#i know i know everyone wants me to shut up about sherlock

[incorrectbatfam]

It's movie night but they can't use the home cinema, what do they do?

[week 1]

Bruce: Thanks for letting us use your place for movie night while we fix that leak at home.

Dick: No problem. Besides, I have plenty of snacks and the director's cut of Dumbo.

Everyone: *gathers around*

Dick: *puts on the movie*

~ 10 minutes in ~

*beep* *beep* *beep* *beep*

Tim: My crime alert's going off.

Harper: Mine too.

Duke: Must be big.

Bruce: Suit up and rendezvous in three.

Dick: *sighs and pauses the movie*

Dick: Can't get one night in this damn city.

———————

[week 2]

Tim: Steph, why are we at a karaoke lounge?

Steph: I know the owner's cousin's hairdresser's dog walker's sister's girlfriend and I convinced them to let us use the party room. Don't worry, it's just like a TV screen.

Steph: *puts on Pitch Perfect*

Steph: Ooh, I love this part.

Steph: *grabs a mic and starts singing*

Everyone:

Damian: *stuffs napkins in his ears*

———————

[week 3]

Jason: Since we decided on Pride and Prejudice, I thought I could play it at my safehouse.

Dick: Sweet, thanks!

Jason: *unlocks the door*

Dick: *tries to step in*

Jason: *stops him*

Jason: I said I could play it. I never said you could come in. I don't want your you-ness all over my new stuff.

Bruce: Jason, be reasonable.

Harper: Yeah, you got this junk off the side of the road.

Jason: My junk, my rules.

Tim: Then what are we supposed to do?

Jason: Fire escape's around the back. You'll get a decent glance.

~ 20 minutes later ~

Dick: *leans his head in to hear better*

Jason: My air, my rules.

Jason: *closes the window*

———————

[week 4]

Bruce: Cass, it's your turn. Got the movie?

Cass: *nods and plays Rambo on her computer*

Barbara: Uh, why isn't there any sound?

Cass: Volume button broke. Just read lips.

Jason: Kinda hard to do that with the brightness at zero. Did that stop working too?

Duke: Looks fine to me.

Jason: Shut up, Flashlight.

———————

[week 5]

Tim: I brought my entire Star Wars collection.

Bruce, dodging a space laser: Not the time.

Tim: Okay.

Bruce: *punches an alien robot*

Tim: How about now?

———————

[week 6]

Barbara: Sorry I got a cold, but at least we can still have movie night on Zoom. I torrented a copy of The Matrix.

Barbara: *shares her screen*

*movie plays*

Barbara: *leaves herself unmuted*

Barbara: *starts crinkling Sun Chips*

———————

[week 7]

Everyone: *crowd around Damian's phone watching My Neighbor Totoro*

Bette: Why is your phone so small?

Damian: I have tiny hands.

———————

[week 8]

Harper: Because we're watching Cars this week, I thought I could put together an all-immersive experience.

Bruce: BY LOCKING US IN A RUNAWAY SEMI-TRUCK?!?

———————

[week 9]

Duke: I called this company and since we're heroes, they're letting us use their electronic billboard for this week's movie at a huge discount. Kill Bill should be coming on right about...

*movie starts playing*

Jason: Not bad, Narrows.

*billboard switches to an ad*

———————

[week 10]

Carrie: Since Steamboat Willie is now public domain, I thought we could do something different tonight.

Carrie: *pulls out a flipbook*

———————

[week 11]

Everyone: *watching Love, Simon in a dark living room*

*lights flick on*

Apollo and Midnighter: *standing there in date night outfits*

Steph: Um, Cullen, who are these guys?

Cullen: *laughs nervously*

Cullen: Everyone, meet Apollo and Midnighter. They're kinda-sorta my gay uncles and we're kinda-sorta in their apartment and I kinda-sorta didn't expect them to come back early.

Midnighter: Remind me why we gave you a spare key?

———————

[week 12]

Kate: *sets up a projector and plays Glass Onion*

Bruce: Kate, this is a crime scene.

Kate: The fun part's already done, let Gordon do cleanup this time.

———————

[week 13]

Alfred: Back in my day, we did not rely on scrupulous use of technology. Which is why I propose watching a classic Sherlock Holmes tale on a classic instrument.

Alfred: *pulls out a zoetrope*

Steph: Anyone know what that is?

Dick: Not a clue.

———————

[week 14]

Luke: Nothing like a good ol' drive-in movie. Great idea, Helena.

Helena: I know, and the Godfather is perfect for this.

*Batmobile crashes through the screen*

Steph: Sorry we're late.

Duke: I'm still figuring out the PRINDL.

———————

[week 15]

*TV playing the Aristocats*

Bruce, trying to flirt: I like what you've done with the curtains.

Selina: Thanks, but it was Snowball's after-dinner surprise.

*TV blinks off*

Tim: Hey, what gives?

Selina: *takes a chewed-up cord out of a cat's mouth*

Selina, sighing: This is why I married rich.

———————

[week 16]

Luke: May I present the ultimate Snakes On A Plane drone show!

*phone rings*

Luke: Hello? ... Yes, this is he. ... Mhm. ... Yep. ... Okay.

Luke: Never mind, the FAA says I can't.

———————

[week 17]

Everyone: *watching Legally Blonde at Bette's place*

*dogs barking*

*sirens*

*loud music*

*car honk*

*neighbors shouting*

Bette: Sorry, we have thin walls.

Bruce, shrugging: Eh, still not as bad as HOA.

———————

[week 18]

Damian: Where is movie night this time, Father?

Barbara: My money's on another crime scene.

Bruce: Actually, I rented out the theater just for us and they're playing a special edition of The Mark of Zorro. Everyone got their snacks?

Duke: Popcorn, check.

Cass: Licorice, check.

Steph: M&Ms are obviously the right answer by the way.

Dick: I got a slushee.

Jason: I got the slushee machine.

Bruce: Alright then, take your seats. The movie's about to begin.

*movie plays*

*Rogues break in, make a mess, and leave*

Bruce:

Bruce:

Bruce: I miss my parents.

[holmesianlove]

Chapter 10 - Kitten

Sherlock stormed into the lab as usual with all the confidence of a man who owned the place.

“Molly. Good, you’re here. I need to see the body. It's imperative that we do it as quickly as possible. I have suspicions about new bruising and you know how time is of the—“ Sherlock froze and blinked at the sight in front of him.

“Oh, hello Sherlock, John. Lovely to see you both,” Molly said brightly.

John also froze and looked at the desk where Molly was working. Her hair was in a mess, a knot clasped violently with a clip and almost as much hair falling out of it. She was typing away at the computer, her desk covered in papers. On top of the papers, though - and the cause of their staring - was a small ginger kitten padding up and down over her work. As they stared, it found a pencil to paw at.

“Ah… Molly…?” John began, looking up at Sherlock and back at the bench. Sherlock looked deeply offended.

Molly had paused to take a sandwich out of her mouth when she first spoke to them but had already returned it back to its resting place in her mouth, as she typed furiously again. “Hmmm?” she asked, not even looking up at them.

“Cat,” Sherlock spat out.

Molly lifted the sandwich out again. “Sorry?”

“You have a cat,” Sherlock said stiffly.

“Oh yes, this is Milo. Say hello, Milo,” she said to the animal, which only seemed to offend Sherlock more. The kitten meowed back appropriately.

“Molly, this is a lab,“ Sherlock said with a frown.

“So?” She laughed, abandoning her sandwich to the plate this time.

“Well, there’s… certain levels of hygiene that should be… should be…” Sherlock didn’t really have a good answer for her and looked to John for support.

“Sherlock, everyone here’s dead except for me. I'm fairly certain it's not going to cross contaminate or anything is it?” She laughed at him.

“The cat’s walking all over your paperwork. What about your filing system?” He tried instead.

“What about it, Sherlock?” She looked over at him and he was clearly beside himself. “You can't seriously be worried about a kitten?

“Well now I've lost my train of thought,” he sighed in frustration, watching the cat bite at some papers and spin around to tackle the pencil again.

“Do you not like cats, Sherlock?” Molly asked, mildly horrified.

“They’re dreadful creatures. They have no respect for human emotions, or personal boundaries. They can ignore the people close to them for days on end,” he scoffed angrily.

“Sounds familiar,” John mumbled.

“Excuse you?” Sherlock turned to look at him, wounded that his partner was not agreeing with him.

“Pretty sure that's the criteria you gave me before I moved in,” John reminded him.

Molly giggled. “I think you might be right, John.”

“Yes, I think you are, indeed, like a big cat, Sherlock. And you always curl up on the couch in funny positions… run around restlessly in the middle of the night...” John continued, starting to enjoy himself.

“You actually are very like a cat,” Molly agreed.

“Shut up,” Sherlock huffed, no quick retort ready to hand. “I was here for actual work.”

“Yes, yes. You wanted to see a body? Is this about the man with four wives?” Molly checked.

“Three wives… and a husband,” John pointed out.

Sherlock didn't miss the fact that John was once again stuck on that point.

They began to follow Molly out of the lab to head to the other room with the bodies. Sherlock felt something tug on his pants, and looked down to find the kitten biting at the hem.

“Ugh, Molly,” he groaned.

She turned to see Milo, biting and pulling at his expensive suit pants leg and couldn’t help smirking, before putting on a stern face. “You wanted me to get the body out? You deal with the cat.”

Sherlock let out a frustrated sigh, bending down to pick it up so he could keep walking. Milo immediately leaped out of his hands, and onto the shoulder of his coat, startling him. John snorted at the expression on Sherlock’s face. He looked mortified, horrified as the cat crawled along his shoulder and then up over the lapel to find a position between his coat collar and his curls, snuggling against his neck.

John suddenly blushed and was surprised by his reaction. He wasn't sure why, but the cat looked so comfortable snuggled against his flatmate. It seemed to be a cozy position that gave the kitten great satisfaction. Sherlock always seemed like such an uncomfortable being. He didn't seem like someone who would like to be cuddled, or enjoy affection. He didn't like attention from what John had seen. Never had dates over, never mentioned going on them. Was he asexual? Aromantic? Just generally disinterested? John had given up asking after the one attempt he had made to gauge Sherlock’s relationship status. The man certainly seemed oblivious to any of Molly’s advances, in any case. And he always mocked people in relationships when it came up on cases, or seemed to not understand the intricacies of them. John was always having to fill in the gaps for him.

And yet this cat had cuddled right against him. No hesitation. And suddenly, John kind of wished, just for a moment, that he was the kind of friend that Sherlock would like to cuddle up to.

“Do you need any assistance?” John asked.

“No, I suppose he can just stay there now,” Sherlock asserted.

“Oh, look! How adorable, he loves you already!” Molly exclaimed as she looked over to see what had happened.

“Yes, well it's quite a nuisance that he's making of himself,” Sherlock grumbled.

“Oh, you like it,” Molly scoffed.

“It's like a little massage gun that's purring against my neck,” he scoffed back at her.

“People pay good money for those massage guns,” Molly commented.

Again, John blushed at the idea. What was all that about all of a sudden?

“Yes. Well, that was all very cute,” Sherlock said to the kitten, “but I have work to do.” He tried to remove it and put it on the ground again. Milo meowed in the most adorable little cry and padded along behind Sherlock as he moved forward again.

Once they were all in place, Molly unzipped the body bag and Sherlock pushed forward impatiently. He grabbed gloves from the nearby container and snapped them on, leaning in to start taking note of the body. As he was looking, the kitten clawed its way up his pants leg, then onto his coat, to get back up to his position against Sherlock’s neck. Even from a couple of feet away John could hear the purring, like a little engine. He smiled, covering his mouth to stop himself from laughing aloud, afraid of embarrassing Sherlock. The kitten was struggling to balance while Sherlock leaned over the body, desperately shuffling, and adjusting its weight to stay perched there. It was irritating Sherlock to no end. He kept trying to flick it angry glances, but hidden under his chin, he couldn’t level the right amount of irritation at it.

“Why don't I do this and you can direct and observe?” John suggested.

“Fine,” Sherlock announced angrily, stepping back and snapping his gloves off throwing them into the nearby bin. He folded his arms across his body in absolute defeat and fury.

John grabbed some fresh gloves and took over, moving the victim’s arm to lift it and look at his ribs. “You're right, Sherlock, there's fresh bruising here that wasn't there the other day,” John said. “Just as you thought.” He looked up and couldn’t help smiling at the scene before him. Sherlock, looking like an aloof security guard, but with an adorable orange kitten nestled and purring under his ear, eyes closed in absolute ecstasy.

“I have to think about all of this, Molly. Can we get photos please?” Sherlock asked.

“Oh, yes, certainly.” She moved to the side and got a camera and then started taking some photos. “Um… actually… I was going to ask… if I saw you… if you would like to maybe come to my Christmas party?” She stumbled over the words awkwardly.

“Oh, we already have a couple of Christmas events,” Sherlock said absently, not making eye contact.

John gave him a stern look. “Didn't think there was anything going on. When is it?” John asked her.

“Next Saturday night?” She asked, her face lighting up.

“I’m sure we can make that work,” he agreed. “Can't we Sherlock?”

“Fine. Send me the details,” he grumped as he started to walk out of the lab.

“Ah… Sherlock?” John called after him.

“What?” Sherlock turned around to find Molly and John watching him expectantly.

“You can pack that up for us, can't you, Molly?” he said, assuming he was in trouble for leaving without cleaning up.

“No… ah…” Molly stuttered out.

“Sherlock, just…” John tried. Sherlock was clearly oblivious.

“What, John?” He asked in annoyance.

John sighed, removing his gloves as he walked over to Sherlock, grabbed the kitten from its position against Sherlock's neck and gave him a look. He walked it back over to Molly. “Sorry, Molly,” he said, handing Milo to her.

Sherlock, who now felt slightly embarrassed and affronted at the error, left the lab in a huff.

“Thanks John,” she said with a little smile. “Doesn't like cats,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Oh, he says that about a lot of things,” John said. “But we know his bark is always worse than his bite. I think he quite enjoyed that kitten cuddle. Milo is very cute, Molly.”

She giggled. “Thank you,” she said sweetly, as John left to find his sulking detective.

— —

Thanks @notjustamumj for the prompt list

This one is for @phoenix27884 today. You know which kitten this is. His name’s been changed for anonymity 🤭

@lisbeth-kk @helloliriels @totallysilvergirl @221beloved @safedistancefrombeingsmart @a-victorian-girl @peanitbear @starlitkeys @lumilama @yorkiepug @talkativeanxiousturtle @kettykika78 @kittenmadnessandtea @whatnext2020 @egregiously-chuffed @chriscalledmesweetie @catlock-holmes @battledress@kholkate @randomquadballpun @little-owls-things @daltongraham @sillygirlsmindpalace @naefelldaurk

[roses-r-rosie3]

Bad Idea Right?

Jason Todd x M!Reader

[Spill Ur Guts MasterList]

Warnings: Implied sex, Reader sleeping with his ex (aka Jason)🫢, Swearing, drinking, Fluff-ish??

Summary: After partying a bit too hard, the reader wakes up in his bed, and finds Jason (HIS EX) laying right next to him naked

F/n = Friend’s Name

Quote: “Yeah, like I would want everyone to know that I put my dick inside of my ex"

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You woke up with a jolt, and immediately got a major headache. You plopped on your bed with a groan, but something felt off… YOU WERE FUCKING NAKED?!

What the hell happened?!

Oh right, you threw a party at your house because your parents were out of town. But what happened afterwards? Great, now you have to try and piece together what happened.

First, you were setting up with your friends, people started showing up… what the hell happened after that though?

Flashback

“Hey y/n! Look who it is!” Your friend laughed.

You looked up and WHAT THE HELL?! Why the fuck was Jason there?! You didn’t even invite him! You were about to go confront him but your friends held you back.

“He’s not worth it y/n, he probably just got invited by someone else, don’t focus on him, just have fun” your friend reassured.

“Fine” you grumbled.

Next thing you knew, you drank at least not one not two not three, but four drinks! You were drunk out of your mind and you were about to go get your fifth one.

“Y/n, are you sure you should be drinking this much? I know your parents are out of town and all, but this is getting pretty concerning” your friend asked.

“It’s fine f/n! Another drink wouldn’t hurt!” You slurred.

You made your way towards the drink area, and low and behold, Jason was there. You ignored him the best you could, even as a drunk idiot. But as you were done pouring your drink into your cup, you bumped into Jason, spilling your drink on both you and him.

“What the fuck is your problem dude!” You yelled at him.

“Me?! You spilled your drink onto me!” Jason shouted defensively, obviously also a bit drunk.

You looked to the ground, knowing you were somewhat in the wrong.

“So are you just gonna stand there and look dumb or are you gonna show me where the towels are?” Jason said.

“Shut up” you murmured as you lead him to the restroom.

You opened the door and picked up a towel for you and him and started to wipe your clothes. It was silent for a good 5 minutes until you spoke up.

“Why are you even at this party to begin with” you said as you rolled your eyes.

“Did you forget that I have friends too or something?” Jason chuckled.

“So you didn’t know that the party was coincidentally held at my place, the place that you visited for more than 10 times?” You questioned.

“I just read that it was a party okay?!” Jason grumbled.

“Oh sure” you said sarcastically.

That just lead to a heated argument between the two of you. Things got heated and the next thing you knew, Jason was pinning you onto the bathroom wall and you two were sloppily making out.

"For the record this doesn't mean we're back together" You panted as you both pulled away.

"Well no shit sherlock" Jason mumbled before pulling you back in for another kiss.

After what was 8 minutes of making out, you finally broke the kiss.

"Let's finish this in my room yeah?" you smirked.

Jason just nodded before the two of you came into your room, locked the door and did stuff that required you not being seen at the party for the rest of the night.

End of flashback

Did you just sleep with your ex?! Wait.. you never remembered Jason leaving to go back at his place which meant.. wait.. no.. it couldn't be. You turned around and faced a figure, maybe this isn't him, maybe it's another guy you slept with after Jason, but you knew those tattoos from anywhere.

"HOLY SHIT!" You yelled out unintentionally.

Needless to say, that woke up Jason for sure. Jason rubbed his eyes sleepily, readjusting his vision to see where he was. He immediately recognized the room and hoped that you weren't the one who woke him up. But hope could only go so far, and he was met with your shocked/disgusted face.

"We're not telling ANYONE about this. You understand?" you threatened.

"Yeah, like I would want everyone to know that I put my dick inside of my ex" Jason said sarcastically as both you and him got out of your bed to change.

"How do you know I wasn't the top?! Hell we were both drunk!" you said defensively.

"I'm not the one with the limp" Jason smirked.

"You know what... uhh.. j-just get out!" you shouted.

[alexendria-rose]

Hiii , it's me again 😅 , I have a sherlock request, I always got curious on how sherlock would be if his girlfriend/ wife was in labor in giving birth , I really want to read about it , would he like detect everything, would be be nervous, anxious? Also the reader was already scared of getting pregnant cause the responsibility and the pain of the birth , and if you could like describe what Sherlock is doing while she goes through labor and Birth cause really most of these fics skip through it all .

Thanks ❤️

Love this little life~

Sherlock Holmes x Pregnant!Reader

A/n: I love this! Also sorry for the long delay. It’s been a crazy month! Hope you enjoy my love.

“Sherlock Holmes what are you doing?” Y/n giggled leaning against the doorframe of John’s old room- looking down at her husband putting the crib together. Or better yet anything in his sight together. He was nervous but he wouldn’t dare say it out loud and when he tended to get stressed if he didn’t know what to expect. Sherlock moved his head up a screwdriver in his hand- his eyebrows furrowed confused by her question.

“Getting the crib together? I thought you were smarter than this.” He mumbled looking back at the dissembled crib trying to rack his brain. Y/n just smirked and shook her head.

“Making comments about being smart when you don’t even know how to put a crib together.” She teased placing a hand on her swollen belly before wobbling her way into the room. Sherlock head shot up as he playfully glared at her.

“Shut up.” He groaned- she started to try to sit down on the floor next to him but was struggling, Sherlock immediately dropped his things and went by her side guiding her down. “Darling- why are you so goddamn stubborn.” She just giggled as she finally was able to sit down on the floor criss crossed.

“I can do things for myself- thank you.” She grinned brightly- Sherlock just rolled his eyes but the small smile was still there. She watched as he continued to try to build the stupid thing- she watched as he talked himself through it; she can see the frustration in his eyes. “Are you okay?” Sherlock moved his head to look into his wife’s eyes sensing the warmth and comfort in them.

“No- this damn crib doesn’t make sense.” He huffed- she laughed lightly shaking her head.

“Oh not even a genius sociopath can build a crib- I don’t think anyone can.”

• ───────────────── •

Sherlock was all over the place for the last week of her suppose due date. He was cleaning like a mad man- and everyone knew that Sherlock Holmes did not in fact clean. He was organizing all of his things- making sure everything was baby proof (all the experiments that y/n told him to put away years ago) was now all out of reach- and don’t even forget about all the baby books that piled up on his desk. He even had a certain room in his mind palace for all things baby which yes he had to delate some useless information that was automatically space related- which he knew John was going to laugh at him for but he didn’t care as long as his kid was safe and he tried to be a good dad he would do anything.

“Hey honey?” Y/n called out from the living room while Sherlock was cleaning the dishes in the kitchen making sure everything was spotless. Sherlock stopped what he was doing before walking into the living room to see Y/n holding her stomach and liquid dripping down her leg- she looked scared as she stared at him. “I think William is definitely on his way.” Sherlock immediately went into shock mode- he didn’t move a single muscle trying to calculate what his next move was- he read all of the parenting books but for the life of him he couldn’t remember what. He was frozen in place.

“U-Um I uh-“ Sherlock muttered- his brain going into overdrive which was insane for him to do. He usually knew what to do but in this case did not.

“Get the bag from the room.” She said softly taking a big inhale and exhale when one of the contractions. Sherlock rushed out of the living room grabbing the prepared pack bag from their shared bedroom- his brain finally up to speed as all the information in his head started processing. Sherlock ran back to his wife side as she could barely walk- well more like wobble.

“Okay- so the book said to keep breathing.” Sherlock instructed as she escorted her out of 221B- and into a taxi. Y/n gave Sherlock a slight glare- apparently not the right thing to say at this time. Sherlock wanted to laugh at her glare but decided to keep it to himself. They crawl into the taxi and another contraction- she tilts her head back breathing in deeply as the taxi begins to take them to their destination.

“Fuck!” She groaned in pain- Sherlock panicked and smoothed her hair down; knowing that was another way his wife could stay calm. She sighed softly leaning her back against Sherlock as he continued to run his fingers through her hair calming down her nerves and her pain. She felt uncomfortable of course but having Sherlock there definitely helped. They make it to St. barts Sherlock rushed out of the taxi before helping his wife out of the taxi as well.

Y/n gripped onto Sherlock hand tightly while she lay on the hospital bed and was about to give birth to their baby boy- Sherlock let her grip onto his hand as tightly as she wanted. Sherlock kept staring at his beautiful wife as she pushed. She was radiant- he never thought he would find her more beautiful but he was wrong. Even though she was sweaty, and struggling; she was more beautiful than he’s ever seen her and when he heard their baby’s first cry his heart swelled. The way her face lit up when she heard his cry. The doctor smiled widely as he handed their little one to y/n- she immediately went into mother mode and cradled her baby. Sherlock leaned over to take a look at William face- he already had some hair on top of his head curly already which made a chuckle escape his throat; his eyes were bright blue but he looked so much like y/n. Y/n sniffled giving William a small kiss on his head.

“He’s beautiful.” Sherlock muttered afraid of his voice went any higher that everyone could tell the emotions that was laced in his voice. He wasn’t used to a lot of emotions, it bugged him that he had it and everytime he felt it he would hear his brother in the back of his head but with y/n and now their little baby boy he couldn’t help himself. He never imagined a life like this for himself, but here he was. Y/n looked up at Sherlock seeing the subtle tears in his eyes- she can tell he was deep in thought, she grabbed his hand with her free hand giving it a light squeeze.

“We made our little miracle.” She breathed out using her free hand to wipe the tear that fell down Sherlock cheek a smile on her tired face. Sherlock sniffled lightly before crawling onto the bed next to her leaning his head ontop of hers as she stared at their little one.

“We did- William Hamish Holmes.” He chuckled lightly running his thumb against William’s cheek- their baby cooing as he did so, a small baby smile sneaking out. Y/n giggled lightly looking at Sherlock. “Can I?” Sherlock asked indicating to hold his new born.

“My love- you are the dad you don’t have to ask.” She laughed lightly before handing over William to Sherlock, his eyes widen at the feeling of him being so light and so small. He was suddenly scared to drop him and she could tell. “You’re okay, just cradle him. You’re not going to drop him.” She whispered lightly placing a hand on his shoulder. Sherlock did exactly what she said and finally felt safe enough to hold him, a wide grin on his face- this is what love was and to think he thought it was a defect for so long; how silly he was to think he almost skipped out on this. He had a wife so understanding, and now William who literally was the only one besides y/n to make his heart grow even bigger.

“I love you- both of you so much and I’m going to do everything in my power to protect you both.” Sherlock whispered lightly before looking at his wife’s bright eyes.

“I love you too- then you’re already doing a fantastic job.” Y/n whispered back- she leaned over and captured Sherlock in a soft kiss to let him know that he had this- to know that she absolutely adored this little sociopath that she fell so hard for him; here’s to another chapter of new love.

• ───────────────── •

Hope you enjoyed!! Sorry it’s so short. This was my first giving birth x reader lol.

[valeskawhore]

VOX

HAZBIN HOTEL! RANDOM THOUGHTS.

I’m hitting on Sherlock Phones yall.

Someone help this man.

Someone PLEASE help this man.

Let's be real with ourselves lonely sinners, vox is not the man we need but he is the man we fawn for. I’ve done a lot of research on his character, his voice actor, his background and his main focus in hazbin hotel just to come up with the most canon version I can write him as.

He is NOT “that guy”. Vox is conniving, manipulative, egotistical, rude,and has been described as not “a nice person” by Vizi herself.

I'm pretty sure he was the “where my hug at?” guy back in college for computer science and theater arts. The guy who no one liked; laughed at not with and continuously thought that everyone was intimidated by him because no one wanted to approach him. Yet it was really because— No one thought he was cool whatsoever.

Of course this man took dance lessons and acting classes, his mind is quite literally a computer even back when he was alive. Vox understands the concept behind “good television” and how to appease his audience.

The lack of attention in his life to early childhood/adulthood was made up when he became a TV host. Vox wanted everyone to love him just so he could push them away and be this “Awesome guy who's too busy and successful for everyone”.

He totally speaks to everyone like they are 4-12 years old. Someone could be older than him, taller, or stronger and he’s just going to immediately deem them imperior to him because of his success.

“My dear, whatever could be the problem?”

“Awe cupcake, are you sad? panties in a twist? Is your bra too tight or are you just going through shark week?”

Vox will literally say one phrase when he knows things aren't going his way.

“Let’s think about this.” Not TALK– THINK. Let's THINK about this.

And darling, he’s not talking to himself but to you and again, immediately placing you underneath him–trying to have you use that “big brain of yours”

This man will plant shit in your head causing you to draw conclusions about things so you can focus entirely on what HE wants. As done with Valentino in episode 2 SE1; when valentine is flipping his shit and all vox does is control the situation.

He’ll flip his shit, igniting fear into the person he’s talking to, allowing the victim to find him ‘scary’ enough to break into submission and shut their mouth.

He’ll take this time to plant thoughts into their head. “What do you think going half cocked around hell to find angel dust will do to our image?”---”U-uh.. fuck it up?” DING DING DING. “Good boy/girl”

And then praise when they come to their “senses” (What he wants them to do)

“Such a big brain you have, you’re so smart.”

“Aren't you a pretty doll? hm?”

“That’s right baby, I knew you had it in you.” No he didn’t, you surprised him but he’s gonna take on the ‘caring best man role’ to cover up his surprise.

He gets hard easily. Don't ask me how I know, I just do.

*~*~*~*~*

ok so I really wanna write like a whole freaking series of events for him, just one shots and I’m interested in all kinds of ideas, these are really just random thoughts that came to my mind while writing. If you guys like the way I write him or the ideas I present— totally let me know if I should continue my obsession with this man.

[misterspectacular]

Joker in Arkham Shadow

I'm so glad Joker is a part of Arkham Shadow! Not a big part and we never actually see him, which is sad, but HE'S IN IT! It's actually necessary that we don't see him, or that he doesn't see US, considering we are Batman without the mask and he knows we are Batman based on voice alone. He knows his Bat so well!

The voice actor hasn't been listed yet, but it's Troy Baker, who also voiced Joker in Arkham Origins! (Troy Baker voices Harvey Dent/Two-Face in this game, as well). (Side note, Batman in this game is voiced by Roger Craig Smith who also voiced Batman in Origins.) (Side side note, this is a sequel to Origins.)

Heres the dialogue:

Matches Malone (Batman): *knocks*

Joker: Two bits! Well, look who's finally awake!

Malone: The hell you talking about? you some kind of Joker?

Joker: Hardly knew her! Hehehee... Aah, nothing like an old friend to make the joint feel less solitary.

Malone: Old friend? You got the wrong guy. Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'd remember meeting a freak like you.

Joker: Tut tut, Batsy-Boo! The East End voice might fool the rest of these dimwits, but me? Tsk tsk. Oh, you and I have something special.

Batman: What do you want?

Joker: Right now? A gallon of gas, a book of matches, and a ham sandwich. But I'll settle for a little chit chat. Ever since the last riot down here, it's gotten so dreadfully boring!

Batman: (multiple choice question, this one was selected) How long have you been in solitary?

Joker: Ooh, look who's fishing for leads! Don't tell me I'm a suspect in whatever foul deeds you're investigating.

Batman: You are always a suspect.

Joker: Hehehe, I bet you say that to all three girls. Hehe, unfortunately for you, Sherlock, I've been locked in here ever since you stopped me from exploding the Warden. (Reference to Origins finale) Funny... I didn't think they'd throw me in the hole for FAILING to kill someone. Huh!

Batman: You have no idea what's going on in Gotham?

Joker: I mean, honestly, you finally put the hurt on Gotham's criminal underworld and suddenly there's a brand new rodent stealing your spotlight! Meanwhile, I'm boxed up like --

Batman: Bats are NOT rodents.

Joker: Euggh. Bet you're fun at parties.

CO Robbins (guard?): Shut up in there, will ya?!

Joker: Everyone's a critic! Fine, fine, fine. Aah, I need to get my beauty sleep anyway. Seems like I'm always a little pale ever since SOMEONE dropped me into a vat of acid! Hmm? Hahaha!

Batman: Enough talk for now.

(I love this bit. In ORIGINS, it's shown that Joker actually RECREATED his own memories so that Batman would be included in them. The vat of acid and Batman throwing him in was a made up memory. It's also shown in Origins that Joker PAINTS his face -- he's not pale because he was "dropped in acid". Joker prefers the fantasy and at this point might believe it's reality.)

---

(Next day)

Joker: Knock knock!

Batman: Joker.

Joker: No no no! You're supposed to say, "who's there?" Do you really not know how this goes? Let's try again. knock knock!

Batman: (multiple choice, this one was selected) Who's there?

Joker: What? It's me, the Joker. Oo, they must've hit your head pretty hard before they threw you in here.

Batman: *grunt*

Joker: Oh, don't be like that! Not my fault you walked into it. Now, where were we?

Batman: (multiple choice) Where's the Rat King?

Joker: Beats me! You'd think someone who wanted chaos and destruction throughout Gotham would've jumped at the chance to get ME involved.

Batman: And he hasn't?

Joker: Bats. Really? Do you think I'd be chatting this much with you if I had any other options? It's always work work work! You never ask how my plans for killing sprees are going!

Batman: During the last riot, you left bombs all over the prison. You know where the Rat King is hiding.

Joker: You know, persistence is one of your best qualities, but I'm being honest with ya. I wouldn't know the Rat King's secret lair from a hole in the ground!

CO Robbins: How many times I gotta tell ya?! this ain't a damn social club!

Joker: Oh, cram it up your TYGER hole, Robbins! I don't come to YOUR job and commit unspeakable offenses against helpless victims, do I?! Oh wait, I do. Well, hate to say it, Matches, but he's got a point. We'll chat later.

---

Joker: Psst! Hey buddy, you awake? I haven't heard the screws bustling around in a while. You know what that means?

Batman: That it's time to get out of here.

Joker: That's right! Slumber party! Truth or dare! You go first, but don't ask where any bodies are buried!

Batman: (multiple choice, this one was selected) What do you know about Dr. Quinzel?

Joker: Let's see, Dr. Quin -- Ooh, the blondie? Is she still working here? Well, if you ask me, she could really use a career change. I don't suppose you know anyone who's hiring? Ooo! Maybe she could be your little sidekick! Hahahaha!

Batman: I work alone.

Joker: Oh, come on! The adventures of Batsy and Doctor Ditz! It'll play great woth the teens.

Batman: No.

Joker: Teh. Fine, fine. If you're too uptight to give the girl a chance, well, one man's trash is another man's treasure.

Batman: If you know something about the Rat King, tell me. You could be his next target.

Joker: Oh, heaven forfend! I certainly hope no one breaks me out of solitary to try and recruit me for the Day of Wrath! And they say you're not funny. Thanks for the laughs, Bato! I mean, "Matches". WINK! Now what's next? Spin the bottle? Kind of difficult with a concrete wall between us. Now don't go putting my hand in a bowl of water while I sleep! Hehehehe

Batman: This isn't funny, Joker. People are going to-- (Batman is interrupted by a visitor and so ends the Batjokes interactions)

---

and that's that.

later Batman explores Joker's cell. It says "hahaha" on one wall, and on the wall they were speaking through it says "we're sleeping" and "Kill the bat!"

oh and here's a screen shot of the wall from Batman's side, I had to crop the video because I got a notification during recording haha

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

The Same Page Part 10

Sherlock and Mycroft & little sister!reader

A/N: guys I’m so sorry, this chapter was NOT supposed to take this long…but hey, now it’s here, enjoy! It’s a little short, but I like where it ends.

“I can’t believe him! ‘My mess,’ as if—“

“Sherlock, if you start another round of ‘blame Mycroft,’ I swear I will hit you again!” John thundered.

Sherlock was taken aback. “Are you saying you agree with him?”

“Now not this again,” John groaned. “It’s not about sides, Sherlock, it never has been.”

“That sounds like something someone taking Mycroft’s side would say,” Sherlock argued.

“If you would put your ego away for two seconds—“

“That’s enough!” Both men shut up instantly at the sound of a woman’s voice entering the conversation. Mary was glaring at both her boyfriend and his best friend with equal annoyance. “Both of you are idiots.”

Sherlock looked like he was about to retort, but Mary interrupted him.

“Sherlock, you know darn well that you’ve made a mess. From what Mrs. Hudson told me, your older brother left in a towering rage with your little sister, who couldn’t even speak. That implies at least a little fault on your part, alright? But that’s not the problem. The problem is that you want everything to go back to the way it was two years ago. Now don’t try to deny it, you were acting that way when you found out about me, and you’re acting that way now.”

“So what if I am?” Sherlock grumbled finally. “It’s best for her if—“

“No, no. You haven’t been here for two years, and you need to at least consider the possibility that you don’t know what’s best for her, not anymore.” At Sherlock’s glare, she continued. “If you can’t do that, at least consider this; if this goes down to a custody battle, Mycroft will win, there’s absolutely no doubt. So you need to decide what’s more important—you getting your way, or you being able to see your sister again.”

When Sherlock still looked uneasy, Mary gave one last attempt.

“Your pride or your sister, Sherlock. That’s what this comes down to.”

Sherlock took a deep, steadying breath.

“I have to go see Mycroft.”

…

You were quiet again when you woke up, and Mycroft found himself desperately trying to regain some form of control. He led you back to your stool at the kitchen counter and tried again to get you to eat.

“Please.” Mycroft spoke quietly. “You know how important it is that you eat.”

He watched you pick around your food for a few minutes. He was willing to be a silent observer at first, but when he picked up on the slight irregularity in your breathing and the tears tracking down your face, he stepped in.

“Talk to me,” he insisted. “I need you to tell me what’s going on.”

…

You tried to make yourself eat, you really did. But the fear was back in full force, and it was making your stomach twist in ways that made even the idea of food want you to throw up.

Ever since the thought of CPS had creeped into your head, you couldn’t get it out. Even though Mycroft said he wouldn’t go, what if he did? Or what if the custody battle got CPS on his back again, and they decided that both Holmes’ brothers were unfit to raise you?

You’d have to talk at the custody hearing, and then the judge would see how screwed up you were, and everyone would see how skinny you were because you couldn’t eat…

You had to eat, you had to eat, you had to…

It was too much. Too much pressure, too much uncertainty.

“I need you to tell me what’s going on.”

Mycroft’s words gave you something else to focus on, but you didn’t think you could speak any better than you could eat.

You opened your mouth, closed it, cleared your throat, and tried again.

“I don’t…wanna go away.”

“Go away?” Mycroft’s eyebrows furrowed. “You’re not going away, you’re not going anywhere.”

“What if…” you took a shaky breath. “The custody case goes wrong?”

“The what?” Mycroft shook his head. “No, Y/N…Sherlock and I won’t go to court, ok? We…” Mycroft swallowed. “We can figure this out without a judge, ok? We will. And I’m never gonna let anyone take you away, ever.” Mycroft watched as you look at him, then your food, then back to him. “Hey,” he said. “Even if you can’t get back on your schedule, no one can take you away. Don’t let this scare you, alright?”

You turned in your chair, fiddling with your fork for another minute or two before taking one bite, then another.

“Thank you.” Mycroft pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Hey,” he said once he was sure you had eaten as much as you could. “Sherlock is coming over. I know he…he said some messed up things to you, but he wants to talk to you. Is that alright?”

You nodded slowly, taking Mycroft’s hand and letting him lead you to the couch.

The two of you were comfortable with the silence for several minutes until a knock at the door had Mycroft jumping up.

“Sherlock,” he said. “Stay right here, I’ll get him.” He returned a moment later with Sherlock, who looked uncomfortably stiff.

“Look,” Sherlock began, his attention completely on Mycroft. “You’re right—you have custody, and I can’t fight for it, because you’d win. So we’re doing this your way whether I agree or not.”

“Alright…” Mycroft’s eyes drifted to you before he looked at Sherlock. “But I didn’t really bring you here to talk with me.”

“I don’t know what else there is to say,” Sherlock said, his eyes going from you to Mycroft. “She wants to be here, I can’t change that.”

“Sherlock,” Mycroft was glaring now. “What about—“

“Look,” Sherlock cut him off. “I’m not going to talk to her with you listening in and interjecting all the time. Can we have a minute?”

Mycroft looked to you, and when you nodded he stood.

“Alright,” Mycroft decided. “Let me know when you’re done.”

“You’re not an invalid,” Sherlock said when Mycroft was gone. “But we all know that things are different now. I just want to put them back the way they were. Don’t you want to go back to school? Don’t you want to be the way you used to be?”

You let the words hang in the air as you considered them, picking each one apart. You wanted to go back to school…some time…but you knew it would be a while before you’d be ready for that. And as for his other question…

“I don’t think I’m ever gonna be who I used to be.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you curled in on yourself. “I…I know that’s not what you want…”

“It’s not about what I want,” Sherlock argued. “I’m just trying to do what’s best for you. Can’t you at least try to go back to what it was? It’s the only way you’ll get better.”

“I am trying,” you argued, your hands fidgeting.

“Ok,” Sherlock continued. “And I’m just trying to help you—that’s why I was treating you like nothing had changed.”

Sherlock’s desperation to explain himself just made you even more frustrated.

“But I…I’m not…”

“Mycroft isn’t going to treat you like you’re normal,” Sherlock said. “I will.”

“I don’t…I’m, I…” you clamped your mouth shut to hide your quivering lip, not like you knew what to say regardless. What Sherlock said made sense, but it didn’t at the same time. And you couldn’t tell if he was saying it because he believed it, or because he just wanted you to come live with him again. You knew sooner or later the brothers would have to ask you again, and you’d have to choose eventually.

You couldn’t do it. You didn’t want to. You couldn’t—

“Hey, hey.” Sherlock’s hands on your shoulders brought you slamming back to the present and out of your head, jarring you. “You’re not breathing—just breathe.”

You tried to take a deep breath in, but it caught in your throat and you started to breathe faster and shallower.

“I’m—I need—you nee—“ Sherlock was wide-eyed and panicked as you started to hyperventilate and your face went sheet-white. “You’re ok, you’re ok,” he soothed, shaking your shoulders gently to try to snap you out of it. He stopped when you started to curl in on yourself, rubbing at your chest and gasping for air. “M…” Sherlock’s voice caught in his throat, and he swallowed hard before trying again, his voice coming out in a yell. “Mycroft!”

Mycroft was in the room in a moment.

“I…I didn’t…” Sherlock looked from you to Mycroft. “I didn’t mean to…I…”

Mycroft ignored him completely, brushing past him and kneeling down in front of you, taking your hands in his.

“Y/N,” he said calmly. “Y/N, look at me.” When he saw your eyes completely unfocused and the way your face was turning colors from lack of air, he gave up the gentle approach. “Ok, ok…” Mycroft sat on the couch next to you and pulled you into his arms. “Y/N, I’ve got you, it’s ok. Breathe with me, ok? In…out…come on, you can do it, in…out…yes, like that…”

Sherlock stepped back, a useless observer while Mycroft helped you. His mind was clear again once you began to breathe, and his thoughts came back like a firestorm.

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t breathe, and there was nothing Sherlock could do. He had been completely and utterly useless. Worse, he didn’t even know what he’d done to set you off. He’d thought the two of you were having a perfectly productive conversation. But then you…

With everything going on in his mind, one thought was clearer than the rest:

He was wrong.

You didn’t belong with him.

Series Taglist:

@navs-bhat @isabellavere @chaoticglitterkitten @peachycupotea @justforrose @severussimp

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 31

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 30 🟣 Part 32

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August, Sherlock, Charles, Melot and Napoleon

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: ongoing vampire shenanigans, Melot's ongoing identity crisis gets worse (courtesy of Mikey), lore (buckle up)

Word count: 2.9k

A/N: Alright, as promised! Major thank you to @geralts-yenn (as usual) and @wa-ni for putting these babies back in my brain. I hope they're there for the long run because OH BOY did I dream up some filth that I'm desperate to share with everyone...

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @summersong69 @mis-lil-red

@sillyrabbit81 @livisss @itsrubberbisquit @ktficworld @proud-aroace-beastie

@plaidcat4815 @wa-ni @lovemusicpart2 @lizzystuffsthings @manysecrets2020

@sarcasmoverlordxo @mysweetlittledesire

Melot didn’t show up for dinner. He’d kicked you out of the room too, seconds after Mike had left, and now you were sitting at the dinner table, opposite questioning looks from the others.

“He wants to be alone,” Mike said. It was easier to get everyone to believe stuff like that when Mike said it. After all, the man knew what he was talking about.

It came as no surprise, then, that everyone dropped the subject. You ate dinner, mostly in silence, with ‘pass me the salt’ being virtually the only exception. It was hell.

Then, a flick of a switch. Off, on. Off again, and back on. Fast as lightning, and it sure as hell wasn’t the light. The feeling had come from somewhere inside you…

“You found him.” Marshall nodded approvingly from across the table, casting a few quick glances between you and Sherlock.

“Sherlock?” you asked. He looked at you with raised eyebrows and hummed by means of a reply. “Do that again, please.”

A smile spread across his handsome face at a glacial pace while a sigh of relief escaped you.

“As much as I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t mind you couldn’t find me, I must admit I am quite glad that you did manage,” he confessed.

“Where did you go?”

“I brought Melot a plate,” he explained. “Whatever Mike did — Mike, don’t bother — it shouldn’t keep Melot from August’s exquisite risotto.”

Dessert was the richest, creamiest and probably only homemade chocolate mousse you’d ever encountered in your life so far. It didn’t taste anywhere near as good as it should have.

“We should go talk to him,” Mike said. He'd practically inhaled his own dessert. You slid what was left of yours — about half — over to him. He made quick work of that, too, and then got up.

“I thought he wanted to be alone,” you said.

“He does,” Mike responded indifferently. “But just because he wants the sky to be green and the grass purple, doesn’t mean it’s going to happen.”

“He’s already working himself into a frenzy,” August added.

“Being alone is not good for Melot.” You were surprised that Charles even cared enough to weigh in on the situation, but you kept your mouth shut. Seemed like the smart thing to do.

“Absolutely correct.” Marshall threw a knowing smile your way.

Mike dragged you out of the kitchen, picking you up without asking to rush you to Melot’s room. He didn’t bother to knock.

“Hey,” he said softly.

Melot was lying on his bed, curled up in a ball, knees tucked tightly into his chest. His shoulders moved, although he didn’t make a sound. As soon as Mike spoke, Melot was on his feet, and in a split second the two were standing toe-to-toe with each other.

“You,” Melot snapped. “What did you do to me?”

Mike burst out in laughter. “What did I— you’re joking, right?”

A sharp smacking sound, Mike reaching for his cheek… Your eyes opened wide at the sight. Before Melot could strike again, Mike grabbed both of his wrists.

“I know you’re not seriously accusing me of what I think you just tried to accuse me of,” Mike snarled, baring his teeth. “It’s fine that you’re not sure how to handle this, but this” — he made a general gesture with his arms, dragging Melot’s along like he was a puppet  — “is not it.” He let go, his eyes suspicious.

“This is not who I am,” Melot stammered, his voice tired and broken.

“Oh, but it is, Melmel,” Mike said with a taunting grin. “You like boys.”

He what? You hadn’t seen that coming, that’s for sure. Okay, maybe a little, but you’d written off your interpretation of that strange, tense moment between the guys as a projection of a kind of fantasy you never even knew you’d had. Only it hadn’t been a fantasy. You’d simply seen that for what it was.

“I don’t—” Melot started, but Mike put a finger on his lips to shut him up.

“It’s the twenty-first century, baby!” He pulled his hand back again, draping his arms loosely around Melot’s neck. “Say it. I promise you’ll feel better.”

“I guess I’m… not gay, I mean, but maybe—”

“You’ll have plenty of time for the whole identity crisis later,” Mike said. “Just acknowledge what you know you’re feeling right now. It helps, trust me.”

“I like…” Melot’s voice faltered, and he cleared his throat. “I like at least one boy.” As soon as the words left his mouth, a sense of calm washed over him: he let his breath out on a dramatic sigh that turned into an exasperated chuckle, his shoulders dropped half a mile, and he leaned his forehead against Mike’s.

You’d watched the whole thing in silence, with an open mouth, and afraid to breathe or do anything to draw attention to yourself, but when Mike leaned forward and pressed the softest kiss on Melot’s lips…

“Aww.” Christ on a bike, what an award-winning response…

The boys turned their heads towards you. Mike raised an eyebrow, Melot looked shocked — as if he’d completely forgotten you were even there to begin with.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “But you two are surprisingly cute together.”

They both glared at you — Mike’s face morphing into a grin well before Melot’s did.

“Do they know?” Melot asked, his voice soft and brittle.

“Who? The mind-reading bunch of vampires, most of whom you’ve been living with for multiple centuries?” Mike raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes. It looked so silly that you couldn’t help but laugh.

The whole situation felt strangely comfortable, yet at the same time you felt incredibly out of place in it. Should you leave them to it? There was clearly a lot to unpack here, still, and you weren’t sure if you had any business being there to begin with.

“Don’t leave,” Mike said, once again grinning like a fool. “As badly as he wants me, he wants you more.”

Melot let out a frustrated cry before launching himself onto his bed in the most dramatic way. It was adorable. He scrambled to get under the covers, and hid his face in a pillow.

“Too bad those aren’t going to keep me away,” Mike said as he slowly stalked towards the bed.  “Come on, sweetcheeks. He needs cuddles!”

You hesitantly walked over to the side Mike hadn’t claimed, and looked at Melot. He pulled the covers back, inviting you into the bed. A wave of relief rushed through you as you got into bed with the guys.

It was quiet for a long time, in which Melot kept looking back and forth between you and Mike, unsure what to do, what to say… “How can I want you both?” he finally whispered on an exhale.

“Sexually, the answer is easy,” Mike said. “We’re both smoking hot, and you like that, so—”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Melot muttered, his cheeks slowly coloring pink. “Okay, for her, sure — no offense. But you…”

“None taken?” you half-said, half-asked carefully. Mike chuckled.

“You’ve never been attracted to me, actually,” he said casually. “Not until last week, anyway. You were always so distant, so… high above all of us. Why?”

“I was the eldest — in a way. I had a responsibility,” Melot explained. “It always felt unnatural” — he considered his words for a moment — “well, not always. It’s complicated. I felt incredibly out of place in the old, authoritarian coven I was a part of before Charles and Sherlock… And when I turned them, I was able to finally break those bonds, but it left me with this strange power over them.” He sighed and closed his eyes. “I took care to use that power as little as possible. Charles fought me for the position more than once.”

“But, why?” you asked. The story didn’t exactly provide great publicity for Charles… Not that that surprised you.

“He thought I lacked experience,” Melot said. “He wasn’t wrong, per se. Charles and Sherlock both managed to hold onto their positions at court, even shortly after they were turned. I was constantly plagued by my visions, starting to discover my healing ability… Ancient vampires are widely known for having the impulse-control of a toddler on crack.”

Mike coughed — a poor attempt to cover up his laughter. Melot glared at him and continued: “I had spent five centuries staying out of everyone’s way, living in a large coven, away from human society.”

“Why did you leave?” you wondered.

“Remember what I said before? About you making me kneel by your feet like a dog?” Yeah. You remembered. “I didn’t make that up. Catharine — the Queen of that coven — kept me as one of her personal pets. I was her prized possession. Or rather: my gift was. She’d seek my counsel, and proceed to ignore it, punishing me when things invariably went completely sideways. I’m sure she cursed herself for training us and our gifts so well, when I finally ran. It allowed me to stay out of her hands for nearly two centuries before I was finally able to sever the bond with the help of Charles and Sherlock — mostly Charles.”

“How did you do it?” You snuggled closer to him — Mike did the same on his other side.

“I’m not proud of it,” Melot said, tears forming in his eyes. “She came after me once again, sweet at first, begging me to come back, pulling the strings with all her might. I thought she’d pull my heart right out of my chest. I’d only ever been able to resist her pull and run, but with Charles and Sherlock behind me, helping me… When I refused, the bond snapped. That’s when she attacked me. Charles took her out — he almost died doing it… If she’d come around a decade sooner, I wouldn’t have been able to save him. I owe him my life, in more ways than one.”

“That still doesn’t explain the high and mighty attitude from before,” Mike joked — was it a joke? Not completely…

“We agreed on a fairly democratic structure. It became more difficult when Sherlock created Marshall, and August somehow found his way back to the coven. You can’t imagine the amount of fighting I had to shut down between Charles and August.”

No, actually you could imagine that perfectly well.

Mike laughed. “You really can’t. They’ve been very civil since you got here.”

“And they’re more afraid of Sherlock than they ever were of me,” Melot added, finally smiling again. “I can’t say I mourn my involuntary resignation. I finally have the opportunity to see who I am, and who I want to be, and what I want to do.”

“And two of the things you want to do are in your bed right now,” Mike said, pressing his lips to Melot’s shoulder.

He shrugged him off. “Don’t make it sound so lewd,” he snapped. You ran a finger down his cheek, hoping to calm him as well as get his attention. It worked; he turned his head to you.

“Don’t listen to Mikey, you know he means well. He can’t help it he’s such a mess,” you said softly. Melot chuckled — it turned into full-blown laughter when he saw the adorable frown on Mikey’s face. “What do you want to do?”

Melot stared up at the ceiling. “I think I want to go to college,” he said slowly, chewing on every word.

“Hell yeah! You could probably start next semester,” Mike immediately chimed in cheerfully, a grin stretching across his face. “I mean, it’s too late to get a dorm but we can be roommates, and—”

“Mike!” you said, reaching over Melot to put a hand over his mouth. “Don’t scare him!”

“Why would I want to live in a dorm to begin with?” Melot asked, surprised.

“For the experience,” Mike explained.

You virtually begged for an explanation. What experience could he possibly mean? Constant noise, people everywhere, having a tiny bed in a tiny — and shared — room that always smelled of microwaved whatever?

“Yes! That experience!” He rolled his eyes at you when you pointed out he himself hadn’t been staying in a dorm last semester, either. “Sweetcheeks, this is my third degree.”

What? As it turned out, Mike had degrees in journalism and computer science. You stared at him when he told you, trying with all your might to keep your face in check.

“I'm not as much of a clown as you think, Sweetcheeks. Just mostly.” He grinned at you before nuzzling Melot’s neck. “I think you should talk to the others, Mel.”

“What if they think it’s a bad idea?” he said softly, pulling you closer. “What if they think I shouldn’t leave this place? That I'm not ready?”

“Just apply to a few schools. Enroll in a few community college classes, even. You can always cancel if you really don’t feel ready by the end of summer!” Mike was clearly excited about the idea of Melot going to college. “Talk to Sherlock first, if you want to be certain of support! There’s no way he won’t let you go!”

“Quick question,” you interjected before Mike or Melot could start another monologue you wouldn’t be able to break in to. “Why wouldn’t you be ready?”

“Think back to ‘follow the teeth’ for a moment,” Melot explained. “They’re always on the lookout for human blood. I’m an incredibly powerful vampire who has been shielded from humanity for an incredibly long time. To set me loose in an environment packed with humans — a school, for example — would be…”

“A choice,” Mike finished. “And a particularly poor one, too.”

“But with you around…” Melot smiled apologetically. “Please don’t think you’re no more than food for me, I… It’s not fair to ask this of you already. Any of it. I’m so incredibly sorry.” He tried to turn away from you, but Mike pushed him back.

“Melot, when I offered to let you feed earlier, I was not planning on that being a one time thing,” you said, stroking his cheek. “We may not know each other well yet, but I’d love to change that. Let’s take some time to hang out this summer, and you can feed with the same freedom as the others… And we’ll see how it goes. But please, at least keep your options open when it comes to college.”

Melot nodded slowly before pulling you in for a hug that Mike joined in on as soon as he could. “Thank you. Both of you.”

You cuddled in silence for a while. It was amazing — Melot finally felt warm, Mike let out a chorus of happy humming sounds, sometimes interrupted by adorably disgruntled ones as you and Mel both kept reprimanding him every time he tried to get handsy.

“Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to be in bed with two people and knowing they both want to fuck you, and to then just… get nothing?” he finally grumbled.

Melot almost jumped out of bed listening to Mike’s complaint. “What? I never said— I don’t… I—”

 “It’s okay, Mel,” you said. “Sometimes” — you glared at Mike — “our brain needs a little time to catch up to whatever carnal desire Mike already picks up on. And that’s okay.” You hissed those last words specifically at Mike.

“I promise that I am trying my very best to behave!” Mike huffed. “I really am! But he’s reacting to visions he’s having of things that will probably happen and it’s driving me insane! Mel is really making this hard for me — interpret ‘this’ either way.”

“How do you know they’re visions I’m reacting to?” Melot wondered.

“There’s a difference between a simple desire and anticipation,” Mike said like it was supposed to explain anything. One look at your — and Melot’s — confused face made him roll his eyes. “It’s like… We always want blood, right? Well, that desire feels differently when we’re about to sink our teeth into someone. It becomes more present, heightened…”

“That doesn’t explain how you know he’s reacting to visions — which, by the way, you told me weren’t actually visions, Melot?” you noted.

“Call them visions for simplicity, I really couldn’t explain it. You’ll see for yourself, at some point.” Melot’s confidence when it came to this statement was haunting. “Back to the question: Mike… how?”

“You react in a similar way to immediate anticipation,” Mike explained. “It’s subtler — duller, almost — but it’s distinct.”

You both looked at him in awe. “How is your gift stronger and more sophisticated after four decades than mine are after fourteen centuries?” Melot exclaimed dramatically.

“I use this gift all the time,” Mike explained with a big, goofy smile. “It’s not like seeing the future, which isn’t a stable gift to begin with — yeah, I pay attention to the things Sherlock says sometimes — or the healing, which you literally just admitted to not practicing for the first few centuries of your existence. Bet you could get into med school with that…”

“I don’t want to,” Mel whispered.

“See? You can’t complain about not developing a gift you refuse to use.” Mike saying something that smart and logical was a phenomenon that just never got old. “Right now, what we should be developing, anyway, is your ability to function around humans.”

You just so happened to have an idea on how to do that…

[fancyfeathers]

@istgtumlrifyoudothisonemoretime asked a question

Honestly, before their marriage, it would be funny if author darling was jokingly shipped with the lord of crime. People would joke about how the crime lord probably has a boy crush on the lady, and is attempting to get her attention. The jokes would horrify her since she has no idea who this man even is and what he wants. I like the idea that these jokes soon become rumors. That she is perhaps his mistress, aiding him in his crimes through her writing and is somehow involved with him. The rumors are so bad that she has to socially withdraw for some time. Maybe in the mordern times, years later, literature fans create love stories based on this incident and this spawns a complete sub genre of romance😂

And Then There Were None (Yandere William James Moriarty /w Author Darling Masterlist)

I firmly believe this rumor would have been started by her friends at the author’s club she is a a part of, it is truly meant to be a harmless joke and if was funny at first. They would be sitting in the club, that I picture to have a similar vibe to a gentleman’s club but not with the same purpose, and she would be sharing a glass of wine and having a smoke with her friends when the maid comes in with a paper and the headline story covers a recent murder based on her books and of course the story clearly bothers her and one of her friends, a writer from New York City, tries to lighten the mood and crack a joke.

“Looks like the Lord of Crime left a gift for his lady love.”

“Oh shut up-“

Laughter follows from everyone as she slaps him with her glove, and the topic is made a joke between the writer’s club, for now that is.

The joke is made between them when they meet, but soon the joke becomes less and less funny, especially when word slips to the press about this joke and London explodes with this rumor and it’s not a joke anymore. She is terrified, it makes it seem like she is partially behind these murders. She is pressed by the police and is questioned by the press. She may go off abroad or to the country for a time, but it does not help because the rumors only grow.

“Do you know who the Lord of Crime is?”

“You were on the train at the time of the first incident, any comments?”

“Are the other members of the writing club involved with these murders.”

She pushes her way into the writer’s club, pass the reporters and all her friends are sitting in the club, in equal distress at the situation. They all sit, but their light hearted conversations over wine and a smoke are over and are replaced with a tense silence. The room fills with smoke from their cigarettes and the darling of the lord of crime can only stare up at the ceiling in a daze due to the distress of her situation.

“Excuse me my lady, but there is a telegram for you.”

The voice of the club’s maid speaks to her and she sits up from the couch she laid out on, pulling her cigarette from her lips and the maid hands her the slip of paper and she reads it over and her friends’ attention turn to her as her look turns to slight curiosity.

“What is it?”

“A Mr. Sherlock Holmes would like to meet with me, he asks for my services and help in his investigation.”

And for a time she ignores him and it is not until me meets her in person that she decides to work with him and her doomed investigation begins.

She still shows up to the club during the investigation, getting help from her friends but her investigation only draws more eyes. Her neighbors see her leave her house in late hours of the night going to a murder scene with the detective.

“I bet she is sleeping with the murderer, ruining herself in more than one way.”

“Did you see her drawing room? It looks like the work of the madman with all those papers, she should have just married, this murder mystery business is getting to her head, but I suppose that matches with her lover.”

And that is when she fakes her disappearance and when she reappears to the public eye she disappears from the writing scene, fading away to hide from the rumors….

Then when she publishes her next novel, she has a ring on her finger and called Mrs. Moriarty.

With their marriage the rumors are proven false…

But of course not every one is fooled.

Her friends at the writer’s club, that she has been absent from even in her return to the media scene, have connected the dots and they all sit in the cigarette smoke filled room, reading over the newspaper with the headline being of her marriage, who they were not even invited to…

“Seems like we found our Lord of Crime.”

But I’m just picturing them being like the next Bonnie and Clyde in the public eye years later, but she was no Bonnie and just was the victim of the situation and a dark romance novel come out based on these events between the most famous and infamous writer of the time and the Lord of Crime, William James Moriarty. Then perhaps a history major who is investigating this case for their thesis and goes to look at the Moriarty estate and at first they find nothing, that is until they are walking in the couple’s bedroom and they hear a strange creek in the floorboards and they find the floorboard is loose, lifted up to reveal a journal. They sit down and read it and their reality is shattered, it’s all fake, she was the victim in all of this, not partners in crime, but a damsel in distress.

[castielmd]

Again "Hunteri Heroici"

Disclaimer: This is not a Winchester-friendly post.

What really upsets me whenever I think back on the seasons I've already watched [1-9], is that we get to know so little about Castiel and angels in general. This would be alright, considering that not everyone should get expansive lore. But Castiel is considered the "best friend" of one of the main characters and has stuck for countless of seasons. So why do we not know more about him and his backstory?

What really bugs me about it in particular, is that the main characters simply do not care or wish to learn more about their "friend". I've talked about the anvil episode before [S8EP8], and I shall bring it up again to make my point.

————

Castiel's unknown abilities.

At the time of S8EP8, Castiel has already been around for 4 seasons, more or less. This should've been enough time to gather knowledge of him, his capabilities, his origins. And yet, when Castiel decides to become a hunter and aid the Winchesters, a lot of what he does still surprises both of them.

He can "turn off angel radio".

Castiel [about the angel radio]: Oh, I couldn't say. I turned that off.

Sam: You can do that?

Castiel: Yes, it's a simple matter of blocking out certain subsonic frequencies. I could draw you a diagram if you want -

Dean: No, that's - We're good.

He's eager to share more about him and is willing to explain in ways the Winchesters can comprehend. Yet, he's immediately shut down before he can even finish his sentence. The active case is not an excuse for this — they could've taken up his offer but set it to a later time. They just don't care to understand.

He can listen to the police radio without any device, since it's all just waves. [At least Sam is openly surprised at this revelation.]

Castiel: Something is coming across the police band.

Sam: Wait, you can hear that?

Castiel: It's all waves.

Dean and Sam exchange looks.

Shouldn't your "friends" who have now known you for quite some time at least know what you can do? I'm honestly surprised they don't: not because I expected them to care, more so because they've always relied on Castiel for help in the past. At least as far as "usefulness" goes, they should've known more. They just have never bothered to ask. Why not?

Is it because anything to do with heaven immediately gets shut down because heaven and its inhabitants are just evil dicks? Is it because seeing Castiel possess skills much greater than them would be a reminder of the worlds separating them? Fear of inferiority? Fear of the unknown? Just the simple minded hate for the kind their friend is from? Afraid they'd have to recognize he is different than them despite their best efforts to pretend he's not?

———

Treatment of known abilities and Castiel's attempt to draw conclusions.

The next thing, Sam and Dean seemed to already know. Still, it's worth mentioning because of how they both handled it.

He can smell bodily diseases, detect sulfur or EMF and can see the human body down to the molecules.

He can determine if someone's been physically ill - which could help them exclude other causes that are not supernatural and save them the file reading. Not to mention EMF — which saves them from pulling out their devices. Why does Dean have to cut him short by demanding him to stop? No one but them was in the room anyway.

Dean: Cas, stop smelling the dead guy.

Castiel: Why? Now I know everything about this man and we can -

Sam: Do you know he was having an affair?

Castiel: What?

Dean: [while smiling] Strike one, Sherlock.

Castiel's assumption that he now knows everything was wrong — but this could've been an educating moment instead of a berating one.

Of course they are right when they say being physically ill isn't all you have to know to solve a case. The social circumstances of a person obviously do matter — Castiel is new at this (at least this close) so why is he ridiculed for a simple mistake made by not knowing better?

Some more talking about the explanation why she was having an affair via Sam. Then, scene ends with:

Dean: Heh. Guy was living a lie and it came back to bite him in the ticker. [inhales and turns to leave] But nice job on the bladder infection.

Dean could've just left it at "Strike one, Sherlock.". Yet he had to go and deliver another blow to Castiel as he left. I can accept the first one as playful banter, the second one however is just mean. It's just to shove it in Castiels face that they know better, are better, even without "angelic powers".

The demand for Castiel to stop could be reasoned with Dean just being weirded out [he is smelling a corpse after all]. However, the dislike towards what Castiel can do is clearly shown with the last jab at him; "nice job on the bladder infection."

It's really astonishing to me how even Castiel's objectively useful skills cannot take the hurdle that is the Winchesters apprehension towards what he is.

This is shown within the start of the episode even. After Castiel tells them he plans on becoming a hunter and informed them about a case, scene develops as follows:

Castiel: Excellent. I'll see you there.

Dean: Wait, Cas. Cas! You wanna play cowboys and bloodsuckers, that's fine. But you're gonna stick with us, okay? None of this zapping around crap. Capiche?

Castiel [looking away]: Yeah, I capiche.

Dean: Alright then.

Castiel: Can I uh at least ride in the front seat?

Dean and Sam: No.

First weird thing is talking about Castiel's plan to become a hunter in a metaphor to a game — yeah maybe that's just how Dean always speaks: funny metaphors, taking the seriousness out of situations. He could watch what and how he says it to his friend who's not doing well.

Secondly, the "zapping around crap". Crap? Come on now. What actually upset me about this, was the audacity to command it without solid reasoning. Castiel could've easily (e.g.) scouted the area, check out the body beforehand, yada yada — because he would've been there sooner.

Instead he's forced to sit in the backseat, drive with them.

Then of course there is the famed "I was being bad cop." - "You were being bad everything". Before I had known the context, I actually considered this funny. Now not so much anymore.

Castiel revealed that he had done research (!) on interrogation (here I am asking myself: when?) and then goes on to "bad cop" the women. Was it a terrible attempt? Yes. But it also was one of his first times. Dean and Sam did this for years. Without considering that fact, he's berated with a cutting comment from Dean again. At least this time he tells Castiel to listen how Sam does it [likely implicating that Castiel should learn from Sam].

Why not "It's good that you've done research but movies aren't actually portraying reality. You'll scare them so they won't tell you anything or they'll get mad at accusations." Yeah yeah, because this is Dean and Dean can't do compliments or direct, honest communication and he also talks with Sam like this. That doesn't make it better - it's an explanation but not an excuse.

All it would've taken to not be an ass was take Castiel out of the situation and save the comment. I'm not asking for a full on teaching moment there, but they've got plenty time in the car or in their motel room.

[Reason I considered this funny before was because I assumed it was banter between friends. Now knowing what Castiel has to deal with, how his mental state is, I think it's unfitting and inconsiderate behavior.]

———

Castiel's character.

Moving on from the underappreciated abilities Castiel possesses, I come to the blatant misperception Dean has about Castiel. It was actually shocking to me. They spoke in a motel room, where Dean then tries to convince Castiel to return to heaven and figure out what or who brought him back from purgatory.

Dean: How are you feeling, Cas?

Castiel: Fine.

Dean: Well, I just- I know that when I got puked out of purgatory it took me a few weeks to find my sea legs.

Castiel: I'm fine.

Dean: Well, don't get me wrong. I'm happy you're back. I'm frigging thrilled. It's just this whole mysterious resurrection thing. It always has one mother of a downside.

This is likely a reach, but the inquiry into Castiel's feelings doesn't seem very sincere to me in that scene. It did (!) up until the point where Dean rapidly moves onto the topic of Castiel's unexplained resurrection. How would the question about his well-being lead to the question of who resurrected him? It appears as if he's more curious about this than how Castiel is actually doing after purgatory.

Castiel: So, what do you want me to do?

Dean: Maybe take a trip upstairs.

Castiel: To heaven?

Dean: Yeah, poke around, see if the god-squad can tell us how you got out.

Castiel: No.

Dean: Look man, I hate those flying-ass monkeys just as much as you do, but-

Castiel: Dean, I said no!

To me, it was [to a degree] reasonable why Dean would request Castiel to return to heaven, despite Castiel saying that he wants nothing to do with that place anymore earlier. Resurrections without consequences never really happen in their universe. The way he went about it, however, is wrong.

What really struck me was Dean's last sentence. How little does he have to know Castiel to assume he shares his warped view on angels? How little tact does he have to possess to call angels "flying-ass monkeys" to another angel's face — to whom they are family. How can you spew hatred about a species to the one who is entirely part of it?

I truly wonder how Castiel perceives this. If he takes this as Dean separating him from them, severing a bond he wishes to nuture. Or if he assumes that Dean hates him too and only tolerates him for what use he can offer.

Dean: [after walking over to Castiel] Talk to me.

Castiel: Dean, I-. When I was bad and I had all those things, the leviathans writhing inside me, I caused a lot of suffering on earth...but I devastated heaven. I vaporized thousands of my own kind. And I can't go back.

Dean: Because if you do, the angels will kill you.

Castiel: Because if I see what heaven has become - what I [sighs] what I made of it - I'm afraid I might kill myself.

I love that Castiel here stands by his family and openly points out that he is one of them [...thousands of my own kind.]. He doesn't directly tell Dean he's wrong, but what and how he goes on to explain himself tells you all you need to know.

Dean can't understand why Castiel can't go back until he spells it out for him, because he's unable to acknowledge the relationship Castiel has with heaven, with the angels, with god. He cannot see the emotions Castiel shows because to him, the other angels are Castiel's frat bros, the god-squad. Never sister or brother. Never the same kind.

So logically to him, the only explanation is that Castiel fears the consequences of his actions. He doesn't hear the grief and regret Castiel carries for what he's done — which is ultimately the reason he doesn't want to return. To see what he brought upon his home, his family; that this would be too much.

————

Summarizing, the whole episode revealed that Dean and Sam actually lack significant knowledge of Castiel's capabilities and are horrible teachers. They don't recognize the potential Castiel possesses.

That's a long ass post now and I'm sure I lost the logical structure of it sometime in between.

[rey-jake-therapist]

The Lying Detective, self hatred and acceptance of abuse

There's something I need to let out of my chest about Sherlock and this episode in particular, cause it's the one that really opened my eyes about something very important regarding Sherlock: he hates himself. He really does, and because he hates himself he believes he deserves all the abuse he gets from the persons he loves.

At some point he says he believed he thought he was an idiot, because Mycroft kept repeating he was the smartest one when they were younger. That was until he met "ordinary people" and realized he was actually, you know, very smart compared to others. And yet, he kept believing that Mycroft was way above him in terms of intelligence. He accepted it, and because he accepted it he trusted him to know what was better for him. And Mycroft, in return, felt entitled to let him believe that Redbeard was a dog and not his childhood friend, and to hide him that he had a sister, who was also a murderer, who had let said friend rot in a well. He felt he had to do it because he didn't trust Sherlock to handle the truth. He thought he was what? too stupid to understand? Too sensitive?

Now don't get me wrong, I love Mycroft as a character, and I know that he did all that "for Sherlock's good", but at the end of the day, lying, manipulate a child's memory and repeating him all the time that he's stupid was textbook abuse. And Sherlock wouldn't have accepted to be called stupid, and would have probably seen that Mycroft wasn't THAT intelligent if he wasn't so deep in self-loathing. But then how was he supposed to love himself if he was always treated like the "slow one" of the family by his own big brother?

When Molly slapped him not once, but THREE TIMES, because he was high, again he didn't flinch, didn't protest. It's not an attack against Molly, I understand why she was upset at the sight of the man she loved destroying himself, but my point is: he could have considered that it wasn't her business, he could have told her to stop. But again, if someone he respects like Molly believes he deserves to be slapped, then he does.

Now John. Sorry guys, that's the hard part I have to say out loud. John was an excellent friend up until a certain time, no argument. One could even argue, and be right, that Sherlock was the abusive one for a while: he treated him like an idiot -but then Sherlock thinks everyone's an idiot except for Mycroft, ruined his first date, unintentionnally (or not) ruined several of his relationships by being obnoxious around his girlfriends, played dead for two years instead of confiding in him like any good friend would do, made him believe they would both die only to hear him say good things about him, I mean... Sherlock's definitely not an angel and for quite a long time, he was rather a shitty friend too. I guess growing up without friends, not even your own sibling will do that to you, but it's an explanation, not an excuse for being an asshole to everyone.

And yet John accepted him as he was, and always forgave him, so of course Sherlock came to idealize him like he idealized Mycroft, for different reasons of course. For the record, I love Sherlock and John's relationship/friendship/bromance/romance/whatever it is. Up until TLD at least I found it... precious. Yes Sherlock was an ass, more than once, but he acknowledged it, and showed he wanted to be better: he not only apologized, but he also grew to become a better person, someone who would be worth of John's affection.

What happened in The Lying Detective, though... what the hell happened? So John was sad because he lost Mary. Understandable. Even if popular theories like to claim he never loved her, his despair and the fact that he keeps her ghost with him all the time said it loud and clear: John loved Mary, very much indeed. And he was mad at Sherlock who he considered responsible for Mary's death. It was also understandable, if Sherlock hadn't shut his big mouth, yada yada... Ah I love to see a a female character fridged so two male characters can suffer and grow thanks to her sacrifice . But then what we know... happened, Sherlock was high as a kite, to the point he was very close to losing it completely he lost it completely, he took a scalpel and John, well, stopped him. But then John lashed on him. He BEAT HIM UP LIKE A PULP, which was at this point completely unjustifiable because Sherlock was no longer a threat, and he would have maybe killed him in his effort if two male nurses hadn't stopped him. But this post isn't about John and his disturbing lust for violence, not really. It's about Sherlock.

What Sherlock did? Nothing. Not one time did he try to defend himself. He took all the hits, didn't ask John to stop, just once again... Accepted. He accepted that he deserved John's violence, even said John was entitled to do that because he had "killed his wife". And Joh doubled down, "yes you killed my wife". But HE knew it wasn't true. Sherlock didn't, though. He was sick because he felt as if he had killed Mary herself, and that's why he was so adamant to grant her her last wish. As someone who hated myself for a long time, I totally recognized the impulse to take the blame for everything bad that happens. That's what Sherlock does, all the damn time.

Violence between men is often glossed over because the old say "boys will be boys". After all it wasn't the first time that John beat Sherlock up, he had done it after Sherlock came back from the dead but it was just for laughs and giggles then, "haha so funny John assaulted him three times, look his noise's bleeding, lol", and also the audience thought that Sherlock deserved it after all, so... it was fine, sort of. Notice that there too, Sherlock didn't try to fight back and didn't ask John to stop. Like, I still don't undrstand why John punched him the last time: because he told him he missed the thrill of the chase? What was wrong in saying that? Except that it was probably true? I'm personally never comfortable with the normalization of violence between men on TV especially when only one is actually fighting the other, but that's just me I guess.

In TLD it was very different. It wasn't funny, and it was certainly not ok. And I was very upset when at the end, not only John didn't apologize to his best friend for physically abusing him, but Sherlock was the one comforting him at the end. The man had almost been murdered by a serial killer, before that his second role model beat him like a pulp for a crime he didn't commit, and he was still the one being strong for John.

I have a big problem with the way this matter was handled, because John's violence was just.... forgotten. And if it had been the only time that he had expressed his anger against Sherlock with his fists, I'd agree it was just a bad moment in their relationship even though he'd still need to apologize for making it ok. But here there's nothing that tells Sherlock that John won't do it again; nothing that guarantees that the next time Sherlock will upset him, John won't lash out on him again, and it will be acceptable because for some reason, violence against a man is somehow ok.

The idea is, I suppose, that there's no power imbalance like there is between a man a woman. If Sherlock wanted to fight John he probably could easily win, he's strong and has enough fighting skills for that. That's not the problem. There IS a power imbalance in that Sherlock will always believe that John is entitled to be mad at him, thus to beat him up if he wants. And since John apparently never apologized for assaulting Sherlock, I have no idea if he realized how wrong it was, and if he intends to change. I don't know about you, but personally I thought texting a woman in secret from his wife wasn't a big deal compared to what he did to Sherlock, and yet that was the only thing that, apparently, John felt guilty of.

Sherlock really broke my heart when he told John that by saving his life, Mary had given it a value. Which meant, basically that before Mary's sacrifice, his life had no value whatsoever, at least in his eyes. Let that sink in for a minute.

"The Lying Detective" is a very fitting name for this episode and for Sherlock in general, because Sherlock doesn't just lie about being almost killed by Culverton Smith, he constantly lies to himself.

He did it when he claimed he fell back into his drug habits "for a case" -if he wanted to attract the press/Magnussen's attention on him there was a lot of things he could have done, he did it all his life about being devoid of feelings and emotions, did it about the reason why he literally offered his life to Culverton; yeah he wanted to "save John Watson" and honor Mary, but it was also about ending his own suffering, a result he hoped to get at best by catching Culverton Smith, at worst by dying.

No wonder why when Eurus challenged him to choose between John and Mycroft, he chose to kill himself. That's actually strange that she didn't see it coming. Probably she didn't know him as much as she thought. He made that choice because he thought he was the one deserving to die. Not Mycroft, not John, not even Eurus... Of course it was also a calculated risk, as he had understood at this point that he was the only one Eurus wanted to keep alive because everything she did was about him for some reason. But I truly believe he would have rather pulled the trigger and shot himself rather than killing Mycroft or John. I saw once someone claim that Mycroft knew Sherlock would choose to save John anyway and that's why he wanted to make things easier, but I think nothing's further for the truth. Sherlock would have never chosen. It would have always been him.

[akajustmerry]

on sherlock adaptations: what do you think of house

I have so Many thousands of thoughts of House as a Sherlock adaptation that I could write a book about it and chapter one would be called: A HOUSE IS NOT A HOLMES© because I don't CARE that they called him House and idc that his apartment is 221b and that he plays the violin sometimes and solves problems, that's not my friend Sherlock Holmes!!!!!

House doesn't work as a Sherlock adaptation because deduction as Holmes practices it in the stories is not SPECIALIST KNOWLEDGE!!! the whole appeal of Holmes is that you read it and you feel like you could also deduce things. Holmes teaches you a way to look at the world and be more observant and use that knowledge to help people.

Holmes isn't a politician or a policeman even, he's a guy who wants to help because he's studied a particular way to see the world and you can too.........House is a SPECIALIST DOCTOR with a typical Doctor's God complex. That's as far as you can get from Holmes!!! The whole point of Holmes is he's not part of an institution!!! He operates OUTSIDE OF IT. House's knowledge base is medically specialist, you can't engage with his deductive reasoning the way you can with Holmes in the stories because to know what he knows you have to go to med school for 20 years. There's never a sense when you watch that you could have figured it out. Also, House's job description is institutionalised and established. He's not doing anything (med malpractice aside) that wouldn't be in the scope of any other specialist.

Thirdly, Sherlock Holmes isn't a guy looking to have power of people. This is the thing that arguably pisses me off most about House which is the interpretation of Holmes as someone looking lord his intelligence over others. I think this comes from the prevailing tortured genus trope. But also people not being able to tell the difference between Sherlock as a character who is just very open about his observations and someone who's an asshole. Sherlock is actually a very honest character which sometimes yeah means he's harsh but mostly he's just truthful. House mutilates this trait beyond recognition to the point of near constant and unrealistic cruelty.

Finally, I think making Holmes a doctor literally means you can't actually have a Watson because arguably the whole point of Watson, other than to be the audience pov, is to add credibility to Sherlock's unorthodox career choice AND to provide a traditional scientific perspective. House being a Doctor means none of that is really needed. Everyone knows, understands, and respects what a Doctor is!!! Wilson as a Watson figure has nothing to do except be the audience's WTF POV. Even the way Wilson and House's friendship is done is simply, like.... they didn't read the source material. Do you get that these men are meant to be at the very least friends who enjoy each other's company?? Also I think people need to shut the fuck up about House MD being a secretly gay show. A show doing homophobia on the regular isn't gay in any way that matters.

I say all this as someone who's watched it and enjoyed it at times. House and Cuddy were literally like one of the first ships I ever shipped. Do you know how weird it is to be 15 rooting for 2 middle aged co-workers on tv to fuck?? Anyways, I have lots of other thoughts about how the show handles House's addiction and disabilities and how arguably these are also taken loosely from Holmes lore. But if House MD must be considered a Holmes adaptation, it's one that mostly just mutilates. Almost every criticism hbomberguy says in his Sherlock is Garbage video essay is also applicable to House MD.

[queerholmcs]

okay. you know the drill. i do need to elaborate on some of these, moreso than is allowed within the character limit of the polls; see the read more at the bottom of the post. yes it gets a bit long, i'm sorry, i'm not normal about this show, we've established this.

stop making me watch this. this is indecent. this is not suitable for public television. please get a room.

they all know sherlock and they know that he's insane. where they go wrong is in assuming that john must then be the sane one of the pair of them. (save mycroft; see number five.)

'here, use mine' as the obvious opener. but then we also get the bit where john returns to baker street and sherlock's like 'oh haha yeah i called you across town to ask you to send a text' and john gives him the most exasperated, reluctant look before giving sherlock his phone (heart). because at this point, there is no other option. (i won't say more. essays have already been written on the matter.)

the way a point is made to demonstrate sherlock's deliberate ignorance of molly's attempts at flirting. and john's painfully awkward attempts to hit on mycroft's PA. contrasted with their every moment on screen together. 'we can't giggle, it's a crime scene!' SHUT UP.

where do i start with this one. (mycroft is my favourite. i'm not sorry.) he puts so much effort into this stupid little trick and john completely holds his own against him. he's also the only one to see that john is also not sane and that as much as sherlock is going to be some sort of influence on john, john is going to do the same to sherlock. 'might we expect a happy announcement by the end of the week?' → 'i can see from your left hand that's not going to happen' → 'time to choose a side.' hello??????? thank goodness mark gatiss mycroft holmes is here to spell things out for us.

it all starts when john says 'i looked you up on the internet last night' (weird move, it has to be said) and then doesn't immediately praise sherlock's blog. but then he also doesn't tell sherlock to piss off for deducing him and airing his family secrets like that? and from that point on, every remotely clever thing sherlock says, he looks to john for his response. ('do you know you do that out loud?' 'sorry, i'll shut up.' 'no, it's... fine.') i maintain that he only points out anderson and donovan's little affair to show off for john.

look. do i even have to say anything here. we establish that everyone sherlock interacts with thinks he's gay. we establish that john and sherlock are both unattached and that girlfriends definitely aren't sherlock's area and that it's fine to have a boyfriend, by the way, john thinks this is fine, just if you wondered, he's also unattached and it's fine if girls aren't your cup of tea and have we mentioned they're both unattached? and they have what is about the most intimate eye contact ever for far too long while doing so.

chance or chess? play the game. engage with the story. read between the lines. is it a bluff? or a double bluff? or a triple bluff? play the game. (mention the game one more time. i dare you. shut up.)

this is in both the physical and the metaphorical sense. they have no concept of personal space, either of them, and it is a bit awkward for everyone else in the room who's forced to watch them make bedroom eyes at each other. on the metaphorical side—john is the first to say 'actually, it's not obvious, so get on with it and share your thoughts with the class, would you?' and '...bit not good, yeah. maybe be slightly more sensitive to people's emotions, there.' and 'you're so full of it. you absolutely do guess, admit it, i can tell when you're lying.' lestrade watches them interact for all of ten minutes and then declares that, though he's known sherlock for five years, he still doesn't know sherlock nearly as well as john does.

who is he? well, he's with sherlock. it's sherlock holmes and doctor watson. they're a set. (do not separate!) they go together, they are defined by each other, they balance each other far too perfectly to ever be removed again. welcome to The Dynamic. you'll never know peace again. (or is that just me?)

[aveline-amelia]

You couldn't kill your brother (shooting script for TFP)

So, I looked into this script when someone posted links to previous versions of the s4 shooting scripts. As far as I know, this was an actual version of the script for The Final Problem. If anyone has any evidence that this might not be real or accurate, please do tell me so I can add that in.

So, onto sharing some of my thoughts.

One line was that always stuck out to me as odd was Mycroft saying he never bullied Sherlock. That was such a strange word choice for him of all people. Only it was not his wording. In an earlier draft, Sherlock says: "You turned my sister into a ghost story to bully me." In the aired version, they cut the bully part out, but left in Mycroft's response.

They also changed Sherlock's line to Mycroft from "do be quiet, dear" to "shut up, dear". Previously, it was actually John who says "Shut up, Mycroft" after he doesn't stay silent after Sherlock's line.

Now what I found strange was Ben C's delivery. Telling someone to shut up is usually done in a snappy way, but he says it rather calmly? And he still says "be quiet" later, which seems like a de-escalation? Like, he gets less mad that Mycroft won't listen?

Now in the new version, John says nothing and is completely silent. Why doesn't he say anything, wouldn't he also be interested in hearing the phone call?

There is also some new dialogue that was cut in the scene where Sherlock is forced to choose, such as Mycroft saying "for the greater good" and the line about flowers comes earlier, John saying to Mycroft he is the right soldier for the job and the smart one and Mycroft saying he is not and confessing to the Moriarty thing. Paraphrasing.

Also before giving the "how do you want me" line to Mycroft, Moriarty adds "fair enough."

My least favourite part was the narrative agreeing with Mummy Holmes about Sherlock being the grown up. At least in the aired version, I can headcanon we are not supposed to agree, but like this... ugh. Just ugh.

Now onto what I posted. If this is an actual scene, I have a thought to share.

Why on Earth would you cut this?

It adds so much. Sherlock trying to frame his reaction as an act of logic, before saying that, yes, he wasn't able to kill his brother. This being a revelation and a moment, implying Sherlock thought he was able to do it and being surprised he could not. He knew it was going to be hard, he says so, but he is surprised he wasn't able to go through with it.

Sherlock admitting he fears Eurus killed Mycroft, when in the aired version it was only implied and wasn't clear to everyone. Which makes me even more mad we never see the Holmes brothers talk about this! I will take a handshake at this point if they couldn't give us a hug. (with them as adults, I know we got one as children). And when I say that, I should clarify I want them both to be alive at that point and both to stay alive afterwards (sorry, my snarkiness is bleeding through. you know me ;)

Also just to end on a sad note I guess, and others noticed this before me, when Sherlock hugs and comforts Eurus, he at that point still fears she might have killed Mycroft (and is in middle of attempting to murder John). Yet she gets a hug...

[gorgeousundertow]

for the hbowar ask game, a, f, i, l, o, v, w (unrelated to the ask game: xoxoxoxo)

a. okay he's not underrated because I think people definitely like him but here's the thing I would smash Patterson like a hammer

f. ranking the shows oh no i'm so sorry everyone but i did not like...

4. The Pacific. I'm just being honest right now. I liked certain parts and certain characters A LOT but it all felt too disjointed and there were too many through lines and it was (this sounds bad bc war and trauma and tragedy but hey I watch tv for entertainment) depressing. I didn't like a war show bc war is depressing, I know how ridiculous that sound.

3. Masters of the Air. Not anywhere near as depressing, but much more disjointed. I couldn't track or find a connection with most of the characters. It felt like too much telling and not enough showing about what I should care about and I want to seeeeee these things.

2. Generation Kill is probably my second-favorite, but I think about it all the time (and by all the time I really do literally mean all. the. time.) so I have to wonder if that's inaccurate? But you guys. It's so fucking good don't take this slight rank of #2 to mean anything besides it's so fucking good and I love it.

Band of Brothers, because it was my first love. Because winnix. Because gorgeous cinematography. Because Liebgott's jugular. Because "Doing fine, Bill, thanks for asking." Because Dick Winters shaving. Because Nixon's suspenders. Because F Company got lost again. Because Joe Toye's brass knuckles.

i. wheeee the fun one!

@ep6bastogne Babe. But not just sweet thoughtful funny Babe although yes that but also sobbing for Julian Babe devastated eyes meeting Gene's in Hagenau Babe.

@screwby Ray ur just Ray-Ray. A sweet chaotic gremlin of such a good and emotionally available friend who is also more down to talk dick than anybody I know.

@lamialamia You give me Snafu vibes but hear me out. It's not tossing rocks in brain puddles Snaf, but Peer Into My Eyes to Check for Disease But Also For the Flirt Snaf.

@blood-mocha-latte I don't know you as well but you started this whole thing and should get as much Being Perceived as you deserve for all that effort. You've got the Very Excited and Delighted attitude of Luz Talking Through The Movie, but also Snug as a Bug nurturing Luz. I'm not even saying this because of Luztoye week, this is just what I'm getting.

l. hbowar does seem a lot less hectic. I've never really participated in other fandoms, but I've lurked around the edges of Good Omens and BBC Sherlock and. well.

o. okay i'm bout to get slapped but. i don't really get luztoye. Obviously I was there for "Just give me a goddamn drink" and several other key scenes but...I don't know!!! Obviously the textual clues are there and they are not subtle, I just don't quite get how the two personalities mesh. Excited to read more fics until I do get it *hides*

v. snippet:

“Nate’s already made contact,” Ray argued. “Go on, homes, bring her a drink, make small talk, compliment her shoes. Whatever, dude. See what you can get out of her.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Brad said.

Nate frowned. “You don’t think she’d be interested?”

Brad looked over to where Lara stood sipping her wine and pretending she wasn’t watching Nate’s every move. “I didn’t say that.”

Ray barked out a laugh. “Dude, I was listening in. She wants your tongue in her mouth, like, yesterday.”

Nate grinned widely and turned to make his way back over to Lara. Brad thought it would probably feel really good to punch something. 

“You okay there, Big Gay Brad?”

“Shut up, Ray.”

“Don’t worry, he can’t hear us. This is a special private channel just for you and me. You know, you could just tell him. You could walk right up to him and say, ‘Nate, your soulful green eyes and air of heroic tragedy give me a hard on like I’m a thirteen-year-old boy watching his cousin bounce naked on a trampoline. I want to suck all your pain and suffering right out through your dickhole.’”

w. What hbowar url I should have instead of my Fully Unrelated and Inscrutable url is an excellent question! Problem is Lenora/@screwby already stole the best one.

[pinievsev]

Mario Kart

Pairing: Ham Jinsik x GN!reader

Warnings: None

Synopsis: Here

AN: I wrote this at 5am while listening to Sherlock by shinee on repeat so don't blame me if it's bad 😞

"Jinsik. I told you I don't know how to play this."

"Pleaseeeee jagi! I'll teach you!"

For the past 30 minutes or so, your dork of a boyfriend has been begging you to play Mario Kart with him. Of course, you knew what the game was, you don't live under a rock but you never thought about actually playing it.

"Why don't you just text Hunter to come over? Or Yujun?" You asked trying, and failing miserably, to get him to leave you alone.

"I texted everyone, they're all busy. Pleaseee, just one round?" He kept begging, you groaned and shut off your laptop, making sure to save the project you had been working on.

"Fine. But only for a little while, I need to get this done by tonight" you pointed to the device on your desk, hinting to the science project you ended up having to do alone due to the uneven number of people in your class.

You smiled at the way his eyes sparkled, like an excited child getting the toy they had been wanting. You let him pull you out of your room and to the living room where his console was set up temporarily until his new desk arrived, seeing as he broke his old one after raging over a game.

You laughed at the memory and sat on the couch as you watched jinsik bring another controller over and hand it to you, you couldn't help but admire his smile. He took his own seat next to you and started teaching you the basics.

After about 3 hours of him continuously beating your ass in the game, even tho every other round you kept saying you'd beat him 'this time', you finally managed to win a round and then another one and another one after that.

You placed the controller down and turned to him, crossing your arms.you squinted your eyes.

"Don't think I can't tell you're letting me win on purpose." He chuckled at your words and poked your nose, pushing your glasses, that had slid down the bridge of your nose, back up.

"But you looked so sad every time you lost, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you be upset?" He batted his eyelashes at you, a sneaky smirk making it's way onto his features.

"I promise you, Ham Jinsik, I will win this time. And on my own" you glared picking the controller back up. You saw him shake his head from the corner of your eye but didn't bring it up.

-

"I told you-" you started turning to face his once more, only to see he was already looking at you, eyes wide and grinning widely. "What.?" No response.

"What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?" You asked once more, a small laugh accompanying your sentence.

"You won" he said "yeah because you let me. Right?" He shook his head "Nope, I didn't. I actually tried" your eyes widened, matching his.

"Are you being serious?" He nodded and reached up with both hands, pinching your cheeks and shaking your head "Look at youuuu, learning so quickly" he cooed at you. You slapped his hands away from your face "you're messing with me, you let me win again."

"I did nottttt" he whined, dramatically falling on your lap "please believe me" you stared down at him rolling your eyes at puppy face he was making.

"Alright, fine, I believe you princess, get up" he shook his head and closed his eyes. "Get upppp" you got the same response.

"I'm comfy here" he simply said making you groan "fine at least let me get my laptop? You can sleep while I work?" He whined for what felt like the one hundredth time in the past few hours but he sat up.

You retrieved your laptop from your room and got back to the living room, you saw Jinsik turning the console off and putting the controllers back in place.

He returned to his previous position not long after you had sat down, laying on your lap.

"Next time I will beat you fair and square"

"No you won't"

"Yujun will help me"

"Sure he will"