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#HOLM NATION LOOK AT HIM
littlelightfish · 4 months
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Holm <3
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False Confidence
Don't take yourself so seriously / Look at you all dressed up for someone you never see.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: Spencer and Y/N hate each other, they just don't realise they have been anonymously messaging for months.
Word Count: 2.8k
T/W: Mentions of murder and death
A/N: For @sackofpissandshit . I came up for the premise of this as a plate of prawns fell onto my head at work. Enjoy! ◡̈
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SherlockHolmes1887: You were right. 
You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face; you replied immediately, the half-drunk coffee in your hand forgotten. 
NapoleonOfCrime: Feel free to say that again.
He did.  
Briefly, you looked up from your phone to cross the road. You were on the way to work having just received a message from Hotch. It sounded urgent. 
NapoleonOfCrime: So what made you realise that, as per usual, I was right? 
You had spent the better part of the night trying to convince him that Sherlock Holmes was in love with Jim Moriarty. You had met him online several months ago, on an Arthur Conan Doyle forum and have been messaging ever since. 
He, except for the one and only Penelope Garcia, was your best friend. You told him everything. Except for who you are. 
Early on in talking you both had agreed not to exchange names, tell each other where you lived or what you did for a career. You knew what SherlockHolmes1887 favourite film was (Star Trek), that he liked wearing mismatched socks and his mum used to call him ‘Crash’ because he would crash into things when he was younger. You knew that, like you, he had four qualifications, liked Sherlock Holmes and had an unhealthy obsession with coffee. You just didn’t know his name. 
Your phone vibrated. 
SherlockHolmes1887: “The greatest schemer of all time, the organiser of every devilry, the controlling brain of the underworld, a brain which might have made or marred the destiny of nations—that's the man! But so aloof is he from general suspicion, so immune from criticism, so admirable in his management and self-effacement, that for those very words that you have uttered he could hale you to a court and emerge with your year's pension as a solatium for his wounded character. [...] Foulmouthed doctor and slandered professor—such would be your respective roles! That's genius, Watson.”
Your phone buzzed again. You silenced it as you walked into the BAU elevator. 
SherlockHolmes1887: I reread ‘The Valley of Fear’ last night. 
You were about to reply when a voice cried out. 
“Hold the door!” 
Instinctively, you stretched your arm out between the closing elevator doors. 
The person entered beside you. 
If you had known who had asked, you would have let the doors shut. 
Dr Spencer Reid leant on his cane, drumming his fingers against its metal top as the elevator moved upwards. He had recently been shot in the leg on a case. You would never tell him but when that gun fired, you thought you were going to be sick. Your heart ached. It made you hate him even more.
“Reid,” you said, staring forward. You refused to look at him.
“L/N,” He replied. 
That was the most words you’d exchanged in days. 
When the doors finally opened again, you both headed towards the round table, where the rest of the team was waiting. 
You and Spencer were the last to arrive. 
It’s not like him to be late, you thought.  
You took a seat between Emily Prentiss and Derek Morgan - you were sat as far away from Spencer as possible.
“Now that you are all here,” Hotch began, pulling you from your thoughts, “let’s begin.” 
Penelope connected her computer to the screen; there was a picture of a body. The flesh was rotten, decayed from what was evidently years hidden away. Your eyes are wide as you saw it: a long cut, rough and jagged, stretched from neck to naval. You recognised this signature. 
“The Brooklyn Butcher,” you said, interrupting the silence. 
Hotch nodded. 
It was a case that had occurred six years ago and ended up going cold. 
Spencer recalled, “Eleven women, all under the age of twenty-five, all with red hair, went missing and then their bodies always turned up three days later with a long knife wound across their torso.” 
“The only body,” you continued, “that was never discovered was Sharon Lewis’. The first to go missing. The wife of Mitch Lewis, the prime suspect during the investigation.” 
“Why wasn’t he arrested?” Derek asked. 
Spencer answered before you could, tucking a strand of his brown hair behind his ear. Why did you want to run your hands through his hair? 
“There was no evidence. The police’s only theory was his wife was his first kill and he killed all the other victims who resembled her in an attempt to relive the thrill of the kill.”
“He had an alibi for Sharon Lewis’ disappearance,” you added. 
“Correct - they also never found her body. They couldn’t prove their theory without her body.” 
“Well,” Hotch said, “they have now.” 
“Sharon Lewis, aged twenty-four, was the first victim in the Brooklyn Butcher killings. Cause of death, blunt force trauma to the head.” 
JJ leant back in her chair and pressed her pen to her lips, “So the cut was postmortem?”
“According to the coroners.” 
“But that was not the case for the rest of the victims?”
“No,” Hotch replied. 
“Our UNSUB gained confidence in his kills.” 
Lewis was likely his first-ever kill. You wanted to message Sherlock and ask him what he thought. He was intelligent beyond belief, you were sure he would add valuable insight to this case but you couldn’t tell him. Then he would know you worked for the Behavioural Analysis Unit. You couldn’t let him know that. He couldn’t know who you were. What would he think then? When he knew you were more comfortable around dead bodies than real people.
“How was the body discovered?” Spencer asked. 
Hotch had that dark look in his eyes, the one he got when an UNSUB scared him. You hadn’t seen that look in his eyes since Haley died. 
“The body was left on an empty police vehicle parked outside a station in Brooklyn. There was a note attached to it.”
Penelope clicked a button on her laptop and the slide changed to a screwed-up piece of paper nailed to the shoulder of the body. 
Hotch read it aloud, “You have three days before I kill another. Happy hunting, the Butcher.”
He stood up from his seat, “Selene Harker was reported missing twelve hours ago. We leave for New York now - wheels up in twenty. Penelope, you’re coming with us.” 
She smiled nervously, you gave her a discreet thumbs up. 
Everyone stood up from the round table and headed towards the door, you had grabbed the handle when Hotch stopped you.
“L/N, you need to stay here.”
You froze, confused. 
He continued, “Reid has not been cleared to fly by his doctors yet and I need you to go through the old Mitch Lewis interrogation clips, find out whether he told any lies. Stay in touch.” 
With that he left the room, leaving you there with Spencer before you had a second to protest. 
You weren’t really sure how you did it, it’s an ability you’ve had since you were a kid. It’s how you were flagged by the FBI. You could tell when people lied. Everyone has a tell and, like the lie-detecter you are, you knew how to spot it. 
When you and Reid had first met, three years ago, he had told you all the statistics about lies: “Did you know,” he had said, “10% of all lies can be defined as exaggerations, though 60% of all lies are considered to be deceptive.” 
You remembered how you had nodded, anxious as it was your first day. 
“Of all liars, 70% of them claim to be willing to do it again. Every week, Americans tell 11 lies. In a study of 11,366 lies told by 632 people over 91 days, 75% of them lied between 0 or 2 times per day.”
“You know a lot,” You had laughed. 
Reid seemed kind. You liked kind people; you dealt with a lot of horrible people growing up. 
“I have an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187.” 
That was the first time you and Spencer had ever spoken and it was the last time you ever spoke like friends. 
You spun on your heels to face Spencer. 
“You leave me alone and I’ll leave you be. Understood?” 
“Understood,” Spencer said, rolling his eyes. 
“God, you are so infuriating.”
“I hate you,” he retorted. 
You noticed the way his jaw tensed. 
You grinned, “Lie.” 
Spencer groaned and left the room. Through the window, you saw him take a seat at his desk. 
Laughing, you walked into Penelope’s office and pulled up the police footage. 
You were three hours into the Mitch Lewis footage and he had told three lies. 
The first was that he did not know what happened to the other victims. Although, this could mean he had read about the case online. 
The second was more interesting. Lewis said he was at the pub when his wife disappeared. Even though there was security camera footage to confirm this, he was lying, 
The third made your head spin. He said he didn’t kill her. True. He said he didn’t know where she was. Lie. 
You paused the interrogation and contacted Hotch to tell him what you had found. He replied telling you to take a break as they searched for Mitch Lewis. 
In an attempt to distract yourself, you reached for your phone and messaged Sherlock. 
NapoleonOfCrime: Hi.
He replied almost immediately. 
SherlockHolmes1887: Hey.
NapoleonOfCrime: So you read ‘The Valley of Fear’ in one night just to try and prove me wrong? 
SherlockHolmes1887: If that’s how you want to interpret it :) 
NapoleonOfCrime: And?
SherlockHolmes1887: And…they are very much in love. It’s almost blindingly obvious. 
NapoleonOfCrime: “It has been an intellectual treat for me to see the manner in which you have grappled with this case.” The definition of enemies to lovers.
SherlockHolmes1887: Enemies to lovers? 
You don’t think you ever smiled as much as when you did with him. 
NapoleonOfCrime: It’s better you don’t ask, or else I’ll be sending you links to Moriaty x Sherlock fan fiction.
SherlockHolmes1887: What are you doing right now?
Your fingers danced along the tiny keyboard on the phone screen.
NapoleonOfCrime: Work. You? 
SherlockHolmes1887: Work. 
NapoleonOfCrime: How is it? 
It made you nervous that he didn’t reply instantly. 
NapoleonOfCrime: Don’t worry, this isn’t me trying to figure out what you do or who you are. I like the mystery. 
SherlockHolmes1887: Horrible. But it’s not really work that’s the problem. There’s a girl. 
It hurt a little to know there was a girl, of course it did, but you didn’t mind. What you cared about was how he seemed distressed. 
NapoleonOfCrime: If you want to share, I’m a good listener. 
He typed for what seemed like an eternity. 
SherlockHolmes1887: We, her and I, have worked together for years. She’s smart and funny and beautiful. So beautiful. But she hates me. I messed up when we first met, I was so nervous around her that I just ignored her. Whenever she tried to speak to me, I would walk away or just act like she wasn’t there. And, now, I am finally more confident, she can’t even be near me without glaring in my direction at least once. 
You yearned for someone to talk about you that way. No one had ever told you that you were beautiful. You didn’t need someone to tell you because you didn’t believe it, it’s just that sometimes, on the inevitable bad days, you want to feel wanted. 
NapoleonOfCrime: I’m sure if you explain it to her, she will understand - you said she’s smart. I can see why you like her. 
SherlockHolmes1887: Yeah, I fell hard. 
I fell hard. 
You recalled what Hotch had said, “Cause of death, blunt force trauma to the head.” 
You recalled how the cut was messy and hesitant whilst the rest were neat. 
 You recalled how it was done postmortem whilst the rest were the cause of death. 
You ran out of Penelope’s office, straight to Dr Spencer Reid. 
“Spence,” you shouted.
You were both alone in the room. 
Spencer looked up from his phone. It was strange, to see him on a phone. You had always thought he was the type of person to hate technology. Instead, he seemed thoroughly invested in whatever was on his screen. 
“Who are you messaging?” You asked, acting causal.
“No one,” he said.
Lie.
“A girl?”
“No.” 
Lie.
Spencer’s face had gone bright red. It was cute; it made you smile. 
Why did it make you smile? 
You decided to change the topic before your face went red. 
“Do you have the coroner’s report?” You questioned. 
He dug through the many files covering his desk and held it up for you to see. 
Blunt force to the frontal lobe, that confirmed your suspicions. 
You stared into Spencer’s brown eyes.
“I know what happened to Sharon Lewis.” 
You explained how it must have happened. Sharon was reported missing by her friend at 19:37. She was supposed to be meeting her a 18:00. Mitch Lewis was at a bar from 17:30-20:01, this was confirmed by camera footage. This means that Lewis can’t have kidnapped his wife. Or, perhaps, she never went missing. She tripped getting ready to see her friend and fell down the staircase. She would have died upon impact.
Spencer nodded in agreement with your theory.
“When Lewis got home and saw his wife’s body sprawled out at the base of the stairs, he saw an opportunity…” 
“He dragged her downstairs to the basement, explaining the deep scratches on her back noted in the coroner’s report.” You said, “Lewis worked in construction, he had a table and tools down there, he said so in one of his interrogations. He placed her on that table and cut her. He butchered her. And then did the same to others to try and recreate the high of killing his wife.” 
“We need to call Hotch.” 
Four hours later and Mitch Lewis had confessed and was in police custody.
Derek and Emily had found Selene Harker chained to the very same table Lewis had carved his wife like a cold slab of meat. 
The team was on their way back from Quantico.
You found Spencer sitting on a bench outside the FBI building. Spinning the silver ring your grandmother gave you around your index finger, you sat down next to him. 
You both stared forward, at the road. 
You were glad that you weren’t the only one who was affected by cases like this. You were glad that you weren’t the only one overwhelmed by empathy. Your mother once told you that empathy without boundaries was self-destruction but you were just glad that after so much time in this field, you still felt something. 
Spencer eventually broke the silence. 
“It scares me, Y/N, how easy a life can end.” 
Spencer clutched his cane so tightly that his knuckles went white. 
Gently, you eased one of his hands off it and held it in yours. 
You could hear your blood rushing in your ears. It was deafening. 
“You know, when I was a kid, I was always tripping over things. I walked into doors, tables, you name it. My mum would call me ‘Crash.’”
He laughed dryly whilst your world began to crumble around you. 
You dropped Spencer’s hand. 
“Sh-she called you what?” 
Spencer turned to look at you, confusion and worry were etched across his face, “Y/N? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” 
It’s not that you were upset, in fact, you felt almost the opposite of that. 
Your voice was steadier than you expected when you spoke.
“He is the Napoleon of crime, Watson.”
“Y/N?”
“He is the organiser of half that is evil and of nearly all that is undetected in this great city.”
“It can’t be.” 
Spencer held his face in his hands. 
“Disappointed, Sherlock Holmes 1887?”
You said it mockingly but you were terrified of what Spencer would say. 
“No, Napoleon of Crime. Not even a little bit.”
True.
“You told me to explain how I felt to that girl so here goes. The first thing I noticed about you was your smile. I saw it from the other side of the room. And, Y/N, it was contagious. Just looking at you made me smile. You are so beautiful and so intelligent and I have wanted to tell you how desperately I liked you since the day we met.” 
He cradled your cheek with one hand. 
“And now I know that this whole time, as well as being the person I can see myself falling in love with, you are my best friend, my favourite, my person.” 
“I hate you, Spence,” you say just before you kiss him. 
Smiling against your lips, you hear him whisper, “Lie.” 
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starks-hero · 2 years
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brother dearest
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader
Summary: Mycroft had never considered himself to be overprotective. However, he isn't overly pleased with how smitten his little brother is with you...
Word Count: 1.8k
Warnings: John is the only one with any emotional intelligence and Mycroft is faced with the horrifying ordeal of realising his younger sibling is dating, so they're all idiots really
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Mycroft Holmes could practically feel his blood pressure rising. Confidential documents had been stolen from the very hands of the British government, putting the democratic well-being of an entire nation in jeopardy. And his little brother wouldn't answer the phone.
The moment word of the breach had gotten to Mycroft his first plan of action was to call Sherlock. Of course, he could have hypothetically dealt with the issue himself had it not required leg work. But to his dismay, contacting the youngest Holmes seemed to be as unlikely as winning the lottery.
Tossing dignity to the wind in the name of restoring balance to the western world, Mycroft stooped to the, in his opinion, ever embarrassing low of visiting Baker Street himself. He ascended the stairs, his displeasure evident in the weight of his steps, and refused to practice the common courtesy of knocking before entering the flat. Sherlock had lost that privilege when he refused to pick up the bloody phone.
Mycroft tutted with annoyance when he found both the living room and kitchen empty. Sherlock's coat, with whom he refused to go anywhere without, still hung idle on the clothes rack. He was in the flat and Mycroft was going to find him if he had to tear away every brick.
With all the begrudgement of a man who'd had his morning routine seriously uprooted, Mycroft marched towards Sherlock's bedroom and swung open the door.
He almost immediately wished he hadn't.
Sherlock lay sprawled out on the bed, white sheets twisting over alabaster skin. His eyes were shut, his hair a tangled mess of curls and you lay by his side.
Mycroft's jaw fell so quickly he expected it to unhinge and clatter against the floor with all the comedic effect of a nineties cartoon.
Sherlock's head rested against your shoulder whilst the lower half of your face was largely hidden by his curls. Your lips brushed his forehead in a prolonged kiss and Sherlock's arm was thrown over you almost possessively. Your own hand curled softly around the nape of his neck.
Disbelief, embarrassment and anger chased each other across Mycroft's expression before he settled with complete mortification. He couldn't explain it, not really, but seeing his little brother in bed with someone made him feel ridiculously nauseous.
Sherlock shifted, stretching out his limbs like a content cat before nuzzling closer to you.
Having no idea what else to do, the eldest Holmes shut the door. After a quick and failed attempt to purge the last few moments from his memory, he made his way back towards the living room.
He was met by John.
The doctor quickly did away with his fresh bag of groceries in order to make small talk, much to Mycroft's disdain. When John got around to the reason for his visit, and therefore Sherlock's current whereabouts, Mycroft shifted awkwardly.
“He seems to be occupied.”
A look of confusion clouded John's expression. He glanced down the hallway, jutting his thumb in the direction of Sherlock's room.
“I'm fairly certain he's just–” John's words were dissolved by the bitter look that was thrown his way by the eldest Holmes. “–oh, he didn't tell you?”
“Tell me what?” Mycroft asked with a painfully fake smile.
John swallowed thickly, suddenly very unhappy with the fact that he was the one that had to break the news to possibly the most powerful man in Britain that his little brother was seeing someone.
“He uh– he didn't tell you about himself and Y/N?”
Mycroft blinked. “It would appear he left out that minor detail.”
The silence that followed was awkward at best and utterly painful at worst. John, who wanted nothing more for the interaction to end but had no idea how to make that happen, nodded. Mycroft cleared his throat and readjusted his hold on his umbrella.
He glanced back towards his brother's room and John didn't miss the subtle glare he was trying to hide. Ah, so that's what this was about. John may not have shared Sherlock's observational skills but he did have a sister. He knew what overprotectiveness looked like.
“Mycroft, you do realise that Sherlock is an adult.”
“If that's what you would like to call him.”
“Right,” John dismissed quickly. “But he and Y/N are together. They have feelings–”
What was very much beginning to sound like a new rendition of ‘the birds and the bees’ was shortened by a scoff on Mycroft's behalf.
"My brother is barely capable of understanding his own feelings, you think he can handle someone else's?"
“You'd be surprised.”
Surprised was certainly one word for it. Mycroft simply couldn't imagine his brother being emotionally involved with anyone, regardless of how much imagination he tried to employ. He failed to imagine Sherlock in any situation that involved intimacy or vulnerability, let alone with you.
As if the very thought of you had doubled as a summoning spell, you entered the kitchen, steps lazy and eyes tired. If you were surprised to see the eldest Holmes you hid it well.
“Mycroft,” you greeted with a tight-lipped smile.
“Y/N.”
Your eyes moved between him and John, trying to piece together what exactly you'd walked into. John cleared his throat. You fought the urge to just go back to bed.
“Can I get you anything?” You motioned to the kitchen.
“My brother, if it's no trouble.”
“Showering,” you yawned. You decided not to add the bit where Sherlock had mentioned needing to ‘cool off before facing the devil so early in the morning’ upon realising his brother was in the living room. “He won't be long.”
“I see. I hate to show up unannounced. But I tried to call this morning and it seemed he was unavailable.”
You smirked despite yourself. Mycroft's grasp on his umbrella tightened.
After a few agonising moments that consisted of you cluelessly making yourself a morning cup of tea, Mycroft glaring holes into your back and John all but hiding behind his newspaper, Sherlock joined you.
His hair was damp, curls frizzed up due to the warm water. Mycroft hadn't seen it in such a state since Sherlock was a child. The unruly nature of his hair, as well as its tendency to make him look far less intimidating and far more endearing, often led to embarrassment. Which is why Mycroft was so surprised to see him so at ease.
Sherlock didn't so much as acknowledge his brother's existence as he made a beeline towards you, accepting the tea you offered and leaving a lazy kiss against the side of your head. He was smiling fondly all the while.
Said smile immediately fell when he spotted Mycroft. Sherlock muttered something about god under his breath and took a long, almost purposefully so, sip from his mug before speaking.
“Terrorist attack or security breach?”
Mycroft raised an unamused brow.
“It's ten o'clock on a Sunday morning, from my understanding you should be having tea with the prime minister or something–” Sherlock waved his free hand around dismissively. “You wouldn't be here if it wasn't of national importance. So which is it? Suspected terrorist attack or a security breach?”
“That, brother mine, is something you would have already been clued in on if you'd learned how to answer my calls.” Mycroft intended for his words to be somewhat scolding but judging by how Sherlock reclined in his chair and crossed his legs he figured his attempt at exerting some sort of authority over his younger brother had failed. “Now, it's not as threatening as initially believed but still relevant enough to warrant some sort of investigation. Which is why I need you to–”
His words fizzled out at the sight of you moving to stand behind Sherlock's chair. Your stance was relaxed, comfortable, as if you felt you belonged where you stood, as some sort of watchful protector. Mycroft glowered.
You seemed unfazed and Mycroft couldn't tell which he hated more, your hand now on Sherlock's shoulder or the fact that his brother was smirking because of it.
By some miracle, he managed to make it through the rest of the briefing without giving away just how much he wanted the floorboards to open up and swallow him.
He didn't know why the sight of you both together irritated him so much but by god was it getting under his skin. The glances you shared that Mycroft knew had hidden meanings behind them. How his brother, who needed a week's recovery in his room after any social interaction, preened under your touch. The youthful look in his eyes, the boyish smile. It was somehow painful to look at.
Mycroft could still recall when he was the only one that could placate his brother. When they were children, spending hours in their garden estate, finding insects and frogs and recalling their Latin names. Anything to keep their brilliant young minds entertained. He remembered how Sherlock would light up with each new nugget of information Mycroft gave him. Even into their teenage years, he was the one Sherlock trusted, the one he looked to for help and guidance. It had always been him.
But now, now there was you.
He had you to confide in. To talk to. To irritate with a tirade of useless facts that anyone else would think irrelevant. He had you to look out for him and comfort him and Mycroft couldn't understand why this was angering him so–
Oh.
The notion that his little brother had, in fact, grown up and didn't need him anymore came as a very unwelcome realisation. Mycroft had the sudden desire to leave the flat as promptly as he could.
“Well,” he cleared his throat. “I should be getting on. I trust you'll fill me in on your findings?”
Sherlock groaned, in agreement or dismissal it was hard to tell.
Mycroft, who now wanted nothing more than to leave, turned to make his way to the door. “Good day, doctor Watson.”
John nodded, not failing to notice the change in Mycroft's stance.
‘He's copped on then.’
Partially because of your closeness to the door and partially in an attempt to rectify whatever you'd done to wrong Mycroft, you moved to show him out.
He passed you silently but as you stepped back to close the door, he stopped you.
He seemed uneasy, an emotion that looked unnatural and foreign on him. His nerves were infectious and you quickly found yourself growing anxious, expecting him to gift you with some horrific piece of information to pass on to Sherlock to save him from dealing with the mess of telling his brother himself.
His actual request was something much softer.
“Take care of him, will you?”
It took a few moments for you to blink away your surprise. As confused as you were, you nodded all the same.
“Of course.”
Mycroft responded with a nod of his own, offered a surprisingly genuine smile and then turned to leave. He'd descended the stairs entirely by the time you finally closed the flat door.
“What was that about?” Sherlock asked nonchalantly.
You shook your head. “Absolutely no idea.”
John took a sudden interest in his newspaper in an attempt to ignore just how hard he was biting his tongue.
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thank you for reading!
Sherlock tag list: @miraclesoflove @ilovefanfictions @mylovelysnowflake @quentawewe @bakerstreethound @andreasworlsboring101 @doozywoozy @xxinvisiblexx @the-worst-critic @the-queer-dungeoneer @jellyfishbeansontoast @starrykitn @starryeddie @ladymercury8 @themorningsunshine @evelynrosestuff @mywellspringoflife @simp-for-scammanders @Xhz17x @allieberries @kealohilani-tepise
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delicious-in-imagines · 4 months
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ur blog is so cool!! can you try holm (maybe jealous?) with a reader who he thinks is into kabru bc of his endless charm? with a happy ending pls <3
Waaa! Thank you!!
(Also man, three requests with Holm in them in a row???? The Holm Nation is eatin' good tonight!)
As always, requests are still OPEN!
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Holm Kranom
The two of you were thick as thieves, sharing little comments and friendly jabs about the others between the two of you. Plenty of gentle moments had passed between the two of you, and Holm had started to feel the tell-tale sensation of his heart skipping when he laid his eyes on you, or heard you laugh when Marillier would nudge against you with a soft 'bloop'.
He respected you too much to take the first leap without knowing for certain - but certainty was the one thing that he lacked in that moment. Too often he'd see you sharing your wonderful laughter with Kabru, a natural reaction to the man's comments. He wasn't blind, he knew that Kabru was charismatic and attractive - but that didn't make the ache in his chest any easier to bear.
He wouldn't fight you, if that was where your heart lie. It would hurt him and eat away at him, but your happiness was far more important to him. Even his undine would notice this change in him, her curious chiming and nudging against his face as he watches you from afar.
This would spark a change in him that you would notice, as he withdraws somewhat to give you the chance to spend more of your time with, who he assumes, is the object of your affections. This change is unwelcome however, as you begin to notice your shared interactions becoming sparser and sparser.
Which, if you have anything to say about it, won't last for long...
"Would you like to enlighten me on why you're ignoring me?"
Holm nearly jumps out of his skin as your voice echoes throughout the hall, and while he freezes up in his traditional way, Marillier wriggles happily in the air and floats over to you. You smile and gently offer up a finger to her to share some mana, though you don't let her excitement to see you distract you from your mission.
Finally, the gnome catches his bearings, and he tries not to let his anxiety at being caught show on his features... though, he's always been a terrible liar. He wonders if he should even try, though with a sigh, he decides that fessing up might be the best course of action.
"I just thought you'd rather share your time with some other members."
He answers truthfully, blinking in surprise as you settle yourself on the floor beside him. The look that you give him is incredulous, at best, and downright disbelieving at worst.
"Uh-huh." You hum, entertaining his thoughts for a moment. "Because any of the other's can hold a candle to you."
Holm splutters at the words, his head whipping to you as you laugh - though the sound isn't unkind.
"Oh, come on! Do you think I'm blind? I was talking to Kabru about you you know."
He's stunned further into silence, and when he stares at you for a long moment, you sigh, shaking your head with an exasperated fondness.
"I was talking to him about..."
"About?" He urges you to continue, finally managing to find his voice once again. You stare down at your hands for a long moment before turning to look him in the eye, a glint of determination held there, though his mind unhelpfully settles on the dust of flush across your features, and nearly misses the next words to come out of your mouth.
"About how to tell you about my feelings." You spit out, watching his face expectantly. The silence hangs between the two of you, though Marillier has no understanding of propriety in the situation. She chimes happily at the fact the two of you are near one another once again, which draws both of your attentions, and you both can't help but laugh at her antics.
"But I thought you liked Kabru...?" Holm finally asks, to which you shake your head.
"Nope, I just thought he may have some good advice for me - and it looks like he was right." He cocks a brow at you, and you continue to explain. "He, uh... might have clued me in - that you probably felt the same. He told me to just, get right to the heart of the matter!" You exclaim, thumping your fist into your palm, to which the undine wriggled in response. You look to Holm, who's feeling the warmth settle in his cheeks from your confession.
"Well... it looks like I have to thank Kabru." He hums, jumping as you laugh and thunk your head onto his shoulder. You look up at him, giving him a reserved expression, though the endearment was lingering in your eyes.
"And?" You ask, and he rubs his hands together slightly, shifting you slightly to the side to bring an arm over and around your shoulders. You practically melt against him, and you don't even need to hear the next words to know that his heart beats with yours.
"Of course I feel the same... you don't even need to ask."
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dealilcats · 4 months
Text
Have you ever thought about the fact that Macavity just sounds sick. Like, "very tall and thin", "eyes are sunken in", "coat dusted from neglect", "whiskers are uncombed", "he sways his head from side to side", "always wide awake".
Which makes sense. T.S.E. based him on Professor Moriarty, and sickness and 'uglyness' were often associated with evil in literature (think like Jekyll and Hyde), so Macavity is evil and he carries it on his body like an illness.
He has a "respectable" side, and he can be found "in a by street", "in the square", "resting, or a licking of his thumbs, or engaged in doing complicated long division sums". (The latter is, again, just a reference to Moriarty, but hilarious when applied to a cat, like the equivalent of whistling with hands behind your back).
Because all his crimes are either done for him, it seems, or carried out so efficiently, that he doesn't need to linger one moment. So that even though "the Secret service" swears up and down "it must've been Macavity", they have no real way to prove it.
When applied to Moriarty, this creates an evil mastermind:
"The greatest schemer of all time, the organizer of every devilry, the controlling brain of the underworld, a brain which might have made or marred the destiny of nations—that's the man!
But so aloof is he from general suspicion, so immune from criticism, so admirable in his management and self-effacement, that for those very words that you have uttered he could hale you to a court and emerge with your year's pension as a solatium for his wounded character."
Holmes, The Valley of Fear
"He is the Napoleon of crime, Watson. He is the organiser of half that is evil and of nearly all that is undetected in this great city..."
Holmes, "The Final Problem"
(Citations from wikipedia)
But then you remember Macavity is a cat, and so the idea that he's "broken every human law" is as preposterous as him being capable of complex equations. It's just exaggeration. There's no real consequences. Macavity does crime, he's as slimy and slippery as a snake, and he gets away with it, and it's funny because he's a damn cat, baffling the entirety of Scotland Yard.
But if we're talking song, that's an entirely different story. Demeter sings about him, and she's stricken with grief and fear, and she sounds like she's warning you to keep watching over your shoulder because you never know where you might (not) encounter him. Bombalurina seems mildly turned on, but it's not like she's paying him any compliments. They changed the line from "they say he cheats" to "I know he cheats", which along with "always wide awake" makes it sound like she's speaking from experience, and with the choreography sounds more like she's telling Demeter (but mostly the audience) not to believe whatever facade he may put up because, after all, he's a "monster of depravity".
And adding onto what I was saying earlier about sickness, with the way he's "not there" and no one can catch him, not even his footprints, he almost sounds like a ghost. Hell, apparently he has "powers of levitation". Demeter certainly looks like she's seen a ghost, like it's whispering in her ears and tormenting her with all that he's implied to have done to her.
And his costume is just as horrifying - in the 98 ver, the makeup is so over the top, the long claws, the messy fur, the sharp stripes, he looks nightmarish, and completely out of place when compared to the other cats. He matches the description to a T, he's exactly what you expected, and then some.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, the musical makes you think about the consequences of what he does. It's not a silly cat confusing the humans. It's a depravate spreading his sickness on anything he touches, who fascinates with his appearance, but still cannot hide what he really is - and the fact that he gets away with it is terrifying.
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s3raphimssins · 9 months
Note
Can I request Dazai x fem!reader in an arrange marriage??? Also a Royal AU?
I think id be a very cute oneshot!
Tysm
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷prompt: All the pretty stars shine for you my love, am I that girl you dream of? all those times I said that I'm your girl, you make me feel like your whole world. -pretty when you cry
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷pairings: Dazai x fem!reader royal au
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷warnings: royal problems that's it.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Felix's note: OMG! ofcourse, I love this request so much thank you for this, sorry if its a little long I got carried away also can you recognize one of the Enola Holmes reference?. pink hearts divider by: @cafekitsune &lt;3
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"hello Prince....?" you were standing next to a small boy after your parents told you you'll be spending a lot of time together.
"Dazai, and you are...? princess?"
" 'name' " you smiled reaching out to shake his hand. Your parents and Dazais Father smiled at you two and continued to carry on their conversation at the table. As you two talked to eachother at your own table. Due to the issues between 2 of the most prosperous nation, both the children were given in the marriage of one another. It was for diplomatic reasons.
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⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇
And that is how you ended up right now. As the two of you gre older your parents forced you together. Dazai's father training him to take the throne and you were forced to learn all the rules and regulations. "please, leave" you said annoyed, your parents were throwing you two an engagement ball in Dazais nation and he was here to pick you. You didn't mean to lash out on him but you've been learning since morning about your duties and how to run a nation all the while keeping within the lines.
You heard him sigh and leave as your stylist shut the door, to get ready. You stood on the platform and she picked some items of clothing for you. It wasn't that you didn't like Dazai, he was a charming prince who every commoner to royalty liked but you couldn't express or find the words to what you were feeling.
"oof" you huffed as the stylist tied your corset. You went to the dressing table to get everything done and after an hour you were ready. You exited the dressing room to be greeted by Dazai standing beside your door waiting. "you waited?" you asked a bit surprised. "Would rather stay here than out". He said looking at you like you were the most beautiful pearl in the ocean. He had thought about it. He didn't mind being engaged to you at all but he knew that you hated it. You weren't mean to him per say but agitated at the things you were forced to do.
"well then what are you waiting for? shall we go?" you asked and walked past him to open the door. You both walked the halls and all of the servants stared in awe at you two. You looking like a majestic angel and he a celestial being in his formal attire. He stopped in his tracks and you looked behind at him and raised a brow in a questioning look. He took out a white rose and put it in your hair. "well, thank you" you gave him a half smile while he returned it with a genuine smile "anything for my lady". You cringed at that "oh shut up". You two continued to walk to the car.
⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇
You reached the ball and heard the people saying how good you two looked, how some ladies and dutchess envied you. You two sat on the thrones next to your parents. As the ceremony commenced you couldn't help but look at Dazai and how he talked to people, how he acted and the little to no details you noticed about him. You wanted to be independent, to rule on your own if not for the stupid deal, you thought he was going to slow you down, but you cant help but feel attached to him, ofcourse he didn't have to know anytime sooner, or...as you planned?
Something made you ick at the Dutchess of your own state talked to Dazai, twirling her hair, laughing, fluttering her fan, and then in the end you saw her and Dazai leaving together in a room...wait IN A ROOM?! That's when you drew the line. Yes you were in denial about loving him and you didn't like the forcible engagement but he was still ENGAGED to you.
You stood up and began to walk to the room and opened the door to see the two talking. "Dear Fiance please tell me where the restroom is in your palace" it came off a bit passive aggressive but ok. . She looked at you and then spoke to Dazai "please sir, i've been meaning to talk to you". He says "perhaps another time i do share your interest" as he left the room to lead you to the bathroom. "your seeing the dutchess??". You said abit agitated.
"shes gone she was flustered. It's okay she wanted to discuss diplomatic relations." You rolled you eyes. "i'm telling you really i have no eyes for anyone but-". You went deep into thought zoning out not hearing what he says. He said something about the reason he gives you gifts or something before you tapped out remembering the first time you met. When your parents signed your life away. When you felt him grab your arm.
"Did you understand what i said?". "YES. you were saying that you..." you stopped to think remembering the times he did stuff for you, When Dazai comforted you after harsh lessons, when he brought you gifts. He looked at you with a serious expression. "It means I love you, now we must return outside Father is looking for me bu-". You interrupted "yes we must return we have much to talk about my dear dear lord you love me, and it appears i love you to" You looked at him with a soft smile. He smiled, not a smirk like usual, a genuine smile as he closed the gap between you two kissing you softly for real.
A Happily Ever After. <3
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illdiealonelyguy · 11 days
Text
Spencer Reid random headcanons
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I think a couple of these are actually canon (like the doctor who one) Anyways, I originally wrote these for fun, then remembered how much i enjoy reading other people's headcanons, so i thought i'd post these for anyone who'd like to read them... so enjoy...?
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~ He owns This Empty Northern Hemisphere by Gregory Alan Isakov on vinyl.
~ He watches Doctor Who.
~ A physical media man.
~ Loves coffee, but to unwind after a case drinks herbal tea (thanks to Garcia. oh, and uses Mildred to drink out of)
~ Has about 10 books haphazardly stacked on his bedside table at all times.
~ Loves The Little Prince - and can even be one for appreciating the film - it makes him cry.
~ Owns a jellycat - courtesy of a shopping spree JJ, Prentiss and Garcia went on once - it lives on his bed, or his reading corner.
~ Watching Doctor Who led him to other british dramas - like Sherlock - and was taken aback by how much his apartment looks like how Sherlock's does in the series.
~ Keeps his own blanket from home on the jet - it's a creature comfort.
~ He loves lavender. He dabbles in the use of lavender oil before sleep and keeps lavender spray in his apartment for extra comfort.
~ Once travelled to watch one of Alex Blake's lectures after she left yet chickened out of actually talking to her.
~ 'England' by The National was listened to religiously when Emily was away with Interpol.
~ Decorates his apartment for the autumn season - pumpkin spice candles are a must.
~ Elle introduced him to Elliott Smith, through the song 'Clementine'
~ Really started drinking coffee after watching (and obsessing over) Twin Peaks and noting Agent Dale Cooper's enthusiastic dependency on the beverage.
~ Very reliant on the watch he always wears. Will never get a new one, just mends it if it breaks.
~ Enjoyer of Santo & Johnny.
~ His third space is the local library and coffee shop.
~ Trinkets are scattered all over his apartment. Crystals, fossils, the gifts his mother sends him when she writes to him.
~ On that thought, the facility she stays at has an abundance of herbal teas, so she sends a new tea for Spencer to try when she writes to him.
~ Collector of rare coins. After her time in London with Interpol, Emily brought Spencer a bag of rare £50p coins - including the Sherlock Holmes one - which he carries in his pocket at all times.
~ Classic horror fan.
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fancyfeathers · 8 days
Text
I had a thought about Yandere Mycroft Holmes after watching the movie Amsterdam last night, a spy/government agent darling
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His darling is from another country, perhaps America or France, because in the Victorian Era those governments were not exactly on good terms with the British Empire, but for the sake of this let’s say she is from America. She is merely sent to keep tabs on the overpowering nation, do what is necessary and sent updates to her superiors. She lives there, picking up new jobs and identities when needed, and keeping her eyes and ears open. Then one day she gets a new assignment from her supervisor, she is to retrieve documents that are in the possession by British Military Intelligence that have confidential information on American Military Personnel which could potentially expose her and other projects.
She picks up a new identity, getting paired with one of her fellow agents, a young man, the two of them dressing up as a wealthy young couple who has relatives in an American firearms company, a possession that would be less suspicious when they begins to ask questions. Her partner has to attempt to obtain a membership to the Diogenes Club or obtain a meeting with member there in the Stranger’s Room so he could look there for the documents. Meanwhile she had the back up plan of becoming friends with the wives of the men who worked in Military Intelligence so they could be invited to a party so they could sneak around and find the documents that way.
It is a long shot but both of them succeed in their goals, he is accepted into the club and she is welcomed into the social circle of women. She is unable to find the documents herself and he has an inkling that the documents are in the office of the founder of the club, Mycroft Holmes, and it is no secret of who he is. It is risky to poke that far and they think about potentially leaving it to the diplomats but if they do it will give the British Government to investigate the documents and find out where and who they are and their jobs as agents will be done and dead, the best case is being sent back to America and receiving a reward for their efforts and other jobs, worst case is that they are arrested and kept across the sea, far away from home. So the two do what they have to in order to get the job done.
One day when she is writing an update report back to their supervisor, her partner returns home and she almost calls out to him and tells him exactly what she is doing but he manages to interrupt her first from the other room…
“Dear, we have company.”
She wastes no time shoving the papers away before making her way into the front entryway to see her partner along with the one they have suspected of having the documents, Mycroft Holmes. Apparently Mycroft had approached her partner just outside of the club and wondering if he could spare some time to talk about potential business opportunities with the so-called firearms company they had relatives in. Her partner asks Mycroft to wait in the drawing room while he speaks to his wife. He takes Mycroft’s darling to another room and tells her to go to the now closed Diogenes Club and sneak into Mycroft’s office to get the documents and she is slightly confused and…
“He knows about me at least, I do not know if he knows that I know he- just go, say you are going out to meet a friend, but go.”
She listens to him, rushing out the back door while her partner goes to deal with Mycroft. She goes through a broken window to get into the club under the cover of night and certainly picks a few locks to get into Mycroft’s office but when she is rummaging around she finds nothing, not just the documents, but there is literally nothing there…
Then it hits her…
He knew this would happen…
It was a trap!
It clicks in her head when she hears the clicking of a draw back of a gun. She looks up to see another man, no doubt who works for Mycroft, across the room with a gun pointed at her, but judging by his smile she knew he was not intending to pull the trigger. She is frozen and has no where to go-
“Ah it seems she got quicker than planned, thank you for holding her up, Albert.”
Mycroft does not do anything like arrest her but rather just asks her to sit down with him in his office. He acts as if nothing is wrong when he takes out the very documents she was looking for from his jacket and sits down across from her, addressing her by her real name which she has never told him so clearly they had figures out the documents and it was all exposed.
“I knew from the start, your partner’s discomfort with his wedding band signaled how you were not married for four years, he kept on fidgeting with it in the club.”
The way he kept on pretending was just humiliate them in the end and the meeting was really just to inform her of this and also…
“You will not be returning to America.”
“W-What?”
“I negotiated a trade with the embassy last night, the promise and return of these documents and that we will never use them against your nation and in return we receive one of their top agents any of the knowledge they have on any potential threats to our nation.”
She really has no other choice but give Mycroft all of her old mission reports along with any oral knowledge she has. Her old partner was sent home and she asked him to tell her family what had happened while she works on transferring her life’s work over to another government. This could take weeks or even months of constant supervision and questioning and then when it is over and she has given what she has and wants to go home and asks her captor…
“No, the trade was made for you not just for your mind, besides they traded you over so willingly, clearly they go not care about you how you cared about them.”
She could not deny the fact that he was right.
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ananiel · 3 months
Note
Hi girlie!!! 😘😘 How are you doing? I was reading your post with Yandere! Louis x Witch! Reader and an idea popped in my mind.
How about Yandere! Mycroft and Yandere! Albert with Yae Miko! Reader from Genshin impact? Albert x Reader x Mycroft or if you want you can do them separate.
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I am good, thank You, hope You are good too😍
Yandere Albert x yae! reader x yandere Mycroft!
Tw : yandere themes, posible Gore, manipulation, forcing of relathionship, read at your own risk!
Also i am very sorry it took so long, i enter a major writing slump where i felt like everything i did was bad, but glad to be back now, also go check out @kanroji-san s crossovers, they are amazing
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When the people found about Teyvat and Their strange way of living, the first thing that the guvernement did was send people to learn more about them.
IT started of slow. Difrent soldiers, difrent people that maybe were in need of a new house, and because of the Free housing that the program offered, they were quick to accept this change.
The fartherst and the most misterious one by now, had been Inazuma, not many things were known about it, and some people even avoided talking about it period.
The queen demanded of Mycroft to know about everything, everything that those difrent people were, and telling her that they had no idea about one of the nations wasn't exactly ideal.
Now. Thinking of a timeline, i see this at the start of the moriarty plan. But maybe, in the Point where Mycroft knew about it, so, as some Time of resort in his mind to maybe protect the queen, he sends Albert, which of course, Albert figures out why, but doesn't say anything.
IT was but a long time later when they got the permision to go there, and it wasn't write by the shogun, but by you.
So that's how Albert arrived in Inazuma, the first people he tried to went to, were the guards, trying to ask how to get to You, and when he does get to the shrine, he is stunned.
"well hello, hello" You say with a teasing smile
Your soft voice was mesmerizing.
"ears..." that's all he said stunned.
"well of course, everyone has ears don't we? How would we hear if we didn't?"
He is caught embarased by her words, giving her a bow.
Why was he acting like this? Not even one lady in the whole England could make him bat an eye, and here he was, fangirling over a shrine maiden, one that posibly didn't even have the permision to return his feelings!
Oh... But the way she gigled... The teaser, the confident flirt, finally became the teased, it seemed.
And he was enjoying every bit of it.
Time passed quick with her, that he knew, that he realized, and he realized just how dangerous she was only when talking to others, talking when he could easily just be the best talking buddy, or whatever she wanted.
The moment the shine in his eyes returned after so much time was when, after telling him that she talked with the Raiden Shogun, she told him she would be coming to England with him.
Now he was extatic, he was making plans to be her guide, take her everywhere, show her the clothes of his time ( just for... Information purpose of course, not to make her look like she is his lover, wearing something matching the family and him)
But his ideas were crushed... Crushed by Mycroft Holmes.
When Mycroft Holmes saw You, he exhaled, what did Albert bring with him? A temptress? Is he out of his mind?
But no... You weren't a temptress, but a very, very important individual from your home land...one that made his head fuzzy if he thought too much about You.
Of course, he wasn't dumb, he saw how protective the hand Albert had on You was, how he stared down at him, with anger in his stare when he made You giggle...
You were a breath of fresh air, a little Fox brought here seemingly to play with them, to be played by you.
You weren't the most social buterfly, but weren't shy, quite the oposite, and they couldn't help but frown when You winked at someone, when You chuckeld or made them blush.
They weren't dumb, they knew eachother well enough to know they fansied You, both did, and they were ready to work togheter, all if it meant having You.
And You, You figured their obsession out, and were planing an escape, too bad that a certain crime consultant was on their side, being a third mind You didn't think of, and because of that
The crux left without you... Leaving You here... With them... Eternity is truly a cruel fate, isn't it? Especially without your Ei
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Text
Eric Bradner, Alayna Treene, and Kristen Holmes at CNN:
A 17-day stretch with few parallels in American history has upended what looked to Donald Trump’s campaign like a clear path to victory when the former president stepped on the Republican convention stage in Milwaukee. In that moment, a unified Republican Party had rallied around Trump after he survived an assassination attempt. His opponent, President Joe Biden, faced sagging poll numbers, sluggish fundraising and intraparty concerns over his own viability that were reaching a fever pitch.
And then the 2024 presidential race was turned on its head. Trump went off-script and into attack mode in his Thursday night speech to close the GOP convention, delivering sharply partisan remarks that undercut the calls for unity that had preceded him. Three days later, Biden exited the race. By that Monday evening, Democrats had so quickly coalesced around Vice President Kamala Harris that she had effectively cemented the nomination – and was well on her way to shattering fundraising records. Amid the newfound enthusiasm among Democrats, Trump’s campaign found itself grappling with unwelcome scrutiny over past comments his running mate, Ohio Sen. JD Vance, had made disparaging “childless cat ladies.” At the same time, Trump’s campaign was struggling to find a consistent line of attack against Harris – a challenge that culminated with Trump’s appearance at the National Association of Black Journalists’ convention in Chicago on Wednesday.
The former president seemed to abandon any pretense of a disciplined message and ignited controversy by spouting falsehoods about Harris’ racial heritage, claiming that the vice president – the daughter of immigrants from India and Jamaica – now “wants to be known as Black” after years of “only promoting Indian heritage.” His campaign then dug in and repeated those false attacks. Now, the 2024 race is in flux. Harris has erased Trump’s polling and fundraising advantage over Biden. The former president’s hopes of narrowing the Democratic advantage among Black and Latino voters are in question. And how voters will react to the Trump attacks reminiscent of 2016 is uncertain. [...] The campaign whirlwind of the past two weeks has left Democrats who had been dejected suddenly feeling a fresh sense of optimism, while Republicans wonder whether the unity from weeks ago will return in the closing chapter of the race – and hope that Trump and his allies can refocus on what’s now a much different challenge.
Going into the RNC in the immediate aftermath of the assassination attempt against Donald Trump, Trump’s campaign was riding high and appearing nigh unstoppable, as the Democrats had a dilemma of whether to keep or replace Joe Biden as the nominee.
But in that week, and ever since, Trump pissed away all the momentum and advantage he had by picking J.D. Vance as his ticketmate, made an unhinged stinker of an RNC speech after starting off on a unifying note, and his campaign flailing to respond to the replacement of Biden as the Democratic nominee in favor of Kamala Harris that has fired up Democrats.
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lazydoodlesandfanfic · 7 months
Text
SHERLOCK MASTERLIST
*DISCLAIMER: SOME STORIES MAY BE TAGGED FOR WRONG DEMOGRAPHIC (ie, Not GN, male or fem) IF SO, PLEASE POLITELTY INFORM ME SO I CAN FIX IT
SHERLOCK HOLMES
Testing His Deductions (Sherlock X Fem!Reader)
High Pitched (Sherlock X Fem!Reader)
Saturn (Sherlock X Fem!Reader)
Why Not? (Sherlock X Fem!Reader) Pt 1/ Pt 2
Fell In Love (Sherlock X Fem!Reader) Pt1 Pt2
I'm Looking Right At Him (Sherlock X Fem!Reader) Pt 1/ Pt 2
My Own Personal Hero (Sherlock X Fem!Reader)
Deaf (Sherlock X Fem!Reader)
John's Little Sister (Sherlock X Fem!Reader)
We're Married (Sherlock X Wife!Reader)
Arms (Sherlock X Reader)
Low Risk (Sherlock X Teen!Reader)
Old Actions (Sherlock X Teen!Reader)
Bad Day (Sherlock X Teen!Fem!Reader)
Who's Getting Together (Greaser!Sherlock X Fem!Greaser!Reader)
Deducing A Deducer (Sherlock X Teen!Reader)
Past Resemblance (Sherlock X Teen!Reader) *TW
Uncle Locky (Sherlock X Niece!Reader)
Not Feeling Loved (Sherlock X Daughter!Reader)
Binder (Sherlock X Trans!Son!Reader)
Favourite Big Brother! (Sherlock X Baby!Brother!Reader)
MYCROFT HOLMES
A Friend In Need (Mycroft X Fem!Reader) *TW
Dirty Little Secret (Mycroft X Fem!Reader)
Baby Sitter (Teen!Mycroft X Teen!Fem!Reader)
Falling In Love (Mycroft X Fem!Reader)
You Love Me? (Mycroft X Fem!Reader)
A Little Us (Mycroft X Wife!Reader)
Long Lasting Crush (Mycroft X Fem!Reader)
Upstairs Neighbour (Mycroft X Fem!Reader)
He Seems Nice (Moriarty X Fem!Reader)
Monsieur (Mycroft X Fem!Reader)
You'll Be Alright (Mycroft X Fem!Reader)
Secret Relationship (Mycroft X Moriarty!Fem!Reader)
Baby Holmes (Mycroft X Pregnant!Reader)
Personal Case (Mycroft X Reader)
I'll Be Your First (Mycroft X Reader)
Mycroft? (Mycroft X Reader)
Your First Time With Mycroft Holmes Would Include...
A Need For Attention (Mycroft X Daughter!Reader) Pt 1/ Pt 2
Honesty And Truth (Mycroft X Daughter!Reader)
Walk Away (Mycroft X Daughter!Reader)
Tattooed Skin (Mycroft X Daughter!Reader)
Still Proud (Mycroft X Daughter!Reader)
Tea Party (Mycroft X Daughter!Reader)
Affection (Mycroft X Daughter!Reader)
Babysitting (Child Mycroft X Baby!Reader)
JOHN WATSON
Mental Scars (John X Fem!Reader)
MORIARTY
Keep Her Safe (James Moriarty X Fem!Reader)
Unknowing Pawn (Moriarty X Holmes!Reader)
Based On Lies (Moriarty X Fem!Reader)
Expensive Flowers (Moriarty X Fem!Reader)
The Normal One (Moriarty X Holmes!Reader)
Sebby's Sister (Moriarty X Fem!Reader)
Excuse Me? (Moriarty X Fem!Reader)
Read You Like A Book (Moriarty X Reader)
Seven Nation Army (Mycroft X Reader)
View (Moriarty X Teen!Reader)
Moriarty Helping His Sister Through An Abusive Relationship Would -Include...
Moriarty Dating A Hobby Artist With Anger Issues Would Include...
Wanting Normalcy (Moriarty X Teen!Fem!Reader)
MULTIPLE
You Made Her Cry (John Watson X Sister Reader, Mycroft X Fem!Reader)
Her Revenge (Sherlock X Fem!Reader X Moriarty)
The Dress (Sherlock X Sister!Reader X Mycroft)
Like Her (Sherlock & Mycroft X Sister!Reader)
Newbie (Sherlock, John & Lestrade X Fem!Reader)
Fitting In With The Weirdos (Sherlock, Mycroft & John X Fem!Reader)
Drama Queens (Sherlock X Reader X Mycroft)
Not Part Of The Plan (Moriarty X Holmes!Sister!Reader X Moran)
Comparisons (Mycroft X Fem!Reader X Sherlock)
OTHER
Overprotective (Molly X Sister!Reader)
Happy Anniversary (Molly X Fem!Reader)
Spotting The Odd (Eurus Holmes X Teen!Fem!Reader)
Bonding Time (Eurus Holmes X Reader)
The Flirting Game (Lestrade X Fem!Reader)
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littlelightfish · 5 months
Text
Holm nation... I have a heartbreaking announcement to make.
We didn't get to see this panels animated.
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(I wanted to see Laios helping him, this one isn't the one this post is all about)
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I feel it's important to his character enough that Kui decided to dedicate three panels about how he aproaches and resurrects Kabru.
He is used to resurrecting people, his party sucks at keeping themselves alive. He walks up to Kabru's corpse with a worried look on his face. Then he kneels besides him and takes a second to process what he is seeing. He is seeing a young man, Kabru, dead. It makes him feel unseasy, a bit of shock that he can't take the luxury of process at the moment. He doesn't want to look, so he closes his eyes and focuses on his spell. He is realizing he is the only one alive from his party (he doesn't know where Mick is or how he is). He is the last one standing. The reality of it all slaps him in the face.
The panel of him just... looking at the mess Kabru's corpse is was just... It was important. It talked about him as a character. "I'm not doing this because I want to, but because I have to". He doesn't has time for emotions. He has a job to do.
It's just three panels. But they provide lots of context between the ones that came before and after.
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He doesn't just rubs Kabru's head because he's being afective. He does it because he cares. He does it out of relief. "As long as I'm here, any of you'll be dying soon. And I'll always be here. Don't worry." He is far from being OK after all this. Marillier died, Daya died, Kuro died, Kabru died, Rin died, Mick probably died too (but he doesn't saw it). He... By the time he was the only one standing, the fight was over, and he could alredy resurrect them. He wants to feel sad. To worry, to be concerned, to mourn. But he can't. It isn't necessary.
He is a cleric. He for sure has a notion of dead way different than anyone and feels a certain way about resurrection. "Dying is dying, even if you resurrect." It's a bug at the corner of his mind, he doesn't pay it any attention. He gets resurrected multiple times, he is gratefull he is alive. But seeing all his friends dead? And the most of them mutilated? Covered in their own blood? He has this desire to mourn. To cry the loss. To panic. "They are all dead."
He knows they'll come back. He has to make them come back. So he does. And they are alive. But they weren't a few seconds ago. And he just plays it off, he puts his calm face on as soon as there is another party member alive that could ask him what happened that it disturbed him so much. He throws all those sad feelings under the rug and focuses at the task at hand.
They're going to be ok, he just has to do his job: bring them back from death. They shouldn't even be dead. But they are. And he's going to fix it. No point on feeling sad about them dying if they can be alive soon!
I think the concern that the anime puts here it's something that could come close to what he feels inside. Those seconds are the only ones we see him looking something akin to worried for his friends.
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But then...
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His worry vanishes in seconds. The moment Kabru revives, he does it in such a "Kabru" way, that he tells himself: "This is fine, they're going to be back soon, nothing to worry about, I just have to hurry". He wants them all back to live. We know for sure that in his priority list there wasn't any "reviving Toshiro's party members first". He was going to make sure all his party, all his friends, were alive before even thinking of resurrecting other people if he still had the magic.
Those three panels they didn't animate are something that was there for a reason. To give depth to Holm. This last episode is definitely the one in wich he shines the most. He isn't the main character at all this episode, but he does the most important stuff on the background. He revives them all. This all lack of something if you don't show what Kuy drew on those panels.
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Here he just... goes to work. He says: "lemme handle it" and he does. No concern, no worry, no, nothing. He just does. No thoughts.
It makes me sad. Those panels were important. :(
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foxes-that-run · 3 months
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Two NYE ago means 2015 NYE right? Since Harry was with that girl, and she was pretty mad at that time, maybe she was reminiscing about their time together and hoping to find someone who'd stay and then after meeting Joe she repurposed it because she thought she found that love she was searching for with Joe. I think most of reputation is her repurposing songs/ideas that were about something/someone else. And Joe just fit but some songs definitely has part Joe in them too. So I guess she succeeded in that bait and switch thing
That video, (which Taylor Nation has cut at 24:38 from their version) is from Chicago 27 June 2018, so she is referring to NYE 2016/17. (side note: Harry was also in Chicago 30 June 2018. In his next show he changed the Lyrics to MMIH to 'running with thieves you'... a few weeks before Hamille ended due to cheating......)
We have been told a few things to tell us she was with Joe then:
In 2018 the Reputation magazines included photos from Stella McCartney's farm in Bishampton (on the pages adjacent to NYD) and in January 2016 Joe posted a photo of himself woods that also had trees... not the same trees, but OK... I guess.
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In 2019 in promo for A Christmas Carol Joe told interviewers he swims in Hampstead Heath every christmas, which many linked to Paper Rings, along with a very natural photo of Taylor painting a literal wall. And maybe he does, just him, his family and (long time lcy swim enthusiast) Harry Styles and by chance no one ever photographed or spoke about it.
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Then on 30 December 2020 Taylor was hacked and the only photos they got/leaked was 7 (rather odd) images of Taylor and Joe getting ready on that new years eve. Amazingly they had access to Taylor Swift's camera roll and only leaked 7 PG images that placed her with Joe the at the time of a story Taylor Nation edited out of one of their videos about an icy swim on NYE, almost on the anniversary of when they were taken. (The 7 Photos were in 2 drops, the proper (non-mirror) selfies leaked October 2021.)
So why do I doubt this? Any alternative version is pure speculation we don't know where Taylor was NYE 16/17. But the edited video is weird, and I find the above odd.
FIrstly New Year's Day seems like an 1989 outtake to me, the story also fits the NYE 2012/13 Haylor Kiss that did involve hardwood floors, a Taxi in which to squeeze hands, a lobby girls could carry shoes in and an insane crowd that did make it hard and probably made them feel lost. And she looked ready to cry performing it while she was dating Joe?
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Where was Harry on New Years Eve 2016/17?
Well he was spotted with Taylor on 28 December 2016 in Liverpool. Within a few days, one of his friends signed a record for Taylor to gift Austin Swift. Austin thanked the band who replied "when someone asks you to sign a record for their "friends little brother' and the friend turns out to be Taylor Swift."
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After being missing for a few days he was next seen taking photos with fans in Holmes Chapel (1.5 hours drive from Stella's farm) on New Years Eve.
But wait! Taylor said she and Joe had been together for 3 months in the Lover Journal? What she said was "we" maybe that was Joe and we didn't find out for another 5 months. Or maybe she was with someone else.... in this entry shaped like a butterfly.
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Updated with more.. so I question adding this and need to cavet that haylorsecrets was an account that claimed to have inside info from Taylors PR office and lost the inside connection (in hindsight after Taylor fired her publicist before Tree in 2014) they then had a friend who fed them some info. It may have all been made up, but they were right about some things. Looking for another post I saw these where she posted in February 2017 that Harry and Taylor had been together at christmas. (x, x)
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onceinawhilemoon · 5 months
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Sherlock may roll his eyes at his older brother's overly patriotic calls for action in his requests “The nation needs you. Make the Empire Proud,” but I imagine Mycroft writes them with a genuine sense of pride in Sherlock. He writes them knowing that Sherlock will solve the mystery and save the day, even if his brother doesn't always see the value of his contributions to the greater good, and he simply offers them out of personal interest to satisfy his curiosity.
Sure, his little brother may stray from the beaten path sometimes and do whatever he wants, heedless of all instructions. Sure, it's frustrating to no end, and sure, his carelessness may result in the rise of unwanted troubles, but Mycroft still chooses him to complete those missions over any of his agents, and that, I think, says a lot. And hey, even if Sherlock “fails” his mission, he can still learn a thing or two more about spycraft and gain experience, and that's a win in Mycroft's book.
Sherlock perceives it as Mycroft being “too lazy” to do his own bidding, so he enlists Sherlock to “run errands” for him and dump some weight on Sherlock to relieve some of his own, and yet, with a few sighs and grumbles, Sherlock still pursues them for his brother, which also says a lot a lot. That being said, I'm convinced those missions are thoroughly researched and meticulously selected for Sherlock because Mycroft is a total control freak and overprotective like that.
I don't know how exactly he picks the mission he thinks is appropriate for Sherlock, but there are a few stables that come to mind: 1. Despite his brother’s above-average mental faculties and aptitude for combat and disguise, Mycroft still considers the fact that his brother isn't trained in espionage and that there are a lot of things he’s yet to learn, and thus chooses missions for him accordingly. 2. He ensures that whatever he asks of Sherlock does not, in any way, shape, or form, compromise his brother's health, safety, or identity. I don’t think that he'd ever, for example, ask Sherlock to look into anything involving “M.”
And I like to think that it's Mycroft who fabricates those news stories afterward about how some “brilliant” and “rising” police inspector cracked the case in order to protect Sherlock's identity.
Request by request, mission by mission, Mycroft has been slowly training his brother with hopes that one day Sherlock might consider working together with him on a more regular basis and make a name for himself in Mycroft's world. If Sherlock agreed, they’d be a force to be reckoned with; a Holmes in Her Majesty’s Secret Service is already a force to be reckoned with, imagine if there were two.
His approach is heavy-handed and comes across as entitled and demanding, but what if Mycroft pushes Sherlock to work for/with him simply because he wants his brother close to him? What if his ideal scenario was him and Sherlock serving the nation side by side and getting along as brothers? It’d be easier to keep an eye on Sherlock that way, too, instead of having to run around and chase after him to make sure he doesn't get himself into serious trouble.
That day did come eventually, based on one of the endings, but oh boy, I don’t think Mycroft realized just how much like oil and water he and his brother really are.
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You're right about the other villains not having as much depth as Octavian. With most of them, we don’t even know their backstories!
Oh yeah, I said that.
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I should make a list of the villains that have somewhat of a backstory/motivation:
Dr. Hare: Dr. Harvey Hare was the lead scientist for NISS (National Institute of Silly Sciences). There he engineered a top-secret mind control device. The device malfunctioned during testing on a bunny rabbit, fusing him with it.
Copy Cat: Copy Cat made millions selling illegally copied music, but she was caught when she offered a bootlegged computer game to an undercover agent.
Sir Rebral: Sir Rebral believes he is descended from royalty. He was apprehended while stealing the crown jewels from the Queen of Arturus from Astro-Knights Island.
Speeding Spike: Spike was a car thief, and loved speeding.
Ratman: Ratman used trained rats to help him steal money and jewels, but his pets "ratted" on him, leading to his imprisonment.
Crusher: Crusher once stole a monster truck and smashed cars in a parking lot for fun.
Betty Jetty: Betty Jetty was a pilot who flew without a license.
Director D: He is bald and is embarrassed that he is bald, so he wants everyone to be bald too.
Vince Graves: Vince is a renegade archaeologist who is often found in Egypt looking for rare artifacts, and is willing to steal artifacts if necessary. When he finds something valuable, he quickly sells it to the highest bidder and then leaves.
Binary Bard: Mordred (Binary Bard's original name) brought technology to the Kingdom of Arturus. His unnatural experiments (aka cyborgs) led to his imprisonment. Mordred escaped prison and fled into space. His unfinished ship crashed on Pewter Moon, where he was gravely injured. He rebuilt himself as part man, part machine in order to survive, becoming the space tyrant Binary Bard.
Gretchen Grimlock: Gretchen Grimlock is the wealthy owner of Gretchen's Beauty Products, Inc. Her company uses endangered plants and animals in its products. One day while searching for a rare orchid she was attacked by Bigfoot, which caused her to start hunting cryptids.
The Shogun: He and his brother Basho trained as Samurai, but Basho decided to become good and left to be a ninja. Basho was angry at his brother for leaving, and stayed with the Samurai, eventually becoming a tyrant ruling over old Japan. 
Mr. Silva: He wanted to be a fireman. But now he's stuck as a science teacher.
Holmes: Holmes was a robot created by the scientist Dr. Harold Langley to compete in game shows. Eventually he became resentful that Langley was getting all the praise.
Henry Flatbottom: Henry was best friends with Valiant, but he also had a crush on Valiant's girlfriend Fiona. Years after Fiona rejected him, Henry used his power (he's the magistrate) to organize Valiant's death so Fiona could choose him instead.
Count Bram: He was turned into a vampire, and tried for years to come up with a cure for it. Eventually his wife died (because she's a human) and Bram lost his mind.
Mark Hertz: Used to work at Poptropica Headquarters, but left for MegaFightingBots because Poptropica wouldn't allow children to type anything in order to chat with each other.
Ringmaster Raven: Bird Boy was an orphan who was born with avian-esque features. He was used as a side-show attraction in a carnival until he was left behind at a town (accidentally or intentionally). Some time later, Bird Boy was accused of burning down a shop, although it is very heavily suggested that he was most likely framed by the real arsonist. He went into hiding until he was caught, and was driven out of the town as a result.
Myron Van Buren: MVB is the last living descendant of the legendary Van Buren hunting family. He became obsessed with proving his worth.
Scheherazade: Scheherazade and her father were poor traders. One day, her father found a genie lamp, and wished to be a sultan and his daughter a princess. The Sultan became obsessed with the genie and his new wealth, forgetting about Scheherazade, causing her to eventually run away and form the Forty Thieves.
Chthonians: The Chthonians were at war with the Mole People for centuries, but only because the Moles took one of their eggs (the Moles not knowing what it was).
Rumpelstiltskin: The Red Queen captured him and kept him locked in the treasury/prison for years.
Dr. Gramston: Dr. Gramston was a dentist on the Blandside, but her business was failing because half of the townspeople (the Goofside residents) refused to brush their teeth. One day Gramston fell through a hole in her office into the sewers, where she discovered the magical crystals that could turn things goofy or bland. She created a plot to turn the entire island bland.
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hellframe · 8 months
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Francis Abernathy: fake pince-nez
I was wondering where Francis ‘borrowed’ this accessory, so let there be some observations.
First of all, there’s a sassy definition of a typical dandy by Paul de Saint-Victor (La Presse, 21 August 1859):
'Black Prince of Elegance, the demigod of boredom who looked at the world with an eye as glassy as his pince-nez, suffering because his disarranged cravat had a crease, like ancient Sybarite who suffered because his rose was crushed.'
Then I thought that red hair combined with pince-nez reminds of Ezra Pound, known for his dandyish style and some other unpleasant things.
[Considering that Henry Winter could be read as a projection of T. S. Eliot, I think it's logical to compare Francis to Eliot's friend Pound, who edited The Waste Land, btw.]
Pince-nez also wore Mark Twain, another elegant redhead. Speaking of Twain, he left a description of one notable encounter in his Autobiography (vol. 2, 1924):
'Last night I was at a large dinner party at Norman Hapgood's palace uptown, and a very long and very slender gentleman was introduced to me — a gentleman with a fine, alert, and intellectual face, with a becoming gold pince-nez on his nose and clothed in an evening costume which was perfect from the broad spread of immaculate bosom to the rosetted slippers on his feet. His gait, his bows, and his intonations were those of an English gentleman, and I took him for an earl.'
Dapper-looking, tall, thin young gentleman in pince-nez, giving an impression of English aristocracy at uptown dinner parties. Doesn’t it sound like Francis?
Another possible source is 'The Adventure of the Golden Pince-Nez', one of Sherlock Holmes short stories. This pince-nez belongs to a refined and well-dressed lady, who committed an accidental murder, and then committed a suicide.
Eventually, when I was reading a review on Baudelaire’s last oeuvre, among his notes about Belgium I discovered a curious fact: Baudelaire complained that Belgians sold pince-nez with plain glass as a fashion accessory.
So I put my nose into that piece of prejudiced decadent writing:
'The pince-nez, with its cord, perched on the nose. A multitude of vitreous eyes, even among the officers. An optician told me that the majority of pince-nez that sells are clear glass. Thus this national pince-nez craze is nothing more than a pathetic effort to appear elegant and yet one more sign of the spirit of imitation and conformity.'
Late Fragments: Flares, My Heart Laid Bare, Prose Poems, Belgium Disrobed, trans. by Richard Sieburth (p. 301)
Francis bought his phony pince-nez in Belgium. That's it.
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