#multilingual sherlock

[consult-sherlockholmes]

Welche Sprachen sprechen Sie? (Not including English) I assume Deutsch is one of them. Español , Français, peut-être русский ?

Deutsch gehört offensichtlich dazu. Und die anderen auch. Ich glaube ich habe diese Frage schon zuvor beantwortet.

Außerdem Italienisch und Latein, ein wenig Japanisch und Mandarin. Serbisch habe ich großteils gelöscht aus Gründen.

[jay-wasstuff]

[days-of-storm]

Perth living his best life in Tokyo!

[incomingalbatross]

Trying to decide how the TARDIS handles her crew being around two groups of people with two different languages at the same time. Possibilities I've come up with so far:

Each group hears the TARDIS team speaking their own language, full stop; if you have, like, an Italian group and a German group, the Italians will hear the TARDIS team answering the Germans in Italian, and vice versa for the Germans

The TARDIS does a juggling act where the Germans hear the team speaking German to them and Italian to the Italians, and vice versa; gets messy when the team is trying to address both groups at once

The TARDIS just extends the translation field to EVERYONE in the room for as long as they're in the room; the Germans and Italians perceive each other as speaking their own language (probably has the most canon support, at least for Classic? Thinking about War Games specifically)

I think probably the most likely option is the TARDIS going You Are All Mutually Intelligible Now (And You're Not Going To Think Too Hard About This), at least pre-Time War when her translation circuits seem to work on a more subconscious level. I don't know if she could pull this trick off as effectively in NuWho.

Other, more complicated questions may arise when A) one of the TARDIS team intends to be perceived as speaking an unintelligible language (like Donna in Pompeii, but how would that work in Classic?) or B) when a multilingual character is trying to perceive the TARDIS crew (does their perception of which language they're hearing shift depending on context? Do they think the TARDIS team are also multilingual?).

I mean, probably the answer is just "the TARDIS bypasses all questions about which language they're hearing and they only comprehend context," judging by how extremely little any of this comes up in Classic. But still.

[prokopetz]

Okay, so: in early drafts of Jules Verne's 1870 novel Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, Captain Nemo is a Polish guy bent on revenge against the Russian Empire for the murder of his family in the January Uprising. Verne's editor objected on the grounds that Russia was a French ally at the time of the book's writing, and in the actual, published version of the story, Nemo's national origin and precisely which empire he's pissed off at are left unspecified.

Later, in the 1875 quasi-sequel The Mysterious Island, Nemo is retconned as an Indian noble out for revenge against the British for the murder of his family in the Indian Rebellion of 1857 – basically the same as the original plan, simply substituting a different uprising and a different empire. Verne's editor raised no objections this time around, because fuck the British, right? Though Twenty Thousand Leagues and The Mysterious Island aren't 100% compatible in their respective timelines, this version of Nemo has customarily been back-ported into adaptations of Twenty Thousand Leagues ever since.

Now here's the funny part: perhaps as a jab at his editor, Verne made a specific plot point in Twenty Thousand Leagues of Professor Aronnax repeatedly trying and failing to figure out where the fuck Nemo is from. At one point his attempt to pin down Nemo's accent is frustrated by Nemo's vast multilingualism. At another point, he tries and fails to trick Nemo by quizzing him about latitude and longitude.

(To contextualise that last bit, at the time the book was written, there was no international agreement on which line of longitude should be zero degrees, and many nations had their own prime meridians; Aronnax hoped to identify Nemo's national origin by calculating which meridian he was giving his longitudes relative to. Nemo, however, immediately spots the ploy, and announces that he'll use the Paris meridian in deference to the fact that Aronnax is a Frenchman.)

The upshot is that at no point in the course of any of this Sherlock Holmes bullshit does Aronnax ever bring up the colour of Nemo's skin as a potential clue. In light of the book's publication history, this is almost certainly simply because Verne hadn't decided that Nemo was Indian yet. However, taking into account The Mysterious Island's retcon, it retroactively makes Aronnax the least racist Frenchman ever.

[jessaerys]

how many languages a character can speak is often narrative shorthand for intelligence so it is not surprising to me that it comes up often in wammy's house headcanons but i do find interesting that people often restrict the kids to perhaps three or four including their canonical english & japanese. perhaps throw in there a fanon mothertongue for mello since he is the one with the more foreign sounding real name and therefore exoticized. it's a very usamerican centric perspective imo given how unusual the usa's homogeneity of language is when contrasted to the rest of the world. being multilingual is relatively common really but especially in the global south where dialects vary greatly from location to location. i'd put five to seven languages still in the "very impressive but still in within normal range in the real world" level of ~genius~, BUT we are talking death note which runs on what you can call sherlock holmes logic (the characters are intelligent and therefore impressive because the writer who controls what deductions are right and which aren't, has willed it so) so personally i think it's in line with canon for both mello and near to be highly proficient in at the very least around a dozen languages for which they may have had formal education at wammy's (i don't think it's a stretch that more resources would be allocated towards the education of 'promising' heirs while neglecting those who aren't in the running. hey just like in real life!!!) not to mention there's also the matter of language maintenance & immersion; speaking any given language is famously a use it or lose it skill, but if we take into account that near is probably speaking with law enforcement and government agencies all over the world during the 5 year timeskip and mello is traveling all over the world they would have had plenty of practice. on top of that you can add another dozen languages that they have some level of fluency in that is either lost due to lack of practice or superficial in its acquisition to begin with. basically what im saying is: near and mello can and should be able to communicate in functionally whatever language suits them and when they are arguing they switch to the one that has the exact right flavor of motherfucker they want to call each other that day. near gets very talkative in creole when he's intoxicated. mello has a record for most curse words ever learned that no one will ever know about. japanese makes them far more aware of the structure of their rivalry. and that's not even getting into the semiotics of it all re: languages not only informing but creating the world around you and therefore subtly influencing your personality and sorry where am i what year is it

[serenaew]

Dear Podficcer:

(last updated 2024/05/12)

Thank you for reading this letter. I'm honoured by your considering to pod something for me.

If I may make some requests, they are as following:

Main Fandoms:

Harry Potter (mostly Severitus or Snarry)

Doctor Who

Percy Jackson and the Olympians

Sherlock Holmes Multiverse (written works + BBC Sherlock + Elementary)

Science / Maths

Classical Music

Musicals

Fairy tales

Mythology (esp Roman, Greek, Chinese)

Likes:

Tropes:

Angst / Whump with happy ending (the happy or hopeful ending is a must!)

Hurt/Comfort

Mutual Pining

Time Travel

Fix-it

Fluff

Found Family

Fairytale AU

Elaborate or unexpected worldbuilding, factual information hidden in worldbuilding

Crossovers between any of the above fandoms

Formats:

Filk! or music element in songfic!

Poetry!

Epistolary

Not!fic

Experimental Works

Multilingual works (especially German, Chinese, French)

I'd be very honoured if you chose to pod something by me. I have given blanket permission here.

Do Not Wants:

Unhappy / very ambiguous ending (hopeful ending is okay)

Permanent main character death

Explicit dub-con/non-con

Toxic relationships between main characters (especially ongoing physical or emotional abuse from one main character towards another)

Underage under 16

Daddy Kink

Incest

Ongoing infidelity

RPFs of living or recently (<20 years) deceased people.

Content centering around current (<10 years) real-world events and politics

Let me know if you have any questions!

Cheers,

Serena

[j-eryewrites]

The Blind Banker (I)

Part 10 of The Arbitrary Lives of the Occupants of 221b Baker Street

Previous | Next

SERIES MASTER LIST | MAIN MASTER LIST

Word Count: 7.k 

Warnings: Crime scene description, description of a dead body, Sherlock is Sherlock, Y/N is a badass, Sebastian is a dick to Sherlock, fluff

Notes: I am writing Y/N as being multilingual. I myself am multilingual and love to use it/show off any chance I get.

__________________________

Y/N frantically dashed from the bus stop to the steps of the National Museum of Antiquities. The building's tall columns hover over her. Their structure soared up to the heavens as if the gods themselves resided there. Her coat swayed behind her as she climbed up the steps. An autumnal wind circulated her,  grazing her cheeks leaving a redness to them. Her hair danced along. She swiftly entered the museum and peered around for the polished man she now called her boyfriend. Her eyes landed on Jim. His custom-made suit heightens his edgy charm. His deep mahogany eyes caught sight of her and he flashed his million-dollar smile. She blushed under his gaze as her feet made their way to him. The memory of him asking her to be official still fresh in her mind. With his dazzling smile and eager eyes, there was no way she could have ever turned him down. 

She ran to him grasping him in a big hug. Then Y/N pulled away to offer Jim a quick kiss. 

“So glad you could make it in time,” he grinned. He took his hand to hold hers. “The demonstration is about to start.”

Y/N squeezed Jim’s hand excitedly. “I can’t believe you found out about this.”

He chuckled at her enthusiasm. “Well, I thought my girlfriend,” he enunciated, “who happens to love Chinese culture and speak the language would be interested. Guess I was right.” His Irish voice chirped. 

She leaned into his shoulder, wrapping her free hand around his arm as they walked. Jim led her to where a tour group was gathered. In the vast room there stood glass cases presenting antiques collected from the great land of china. Y/N’s eyes ogled at them as they passed. Her inner geek popped out to mention fun facts to Jim. He smiled and nodded as she told him. A lady entered the room, holding a Chinese clay tea set in her hand. Carefully the woman placed it down on a table in front of the group. Y/N stood on her tippy toes to peer over the heads of the guests in front of her. Jim noticing, took them to the side of the group, presenting Y/N with a perfect view of the presentation. 

The woman who sat before them was Chinese. She had a soft round face and beautiful dark eyes that held a peacefulness to them. The woman, who introduced herself as Soo Lin began the demonstration of an ancient tea ceremony. Her long delicate finger picked up the fragile centuries-old clay pots. It was as if these pots meant the world to her. 

Carefully, Soo Lin brought the tea to a boil and began pouring the liquid over the clay tea set. Some of the children in the group were awed as she did so. 

“The great artisans say the more the teapot is used, the more beautiful it becomes,” Soo Lin says.

Y/N watched in pure fascination as Soo Lin described the history of the practice. Jim gazed at Y/N with a softness in his eye, ignoring the presentation completely. 

“The pot is seasoned by repeatedly pouring tea over the surface,” Soo Lin explained in a heavy Chinese accent. “The deposit left on the clay creates this beautiful patina over time.”

Then Soo Lin holds up the wet teapot for the group to see. The clay pot was once dull but now shines like a diamond. 

“For some pots,” Soo Lin continues, “the clay has been burnished by tea made over four hundred years ago.” She places the pot down and begins to finalize her presentation. As the other guest turn away and move on to other exhibits, Y/N walks toward Soo Lin. 

“宜兴茶壶 (Yixing teapot)” she mentions. 

Soo Lin peeks up at Y/N, her ears twitching up and hearing her mother tongue. “你会说汉语吗？”

Y/N smile’s grows brighter as she hears the familiar language. Soo Lin focused on the woman in front of her. Her eyes filled with surprise. 

“对。我会说汉语,”Y/N replied. Soo Lin’s flashed a smile that matched hers. “我真的很喜欢你的演讲。你做得很好。“

”哪里哪里，“ Soo Lin chuckled. 

Jim looked fondly between the two women. His eyes widen as the conversation continued. He leaned into Y/N. His whisper tickled her ear. 

“What are you two talking about?” He wonders. 

Y/N shudders and slightly laughs. She motions to Soo Lin. “I’m just complimenting her on the presentation. That’s all.”

Soo Lin smiles and nods her head. “You’re girlfriend can speak quite good Chinese.” 

Y/N blushes and Jim responds by wrapping an arm around her waist. “She’s a woman of many talents.”

Y/N playful pats his chest and returns to Soo Lin. “I won’t keep you long, I’m sure you’ve got other things to do. Thanks again for the presentation.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” Soo Lin comments before returning to her work. 

Jim and Y/N turn around making their way out of the room. They continue to tour the rest of the museum. Y/N stops at every exhibit and Jim fixates on her figure. He admired her as if she, herself, was an antique piece of art to be treasured by all who visit the museum. Eventually, they made their way through the museum and exited the museum right as it began to close. 

“You sure liked those exhibits,” commented Jim. He smirked at her as she leaned into him. 

“I did,” She confirmed. “I especially enjoyed the Yixing teapot demonstration.” 

“Seems to me you enjoyed speaking to the lady more than any of the other exhibits we visited.” Jim poked at her and gleefully ran away from her as she tried to get him back. 

She laughed as he dodged her attempts to catch him. Finally, she caught him and he brought his lips to hers. Her breath was taken away. 

Shaking it off she continued, “Well, ya. It’s not every day you find someone who can speak mandarin.” 

Jim placed her hand in his and they continued meandering around the plaza. The lights of London illuminated their promenade. A pleasant silence fell over them as they approached the bus station. 

Jim turned to Y/N and said, “I’m going to be heading for Germany in a few days.” 

Y/N cocked her toward him. “You’re leaving?”

“Unfortunately I’m leaving the day after tomorrow,” He clarified. “I’m going to be gone for a few weeks at most. Business calls.”

Y/N groaned. “Really? Is there any way I can see you before you go?” 

Jim brought his hands to cup her face. “I’m free tomorrow night. If you would like to join me for a nice dinner.” His mocha eyes flicked between hers. 

She nods.”Promise you’ll call?” She pouts. 

Jim lovingly smiles. “Every day.”

 Y/N leans in to press a lingering kiss to his lips as the bus pulls up beside them to take her back to Baker Street. Reluctantly she lets go of Jim’s hand and enters the bus. She sits by the window and waves him goodbye as the bus pulls away from the station. Y/N rests her head on the window and solemnly peers out. It’s going to be a long few weeks. 

_____________________________________________________________________________________

It was a beautiful morning. The sun was high in the sky shining down its excellence for all to see. A rare occurrence in London late in the autumn season. On a day like this, Y/N dreamed of being outside and feeling the sun’s warm rays on her face but she was stuck in a bistro. Now, typically she wouldn’t complain about being in a bistro except it that it was outrageously far away from Baker Street. She had quite a struggle finding a bus to the location. Eventually, she had to settle on taking three different buses to reach the bistro. All because a certain bullheaded brother of her employer, Mycroft Holmes insisted on keeping up his appearance and staying under the radar, as he called it. 

Y/N couldn’t complain since the income that Mycroft was giving her kept her afloat despite her job working as Sherlock’s assistant. Mycroft increased her pay due to her proximity to his brother. 

Mycroft had cut all the niceties and skipped to the point. He demanded to know about Sherlock’s movements and whom he was involved with. Y/N, of course, told him everything to the best of her ability. Mycroft, jotting down everything she said. It did not take long for the interrogation to finish. 

Mycroft closed the notebook and pondered. “Are you engaging in any relations with my brother?” 

Y/N about choked on her tea. “What?!”

“You must be confused about my question,” Mycroft stated. “Let me explain, are you engaging in any romantic or sexual relat…” 

“Let me stop you right there, Mycroft.” Enunciated Y/N. “I am your brother’s assistant and ONLY his assistant.” Mycroft’s eyes narrowed at her. “I’ll have you know it I’m in a relationship with another man, and am in no way inclined into being in a relationship with Sherlock.”

Mycroft sat back and nodded his head, satisfied with the answer. He reached for his umbrella and stood up out of his seat. “I’ll see you next month, Ms. L/N.” Without another word, he was gone.

Y/N sighed and rested her head in her hands. Dealing with one Holmes brother was enough, but two. That’s where she drew the line. 

Just then the phone in her back pocket rang, and she was greeted with the familiar sound of John panicking. 

“I’m having a row with a chip-in-pin machine at the grocery store. Sherlock won’t pick up. And I’m about to break something.” Fumed John. 

In the background, an automated voice chimed, “Item not scanned. Please try again….Card not authorized…” 

“Alright, John” giggled Y/N, “I’m on my way. It’s going to be a while until I get there.” She grabbed her things and made her way out of the bistro. 

“Better than Sherlock,” John grumbled. “He is not picking up his phone.”

“Really?” She asked. She could hear John grunt on the other end of the phone. “Send me your location, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”  John sent her his location and she typed it into her maps. 

As she was walking, she tried calling Sherlock’s cell and was sent to voicemail. After a few times being sent to voicemail, she called her Aunt’s number. 

“Hello, this is Martha Hudson speaking.” Mrs.Hudson still hadn’t gotten used to the cell phone. 

Y/N chuckled, “Auntie M, it’s me.” 

“Oh, I should have known that’s why your name was on the screen. I’ll never get used to these phones.” 

“You’ll get the hang of it eventually” reassured Y/N. “By any chance is Sherlock home? He’s not answering his phone.”

_____

A man wrapped in clothes covering him head to toe lunged at Sherlock. A sword stabbed forward and Sherlock lept to the side. Then Sherlock jumps up grabbing the man by his wrists. After some struggle, the man pushes Sherlock onto the kitchen table, his sword aimed at Sherlock’s throat. The man yelled out to bring the sword down. Sherlock pushes his attacker’s wrist upwards to put distance between him and the blade. A sweat broke out on his forehead, dripping down his chiseled cheekbones. The attacker’s grip began to weaken as his wrist bent slightly upwards. Suddenly, Sherlock forces himself off the table. The attacker backs away into the living, swiping at Sherlock. He ducks and then brings a powerful uppercut into his attacker’s chin. The man falls to the ground with a grunt, unconscious. After catching his breath Sherlock stands tall, dusting off the mess of the fight. He ran his hand through his head of dark curls wondering how he was going to take care of the body. 

______

A deep sigh escaped Mrs.Hudson’s mouth. “He is, Lizzy. But he’s…” There was a pause as she tried to find the right words. “I believe he’s occupied with… with a special someone. I can hear them from downstairs. It sounds like they’re having quite a good time, by all the grunting, crashing, thumping I hear..” 

Y/N’s face turned bright red. “Oh! Thanks for telling me. I thought he... Just… never mind. See you later, Auntie M.”

“Alright dear, goodbye.” Y/N immediately pressed the red button and burst into laughter. She couldn’t wait to tell John about what Mrs.Hudson had told her. 

There was an extremely long line when Y/N entered the store, at the front stood John. His finger angrily motioned towards the machine a vein popped out of his head.  He refused to give up and kept trying to figure out the chip-in-pin machine. An automated voice responds, “The card you are using is not authorized. Please try again.” A collective groan escapes the mouths of those in the line.

“Oh shut up. Go wait in another queue if you so please.”  Scoffed John. He was not happy, Y/N could tell that. But seeing her best friend get so frustrated over a chip-in-PIN machine was just too funny, so she laughed. Recognizing that laugh, John looked up and a sigh of relief washed over them. So much so that he announced it to everyone in the queue behind him. “Look everyone, help has arrived.” A few people in the queue behind him awkwardly clapped their hands, unsure of what to do. 

Y/N chuckled and pulled out her wallet and inserted the card. Typing in her pin the machine chimed, accepting the card and payment. John stood there shocked, as Y/N started gathering the bags of groceries. “You didn’t need to do that Y/N.” 

“Just helping out a friend in need.” She replied as John began taking a few of the bags from Y/N’s arms. 

“No, no, you stopped me from practically murdering that machine. Let me pay you back.” 

Y/N chuckled, “Alright then John. You can cover for me tonight. Jim’s asked me to have dinner at his place.” 

John wiggled his eyebrows at his friend. “Oh? Last I heard you two made it official. Special night planned?”

Y/N smiled to herself and a pink tint flushed over her face. “I don’t know. He leaves for Germany on a business trip for a few weeks, so…”

“I’ve got you covered, Y/N,” John confirms. “Though it’s not really what I meant by paying you back, that works too.” Once the two of them had gathered the groceries. 

On the way home, Y/N remembered to tell John what Mrs.Hudson had told her when she called asking for Sherlock. Immediately John’s ears turned bright pink as his mind fought to process this new information. “You’re telling me Sherlock might’ve had someone over? That doesn’t sound like him...I was pretty sure that he was…”

“Married to his workl?!” Proposed Y/N, John nodded his head in agreement. “Same here, but you never know. I mean he’s never told us specifically that he was… you know. But imagine, if what Auntie M said was true. Sherlock’s never gonna hear the end of it,” chuckled Y/N. John couldn’t help but chuckle as well. Sherlock, the man whom everyone thought was married to his work, might have been possibly overheard by his landlady satisfying certain needs.

It didn't take the two of them long to return home. The whole way home they’d come up with ways to tease Sherlock. Laughing and joking as the cold November wind blew around them. Lifting the fallen leaves on the road sidewalk causing them to dance around like a spinning ballerina. When they entered 221 Mrs.Hudson had told the two of them to settle down. It had only just gotten quiet upstairs. This sparked another wave of laughter between John and Y/N as they remembered all the teasing and jokes that awaited them. Mrs.Hudson brushed them off and sent them up the stairs mumbling something about how laughter was good for the soul. 

Sitting at the dining table, Sherlock was typing away on John’s computer. Not even looking up at his two friends as they entered the kitchen with the groceries. Y/N and John shared looks as they looked around the apartment for clues to aid in their suspicion. Except the place was just as they left it and Sherlock on his throne not having moved an inch.

“You took your time,” Sherlock noted not looking up from the computer. 

 “I had a row with a chip-and-PIN machine. I tried calling you for help, but you didn’t answer.” Placing the groceries on the counter John looked at Sherlock in disbelief. “Is that my computer?”

“Of course,” stated Sherlock. 

John clenched his jaw. “What?!” 

Y/N smirked as she placed the groceries in the fridge.

“Mine was in my bedroom, John,” Sherlock enunciated. “You…you had a row with a chip-and-PIN machine?”

“Y/N had to come and save me.” John paused and opened his mouth thinking of how he could censor his words. “It’s password-protected, Sherlock!” John spat.

“In a manner of speaking. Took me less than a minute to guess yours. Fort Knox. You should change your password,” suggested Sherlock. John’s mouth hung open and he would have stayed that way if it wasn’t for Y/N chucking an apple at him. John caught it and then turned his focus on unpacking the groceries.

Leaning over the dining table, Y/N began implying, “So, Sherlock.” He glanced up from the computer to look at her. A few hairs fell into her face. Her smile was all too suggestive of something. “Sounds like you had quite a good time earlier. If you know what I mean.” John practically choked on the air he was breathing. 

He cocked a brow up at her and glanced around the room. “If you say so,” He replied returning to John’s computer. 

John looks back at Sherlock and sighs. He marches over to Sherlock snatching his computer from Sherlock’s hands. John then marches across the room placing the computer as far away from Sherlock as he could. Then sliding down he sits in his armchair. John’s eye catches a pile of bills. He frowns. 

“Need to get a job,” he mutters. 

“Oh, dull,” Sherlock replies. 

Y/N clears her throat catching the attention of Sherlock and John. “Actually, I still haven’t been paid since Abbey Grange.” 

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and John looked up to the ceiling with frustration. 

“I need to go to the bank.” Stated Sherlock, completely ignoring the comment Y/N had just made. 

“Okay…?” Y/N responded. Sherlock stood up and threw on his coat. He turned to Y/N and John. His blue eyes gave them a look. “Oh! We’re coming.” 

Sherlock headed down the stairs. Y/N scurried out after him. John groans standing up from the comfort of his chair. He slowly made his way out of the flat and after Sherlock and Y/N. 

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Tower 42, Old Broad Street. That’s what it said in a big bold steel letter. The glass skyscraper lived up to its namesake. It towered over the three of them. A giant in a city of tiny figurines. The numerous windows shimmered in the late morning sun. Each surface is expertly cleaned extracting the sense of wealth. Y/N shudders just thinking about the amount of wealth this bank owned. Before the three of them stood glass revolving doors. People spun in and out of them. Sherlock stepped forward leading John and Y/N inside the luxurious building. 

They entered an impressive foyer. Chatter filled the background as people took calls and others withdrew money from their accounts. As Y/N glanced around, she saw the newest and best computer and technology. This bank far exceeded the expectations of her own. To the side there hung a large sign saying Shad Sanderson Bank. Y/N glanced toward her employer. His icy eyes astutely observed his surroundings. The images of the glass barriers, clocks, and the reception desk could be seen in them. Then Sherlock came to a stop. They had arrived at a reception desk. 

One of the many receptionists behind the desk peered up at the three of them. Her eyes judgingly glanced over their appearance. It was obvious they did not belong in a bank of this caliber. 

“Sherlock Holmes,” addressed Sherlock. The woman’s eye’s widened and she immediately led them through a heavy set of doors labeled employees only. She led down winding hallways, and the three of them passed numerous offices. Some of which were larger than the entire square footage of their apartments. Eventually, they came to an office. To the side of the door, there stood a brass name tag: Sebastian Wilkes. The receptionist opened the door and ushered them inside. 

A man in a well-tailored suit stood up from the desk. He flashes a grin at the three of them. His brown eyes land on Y/N and linger on her figure. Sherlock’s jaw clenches and he clears his throat bringing the man’s attention to him. 

“Sherlock Holmes,” Sebastian states. 

“Sebastian,” Sherlock grimaced. 

Sebastian sticks his hand out for Sherlock to shake, which he reluctantly takes. 

“Howdy, buddy. How long has it been? Eight years since I clapped eyes on you?” Sebastian guessed with an overly excited smile plastered on his face.

An expression of disdain flashed on Sherlock’s face, one which he barely tried to hide. A similar look appeared on Y/N’s face. 

Sherlock pointed towards John, “This is my friend, John Watson.” 

Sebastian widened his eyes in surprise. “And who’s this lovely lady?” Sebastian asked. Sherlock’s eyes narrowed at him. 

Y/N winced at the comment. 

“This is my assistant and friend,” Sherlock glowered at Sebastian, “Y/N L/N.”

“Right.” Sebastian scoffed. He gave Sherlock a quick look as if to say Didn’t think you had any friends! Grinning unpleasantly the man sat back in his chair, motioning for the others to take a seat. Both John and Y/N’s lips purse with instant dislike. “Well, grab a seat. D’you need anything? Coffee, water?”

The three reply with a no.

“So, you’re doing well. You’ve been abroad a lot?” Sherlock commented.

“Well, some.” Sebastian smiled at Y/N.

“Flying all the way around the world twice in a month?” smirked Sherlock. 

“Right. You’re doing that thing.” Sebastian noticed. Looking towards Y/N, he continued, “ We were at uni together. This guy here had a trick he used to do.”

“It’s not a trick,” Sherlock muttered barely enough for Y/N to hear. 

“He could look at you and tell you your whole life story!” Sebastian exclaimed. 

“Yes, I’ve seen him do it,” Y/N noted. 

“Put the wind-up everybody. We hated him.” Y/N noticed how Sherlock turned his head away and looked down at his feet. She of all people could recognize his face momentarily filling with pain. The presenting pleasant expression dropped from Y/N's face. Her jaw was tightly clenched as her gaze turned back to Sebastian. “You’d come down to breakfast in the Formal Hall and this freak would know you’d been shagging the previous night.

“I simply observed,” Sherlock stated remnants of pain still present in his eyes. 

“Go on, enlighten me,” scoffs Sebastian,” Two trips a month, flying around the world – you’re quite right. How could you tell?”

Sherlock opens his mouth to reply but Sebastian continues speaking over him to Y/N. “You’re gonna tell me there was, um, a stain on my tie from some special kind of ketchup you can only buy in Manhattan? ” He smugly says. 

John squirms in his chair, ticked off by the man. 

“No, I …” Sherlock tries to clarify. 

“Maybe it was the mud on my shoes!” Interrupted Sherlock. 

“I was just chatting with your secretary outside. She told me.” Sherlock stated. 

Both John and Sebastian frown at him. John was confused by the simply ordinary explanation of his deductions. Then Sebastian breaks into a humorless laugh and Sherlock smiles back at him. His face showed no hint of humor. Suddenly Sebastian claps his hands together, turning back to Y/N

“How’d you end up working for him?” He asked as if it was impossible. 

Y/N smiled a knowing smile. One that hid the shared hatred she, John, and Sherlock felt for Sebastian. “I work for Sherlock because I admire his talent and the fact that he’s a good person.”  

Both Sherlock and John’s eyes widened at her explanation. The pain from Sherlock’s eyes dissolved and was replaced with something else–something more tender. John smirked proudly at his friend. 

Sebastian scoffed in disbelief. “Wouldn’t a pretty girl like you want to work for someone…”

She cut him off. “What? Normal? Are you normal?” 

He nods as he fell into the trap of her faked innocence. 

“Oh,” she gasped, her expression immediately losing all its pleasantness. “So it normal for you to stare at women as if they are objects to be ogled at?” Sebastain’s face drops as she shifts in his seat. Uncomfortable under the woman’s powerful gaze. “Because I’ve noticed you haven’t taken your eyes off of me since I walked into this room despite having invited Sherlock here for help. So why don’t we discuss that? After all, it's what we are here for. If not, we will kindly take our leave.” 

Sherlock glanced toward Y/N, her tall and confident figure etched in his memory. He made no effort to hide the large smile on his face. John, on the other hand, had to use his hand to stifle a laugh. A few snickers escaped his mouth. Y/N sat still, glowing from the victory of her battle. Their reactions only added to the embarrassment that Sebastian felt.

Sebastian cleared his throat and flashed an awkward smile. Catching his breath, Sebastian straightened his tie and then leaned forward. His tone became more serious. He turned to Sherlock and got to the point, “I’m glad you could make it over. We’ve had a break-in.”

“What did they steal?” Interrogated John. 

Turning towards John, Sebastian explained, “Nothing. Just left a little message.” 

Now, this intrigued the consulting detective and his crime-solving friends. They rose from their seats and followed Sebastian as he showed them to the office. Sherlock stood close to Y/N as if he was repelling Sebastian away from her; Not that he needed to after her outbreak in his office. 

 In order to get into the room, Sebastian had to use a security card, something that Sherlock took note of. Inside, the walls were plain white. On one of the walls behind the large wooden desk was a huge framed painted portrait of the once bank’s chairman. The painting wasn’t what captivated the attention of the three friends. It was the bright yellow, spray-painted, graffiti tag on the wall left of the painting. The tag appeared to resemble the number 8, but the top of the number was left open. Above it was a horizontal straight line across the painting. Sherlock stepped forward to get a better look at the wall, Y/N standing closely behind him. John stood on the other side of the room next to Sebastian. 

“The room’s been left here like a sort of memorial,” Sebastian explained. “Someone broke in late last night.”

Y/N peered up at the graffiti symbols. A sense of familiarity washed over her. “It looks like numbers,” she muttered quietly to herself. She noted that the line covering the painting’s eyes reminded her the of Chinese word for one. Pulling out her phone, she snapped a picture of the graffiti. 

After they were done observing the wall, Sebastian had taken them back to his office to view the security footage. The three of them, John, Sherlock, and Y/N,  crowded around Sebastian’s computer. Y/N had retrieved a leather-bound journal and was writing down notes with her blue gel pen. The only pen, Sherlock noticed, she was willing to write with. Sebastian began to explain the videos. “They’re 60 seconds apart. Someone came up here in the middle of the night, splashed around some paint, and then left. All within a minute.” 

Sherlock squinted his eyes at the screen. “How many ways into that office?”

“Well, that’s where this gets really interesting.” Sebastian then showed the three of them the security camera in the reception center. “Every door that opens in the bank is logged right here. Every door.” 

Sherlock took his turn at the computer and noticed that “The door didn’t open last night.”

Sebastian stood up, pulling something out of his chest pocket. “There’s a hole in our security. Find it and we’ll pay you–five figures,” Sebastian reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a slip of paper.  He held a check out. Sherlock glared at the check. “This is an advance. Tell us how he got in and there’s a bigger one on its way.” John’s eyes widened and graciously took the check from Sebastian’s hand. 

Sherlock had asked to see the office once more, alone. That meant John and Y/N stood outside, waiting for what seemed like hours for their dark-haired friend to emerge from the room. Shortly, afterward, Sherlock is dancing around the trading floor. John and Y/N uncomfortably stand as their friend ducks down behind a desk. Slowly, Sherlock’s head of dark curls rises above the desk. His eyes stared in concentration at the glass door to Sir William’s office. Then he scurries across the floor, to the bemusement of John and Y/N. They chuckle at their friend’s ridiculous methods, knowing that it works. Sherlock continues to scamper around the office. Scurrying from behind the desk and peering at the office entrance. He reaches a doorway and enters an office. He makes his way behind the desk and, again, looks up at the office entryway. His eyes narrow as he gets a clear view of the spray paint covering the eyes of the portrait. Afterward, he makes his way around the office one more time before ending back up at the office. He looks around the room, as John and Y/N observe him. Then Sherlock heads to a door and calls Y/N’s name. Beckoning her to him. He slides the sign out of the holder and hands it to her. She glances down at the name on the slip: Eddie Van Coon. Once she places it securely in her pocket, the two of them head off. John followed them. 

Sherlock led them toward the escalators. The two ran after him. John was about to ask Sherlock a question, but Sherlock immediately answered. “Got everything I need to know. That graffiti was a message for someone at the bank working on the trading floors. We find the recipient and ....” 

John finished his sentence, “then they'll lead us to the person who sent it.” 

They stepped on the escalators. The buzz of the escalators hummed loudly in their ears. 

 “Two trips around the world this month. You didn’t ask his secretary; you said that just to irritate him,” noted John. 

Sherlock smirks but doesn’t reply to John.

“How did you know?” John pondered. 

“Did you see his watch?” Sherlock asked. 

“His watch?” repeated Y/N. 

“The time was right but the date was wrong,” Sherlock explained. “Said two days ago. Crossed the dateline twice but he didn’t alter it.”

“Within a month? How’d you get that part?” John mused. 

“New Breitling,” Sherlock proudly emitted. Y/N cocked her brow up in confusion. “Only came out this February. Obvious really.” 

John smiled proudly at his friend. 

“Sherlock?” Y/N wondered. “There’s probably about three hundred people up there. Who was the message meant for?”

“Pillars,” stated Sherlock. 

“What?” John and Y/N chimed in unison. 

Sherlock smiled, “Pillars and the screens. Very few places you can see that graffiti from. That narrows the field considerably. And of course, the message was left at eleven thirty-four last night. That tells us a lot.”

“Does it?” John asked. 

Sherlock stepped off the escalator and continued talking as the three of them went through the revolving doors and onto the street. “Traders come to work at all hours. Some trade with Hong Kong in the middle of the night. That message was intended for someone who came in at midnight. Y/N” He interjects, “what was the name on the card I gave you?”

She quickly pulls the slip out. “Umm…Edde Van Coon.”

“Not many Van Coons in the phonebook.” Sherlock cleverly says. 

His blue eyes scan the road landing on a taxi. Immediately he calls out, “Taxi!”

A buzz comes from Y/N’s pocket and she pulls out her phone. Jim. She glances over the message as John and Sherlock enter the cab. 

___

Can’t wait for tonight. I’ll pick you up around 5.30.”

-Jim

____

Y/N’s drifted up and caught sight of the time. Two hours until her and Jim’s date. She cleared her throat catching Sherlock’s attention. 

“You two go on without me. I’ve got to go.” 

Sherlock tilts his head. “Pardon?”

“Ya, I’ve got um…” Y/N looks towards John for help. “A date.” 

John nods his head, “Let’s go, Sherlock. We’ll see you later, Y/N.” He grasps Sherlock's sleeve to pull him into the car. Sherlock yanks his arm away from John and steps out onto the curb facing Y/N. 

“You can’t.” He states. “I need my assistant.”

Y/N sighs. “Sherlock, you’ll be just fine. Plus, you have John.” 

Sherlock doesn’t budge. “Y/N as your employer, I expect certain things of you. One of which is altering me before the time that you will be absent from work. That way John and I can plan accordingly.”

“But I told John this morning,” she pleads. 

“Exactly, you told him and not me, your employer. Tell your date that you can not make it.”

John scoffs in disbelief. “Sherlock!” John glared at Sherlock. The determination latched in his blue eyes, defeated John. 

“Sherlock, my boyfriend is leaving the country for work and will be gone for the next few weeks. This will be the last chance I get to see him. It’s not fair.”

Sherlock leaned into Y/N. “It’s not fair to us. We are in the middle of solving a case, and an important one at that. I need you here by my side.” Y/N crossed her arms.  “Of course you can leave,” Sherlock stated. “I have no control over your actions, but that would put your attachment to your job in question.” 

Pinching her nose, she took a moment to think. She did need the job and she was starting to like John and Sherlock. They were growing on her. A pregnant pause filled the air. Y/N sighed sadly, her eyes lowering.  “You’re right. Just let me call Jim and tell him I can’t make it tonight.”  

Sherlock’s shoulder release as he nods. Then he climbed back into the cab. Y/N tried calling Jim, but it went to voicemail, so she texted him instead. Explaining that something came up at work and that she couldn’t make it. A pang of guilt swished in her stomach. Soon after, she got in the back of the cab, and they were off. 

John looked over Sherlock at Y/N and offered her a comforting smile. His eyes telling her that he was sorry about not being able to help her. Y/N understood and then turned away to peer down at her hands. She began to fiddle with the rings on her fingers. Her back slightly hunched over. 

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The taxi lets them outside a block of flats. Sherlock pays the driver and then heads out marching directly toward a door buzzer. He glanced at the names and found one that was labelled ‘Van Coon’. He pressed the buzzer for a few seconds and then released it. There was no response. Y/N stuffed her hands in her pockets and began looking around. Sherlock pressed the button again. No response. 

“So, what do we do now? Sit here and wait for him to come back?” John pondered. 

Again, Sherlock’s eyes glance over the name label and then flashes a triumphant smile. 

“Just moved in.” Sherlock smirked. 

“What?” asks Y/N. 

“The floor above. New label.” He clarifies. 

Then Sherlock pressed the door buzzer above Van Coon’s. 

“Could have replaced it,” John added. 

Sherlock turned to look at John, “No-one ever does that.”

Suddenly a scratching noise comes from the speaker in front of them. A woman’s voice breaks through. “Hello?”

Sherlock turns to the camera and smiles. The smile reminded Y/N of the southern hospitality she experiences in the United States; The cheery neighbors popping by with a plate full of cookies and asking if you had Jesus or God in your life. 

“Hi!” chirped Sherlock. His voice most definitely three octaves higher. “Um, I live in the flat below you. I-I don’t think we’ve met.” He grins into the camera. Y/N does her best to stifle a snicker. 

“No, well, uh. I’ve just moved in,” the woman’s voice explained.

 Sherlock briefly turns around to present his I-told-you-so face towards John and Y/N. “Actually,” Sherlocks states, “I’ve just locked my keys in my flat.” He fakes embarrassment as he says it. 

“...Do you want me to buzz you in?” The woman hesitantly asks. 

“Yeah…and can I use your balcony?” He requested. 

“What?” The woman responds. John and Y/N flash each other confused looks. 

Not long after Y/N, Sherlock, and John are buzzed into the apartment building. As they step into the elevator to the correct floor, Sherlock address his friends. “John, Y/N. You two wait outside Van Coon’s flat. I’ll let you in.”

John nods, but Y/N declines. Sherlock cocks his brow up. “You wanted me to stay with you right. If I remember correctly right by your side. I’m coming with you.” She dictated. 

Sherlock’s eyes narrow and his jaw clenches. “Fine.” She smiles triumphantly. “John, wait for us and we’ll let you in.” He leans in close to Y/N’s, whispering into her ear. “I hope you’re good with heights.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

“You want me to what?!” Y/N exclaimed. 

Sherlock looks back at her as they stand on Ms Wintle’s balcony. “I want you to climb down.” 

He peers over the edge of the balcony. His eyes fall on the ground several floors below them. Quite a fall, he notes. Y/N visibly gulps, and Sherlock smirks. “You can always join John.” 

“No !...no,” she states more calmly. “I’m staying right by your side.” Sherlock’s cheeks lightly flushed at the promise. 

Without another word, Sherlock swings his leg over the balcony and with the expertise of a gymnast fall down onto the balcony below. Y/N yelps and runs to the edge. Sherlock flashes a cocky smile. 

“Worried?” 

She scoffs. “No…never.” Y/N takes in a deep breath ignoring the shakiness of her hands. Her knuckles turned white from gripping the edge of Ms. Wintle’s balcony. Carefully she swings a leg over and feels her arms give out from under her. She cries out as her grip on the balcony tightens. Her legs flail as they search for ground. 

“Need help?” Sherlock asks. 

She turned her head to look down at the balcony below her. All she had to do was let go and she would come in contact with Van Coon’s balcony. “...Never.” She grunted. She let go and preemptively closed her eyes. Her feet it the concrete surface and Y/N opened her eyes, becoming aware of the sensation of Sherlock’s arms wrapped around her lower back and waist. They were close–to close. Their noses were barely touching. Y/N’s eyes widened as she realized an aching feeling her hand. She was gripping onto Sherlock coat tightly. She released her hands and stepped back. She looked down and dusted herself off. 

“Better let John in.” She muttered. Sherlock’s eyes followed her as she slides the door from the balcony open and entered the apartment. 

The apartment was very elegantly decorated. It was spotless. Almost as if it were a showing apartment, decorated by real estate and interior designers to sell the space. This is clearly the apartment of a wealthy man. Y/N noted the white leather furniture free of any wrinkled and shiny black tables with minimal clutter. Sherlock parades through the room looking at everything as he goes. He stops to glance at a pile of books on a table and the coffee mug with the handle facing left. Then Sherlock walks through the kitchen with Y/N following behind trying to calm down her fluttering heart. He opened the fridge to reveal that it’s full of bottles of champagne. “Must be a romantic,” Y/N mumbled. Sherlock rolls his eyes at the comment. Suddenly, the front door to the flat buzzes.

The muffled sound of John is heard from the other side of the door. “Sherlock?” He pauses. “Y/N?”

They move into the hallway.

“Are you two, okay?” John yells.

“We’re perfectly fine, John!” Y/N calls back. 

Sherlock swings the door to a small bathroom open and glances inside. Shutting the door moves onto the next door. He turns the knob, yet it resists. 

“Yeah, any time you feel like letting me in,” John commented. 

Y/N immediately turned around towards the sound of John’s voice. “Coming!” 

She leaves Sherlock to go let John in. Coming to the door she notices that all the locks have been used. Her hands hover over the locks, and then reach into her pockets to pull out her phone. Why would someone who lives this high up bolt every lock on their door? She snaps a quick photo and opens to the door for John. 

Suddenly a loud crack is heard from behind her. Her and John’s eyes widen as the race towards the sound. They burst into the room. Y/N’s stomach lurches and she has to look away. 

There lay a man in a suit and overcoat lying on the bed. His eyes open. A pistol on the floor and a bullet hole in his right temple.

______________________________

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Tag list: @biggerthancalli13 @themartiansdaughter @starlightaurorab @silversword7000​ @bartokthealbinobat​

Comment below if you would like to be added to the tag list!

______________________________

[sinni-ok-sessi]

Fic writer interview

Tagged by @bitterflames, thank you!

How many works do you have on AO3? 21, a number that surprises me every time by being both more and fewer than I think it should be

What’s your total AO3 word count? 186, 378 (again, feels like this is both way too many words and also not as many as it ought to be)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Moonlight as My Guide (The Untamed) The Naming of Small Things (The Untamed) Continuing Professional Development (The Magnus Archives) Noli me tangere (The Magnus Archives) Spin Me Right Round (The Untamed)

Nothing suprising here, given the ridiculous size of those two fandoms, but I am always charmed by the love CPD gets, given it's mostly me making jokes about a librarianship conference I went to once

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Aaaagh, I wish I did? I'm bad at thinking of things to say! I think I do better at responding in small fandoms where I know/know of most of the commenters and 'thank you for being on this small liferaft with me' feels like an appropriate sentiment

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? I don't really do angst-angst, but The Winding Roads They Led Me Here is probably the most obviously not-a-happy-ending thing I've written?

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending? I am surveying my corpus and learning that wow, I write a not inconsiderable number of things about learning to live when you don't really want to? Shan't be analysing that too closely, tyvm, but I do remain pleased with the way And Green the Ground Below and Breathe In For Luck came out. For sheer straightforward glee at the ending, it's gotta be never knew a part of you / you didn't set in ink

Do you write crossovers? No, I imagine crossovers at great length and then make no moves towards writing anything down (see: the sprawling Nirvana in Fire/Vorkosigan series Entity that gets passed around between me and several friends, which consists entirely of one of us going 'hey have you thought about if X met Y?' and then yelling about that for several hours straight)

Have you ever received hate on a fic? lol, only from the one person who told me 'toxic xiyao' was ruining MaMG, which is very funny to me because that's kind of the point in that fic

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? yeahhhh but I find it very difficult. A long, hard process, in fact. As for 'what kind', uh, mutually obsessive D/s dynamics pretty much covers it, I think

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not to my knowledge

Have you ever had a fic translated? Yeah! Someone on Wattpad was translating MaMG into Spanish, though idk how far they got

Have you ever co-written a fic before? No because I am very secretive about showing people my writing until it's 'presentable' and I think that would kill me

What’s your all-time favorite ship? [Douglas Richardson voice] Sir is fickle and changeable [/Douglas Richardson voice], but I think the ship I have spent longest actively contemplating is proooobably MCS/Jingyan?

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? All of themmmmmmm. (No, I would really like to do more with the Langya Hall prequel fic, but I think it's currently beyond my confidence as a writer so...)

What are your writing strengths? Fraught conversations and minute observations of body language, my beloved

What are your writing weaknesses? Plot? I don't know her. Pacing? A distant acquaintance at best

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? I doubt I ever would, because I'm not confident in the spoken forms of any language I quote-unquote 'know', and I also find the 'multilingual character uses non-English endearments for their beloved' trope to be...a little painful, but I'm not averse to the idea on principle, though I suspect it requires more skill than people generally think to pull it off well

What was the first fandom you wrote for? hhhhh fucking. Sherlock Holmes (ACD stories), I think. Maybe the Psmith books by PG Wodehouse? I think it's for the best that the fic I wrote as a teen is marooned somewhere on LJ

What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to? I'm not going to do it, because it involves way too much compartmentalising not to set off my RPF squick, but god those sad boat men from The Terror are compelling and would bring me nicely back into my wheelhouse of repressed Victorians and also the Navy (I think I never actually finished writing anything for the Hornblower fandom back in the day, but my god it was not for lack of trying)

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written? usually my most recent fic tbh (in this case, Make A Mercy Out of Me, which is, uh, unrepentant Disguiser smut and therefore of interest to like. three people worldwide, but that's fine)

tagging: @tallangrycockatiel, @goingsparebutwithprecision and anyone else who's interested and hasn't already been tagged

[lov4hgirl]

Waittt that made me run back to twt so fast. Not only are ur anons multilingual and funny af, theyre also the second coming of sherlock holmes

ME TOO LITERALLY 😭😭😭 im like whoa??i missed that chapter?? 🧍🏻‍♀️ and its the way i think anon thought I KNEW it but i didn't not until i saw the inbox 😭 ugh the sheer TALENT of these anons <3333 thank you all for gracing my inbox, truly 🫂🫂🫂💗 ok but the sherlock holmes is so 😭😭🤣 ABABSHSHAJAKA they got the keen eyes nd everything mhm

[seeingteacupsindragons]

Oh wise and multilingual friend, what is all this talk of "the story of Professor Moriarty and Detective Holmes is ending" or some such? I have the distinct impression that I'm seeing inadequate translations of a blurb, but I am dying of curiosity! ARE they switching protags? Is it just that they're no longer in their roles as rivals? Is the series ending? Is this just nonsense pulled from thin air? Or is it a secret fifth thing? 😅

So, it's actually from the magazine.

This is on the page facing the table of contents for yesterday’s issue:

And this beauty is at the back near the "In Next Issue!"

As you can imagine, they're kind of announcements for the same thing.

Side note: there's also actually an interview with Miyoshi and Takeuchi in this edition, and next month they're judging a manga contest for the magazine next month. So this edition is just full of love for them.

Anyway, the announcement basically says next month, they get the cover art and a center color page.

The first page says, "To live together now,” and "To the first part's conclusion..."

And the back page says, "To walk the same road together," and "The conclusion of the first part..." and (roughly) "The answer given by William and Sherlock...received by their friends and companions."

Unless there's more in the interview I haven't read yet (which I sort of doubt, as I don't think that's what it's about...it seems more about how they created Sherlock and William), it's basically telling us:

Next month, we finally get to see everyone's reactions to this gay ass nonsense and the first part of the story closes. What that means, not sure yet!

But the series isn't ending. They would say it's the series conclusion if it were, the conclusion of the "first part", and they would have announced that a long time ago. Often times in shonen, they announce when they're in the "final arc."

Also let's appreciate the image they chose for this. Thanks.

[consult-sherlockholmes]

Comment vas-tu cher frère. Vous ne semblez pas avoir beaucoup de cas.

Ça va. Hélas oui. Je n'ai pas, les criminels sont très paresseux maintenant. Cet ennui me rend fou, c'est terrible.

[jay-wasstuff]

My favourite moments from Sherlock & Co (so far)

Sherlock being revealed to have tiktok

Watson replying 'you can wear whatever you want mate' when Sherlock asked if he could wear sunglasses and ear defenders

Sherlock not being knowledgeable in (modern) music and film

When Watson reminds Sherlock to say thank you and please

Sherlock fidgeting with the microphone, making noises (stimming) and then aggressively having a go at the listeners

'I like you as you are, Watson'

The little domestic moments, arguing over who does dishes, who makes dinner, Christmas shopping prices

Sherlock taking 'the knowledge' for fun

Watson and Mariana offering Sherlock hugs

Sherlock and Watson's hot-cold game

"give the heavenly father my best when you see him" - sherlock

Sherlock offering to hold Watson's hand when he begins to have PTSD symptoms

Sherlock created a hugging machine for himself

Multilingual Sherlock

Mariana just accepting her new name of Mrs Hudson because Sherlock refuses to correct himself

Sherlock explaining his deductions to the media and Watson repeatedly shushing ppl interrupting him

'are you a happy boy Sherlock?'

Watson and Sherlock committing crimes together

WATSON SAYING SOMEONE (@chaotic--pan) TOLD HIM TO MAKE A TUMBLR ACCOUNT?? AND THAT HE WAS PLANNING ON IT!!?

Watson and Sherlock flirting whilst illegally apprehending someone

[christianwolfganglindner]

🌈 so this is my main blog now i guess 🌈

hi, i'm lindner, i'm an autistic artist from germany!

i also have some fandom blogs for my not-so german fandoms:

chilling adventures of sabrina/riverdale - @pops-choclit-shoppe //

stranger things - @scoops-ahoe //

h2o just add water - @juicenet-cafe //

reblogging dump blog for every single viagra ad i see - @official-viagrawerbungen //

adding supernatural soon //

adding bbc sherlock soon //

adding twilight soon //

and some others, tho i will be posting a little of those on here as well.

i am a multilingual fucker and i'll try to keep my blog in english for the most part. i want to make my posts accessible for as many ppl as possible even if they dont speak german, but there will be some other languages thrown in sometime, so don't be startled by that.

this blog will mostly contain these fandoms and postings:

- german stuff and memes in general

- fun stuff abt german politicians and culture

- writing, poetry, fanfic, prose etc.

- some pen & paper roleplay stuff (critical role, dimension 20)

- modern talking stuff (mostly just me simping for thomas and being happy to posess the knowledge that dieter bohlen used to be in the german communist party in his younger years)

- die ärzte stuff (for those who don't know: they're one of like 3 german punk bands that's been around for forever, mostly just the 90s and 80s stuff; knowing they're also just a bunch of privileged white men)

- generally lots of older media and pop culture stuff from the 50s to 2000s

- how to sell drugs online (fast) content (just me being in love with dan tbh)

- memes and other pretty pictures i find interesting

- die wilden kerle fandom stuff (a german kids/tween book/movie series about a group of kids fighting neighbourhood gang wars by playing soccer; also there's very gaycoded vampires), mostly simping for gonzo, vanessa and darkside, and memes about jimi blue ochsenknecht

- some political theory, primarily anarchism and climate activism

- tatort content (a german crime show called "crime scene") and tatortreiniger content (a german show about a crime scene cleaner dude called "the crime scene cleaner")

- russian/polish/soviet/gdr kids' cartoons (Ну погоди, Смешарики, Кот Леополд, Простоквашено, етц.)

- queer stuff, specifically a lot of polyamory content

- cw for some gore or nsfw

feel free to send me asks about anything related to these ✌️

---

i am very happy to block frustrating people. it's okay to have differing opinions and i am very glad to exchange them with you respectfully if you do, however please DNI if you're:

a terf, truscum, pro ana/eating disorder blog, right-winger, looking for a hookup, planning to insult me in some way, queerphobic/polyphobic/transphobic, ableist, against reproductive rights, a climate change or coronavirus denier, an antivaxxer/antimasker, or generally just an uncomfortable person lmao. please just leave me alone.

your opinion has its place, but that place is not in my reblogs and not in my DMs.

[digestionsack]

Thought Bubble

*Disclaimer: This is anti-St*ncy. I am in no way bashing St*ncy shippers (I will respect you regardless of what you ship provided you don’t go out of your way to be disrespectful), but proceed at your own risk.*

So I was kind of mulling over this whole St*ncy thing…we know that the life Steve wants—6 kids, Winnebago, sort of “white-picket-fence”—is not the type of life that Nancy feels would suit her. It’s giving Nuclear Family vibes, and Nancy, having seen the impact of trying to live that life in her parents’ misery, knows that this life would not be best for her (btw this is not me bashing Steve for wanting that life. Steve is obviously a much better person than Ted Wheeler and if Steve likes the Nuclear Family thing and it will make him happy then he should go for it).

But I feel like if I’m going to talk about St*ncy’s incompatibility as a whole, I need to talk about how Nancy isn’t the right person for Steve romantically just as Steve isn’t the right person for Nancy romantically. And to examine that, we need to go back to when they were actually dating—in S2. One scene that stands out to me in particular is the scene in Nancy’s car where she and Steve are going over Steve’s college essay. It’s clear that Nancy doesn’t think it’s very good (don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying she’s actively being an asshole about it or trying to be mean), and Steve sees this, so he gets really down on himself and starts acting exasperated (probably to evade and deflect his feelings of negative self-worth).

Now, Steve’s behavior in this scene could be shrugged off just a kid insecure about their essay, which would make sense, but the way he is portrayed as feeling inferior to Nancy when it comes to academic strength is something important to note. I find that to be a really interesting writing choice.

Because…Steve has been shown to have great platonic relationships with people who are academically stronger than him. Hell, his two main relationships are with Dustin and Robin. Dustin, who is a proud, self-proclaimed nerd and Robin, who is multilingual and casually cracks Russian codes. With Dustin and Robin, Steve never feels lesser-than. When Robin affectionately calls him a dingus, Steve rolls his eyes good-naturedly and comes back with a witty retort. When Dustin uses Sherlock Holmes quotes to tease Steve about being oblivious, Steve shrugs it off and the moment is used as comedic relief.

What’s more, Steve is shown to value his own strengths and qualities when he’s with Dustin and Robin. Because he knows that when they tease him about being a “dingus,” they aren’t actually intending to call him stupid (not that Nancy ever intended to insinuate that Steve is stupid, but again I say, it’s all about compatibility). When Steve isn’t focusing on his own insecurities, he finds things about himself that he feels confident in. Steve is the one who cracks the music portion of the Russian code, even when Dustin and Robin casually make fun of him. Steve prides himself on teaching Dustin hair care and how to talk to girls. What I find interesting is really one of the only times Steve verbally praised himself in a genuine manner when he was with Nancy was when they were broken up, and even then he was sort of self-deprecating.

“I may be a shitty boyfriend, but it turns out I’m actually a pretty damn good babysitter.”

He truly does not see himself as smart around Nancy, and although she tries, she can’t understand or really help him feel better about himself.

So no, I don’t think Steve and Nancy will get back together come S5. No hate to St*ncy shippers (you do you, I’m sure you guys are very nice), but I personally don’t want them back together. Steve needs a romantic partner who understands and can relate to him just the way he is, and who makes him feel confident in his own skills and qualities. Nancy needs someone for whom she doesn’t need to put a buffer on her ambition, who will not hold her back when she goes after what she wants. Steve and Nancy are great characters—just not with each other.

And like @there-was-a-hole-here-itsgonenow said in one of my previous thought bubbles about Steve, it would be so impactful for not only El to chose self-love, independence and platonic/familial relationships over romantic ones at the end of the show, but for Steve to also take a step back from romance—especially since he’s been shown to be constantly chasing girls since S1. Like @there-was-a-hole-here-itsgonenow said, having a young man who has been previously known as a “ladies man” of sorts ending up prioritizing platonic relationships over romantic ones would just be so great to see.

[theuniversesvoicebox]

I took my mask off and I fought it begrudgingly but it’s now gone!

I am not High Functioning, I pretend to be! I am autistic! We are a DID system. Trying to learn how to function without a mask!

We are highly intelligent, but we are not able to take care of basic need. Like eating, hygiene, meds etc! But we are working on it! Think of RDJ’s Sherlock.

People compared us to Walt Disney, George Lucas, Bill Gates, Elon Musk, Einstein, Hawking, Newton, Libenitz, Comte, Neil Gaiman, JRR Tolkien, Mozart, Bach & David Bowie. Just to name drop a few! (To our main self)!

It took longer than a week to finally come back to ourselves but we feel much better.

My conclusion: we are a 10th dimensional being (all realities meet here and overlap and somehow we can communicate with each other directly, some can take and relinquish control)!

We are however the same person, we switch into modes: Musician, Artist, Performer/Comedian/MC, Boss Bitch, and some of these overlap and some don’t!

The main personality is Boss Bitch, Artist, and writer. But last night we played keyboard and it was 2am when we started and by the time we looked at the clock again it was 5am, but no fucking way did that much time pass!

So obviously musician is on its own mode, separated from the “main” that took control when we needed to escape!

Since we understand all languages spoken, we think receptive multilingualism comes from all the alt modes and we haven’t figured out how to activate speech without training ourselves the specific sentence we want to say fluently!

The weird quirk is we can invent new ones easily! Both written and spoken, but learning how to speak has been conflicting with an aspect of our personality which we concurred in English! We don’t care if we fuq it up in English, we just let the word vomit falls! But when it comes to other languages we halt ourself completely and outright! Insecure about tripping and causing international incidents from saying the wrong catastrophic thing!

We masked to be normal on high alert at all times so that we could join the Army in 2005! We survived for 7 years 11 months and 23 days before we said fuck it and gave up.

We did our best struggling our way to find ourselves again while obtaining our BFA degree in Animation and Visual Effects! We healed a lot of our emotional childhood trauma during our last year (2021)!

And as we struggled to find ourself this year, we put things in the box to be complete at a later date when we were ready for it (this is what we do all the time actually) but now we have ripped off the mask!

We still don’t have a clear definition of ourself but we have a plan on how to make ourselves happy and I’m so excited to finally be free!!

We are on the cusp of losing house and home, starvation and we are happy! Things are about to turn around for the better! We just feel it in our bones 🦴!!