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@theconsultingprofessor-blog
So iām not as fancy as all you little shits, with your cover pics or whatever but i donāt give a good goddamn, because a follow forever is a follow forever, and damn it, hereās mine.
http://academicofcrime.tumblr.com/
http://fatherholmes.tumblr.com/
...
OMG I'M ON A FOLLOW FOREVER LIST!!!! iearukjg;kergfoqlekarjs,g
I've never been on a follow forever list... HOLY CRAP!!! I'm not worthy!! >< omg.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Out Of Lecture ------
So sorry I haven't been on here much today guys! Been a busy day and got a little caught up on my other blog. I promise to be fully active tomorrow and get all my replies out ^.^ If anyone would like to plot, then drop me a line or tag me in something.
<3 you all~! -mun
"Itās rude to show up to a wedding that you werenāt invited to, James."
"But you wanted to dance."Ā
Put one in my ask box! [TRAPPED/KIDNAPPED VERSION]
"Whatās going on?"
"Hello, my pet."
"Iām afraid youāre a bit ātied upā."
"Iām sorry, I couldnāt hear you."
"There, that should keep you quiet."
"No one will find us here."
"Youāll be mine forever."
"Donāt bother to struggleā¦"
"How are we getting out of this?"
"You got a plan?"
"Now would be a good time to plan our escape!"
"The ropes are too tight!"
"The doorās locked!"
"Stop screaming or Iāll shut you up!"
"Thereās no way out!"
I'm bored TORTURE MY MUSE
Send me nightmares
Send meĀ hallucinations
Tell me how you will kill my character
Tell me how you will save my character
DO IT Ā
Me when someone says theyāre not happy that Moriartyās back:
Me when someone says that Moriarty is not really back:
Me when someone asks if I can tone down the Moriarty love:
Me when someone tells me they were disappointed in the ending of HLV:
Me when someone tells me they donāt like Moriarty as a character:
This is the truest shit ever.
Your problem is no one hates you more than you do
Crowley
(via assbutt-salad)
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Out of Lecture ---------
Alright, well I finished my drafts. Going to head over the the monster pile on my main account. *dies*
If anyone would like to RP let me know or tag me in something or whatever.
Be back later~ -Mun
|| The empty house || James & Evanna ||
Evanna sighed while zapping through the channels on the TV. It was late in the afternoon and she was still in her pajamas procrastinating the work that she actually had to do. Getting annoyed with the lack of interesting programs on the TV, she stood up and went to make some tea. Her messy uncombed hair kept falling into her eyes and she kept swiping it away. In the kitchen she put the kettle on and prepared the tea. It was a rainy grey day and she sipped from her cup while staring out of the window. Evanna really did not feel like working so she went wandering through the empty house finding distraction. But the house was not as empty as she thought.
[text] I see you little girl. You look so bored. Why don't we play a littl game, hm? -JM
The criminal's thumb brushed over the screen of his mobile, dark eyes watching the screen. Mycroft Holmes wasn't the only one who could hack into CCTV cameras.
|| Stained Papyrus || Evanna & James ||
Evanna strolled through the massive library with a pile of books in her arms. It was busier as expected. She had trouble finding a place where she could work on her dissertation. Her arms were getting tired and sore after passing another reading table with all the seats occupied. After going around several corners she found herself in a dark quiet corner of the library where some desks were placed conveniently between huge shelves filled with books.Ā
A scrawny and pale looking man occupied one the tables with a stack of books placed on it. The man gave her an eerie vibe, but since she desperately needed a place to sit and work she shook off the feeling. Since all the desks in this part of the library were occupied too she continued her search.
Ā Evanna then felt a hard bump against her side and fell to the floor from the impact. The books scattered around her. She never realized that the men had stood up and walked her way.
Ā āI am so sorry, I wasnāt paying any attention.ā she exclaimed before realizing her white blouse was covered in black ink, matching the hands of the stranger.Ā Ā
What an impertinence. James bit back a growl, looking down at himself. His white dress shirt had ink all down the front of it, had his sleeves not been rolled to his elbows he was sure they'd be stained too.Ā
"Clearly." The young mathematician rolled his eyes, stepping over the woman to move towards the bin where he was headed to begin with. Tossing the rubbish away, Jim continued on to the restroom where he'd work on cleaning himself up... or at least attempting to do so.
He growled, scrubbing his hands thoroughly, though the black stain only faded. Needless to say, his suit was utterly ruined. The marks on his skin would be there for a week!Ā
| Jim and Mycroft | theconsultingprofessor & notthebritishgov |
It had happened once again. It shouldnāt have. Mycroft was aware of this but it didnāt stop this from happening like the horrible bad habit it was. There was too much friction; pushing and pulling. Trying to one up the other or just bring them down into the darkness. The same side of two different coins. One spinning a web like a spider, and the other tugging at the strings of little puppets. They had separated after they had finished, both taking opposite sides of the bed, silent reigning for the moment. Only for the moment, Mycroft was quite aware of this after the first few times.Ā The silence never was silent though. There was always quiet implications that neither of them really cared about. The bickering would start up within minutes and that was fine. That was normal for them.Ā
Mycroft eased onto his back, covers strewn about in a mess, part of them on the floor to which he gave a quiet grunt, pushing himself up on his elbows before sitting up fully. What a mess. Not surprising, but still a mess all the same. He couldnāt really say where their clothes had gone; scattered about in places that Mycroft would later wonder how it got there, or what they had been doing when one of them carelessly tossed a sock in a general direction and it got caught on a painting on a far wall.Ā
His eyes scanned the room, locating the various articles of clothing to remember where they were as he stood, silently moving through the room and correcting a few things that had been tossed out of place. One day Jim was going to break something and Mycroft wouldnāt be pleased. He found his slacks eventually, picking them from off the floor and slipping the on while he gathered the rest of his discarded suit. It would need to be cleaned as well. āYou need to learn to aim better. Itās becoming an inconvenience,ā Mycroft deadpanned, as grabbed at that stray sock off the picture on the wall, correcting it back to the right angle.
James never really cared much about anything after sex; enjoyed the post coitus high far more than he should, perhaps. It shut his ever spinning mind off, if only for a brief few moments before the constant chatter rose up yet again. Mycroft Holmes seemed surprisingly good at shutting it all off though, much to Moriarty's surprise. Perhaps that was why he continued these types of...Ā meetings.
No, that was utter bullshit.
He picked on brother dearest because it was fun. The elder Holmes was clever, far more clever than Sherlock it seemed. While the consulting criminal had every intention of finishing his little game with the detective, the British Government proved to be an excellent source of entertainment as well.
The blankets were draped haphazardly across the bed; Moriarty not even bothering to pull them up to cover himself, opting to remain sprawled and uncovered across half of Mycroft's bed. He felt the bed dip as the official sat up and stood from the bed.Ā
"What makes you think my aim is bed?" James smirked, dark eyes watching Mycroft with a teasing glint in them. "From here, it seems I've hit each of my marks. Though if you'd like another demonstration..."
Shifting, he stretched, arms folding behind his head as a make shift pillow. The Irishman couldn't help but wince at the movements, an eyebrow raising after a moment. "What exactly were you doing back there?" He looked down at himself finally, noting his skin dotted with red marks. They'd fade within the hour, he was sure but his back and his neck throbbed.Ā
IT Trouble [Closed AU] {@ theconsultingprofessor}
He truthfully hated computers, with ever inch of his being. They were broken more than they worked and they caused him more trouble than he cared to think about. At that moment heād become so frustrated with his it was lucky not to have a whole clear through the screen.
He leaned back in his chair, his fingers rubbing his temples in an attempt to calm himself. Heād called IT. He needed them, because frankly he was going to commit circuit murder of someone didnāt just make the stupid thing turn back on. He heard someone approaching the door and tilted his head up to look.
"Thanks god someone with a brainās arrived." He mutteredĀ
It was far too easy to gain access to Sherlock's little friends. The Pathologist had been simple, desperate. John was easy enough to nap on one of his pub outings. The IT route had worked so well at Barts, why not at the Yard? He'd done his research, the DI and the little mouse in the morgue weren't the type, nor did they have the friendship, to braid each other's hair and talk about boys.Ā
So, simple.
Ensuring the Detective Inspector would need to phone tech was so mind numbingly simple. Took a willing janitor the night before to simply... loosen a chord. Then all Jim had to do was wait.
"Hi, yeah sorry." He smiled softly, rubbing his arm. "Computer trouble?" Jim shuffled into Lestrade's office. "What's the trouble?"
"Stop looking at me like that." Jim didnāt need to look up to know Sherlock had another one of those dopy smiles on his face. The criminal wasnāt foolish, there were reasons behind everything he did. This was no different.
"Like what?" Sherlock asked, turning back away as he continued to make tea for himself. James knew the flat well enough to see to himself in terms of food and drink.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about." Jim muttered, finally looking up from his phone. "Earl Gray." He stood, phone slipping back into his pocket as he moved to the kitchen.
Enola still wasnāt sure about this whole university thing. Being surrounded by such boring students was already annoying her. And sheād only been there for a few hours. Her first class had almost driven her crazy with how dull it was, and how dull the other students were.
"Professor Moriarty? You are one of my math professor I believe. I need some help, I donāt quite know what Iām doing in university. Iāve heard you might understand my problem," she stated nervously. "Iām Enola, by the way. Enola Holmes. Will you help me? Or am I disturbing you?" she asked glancing down at the ground.
Dark eyes rolled, not another one. The little lost sheep look was really getting quite annoying. They all herded a long with those wide dull eyes, and mouth's gaping at everything. He got several of these a day -- another annoyance of teaching an entry level math course.
He hated that he had to, his advanced classes were so much more interesting. Student's actually understood things, knew how to study, and most importantly weren't stupid.
"Miss Holmes," James' tone was cold, eyes staring narrowly at her. "I am a math professor. It is my job to educate you on the simple principles your high school teacher should have, and while I find this a great impertinence, someone has to -- as the dean keeps informing me." Really, advanced calculus was far more interesting. "It is not, however, my job to hold your hand and tell you everything will be alright. If you require a cheer team, perhaps you should consider moving back home."
He turned to shut the door before a second thought crossed his mind. "If you need a tutor there's a list on the bulletin board of MA students who are eligible to provide assistance for finite mathematics."
Jim, donāt you dare come near me! Put. The. Weapon. Down!
"Why!? Are you scared? ISNāT THAT THE POINT!? To scare people?! To give you power? Protection?" James waved the gun around. "Itās suppose to protect people. YOU were supposed to protect people!"
Moriarty got his coat and regardless of the threat that Sebastion got, the sniper was quite happy he wasnāt dead yet and that he had some time before he needed to deal with this.
Unfortunately the very changeable man changed his mind. He told Seb to get his gun and come with him.
"Wow! Wait what? Now?" The sniper felt panic arise in his chest. He blinked his eyes fast and lightly touched his cheek where a bruise was forming.Ā "We canāt just go and do that now.. We need preparation, we need planning, we needā¦" However, one look in the eyes of his boss said enough; this was not open for discussion. "Fuck.." he sighed.
His legs were heavy when he very slowly and cautiously closed the distance between James and himself. The Irishman turned around and they both headed to their destination.
"All of which we had when you DIDN'T DO YOUR JOB!" He cleared his throat, straightening his suit jacket and running a hand through his hair. "We finish this tonight. YOU will finish this tonight."Ā
James turned on his toes, leaving the flat to wait in the car. He was fuming, absolutely livid. He expected this from idiots. He expected this from those disposable buffoons... but Sebastian? The one loyal soldier he had, felt some... need to disobey orders.
He'd put a stop to that once and for all.
The driver knew where they were going, the moment Moran's door shut the car was off. Jim didn't say anything for a long time, hard eyes fixed at the seat in front of him. It wasn't until they were two blocks from their destination that Moriarty spoke. "You will do everything I say." His voice was cold and hard, void of anything save his demanding words. "You will obey or thereĀ will be repercussions."
Sebastian knew exactly what he meant: the sniper had been involved in multitudes of them: slow anguished killings. Despite the sniper's usefulness or any fondness he held for the man, he would not tolerate a soldier who wouldn't follow orders. Sebastian had been given more than anyone else had by having a second chance.
Dark eyes slowly turned a sharp emotionless stare at the other. "I will not hesitate to kill you myself, Moran. You've forgotten your place; it's time you're reminded of it." Moriarty didn't wait for a response, sliding gracefully out of the car and moving into the tall complex of condominiums.Ā
This was ending tonight.
|| Hiding My Heart || Sherlock & Jim ||
"Oh, for godās sake, James," Sherlock said, so thoroughly exasperated with the man before him. This was always what happened; theyād get snippy when one or the other was doing something slightly different, and then it was all come back to veiled insults.
Shaking his head, Sherlock pulled James back closer to him, lips hovering by his ear. āBut I can make you purr like one,ā he husked out, taking time to press his lips to the sensitive skin just behind his ear, before pulling away. āAs if my choice of clothing matters when it inevitably ends up on the floor.ā
Hips arching into the light touch, Sherlock growled gently, his need for the man growing so quickly. āTell me what is going to happen thenā¦ my king.ā He added the last part on for emphasis, and he knew that it would get James to play fair - or at least to stop the teasing long enough for real directions to be made.
The exasperated exclamation from the detective had James grinning like the devil. It was so easy to push Sherlock's buttons. Even when the man tried to hide his frustration, it was written across his face -- he had very telling eyes. It was actually rather cute.
"Mmm." James hummed, head rolling from side to side as his dark eyes drank in the sight of the other's form from such a close distance. "Could at least make the wrapping paper look nice though, couldn't you?"
Slender fingers brushed across the arching hips again, thumb dragging and intentional line down what he could feel inside Sherlock's trousers. "Ohhh~!" James grinned delightedly at the little nickname. "Well, I think the first thing that's going to happen is rather obvious." His brown eyes shifted down, head nodded towards the growing tent. "After that~ Well, that's going to be up to you, pet."
Unfortunate Roommates |Closed AU|
To be 20 and already going for his PhD - some would be surprised to see Sherlock strive so far already, but most just brushed it off. So what, he was another genius, his family would say. They all were, after all.
But for this course, Sherlock decided to move into the dorms at the university he was attending. Something about needing space from the family, as well as needing somewhere closer to the labs on campus. His parents had shrugged and agreed, setting him up to be placed in a single dorm, so that no one would be interrupted or upset when he came and went as he pleased.
But as Sherlock Holmes began to walk down the corridor to his dorm, he stopped dead in his tracks as he saw a slightly smaller youth - maybe a year or two older than himself - moving boxes into the room that was supposed to be his and his alone.
"What do you think youāre doing moving into my dorm room?"
Ā When people spoke of genius, the full meaning of the word was lost on them. James had achieved his Bachelors degree as a young teenager in Ireland, getting his first Master's degree two years later. Now he was twenty one and was getting his second PhD in Astronomy. He had completed his first in Mathematics and was teaching part time in the field.Ā
This unfortunately meant he had to work on a publication. It would be easy enough, writing a silly little book would be nothing. But the classes they were having him teach!!Ā He was teaching two introductory math, and one advanced class.
He wasn't looking forward to the semester.
At least he had his own room. No more dealing with ordinary boring people, who couldn't seem to rub two brain cells together. With a grunt, he picked up his last box and moved into his room. Moving itself was not something James enjoyed, the unpacking and organizing though, he secretly loved.
The Irish student turned, eyebrows raised as dark eyes fell upon the taller form of another student. "Excuse me?" Arms folded loosely across his chest. "I'm afraid you're mistaken. This is my room." He nodded towards the paper he had brought with him. It had his name and room assignment on it.
"There's an information desk down the hall for those too stupid to remember their number." Jim turned around, going back to his unpacking. He had thought this was the PhD housing, didn't that suggest some level of intelligence? Apparently not.
