether it was ever possible from our windows in Baker Street to see the loom of the opposite houses. It blows my mind how normal this kind of heavy, extremely unhealthy smog was in this time. Makes me wonder what in another 100 years people will have going like "You lived like that?!" (I hope it's parking lots and highways and office buildings)

But when, for the fourth time, after pushing back our chairs from breakfast we saw the greasy, heavy brown swirl still drifting past us and condensing in oily drops upon the window-panes, my comrade's impatient and active nature could endure this drab existence no longer. He paced restlessly about our sitting-room in a fever of suppressed energy, biting his nails, tapping the furniture, and chafing against inaction. Bored Sherlock Holmes, oddly cute

“Look out this window, Watson. See how the figures loom up, are dimly seen, and then blend once more into the cloud-bank. The thief or the murderer could roam London on such a day as the tiger does the jungle, unseen until he pounces, and then evident only to his victim.” Oh my, Doyle was really in his tiger fangirl fase when writing these last few stories

Well, well! What next?” said he. “Brother Mycroft is coming round.” “Why not?” I asked. “Why not? It is as if you met a tram-car coming down a country lane. Mycroft has his rails and he runs on them. We'll get to meet Mycroft again! :) Also, quite a funny image, Mycroft running on rails

You told me that he had some small office under the British government.” Holmes chuckled. “I did not know you quite so well in those days. One has to be discreet when one talks of high matters of state. You are right in thinking that he under the British government. You would also be right in a sense if you said that occasionally he is the British government.” And this was me thinking that the BBC series had sucked Mycroft being this whole goverment mastermind out of their thumb. So that's canon?:O

“Well, his position is unique. He has made it for himself. Nice parallel between the brothers here!

“There has been an inquest,” said I, “and a good many fresh facts have come out. Looked at more closely, I should certainly say that it was a curious case.” “Judging by its effect upon my brother, I should think it must be a most extraordinary one.” He snuggled down in his armchair. “Now, Watson, let us have the facts.” I just love this interaction. Holmes being all excited and trusting Watson to tell the important things to him :)

So the case is about a dead clerk that was found - murdered, in all likelihood - carrying some seriously important papers. Which he himself had stolen. And some of which were again stolen of him. Intriguing.

I'm hoping for some fun investigations in tunnels and along train tracks (I hope our men are careful)

If the papers were guarded with the same 'super secure' protective measures as the secret papers we've seen so far, they couldn't have been hard to steal

The actual official guardian of the papers is the famous government expert, Sir James Walter, whose decorations and sub-titles fill two lines of a book of reference. He has grown gray in the service, is a gentleman, a favoured guest in the most exalted houses, and, above all, a man whose patriotism is beyond suspicion. I already don't trust him. At least it's not a colonel?

“Has the fact been verified?” “Yes; his brother, Colonel Valentine Walter, has testified to his departure from Woolwich, and Admiral Sinclair to his arrival in London; so Sir James is no longer a direct factor in the problem.” But his brother is! Very suspicious

“Well, well!” said Holmes, shrugging his shoulders. “Come, Watson! And you, Lestrade, could you favour us with your company for an hour or two? Off they go!

It was one of my friend's most obvious weaknesses that he was impatient with less alert intelligences than his own. Savage, Watson

Watson, we have done all we can here. We need not trouble you any further, Mr. Lestrade. I think our investigations must now carry us to Woolwich.” No don't leave the creepy tunnels and train tracks yet :( I want more adventure

No theories yet. I can't figure out what Holmes means by points and curves and not wanting to investigate the train's carriages

“That should be helpful, Watson,” he remarked as we took our seats in the Woolwich train. “We certainly owe Brother Mycroft a debt for having introduced us to what promises to be a really very remarkable case.” It's 'we' and 'us'. They are so Together

“The end is dark to me also, but I have hold of one idea which may lead us far. The man met his death elsewhere, and his body was on the roof of a carriage.” That explains a lot: why there was a loud thud, why the clerk hadn't a ticket, and also why there was no blood on or near the tracks

The house of the famous official was a fine villa with green lawns stretching down to the Thames. As we reached it the fog was lifting, and a thin, watery sunshine was breaking through. A butler answered our ring. “Sir James, sir!” said he with solemn face. “Sir James died this morning.” Oh! There's a second murder victim?

“It was this horrible scandal,” said he. “My brother, Sir James, was a man of very sensitive honour, and he could not survive such an affair. It broke his heart." Ah, of course, no murder but the mysterious victorian Death by Sadness disease. If he really is dead. Btw, I don't trust the brother

I have a theory: mr. colonel learns of the top secret papers because likely his scientist brother can't keep his mouth shut, either convices his brother to take the papers home, or he steals his key and takes them himself. Anyway, Cadogan West catches them being all suspicious and impulsively (he was hot-headed) follows them to try to stop them. Which doesn't end well, he knows too much so he's murdered, and they place 7 of the papers upon his body so he can take the blame. Of course the brothers cover for each other

Arthur was the most single-minded, chivalrous, patriotic man upon earth. He would have cut his right hand off before he would sell a State secret confided to his keeping. It is absurd, impossible, preposterous to anyone who knew him.” Always trust the opinion of his fiancee. This young clerk was innocent

My friend's face grew graver still. “Anything else?” “He said that we were slack about such matters—that it would be easy for a traitor to get the plans.” Poor security. Why am I not surprised

“We were to go to the theatre. The fog was so thick that a cab was useless. We walked, and our way took us close to the office. Suddenly he darted away into the fog.” “Without a word?” “He gave an exclamation; that was all. Clearly no planned theft then.

“I'm afraid,” said Holmes, smiling, “that all the queen's horses and all the queen's men cannot avail in this matter.” He had spread out his big map of London and leaned eagerly over it. Holmes is a map nerd! Same, Holmes, same. Now the question: what clue did he find from the map?

All the long November evening I waited, filled with impatience for his return. At last, shortly after nine o'clock, there arrived a messenger with a note: Am dining at Goldini's Restaurant, Gloucester Road, Kensington. Please come at once and join me there. Bring with you a jemmy, a dark lantern, a chisel, and a revolver. Danger date! Love it. No clue what a dark lantern is

Try one of the proprietor's cigars. They are less poisonous than one would expect. That is not reassuring at all, Holmes

When I found that the leading international agent, who had just left London, lived in a row of houses which abutted upon the Underground, I was so pleased that you were a little astonished at my sudden frivolity.” So the colonel was innocent this time? Or did he still steal the papers, and then sell them to this agent?

We must bear in mind that Oberstein has gone to the Continent to dispose of his booty, but not with any idea of flight; for he had no reason to fear a warrant, and the idea of an amateur domiciliary visit would certainly never occur to him. Yet that is precisely what we are about to make.” “Could we not get a warrant and legalize it?” “Hardly on the evidence.” They are going to break in! Exciting!

He sprang up and shook me by the hand. “I knew you would not shrink at the last,” said he, and for a moment I saw something in his eyes which was nearer to tenderness than I had ever seen. The next instant he was his masterful, practical self once more. Awww :) Be gay, do crime, boys!

“A fairly complete record, Watson! If we could only get at the man at the other end!” He sat lost in thought, tapping his fingers on the table. Finally he sprang to his feet. Colonel! I haven't given up on my theory yet

I think we might drive round to the offices of the Daily Telegraph, and so bring a good day's work to a conclusion.” I guess that Holmes wants to lure the other accomplice out by placing a new message

But some of these days you'll go too far, and you'll find yourself and your friend in trouble.” “For England, home and beauty—eh, Watson? Holmes you flirt

“By George!” cried Lestrade. “If he answers that we've got him!” “That was my idea when I put it in. I think if you could both make it convenient to come with us about eight o'clock to Caulfield Gardens we might possibly get a little nearer to a solution.” We're nearing the conclusion :)

One of the most remarkable characteristics of Sherlock Holmes was his power of throwing his brain out of action and switching all his thoughts on to lighter things whenever he had convinced himself that he could no longer work to advantage. I remember that during the whole of that memorable day he lost himself in a monograph which he had undertaken upon the Polyphonic Motets of Lassus. For my own part I had none of this power of detachment, and the day, in consequence, appeared to be interminable. The great national importance of the issue, the suspense in high quarters, the direct nature of the experiment which we were trying—all combined to work upon my nerve. It was a relief to me when at last, after a light dinner, we set out upon our expedition. This is a wonderful bit of insight into their characters. Watson is anxiety-inclined. Holmes is able to switch that off to a perhaphs unsafe level - anxiety helps keeps you alive, after all, not good to not have it at all.

The man glared round him, staggered, and fell senseless upon the floor. With the shock, his broad-brimmed hat flew from his head, his cravat slipped sown from his lips, and there were the long light beard and the soft, handsome delicate features of Colonel Valentine Walter. The colonel again. I fucking knew it. Careful, Watson, if you can find more words for his beauty you might faint yourself

I did not murder him! I'm innocent! I only did nothing to prevent it and then did not call for help and then helped get rid of the body!

Some weeks afterwards I learned incidentally that my friend spent a day at Windsor, whence be returned with a remarkably fine emerald tie-pin. When I asked him if he had bought it, he answered that it was a present from a certain gracious lady in whose interests he had once been fortunate enough to carry out a small commission. Cadogan West's fiancee gave Holmes a present? That is so sweet

Another fun read. I couldn't care too much about the fate of those papers, but it was a good case. The yellow smog and trains and tunnels added a lot of atmosphere. And Holmes and Watson interacted very cute in this story

[ridiasfangirlings]

Munakata x Nagare enemies-to-lovers Sherlock Holmes au? (Currently watching YuuMori and I suddenly thought of this for some reason). First I wanted to make this MikoRei like usual but I just can't imagine Mikoto fitting the battle of wits thing in Sherlock Holmes stuff. Doesn't seem like his thing (I don't read the K side stories so maybe I'm wrong lol)

It is hard to imagine Mikoto doing the battle of wits thing, not because he isn’t smart but I think he would consider it way too much effort put into being sneaky when you could just punch someone XD Munakata and Hisui would definitely be a bit more of a match for this case. Imagine Hisui becoming known as the ‘Lord of Crime’, though while he’s the main criminal mastermind the alias itself is also used by Iwafune and Yukari as well. Iwafune is some fallen aristocrat who still has money but not as much influence as he used to due to stepping away from public life to do charity work. He gave orphan Yukari a job as his attendant and poor disabled orphan Hisui became his child and legal heir. Everyone thinks that they’re just a nice family trying to do good works, no one knows that Hisui is truly the notorious criminal trying to change the world by punishing corrupt aristocrats who would otherwise buy their way out of crimes, and who wants to make a world where everyone is equal. 

Munakata meanwhile is a private detective whose path continues to cross with that of the Lord of Crime, though Munakata himself has not been formally asked to uncover that person’s identity he considers it a personal project of a sort — he only wishes to find out the identity because he thinks it would be interesting. I imagine Munakata would also notice that the Lord of Crime despite his name does not target people who are poor or weak regardless of the bad they do, only aristocrats, and he finds this particularly intriguing as he is certain that the Lord of Crime must be of high class himself. He and Hisui probably meet at some fancy banquet or something, like a scam charity run by a corrupt noble and Hisui is ostensibly attending as one of those poor sad disabled kids who this charity will help but really he’s here to make sure the noble in question is revealed as a scammer and then dies. Munakata was invited as a famous detective and his eyes shine the moment he meets Hisui, despite Hisui putting in an act of an innocent guileless person Munakata recognizes immediately that this person has a keen mind.

After this they’re constantly trying to one up each other, Munakata has his suspicions about the Lord of Crime and is getting closer and closer to finding that person’s identity while Hisui has decided that Munakata will be the one to unmask him when the time is right. Iwafune is concerned because he’s been suspecting for a while that Hisui was intending to die in order to make his wish a reality and he’s torn between wanting to let Hisui do what he wants and hoping Munakata will figure it out before things get too dangerous. Hisui and Munakata keep running into each other too, mysteries pop up and they both just happen to be in the same place, smiling at each other blandly and exchanging pleasantries while both running their own agendas (also please imagine them doing that ‘catch me if you can, Mr.Holmes’ moment from Yuumori and meanwhile Watson Fushimi is in the seat next to Munakata with a disgusted look like please stop flirting in front of my dinner).

[gregorovitch-adler]

For the character questions: Sherlock Holmes. If he's already taken, John Watson. And if someone else called dibs on him Mrs. Hudson.

Thanks for this ask!

Sherlock Holmes:

1.) Sexuality Headcanon- I believe he's gay. A lot of his actions in the show (as well as in the original stories) make so much sense in that way, you know.

2.) OTP- Johnlock (I just love them together and they love each other too, so much!).

3.) Brotp- Sherlock and Bill Wiggins. I know he's a minor character from His Last Vow and The Lying Detective but his deduction skills in HLV were impressive and seems interesting to me.

I think Irene could be a nice bro too. I've actually written a fic in which she shows up in a chapter and is a bro for him. Here it is, if you're interested

4.) NOTP- My only OTP from this show is Johnlock (and unrequited Sheriarty is also growing on me, recently, along with Johnlock). So apart from this, I'm not really interesting in any other romantic relationship involving Sherlock.

5.) First Headcanon that pops into my head- I think it'd be a draw if Sherlock and John decided to have a boxing match.

6.) Favourite line from this character-

Actually there are many but here are my top two:

Jim Moriarty: Everything I have to say has already crossed your mind.

Sherlock: Probably my answer has crossed yours.

(From the Swimming pool scene in The Great Game).

And this one:

Sherlock: You. It's always you. John Watson you keep me right.

(From The Sign of Three).

7.) One way in which I relate to this character- His weird affinity towards forensics in general 😅 (I'm a medico).

8.) The thing that gives me a second hand embarrassment about this character- The way he absolutely cannot shut up when he starts talking at the speed of 100x. Ends up saying things he shouldn't have.

9.) Cinnamon roll or Problematic fave- Cinnamon roll all the way. He has a "high functioning sociopath" mask that he puts up.

But he wears that mask in one of these ways-

Not quite effective, you see...

Thanks again for this! More are welcome. 🤗

Questions about a Character

[justacanofcorn]

quam amiterre ludum (losing the game) James Moriarty x OC

Chapter Ten: imago vitae

Chapter Nine

The Watsons have a baby. Anora meets someone new. A travel to Paris. a reflection of life.

“Three tickets to Paris,” Holmes sighs, dropping them onto the parlor table.

“I'm getting a horrible case of deja vu.” Anora rubs her forehead.

“Retracing your steps across Europe will have that effect on a person.”

“Hopefully not too much. You're not allowed to jump off any more balconies.”

“Ah, that's the thing about me, Leeds. I'll do whatever it takes to see the case through. We have that in common.”

“I’m not going to jump off any balconies.”

“Then you're simply not committed to the cause.”

Anora tries to think of a witty reply but is interrupted by the sound of footsteps running up the stairs. A panting Ms. Hudson breaks through the door.

“Mr. Holmes- Ms. Leeds! It's the missus, Mrs. Watson! The baby is coming!”

Anora and Holmes have never felt more useless than at this moment. They sit in the hall of the hospital while John and Mary are in a room. Mary's shouting from the birth is so loud that it penetrates the hallway.

“I can't imagine doing that on purpose,” Anora mutters.

“Never yearned for the joys of parenthood?” Holmes asks with his head resting on the wall.

“Never. Not once. Never will,” Anora says quickly, cringing when another string of wails comes.

“I can't say I blame you. The men have the easy part.”

“Do you actually know what they're going to name it? Or was Mycroft a serious suggestion?”

“Strangely enough, I don't think they trust me with the details. Can't imagine why.”

Though she can't either, Anora is certain that there has to be a good reason.

There came another cry. Anora's discomfort drove her to stand.

“I don't know if I can do this. I'm not squeamish but, the screaming…”

“Go. I doubt the baby will be here anytime soon.”

Even with their burgeoning friendship, Anora still does not think that Holmes would approve of her destination. Her reasons were true- she can’t handle the sounds of childbirth. The intolerance doesn’t come from anywhere in particular, and it’s a new discovery, but that doesn’t lessen its impact.

At any rate, she knew she’d end up at Moriarty’s manor again.

She’s vowed to not let herself wallow while she’s here, though she’s not entirely sure why she’s here. Perhaps she thinks that if she’s going to see him soon, she should bring something of his. It doesn’t make much sense- not like they’ll be in Paris to make nice, but-

So, she doesn’t have a reason.

What is more likely is that Paris feels like it will be the finale of the story, and she wants to revisit this place of peace before it might be too late. To take any momentos. Not like looting, though it does feel that way, but more to pay tribute, even if he doesn’t deserve tribute.

But when Anora goes for the key, it’s gone, and when she tries the door, it’s unlocked.

Could it be one of Moriarty’s other henchmen, or perhaps Moran was released? Or, even more unlikely, it’s James himself? It could be that someone had seen her taking and replacing the key and figured they’d help themselves to the abandoned home. At any rate, Anora picks up a candlestick and wields it as a weapon.

There comes the sound of rummaging, like a mouse in a pantry, and it’s coming from the study. Anora presses herself to the wall but one of the floorboards creaks as she does. She freezes and the sounds stop. She waits, tries to hear if the intruder comes to the doorway but they’re phenomenally quiet. She takes her chances, swings around the doorway and comes face to face with what almost seems like a reflection at first: a woman, maybe a bit older than her, also brandishing a random item (though hers is a paperweight), ready to swing.

Neither woman moves. This intruder, Anora thinks, is strikingly pretty, but with a streak of rage flashing across her eyes. 

“Who-”

“What-”

They speak at once, then close their mouths. They wait.

“You first,” Anora says.

“What are you doing here?”

“My question was going to inquire upon your name. Might we start with introductions and go from there?”

The woman hesitates but when Anora slowly lowers her candlestick, she does the same with her paperweight. Defenses are still strong, but there’s now a lesser chance of someone being beat over the head. Even so, the woman is silent.

“Alright, I’ll go first. Anora Leeds.”

The woman seems to conflict in her mind, then acquiese.

“Irene Adler.”

-

Sofitel Le Scribe.

That was the name of the glorious place he took her to.

He told her it wouldn't be a long stay, that they'd only be in Paris for a couple of nights before moving on to Germany.

“What do you need me for?” Anora had asked out of a genuine curiosity. Moriarty smiled at her.

“Any potential discreet activity. Also, people are much less likely to suspect a man who has a beautiful woman on his arm.”

Anora blushed. She was almost used to these types of words at this point, but she didn't take them too seriously. He always said them with that tone that suggests humor or irony. That was also easier to believe than the alternative, which was that he meant it.

“And, wouldn't it be enough for me to want your company?” He added. 

“Not without questioning,” she deflected (what she thought was) his humorous remark.

“Then we'll leave it at my aforementioned justifications.”

And they had. The first morning was spent having breakfast on the Seine. The afternoon was the Louvre. Multiple times, Anora asked for work, and each time he insisted ‘not yet’. Dinner at a gorgeous restaurant. 

Their suites- Moriarty, Moran, and Anora's were clustered together on the third floor of the hotel. That evening, Anora treated herself to a luxurious bath with salts and oils. Not even when she was young, when they had money, was she ever able to afford such pampering as this.

And yet, somewhere in her gut, she knew it was pampering. She knew that, on paper, it was all rather strange. An acclaimed mathematics professor hires his cross-dressing student to perform small acts of crime for him; she agrees; he offers her things, clothes and training, a place to sleep; she accepts; he is kind to her- perhaps too kind, teaches her to waltz; she doesn't protest; he invites her to Paris; she goes. He hasn't asked anything of her in days; she minds, but doesn't question.

Why? She could very easily see the looks laden with scrutiny from Moran, and they weren't only for her anymore. He often whispered things to their employer around her, and she began to get the notion that these whisperings weren't about work, but rather about her. Perhaps it was vain to think so; she was feeling more and more vain by the day because of the attention.

Anora drained the tub. These thoughts really only came to her at night when she had nothing else to think about, and she usually had an easy time waving them away. But being in a lavish hotel room in Paris rather than her drafty apartment made it hard for her to forget. Worst of all, she had no one to talk to about it. She had no friends or family. Trying to confront Moriarty about it would be pathetic, and the notion of confiding in Moran would make her laugh.

She thought of Joseph as she dressed in a nightgown and robe and dried her hair with a towel. What would he say?

“What are you feeling?”

Suddenly she was back on the creekside, in her adult body, watching the minnows swim by like silvery little stars. 

“Like I've never felt before. Unsure, but confident. But where does the confidence come from, me or him?”

The ghost of Joseph tilted his head against a tree.

“What is rational?”

Anora knew she'd been ignoring the rational for a while now.

“That he's using me somehow, but why? What does he gain from being so good to me?”

“Unwavering loyalty, like Moran.”

“He doesn't do these things for the war-dog.”

“What do you offer him that he can't get from anyone else?”

“At first, it was the double-life of it all. I can still provide that, he just hasn't asked. My company? I imagine he gets lonely with only Moran around but having only me otherwise can't be much better.”

“Then what's left?”

Anora threaded her fingers through the water, parting the minnows like a giant, confused Moses in the Red Sea.

“I don't know. That's what I don't understand. There's no practicality to balance all of the…else.”

Joseph shrugged. “Then perhaps the practical and rational are absent from this.”

Anora pouted. “I don't like that answer.”

“You’re not fond of imaginary numbers, either. And the Biblical allusion was an interesting choice, given your penchant for skepticism.”

Anora smiled sadly. “Yes. I suppose I'm much different than when you left.”

“Not much. You're a bit stronger, a bit wiser and a bit less so. But you're still Nora, and I'm glad.”

Anora sat up on the bed, her reverie with Joseph now fading quickly behind her eyelids but the feeling remained. She thought of taking a walk to clear her head before sleep but it was far too cold out, so she settled for the hall. Perhaps she could convince herself to speak with the professor, though it was unlikely. 

She stepped out into the hall and paced, soaking in the many portraits and landscapes that adorned the walls. She read their placards closely, learning about the artists and their intentions. She approached the door to Moriarty's suite and her hand stopped short of the doorknob when she heard Moran's voice inside.

“-Adler died for the same sin you're committing now. You don't find that strange?”

“The difference between myself and Ms. Adler is that I am still performing my duties as I should, and that they are mine. I dictate what is appropriate and what is not. She was getting distracted; I'm enjoying myself. Tell me there isn't a difference.”

Adler. She'd only heard the name once but she remembered that it was the person she replaced. She had died?

“And you don't think there's a chance she'll compromise us? That eventually you'll do something she doesn't like, and she runs off and tells?”

“She won't.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I do!” 

Anora jumped from the door. There was a brief pause. 

“I often take your council gratefully but now you are over the line. Let me trend to my interests. The operation is unwavering.”

Steps came towards the door and Anora swiftly ran for a corner. Moran stalked out of the room, cursing under his breath. Moriarty followed him out, looked around the hall, then went back inside.

Anora slipped back into her room and into bed. 

Enjoyment.

Interests.

Distraction.

There was something to these words, almost leaving her with a feeling of frivolity. But again, as she'd said with Joseph, his actions reflected anything but being frivolous. They reflected care. Didn't they?

Anora settled with herself that she'd be on guard around both Moran and Moriarty. But that would be tomorrow. Tonight was for restful sleep.

The next morning they took breakfast in Moriarty's. The professor read the paper, Moran watched the world from the window and Anora was getting ahead on her spring reading assignments. All were quiet and the fire crackled.

“Is everything set for tonight?” Moran asked from his spot next to the window. Moriarty sighed and turned the page.

“Yes. The attendance has been confirmed.”

“What's tonight?” Anora asked with a feigned casualness. Moran scoffed under his breath but Anora ignored him.

“For one, some of the most powerful men in the world are going to be meeting in the same room, making our work indelibly simple. That's where Moran will perform with flawless execution.”

If Moran was pleased with the confidence he didn't show it.

“And second, Don Giovanni at the Paris Opera House.”

“Moran doesn't like Opera?” Anora asked, feeling a bit too brave.

“We can't all galavant around town wearing nice things.”

“Would you like to switch? I can shoot that rifle and miss five hundred times over and you can look devastatingly lovely with Moriarty.”

She tried to heal the small injury she had dealt him. Perhaps he knew this because he smiled.

“Let's stick with what we're both good at.”

“Which I assume means I'll be going to the opera for the first time?”

“You've never been?” Moriarty asked with genuine surprise.

“We went to the ballet plenty, but Joseph and I both would get so frustrated sitting for hours listening to languages we couldn't understand. I think I've grown out of it.”

It was growing late and Anora paced her room nervously. Here she was in a new gown, a pretty purple and lace gloves, dainty jewelry and lace gloves, and she never felt so imitative. Since the morning, the concerns she'd been feeling had creeped and creeped until it was an invasive vine that covered her heart and her mind. Something told her, deep in her gut, that something was going to happen tonight. Something horrible, something wonderful, or both. Moriarty was waiting for her down in the lobby. Whether she felt ready or not, they were going.

Anora slipped a shawl around her shoulders and was grateful for the cold despite the likelihood that she'd freeze outside. Cold disguises blushes and gooseflesh, eased the heat of uncertainty. She descended the steps and her heart caught when she saw Moriarty awaiting her, dressed in his tails and white gloves. When he saw her, he watched her the entire way down until she reached him. 

The eye contact proved to be too much, and when he joined arms with her and they walked to an awaiting car, the discomfort forced Anora to laugh. She covered her mouth.

“What is it?” Moriarty asked as he helped her into the vehicle.

“I was only thinking- well, when I walked into your class on the first day, who would have ever imagined-”

“It is so fantastical, one feels like they can only laugh.”

She smiled and watched Paris pass as they rode the short distance to the opera house. Once inside, they were led to a box with a stunning view of the stage, and Anora was so preoccupied with the vision of it all that she hardly noticed the wonder of the interior surrounding her.

“Anora,” Moriarty asked for her attention once they were sat. The way he said her name, she began to wring the program in her hands. She looked to him.

“Yes?”

“I feel that, since the way events have unfolded, that I am no longer your professor, and things are… different, you do not have to be so formal with me.”

Her ears were ringing a little as the orchestra began to tune and the lights lowered.

“Sorry?” She asked as her palms began to sweat.

“Call me James, please.”

Not far from where they sat, that room with those important men was closed. It was a celebration that would soon be ruined with terror. Anora found himself enthralled with the performance, even if she didn't understand the words being sung.

Down the street and at an elevated position, Sebastian Moran was aligning his aim through a window.

Anora watched as Don Giovanni shook hands with the Commendatore only to be overcome by paralyzing chills. Round the stage devils rose. Anora jumped a little when she felt a gloved hand envelope her own. She turned her head. Moriarty was mouthing the lyrics to the song but he was in fact holding her hand. She looked from their joined hands to his face, then back to the scene. 

She gasped when the man she had encountered in the warehouse, the one named Holmes, appeared from under the Commendatore’s box just as the devils pulled Don Giovanni to hell. The detective bolted across the stage and disappeared from sight. 

It would seem that he played a larger role than Anora had originally thought.

"Such is the end of the evildoer: the death of a sinner always reflects his life,” Mortiarty- James muttered, then looked at Anora. He lifted her hand to his lips and planted a light kiss there, holding her gaze, keeping her eyes on him. Her breath halted. 

A vicious boom shook the opera house. Audience members cried out and stood in their seats. Anora stared at Moriarty, now in horror.

“What was that?” She whispered as the orchestra began to die out. 

“A reflection of life, my dear.”

[amypihcs]

Hello friends in Doyle! Today's story starts with... Holmes being outed for bad posture™

Watson must've been QUITE put out by stinky chemistry moment and DECIDED to share this with him public. See Holmes, the whole of London now knows that you sit bad. Try and sit DECENTLY (won't say straight because we are not straight at all. expecially not you.)

Well, what to do when doing chemistry?

Why not shocking your husband for a chance?

He's SO mischievous. He wants to play! Confess, Watson, confess!

Note this words. Apparently our good Watson forgot who his Holmes is...

NOW to the explanation. Holmes is enjoying this sooo much

Holmes, why did you inspect the groove between his left forefinger and his thumb? Were you perhaps kissing your Watson's hand?

Masterful explanation! Also, i LOVE the point 5. Watson struggled with hazard games and so on and Holmes helps him with that! The sheer trust and love between them, helping each other with their struggles. I love them.

But now, look for it!

TAAAAC not two mins later!

I swear, Granada Holmes did this part PERFECTLY.

But we DO have a real case! And Holmes passes to his Watson a paper to examine.

And apparently Watson can't make much out of it as well. Oh, this Mr Cubitt is very anxious to know the solution of the problem? Well, time to meet him!

Watson?? Is?? Describing someone?? POLITELY?? He should like this Mr Cubitt! And, i mean, HOW CAN YOU NOT? He's a golden retriever!

And Holmes... be careful to the way you address that paper... because you might find yourself in some days reenacting the figures!

Well, let Mr Cubitt explain now! Why would he ever make much of such prank?

Me? nonono, my wife, i'm so worried for her! -the most in love man of England. Maybe only Watson is at that level.

Please, now, tell us the stor- WATSON!

You do have a hand kink, my dear doctor.

Back to the story. What happened?

Are all these victorians marrying after knowing a person for two weeks? Holmes is not that surprised, his husband wrote that he proposed to (lol) his wife (lmao) like 4 days after they met! But Mr Cubitt REALLY trusts his Elsie. He's just such a sweetheart, so in love with her... I love them so much. Well, they have been sincere and had an agreement! And it was working! Well, until -dun dun duuun- a letter came.

And she was SCARED.

And stayed so! poor girl! And then came the dancing men

And it was a SERIOUS, faint-worthy thing for Elsie Cubitt! Wanna hug her!

I'm so glad that Watson approves of Mr Cubitt! He's really a nice man!

Well, the interview comes to an end

And Sherlock 'I care about the CASE not about the PEOPLE' Holmes is thinking to the 'case' very much. He's worried.

Two weeks later Mr Cubitt pays a second visit and Holmes asks his Watson to stay with him for the interview. Because he needs his support doctor.

Mr Cubitt is worried as hell. He discovered something!

SAW THE MAN WHO WAS DRAWING THEM? Oh damn.

Oh and brought many more messages!

Holmes... HOLMES PLEASE. Where have you put your tact? -sigh-

This is how he saw the man. He didn't see any man, he saw 'a figure' and that figure was doing the drawings.

And Elsie koala-held him out of harm's way, apparently. Mr Cubitt now gives Holmes all the drawings. And a new one, one that appeared on the morning after this fact.

And that took the liberty to try and translate! Because yes! It already appears to be a code!

Mr Cubitt WOULD also have a plan to deal with this guy...

And i can't really find fault in it... but i guess Holmes' right.

Gotta be careful with this stuff.

[doctors-journal]

7 October

I finally had a day off from work at the hospital to visit Justin at the clinic outside of the city. This was my first time going all the way out there. The area is beautiful, just hard to get to, but that’s the idea. I’m on the train back into London now.

It’s a fancy place; a converted old manor house surrounded by sloping lawns, all gated in, of course, with a security check at the entrance. According to the nurse who showed me in, Justin was under observation because he’d had a rough morning. So, it was afternoon by the time he was allowed to receive visitors.

I was sent up to his bedroom, which is plain, fairly sparse, but nice, with a view of the grounds. He was lounging on the bed with his Sherlock Holmes book when I came in. He still looks a bit worse for the wear, but he’s doing better. On top of getting him to quit, they’re also making sure he gains weight, which has rounded him out nicely.

He startled at the sight of me. “You came.”

“Of course. Work has just been busy. I forgot how long hospital shifts were,” I grumbled with a smile—it’s been good being back at work, as busy as it is.

“I thought they were just trying to get me to behave.” He swung himself upright, teetering a little on the edge of the bed. “I wouldn’t blame you for staying away after…”

“After you dragged me around Europe and then faked your own death?” I sat down next to him on the edge of the bed. “It could have been worse, and I knew something was wrong when you arrived at my flat, but I couldn’t very well leave you to deal with whatever it was alone.”

“Why? You’d left me once.” I could see what the nurse meant about him being in a bit of a mood.

“Yes, because you were being a git and I wasn’t doing well enough myself to handle it. You know I wanted to make things right when I got back to London, but then you started rambling about me having somehow gotten married.”

Justin pursed his lips.

“I know,” I said, “you must’ve been pretty out of it. And I think we can just call it even now.”

“I didn’t get why else you would leave,” he said at last. “That’s why Watson left Holmes, so that he could have an ordinary, respectable life, and it nearly destroyed both of them. When it happened to me… I just did what Holmes did…”

I had to ask, “Why Sherlock Holmes?”

Justin immediately lit up, his eyes gleaming. “Who wouldn’t want to be Sherlock Holmes? He has it all; the awe-inspiring brilliance, the unshakable confidence, the smooth charm, the commanding presence, and, of course, the man—a fearless retired army doctor who is not without his own charms, at his beck and call.”

“I’m not sure ‘smooth charm’ is the expression I’d use,” I said, but I could only smile at his sudden enthusiasm.

Justin scoffed. “How can you say that when you haven’t even read any of the stories?”

“Hey, I’ve read one of them now.”

He ignored my protest. “There’s an extra copy in the flat. You still have a key? Good. Take it.”

“Justin, you know I’m working at a hospital now.”

“If you have time to come and visit me, it’ll be something to read on the train. If you must choose, The Three Garridebs is perhaps the best, and there is also The Devil’s Foot, and of course Study in Scarlet is a classic—you can skip the whole B-story on the alkali plains—though my favourite of the novels is Hound of the Baskervilles. You have already read The Final Problem, so you might as well also read The Empty House. That should be enough to get you started.”

“How many novels is that?”

“Only two.”

“Are any of these as short as the one I read?”

Justin gave an exaggerated sigh. “Start with The Three Garridebs and The Devil’s Foot, if you must. They’re both in the second volume.”

“Alright, I’ll give them a try.”

Justin grinned more freely than usual. “Perhaps by the time I am discharged you may even be familiar enough with them to aid in catching our Moriarty.”

“In my time off?”

He turned serious. “There’s no need for you to have an income of your own. It’s the least I can do.”

“That’s very generous, Justin, but I’m a doctor, not a detective. It was fun following you on your cases, but it’s good being back at the hospital, doing something I can actually do. Yesterday alone there was an old man having a heart attack who we managed to resuscitate, a woman with a broken leg that needed surgery that we were able to set neatly, a kid with a really bad fever who we’ve managed to get down, and that’s just a handful of them. It’s just one person at a time, but it’s something.”

“Is that why you’re here? To tell me that it’s over?” Justin’s frustration surprised me.

“What? No, I just don’t want to be your assistant. I’m half surprised you’re not sick and tired of all things Sherlock Holmes after, well…”

His lips twisted into an ironic smile. “It’s cost me everything, but it’s also the only thing that’s enabled me to stay clean. To follow in Holmes’s footsteps—and best our Moriarty—I must shake his addiction once again.”

Soon after one of the nurses came back to see me out so that Justin could focus on his recovery, and I promised I would come back as soon as I could.

“You don’t have to,” he said.

“I will.”

[sablesigyn]

What's you worst Obligatory Date Story?

Mine needs a bit of context...

I was staying with my parents on winter break from college and ran into one of my childhood bestie's little brothers at the store. There were 10 kids in that family at the time so our hang out time often included the younger kids. My bestie was a year older than me, so this little brother was my age and I had known him for years but hadn't seen him or my bestie (his sister), since she went to college the year prior. I asked if she was visiting and he told me she had eloped! He said he would elaborate over the phone later.

He called my parent's number. I never gave him my cell number. After giving me very little info about his sister, he mentioned it had been a long time since we had hung out and we should catch up some time. Now....I thought he meant we should hang out....not date...

I said, "Sure. I'm only in town for a few weeks though."

He replied with a huge sigh of relief and said, "Oh my gosh, I was so nervous!"

When I asked why he would be nervous about hanging out I realized I had done goofed. Now, I did try to explain the misunderstanding and said I had never thought of him romantically, but I had already agreed to hang out and felt obligated to do so.

What followed was nightly phone calls to my parents number. If I didn't answer, he kept calling until someone picked up and my parents would always make me take the call. When I told him not to call so much and not to call after 9pm, cause I was working on a project, he started calling at 8:58pm and would ramble on for a hour by making it super difficult to end the call without sounding rude. Eventually I agreed to see the new Sherlock Holmes movie, but there was a snowstorm the night before. He called to change plans and said he was would walk the 30-minute drive/15 miles through 2 feet of snow to see me....

I was alarmed and only convinced him not to by rescheduling for 6pm on the same day I was having dental work. Turned out he didn't have a car, so this was a double date with his friend driving us and they showed up 2 hours early, at 4pm. My face was still very numb from my 2pm dental work. The other couple went to a different movie and things weren't too bad until Dr. Watson's wedding scene, when Watson is hung over. This is when my date said, "Don't worry. That won't happen at Our wedding."

After the film we went to the Mongolian Grill with the other couple, where you get to cook your food at the table. If my face wasn't numb, this would have been nice...but the meat was chewy, and I could only use one side of my mouth. I was taking a long time and couldn't reply without biting my cheek, so I was quiet. My date was too busy staring at me chew to notice he caught some food on fire and I bit my cheek badly when bumped into by them trying to put out the fire. The other couple tried to minimize this by telling a story about seeing someone accidentally light the whole table on fire before.

I was relieved when dinner ended until they said my date had a work training for pampered chef...across the street. I was left at Barnes & Noble for an hour, my cheek bleeding and a mouth of pain as the numbness was finally wearing off from the dental work. My friends texted me to pass the time and make sure I was safe. Finally, my date showed up and said we could go. As we sat in the backseat, he tried to steal a kiss and asked for a second date....the couple in the front was listening. In the quietest voice I could muster I politely said, I only saw us as friends.

Now, you would think that the story was over at this point....but you would be wrong.

After this, the nightly calls continued and my father said I had to talk to my "boyfriend." He wouldn't turn down the calls or back me up when I said I didn't want to talk. My father said that my "boyfriend" got me a job I could do for a week as a door-to-door DOOR salesman. I declined.

A few days before I was returning to college, this guy showed up at my folks' house to do a Pampered Chef sales pitch that he arranged with my Father. My mom wasn't interested and left. After his pitch, my father invited him to stay for dinner and said he needed to get something at the store....leaving us alone.

I sat on the other side of the room from him and something made me sneeze, a huge and gross sneeze. I excused myself and rushed to the bathroom to clean up, kicking the door closed behind me only to discover that this guy had ran after me and INTO the bathroom.

I yelled at him to get out and close the door. He did...but waited behind the door for me to come out. At this point I was angry, but my father had left us alone and this guy had no car or way to get to his apartment unless he walked 15 miles. When I came out, I told him that following a woman who excused themselves INTO a bathroom/walking in on them when the door was closed was Unacceptable behavior and I wouldn't be speaking with him again. He did apologize, but I don't remember what he said. When my father returned I told him to see to His guest and I left the house.

Turns out my father was trying to play matchmaker. He said this guy reminded him of himself when he was younger. I then had to explain all the things wrong with following a woman into a bathroom, how barging in on someone in a private place wasn't acceptable "puppy-dog love" behavior...

And then I had to explain to the guy's grandma that no...we were not dating. At least his grandma was cool about it. And I never saw him again.