It's Not A Trick

Sherlock Holmes. Consulting detective. Not got time to chat - shall we walk? [Independent Sherlock RP blog, of BBC Sherlock.] Written by Dictionary.

[ofmcnstrosities-deactivated2021]

@itsnotatrick

        “well, this is certainly new.”

[itsnotatrick]

                 “New, definitely, yes.       There’s some allowance for one’s natural double, but--”

[itsnotatrick]

@gloriouslydecadent

He only glances at her, only glances, but he has to look back a second later and stare. Staring, by Sherlock’s standards, is quite a bit more subtle than it might be for most people, but nonetheless he examines her.

Well-dressed, confident, the head of some important organization, works in- no, no, owns a library, uses that shampoo with the-

Looking at her is uncomfortable. Different. Uncomfortable. 

        “Excuse me,                  could you tell me the way to O’Connell Street?”

[itsnotatrick]

Starter?

[bbcmycroftarchive-deactivated20]

SHERLOCK:

         “Do I seem worried to you, Mycroft?”

This is said with a derisive snort, but perhaps, inwardly, there’s the barest flicker of honest concern. He’d never admit to it, of course.

“Oh, extremely.” 

     Mycroft, though he worked himself far too much, rarely      pushed himself to the point of exhaustion like he was      currently doing. He knew his limits and hardly surpassed      them, knowing that efficient work would be hard to come      by if he didn’t get enough sleep.

[itsnotatrick]

      “Then you truly ARE losing your touch.                Those seven years between us must be weighing on you.”

He does hope the jibe is suitably piercing - he wants Mycroft to SHUT UP, but saying so would be far too revealing. 

          “One must marvel in your hypocrisy.”

[bbcmycroftarchive-deactivated20]

itsnotatrick replied to your post:“You haven’t slept for days, have you?”

“Impressive, really. I didn’t know ANYTHING could add more lines to that face of yours, but a few lost hours of sleep and here you are.”

     “It’s wonderful to see you’re worried about my health.”

[itsnotatrick]

         “Do I seem worried to you, Mycroft?”

This is said with a derisive snort, but perhaps, inwardly, there’s the barest flicker of honest concern. He’d never admit to it, of course.

[mystarsforanempire]

I have untracked EVERYTHING.

This is from all my blogs. Basically, unless it’s a plot we’ve discussed on Skype and planned out, you can assume I’ve dropped it. This applies to all my blogs.

I’m also unfollowing people en masse. If we’ve never talked or plotted, for the most part that means you’re gone.

Just so you know!

[sociophobist-blog]

could you guys reblog this if you don’t mind rping with nonbinary muses that use they/them pronouns? i know some people feel uncomfortable about it. but i’d like to follow some people that don’t mind!!

[uglysex]

*sigh* why am i better than everyone.

[pluranimous]

don’t roleplay real people.

don’t ship real people.

don’t talk about real people as if they’re characters in a book or show.

no i don’t care if they’re famous.

someone i know just stumbled onto a rp blog about THEMSELF and it disturbed them greatly DON’T RP REAL PEOPLE WHY WOULD YOU THINK THATS OKAY

[jimmriarty]

x

[itsnotatrick]

[itsnotatrick]

I’m going on hiatus from all my RP blogs for a bit, starting now. This means all of them (list of RP blogs is here). There are a few reasons I’m taking a break, but to be honest I’m just not satisfied being around at the moment, and most of the time I’m getting annoyed and really tired, so I think it’s a good idea for me to get out, to be honest. 

When I come back, I’m going to focus on my OCs and on plot roleplay. I’m going to drop a lot of icon threads, drop people who are less plot and para oriented, and focus on writing with partners who are confident matching novella and para threads. The fact is that I always roleplayed to develop my skills, and at the moment I’m not doing that with an icon thread about what to get Hermione for her birthday.

I’ll be able to be found on my writing blog and my lit blog, as well as my personal. Will RP on Kik and Skype with my friends.

HIATUS IS FROM SUNDAY 16TH AUGUST ONWARDS. END DATE UNDECIDED.

[itsnotatrick]

Me: Asexual does not mean aromantic.

Me: Aromantic does not mean asexual.

That One Person: But you're asexual and aromantic, so doesn't that make your point invalid?

Me: Let me explain it in a different way. The length of a rectangle is sexual attraction and the width is romantic attraction. Obviously, the length and width of a rectangle don't always match. The same goes for romantic and sexual attraction. Yes, squares exist where they do match up, but not all rectangles are squares.

Me: So in conclusion; not all asexuals are also aromantic, and vice versa, in the same way that not all rectangles are squares. This does not make the squarecany less of a rectangle though.

[itsnotatrick]

“A strip club?”

He looked up with surprise, one leg still out of his trousers. Why in the world were they going to a strip club at that hour? Or more importantly, did this mean Holmes would give him his wallet back? For tipping purposes, of course.

Well, there was only one way to find out–

He dressed with more alacrity, looping his belt and pulling off his jumper in favour of a plaid shirt and dark jacket instead.

In record time, his hair was combed, his cologne was splashed on, and his shoes were properly laced.

Opening the door, he looked less bleary and nearly fresh as he adjusted his father’s gold watch on his wrist.

“Lead on, Sherlock,” he said with more cheer than he had displayed moments before.

                        “Oh, really, John?” 

Sherlock speaks dryly when the other man comes out of his bedroom with ridiculous speed, STINKING of cologne (in the opinion of Sherlock’s sensitive nose, at least.) He rolls his eyes a second time and pulls on his coat briskly, making his way out of Baker Street with his wallet in his own pocket and John’s in another. 

       “I’ll never understand your desperate want to gawk at women. 

       They are everywhere, you know.                                     Often in states of undress.”

Most women hardly interest him in the least, and indeed, nor do the majority of men. He’s barely interested in John’s company, half the time, though admittedly the idea of sex with John is more laughable than it is with anyone else. 

                   “You have been before, then.”

[itsnotatrick]

john watson, in a crowd: where are sherlock and mycroft?

john watson, in a crowd: i'll be damned if i have breakfast with their parents without them

john watson, cupping his hands into a megaphone: THE BROTHERS HOLMES HAVE A VERY LOVING FRATERNAL RELATIONSHIP A-

mycroft, coming out of nowhere: dOCTOr watson how dARE you-

sherlock, appearing from behind john: joHN don't sAY things like that when you know it's not even true-

john: ah yes. there they are.

[itsnotatrick]

              ‘ Not even a “hello”, I see. ’

Regardless,    Mycroft  takes  a  stroll  around  the room  with  rather a questionable familiarity before finally taking a seat in the sofa. Even while seating, his irritation of the cluttered place is noticeable – nor does he try to hide it.  

               ‘ But not as ––- unique as yours. ’

         “Well, I don’t greet the burglars with hello, either,                                         and they dress far better than you do.”

He’s never cared for being neat - not like Mycroft is, with everything in its place; Sherlock privately thought Mycroft’s irritation in childhood was over the fact that Mycroft couldn’t find anything under Sherlock’s system of organization, and he imagines that may well still be the case.

                              “Why are you here?”

[itsnotatrick]

“You’re still standing over me,” he grumbled, pushing aside his warm blanket with much regret.

He was not certain if Holmes was joking when he said that he could arrange for a fire. Even awake, Watson sometimes had a difficult time reading the man.

“And don’t you dare set the sitting room on fire while I dress. Get out and I will be ready in a minute.”

                “Oh, for God’s sake,” 

Sherlock says, rolling his eyes - Sherlock is a vain man, it can easily be said, but he’s never quite comprehended the fear of dressing in front of other people, held by anyone in his life. He all but stomps out of John’s room, throwing the door closed, and then calls through the door, 

         “We’re going to a strip club!                             You’ve been to one before, yes? 

        Most men like you have.”

[itsnotatrick]

Bloodshot eyes narrowed and there it was, that infamous temper of his near boiling to the surface. Looking away, he clenched his fist and exhaled through his nose.

It is not polite to give your flatmate unsightly bruises at three in the morning, he reminded himself. His therapist would not approve and he was due to see her later that day.

Swearing under his breath, he did at least sit up, though his humour was little improved.

“What is it? Has the sitting room caught on fire?” That was the only acceptable reason to rouse him after two hours’ rest.

Sherlock arches an eyebrow, regarding the other man for a few moments, as if gauging how irritated John exactly is with him, and then says, 

            “It can be, if you like.         Seems a somewhat eccentric request.”

Sherlock is already quite dressed, shirt buttoned properly, trousers all on; even as he speaks he picks through John’s chest of drawers for jeans and a shirt for John to get dressed in. 

                      “You're still in bed.”