#watson is just that kind of guy

[raveboy34]

Stalking John Watsons twitter and saw this and wanted to share for the people who have not seen this

HE DID THE THING!!

One of my favorite things about the original ACD Sherlock Holmes books is how much attention to detail Watson puts into everything, but ESPECIALLY with Holmes, literally on the first few days of living with Holmes, Watson was so intrigued by his flatmate to the point he wrote down everything he learned from about him. Until of course throwing it into a fire and disregarding it because he felt it was useless and still did not understand him. But still, these smalls things are usually glossed over by other medias, and although it was not mentioned in the podcast, it makes sense for him to say something about it on twitter.

The fact they wrote almost word for word what he writes in the book. I can die happy now.

This is how its written in the Original Work 👇

Cannot believe some of you are NOW realizing Watson is the cutest and most awkward man to ever walk the face of the earth ! Love him and his curiosity

[sweetshire]

So, @silv-paru sent Sherlock Holmes for the character opinion bingo. thanks a bunch for this (and for your patience. my god, i’m answering this a week late. typical me behaviour). you’re a darling :D

Did you know, i used to tell these stories to my friends? they delighted in them AND i got a chance to sort of ramble on and on abt him and watson. it was a win-win, really. ah, those were the days! now i haven’t reblogged much of him this month at all. i miss him. I MISS HIM.

Onto the bingo: well. he’s The quintessence of gender™ to me. and i relate to him so so much. fav character of all time fr. i want to carry him in my pocket at all times & study him. like. do i want to BE him OR am i IN LOVE with him, ykwim? pssh who knows? certainly not me. uh-huh ‘a beast unleashed’ -does this refer to me or him? you choose. oh re: canon, i’m ignoring the part where holmes dies (or y’know, is dead for 3 years). that’s too angsty.

[remythologise]

I think every ship should be able to work in some way with taylor swift's 'the way I loved you' I think taylor swift's 'the way I loved you' is like the ultimate amv test. if you can't visualise one half of your otp vacantly staring at their date imagining someone else they had a far more volatile, passionate relationship with, well.

[skyriderwednesday]

Ok, so Watson earlobes attached, Holmes earlobes detached...

...and I've drawn them both with fairly hooded eyes (yay, character projection)

And Holmes gets the lil crease between his eyebrows and crow's feet, while Watson just has his eyebags.

Neat.

[naeverse]

Lapdog

🐩staring: NerdMiguel x QueenBee Reader

💗 preview: “Damn, sounds like you want a lapdog.” Peter chuckled, returning to your conversation as MJ followed suit in his laughter, which only made your smile broaden.

“It does…doesn't it?

🌸Summary: You, Queen Bee, have been desiring a little assistant for a while—someone who can fetch you things, do your work, assist you in any way possible, and just make life much easier. However, after witnessing a surprising occurrence with one of the lamest students on campus, Miguel O'Hara, you believe you've found just that, and maybe something even better...

💗rating. 18+ explicit I SMUT I

🐩tw/cw. Blackmail, Caught in the act, College AU,  Demeaning, Desperation, Dirty talk, Dominance, Handjob, Masturbation, Orgasm Denial, Overstimulation, Ownership, Public Masturbation, Power Differences, Praising, Public, Sex toys, Vibrator, etc…

🌸Word count: 9k

(*All rights reserved. DO NOT repost/translate/copy any of my work.*)

Small, quiet whimpers escaped the lips of the burly man to your left. His head lowered in an attempt to hide as he diligently tackled your college work. His large, left hand trembled while he solved long math equations, expressions, logarithms, and whatever else the packet held. You shifted your gaze from the four-eyed male to two others seated at your booth.

Peter B. Parker, the captain of the football team and the golden boy of the school, sat across from you, alongside his girlfriend, Mary Jane Watson, or MJ, who was the editor of the college newspaper. They cuddled up against each other, with MJ on his chest and his arm wrapped around her.

The two were considered your "friends" at the university, forming the famous clique that instilled fear and envy in the entire student body. However, between the adored football jock and the news girl, you, on the other hand, were a much bigger deal. 

Everyone knew your name, and if they didn't, you were seen as an utter disgrace due to your cluelessness.

You were known as the university's queen bee.

Everyone loved or hated you; you didn't care. Any attention was welcome. You were the leader of the notorious sorority house of baddies, with a rich family that could drop and sue anyone with the drop of a hat. You could control the student body in masses with just a word, and had everyone, even the staff, wrapped around your pretty, manicured finger. 

Whatever you said went, and don't you fucking dare think otherwise; you'd be an idiot to challenge the queen. Having the ability to turn any person into a complete nobody, withering away in debts and charges, kept everyone in their place.

But you wouldn't exactly say Peter and MJ were your friends, just students at college who possessed a certain kind of power that was highly useful to have in your corner.

Peter and his kind, sweet persona solidified bonds with other universities and the dean themselves. He was the face of your campus and was hella popular.

MJ headed the media, and whatever she said or wrote in the newspaper or the college blog was believed by everyone on campus, even if it was false.

Not that anyone would know...

Peter, MJ, and you were at the top of the food chain at your university; no one else mattered and was worth the time.

So why the hell was this lowlife sitting at your booth?

Miguel O'Hara, known as the nerdiest of the nerds on your college campus, sat beside you at your usual booth in Mama's diner, your clique's hangout spot.

To be fair, you didn't classify Miguel as such; more of a loner because he didn't look like a nerd. His body was covered in bulging muscles that contrasted greatly with his quiet persona. He had a towering height that rose above most of the football team, and he got attention from girls.

Or, well...

Girls gave him attention, not like the guy minded them.

He kept to himself, always having his nose stuck in a book. To make him even more of a dork, he worked at the school library. Due to his elusive nature and  how hard he was to categorize, the loner had gained a distasteful reputation; many students on campus hated him as a result. 

Was he a jock due to his bulging muscles, a bad boy due to his mysteriousness and constant desire for solitude, or was he a nerd for always being found reading, and whenever he spoke, only intellectual things came out?

He was a tricky case.

And not one you cared about until today…

You never would have paid the introverted male any attention if it weren't for you, this morning, stumbling into the library in search of someone to do your homework. Instead of finding a lowlife in waiting, you found something much better…

You found Miguel in his office, located at the far back of the library, moaning and jerking off under his desk. To make matters worse, AirPods adorned his ears, blocking out any awareness of your presence. You even leaned over his shoulder to discover that he was clearly watching porn.

He was definitely an amateur...

But a needy little thing he was...

The sight before you was an honest gold mine, something that would be perfect for MJ to post on the school blog as you captured a video of the surprising occurrence.

It was hard to fathom how much his reputation, if he had one, would plummet once the entire school got a look at this. But then, being the cunning queen you were, you had a better idea for that video…

You decided to use it as a means to have an around-the-clock assistant that would come running at your every beck and call, at any given time. It was a great idea, especially with the lowlife not being unpleasant to the eyes. 

So now here he was, being a good little puppy for you and doing your homework, except...

It didn't seem like your associates were too pleased with your puppy’s presence.

You met Peter's gaze, his amber eyes furrowed in confusion as he glanced from you to the muscular loner and back again. "Okay, why the hell is he here?" he finally asked after a while of just staring at the two of you. A smirk spread across your lips at his question. "I believe you have eyes, Peter. He's doing my homework," you simply said with a sly grin, continuing your subtle movements under the table, which only made the geek clench his pencil even more.

Peter and MJ recognized that look on you, that sneaky smile you wore whenever you were up to no good. But this time, they couldn't quite put a finger on what it was and how it involved the four-eyed freak.

MJ looked between you and Miguel as well, her cherry lips pursing. "Why here, though?" she asked, her head still resting against Peter's chest. "Most of the time when we meet at Mama's diner, we gossip, we talk about deep stuff. We can't do that with him here," she acknowledged, motioning to Miguel in the corner, who seemed very focused on solving a long ass math problem.

You couldn't help but look over at him as well, taking in the sight of his heavy breathing and faintly red cheeks, before looking back at your associates, who still wore expressions of confusion and discomfort. You huffed, giving them a fake pout. “Come on, Miguel won't utter a single word to anyone...

Now, would you?”

You asked, turning to look at the large Latino, his amber orbs covered with a pair of black eyeglasses as he remained silent, adamantly trying to avoid eye contact. You scowled, giving him a tight squeeze, followed by a deep stroke making him jolt. His eyes briefly rolled, his mouth stammering, trying to find his words. “No… I won't.” He said so low and deep you had to lean in to hear him.

You could visibly see him struggling, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead as he tried painstakingly to control his breathing. You grinned, watching him return to work on your math packet like a good little puppy. “See? He can be trusted.” You explained with a smile, continuing your tantalizing play on the nerd, which only made the Latino male suck in a breath and grip his pencil tighter.

You swore you thought the wooden tool would snap in two any second now…

“Fine, but what made you want to bring him of all people?” Peter asked next, turning your gaze onto him. “He holds no power at our Uni. He’s useless to us.” He said with a chuckle, running his fingers through his girlfriend's red hair. You chuckled at his belief that the four-eyed male was ‘useless’; 

Currently, he was everything but…

“You know how much I wanted my own little assistant for some time.” You replied with a smirk, tracing Miguel under the table, feeling your fingers begin to become further coated in his essence. “As in someone who can fetch me things, do my work,

Satisfy my every need…”

You abruptly squeezed Miguel once more, a sudden audible groan passing his lips, gaining everyone's attention. Peter and MJ glanced over at Miguel with raised eyebrows before just brushing it off as the geek having one of his weird moments. 

Subtly, you shot the dweeb a glare, making his ears redden and clear his throat. He flicked his pencil around in his thick fingers, beginning to erase a mistake he made due to your harsh grip before you turned back to your associates with a nonchalant smile.

“Damn, sounds like you want a lapdog.” Peter chuckled, returning to your conversation as MJ followed suit in his laughter, which only made your smile broaden.

“It does…doesn't it?”

You whispered, glancing over at Miguel, who was trying not to acknowledge your gaze, seeming to be very interested in the ways of Calculus II. 

“Aww… Peter, you know me so well.” You thought with a small grin, continuing to stroke the trembling male. You could feel the dweeb strain underneath his black jeans, enjoying how greatly he was trying to hide his pleasure. With your thumb, you brushed over his sensitive tip, making him whimper loudly, despite his effort to suppress it by biting his lip.

You shot him another stern look, slightly relieved to hear a groan of annoyance from MJ at the same time. At her outburst, it drew your attention over to her to see she was looking over at the workers in Mama's diner who were diligently working in the kitchen area of the diner. “Gosh, we've been sitting here for 20 minutes, and our order still isn't here.” She whined, crossing her arms over her chest like a pouty child in the grocery store. 

“Come on, baby, it should be out in a little bit,” Peter whispered, trying to comfort her. You couldn’t help rolling your eyes at her dramatics. MJ always did this to get attention, Peter’s attention in particular, who you’ve noticed was staring at you a lot more than usual upon entering Mama’s diner today.

You met MJ’s blue eyes, giving her a tight-lipped smile. “Actually, why don't you two go check it out? See what's the hold-up?” You proposed, glancing over at Miguel to see his defined Adam's apple bob at your words, his nervousness only exciting you further.

Oblivious to your proposal and the fact that you, the queen, said it, Peter and MJ nodded and slid out of the booth. You watched in the corner of your eye as they walked away from your table and towards the front of the diner. 

‘Now the fun can begin…’

You thought, a wicked grin spreading across your glossy lips. With them gone, you wanted nothing more than to have some fun with your new puppy. You turned in your seat to finally make eye contact with the panting male, and you couldn’t help but snicker at the sight.

The dweeb’s coffee-brown curls were plastered to his sweaty forehead, his amber orbs hooded behind his glasses while his grip on his pencil was slowly loosening. Breathy moans escaped his parted lips as his hips thrust softly into your hand, his eyes rolling with each of his movements.

Upon the two leaving the table, it seemed the nerd had completely dropped his facade, showing just how needy he was.

You laughed, glancing down to see the mess he was making in his black jeans. A small wet patch gradually soaked the zipper and crotch of the denim. “I knew you didn't finish in the library.” You teased, continuing to stroke him. He grunted, shifting in the booth to better angle himself into your clenched palm. “I couldn't…You interrupted me.” He replied hoarsely, making you raise an eyebrow. You abruptly gripped his cock at his response, making him whine.

“I interrupted you?”

You scoffed, not believing the balls on this nerd. “You have more mouth than I thought, Miguel O'Hara.” You hissed, releasing him and drawing down his pants, exposing his huge member fully. His hooded eyes instantly snapped open, deep pants passing his lips. “What are you—what are you doing? Someone could see.” He exclaimed through stammers, his amber eyes blown in a mixture of lust and worry as they looked all around in fear of someone being near.

You rolled your eyes at the nerd’s empty concerns. Your clique's favorite booth was positioned in the back of the diner, completely secluded. Of course, you’ll take precautions; you wouldn’t want someone to capture the sight of you having fun with a loser like him, so the idiot was fine.

Not that you cared at the moment...

“I honestly don't know what you're so worried about. You didn't seem concerned about someone seeing you when you were jerking off this morning.” You taunted, earning an angry growl from him, his cock twitching a little at that recollection. “Mierda, I didn't know anyone was there. The library is always empty in the mornings.” He said in a low voice, his tone rough and holding so much spite in it.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his anger, as if he could do anything about it. His massive body was stuck on the inside of your booth, his well-endowed cock and balls out on display.

He was completely vulnerable to you…

Your eyes trailed him, taking him in slowly, and to your surprise, you found yourself licking your lips at the sight.

Even though the dork was a lowly peasant at your school, carrying his stupid little textbooks and allowing the jocks to beat on him when he had the muscles and height to beat their asses ten-fold.

He had an impressive cock…

It was fully erect, sticking straight up into the air with a small patch of dark brown, coarse hair sitting atop his dark shaft, trailing an irresistible line up under his beige sweater. His cock was long, girthy, and definitely above average, with a brown, angry tip dripping with precum, begging to be tasted and played with.

During your moment of ogling, his large, veiny hand hastily covered the oddly magnificent sight, snapping you from your trance. You glared up at him, taking in his flushed cheeks, coffee-brown curls that hung over his framed eyes, and his attempt to cover his enormity between his legs with his hand.

“Move.” You sternly said, your tone showing just how annoyed and furious you were. You crossed your arms over your white-clad chest, awaiting the loser to obey, but surprisingly, he did no such thing. Miguel simply clenched his jaw, averted his gaze from you, not at all listening to the order you’ve just given him.

Your glossy lips pulled into a snarl, not remembering the last time someone would dare be defiant towards you, but it seemed this nerd, loner, whatever the hell he classified as, was something different…

He knew who you were, yet he was disobeying you, talking back, and worst of all…

Not submitting.

You’ve met many infuriating individuals, but he had to take the cake.

Your jaw clenched, trying to keep your composure and remind yourself that you needed him around because you were a hair's breadth from reaching into your bag and grabbing your phone to do the unthinkable. You cleared your throat, sliding so close to him that you could feel the heat of his bare, thick thighs against yours under the short, expensive pink skirt you adorned.

You brushed a strand of his coffee-brown hair behind his ear, noticing how he flinched slightly before leaning in close.

 “Move your hand, or I'll make sure to send that little video of you jerking off to MJ. I think she’ll enjoy posting that onto her little blog for the whole college to see.”

You whispered into his ear, the threat striking the nerd greatly. A wave of satisfaction rushed through your being when he turned to face you, his amber eyes narrowed in rage, but a hint of fear evident in them as well. “You wouldn't,” he said, calling your bluff in a rough, breathless voice which only made you laugh.

“You must really be living under a rock on campus if you think I’m bluffing,” you chuckled darkly as the nerd gulped. “Now…” you began, glancing down at his shielded hand over what you desired. “Unless you want the entire college to know how much of a needy little puppy you are, you will move your damn hand and allow me to do whatever I please.” You sternly said, looking down at his trembling hand and then up at him.

You found it utterly adorable how he tried to keep your hardened gaze, but he would learn that when you want something, you’ll get it no matter what.

He cursed softly, running a frustrated hand through his messy coffee-brown curls. He captured his bottom lip in his teeth and reluctantly moved his hands, placing them on either side of him on the booth’s cushions. You smirked at his obedience. “Good boy,” you praised in a teasing voice, patting his head like the doggy he was; however, he yanked away. You scoffed at his defiance.

‘It seems my puppy needs more training. No worries; he’ll submit if he likes it or not.’

You thought, casting your eyes down to meet his painfully hard and erect cock. Biting your lip, you wrapped a hand around his base, feeling how brick and sticky it was in your palm.

But before granting your puppy the sweet release he desired, he had a lesson to learn…

You harshly gripped his shaft, earning a loud groan to escape his throat. “I'm very pissed at you. Want to know why?” You asked, squeezing his cock even more, making him hiss. He clutched the cushion of the booth in his large hands, clenching his jaw once more. “Why?” He said through gritted teeth.

"Why? You nearly got us caught with those outbursts, idiot," you spat, finding a rhythm and stroking him roughly under the table. His abundant precum allowed you to smoothly run your fist along him. He groaned, his head falling back against the booth.

"Maybe... you should f-fucking stop then," he said through pants, which only made you giggle. "Oh, I'm just finishing what you started in the library, puppy," you said with a fake pout.

"And here I thought you liked getting off in public places."

Miguel moaned softly at your words, his cock twitching in your hand in response. You raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Oh? Don't tell me that's the truth," you teased with a soft chuckle, knowing you'll surely have some fun with that hidden kink of his in the future.

However, no response was heard from him, defending nor agreeing with your proposal; only the occasional low moans and groans escaped his lips. You snarled, pressing your thumb into the crown of his tip, eliciting a rewarding jolt and a Spanish curse to fall from his lips.

"If you won't respond to that, then answer this," you hissed, nose scrunched up in disgust as you continued your stroking. "You act all big and tough when you're alone with me, yet you curl up into a little ball when others are around," you stated with a smirk. "Why is that?"

"Because you don't fucking scare me," he said angrily with a steady voice. You scoffed in amusement, your eyes roaming over his bulging muscles through the sleeves of his beige sweater—the fabric appearing strained. "And others do?" you retorted with a snicker, causing him to growl in annoyance and look away. "It's not like that."

"Oh yeah, then what is it?" you inquired, purposely quickening your pace on his shaft, stroking him faster and pressing your palm into his length, the desire to see him lose control driving you. He whined and whimpered uncontrollably, his large hand landing on your thigh, gripping it tightly through your skirt, urging you to slow down.

You sighed heavily; Miguel was so frustrating. The dweeb's mouth constantly spoke of defiance and disrespect, while his body contradicted him each time—his hips steadily moved in sync with your palm, and his member twitched in your hand. It seemed even he was confused about what he wanted, but being the sweet master you were, you'd assist him in discovering his true desires.

But first, he had to be taught to fix his attitude because he was really pissing you off.

You brushed the pad of your thumb over his tip, intensifying his pleasure with every jerk of your hand. "I don't like your attitude with me," you said angrily, smacking his hand off your thigh and grabbing his chin.

You roughly turned him to look at you, his eyes dazed behind his black glasses, and his lips parted. "I hold the power of your entire reputation in my hands. I can get your big ass kicked out of this damn college just by showing the dean that video of you," you warned, looking at his face in complete rage.

"Do you fucking understand me!?" you exclaimed, your nails piercing into the underside of his chin. Your eyes glared daggers at him as you continued to slide your hand up and down his trembling shaft.

He clenched his jaw, nostrils flaring as his hand landed on your wrist, deep groans continuing to pass his lips at your movement. "Y-yes, fuck," he moaned, biting his lip. "Yes to what?" you demanded, seeking clarity. With your thumb, you caressed in small circles around the crown of his tip, a smirk spreading across your glossy lips when his grip on your wrist tightened. "Yes, I-I... understand," he said, his deep voice sounding rather airy and breathless.

"Good boy," you whispered, tilting your head at him and glancing down to see more pre-cum sprouting from his tip, dripping down his shaft and coating your hand. Miguel growled. "What do you even want from me?" he asked through trembles of pleasure, his cock twitching in your fist. Your smirk broadened, turning your attention from his cock to the four-eyed male, his chin still resting between your manicured fingers.

"You heard that conversation between Peter, MJ, and me, did you not?" you inquired with a raised eyebrow, making him heave a trembling sigh. "Lapdog, right? That's what you want?" 

"Indeed," you chuckled, releasing him. He whimpered, his thighs quivering, as heavy pants passed his lips. He rubbed his chin, pressing his backside into the leather cushions and breathing heavily. You reached over him, grabbing a few napkins from its container to clean your hands, feeling Miguel's eyes on you all the while.

When you met his gaze, you weren't surprised to see the sight of anger and irritation, but what did surprise you was the hint of curiosity found in his intense gaze.

'Was the dork interested in being your puppy?'

"Why?" he finally asked after catching his breath. You laughed, turning to him with a wicked grin. "The better question is... 

Why not?"

You replied with a snicker. Miguel rolled his eyes and sighed once more. "And you want me to be your damn lapdog?" he asked, full of spite and rage, his amber eyes appeared redder than usual, but it didn't faze you. "Yes, or that video goes out to everyone," you said with a grin, your eyes lingering along his body. "And I think everyone would be rather shocked to see what you've been hiding under all that ugly clothing," you chuckled, motioning down at his massive and still very hard cock.

He snarled, looking away from you and out the window beside him. A silence fell upon the two of you as you simply took him in—his defined cheekbones, broad nose, thick neck, and massive body covered in a hideous beige sweater, black jeans, and white Converse.

'Goodness, this is going to be fun. The most fun I've probably had in years.'

You thought, faking a pout and leaning towards him to press your plush lips against his ear. He jumped slightly at your closeness, making you giggle as you ran a hand over his chest, tracing his defined pecs and abs through his sweater.

"Come on, puppy. Don't be so mad; you might even enjoy it."

You teased, and to your anticipation, his cock throbbed in response. He groaned lowly, your chest covered in a white crop top pressing into his arm. "It’s not like I have a damn choice," he retorted, his voice still resonating with fury. 

"Well… get used to it."

You uttered, licking a stripe across his sharp jawline and enjoying how he shuddered at the feeling. You then pulled away, his amber eyes following you like the needy puppy he was.

"Now, every doggy needs a collar," you uttered with a smile, causing him to scowl. "I’m not wearing a damn collar."

"So quick to assume, puppy," you laughed, only seeming to enrage the geek even more. "Stop calling me that," he growled, causing you to sigh, finding it rather annoying how he still believed he held some type of control here. 

He'll learn sooner or later.

"You’ll grow to love it, puppy," you emphasized, turning from his faltering glare to rummage in your $500 Prada bag, fishing out a toy you purchased just for your little doggy. When you acquired it, you turned to him, twirling the dark blue and red crystallized ring in your fingers. Miguel's eyes followed it, his chest heaving in confusion and disdain, but his cock pulsated in desire and curiosity.

He could scowl and glare at you all he wanted, but his body gave him away, every single time.

“What the fuck is that?” He snapped, once he regained his composure, his amber eyes looking from the ring to you through his black eyeglasses. You chuckled, running your fingers along the ring. “After our little run-in at the library this morning, I bought my new puppy something special.” You explained, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. The geek looked perplexed for the first time.

 It was a cute look on him…

“Oh, don’t worry, it’ll be fun. I promise...” You giggled, glancing down at his dark cock, still twitching in desire. You then held your hand out to him, the large ring resting in your palm.

“Now…show me how much of a good doggy you can be and put this on…”

“Ugh, they are saying it's another 20 minutes.” MJ groaned, climbing into the booth right after Peter. You heaved a sigh in irritation; Mama's diner was never this backed up. It was rather annoying to think you all would have to wait just for three measly milkshakes.

“So, what’s the two of you been doing? He looks like he’s about to fucking faint.” Peter joked, glancing over at Miguel, whose bronze face was covered in beads of sweat. His amber eyes trained on the packet of math work once more. You chuckled, shrugging your shoulders. “I don’t know. The math problem must be stressing him out.” You said with a smile, subtly glancing over at your phone that rested beside you on the booth, the vibrator app pulled up on the screen that was already at level 2.

The ring that you had bought for your new puppy was nestled around the base of his cock, right over his balls, stimulating both of his sensitive areas. You gave him the benefit of the doubt to cover himself; you weren’t a total meanie.

You just needed him to know his place, as it seemed he kept forgetting.

So you decided to seat him in front of two of the most popular students at your college with a pulsating vibrator around his cock. 

What better way for him to learn...?

"Okay…" MJ trailed off, brushing off the situation as nothing. "Umm, what even is his name?" She asked, talking about Miguel as if he wasn't even there. At her inquiry, you turned to your puppy, giving him a soft pat on the head. "Tell her your name," you said sweetly, noticing the subtle glare from him. "Miguel," he responded in a gruff voice without looking up from the packet.

"Your full name," you added with a smirk, wishing to further annoy him. The dweeb’s jaw clenched at your persistence. "Miguel O’Hara," he growled, hastily returning to solving question 24 of your math packet. MJ looked between the two of you, taking in the interaction before leaning across the table, her blue eyes set on you.

“Seriously, what are you up to with him?” 

She asked in a hushed tone like no one at the table could hear her as her red eyebrows furrowed in concern. You scoffed, not believing that she would dare to ask you such a thing.

“Why the hell are you questioning anything that I do?” You spat angrily. “The fucking dweeb is just doing my damn homework,” you said, your eyes glaring into hers.

Perhaps, the load of hair upon MJ's head was the cause of her forgetfulness. Regardless of the culprit, the redhead better keep in mind how much you love fixing her mistakes and kicking her back into line if she oversteps.

You've done it to so many others, she'll be no different…

“Hey, hey, settle down,” Peter said, trying to calm the situation between the two of you. The tension in the air was so thick, it could be sliced with a spoon, let alone a knife.

“There's nothing wrong with what Y/N is doing,” Peter said, placing a hand on MJ’s shoulder and pulling her back towards his chest. MJ sighed, giving you an apologetic look. “Yeah, I’m sorry.” You rolled your eyes, dismissing her as you met Peter’s eyes that also looked between Miguel and you. “Although, I must say…” He began, and to your surprise, settled his amber eyes onto Miguel.

You smirked, loving to see how the aroused geek would handle this, your eyes trained on him. Miguel, noticing the lack of conversation, hesitantly looked up to be met with six eyes staring back at him.

“How the hell are you so…massive?” Peter asked with a chuckle. “You don’t do shit except read, play chess, or whatever else you nerds do.” Peter jested, causing everyone, except Miguel, to laugh. Your eyes were trained on Miguel as he glanced over at you and back at Peter before clearing his throat. “Genetics.” He mumbled, returning back to writing out the parametric formula to solve the equations he was on.

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed, the introverted male’s words not seeming to have reached his ears. “What did you say? Speak up, man.” He laughed, causing Miguel to clench his jaw once more. His pencil halted upon the paper as he casted his amber eyes up to the jock. “Genetics. That's all it is.” He repeated in a louder tone.

“So, you are telling me, you do not work out?” MJ asked in surprise and awe, her blue eyes roaming over his body. You were certain she was checking your new puppy out.

You growled, oddly, shooting a glare at her.

You didn’t know what was with her today, but MJ was working your last nerve.

MJ, thankfully, shut up after your look, but your puppy answered anyway. “A little,” he replied, twirling the pencil in his thick fingers nervously. You couldn’t help but gaze at him—his massive musculature snug under his beige sweater that seemed to hug him in all the right places.

His biceps bulging, his hardened pecs defined, and you could even sneak a peek at his abdominal muscles pressing against the warm fabric. You bit your lip, the desire to get him out of that ugly sweater filling your being until you shook off the thought.

The damn dweeb was making you forget your title and your reputation…

But you couldn’t lie. 

The geek was exceeding your expectations…

Not only was he impressive for being at the very bottom of the student hierarchy and having the ability to make you feel all hot and bothered, but despite his cock being heavily stimulated by the vibrating ring, his voice didn't waver or falter.

Your puppy was tougher than you thought…

‘We’ll see about that.’

With a click of your phone, you raised the vibrations from a mere 2 to a 5. Instantly at the change, Miguel jolted in his seat. You watched with a look of pure innocence on your face as Peter’s eyebrows furrowed.

He snickered, eyeing the glasses-wearing male across from him at the table. “Man, you are weird as heck, but I’ll let it slide,” he said with a smile, glancing over at you, his eyes full of admiration. “If the queen here can put up with your presence, which is rare,” Peter snickered, “I’ll be willing to open a spot on the team to see how you do,” he proposed, which shocked you.

It was hard to get on Peter’s football team, yet he was practically giving it to Miguel, the most disliked male at school, on a silver platter.

You couldn’t help but feel a little angry at that, slowly becoming a bit possessive over your new puppy.

But thankfully, Miguel said the words for you. “I-I’m not interested,” he uttered, clearing his throat and clenching the pencil tightly in his large hand. You smirked, watching Peter’s eyebrows rise in shock. He glanced over at MJ, who had become quiet after your glare.

“This dude is really turning down my offer, babe,” he said, nudging MJ, who snapped out of her trance to turn her blue eyes onto Miguel. “That’s unfortunate.”

“Actually…” you said, instantly drawing their eyes on you. “It’s better if he didn’t. I’ll lose my new lapdog, and we wouldn’t want that… Isn’t that right?” You asked, running your manicured fingers through Miguel’s coffee-brown hair. You watched his jaw clench and a subtle blush spread across his lips.

Seems as if he's starting to like the name or you claiming him…

Indeed, Miguel was a naughty one…

Peter’s stunned expression instantly changed at your words. He cleared his throat, giving you a nod. “Of course, but the offer still stands,” he offered once more, looking over at you as he said it.

You gave him a small smile before MJ sat up in her chair with a grin, the color restoring back into her being after you rightfully snuffed it out. “Since the workers are taking so long, let’s play a game. Never Have I Ever, anyone?!” she exclaimed, a smile adorning her cherry lips.

You grinned, liking the idea, before a thought came to your head, causing you to heave a sigh. “Normally drinks are involved. We don’t have any,” you commented, instantly MJ reached into the pocket of Peter’s red and blue varsity jacket, pulling out his metal flask. His eyes widened in shock before he laughed, shaking his head. “Damn, I thought you didn’t know about that.”

“I know everything, baby.” MJ giggled, placing the metal flask in the center of the table. You smirked, glancing over at Miguel, who had his arms crossed upon the table, his head lowered over the math packet. He was panting, and his thighs were trembling next to your own. He wasn’t writing anything as he seemed like he was just sitting there.

But you knew what your needy puppy was up to…

He was enjoying himself, relishing in the sensation from the vibrator ring you had bought him. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

While Peter and MJ discussed the rules of the game, you leaned in close to Miguel, pressing your glossy lips against his ear. “Are you enjoying your little toy, puppy?” you inquired, causing him to suck in a breath. “Ay cono, turn it off,” he panted, whispering to you in desperation. He turned his hooded eyes onto you, and you met his gaze with a sly grin. “Why? You like it,” you whispered back with a small giggle, watching his ears redden and a vein bulge from his forehead as he tried to suppress his anger.

“So no, it’s not coming off anytime soon,” you told him. “Now, you'll play this game with us and finish my work later.”

“I don’t want to fucking play,” he growled, making your forced smile falter. You subtly reached over to your phone, turning the vibrations up from level 5 to 7. Miguel's voice caught in his throat, his hand landing on your thigh once more. You could even faintly hear the buzzing in his jeans that was slowly making the geek lose his composure.

His large palm covered your smooth skin as he gripped it tightly while he quivered. He cursed under his breath, beginning to softly pat your thigh to call a truce. You watched him with a smirk, loving how he was writhing and squirming in his seat, knowing you were the sole cause of it. “I-I’ll play,” he whined, lowering his head to hide, his amber eyes on you over his arm. You smiled, lowering it back to a mere 5.

‘Don’t piss me off,’ you mouthed, turning back to Peter and MJ to find they were, thankfully, still talking. 

You didn’t want to hear what any of them had to say when it came to Miguel and you, especially from MJ.

“The dweeb is going to play too,” you said, hastily gaining everyone’s attention. “Awesome, do you want to go around as ages? Whoever is the youngest goes first?” MJ suggested. “I think the oldest should go first,” you said with a wicked grin, knowing everyone would choose the latter since you, the queen bee, said so.

If your intuition was correct, which it always was, you sensed Miguel was older than the rest of you. His demeanor and rough look showed his maturity, and you couldn’t help but become a little aroused at the assumption.

“Fine. I’m 23,” MJ said, glancing over at Peter next. “25,” he replied, soon looking at you. “24,” you smiled before finally setting your eyes on the trembling male. His amber eyes shifted from all of your eager gazes. He cleared his throat, tanned cheeks a soft red. “26.” His voice, like usual, was deep and rather low, but you heard his answer loud and clear.

You were right...

The muscular geek was not only a disobedient lowlife, but he was older than you. ‘How fun?’ you thought, looking him up and down beside you. It made everything even sweeter.

“Well, you go first,” Peter said, motioning to Miguel with his head, his dark brown hair swaying with his slight movement. The dweeb gulped, merely sitting there for a while. It was for so long that you pondered if he had even played the common game before until he finally spoke.

“Never have I ever fallen asleep during a movie,” he muttered, keeping his gaze on the table.

'Of course, a boring one, like I thought.’ You groaned, nudging his arm. “Come on, that shit blows,” you said with an eye roll. “We want something steamy, hot…” You whispered, reaching over to caress his thigh under the table. He gulped, clenching his jaw and landing his large, calloused hand on yours to cease your movement. “Fine…” he said, turning to look at you in particular.

“Never have I ever walked in on someone without knocking.”

Miguel asked with a sly grin that surprised you greatly, and left you angry as hell. You growled, hearing Peter and MJ begin to discuss their answers. “Gosh, I walked in on one of the guys with their girlfriends in the locker room,” Peter sighed as MJ didn’t have an unfortunate occurrence happen to her, but not like you cared about either of them at the moment.

You glared at Miguel, his taunting smirk and stupid glasses adorning his face, the desire to slap them both off overwhelming your being.

You turned to see Peter already taking a swig of the metal flask, a grimace on his face after the drink. “Shit, I knew I shouldn’t have chosen the strong stuff,” he commented, glancing up at you. “Now, what about the Queen bee? Walked in on one of those baddies at your sorority house?” He inquired with a chuckle. You looked over at Miguel, his eyes narrowing as he watched you take the flask, gulping down a large mouthful of the liquor.

As Peter said, the shit was strong, and it took everything in you not to cough, suppressing the urge by clearing your throat. “No…” You replied, placing the flask back on the table and subtly looking over at Miguel before meeting your two associates' curious gazes. “Then what happened then?” MJ asked, deeply intrigued.

“Well, I walked in on someone jerking off.”

You noticed beside you, Miguel’s entire body became rigid on the booth; his hand squeezed yours under the table in a rather desperate way. He was begging you with the slight touch to cease any further words.

How cute…

You smirked at the feeling, loving how you had the dweeb filled with anxiety and nervousness about whether you'll spill his deep secret or not.

But you're only a bitch when you want to be…

“That’s all you get, though.” You laughed, causing cries of frustration to erupt, although you didn’t miss the sigh of relief that passed Miguel’s lips even though he was the one who called your bluff and dug his own grave.

“First round, and it seems Queen Bee and I are tied on who’s paying for our order.” Peter laughed, causing you to roll your eyes. “If it ever gets here,” MJ added with a groan.

“Even more of a reason to continue playing,” Peter said with a smirk. “But it seems as if it’s my turn, being 25 and all.” He said, sitting back against the cushions of the booth, humming in thought. “Ah, got one.” He commented with a grin.

“Never had I ever used a mirror during romantic intercourse.” He asked, his amber eyes looking around the table.

Of course, being the fun queen bee you were, you took the flask. “I mean, if you haven’t, you are missing out.” You grinned, taking another swig of the strong liquor, feeling the satisfying sting in the back of your throat when you placed the container back on the table. You could feel the heat radiating from Miguel’s body at the mention of you doing something so naughty.

You wouldn’t mind doing something like that with him only when he was ready…

A small blush spread across MJ’s cheeks at the erotic question. “I’ve always wanted to do it.” She said, bringing a smile to Peter's lips. He snaked an arm around her, caressing her arm as he spoke in a sultry and seductive voice. “Oh really? We can always try it after-

“Oh my gosh. Get a fucking room already.” You interrupted with a snicker, eyeing the two lovebirds. “Okay, okay,” MJ said with a giggle, eyes turning to Miguel who hastily dismissed it with a head shake.

Of course, the fucking dweeb doesn’t know how to have fun.

With you, he’ll know nothing else; you’ll make sure of it.

“Well, it’s your turn now,” MJ smiled. Finally, it was your turn, instantly thinking of a proposition that could really reveal some deep secrets about Miguel.

Something he's been hiding…

You sat back in your seat, pondering your answer when your eyes met Miguel. Just the sight of the massive male was making your brain sprout with ideas. Who knew how helpful he could be with just his mere presence?

Why not reward him for the assistance?

Subtly, you sat up, turning the vibrations up to a 7 while starting your round.

“Never have I ever had a sexual encounter in a public place and secretly liked it.”

You proposed, glancing over at Miguel, who was losing it. He gritted his teeth, lowering his head to try to hide his fluttering eyes and heavy pants, but your associates’ words surprised you. “Gosh, both of us,” you heard them say, drawing your attention from your puppy.

“Yeah, we did a vibrator challenge on each other, and we went to a mall,” Peter said with a smile and a head shake. “It wasn’t enjoyable with the many people around at the sudden bursts of pleasure, but overall…it was fun,” MJ added, snuggling into Peter’s chest.

You slowly nodded, retaining the idea for further use and glancing back at Miguel, who was shaking. You felt his hand on your thigh once more and soon his soft pats, as if he was a wrestler trying to tap out of the ring.

But you weren’t a merciful referee; he could endure it a little longer…

You leaned in close to him, pretending to reach down to pick up the pencil that had accidentally rolled off the table due to his squirming. “Lift your head and play the damn game,” you spat harshly into his ear as he frantically shook his head. “Fuck, I-I can’t,” he whined breathlessly. “Mierda, I’m close. I-I can’t,” he repeated, only making you smirk.

“Be a good puppy, hold it, and play the game, or I’ll raise it to the highest level,” you told him sternly, your fingers finding the pencil in the leather cushions. You soon rose, a smile on your lips as you placed the wooden tool onto the table. “Miguel, how about you?” you inquired in a sweet voice, the lovebirds finishing their swigs of the flask. “Done anything fun in public and secretly enjoyed it?” you asked, curious about how he'd answer and respond.

Like a good doggy, he lifted his head as you commanded. His dark, hazy eyes looked between the three of you before simply reaching over and taking a swig of the flask.

“Fucking hell!? The nerd knows fun!” Peter commented with a laugh, while the rest of you looked on in astonishment. Miguel placed the flask down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Explain,” you urged, nudging him with a kick under the table. He jolted, shooting you a subtle glare, causing you to raise an eyebrow, reaching over for your phone when Miguel gave you a gentle squeeze of desperation. “Okay…” he began, exhaling and trying to regain his composure while holding back his release and being heavily stimulated.

“I was getting a-a handjob under the table…i-in a diner similar to this,” he said, making you smile, knowing exactly what he was referring to. “T-The girl was fucking rude and mean, but h-had skilled hands. Very skilled hands.” He gulped, avoiding your eyes while he spoke. “But t-that’s pretty much it. I liked it...Who wouldn't," Miguel said, looking down at his lap and leaving the table speechless.

You didn’t know whether to be flattered, angry at his description of you, or apathetic. A burning desire in your gut to simply drag him to the bathroom of Mama’s diner and see just how good his cock would feel inside of you.

But overall, the geek had surprised you with his answer, this being the only time he had spoken his mind and said his true thoughts since he sat down at this fucking booth.

“Damn, sounds hot,” MJ said, making you turn your attention from your loyal puppy to her. “Wish I had the guts like that rude girl you described. I could never.” She said lowly, bringing a wave of pride over you. Her compliment only fueled your already replete ego.

After the steamy encounter that Miguel explained to the group, it was now MJ’s turn. However, just when she was about to speak, her phone pinged with a message. She glanced down at the glowing screen, her eyebrows instantly furrowing. “Oh my gosh, babe, we have to go. I’m needed at the university.” She quaked, turning her blue eyes upon you. “I’m so sorry to pause the game and leave so early.” She apologized, hastily standing up from the booth alongside her ride, and boyfriend, Peter.

“I can only assume it's for the newspaper, so I’ll let it slide,” you told her as she thanked you, swiftly scurrying past and exiting Mama’s diner. Peter watched with a chuckle, tucking his hands into his red varsity jacket, standing beside you at the table.

“Well, I guess we’ll be seeing you around, Queen Bee,” he smirked, suddenly taking your hand and placing a kiss on your knuckles. You raised an eyebrow, a smile forming upon your glossy lips. Prior to pulling away, he held his soft lips upon your skin for a moment longer and gave your knuckles an affectionate caress with his thumb, meeting your eyes. “Call me anytime.” He whispered, giving you his signature charming smile and wink that made every person on campus faint and die on the spot before leaving behind his girlfriend.

You couldn’t lie; you were a little shocked at Peter’s forwardness.

You’ve noticed his interest in the great Queen Bee—who isn’t—but he had a girlfriend, and unfortunately for him…

You don’t like to share…

Many whiny groans and the sound of loud buzzing brought you from your thoughts as you turned to look at Miguel in the corner to see something even more astonishing than Peter’s previous advances.

Miguel was panting, breathing heavily with his head pressed against the back of the leather booth. His black denims were drawn down, revealing his strained cock and the beautiful red and blue vibrator ring around his base. His eyes rolled uncontrollably behind his glasses, his mouth agape while he rambled in a blend of Spanish and English.

You could only make out the English phrases and words he uttered, which mostly were pleas and begs, all desiring one thing and one thing only.

“Please—ay cono. Let me cum. Please, let me cum."

He implored incessantly, his words so full of need and desperation. You could tell he was slowly losing it; the pleasure was blinding him, and he was only at level 7. You were hoping to try the highest level on him, but maybe another time…

You didn’t want to completely ruin your new puppy…

You leaned towards him, running a finger over his sticky tip, tracing patterns across it. He whined and squirmed in his seat at your touch. “Aww, you want to stop playing already? I wanted to try level 10.” You told him with a fake pout. He frantically shook his head, gasps of air passing his parted lips. “Goodness, no. Please, I-I can’t take any more.” He begged so perfectly that you almost allowed him to.

Well,

Almost…

“I’ll let you cum on one condition,” you proposed, taking his chin in your fingers and turning him to meet your eyes. His eyes fluttered, his hands found your wrist, grabbing on tightly to stabilize himself. His face was flushed, his defined cheeks a rosy red, and his forehead covered with beads of sweat. He looked adorable, practically begging you with his hooded doe eyes to allow him to cum. You smirked, caressing his chin.

“Tell me you are my little puppy and sweeten the deal with a cute little bark.”

You giggled, eliciting a growl that came out more like a groan. “A-Are you serious?” he panted, making your smile only broaden. “Very, and I’ll only raise the level of the vibrator if you don’t,” you said with a grin, loving the look of defeat that covered his face. “Shit,” he cursed, looking away.

“No, eyes on me.”

You sternly said, hastily yanking his chin back towards you. He clenched his jaw, making eye contact with you once more. His amber orbs were full of anger, but his desire to be relieved of the vibrator and finally be granted his satisfying release led him to speak what you wanted.

“I-I’m your… l-little… 

Puppy.”

He uttered reluctantly through shaky moans as you waited patiently for the best part of his whole confession. He growled, shaking his head. “I’m not barking.”

You huffed, giving him a stern look. “Do I have to threaten you again about that video? How about I take that little vibrator and give it to the dean instead?” you said with an evil grin. “It has your… essence all over it. Wouldn’t be hard to discover it’s yours.” You cackled. He scowled, gazing up at you through breathy moans. “You are s-such a bitch.”

“Are you sure? You are looking more like a bitch than me right now,” you spat with a laugh, piercing your nails into his chin. “Now be my good little puppy and bark.” You demanded once more, eyes trained on his furious and flushed face.

You watched Miguel resist you as hard as he could. He put up such a fight, remaining silent to disobey for a good while, but just like any wild dog, they break, they snap...

They submit.

So, it didn’t take long before the most satisfying sounds filled your ears.

“Woof…Woof.”

A wave of satisfaction overcame you, akin to taking a refreshing sip of a chocolate milkshake on a hot day. Your glossy lips pulled into a smile, feeling completely overjoyed as you stared at your official new lapdog. “Gosh, I’m going to have so much fun with you,” you promised, caressing his chin affectionately. Miguel’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and his entire face turned red; even his cock frantically throbbed around the pulsating ring.

Like a dog wagging his tail, he seemed to like that idea very much...

You wrapped a hand around his shaft, stroking him at a fast pace while the ring continued to buzz against him. “Be a good boy and cum for me,” you whispered. “Make me proud, puppy,” you told him, kissing along his jawline and earning a loud groan to erupt from his throat. His hips left the seat, meeting your fist with each thrust upwards. “Oh yes. Fuck,” he cried through closed eyes.

The leather booth began to creak loudly at his frenzied movement, his cock sliding in and out of your palm, completely slick with his precum. You could feel how powerful the vibrations were on his sensitive shaft whilst he continued to fuck your fist.

“Shit, shit, I’m cumming,” he groaned, before a loud guttural, deep moan erupted from deep within his chest, his thick, muscular thighs quivering. Veins bulge along the underside of his abdomen upon his climax, and with one final thrust into your hand, he shot his white, creamy load.

And the four-eyed male just kept impressing you over and over again.

His release seemed to be endless. More and more of his seed dripped from his slit, coating your hand and the buzzing toy. The vibrating ring and your fisting only seemed to milk him completely, causing him to whimper and whine uncontrollably, continuing to paint his shaft, your hand, his beige sweater, and the leather seats in his essence.

When he was finished, you took in the huge mess he’d made with a grin. “Look at what you’ve done,” you purred, grabbing a few napkins to clean your hands. Miguel didn’t respond, only babbling softly, his words unintelligible.

You laughed at his thoroughly satisfied expression, finding it utterly adorable how fucked-out he looked. You relieved him of the vibrator, turning it off and removing it from his swollen shaft, the toy completely coated with his sticky fluids. 

You smirked, eyeing the white-coated ring; it was so enticing that you couldn't help but bring the toy to your mouth to give it a taste. Like savoring the sweetness of honey on a wand, you ran your tongue along the vobrator, humming in ecstasy.

Your eyes fluttered at the taste. His seed was different—something you couldn't quite put into words, but an essence you'd definitely want more of in the future, something you had to taste straight from the source.

After sucking the ring clean, you placed it into your bag and slid closer to Miguel. His eyes were still closed, his chest heaving up and down while his body spasmed—small tremors spreading through his massive being.

You turned his face towards you, a finger resting under his chin. His eyes fluttered open to meet your satisfied gaze. “I’m happy you enjoyed yourself, puppy,” you whispered, an airy chuckle passing his lips at your words. “I had no choice… 

So I might as well enjoy it,” 

He muttered breathlessly, his response made you even prouder. Your little puppy was understanding the game—the fun. You couldn’t help but love the dork even more.

You leaned closer to him, your nose brushing against his. 

“Finally… you are starting to get it,” you uttered, pressing a rough and searing kiss to his mouth. Miguel, completely exhausted and shocked, instantly lost the fight, giving you control.

You devoured his mouth hungrily, his plush lips feeling just right and tasting even better as your tongue entered his parted lips. He groaned, kissing you back, but not enough to dominate nor challenge you, which you adored so much.

You kissed him until you were satisfied, sucking his lips until they were pink and swollen, and tasting his mouth with your tongue. You then pulled away from his enticing lips, both of you panting heavily. You looked him over with a smirk, patting his head and running your manicured fingers through his coffee-brown hair, and to your satisfaction, he didn’t pull away—either from weariness or pure enjoyment, it seemed your puppy had accepted his role. 

But you couldn’t be so sure…

You smiled, sliding out of the booth and picking up your $500 Prada bag from the seat. His amber eyes were full of confusion as he looked you over. You met your adorable lapdog’s gaze, standing before him in your lavish clothes—a white crop top, pink Gucci jacket, skirt, and heels.

You gave him a sly grin, slinging your purse over your shoulder. “Clean yourself up and have my homework done by 10. 

I want you at my sorority house tonight,” 

You smirked, watching his tanned cheeks turn a deep red. Your eyes took him in one last time, taking in his little mess, his flustered and stunned expression, softened cock, massive body, and those dorky glasses.

 All of that and so much more was yours now.

All yours…

“See you then,” you giggled, blowing him a kiss, and turning on your pink high heels, leaving the dork flabbergasted.

You swung open the door of Mama’s diner, stepping out onto the sidewalk and into the bustling streets of Nueva York. You put on your pink heart-shaped shades, the evening sun beaming upon your face, as an unshakeable smile adorned your glossy lips.

You were excited, no, delighted. 

You had discovered something better than a measly assistant that you had desired before. 

You had a permanent peasant, a puppy who was none other than the outcast of your college—the student at the bottom of the student hierarchy and hated by all was officially yours. 

And you couldn’t wait to have so much more fun with your little bitch boy, Miguel O’Hara.

Your new lapdog...

A/N: I enjoyed writing this soo much!! 😆

I hope u guys enjoyed it as well, I'm thinking of writing a Part 2 but...idk 🤔😏

But hope u guys liked!! 💗💗

P.S: Part 3 of 'A Fate Worse Than Death' would be up next week, my apologies, I just had to write this one. 😌

<3 Taglist:

~@oscarissac2099

~@powerful-niya

(Let me know in the comments if you'll like to become a part of the taglist! ❤️)

(*All rights reserved. DO NOT repost/translate/copy any of my work.*)

[freakoont]

❝𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐩𝐨 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬❞

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐨 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐃𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫: 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐩𝐨 𝐄𝐝𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚 【ＳＦＷ　ａｎｄ　ＮＳＦＷ ｉｎｃｌｕｄｅｄ】

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

GENDER NETURAL BUT AFAB READER sorry :')

REQUESTS ARE OPEN ! check the bottom of this post for information <3

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

【ＳＦＷ】

When you first start to begin noticing signs of having a crush on him, Ranpo immediately picks up on it.

Does he actually say or do anything about it? No . . . Not for a long while.

He's not embarrassed or nervous about it, actually he uses your little crush as a advantage to tease and mess with your cute little brain !

"hey, (Y/N) can you get me some pockys? I'm about to die from hunger, y'know!"

"..I'm busy, Ranpo."

"oh, fine."

...

"oh yeah, (Y/N) I seem to recall you were staring a lot at me earlier, which is kind of odd for a friend-"

"I'll get those snacks now"

Ranpo's never had a crush or significant other, so there are some things he doesn't know what to do. but he mostly treats your relationship the same way he treated you back when you were just friends

At first, he was a little nervous about saying things like 'I love you' because he thought it sounded cringe, but after a short while he needs to hear you say it 30 times a hour with lots of kisses💋

Ranpo can be a little shit at times, but he makes up for it for his good memory and always being able to understand you better than you know yourself.

Example: Ranpo will always remember little things about you! He noticed you staring at a T-shirt in the mall once and suddenly you've got it gifted to you, "from the worlds greatest detective; to my favorite assistant"

A lot of times when you're working in ADA, Ranpo will just hop onto your lap and keep still and silent as he eat snacks.

He loves being in your presence, just being around you is enough.

He's not crazy on PDA, usually holding your hand and dragging you along with him. He'll occasionally tease and embarrass you in public though, most of the time it isn't intentional

"(Y/NNNNN) :( can we please go to that bakeshop !"

"we were just at one. Besides, you still have that cake to finish at home."

"..."

"WHAT THE- GET OFF MY BACK YOU CRAZY MAN-"

"LETS GO TO THE BAKESHOP THEN-"

Ranpo is a BIG cuddle bug! He loves being little spoon especially. Just laying on top of your chest or besides you as you caress his hair and kiss his forehead

He'll melt from your touch

He's a baby

Ranpo doesn't usually get jealous. It's a rare thing actually, he's a chill guy and just uses his deduction to know you love him 110%

He's probably gotten used to Dazai flirting with you, before you two got together, that he's unbothered by other people

TXT: "Ranpo ! Some guy is flirting with me !"

TXT: "👍"

TXT: "do you not care that someone is trying to get with me?"

TXT: "woah there. FIRST OF ALL☝️ I've already deducted that you wouldn't do anything to hurt me. You care to much. SECOND OF ALL☝️ I've also deduced that he's drunk"

TXT: "I'll go buy you some ice cream now..(⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)"

TXT: "👍"

...

TXT: "ily"

TXT: "I love you too(⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡"

I feel like Ranpo isn't good with feelings and his words. When he notices that you're angry or upset, he'll kind of just be lost on what to do to cheer you up

He'll make some unhelpful comments here and there, trying to cheer you up and joke around... But then it might piss you off a little more

HE'S TRYING(⁠｡⁠•́⁠︿⁠•̀⁠｡⁠)

He's bad at reading emotions, and when he does understand he'll share his snacks and keep quiet...

His love language is: words of affirmation and physical touch

He's not one to use pet names, just usually call you by his own nickname for you and that's it. Occasionally he'll call you his 'favorite assistant' or his 'watson'

Ranpo gets a boost in his confidence whenever you praise him. You and Fukuzawa are definitely the most important people in his lives, meaning your words mean SO MUCH to him

If you're the type to like cooking and cleaning, you've won him over. He hates chores and loves just sitting around and eating snacks

If you feed him as he sits or lays on your lap he'll literally die a happy man

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

【ＮＳＦＷ】

Ranpo is a switch, but definitely leans towards a bottom more

He'll be a very loud person in bed when you're on top of him.

If you tease him and poke at his sensitive parts, Ranpo will get flustered. You will catch him blushing and trying to keep quiet, just poke at him some more

Of course, don't be mean to him though. He only likes it when you praise him for doing good, because he's very inexperienced.

Ranpo is good at giving oral, he knows how to read you and where you like to be touched the most

Whenever Ranpo has a rough day, he'll either want you to ride him to make him feel better or he'd want to eat you out

"Mmmm... You look so good riding me like that,"

"just like that, Aah~"

"Love, I'm gonna- A-Ah"

He's noisy, but you can shut him upಡ⁠ ͜⁠ ⁠ʖ⁠ ⁠ಡ

Ranpo doesn't have that strong of a sexual desire. Sex isn't the most important thing to him. it's you🫵

If you ask him enough, praise him all day, and have a little teasing at eachother, maybe your lucky enough to walk home with him pulling you into the bed(⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

His favorite positions are cowgirl/reverse cowgirl, anything with you taking control

He's very lazy and will let you do most of the work

Ranpo actually doesn't have any kinks, and I know a lot of you will be like "no he'd have a praise kink☝️" but I'm sorry to say that, Ranpo would 100% find the idea of kinks disgusting

LIKE I KNOW. I can see him having a praise kink too but it just fits so well for him to find 'kinks' disgusting

He doesn't like using toys either. Well, specifically for himself

If he feels like teasing you and edging you on, expect him to be using a vibrator on you and moving it around to get you moaning, but that's it really

If you're a easily-embarrassed or awkward and shy person, he'll definitely tease and mess with you when he's taking the lead

He's definitely had you doing things with him in the office and after you're finished you'll be like, "did... Did that really just happen?🧍‍♀️"

"Ranpo, the others are gonna be back any moment, please let's just finish at home.."

"Mmm, not a chance... Now, if you're so worried about it, you better start moving faster for me, sweet one.." he spoke, his hand on your ass as he straddled you on his lap as he sucked on a lollipop, his eyes were on yours. His other hand moved up your back and caressed your body.

How did you ever get dragged into this with him? Oh wait. It's Ranpo.

Ranpo loves face sitting

He'll eat you out like a unspoken religion, digging his teeth into your inner thighs just to hear your sweet noises as he knows he's doing good

He also loves it when you leave lipstick kisses all over him

YOU'LL LITERALLY MAKE HIM ALL NERVOUS AND BLUSHING. He'll be at a loss for words and start to ignore all eye contact

༻༺━━━━⁎∗.*.∗⁎━━━━༻༺

REQUESTS - I am accepting any requests for any character for the following fandoms:

Bungo Stray Dogs, Genshin Impact, Danganronpa, Ninjago, Southpark, Obey Me, 7 Deadly Sins, Tokyo Revengers, Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, Death Note, Walking Dead, Demon Slayer, Assassination Classroom, Hunter X Hunter, Komi Can't Communicate, Diabolik Lovers and Doki Doki Literature Club

I will write any of the following: smut (all characters WILL be aged up), fluff, crack/joke, specific plot, angst, HC's, BL, GL

Do not expect me to write any of the following: intense gore scene, sexual themes that are disturbing to most people and anything that will get me banned for a specific and obvious reason.

I accept requests for any character from any of the fandoms I have named :)

[tgcg]

part 1 of something specific

TG: oh my god you get it

CG: OF COURSE I FUCKING DO, DAVE. I’LL ALLOW MYSELF CREDIT FOR ONE GOOD THING, AND THAT’S THE FACT THAT I KNOW HOW TO CONSUME MEDIA CORRECTLY.

TG: you understand me

TG: so many damn times ive tried to turn john over on this business and he doesnt listen

TG: like you dont need to be gay to see how naruto and sasuke are the romance of the fuckin century man its not rocket science dare i say it is elementary level 

CG: IT’S BASIC READING COMPREHENSION, I AGREE.

CG: I’M NOT ABOUT TO EVEN *TRY* TO UNDERSTAND EARTH’S BIASES TO CERTAIN FORMS OF ROMANCE, BUT IS IT LITERALLY JUST BECAUSE THEY’RE BOTH GUYS?

TG: i dunno i dont think hes like

TG: homophobic or something

TG: i think if anyone is the number one ally to anything its probably john yknow hed have your back bro if you were all up and being bisexual on earth and people werent scrambling hand over foot away from you because youre an alien 

TG: but just because you were that 

TG: thing

TG: bisexual

CG: YEAH, THAT THING.

TG: he wouldnt care man

TG: he wouldnt give a shit or fuck about it probably

CG: SPEAKING OF LABELS THOUGH!

TG: aw man are you about to pull out the quadrant shiz on my boys

TG: are you gonna tell me naruto and sasuke got a hate on for each other or something cus thats 

CG: OH JEGUS NO, DAVE. THAT WOULD BE COMPLETELY MISSING THE POINT OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP’S GROWTH AND THEIR ENTIRE DYNAMIC, NEVERMIND THE PURPOSE OF THE STORY ITSELF.

TG: alright lay it on me shercock homos ill be your watson watching you with the big twinkling eyes of a newborn fawn

TG: sleuth this shit like you were there when kishimoto invented it

TG: his alien understudy rises from the caverns of anime hell clutching the scroll of one universally understood truth and with his otaku disciples there to listen he takes a deep breath and delivers his groundquaking sermon to the masses

TG: jesus take the mic

CG: I’M CLUTCHING THE MICROPHONE IN MY CALLOUSED AND BONE-DRY TOUCHSTUMPS, BODY WEARY AND ON THE BRINK OF CAVING IN ON ITSELF, BUT I SPEAK WITH A STALWART DETERMINATION THAT WILL RING TRUE THROUGHOUT THE COSMOS FOR SWEEPS TO COME. THEY WILL WRITE MY FUCKING WORDS IN THE STARS, DAVE. IT’LL BE ALL THEY HAVE LEFT OF ME EVENTUALLY, BECAUSE I’LL PREACH IT HARD AND FEVERISH UNTIL THIS MORTAL COIL DECIDES IT’S FINALLY HAD ENOUGH OF PUTTING MY PATHETIC HALF-CORPSE THROUGH THE RINGER BY MAKING ME GET UP EVERY MORNING LIKE IT’S SOME KIND OF JOKE, AND FINALLY LETS ME KEEL OVER. THAT, DAVE, IS MY CRUCIFIXION. IT REPEATS ITSELF, OUROBOROS-LIKE, EVERY CYCLE, AND MAY WELL LAST UNTIL THE COLLAPSE OF PARADOX SPACE ITSELF SINCE THEY APPARENTLY FIND IT SO INCREDIBLY HILARIOUS. THEY BETTER MARTYR THE FUCK OUT OF ME. YOU BETTER PERSONALLY SEE TO IT THAT I AM MARTYRED TO *SHIT*.

TG: done and done

CG: THANK YOU. WHERE WAS I? OH RIGHT. NARUTO SHIP ANALYSIS.

[thewritingmagician2022]

Terms of Endearment - Brothers and Dateables

Lucifer: My love, my dear

Lucifer tends to use the more traditional pet names for his partner when he does use them, which isn’t very often. He will call you my love or my dear when he’s particularly pleased or feeling sentimental, and he’s also known to use them when you’re upset. 

Mammon: My human, my baby/babe

Mammon regularly uses nicknames for his partner that begin with my like my human or my babe/baby. He really just like anything that sounds possessive because it shows everyone how you belong to him. They’re not super sappy names though because he has his tough reputation to live up to. 

Levi: Henry, true friend, normie

Levi uses a lot nicknames because there’s something super embarrassing and vulnerable about using your actual name. He uses casual nicknames, almost joking ones, like normie or Henry. He likes hearing you laugh when he uses them but he blushes like crazy if you ever use on one him. 

Satan: Kitten, darling, Watson

Satan is all about the romantic nicknames; typically he will use something like darling or kitten, especially when he is in a good mood. However, he will sometimes use Watson when he is in one of his chaotic or fun moods. Watson may be his favorite honestly because it just shows how great of a team you are. 

Asmo: Hun, darling, beautiful/gorgeous, sweetie, anything goes.

We all that Asmo uses nonstop pet names. It’s second nature to him to call you anything cute that he can think of: hun, sweetie, darling, gorgeous. He’ll even make up random little nonsense names like ‘my sugar free cupcake’ because he loves to see how far he can take it before you call him out on how ridiculous he’s being. 

Beel: Honey, sweetheart

Beel is a very simple guy. He’s not going to use flowery nicknames or use them all the time.Typically, he’s going to use your name or maybe a shortened version of it, but if you catch him in a particularly soft mood or if he’s trying to comfort you, he might call you honey or sweetheart. 

Belphie: Idiot, princess/prince

Belphie, like Beel, doesn’t use nicknames a lot but he does it more than his twin. Belphie will call you idiot like a term of endearment and then call you princess/prince and make it sound like an insult. Honestly, he just enjoys riling you up. If he’s actually trying to be nice, he will call you his dream. 

Diavolo: My queen/king, actual name

Diavolo looooves nicknames. He didn’t grow up with them or any friends to use them on so he tries out all different kinds with you at first, figuring out what you both liked best. He loves to call you dearest (since you’re the person he cares about most) and once you’re in a serious relationship, he likes to call you his king/queen. Once in a while he’ll throw out something like “pookie” because he heard someone else say it and it always leads to a good laugh. 

Barbatos: My lady, actual name

Barbatos follows a strict set of rules and has perfect manners which means he’s not known for using nicknames. He thinks even using someone’s first name can be incredibly intimate based on his station but, deep down, Barbatos is incredibly soft, especially for MC. When they are alone, he’ll regularly call them ‘love’ or ‘my heart’. He uses these because he claims you are the person who brought love into the heart he forgot he had. 

Solomon: My better half, something based on an inside joke

Solomon enjoys using nicknames but almost all of them are a joke. He typically uses embarrassing moments or inside jokes to come up with them and they change out regularly. It wouldn’t be weird for him to call you something like ‘spilled milk’ or ‘my croissant’. But, during serious moments or when he’s introducing you to someone, Solomon likes to call you his better half because that’s exactly what he thinks you are. 

Simeon: lamb/little lamb, sunshine

Simeon goes 50/50 with pet names. Like Barbatos and Beel, he most enjoys using them in private but he’s certainly not ashamed to use them in front of people if he thinks the moment calls for it. He most commonly calls you lamb or little lamb and it’s always said so fondly that it makes up for any condenscion you might feel. He will also call you sunshine because he claims you not only light up the Devildom but also his life. 

[lilcreaturethingfromthewoods]

I know everyone talks about the Sherlock series but why does no one know the old Russian Sherlock Holmes films (1970s, 1980s-ish)? Because not only are they really really good, Sherlock is actually a really nice guy (plus the storylines are extremely faithful to the original books).

But the first film/episode is probably one of the best, because when Holmes and Watson first meet, nobody tells Watson what this guy does for a living (I don't really think many people know, either). And Watson sees this man with his chemical reactions in the living room, lock-picking tools lying around on the table, a freaking human eye in a glass of water, and all the weird visitors that arrive (some of whom are never seen to leave), and in an impeccable leap of logic, decides that he is living in the same house as a master criminal.

And Sherlock freaking just. Rolls with it. Not just that, he actively trolls Watson. After the incident that reveals to Watson finding out about the whole detective thing, he asks, 'By the way, what happened to that weird old man who went into your room that one time and never came out?' and Sherlock waits until he's not looking, reaches down, picks up the mask and does the old-man-voice while using it as a hand puppet. I mean, come on.

Not to mention the time Sherlock points out a person on the street, says a bunch of stuff about him, his marriage status, what kind of dog he has, and when Watson asks him to explain, Sherlock just. Goes over. Says in a serious tone. 'Well, the thing is, that man just so happens to be my older brother.'

[dduane]

...So once again it's the time of year when I return to this piece of digital art (or its earlier versions), tweak it a little in the attempt to get closer to what I see in my head, and repost it for Pride. (ETA, 3 June 2024: image tweaked a little bit more via late-night re-render because the upholstery wasn't rendering correctly, and as a result the kitty sort of vanished. Which would not be at all her style...)

At the moment I'm looking at These Two Idiots (for so they are) and considering with the usual bemusement how long I've been working with them. Of all the characters I've worked with in print, the only ones I've known longer would be the crew of NCC-1701—and very shortly now, for the first time as paid writing, a couple of gentlemen named Holmes and Watson.

I first "met" these guys in late 1970 in the form of the fellow college students on whom they'd be based: a couple of gents (not gay, as it happens) who were friends to me when I needed some. They were a tall dark guy and a short blond one with a mustache that came and went... so that, not even knowing the word "trope" at the time, I fell headfirst into one.

Less than a year after I met them, I changed educational tracks and schools, and we all drifted apart. But something about them stuck. The nature and depth of their friendship was unusual. So was one way it manifested itself: in ruthless snark that had no meanness or cruelty about it whatsoever—just affection.

In the late sixties I'd begun writing some very derivative fic strongly influenced by Tolkien. Rather to my surprise, though, as I started nursing school in 1971, the nature of that fiction started to change, and began rearranging itself around two characters who had a friendship like those of my college friends. With them as its core, a rather different kind of medieval-ish fantasy world started knitting itself together from various scraps of themes and imagery lying around in the back of my brain.

Even so early in the construction phases of this world, something the characters quickly made plain to me in the writing was that their relationships with one another were not what mainstream 1970s culture would consider conventional. They were gay... but that was a background issue,* and not at all the most important thing in their lives. They had far more important business to deal with—as became clear as their personalities and priorities started filling themselves out in the foreground.

One of them turned out to be the deliberate, analytical, methodical son of a provincial nobleman, all too aware of the expectations of those around him: that he might well eventually wind up running that province himself. Yet at the same time he also became aware that he had other problems, chief among them the discovery of a nascent power that would kill him young if he couldn't master it. And in the last thousand years, no one of his gender ever had.

The other presented himself more and more clearly as a difficult case: someone who wanted very much to be good at the family business, but wasn't... and knew it. Kind of a screw-up, repeatedly doing the wrong things for what he was sure were the right reasons. Yet, no matter how often he screwed up, he was also the kind of person who keeps picking himself up and trying again, because he's been told over and over that that's what people like him have to do: otherwise they're no use to anybody.

Imagine my shock when I realized that these two men—initially canonically enemies in their adolescence, then best friends as they grew, and eventually much more—were the (incomplete) answer to the question I'd once asked my Mom at the end of the bedtime reading of some fairy tale or other: "Why can't a prince rescue another prince?" Because one of them got himself more than once into situations where he really needed one kind or another of rescuing. The other one obliged him, while once or twice getting rescued himself. Those interlocking patterns started to solidify out of concept and into character detail and plot, while their world grew and proliferated into its own detail around them.

Then, without warning, in 1978 both world and characters decided they were ready to get real. I was abruptly dragged gasping and flailing under the surface of a novel that would begin the tale of what those two characters had yet to become. The period it took to produce that first draft was possibly the most interesting six weeks of my life... and that includes the six weeks during which I first scrubbed in on brain surgery. Day and night, for days at a time, I barely even existed except as something for a novel to come out of. When it was done with me, it just as abruptly dumped me back into my life and wandered away, leaving me staring around, blinking and wondering if anybody’d got the number of that truck. Nothing like it has ever happened to me since, which may be just as well. I’m none too sure that these days I could handle the strain.

The book—which sold a couple of weeks after it landed on its first publisher's desk—kicked off my career as novelist and screenwriter, and in its way proved that the world was at least somewhat ready for epic fantasy in which the basic culture was pansexual, polyamorous, and inclusive in ways that hadn't been attempted before.

So I owe them a debt, those two gentlemen up there: the tall dark curly-haired guy with the amateur strategist's mind, the blacksmith's shoulders, and the peculiar sword, his background thought always nibbling away at the question of how to heal the world's wounds: and the short fair gent who if he could would stay at home, live quietly in town, and work in the local library... except for when saving the world (or his found family) requires him to subsume his being into that of his ancestral demigod. Due to the success of the book in which they made their debut, these two became, in their way, the fairy† godfathers of the Young Wizards—and additionally enabled all that Star Trek fanfic I'd started writing a decade before to proceed to its logical conclusion.

More to the point, though, a lot of people in the 1980s and '90s who'd never seen queer representation in a fantasy novel, found it first, or at last, while following Herewiss and Freelorn down their road. It's been my pleasure to hold that space for new readers, and keep adding to it... because (if you ask me) it's needed more now than ever.

So, to the readership of the Middle Kingdoms works—now pushing half a century old—and everybody else who's celebrating the season: happy Pride!

*Not least because everybody else in their world is (at least potentially) some shade of queer, including God.

†(snicker)

[ch3rubd0lls]

Hotting and hollering at this part of The Reigate Puzzle

Client: Hey Watson your detective is looking kind of excitable.. kind of manic and off-putting dare I say, are you sure he should be working in his sickly state (he'd just been hospitalized so a fair worry ngl)

Mad lad John: no he's just Like That, give him 2 days and he'll solve your murder and probably three more crimes you didn't know happened.

In addition, anothet part of this story that I find HILARIOUS is that Holmes & Watson explicitly go to the country to REST, we are RESTING and RECIVERING Sherlock and not FIGHTING CRIME

Holmes two seconds later: Okay I know you said no crime.. but this guy just got murdered sooo

And watson just accepts it because no way is this gayass inspector gonna back down now

I love them theyre so stupid

[curioscurio]

Reading a lot of Sherlock Holmes, and trying to draw victorian men accurately will lead you to learning that people wrote on their shirt cuffs often in ink because they were detachable and usually made of extremely starched linen or PAPER. working class men would find them stiff, overly formal, or not worth spending the money on it, but if you were mid to upper class then it was expected that you wear just as much complicated, sillohuete focused shapewear as women. Victorian men also wore corsets, especially military men, to achieve that puffy chest and flat stomach look around the 1820's.

The male corset fad had died down a little around the turn of the century (1880-early 1900's) as women fought for more comfortable and less oppressive shapewear, and effeminate men ridiculed for wearing the once fashionable and even medically recommended undergarmet. However, the male corset in the 1880's was still fairly popular enough to be advertised by dressmakers!

(Forgive me not citing my sources at the moment, but these advertisements I believe are dated around 1880 when mens corsets fell out of popular style but were still available and fashionable in certain circles.)

Therefore, it is reasonable to assume that Dr. Watson, being both a medical and military man... probably wouldn't have worn a corset at the time of his deployment around 1880, unfortunately. ( I know, we're all dissappinted.)

Not that he couldn't wear one if he wanted to! But based on ACD cannon, I really feel that he would not be the kind of guy to wear one. Call it speculation, but if I had been deployed and then shot in the shoulder and leg, wearing a corset would be all but torture on my body. Let alone trying to wrestle an injured soldier out of one while trying to stitch him up. Corsets for military men were more of a fashion statement than a medical device; and even then, it was only helpful for orthopedic reasons (back problems mostly).

It was also around that time that the Women's Dress Reform movement began. Despite the Sherlock Holmes novels being ripe with period-typical misogyny, I like to imagine that Watson would side with the women and medical professionals on this one, in that they were often restrictive, unnecessary, and medically harmful in the long run.

Sherlock Holmes, however, absolutely has a large variety of both male and female corsets for various disguises and probably wears them often. This isn't explicitly stated in canon or anything, I just feel it in my heart.

Sorry if this is all over the place or not completely accurate! I went down a rabbit hole but am totally open to any corrections! Also I think the idea of Watson lacing up Holmes and grumbling about corsets is a funny visual lol

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom

The Key to His Heart

It is often said that the key to a man’s heart, goes through his stomach. Well, that doesn’t apply to the man who owns my heart, and vice versa. By all means, we do indulge in culinary treats. 

In our younger days, it was heaps of take-away; Indian, Chinese, Indonesian. Never Italian, though. Angelo would’ve been devastated if we sought out Italian food somewhere else.

And there were of course the sweets, to satisfy the madman I lived with. 

(Still lives with, to be clear.) 

Ginger nuts, jammy dodgers, scones, Mrs. Hudson’s home baked cakes and biscuits, tiramisu, chocolate mousse, and sticky toffee pudding.

But I’m rambling. My madman, the great Sherlock Holmes, still doesn’t eat the amount of food I would like him to. He still claims that it slows him down. Not that he has places to be nowadays. If you don’t count his beloved beehives that is.

I seem unable to keep my thoughts collected on one topic today. The thing I was going to tell you about, was how I, John Hamish Watson, was given the key to the detective’s heart.

Everyone thought we were a couple from the day I moved into Baker Street. Quite a lot of them took it as a personal insult, when we, well, mostly I, objected to the assumption.

“Not gay!” I shouted out to anyone who cared to listen.

Few did, but the one that mattered the most, always listened. It still hurts to think about. 

Sherlock is interested in all kinds of things, but the thing that has stuck with him since childhood, is the fascination for bees. I was stunned when he told me about it quite early in our acquaintanceship. Living in London assured that we didn’t come across them very often, unless we walked the parks. We mostly ran through the parks, always chasing the bad guys. That was a relief, because I was terrified of the tiny creatures. 

“How is that possible? You invaded Afghanistan,” Sherlock protested when I told him.

“Well, childhood trauma isn’t that easily forgotten, Sherlock,” I stated.

When I was eight years old, I was stung by dozens of bees. I had been fighting with Harry, and she pushed me against our uncle’s two beehives. The push was hard, and both hives fell to the ground. I can still recall the angry buzzing and the bees’ fierce attack. It was summer, and I was only wearing a pair of shorts… 

Enough about my childhood horrors. 

It took me too long to realise that I loved Sherlock. Even when he came back from the dead, I acted like I hadn’t grieved him like a lover.

Keep calm and carry on.

Sherlock’s sudden illness, which forced him to stay in bed for almost a fortnight, made us both come out of our shells. His high fever made him hallucinate, and he was quite talkative throughout. He pledged his love for me numerous times a day, mostly in his sleep, so I didn’t put much into the declarations. I worked it out in the end and did some pledging myself.

He wasn’t entirely convinced at first. The not gay statement still lingered in his mind, and he was reluctant to do more than occasionally holding my hand and hug me. So, I decided to convince him. I just had to get Harry on board. She was surprisingly amenable to my suggestion to buy her share of our uncle’s cottage, which we both had inherited some years previous. 

Sherlock didn’t know about it. I had almost forgotten about it myself by that time. 

The cottage was called “In the Meadows”, and the name fit perfectly. It was surrounded by them on three sides, and said meadows needed some taming. Nobody had lived there for at least three years. An old neighbour had kept an eye on it, though, so it wasn’t in total decay. It needed some loving hands, which I hoped Sherlock and I could provide.

I took him down to Sussex one sunny Saturday in May. The neighbour had assured me that beehives were in place, and the gear needed to tend to them.

“Happy belated birthday, Sherlock,” I said when we stood outside the house.

“What do you mean, John?” he asked, too stunned to deduce and observe properly.

“It’s for you. Or us, really,” I told him.

I was so anxious for his reaction.

The blinking came first. I had anticipated that. What came as a total surprise was the kiss once he had spotted the hives.

He turned to face me, cradled my face, and pressed his lips softly against mine. I almost stopped breathing but finally got my arms to work and circled them around his waist.

“My John. You…how…but you’re terrified of…” Sherlock stuttered after he broke the kiss.

“Well, I’ll just have to trust you to protect me for once, then,” I murmured, still dazed from the tender kiss.

“Do you really love me that much, John?” Sherlock inquired.

“More than anything,” I told him, which lead to further kisses.

If you wondered; yes, we’re both retired, and our address isn’t 221B Baker Street anymore, but “In the Meadows”, Sussex.

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

This is also my entry to the Sherlock Challenge of July, prompt: key.

@flashfictionfridayofficial @sherlockchallenge @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno

@helloliriels @raina-at @meetinginsamarra @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitch-adler

@topsyturvy-turtely @jolieblack @peanitbear @phoenix27884 @bs2sjh

@brandiwein1982 @meandhisjohn @a-victorian-girl @221beloved @ninasnakie

@shy-bi-inlovewithregandmoony @lhrinchelsea @missdeliadilisblog

(Tell me if you want to be tagged or untagged)

[thenightshadowqueen]

The best character from each longform

(in my biased opinion)

This is (obviously) a long one, so if you do want to read it, more below.

(Also I left out the Patreon plays. I might do a separate post for them later; we’ll see.)

Jimmy (Tom, Toby’s Secret Pocket)

Look, Jimmy is the best. He’s adorable. He’s the representation we as the autistic community needed. He has happy flappy stimmy hands. He can’t walk through doors. We love him. (STOPINTHENAMEOFTHELAW!!!!!)

André Beetroot (AJ, Burglary and Bobsledding)

André Beetroot (André Beetroot) was iconic the first time around, but his return as the first recurring SFTH character obviously had to be memorialised.

The boy witch (Sam, Moist and Magical)

I was tempted by the witchfinder general, but the boy witch won out with “Henry Cavill with a wasting disease” and his thick accent. Also the cheeky little look he gives his grandma (Luke) when he flips her off wins him a lot of points.

Hugh’s mum (Tom, Marigolds Bluebells and Hugh)

She’s, like, a fair bit unhinged, but she has good intentions. She’s got amazing quotes, too; “why couldn’t you have just stayed in my womb forever” and “if you love something, lock it up” are both deeply concerning, but I love them.

The wife (Tom, Murders in Space)

This one is kind of an obvious choice. I mean, her quotes are glorious, and honestly “have you ever heard of feminism, James?” gets her top spot automatically.

Mario the sheep (Sam, the Lighthouse)

Was this even a question? I love Mario intending to be a one-scene character and then being forced to star in the whole play. I love the human bits. I love “🐑fuck you🐑”. I love the sheep (aka Sam) having a fucking breakdown at the end. 10/10 all around.

Titch (Luke, the Unrelenting Aubergine)

Listen, I was very tempted by Old Lady Margery (and by Derek), but in the end, canon queer guy with commitment issues and insane amounts of blindness around his own feelings won out. What can I say, I have a type in fictional characters.

Troll Son (Luke, Wine Under the Bridge)

Everything about this character is perfect. Screaming as hello? Colourful troll as a metaphor for being queer? Correcting a geography fact? It’s got it all. It’s perfect. I love Troll Son and his wine bar in Ipswich.

Juliet (AJ, Caesar and Juliet)

Is anyone surprised? She’s a murderous girlboss. “[My mother] said you have to be careful about men; they can be corrupted with power. But what she didn’t know is that so can woman.” They can, and I’m here for it. She’s bathing in blood and her skin is glowing. I love insane women.

Watson (Sam, the Mystery of the Midnight Circus)

Watson, driven mad with grief over his divorce and his one-sided love for Sherlock, becomes a murderous clown. Am I supposed to not love this? Is there even another choice in this play? And his breakdown at the end was gorgeous.

Priscilla (AJ, Pricilla’s Final Petal)

I was very tempted by both of her mums, and also a bit by the groundsman, but ultimately, Priscilla won out. She’s the title character. She’s confused, but she’s got the spirit, and she’s working through her trauma with a buttercup and a piano lesson. Good for her.

Marty (Sam, the Evil Make-a-Wish Kid)

I considered the seven-year-old detective, but in the end, Marty won. He’s evil. He’s a make-a-wish kid. What more can I say? He’s got an iconic smirk. He burns down all the petting zoos on the entire planet (and his mum). He dies at the end. He’s brilliant.

Derek (Tom, Susan’s Holiday)

There were a lot of great options in this one, but “I like looking at the back of another man’s head” was too good to pass up. Also, I adore the whole monologue he has while he’s waiting to be buzzed in.

The gasoline salesman (Luke, Beetroots and Murder)

Okay, I know he’s only in, like, a quarter of a scene. I know that. And I can’t tell you why I love him so much but I do. He’s just. I just love him. I can’t explain it. There are so many great characters in this play, but the way he says “could be, could be” has captivated me. If you understand the way my brain works, please contact me, because I don’t.

Peter Steven (Tom, the Milkman)

I love so many characters in this play. I love Gareth, and I love the Texan bartender, and I love David the milkman. But Peter Steven is the sweetest, most traumatised little boy and I want to protect him. I will adopt him and I will never make him walk on his knees again. I will throw away the PS5 and I will let him dig up the back garden as many times as he wants.

Johnny and Janae (Luke and Tom, the Neighbour’s Under the Bed)

I know they’re two separate characters, okay, but they’re a set. I want to keep them together. And I just can’t choose, okay? They’re two autistic children whose neurodivergence presents in opposite ways, and their parents don’t know what to do with them, and oh look, I’m back to wanting to adopt traumatised children.

Captain Egbert (Luke, the Leftenmost Window)

Shoutout to the mum, but Egbert won this one. He’s, like, kind of an idiot. I’m here for it, though. He’s got the iconic “diluileayilybilyeilysilym” speech. He wants to go to the ~astral plane~ but he’s waiting for his birthday. He lets his wife dip him into a kiss even though it’s 1940. I love him.

The king (Sam, the Prime Minister’s First Day)

Listen, I love several characters from this one, but I’m going with this one. He’s unapologetically a dick. He wears impenetrable armour made from diamonds stolen from Indian subculture. He’s impossible to beat. He’s brilliant. (Also did anyone else kind of find Sam hot as the king or is that just me?)

Franz Haberburg (Sam, the Excited Chinchilla)

Obviously fuck Nazis (god I hope that’s obvious). That being said, some of SFTH’s best characters are Nazis, and this is one of them. He’s glorious. I have never seen such a brilliant rendition of a Nazi chinchilla.

The Italian detective (Tom, the Ingredients)

He can’t pronounce paella. Do I need another reason?

Chip (Sam/AJ, the Cardboard Stegosaurus)

Oh look, another traumatised child! I want it. (No, but seriously, I love Chip and his English/French seizures.) Also he’s one of the few characters who switches actors mid-play, and I love that.

Persephone (Tom, Wild Wet and Worrisome)

She’s amazing. “HEY!” is a gorgeous siren call and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. She deserved a happy ending and I’m still sad we didn’t get one. I like to think she swam to the shore and found Geoff again, and they lived happily ever after on a boat at sea, singing and not having to kill anyone.

Full Set O’Hands and his love/bother (Luke and Tom, No! I Always Loved that Caravan)

I know, I know, another set of characters, but you really can’t separate these two. They’re insane. I adore them. They’re just… Honestly, these two are comedy gold. Good for them because they are fucking timeless.

Andrew (Luke, All Eyes on Nigel)

Listen, Andrew is a naive little thing, and he must be protected at all costs. He goes through so much shit in this one, and I just want to wrap him up in a blanket and send him to rehab.

Magnus O. Puss (Tom, BUS)

Okay, this was a VERY close one between them and Arthur B. D., but Magnus is a genderqueer icon and we love them for it. Also, I feel like this is some of the most unhinged Tom content we have and I live for that.

Jeremiah (Luke, Inside the Mysterious Cube)

I was so torn because I love Bubba, too, but I’m trying to avoid putting sets of characters where possible, and Jeremiah just edged past Bubba because his death scene was gorgeous. (That is a mildly concerning reason to have a favourite, I will admit.)

Lord Lafayette (Tom, the Midnight Mystery)

You may be noticing a pattern; I adore Tom’s insane characters. We just don’t get to see that often enough. I love his very sexual flirting with Lady Lafayette (Sam). I love him making fun of the detective’s (Luke’s) shirt. I love “what does any self-respecting rich man do when he has a little boy in tights” followed by “captured—and only captured” as a save. I love him.

Dangerfield (AJ/Tom/AJ again, Once Upon a Time I Killed Mum)

I love the confusion when Tom briefly takes over as Dangerfield; it’s not often we get to see AJ understanding something that Sam doesn’t (I say this with all the love in the world). Dangerfield is so fascinating to me. He’s a “cleaner” for a crime lord, but he has mixed feelings about the things he does. I want to know how he got into it in the first place. How did he come into this life? I want to know.

Barry’s wife (AJ, the Hare who Wore a Sweater)

I don’t remember her having a name, but I could be wrong about that. She’s so sweet; she just wants to knit sweaters for the hares in peace. And then Jimmy the hare gets shot, and she and her husband go on a revenge plot. I’m here for it. I love her.

The king/tank commander (AJ, the Oopsie Daisy Bulge)

He’s obsessed with tanks. He used to have gay sex with his fellow tank commanders, but only as a joke. He sailed all the way around, through the other landlocked counties, into the east of France, and they never saw it coming. He drove tanks into the ocean. He’s so stupid he’s almost smart. I love him.

The landowner/farmer (Luke, Too Big to Be a Jockey)

He farms peasants (Luke, you genius). He’s such a dick, with his classist remarks about Johnny Jones, but somehow I love him anyway. His interview process is looking at a photo of someone and then hiring them, and he’s honestly wonderful. I love him.

Larry (Tom, Long Johns—Strike!)

Literally the only thing he does on screen is die. That’s it. That’s his whole purpose. And he does it beautifully.

Wizard Asceroth (Sam, the Dark Moons of Slough)

ASCEROOOOTTTHHHH!!! (I don’t have another reason. I don’t need another reason.)

The French waiter (Luke, Lost in Your Eyes)

I don’t know. I really don’t. But something about this character has stuck with me since the first time I watched it. Gorgeous accent. He kisses Amanda (Sam) for no reason at all. He gets stabbed by a gun. I love him.

The Lady of a Thousand Don Juans (Luke, the Meringue Haberdashery)

She tricked her husband for years. She murdered her own child. She has been a curse on all the Don Juans in this town. She’s one of the only villains who win at the end of a longform, and that’s very impressive. I love her.

Xavier (Tom, Oh my God is This a Joke?)

(Please refer to my previous statement about Nazi characters.) Okay, look. He’s a horrible person. But we as a fandom choose to disregard that because Tom looks amazing in a leather jacket and scarf. I am not above this. I am, in fact, a part of this. Tom looks amazing in a leather jacket and scarf. “I will die as I have lived…. Shirtless!” has to be one of the most iconic lines of all time. There was never any competition.

[thepersonnamedsam]

graduating - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: you graduated and charles attends your graduation

face claim: emma watson

warning: one hate comment

note: I GRADUATED, omg i can’t believe it, i’m done with school, but still more to come for me, and more posts to come for you <3

masterlist / taglist

yninsta

Liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 46‘729 others

yninsta i did it! bye brown, hello world 🌎

View all 9‘735 comments

charles_leclerc so proud of you, mon chéri

yninsta merci, je t‘aime bébé

charles_leclerc you did so well, forever proud

username she graduated from bROWN?

username i knOW

username omg, my sister had a class with her and she was soooo sweet

username what did she study?

username marine biology, i think

username we love women in stem

pierregasly congrats! we’re all proud of you, y/n

yninsta thank you, pear

yninsta is kika proud too tho?

pierregasly yes… why?

yninsta good

username she looked so good

username u should’ve seen charles, i almost fainted when i spotted him, he looked soooo proud

username you saw him?

username yes, he attended together with pierre i think

arthur_leclerc we finally have someone to finance us when we don’t make it in racing, thank you

charles_lecerlc i’m literally in f1…

yninsta thank you arth! and charles, be kind

username the way she’s so mother

username can you adopt me, pls guys

username yea, me too please

bestie omg girl, you looked so gorgeous !! ahh can’t believe i get to see you more often now !

yninsta i love you so much and i miss you, let’s meet up soon, now that i have more time

lilymhe look at you? pls be my girlfriend, i need someone smart

alex_albon im right here?!

yninsta shhh 🤫

yninsta i’m all here for you, babes

charles_leclerc whut?!

charles_leclerc

Liked by yninsta, username and 368‘527 others

charles_leclerc celebrated her masters with a little karting

View all 51‘638 comments

username excuse, masters?!

username she slays so hard

username srsly, her masters? wow, you go girl

danielricciardo we all thought she’d flunked out with how many races she attended

yninsta thank you dan, thank you so much for you enthusiasm, love you - honestly

charles_leclerc hey, what about me?!

danielricciardo sorry mate

yninsta i won

charles_leclerc i let her win

yninsta no u didn’t

landonorris he so did

mickschumacher we all saw it, y/n. sorry :/

username they all went karting with them and they let her win?! she won in life and karting

leclerc_pascale so proud to have you in our family, y/n

yninsta thank you so much, pascale! forever grateful for your family

username can you believe she’s done her masters? bc i can’t honestly, sooo proud of her

username charles is so lucky- can he fight?

username yea charles, can you fight?

scuderuaferrari he’s actually fighting for the championship right now, so it’ll have to wait

username so that means he can’t fight..?

username time wise and fighting wise

username savage

f1_wag_updates

Liked by username and 3‘378 others

f1_wag_updates charles and y/n seen kissing on her graduation!

she recently graduated with her masters in marine biology. she attended brown for her 5 years of study, but still made time to attend many races of the ferrari golden boy.

she is a very talented and smart women and we are all looking forward to what she will achieve in the future!

we’re all proud of you, @yninsta

View all 838 comments

username we are really proud of you!

username 24 and already did her masters? cant be true, she’s so full of bullshit

username she started studying at 19 tho, so a five year study plus 19 equals 24, no? don’t hate just bc you can’t achieve it

username makes perfect sense to me, she is a smart woman

yninsta oh wow, omg, it was my biggest wish to be featured by one of the wag updates! thank you so much, you don’t how much it means to me

f1_wag_updates we’re really proud of you <3

°°°

taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @biglittlesecret , @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21 , @youkissedareaderinthedark , @mikauraur , @thybulleric , @lpab , @fdl305

[honourablejester]

Apropos of absolutely nothing, can I talk about the Let Me Be Good To You scene from The Great Mouse Detective (1986)?

For the uninitiated, this movie is a Sherlock Holmes adaptation. Ish. In the skirting boards of the Baker Street, while human Holmes and Watson do their thing in Victorian London, a mouse detective named Basil and his recently recruited medical companion Dr Dawson investigate a mystery in Victorian mouse London. Vincent Price stars as Professor Ratigan, the evil Moriarty equivalent, and it’s a hell of a fun time.

And. In the middle of this fun mousey romp through Victorian London, we get the above scene. Basil and Dawson are undercover at a seedy dockside bar trying to find a peg-legged villain, and in the midst of an almost-bar-brawl, the piano player hastily starts a down-turned tune to draw attention, and Ms Kitty enters the stage.

And. Okay. I’m going to put aside for one second that this is happening in an animated kids movie. Put that to one side. I just want to look at the song.

Because this song is so fun, and so kind, and so empathetic, and so fucking cynical. It’s so targeted, and so tailored, and so clearly designed for purpose.

Because she doesn’t just offer sex, although that is pretty clearly and cheekily implied (“I’ll take off all my blues”, from a woman in an entirely blue outfit) later on. She offers sympathy. Empathy. Comfort. Understanding. She starts out ‘dearest friends, dear gentlemen’ to a bar teetering on the verge of full on violence and mayhem. And she’s listened to. Because she follows up with implicit understanding. “Life down here’s been hard for you, life has made you strong”. You tough guys, you’re feeling all alone. You rough guys, the best of you sailors and bums, all are my chums. She’s talking to them, to their understanding of themselves, and she’s promising that she understands them too, that she’s not put off by them, that she will comfort them. “You won’t be misunderstood, let me be good to you!”. It’s not a, if you’re good I’ll let you in, it’s a, I know who you are and I’ll be there regardless.

She is selling such a tailored fantasy. Talking directly to her audience, to their inner understanding of themselves. In the middle of an incredibly seedy dockside bar that’s two seconds away from exploding into violence, she comes on stage and offers not just sex, but sympathy, understanding and comfort. Softer things. Gentler things. And, the thing is, she’s bang on. She’s read them completely right. They listen to her. The violence tones down. Men take their hats off for her. When it revs up again, when it turns violent again two seconds after she’s done, she’s still perfectly safe and perfectly triumphant up there. She sold such a perfect fantasy. She was bang on.

And it’s so, so, so fucking cynical, because she was sent on stage, in the context of a bar that is drugging people even as she sings to sell them to a criminal overlord, to do exactly that. She was so clearly sent on to control the crowd, to bring the mood back from immediate violence, to tone it down, and then to rev it back up in a happier direction. Ms Kitty is offering the perfect fantasy, talking to the gentleman in need of comfort in her customers, while the bar staff are moping up unfortunate ends behind her. And the second she’s finished, the violence comes flooding right back in. Her song is the perfect fantasy. And this is the seedy reality.

And I just. I want to bring it back. This is happening in the middle of an animated kids movie. This perfect window onto sex work, entertainment, night life, crowd control, violence, machismo, the softer fantasies that even the roughest people might have, and the way those fantasies are then promptly used to lull and control them. This is a children’s movie.

It’s not just that there’s a stripper mouse in a kid’s movie. It’s that her song was also a fantastic and vicious look at how shelter and desire and empathy can be cynically used to control people in the context of sex and entertainment, and how in context of the darker sides of life, the gentlest, kindest song can be the coldest and most cynical of gambits.

Like. They didn’t have to go that hard, you know?

Anyway. Carry on.