#hint: its about sherlock holmes

[onceinawhilemoon]

the stuff in M’s trash bin in room 227 is pretty interesting

- there's both the unfinished and finished versions of vogel's sketch of Sherlock :

- blue and red pastels/crayons, matching the colors of the markings on the map where M was tracking down Sherlock :

- an artist's mannequin. with a hole carved in its chest and rope tied around the neck, elbows, wrists, and oddly enough, only one ankle :

interestingly, the hole isn't made THROUGH the mannequin’s chest. at first i thought maybe someone shot at it with a small calibre gun but the back is intact. it's like the mannequin was used to hide something inside, then it was dug out with some tool? plus the wood looks a bit... charred? this is a strange one for sure.

[nyoomfruits]

hello there

your fics are so so so so SO good. So good in the sense that I clicked on it randomly, knowing very little about F1 but had some bad news and needed a distraction and read all the good main fics in my fandoms and got a huge upgrade by reading yours. thank you for that.

I think you might have written some of the best fics I've ever read. Have you ever considered writing a book because I would 100% buy it?

Uhh just thanks because your fics are perfection. I mean it. Despite how it might sound, I'm quite picky, so thank you and just woah you are incredible at writing. and awhw I get the soft gooey feels of cuteness when I read your work.

You've also got me into F1 so thanks for that?

I left guest kudos but I forgot my ao3 password but I needed to get my feelings through somewhere so cheers

(guess what fandom I'm originally from there is a hint somewhere :))

seeing as i also got into f1 through fanfic this feels v full circle lmao <3 anyway!!! welcome!!!! i hope you enjoy your time here :) also thank you for loving my fics i appreciate it <3

[hwanchaesong]

━⁠☞🍽️ Seventh Course: Picture perfect revenge, the definition of the burnt dessert that is brewing inside your unhinged mind. Well, he deserves it though. 🥢

🎧: Olivia Rodrigo - Jealousy, Jealousy

wc: 816

genre & warnings: angst, non-idol au, cheating, hints of insecurity, reader drinking wine, cursing, lovers to exes, etc etc

a/n: this is a part of The Sour Restaurant series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.

You scroll through your phone, sipping on your red wine and laughing to yourself. Giggling like a maniac because the ridiculousness of the situation is truly astounding.

It was a magnificent occasion, one that would normally make people cry but not you.

No, you are built differently.

The discovery that you dug made you so happy you think you're about to burst in excitement.

Because finally, fucking finally! Freedom is nigh and clean air will finally clear your black lungs.

You gaze at the clock, the man that you are waiting for will be home soon, and you are so fucking ready for a confrontation.

Soon enough, your boyfriend enters your shared apartment, jumping a little when he sees your figure in the shadows, indifferently sitting there with a menacing expression.

"Are you okay? Is something wrong?" he frowned when you replied with a scoff, slowly walking in your direction.

The entire living room is dark, the only source of light is the one from the hallway near your bedroom. It gives an ominous vibe in the atmosphere, exactly what you want to exude.

"Y/N, seriously, I don't have time for this. I j-"

You rolled your eyes at his audacity, shoving your phone in his face so he can gawk at the evidence of his betrayal.

He is nothing but a mere asshole in the entirety of this relationship, so thank the heavens for giving you a reason to leave.

Ever since he entered your life, his presence always gave you the sinking feeling of insecurity.

Paranoia at its finest, you could say.

It was all good at first. You can even say with confidence that he was the perfect boyfriend. He makes you feel like you're on top of the world, the only girl that he loves, the happiest person on earth.

But who knows what will happen, right?

His sublime image is merely a performance for you to enjoy and hate later on, especially when you start seeing the signs.

Going home to you smelling like a girl's perfume. Lipstick stain on the collar of his polo shirt. Being secretive on whatever is in his phone.

"Must be your imagination, baby."

"Oh this? This is nothing. I'll wash it later."

"Listen, privacy is also an important aspect of a relationship."

Fuck that privacy. You merely wanted to play games on his phone because waiting in line in his favorite restaurant bore you to death. Must he be so stingy?

Stingy because the shit excuse of a man was hiding something.

You have been tolerating his bland show for a while now, might as well give him a tip for giving you entertainment despite it not being worth your time.

"Tell me I'm crazy now." you smirk, victorious in the battle where you have been wounded far too many times to the point that you can't even bear to look in the mirror without wanting to vomit.

You've had enough comparing yourself to the girls that he hangs out with.

Girls that are way skinnier, comfortable in showing too much skin, wear make up like it's an extension of their body.

Then you saw this very suspicious lady that seemed to be a bit closer to your boyfriend than the others.

You can't help but be jealous of her pretty face, lavish lifestyle, and it seems like her friends love her so much.

But hey, you may be a tad bit insecure but you ain't a raging loser, you are ready to let your inner sherlock holmes out and prove a point.

"What was it again? You are not cheating and it's just all in my head?" here you are, showing him the proof of your hard work and catching him red handed.

Did he really think that you won't see him and that girl making-out in a photo that was posted by his friend a week ago.

No matter how pixelated it was or even if your eyesight is bad, you will definitely see it.

"Y/N, that is not what you think." he tried to explain, and you do not understand the reason for his panic as you confidently push him out of the flat.

"Wooyoung, I've seen, heard and smelled enough. I think it's time for you to shut the fuck up." you give him a fake smile, finally giving him a harsh strike on his chest that got him stumbling in the front of the apartment.

"Please, hear me out." he begs but no, your heart is not made out of cotton to listen to him.

Whatever befalls him, he deserves it.

"Go spend the night with your bitch and come back here tomorrow to gather your belongings while I'm at work. Goodbye."

You shut the door in his face, not paying attention to his knocks and pleas.

Finally, some peace and quiet in your mind, heart and soul.

taglist:

@acciocriativity @iarayara @stolasisyourparent @xdannix @nsixns @heartssol @vixensss @shakalakaboomboo

[avelera]

A Doylist Argument for Why Alice, Daniel's first wife, is NOT Armand in "Interview with the Vampire"

So I know the IWTV fandom has more or less made up its mind about "Armand = Alice" but I have to say, I am still not convinced. In my opinion, the discussion of how Armand knew what Alice was thinking that night was because Armand was spying on Daniel and Alice as a powerful telepath, all things we've known Armand to do, not because he was somehow Daniel's first wife and at no point did Daniel, an investigative reporter, in the present day recognize that Armand was Alice, his first wife who he would presumably have photos of.

Anyway, let's start from a Doylist angle. Doylist means, "from the creator perspective, analyzing from the point of view as the work of art as something created by people outside the universe of the story, ie, Arthur Conan Doyle wrote Sherlock Holmes, not John Watson who wrote the book in-universe."

First of all, it's pretty unusual for a show to outright lie to the audience. There used to be a whole script writing rule about it and if you look closely, it's very unusual in most TV shows for a character to outright lie unless the story is a mystery and unless the fact they're lying is well supported as being something the audience should be on the lookout for. But even when characters lie on tv, there's usually a bazillion neon signposts going, "The guy twirling his mustache and cackling is a liar!" and we're usually introduced to the actual truth at some point within the story.

Ok, all of that aside because I could talk about when and how and where and the nuances of writing liars into stories and why it's best generally avoided (unless it is the entire point, because audiences tend to take what they're told by a character at face value unless they're specifically told not to, etc etc.), IWTV by contrast with most tv shows is notorious for playing with lies and truth with this in very interesting ways.

Truly, I don't think I've ever seen a show lie to the audience as much as IWTV but even then, IWTV lies in very careful ways.

So, let's examine how IWTV depicts lies and subjective truth, and why I think this makes it unlikely that "Alice = Armand", which would be an absolutely gigantic lie to drop on the audience.

We always know that lies are going to be part of the story in IWTV. There's tons of support and scaffolding to the fact that the audience should know that this is a subjective story, that facts will be misrepresented and misremembered.

For example, it was an entire plot point with a long pay off that Lestat shouldn't have been able to communicate telepathically to Louis after he was turned and it was used to highlight that we should not take anything that happens in the flashbacks as objective truth. This has been told to us over and over and over again in this story.

This is so they can avoid the cheated feeling of a, "Gotcha!" Audiences do not like to be lied to but they do like to solve mysteries. If you're going to lie to the audience, you need to give them a chance to solve it. Generally speaking you accomplish this by telling them ahead of time what they should be looking out for and that there's a mystery incoming, you don't just "Rocks fall, everyone dies," dump it on them out of nowhere then laugh that they were too stupid to figure it out. That enrages audiences.

Now, it might seem like I'm contradicting myself here. "Avelera!" You might say, "We have it well established that something fucky is going on with Daniel's memories! A big red flag was raised that Armand has messed with Daniel too in the flashback to the 70s! We know from the books that Daniel and Armand had a relationship and the show is at least teasing that they had one in the show canon too! Isn't that enough to establish that Alice = Armand is a reasonable mystery that is being hinted at within the context of the story?"

And to this I answer, sure, it's reasonable. I think the number of people who are speculating that Alice = Armand is actually a point in favor of it being true, because a good established mystery should have enough hints that people can begin to put it together before it's confirmed.

But here are my personal hang ups about why it still doesn't feel quite right to me.

We have the fact that Daniel has ruined two marriages. This is set up early. Like, super early, in episode 1, before we even see the vampires. We also establish that Daniel's two marriages are with (presumably mortal) women and that he has 2 daughters. This is set up long before the themes and ideas around the subjectiveness and falsehood of memory are introduced. Generally speaking, you don't introduce a mystery before you introduce that there is a mystery. To my eyes, we were meant to see the details of Daniel's marriage and family life as objective truths about him that inform his character before the interview starts.

Even when we do get into Louis' interview, there is a strict dichotomy to the dreamy, subjective world of Louis' story and recollection, and the sharp reality and harsh brutalist lines of the apartment in the present day.

To my eyes, the meaning is clear: All flashbacks are suspect and subjective, but scenes that take place in the modern day are objective. They are really happening. We can speculate about what things like what the decor tells us about their mindsets and the way Armand and Louis present themselves to Daniel mean, but this isn't a dream or a lie or a framing device happening here. Modern day = objectively true.

Daniel talking about his two failed marriages and his daughters is not presented within the framework of the subjective interview flashback world. These are not facts we've been asked to question, these are the objective building blocks that tell us, objectively, where Daniel is coming from and why he's the bitter old man we see instead of the bright eyed interviewer seen in the IWTV film or books.

The very AU premise of IWTV from the books is that we are in a canon divergence world where Daniel was allowed to grow old, have a family, and have a successful professional life even if he never had a successful personal life. It is the way we are objectively meant to understand his point of view and other elements like his saltiness towards the vampires. It's how we're supposed to understand him as different from his book counterpart. I think it would be cheap to then pull a "gotcha!" about those, personally.

Now, there is a mystery introduced as far as Daniel's memory, recollection, and possible falsehoods in his own understanding of his life but those are questions like: "What happened after Daniel interviewed Louis the first time?" Which is part of the broader question of, "Why are we returning to the interview now?" Which also plays a bit into Daniel's broader questions of, "Am I going to survive this interview?" which is connected to the question of, "Why did I survive the first one?"

But those questions are generally raised and addressed within the flashback to the 70s, because flashbacks, as we've established, are (within the story of the IWTV show) where these doubts about objectivity are allowed to exist.

Note, that Daniel's 2 marriages and the existence of his daughters are not discussed in the flashbacks. What is discussed is, "Why did I survive that night in the 70s?" And we learn that Daniel's memories of that time have been tampered with, there's more to the story that it appears, and he had a moment of connection with Armand that he did not recall.

"But Avelera!" You say, "Is this not further proof of Alice being Armand if we establish that Daniel doesn't have the whole story and that he and Armand had a connection that he doesn't fully remember??"

I think it is a point in favor of the theory. I think it's a point in favor of the theory being a valid one to explore, but I'm still not sold because of a few reasons.

Armand has never:

Presented himself with feminine pronouns, never cast himself in a feminine light, never associated himself with the feminine.

Furthermore, Armand has never disguised himself as a woman. Disguise is a theme in the show, Daniel talks about how people put on disguises before he finds the truth of them. But if "Alice" is a way for Armand to disguise himself in Daniel's memory, it is not a disguise that bears any resemblance to the other disguises we've seen Armand wear throughout the show. It is not a theme for Armand, it is not related to his story. Armand is many things to many people, but he's never ever associated himself with the feminine.

Armand would not need to disguise himself as a woman in Daniel's memory for Daniel to plausibly remember having a relationship with Armand, because Daniel recalls having queer experiences in the 70s. If Daniel remembered a relationship with "Andrei", I'd be more inclined to believe he's substituted himself in Daniel's memories with a mortal. Going so far as to say, "Of these 2 women Daniel told us in the objective present that he's been married to, one of them was a man who was also Armand," just seems a bridge too far in tricking the audience for no apparent reason. To me, that feels like a cheap trick on the audience.

Now, what about those weird things Louis and Armand say about Alice when they're shaming Daniel with the memory of her?

Specifically: what about Armand knowing what Alice is thinking the night she turned Daniel down?

This is my biggest point of difference with those who theorize that Alice = Armand. After all, how could Armand know what Alice was thinking that night unless he was Alice?

To put it simply, I think he knows because he was stalking Daniel that night.

I think we are meant to go, "Wait, what??" when we hear that Armand knows what Alice was thinking that night. That conversation is mean to be a red flag when we're invited to notice that Armand and Daniel have more history together than we, or Daniel!, have been led to believe.

But we also know Armand is a powerful telepath. This is a hugetheme throughout the show.

And, personally, I'm big fan of Queen of the Damned the book. It is my personal theory that IWTV the show takes place in a world where Armand and Daniel had their "Devil's Minion" whirlwind romance in the 70s, but instead of Armand turning Daniel as he requested, he wiped Daniel's memories and then let him go.

IMO, Daniel continued life thinking that he'd lost his memories of the 70s due to drug binges, and then from the 80s onward lived a relatively normal life with his two failed marriages to mortal women, his two daughters, and his award winning career. That's the divergence point.

To me, it seems much more plausible based on everything we know about Armand, that after he "freed" Daniel from their relationship and "allowed" him to live a mortal life instead of "cursing" him with vampirism, that Armand continued to stalk Daniel. Because that's what Armand does. Even in the Devil's Minion chapter of QotD, he's constantly stalking Daniel to the point where all Daniel needs to do in a particular city to have Armand swoop in to save him is think about him really hard.

So to me, what I think that line of dialogue was setting up was not "Armand = Alice" it was, "Armand continued to stalk Daniel after their relationship ended and that is the red flag you're supposed to pick up on from this dialogue, not a convoluted masquerade where Armand replaced Daniel's memories of the relationship with a woman named Alice who at first rejected Daniel but then eventually agreed to marry him."

To me, Armand = Alice just seems too convoluted. It also seems too easy to disprove given that Daniel is an investigative reporter. You're telling me he doesn't have any photos with "Alice", his first wife? You're telling me that if Armand was Alice, Daniel's first wife, that he never looked at "Rashid" or Armand and said, "Wow, you remind me of you my first wife?" Because to me, that's the sort of line you drop (in a more subtle manner) if you want people thinking about Alice = Armand but there is nothing along those lines in the show.

Now, what about the line, "You felt safer holding her hand in Paris."?

That one is a bit of a head scratcher. That one I think does lend to the possibility that "Alice" was male, that "Alice" was Armand, because Paris is discussed as more queer friendly (even though we also have scenes of Louis and Armand receiving homophobic comments while in Paris so... idk, "more comfortable" doesn't mean it was truly accepting, much like Louis felt "more comfortable" being a man of color in Paris even if racism was still rampant, but I digress).

But I didn't take it as a comment on Paris being queer-friendly (and therefore Armand = Alice) at the time when I first watched that scene.

I took Louis statement there as much more of an attack on Daniel's hatred of Paris. Paris is the city of love. America is the country where Daniel lives and works and has his identity as a hard-ass American reporter. In Paris, though, he was able to relax and be in love, far away from his work. Daniel has now grown to hate Paris because Paris was the place where he was young and in love with his first wife, a relationship that ended badly.

I felt that Louis was more calling out Daniel's changing attitudes towards Paris, rather than implying that Paris was more queer-friendly so Daniel could be openly with his lover Armand.

TL;DR: Look, I think the theory of Alice = Armand has a lot to recommend it, but I still have my objections to it. I think it's too big of a trick to pull on the audience to say that investigative reporter Daniel Molloy wouldn't recognize Armand as his first wife upon seeing him. I think it's too big of a trick to pull on the audience because the identity of Daniel's wives has never been presented as a mystery to be solved. I think it's much more plausible that they were setting up that Armand has been stalking Daniel very closely over the years, not that he insinuated himself into Daniel's life under false premises as a woman, a disguise and identity he's never used before.

I think Alice is real. I think Armand is a stalker, and that was meant to be our take away from that conversation.

[witchersmistress]

Excuse me Professor

Hello my darlings, i ended up down a very dark road for awhile, im clawing my way back but grief is just awful. so this is me attempting to come back.

Triggers: forced orgasm, semi pulbic space, thigh riding and stimulation a dark sherlock holmes, [ despite his protest] pet names and secret deals.

word count: 1.2 k

“ Emily Weaver” jolted me from my dazed sleep, shaking my head to wake myself up as I looked at who called my name. Shit I dozed off in class, worse I dozed off in his. Professor Sherlock Holmes.. He was pinning me with a glare, his blue eyes heated. “ You will stay behind after class to talk about this inexcusable behavior”  he continued on with the lecture as I shrank my seat to avoid the eyes of my fellow students and peers.

The hour dragged as the bell rang, students lingered to see what would happen. “ I said class was dismissed, that means leave.” He was holding the door open as students ran out the door, he shut it with a slam, locking it behind him and closing the curtain. He walked to the bottom of the stairs “ Emily join me in my office please” he said opening another door as i walked down the stairs and passed him into his office. He had bookcases everywhere, filled with books and awards. His desk was filled with books, open and overlapping one another. “Sit” he demanded as he walked to a bookshelf pulling off his tie and undoing a few buttons of his shirt,  while pouring himself two fingers of an amber liquor  and downing it in one go. Pouring himself another one as he spoke “ What are we going to do with you?” he mused as he turned to face me “ I.. I don't know what to say, i am so sorry..” placing a hand on my shoulder, moving his hand across my collarbone, before grabbing at the base of my neck moving up my throat to my chin and tipping my head back to look up at him. Watching him take a sip of his drink. Opening my mouth to protest him, he leaned down, sealing his mouth over mine, opening it slightly, letting the liquor into my mouth. I drank it greedily, getting hints on vanilla and caramel with a hint of a smokey oak flavor. Panting as i down the last of it, sucking on his lip for just a little more. He pulled away and smiled wickedly at me. 

“ I was right, you are her my wicked girl” my heart dropped into my stomach..fuuuck he figured it out. He swung around the chair pulling me up by my neck as he sat on the edge of his desk pulling me between his spread thighs. He growled as he took  my face in his hand. “Tell me, is that why you are so tired in my classes? Because you are out dancing every night, making men crazy as you dance on that stage under the ultraviolet lights." His other hand made its way down the front of my blouse, undoing the buttons as he went, moving down to my skirt, he dragged my skirt up to my waist, exposing my garter belt and thigh highs.

He chuckled wickedly as he began to pluck at the straps holding up my thigh highs, as I pressed my thighs together, trying to surprise my desire, he  hummed in satisfaction, moving one of his thighs to separate mine. With minimal effort he wedged his thigh between mine until I was straddling his thigh, pushing it up into my throbbing core. I failed to conceal my whimper as I bucked my hips once before going still. He brought my face closer to his, removing the hand from my throat to the other side of my hip, as he began to move my hips  back and forth applying pressure ever so slightly. Pro.. profess..sser” i struggled with my words as he hummed wickedly “ yes my wicked girl” he crooned, his eyes darkened with lust and desire. My mouth went dry and I couldn't speak. I tried but nothing was coming out. Moving my hips faster, I began to whimper helplessly  as I watched the impressive bulge in his dress pants grow bigger. I could feel myself getting wetter by the second. 

“ i've know for a while now, watching you both on that stage and in the halls, you may be innocent but you can't fool me” i could feel the approach of my impending orgasm as he continued on “ part of me wanted to be good but my wicked Emily ,” i  nodded quickly not sure how long i could hold the tidal wave back. He slipped on of his long nimble fingers into my dripping pussy, i groaned and rolled my head back as he took that finger out and began to circle my clit in a slow and tortuous circle “ the devil on my shoulders wants to know if you’ve ever cum with my name on your lips” moving my arm to his shoulder to support myself as he leaned back, picking up speed as he continued to circle my clit. “ Yes.. yes.. Almost every night” he smiled was down right sinful and delectable. “  i want to hear you” i was at my breakpoint and i did not care that i was going to sound like a whiny girl begging for a new purse or phone. “ please, professor” he tsked me several times cocking an eyebrow as i tried again “ please sherlock” i could feel the dames break., i leaned forward into his neck and buried my face in his neck as he continued to finger my pussy relentlessly, just as my first orgasm ended, another one was right behind him as i pulled back from his neck, grabbing his face between my hands, pulling him close, kissing him as i rode out my second orgasm. He swallowed my moans as if he was a starving man, greedy and wanting more, my legs began to shake as he withdrew his finger, pulling away from our kiss, he licked his finger clean before pulling me back on for another kiss, grabbing both my thighs he wrapped  them around his waist as he stood,. Turning around and depositing me on his desk. 

Breaking our kiss, resting his forehead against mine as I begged for my legs to stop shaking. His hands where still on my thighs as he began to lower himself, moving my now wet panties to the side, flattening his tongue starting at the bottom, he licked upwards in  slow strokes and circled my clit with the tip of his tongue, before standing up and smiling at me like the cat that ate the canary. Moving my panties back into place and pulling down my skirt for me as he looked me in my eyes. “ You’ll only ever dance for me now, understand? Every night at 5pm you will meet me at my car and ill bring you to my home, were you will dance for me till i cant keep my hands off you and I’ll fuck lick and suck that pretty pink pussy till ive had enough. Do you understand me?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at me. I nodded “ Yes sir” . Something dark flashed across his features as he handed me my bag and scooped me up bridal style carrying me to his car. Buckling me into the passenger seat, I asked “ Where are we going?” a deep rumble echoed from his chest “ My wicked girl, i'm not done with you yet” he smiled as he drew a knuckle down my cheek, placing a soft kiss on my lips “ I expect you’ll miss your classes tomorrow" he winked, chuckling as he closed the door.

[22ndnervousbreakdown]

Which social media would Sherlock Holmes characters have, according to a discussion I had with my friends in the middle of a night a couple days ago. This is ACD Holmes I think but leaning onto Soviet movies somewhat.

(And yes I'm aware telegram isn't popular outside of russian-speaking internet but just let it be part of the joke i guess)

Holmes: a lot of fake accounts on every website ever, but the only place that he actually posts on for himself is his telegram channel about tobacco varieties that has almost no followers. When Watson learned that Holmes has telegram, he was pissed because he thought Holmes is there to buy drugs.

Watson: he's a really popular ao3 writer. Also has a tumblr blog and an insta where he posts pictures of food, pictures of Holmes and sometimes his drawings (which he photographs with a lot of random stuff in the background for "aesthetics"). He also created a number of "official" Sherlock Holmes accounts without telling Holmes and makes all the posts there himself.

Mrs Hudson: facebook, where she posts recipes, household advices and stuff like that, and occasionally grumbles about Holmes and Watson. Also whenever they do something that really pisses her off, she would list the flat for rent, but always take it down shortly.

Moriarty: tumblr where he mostly posts about maths and a personal website to advertise as a private math tutor. Also a private telegram channel that Holmes somehow managed to follow from a fake acc.

Lestrade: EVERY social media ever. Most notably, twitter, where he always gets in fights (especially with Holmes's fake accs). He also set up an official Scotland Yard tiktok where he just makes really bad edits of policemen just walking somewhere with some music and lots of filters on.

Irene Adler: Instagram. Also onlyfans where she posts really rarely and she's always fully clothed, but she still has like thousands on thousands of followers there.

Mycroft: an official twitter that he hired someone to manage. Also facebook.

Mary Morstan: She doesn't actually exist, it's just one of Holmes's fake Instagram accs where he posted pictures of "Watson's wedding" to escape rumours.

Sir Henry Baskerville: onlyfans with only one subscriber whose username is infusoria666. Everyone but sir Henry himself knows it's Dr. Mortimer. Also Dr. Mortimer tried to set up a travel blog for him but ended up having to post there by himself.

Dr. Mortimer: tumblr blog full of skulls and also a youtube channel. He's also one of the few people who follow Holmes's tobacco telegram, and probably its biggest fan. When they met, he mentioned his youtube channel a lot, hoping that Holmes will ask for a link, but he just ignored even the most obvious hints.

Also:

Baker Street irregulars all have tiktok. They force Watson to watch skibidi toilets.

Lestrade writes with a lot of errors and uses emojis excessively.

Moriarty writes immaculately with all the capital letters and punctuation and periods in the end of every sentence. Holmes does the same but with no capital letters.

Holmes followed Irene Adler from one of his female fake accs. She in turn followed his tobacco channel from a male acc, and commented under one of his posts recommending him to follow a blog on autism.

Once Watson posted a photo of his lunch on his insta and after that a photo of Holmes with a caption "desert :)" and refused to delete it.

Holmes made a youtube channel about beekeeping when he retired.

[bakerstreethound]

A Single Touch

Relationship: Sherlock Holmes x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ Smut, hints of soft (sub) husband Sherlock/dom Sherlock, gentle teasing, mentions of marking, tenderness, and feelings

Summary: A peaceful afternoon in 221B takes a turn when you become insistent on needing Sherlock's attention and he indulges.

All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound​ (Do NOT claim, copy, repost, or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03 under the same username) 

Word Count: 1.1k+

A/N: Hello my lovelies, I hope you are all well. I hope you enjoy this little treat for I adore Sherlock so and he deserves the love and attention even when he can be annoying. Special thank you to @strangelockd for beta reading and loving this story from its conception. She is now the official aunt of this fanfic. As always, comments and reblogs are most appreciated! Graphic by @firefly-graphics

You smile to yourself as you look around 221B, enjoying the rare peaceful afternoon on the couch, your favorite book discarded on the coffee table. Sherlock’s features are calm and relaxed and you grin despite yourself, knowing how much he hated to admit he liked this…whatever this supposed routine had become.

Your fingers ruffled gently through his curls, his breath coming steady, occasionally shuddering when you tugged harder on them to tease him. You gaze upon him fondly, watching his cheek quiver, lips pursing while he flips a page of his novel.

So that’s how it was going to be, then. You smile to yourself, for you do so love a challenge. 

Carefully you tug his curls once more, earning a raised brow in return, until you reach for the book, pulling it from his grasp, not before inserting the bookmark into place; you don't have the heart to dog ear the page like a heathen. 

“I was reading that,” he huffs, feigning annoyance, yet his eyes shimmer in mischief and mirth. 

“Yeah? What are you going to do about it? Surely you can think of something.” 

He shifts, sitting upright on the couch, watching you intently, dark fierceness flashing for a moment in his eyes. “I’ve considered no less than five options.” 

You smirk at his practicality and calculating mind, and shake your head in amusement, before you climb over onto his lap, swinging a leg over to straddle a thigh. Ever so slowly, you lean into him, pressing your lips to his forehead, relishing in the faint sigh he releases.

His grip on your waist tightens as you settle yourself fully, tracing a thumb along his lower lip. You relish in the widening of his eyes, the faint twitch of his cheek, mind, and body fighting to take over whatever impulses have him in a frenzy.

You adore the push and pull and could fall into it for eons. With him, every touch, every instinct of yours screams yes for it all is right, almost too good to be true. 

“Damn you.”

“Whatever for, dear boy?” You murmur not a care in the world, nuzzling his neck before grazing your tongue over a sensitive spot, relishing in the way his shoulders tense as he fights off a shiver. 

He says nothing else as you continue on your merry way, smirking to yourself at his reactions, the way he gripes your waist tighter, fighting off the anticipation of your lips latching on to his neck for what feels like the hundredth time.

Even if it is the hundredth time, he wouldn’t tire of it for a moment, for it is you, and that’s all he wants. 

You in every moment. 

It’s what you want as well, want to show him how much you love and adore him, how you can never get enough of him. How you deserved him you wouldn't know for he is everything to you and more.

You press another kiss to his waiting lips which accept you eagerly, your hands running down his torso, and you sigh. 

How was this your husband? 

He softly pressed a kiss to your lips and you gracefully fell into the feel of him, wanting to adore him. Your heart ached in kind, a mixture of melancholy and longing, desperation and want. It is your form of love, all because of him.

Through the years you count him as one of your greatest blessings, but the words catch in your throat when you try to speak them aloud.

You hope he knows, surely, he does for he’s the only one who braved your tumultuous shores, the depths of your heart, and still he stayed. 

He stayed unwavering and you as well through it all. Thoughts of these flood his mind, for he’s all too enraptured with your form, the way you melt into him, the way his nails dig deep into your waist. He jolts slightly at the praises that pull from your lips, a slight blush creeping along his cheeks at your words. 

“You don’t….that’s not…” he struggles to voice and you offer him a smile, kissing him once more, whispering your pleas in tandem. 

“Let me help you…” you sigh into him, tugging his lower lip, earning a low groan before shifting on his lap, his hands reading to your back, gripping you impossibly tighter. 

“Then I should help you, darling.”

You can practically hear the smirk in his voice, the teasing tone sending shivers down your spine in a delightful manner and you welcome it. You both require a reprieve and it starts with a single touch. 

One of love. 

One of need. 

One of desire. 

One of desperation. 

That’s how you find yourself an hour later on your shared bed, engulfed by sheets and the delicious heat of his lips on your own, tongue trailing along your body, his deep sonorous baritone edging you on. 

“I said every inch, my dear,” his voice rumbles from his throat igniting your body from the inside out, “Isn’t that right?”  Your shirt slides higher up your body as inch by inch your upper body is revealed to him and Sherlock smirks, delighting in the situation. 

You roll your eyes, shuddering as his hands grip you tighter, before pulling the rest of your shirt off, promptly discarding it on the floor, not a care in the world. His gaze bores into your back and you fight off a shiver to no avail.

You can feel his smirk searing to your back before he presses the gentlest kisses along your spine and you melt in kind before he sucks a mark, making you squirm. 

“Not…fair…”

“Nothing about you is fair,” he growls.

You groan in kind, letting him do as he pleases, pulling you impossibly closer to him, heat radiating between you, sending you aflame. It was only a shift of the hand, a brush against his wrist, and the tension filled him to the brim like lightning before it struck.

You shudder when his finger brushes back along your body, melting, completely undone by him and his embrace. He traces the marks he made along your spine, and you bite back another whimper, causing him to whisper in your ear. 

“I want to hear you make those pretty noises for me, alright?” 

You swallow, knowing he’s not asking and when he kisses you heatedly, you let yourself fall into the abyss and infinite as you’re made one, relishing in the warmth, and eternal bliss you fall into every time you’re here safe in his arms. 

All it takes is a single burning, aching touch. 

And you fall together. 

Down in the abyss where love and pleasure combine, something else you can’t quite fathom or remember, but it’s enough. All you could ever want and more; the gasped pleas from parted lips, hand entangled in those sinful curls, your bodies forever intertwined. 

******

[lowliest-manifestations]

Okay! I'm finally putting together some of my more specific Bending the Willow thoughts and this passage:

"Perhaps it was as Jeremy Brett noted: 'Women want to possess him, while men want to be him.' There is certainly some truth in that statement, but the idea is incomplete. I believe male readers not only identify with Holmes, but also experience, in the same way that D. H. Lawrence identified what he referred to as a 'blood consciousness' between men, a kind of spiritual closeness akin to love."

Is making me the kind of insane that makes me want to write like 17 essays. But in absence of the time needed to actually do that here are some of my main thoughts in a more disorganized fashion:

Overall I've noticed a really wild amount of gender essentialism within Sherlockian communities/ scholarship, and I know that a lot of that can be chalked up to the fact that even modern writings are done mostly by older white men, but I also think there's something about the text itself that encourages this. Sherlock Holmes is pretty fucking victorian about gender (Irene Adler occupies a weird space but I do not believe she is in any way exempt from those attitudes.) and I think sometimes scholars find themselves reflecting the values of a text that they do not want to admit is imperfect.

I think this passage pinpoints exactly how a lot of people gender their expectations of how reader are to interact with Sherlock Holmes and texts like it, and Sherlock Holmes in turn becomes kind of weird for women to interact with. For the most part people want to see themselves somewhere in the text, but women in particular are told that we cannot find ourselves within the main character. Some people may be fine with that, lots of people don't want to relate to Holmes and their enjoyment of the text does not come from seeing themselves in that particular character. Some women also genuinely want to relate to the text by fantasizing about being in a relationship with Holmes, and more power to them, but their feeling is not a default, no matter how hard anybody pretends it is.

The fact is that plenty of women do want to be Holmes, and they face an interesting dilemma if they are trying to hold that while still operating under the framework hinted at in this passage. Instead of projecting onto him directly they must find ways to be close to him, be a reflection of him, be him but a girl (without replacing him! don't worry!). I think that's why there's sooo much fiction out there about secret sisters, female apprentices, wit-matching lovers etc. (I myself would pretend to be Sherlock Holmes' secret daughter as a kid. I bought into this shit!)

This framework is also not particularly normal about men who may not see themselves in Holmes at all and who may, in fact, also be capable of fantasizing about having a relationship with him! Queer men exist! (within this passage in fact.) And I know Stuart Davies did not mean to acknowledge this when he wrote of "a kind of spiritual closeness akin to love." but he does put it somewhat homoerotically in a way that left me reeling a little bit.

I do understand the feeling described by Stuart Davies, even if the way he writes of it makes me laugh a little in its dramatics. I simply do not think it is a feeling exclusive to men... I don't think any feelings are exclusive to any gender. And in the end I think that's the idea that really frustrates me.

Of course this passage is also from 1996, it's a product of its time, I get it. I also know that people have had More expansive/critical/interesting ideas about Sherlock Holmes in relation to gender before and since it was written, and I don't think it reflects what everyone really believes. BUT I do think it hit the nail on the head of a phenomena I have noticed since childhood and affirmed that I wasn't imagining things. While also being. Kind of funny.

[hey-its-roseaurum]

Guilty until Proven Innocent-Part I

A/N: Hey everyone. Thank you for taking the time to look at this story. This is for a collaboration with @lainiespicewrites. She is an excellent writer and I figured it was my turn to stretch my writing muscles and put something out into the world. This is my first Henry Cavill fic, so please don't be too harsh. Anyways, enjoy!

Synopsis: After recent murders in town, You (Olivia) decide to train with Edith in the art of self-defense. In the middle of training, you got a mysterious knock on the door. Sherlock walks in, looking for assistance with his latest case. He offers you to partake in a partnership to help him in his latest case? Do you take it?

Warnings: mentions of death

“You’re progressing nicely Olivia.”  Edith smiled from above me, her elbow pinning me to the floor mat.  There wasn’t a hint of sweat along her forehead.  She had taken me down in less than a minute. The worst part was I thought I was going to land a hit on her this time.

”I’m beginning to think that you’re just saying that to soothe my pride”. I rasped out.  She had eased her hold on me and stood up, extending a hand.

”Nonsense.  Look how far you’ve come since you first stepped in these doors.  Pretty soon you’ll be able to hold your ground with me.”  She exclaimed as I grabbed her hand and hoisted myself up.  My back had long since started throbbing.

For the past few weeks, I have been meeting Edith at her office to train and learn self-defense.  Ever since the first girl went missing and was later found dead in the street I hadn’t been able to sleep soundly.  There were constant, nagging thoughts that made me question if I was going to be the next victim.  It had only gotten worse when they found the next girl a week later in the middle of an alleyway that I frequently visited.  Her throat had been cut. 

In London, it was ill-advised for a woman, especially of noble birth, to consider something as trivial as self-defense.  Women are supposed to be soft, elegant, and passive. All of the trouble and responsibility in making decisions was for the men. 

 Being passive and soft didn’t save those girls from their cruel end.

And I wasn’t going to let myself become like them.  I refuse to be the next girl that falls victim to this.  So I went to my dear friend Enola at her detective agency and inquired about a solution to my predicament.  She sent me over to Edith and had me start training the next day.  I’ve been training every day since then.

I’m still not really good at it.

”Did you say the same thing when you were teaching Enola?”  I inquired as I dusted myself off.  Edith only shook her head.

”Not exactly.  Her response was more witty, thanks to her mother.”  Eudoria Holmes, the mother, the fire starter as people liked to call her.  I’ve seen her wanted poster splayed all across London.  But I didn’t see her as a criminal.  I saw her as the woman who saved my life six months ago.

That morning had been cold and bitter.  I remember feeling my fingers grow numb while I huddled against a mailbox.  Its red paint had chipped away at its base, leaving rust behind.

Which was ironic and poetic now that I think back on it.  And let me explain why.

It all started when my father had recently passed from a sickness that left my mother and me penniless.  With no man in the house and no money to our name, we were cast out of society.  My mother and I were thrown out and the estate that I called my home.   It was sold to another noble family in the south.

We lived off the street after that.  My mother, using what knowledge she had of needlework, had acquired a job as an assisted seamstress.  I was left to salvage whatever pity people gave me and half-rotten food from dumpsters.

Eventually, we were able to afford a small cottage on the outskirts of town.  It was small, run-down, and often had a damp smell to it.  Mother didn’t like to be there for a long period.  She claimed it was because she was so busy with her duties to the seamstress that she didn’t have time to spend there.  I think it was because she missed her life at the estate and living in this small broken cottage was too much for her to bear.

That morning six months ago I decided to go into town to fill my water bucket and get bread before it got too crowded.  When I got there, I sat down by the mailbox to wait for the bakery to open.  I was particularly annoyed when I saw a lot of people around this early in the morning.

I was watching a man get onto a carriage when something shifted from the corner of my eye.  It had been a man, or what I thought was a man walking towards me with a package in their hand.  When we made eye contact I didn’t think anything of it.  I just watched them and noted how stiff they walked. They placed the package in the slot of the mailbox.  Before I knew it, I was grabbed by the elbow, hoisted upright, and pulled away from the mailbox.  

That mailbox exploded, releasing a whirlwind of fliers into the air.

The two of us had run from the police.  I was forced to since they refused to let go of my hand.  We ran until this stranger knew that they weren't being followed.  

When things settled down, the man revealed that they were a woman in disguise.  She introduced herself as Eudoria Holmes and then proceeded to lecture me about being near explosives as if she were my own mother.  All I had wanted to do was bite back, to lecture her on how she shouldn’t be putting explosives where there were people.

Instead, I broke down, not from her lecturing but because of something I couldn’t quite place. All I knew was that I was waiting for a soggy piece of bread and nearly got blown up.

In the end, I told her everything.  I told her my past, my current situation, and why I was even in town in the first place.  One thing kind of led to another.  The next thing I knew I was sitting in Eudoria’s house with a cup of tea in my hand.

I stayed in that damp cottage less and less as time passed and more at Eudoria’s warm, often chaotic home.  That’s where I became friends with Enola, had briefly met her two brothers Sherlock and Mycroft, and felt somewhat happy.  

I don’t know why she pulled me away from that mailbox.  The one time I asked her she said she saw something in me, some sort of fire in my eye.  She didn’t want it to go out along with the mailbox.

I didn’t believe her, but I couldn’t tell that to her.

“So what you’re trying to say is that I still have a long way to go,” I asked as my brain jumped back to the present.  I stepped away from the mat and made my way into her office.

”What I’m saying is you’re doing better than you think you are.  You just began learning.  Give yourself a little credit.”  Following me, she made her way to the table by the window.  A stack of teacups were messily stacked up to one side.  She grabbed two, placed them on saucers, and poured liquid into both.  

“I know.  I’m just…worried.  It’s been a week since the last victim was found and the police still haven’t found the suspect.”  I let out a sigh and sipped some of my tea.  I needed a moment to choose my words carefully.  “I just want to be…prepared.”

A heavy pause filled the air before either of us spoke.  

”Olivia…there’s more to that, isn’t there?” Edith’s words were soft and gentle.

“I mean I-“. My response was sharply cut short.

A knock pulled our attention away from our conversation and to the door.  A tall man entered from the training room and to Edith’s office.  I couldn’t place if he looked tall because of his size, or because of the giant top hat sitting snugly on top of his head.  Dark wavy strands of hair peaked through from under his hat. 

”Have you any sense what time it is?”  Edith interrogated, crossing her arms.  The man took off his hat, revealing thick brown locks.  His sculpted jawline and nose complimented the hair.  Blue, mesmerizing eyes glanced around, investigating.

But the feature that I recognized right away from him was his shoulders.  I knew those shoulders.

”Hello, Edith” His attention briefly shot to me “Olivia”  I curtly nodded, averting my eyes.

”Good evening Mr. Holmes.”  I responded softly.  “With what do we owe the pleasure of your company?” Holmes.  Sherlock Holmes.  One of Enola’s older brothers. One of the greatest detectives I’ve ever seen.

”There’s no need for formalities Olivia.”  I felt something warm begin to grow on my cheeks at his response.  He’s only being polite Olivia.  We are only acquaintances because of Enola and Eudoria.  He doesn’t like you like that.

Or does he?  

I’m not sure.

Sherlock Holmes is a difficult man to understand.

“What are you here for Sherlock?”  Edith asked again, harsher this time.  Her tone quickly pulled me back to the present and away from my thoughts.  

Sherlock cleared his throat, his blue eyes revealing some sort of inner turmoil within himself.  It was an unusual amount of emotion that I was not used to seeing.  I expected it with Mycroft, he practically wore his emotions on his face at all times.  Sherlock never did.  He’s always been composed, and proper.  Before me now he still was, but a layer of some sort had been chipped away.

”I….need your help.”  He struggled to say the words like it was almost painful to him.  A moment of silence clung in the air.  

”Is it about Enola?   Did she get herself into trouble?”  There was a hint of concern in Edith’s voice when she begged the questions.  The only response he gave was a small shake of his head. I watched as realization flashed on her face. 

”There’s something about this case-“. 

”That deduction cannot solve?”  Edith finished his thought.  He slightly nodded, setting his hat down on her desk.  That was my cue. I softly placed my teacup down and made my way to the table by the window.  I began making some tea for Sherlock while listening to the conversation.

”I may need your…skills to get information from a place I cannot enter.”

“What kind of place?”  He listed off a name that I didn’t recognize.  Edith’s face slightly reddened.

”A showgirl theatre?! You cannot ask me such a thing Sherlock, no matter how close we are.”  My eyebrows raised as I grabbed a cup and saucer and poured some tea into the cup.

“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t have another option.  A woman’s life is at stake.” His tone was calm, but there was something else there.

”But going into this with the possibility of getting murdered is not something I’m comfortable with.  Woman’s freedom and rights is one thing, going after a serial killer is a whole other matter entirely”

”Edith, I-“. I cut them off.

”I’ll do it.  I’ll go instead of you.”  In their arguing, I had made my way back to the two of them, Sherlock's tea in hand.  I had left mine behind.

”Olivia, do you know what kind of place that is, what situations you can get into.  You’re nowhere near ready to hold your ground”. What she said was like a punch to the gut.  

I knew I wasn’t ready, we had that same conversation not thirty minutes ago.  But I knew that if Edith went and something bad had happened to her Enola and Eudoria would be devastated.  I was different.  If I went and something happened to me, Edith would still be here training more girls like me.

”Who else is going to do it?  Enola?  She’s not expendable. I am.  And Edith, what about the other girls you train?” I took a breath, the stubbornness in me growing. “Besides, I know these streets better than anyone.  I’ve lived in them.  I know where to go in case I’m being followed.   And because of the way I look,”. I paused briefly looking down at myself, at my curvy, plump figure.  “No one would suspect me.  They would just see me as a showgirl trying to make ends meet.  I can blend in, go undercover, and get the information that he needs in order to catch this murderer.”

A heavy pause hung between the three of us.

I let what I said sink into the two of them.  I know that Edith is fighting with herself on whether she can let me go.  She believes that I am her responsibility, and I kind of was while Eudoria was undercover.  But since starting to learn to defend myself I told myself that I couldn’t sit and wait.  Sitting and worrying about who the next victim is going to drive me crazy.  If I can help and make a difference, then maybe the suspect will be caught before there’s more tragedy.  

”I promise I won’t let anything bad happen to her.”  Sherlock’s voice broke the silence and my inner thoughts.  “You have my word.”  His eyes met mine at his.  I felt something else there besides the promise.   Edith sighed,  rubbing her temples with both her index fingers.

“Okay, Sherlock.  Just…make sure she comes back in one piece.”   Edith finally concurred.  “You’re going to have to speak to your mother if you don’t.”

A smile tugged at my lips at the agreement.  I finally raised the cup of tea, offering it to him.    

”When do we start?”

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

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. If you want to read @lainiespicewrites story about Paul Atreides from the Dune Sage, here is her link: https://www.tumblr.com/lainiespicewrites/747032352877903872/the-atreides-era?source=share

[golden-earcuffs]

Pitching Shows to GMMTV [1/?]

Here, I ramble about some show ideas that I have and gmmtv should make because I need to see them being made. Lots of fangirling and heaps of delulu logic ahead!

Tagging: @dallasthetimetraveler

1. World’s Greatest Detective

GMMTV should make a series on Sherlock Holmes and call it “The Detective and The Doctor”. He is famous, interesting, and most importantly, queer. Why haven’t they capitalised on him yet?

It’s a surprise that they haven’t made this show yet. Ever since the copyright lifted, I was expecting some production company to make Sherlock Holmes explicitly queer and in love with Dr Watson (looking at you, RDJude). But since no one has done it (apart from “Furtive Festivity” and no, “The Irregulars” does not count), GMMTV has the golden opportunity to be the pioneer. The company is known for making QLs, then having a spin on the obviously queer detective–doctor duo will be iconic. 

I also think it will be a very profitable choice? Given that Sherlock is an insanely popular character among international fans and has also been a recognized part of fan culture. It was actually his stories that introduced me to the queer media.

I know it will be yet another adaptation, but hear me out. They don’t have to copy the stories as they are. It would not be a remake so one won’t know the story beforehand. And since Sherlock Holmes is public domain, they can just upload the show on YouTube (unlike “Cherry Magic”, “F4: Boys Over Flowers” etc)

And it will be relatively easy, a new case per week, while hinting at a bigger villain in the initial episodes and then setting him up for the finale (I know “Petrichor” is doing something similar but every mystery show isn’t about the consulting detective.) Sherlock Holmes is a character that works in every era– 1890s, 20s, 90s or the modern day, if you manage to capture his essence. Sherlock Holmes can be anyone from a 90 year old British man, a Japanese woman in her 20s or a pre–teen Canadian girl. 

I know GMMTV doesn’t make a lot of 2nd seasons (“TGG”, “Still 2gether” and now “Only Friends: Dream On” being some exceptions, and while “The Enigma 2” was announced, we know nothing else about it) but honestly? If they make this show, I hope they don’t stop at only one season. Milk it properly. Gimme like five seasons with six episodes each (no, it’s not a lot. “Granada Holmes” had 36 episodes, “CBS Elementary” had 154 episodes in total, spanning over 7 seasons).

The thing is, they have enough content to make it long. Plenty of source material (4 novels and 58 short stories is no joke) and several adaptations to draw inspiration from. Asian ones too– “Miss Sherlock” and “Sherlock: Untold Stories”. I watched the former and it was so good. A Thai adaptation will be thrilling if they utilise the local stories and settings and have a good direction. 

And that’s the thing.

They’ll need a very good director (and writing team) to pull it off. Mystery and plot twists are hard to do, if I take examples, “Not me” revealing Todd as the villain wasn’t shocking (perhaps they weren’t going for it), “The Gifted Graduation” overdid it with it’s plot twist after plot twists and the secret weapon suspense in “Home School” was straight up bad.

However, I’m sure they can pull together a good team to work behind the cameras. I hope a team that actually likes the characters and is willing to tell a good story. There is no scarcity of great detective shows, what makes Sherlock Holmes special is its characters. 

I want GMMTV to make it because I know for sure that they won’t queerbait me. They won’t make Sherlockians like me cry like the BBC version or leave us hanging like the Ritchieverse. No, they’ll have Mr Holmes and Dr Watson make out hotly in 221B Baker Street as soft violin plays in the background. 

Now, onto the Fancasts, because I obviously have some.

I want to see Sing Harit as Sherlock Holmes. Call me biased but I love him AND he’s a great actor whose potential GMMTV hasn’t fully utlised and that drives me insane. I just want to see him play a serious character without being the villain or the pervert.

helppp i cannot decide on a watson fancast

Either Namtan Tipnaree or View Benyapa would make a fantastic Irene Adler. And if they want to treat fans, they can genderbend Godfrey Norton and have her played by Film Rachanun. 

I watched that last one scene from “Home School” and since then Khaotung Thanawat as Prof. James Moriarty is stuck in my brain. He’ll be effortlessly good.

Also, Ohm Pawat as Col. Sebation Moran? I’ve seen people complaining that he’s been in too many serious roles and not to typecast but Ohm would work perfectly in action roles.

This post got way longer than I expected and I got to talk about only one potential show. I’m ending it here so more parts of pitching shows to GMMTV will probably come.

[lumilescense]

Why Sherlock Holmes's Introduction Scene is Important to his Autism Coding

Ive made several sherlock holmes posts now so obviously i now have to talk about autism-

Im not an expert in autism for starters but i did discuss this with many people and it was one of the clearest scenes i remembered when judging Sherlock adaptations. I would dare to say Holmes's introduction is one of the most important scenes to his autism-coding, and that when adaptations fail to realize its importance, it also tends to reflect on how they code Holmes.

We hear about Holmes before we see him. The description of him is more than a bit negative and uncomfortable at this time, with Stamford being overcautious and warning Watson about Holmes's tempers. While i cant read this now without the pop culture knowledge of Holmes, I suppose it was to build up tension as to what sort of strange scientist he would be.

Yet when we meet Holmes, hes doing some chemical work. When he spots Watson and Stamford, he immediately runs over to them and excitedly shows them that hes made a chemical that detects hemoglobin. He only briefly brings up Watson's military career, just the barest hint to intrigue us.

He then starts rambling excitedly and passionately about how his chemicals work. He goes into the effect they have on his job, and criminal justice as a whole. Him infodumping about his passions is a fantastic introduction by the way, but some people skip it or place more focus on extending his deductions of Watsons life. This introduction does a lot to show how overall passionate he is about his work, and that it is what he cares to be speaking on (this is one of the rare times we see him out of case mode).

I think its worth it to note that while the scene is written with hints of Watson being overwhelmed, he seems willing to go along with whatever Holmes is saying. Basically, while he finds Holmes's demeanor odd, he still tries to engage positively and follow what Holmes is saying.

They also exchange things each other should know as roommates, both relatively cheerful and relaxed about it. Watsons behavior is what i consider also important for his characterization, but i am here to talk about Holmes (oh just you wait watson-)

The thing is, this introduction is one of the most humanizing depictions of Holmes. While he is talking about crime, this shows early on he has interests related to it that arent just "deduction." It is also a very active conversation from him! He infodumps incredibly excitedly, projecting more than he seems to normally, interrupting Watson several times, and forgoing social convention.

This can be seen in direct contrast to how Stamford introduces him, showing the humanity and passion behind what he described. It gives us an even broader view of Holmes from the get go.

Holmes's introduction codes him as autistic by showing what he looks like when *excited*

The fact the first thing we get to see of this character is his overwhelming care and passion for his work is not only important to his character, it should be the basis for his autism coding. He is excited! He gets overwhelmed with how he likes his work! He forgets not everyone else knows what he does! He wants to show, share, and explain it to everyone in good humor!

To me, that is something ive experienced with every autistic person ive known, and the details of it are so, so instrumental

[koalatysleep]

I wish the RDJ Sherlock Holmes / JL John Watson movies were still on Netflix so I can rewatch them whenever I want to!

The last time I rewatched them, I fangirled so hard my heart felt like it was gonna burst

There's so much delicious subtext between Holmes and Watson, and even the action sequences were character-building or plot-advancing.

The piece de resistance is of course the off-the-chart chemistry between RDJ's Holmes and JL's Watson.

And the movies very sophisticatedly shows us Holmes' and Watson's feelings for each other, instead of telling us outright. As they say, "Show, don't tell" - it's one of the hallmarks of great story telling.

There were so many delightfully romantically coded scenes like this one:

I love how much was conveyed about the characters & their relationship in just 1 scene:

- Holmes had eschewed the companionship of all other human beings by choice & secluded himself in his room for weeks on end to wallow over Watson's impending engagement, but an appearance from the one person he treasures above all others is enough to immediately draw Holmes out of his wallow/strop & get him re-engaged 100% with Watson

- Holmes literally crawls to Watson to sit at his feet! This visual analogy shows us that while most people mistakenly think that Holmes holds all the 'power' in their relationship coz he's the intellectual superior, Watson holds just as much sway coz just the thought of Watson's impending engagement has brought Holmes to his knees. (Plus Holmes sitting at Watson's feet hints at Watson being the Master of Holmes' heart, an analogy that is carried into the 2nd movie when Holmes plays his final chess match against Moriarty and Holmes sacrifices his 2nd most valuable piece (the Queen piece, which is an analogy for Holmes' own life) in order to save Watson, the King of Holmes' heart and the most valuable person in Holmes eyes. But this deserves another post of its own, back to movie 1! )

- even though Holmes is sitting at Watson's feet, due to the clever framing, we never get the sense that he is lesser than Watson, and this shows us that Holmes and Watson are equals in their partnership.

- when Watson sits on the chair after handing Holmes the papers, Holmes was propping his arm up on Watson's thigh to read the papers (this is slightly out of frame but one can deduce from the closeness of their positions). Love the casual physical intimacy here, which also establishes the deep bond and absolute trust between Holmes and Watson.

- both of them obviously looks sad thinking about their "last case together"

- Holmes coyly asks to be wooed out to dinner by Watson by playing up his ennui with the dramatic line "there is nothing out there in the entire world for me", then in the same breath, Holmes immediately overturns that with his responses to Watson sounding him out for a night out together. This is Holmes playfully & coyly letting Watson know that he feels neglected and wants Watson's attention ;) Love the witty repartee & dialogue between Holmes & Watson, and how flirtatiously RDJ played this!

- Watson knowing Holmes so well that he knows what Holmes is really asking for (a dinner date), and using that to manipulate Holmes into meeting Mary. Outsmarting Holmes gives Watson a thrill I'm sure ;)

- Watson leaves after revealing that he hasn't proposed to Mary yet coz he "hasn't found the right ring", but this hints at his underlying hesitation coz of Holmes' obvious disapproval. It's very telling that later on in the show, he gives Mary the ring that Holmes gave him - "the right ring" is Holmes' tacit acquiescence

Then we get the dinner with Mary scene which also has delicious subtext:

- while Holmes waits for Watson and Mary to arrive, we see Sherlock getting overwhelmed by the sheer data coming his way. Holmes doesn't usually lose control like this, he's usually able to take in the data without getting overwhelmed. This hints at Holmes' emotional state & anxiety about the meeting with Mary. We see him retreat into his mind to try to block out the overwhelm.

- Watson calling Holmes' name is what brings Holmes out of his overwhelmed state, and John can see immediately that Holmes is not feeling well & is visibly worried about Holmes. In fact, Watson's attention is almost solely on Holmes for the next few minutes - he's watching Holmes exclusively while Mary speaks. This little detail speaks volumes about the priority and place Holmes has in Watson's heart. The dialogue between Mary and Holmes cleverly highlights this -

Mary: "it can seem a little far fetched, making these grand assumptions out of such tiny details"

To which Holmes replies "That's not quite right isn't it. In fact, the little details are by far the most important".

Love the 4th wall dialogue here!

- Then Mary and Holmes engage in a thoroughly entertaining pissing contest under the guise of civil conversation to stake their claims on Watson & one up each other.

Holmes: "Take Watson"

Mary: "I intend to"

To one up this, Holmes proceeds to demonstrate the liberties he's allowed to take with Watson's person as he unsheaths Watson's sword to highlight John's strengths (🤣 not even gonna go into the obvious homoerotic subtext of the sword here), then reaches into John's pocket to pull out the boxing match stub to highlight that he knows John intimately well, gambling warts & all, and he still loves, wants & accepts John even though John's shortcomings have "cost us the rent a few times"

Mary then tries to regain the upper hand by asking Holmes to deduce her, hoping he'll make mistakes since she's a stranger, and it's interesting that she knows Watson hasn't told Holmes much about her, even though she's heard so much about Holmes from presumably Watson.

Holmes quite gallantly tries to dissuade her from this course together with John, but she insists, which Holmes pounces on as his get-out-of-jail-free card 🤣

Love this verbal sparring between Mary and Holmes, and how the subtextual clues of what the characters say and do subtly reveal what they're really communicating to each other ("John Watson is mine, back off!")

- We then find out that Watson was not Mary's first choice for a husband, just like Mary is not first in Watson's heart either. Her first fiance died, and she still loves her first fiance that it still hurts now, just like Watson still loves Holmes.

In any case, I digress. I love the RDJ Sherlock Holmes movies is what I'm saying, coz these are really top notch movies with fantastic acting choices from both RDJ and JL, as well as the supporting cast, great dialogue, spot-on characterisation for Holmes and Watson, and every scene serves to build character, plot, and reveal something about the characters' feelings, which they never need to explicitly talk about, because the subtextual clues like what we have in the scenes above speak loud & clear for anyone who knows how to look, like Holmes himself ;)

Really well done and thoroughly entertaining movies, my favourite films from Guy Ritchie!

If only I can still access the full movies! Would so love to do more in depth analysis like this!

[girl-next-door-writes]

Now and Then

Characters: Mycroft Holmes x reader

Summary: A bustling airport lounge had Mycroft contemplating the future and what his life could become with you.

Word Count: 1383 word

Prompt: Airport. Seeing them with kids/baby. Making you taste test. “You know you’re stuck with me, right?”

A/N: This is the penultimate part of my Build-A-Festive-Fics so thank you to the utterly brilliant @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek who put these prompts together for the lovely Mr Holmes. This can be seen as a second part to my first Build-A-Festive-Fic is you like.

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

Another year, another airport. There were times Mycroft wondered if it wouldn’t be more economical to invest in a private jet. The airport lounge at Christmas was a festive oasis amidst the hustle and bustle of holiday travel. As travellers awaited their flights, the lounge became a haven of seasonal cheer and comfort. Twinkling lights adorn every available surface, casting a warm and inviting glow throughout the space. Garlands of pine and red ribbon drape elegantly over counters and railings, infusing the air with the nostalgic scent of Christmas.

A towering Christmas tree, adorned with an eclectic mix of ornaments, took centre stage, its branches sparkling with lights and reflecting the colours of the season. Beneath the tree, carefully wrapped presents create a sense of anticipation, adding to the overall festive ambiance. Soft instrumental renditions of classic holiday tunes play in the background, creating a melodic backdrop that adds to the joyful atmosphere.

Mycroft lingered by the bar, a gentle smile gracing his lips as he observed you near the resplendent Christmas tree. You stood with a small girl in your arms, enthusiastically pointing out the various types of decorations that adorned its branches. There was a warmth in your interactions that tugged at his heart, an ache that had become all too familiar in recent times. The sight of you with the child painted a poignant picture of familial bliss, a scene that both touched and unsettled him in equal measure.

Sherlock's deep voice sliced through Mycroft's contemplative silence, injecting a note of teasing smugness. "Thinking about the future, brother mine?"

"I was simply observing," Mycroft replied, his tone steady, though a subtle softness lingered beneath his composed exterior.

Sherlock, ever perceptive, leaned into the banter. "Observing the love of your life holding a small child and absolutely not wondering about what that might look like if you had one of your own."

Mycroft's lips tightened imperceptibly, a flicker of irritation crossing his otherwise impassive features. "It had not even crossed my mind," he declared with a carefully measured hum, attempting to deflect the conversation away from the unspoken thoughts that lingered in the recesses of his mind. Yet, a keen observer might catch the hint of vulnerability in his eyes, betraying the depth of emotion stirred by the scene before him.

In the quiet recesses of his mind, Mycroft found himself entertaining the notion of what life might be like with a little one in tow. The prospect of sharing knowledge, moulding a young mind, and experiencing the unpredictable chaos that parenthood promised had begun to weave itself into the fabric of his contemplations. An unexpected warmth enveloped him at the mental image of guiding a curious mind through life's intricacies, embracing the potential chaos as a welcomed disruption to his meticulously ordered existence.

Despite these musings, Mycroft had yet to broach the subject with you. The various paths to parenthood lingered unspoken, a myriad of possibilities silently contemplated but carefully kept in the realm of his private reflections. Whether through traditional means, adoption, or other avenues, the desire for a family remained a quietly nurtured aspiration within Mycroft's heart.

Sherlock chuckled knowingly, taking a sip of his drink. "You may fool the entire everyone else, brother, but you can't fool me. You're a romantic at heart, even if you hide it beneath layers of bureaucracy. You are not the Iceman you once were."

Mycroft shot him a stern look, but Sherlock merely raised an eyebrow in response. The truth was, Mycroft Holmes, the enigmatic and powerful government official, had a softer side that few were privy to. The prospect of family, of a life beyond the intricacies of political manoeuvring and clandestine operations, was something he couldn't help but entertain since you had entered his life.

As you approached with Rosie and John, Mycroft smoothly shifted the conversation. "And what have you been conspiring about over there?" he asked, his tone impeccably composed.

You grinned, the little one in your arms giggling. "We were just discussing the best strategy for decorating the tree. It seems you have a budding interior designer on your hands, John. She has very definite ideas about what belongs on a tree."

Mycroft's gaze softened as he looked at the two of you, a twinge of warmth in his eyes. "Indeed, it appears so. Perhaps we should let our young prodigy take the lead in the decorations next year."

Sherlock smirked, detecting the subtle shift in Mycroft's demeanour. "I never thought I'd see the day when my brother willingly allowed his home to be decorated for the festive season. It seems we have a Christmas miracle."

Your laughter echoed through the air as you handed little Rosie over to John, a sense of warmth lingering in the atmosphere. Placing a gentle hand on Mycroft's arm, you remarked, "It's a season of surprises, after all."

Meanwhile, Rosie, in her father's arms, couldn't contain her curiosity, her tiny hands reaching for the enticing display of sugar cookies on the bar. Without hesitation, you purchased one, starting to unwrap it before a thoughtful pause crossed your face.

"Oh, do you think these might be a little too sweet for her? Mycroft, darling, can you try a bit?" You turned to him, holding out the cookie, expecting him to automatically acquiesce.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow, a mild protest forming on his lips. "Me?"

With a playful grin, you teased, "Well, you are the one with the sweet tooth."

The accusation, albeit light-hearted, was one Mycroft couldn't deny. With a small sigh of mock frustration, he broke off a corner of Rudolph's ear and placed it into his mouth. Chewing thoughtfully, he declared, "Not as sugary as one might think, given the season."

John accepted the cookie gratefully, making his way to an empty table where Rosie eagerly indulged in the festive treat. As you and Sherlock observed the adorable scene, Mycroft slyly purchased a couple of cookies for himself, slipping them discreetly into his jacket pocket.

Sherlock sauntered over to join John and Rosie, his penchant for imparting unconventional knowledge evident as he began explaining to the small child the reasons why Rudolph might be a female reindeer rather than male. Mycroft, standing nearby, couldn't help but wear a bemused expression as he watched his eccentric brother engage with the little girl.

"Your brother is infuriating, but he is surprisingly good with children." You mused, leaning against Mycroft and letting your arm slip around his waist.

"Unnervingly so," Mycroft replied, his attention momentarily divided, a faint frown forming on his usually composed features.

Sensing a slight distraction in Mycroft's demeanour, you decided to break the quiet moment with a question, hoping to offer some reassurance. "You know you're stuck with me, right?"

The unexpected inquiry caught him off guard, and Mycroft looked down at you, raising an eyebrow. "I am not 'stuck' with you; that would imply I am unhappy with the arrangement. I rather fear it is you who is 'stuck'."

Your laughter filled the air, and Mycroft couldn't help but allow a small, fond smile to grace his lips. The banter, the shared moments, and the ease with which you complemented each other had become an integral part of his life—a fact he wouldn't trade for anything.

Your words carried a tender sincerity that caused a subtle shift in Mycroft's usually composed countenance. The glint in your eyes hinted at a depth of understanding that made him wonder if you had somehow glimpsed his recent musings.

"I think you would be a rather brilliant father, just so you know," you declared nonchalantly, your eyes twinkling with genuine affection.

Mycroft, momentarily caught off guard by the heartfelt compliment, allowed a softness to touch his features. "Perhaps that is a discussion for the New Year. Right now, we have to sit through an eight-hour plane journey with a toddler."

His attention returned to Rosie, who was thoroughly engrossed in creating a masterpiece on Sherlock's shirt with crumbled cookie and icing. The amusing chaos brought a small smile to Mycroft's face, a silent acknowledgment of the unpredictable joys that parenthood might bring.

"First things first," you agreed, acknowledging the immediate reality of the plane journey ahead and the shared journeys which might present themselves in the not too distant future.

[mary-johnlocked]

Johnlock in :

the adventure of the two stain

in this case we note that ACD hint at Watson's appreciation for men , and openness to admire beauty and elegance with his artist's eye regardless of the gender , which is , back in his time , quite unusual

while he never missed emphasizing on his deeper fascination and admiration with/of Sherlock's wonderful eyes

he often refers to them as keen eyes , grey eyes , wonderful eyes , ect

(or his hands , and long legs , and sinewy neck )

Ah ! the famous " the fair sex is your department " ;)

still in the adventure of the two stain , Watson's so called marriage approaches whilst Holmes sneakily and so subtily trying to infect his mind with suspicions , and trying to make him doubt his choice

why ? well it could be because of his geniune concern with his best friends hasty choice ,

or the more plausible hypothesis is because he wanted to keep him to himself , Holmes displays his possessivity toward Watson throughout the canons shamelessly , and likes using possessive pronouns " my boy , my watson , my friend , my boswell , ect "

moreover he knew the real motive behind watson's marriage and its not out of love , thats for sure , he knew he was trying to get in line with their societal expectations because of watson's high sense of morality and conscientiousness , remember that being a bachelor , living with another bachelor of the same sex , it wasn't very well perceived in Victorian society , and it may rise a fair amount of questions , and Watson, knowing his temper would be damned before judged badly by people , as opposed to Holmes who dont care about how people judge his style de vie .

[hawkinsschoolcounselor]

Regarding queerbaiting: Sherlock is one of the more famous examples, and the tumblr drama surrounding it is an... interesting story that I think is worth knowing if you want to understand the queerbait allegations.

The show, made and set in the 2010s, liked to poke fun at John Watson for being a straight man shacking up with another single dude. The show's creators -- one of whom is a gay man himself -- were born in 60s, so I see these jokes as two guys who were adults during the height of AIDS and Thatcherism taking delight in the fact they're now living in a world where queerness is largely accepted and somewhat normalized. A straight guy being forced to constantly defend himself from nonchalant assumptions that the man he's living with is his gay lover is funny when he's not in any danger of being hate-crimed over it, right?

(I'm not a fan of the joke personally, but I get it.)

They really liked this stupid joke though, so they used it again and again and again, to the point that young fans started to become convinced it was hinting at something. I can't blame them: there was even a lesbian character who fell for Sherlock and explicitly compared herself to John as someone who wasn't into men and yet was just so spellbound by this one special detective boi.

It was pretty lesbophobic imo, which should have been a massive red flag as to how the showrunners really felt about queer characters...

...But where the show went from annoying to actively hostile was the mystery of how Sherlock survived his apparent death at the end of season 2. The showrunners swore up and down it was solvable... and then when the next season aired, the "solution" was "lol who cares how he did it, this is a ~*character driven story*~ and only stupid obsessed idiots would want to solve the mystery. 🤣🤣🤣"

Make no mistake, they singled out the mlm shippers specifically for mockery -- there's a group of Sherlock Holmes conspiracy theorists in the show who argue over a theory that Holmes and Moriarty staged the death together and then kissed about it. (The viewer is clearly meant to laugh at this.)

Some of the Johnlockers on tumblr refused to believe this was happening to them and doubled down and convinced themselves there was going to be an amazing Johnlock plot twist at the end of season 4. My understanding (which might be wrong, I wasn't in the fandom) is that this contingent was largely composed of naive queer teenagers who blindly trusted a handful of influential adults who insisted that the show was deep and clever and didn't hate its fans.

So I can definitely sympathize with the folks who fear Byler is just queerbait. This too is a mlm fandom made up of naive teenagers trusting the adults who swear that the secret gay plot twist is totally gonna happen this time, trust me bro it's not called Surface Things.

And, look. I think it's very sensible to be skeptical of random strangers on the internet who insist they have the answers, no matter how authoritative they might sound. Keep on doing that, folks. 👍

But I think that principle applies just as much to the "this is just like Sherlock" doomers as it does to the "anyone who thinks Byler won't happen has no media literacy" lot. Yes, it's always possible that the Duffers were queerbaiting us all along... but the way Sherlock and Stranger Things approach queerness truly is like night and day.

Huh, well, if what you say is accurate, then it sounds like the Holmes writers were just jerks overall. I can see the joke, as you explain it. I may not think it appropriate to make it a running gag, but it's good for a chuckle or two. If it was truly presented as a joke, then it would be on the fans for misinterpreting it, but I don't know enough about how it was presented to know how easy it would be for fans to make that conclusion.

To me, it only makes it more apparent that things on Stranger Things are "night and day," as you put it. Will's feelings, and Robin's, for that matter, are not treated as jokes. They're treated as dramatic, emotional parts of their individual arcs. In Will's case, his happiness is linked to his relationship with Mike, which is complicated by the fact that he doesn't think he'll get to have a romantic relationship with him, or at all really.

I prefer to think the Duffers are better than whoever was responsible for what you described. While it all remains to be seen, they deserve the benefit of the doubt, for now.

[childofhypno]

just some thoughts from sherlock and co. Mailbag episode

honestly I did this to myself and at 3am no less.

In an mailbag episode on the sherlock and co. patreon, answering a question on their favorite musicals, John answered Les Misèrables. And being the romantic we know our loveable doctor to be, I was perusing the songs from the 2013 movie album and came across On My Own.

Sung by Èpoine about her unrequited love for Marius. And that is sad in its own regard, there's a reason it's one of the musicals most popular songs and Samantha Barks does a great job of that crushing emotional weight of being so wrapped in someone, so ultimately dazzled by them and wanting to be near them. But knowing they will not look at you the same, will not place the same value on the time and proximity you share. And that is not their fault and it is hard to love someone and desire to be close and yet have them be the source of your greatest pain and rejection, even though they may wish you no harm.

It's been hinted at and out right stated (by Sherlock) that John wants to be liked. And given what we've heard about John's last relationship (the one whereby he gained ownership of Archie after the split) and perhaps some insecurities there, insecurities in his own capabilities, comparing himself to others, its understandable to read John as something of an insecure man. Not in a toxic manner but John definitely has a lot of self doubts about himself and his place in the world and what he can offer to others. Despite him so naturally being able to attune to people and their needs and being quite bloody smart and intuitive. All round just a decent person.

And John, as much as anyone, marvels at Sherlock Holmes. This almost mythical figure. John admires Sherlock and maybe envies him on some level. I think not in Sherlock's deduction skills or specific knowledge skillsets but maybe in Sherlock's apparent surety in himself and where he is in life and what he wants from it. Sherlock is plainly himself, even if it means not "fitting in " John often tries to mould himself to what others might like, and hey, as a people pleaser, oh boy do I understand that. Almost becomes like muscle memory.

Sherlock in turn, I think admires John's social prowess. His ability to express the complexity of emotions. Just because someone doesn't emote the typical way doesn't mean they don't feel the emotions. And that can be incredibly frustrating when you want to communicate with others. Sherlock cares about people. He's interested in people. And he can't always express or connect with them in the way he wants. Like a language barrier he mentioned in another mailbag episode. That is why Sherlock and John work. They draw out in each other and supplement for the qualities they lack or yearn to have more of. They're a balancing act. A good one. And I'm not the first to point that out.

All this to say, imagine when that act is separated. The Fall. Grown so comfortable to have the other's support, always by each others side and then, suddenly the other person isn't there. And you have to remember how you functioned without them before. But you can't go back. You're not the same person you were. But if they aren't there to remind you, to encourage you, it's easy to fall back into old habits.

And so the song. On My Own. From John's perspective, watching the man the myth the dazzling legend that is Sherlock Holmes, getting swept up in the adventures, feeling totally out of place but thrilled be along for the ride, participating, maybe growing in confidence all because of coincidental flat share with possibly the most brilliant and bizzare man he's ever met. The world is changing for John Watson. And Sherlock is seemingly at the center of it all. He's found purpose. Friends. A home. Maybe more. But John is as fallible in his assumptions as any of us are. And Sherlock appears to have no interest in such relationships and John, not confident enough to make the first move. So he can daydream. Of what it would be like to be with Sherlock. And what it would be like be without Sherlock.

And then the Fall. And he truly is without Sherlock and his world has dulled and greyed and blurred. The city has lost its glimmer. The flat is quiet. The words are meaningless. And John sits with his what ifs.

Don't think of John hearing this song. Of the heartbreak of knowing that you can ever be with the one you love. And knowing that taste of what brilliant technicolours the world is when you were with them, full of stimulating twinkling lights. And thinking it could never be that way again. Don't imagine John, sat in the flat, in the achingly quiet flat, as a woman sings for her never was love, head in his hands, Archie resting his head on John's knee. Don't think of John cursing himself for not being sure enough to tell Sherlock how he felt, for not being good enough again to save his friend. Don't think of John Watson, once again, on his own.