Friending Meme

[lustmordred.livejournal.com]

We've never done one of these before and it just occurred to me the other day that maybe we should and it would be fun. So the purpose of this is to meet people with the same or similar interests. In this case, hopefully Sherlock is one of those :D

Talk, share things, friend people's journals and begin to stalk them... Whatever.

Here is a box with template for your convenience. Copy the text and fill it out, or make up your own:

<b>Name:</b> <b>Where are you from/at?:</b> <b>Favorite Sherlock episode:</b> <b>Favorite Sherlock quote:</b> <b>Favorite Sherlock characters:</b> <b>Favorite ships:</b> <b>Other fandoms:</b> <b>Other characters you love:</b> <b>Other pairings you ship:</b> <b>Non fandom related interests:</b> <b>Friends or just introducing yourself?</b> <b>Anything else:</b>

Comments

[siehn.livejournal.com]

It is excellent, I love it! Also the idea of John-as-Botan just. There is no end to the amusement there.

OHMYGAWD SHERLOCK WITH PUU. /dead

Yes, I shall get on the Jim/Molly double-genderswapped(THAT IDEA FASCINATES ME) as soon as I get some things done around the house. x3 I've been procrastinating all morning. Ahahah.

[the-improbable1.livejournal.com]

THE LOOK ON HIS PRECIOUS LITTLE FACE WITH A PUU ON HIS HEAD OMG EXCUSE ME AS I DIE LAUGHING

I think Molly would be the Yuusuke's girlfriend character whose name escapes me…

---

"Sherlock," Lestrade asked, "what is that?" He indicated the…thing perched on Sherlock's head.

Sherlock scowled. "I'm not sure."

The thing, which resembled a blue sack of flour with a puff on its head, hopped up and down and said, "Puu!"

Jim snickered.

Irene concealed a giggle.

Sherlock's scowl grew fiercer. "Whatever it is," he said, teeth gritted, "I do not want to have to put up with it. It is exceedingly distracting."

"Puu!" said the creature, its eyes squinted shut with happiness. "Puu~!"

"I think it likes you, Sherlock," said Irene.

Sherlock glared. "I do not care. It is leaving. Now." He attempted to remove the creature from his head, but it burst into tears and clung fiercely to his hair. He grimaced.

At this moment, Irene, Jim, and Lestrade all burst out laughing, unable to contain their amusement any longer.

[siehn.livejournal.com]

I hope this passes muster. x3 It is my first time doing Jim/Molly, as well as genderswapped.

--

He tugged the sheet back oh-so-carefully with steady hands, and studied the body laying on the table as closely as he could. It was her, except that it wasn't. This body was entirely unfamiliar to him; he'd never touched it before, never mapped out it's planes, or discovered all of it's secret places. Those hands had never touched him in return, never raked it's nails down his back, or tied him to the bed to tease, and touch, and play. No, it might look like her, and it was a very, very good fake. He sighed, eyes closed in something that felt very much like relief, and pulled the sheet back up over the body. There probably should have been some kind of feelings of remorse for another innocent lost, but maybe he was too far gone for that. Or too selfish.

"Hi honey, I'm home," he heard, the words are a low purr, and he couldn't quite stop the grin that slipped onto his face as he turned towards the door of the morgue.

"Jimmi! Oh, I knew that wasn't you, but--" he cut himself off as she stalked forwards, brushing up against him in her usual deliberately provocative manner, stopping only once she had reached out to pull him in for a kiss. It was everything they were together; desperate, and fierce, and all kinds of possessive. He loved every minute of it because it meant she was still there, still his.

"Surely you didn't think I'd be leaving without you, dear?" She asked, amusement in the arch of an eyebrow as she tangled one hand in the lapel of his lab coat, and leaned back against him.

"I--Uhm, well. I just. I know you're quite...Busy," he stammered out, wincing a little at the way it sounded but really. She was the most dangerous criminal alive; what use did she have for little old him? He was nobody; just someone used to working with dead bodies, and an occasional warm body to have a little fun with in bed.

Jimmi laughed, leaning her head back against his shoulder to look up at him. "Now love. What good is having the world if I don't have my King at my side, hm?" She reached up, and ran a hand down his cheek in what passed as affection for her.

He swallowed thickly, and nodded, not trusting his voice.

She looked satisfied. "Excellent. Come along then, love. We've a city to take, and I should dearly love to burn it down for you," she purred, tugging him along, and twining around him like a cat as her excitement practically radiated off of her.

It was a heady thing, having someone who was willing to burn the world just for you. He smiled, and tugged her closer as they walked. "I should dearly love to watch you do it," he told her, delighted because watching her in her element was almost the best part. There was also the aftermath, and that was always fun.

--
AGAIN. NO ACTUAL IDEA WHAT I AM DOING. I HOPE THIS WAS OKAY.

[the-improbable1.livejournal.com]

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH RIGHT NOW :DDDDDD

MY FACE LOOKS LIKE THIS--> :D

THIS IS PERFECT IN SO MANY WAYS.

COMPLETELY BRILLIANT.

JUST.

BRILLIANT.

OMG.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

[siehn.livejournal.com]

YAY I AM SO GLAD YOU LIKE IT.

I WAS VERY VERY NERVOUS, BUT IT WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE. ♥

[the-improbable1.livejournal.com]

IT'S BRILL. :D

Here, have more Yu Yu Sherlock :D. Mind the crack.

---

"So," Sherlock said ominously, "it has come to this."

Jim—or was it Moriarty, now?—grinned, his sharp teeth glittering in the firelight. "So it has. Shall we begin?"

"Whenever you're ready, Moriarty," Sherlock said, his teeth ground together. "Once, this conflict could have been avoided, but no more."

Irene grinned and held up a red flag. "Ready…set…go!"

Something exploded within the first ten seconds, of course. From a safe distance, watching the contest, Lestrade sighed.

"Of all the things they had to fight over," he complained to no one in particular, "did it have to be a cooking contest?"

"Puu!" said Puu.

[siehn.livejournal.com]

OHGOD. TEA. THERE IS TEA SNORTED EVERYWHERE.

I swear I almost died of laughter.

I love you. Srsly. Just. All the things.

[the-improbable1.livejournal.com]

I MADE SOMEONE SNORT TEA EVERYWHERE *pleased*

A cooking contest was the logical solution…it's what they usually do in anime, yeah? When they need the characters to fight but don't actually want anyone to get hurt?

Wait.

Wait.

The Final Pastry.

In which archenemies Holmes and Moriarty face off in a baking contest…to the death.

/shot/

---

John sighed. "Okay, I'll explain it again, now that you've woken up."

Well, at least we're not floating anymore, Sherlock thought with some haziness. "I can't be dead," he said firmly.

"That's about right, actually," said John. "You weren't supposed to die for several more decades. There's loads of stuff you haven't done yet." He consulted a clipboard which had seemed to appear out of thin air. (Nonsense, Sherlock insisted to himself. Clipboards can't appear out of thin air.) "Says here you're supposed to topple over a waterfall in a few years," John continued cheerfully. "But you don't die then, either. You're supposed to retire to Sussex to keep bees when you're sixty. You're not sixty yet, and you're neither retired nor keeping bees in Sussex, so you're not supposed to be dead yet."

"So," Sherlock said cautiously, "if I'm not dead, and I'm not alive—I'm well aware of the fatality rate of stab wounds, and I wouldn't have survived that—then what am I?"

John smiled brightly. "Fortunately, we've got a precedent for this. It was a decade or so ago; this guy died before he was supposed to, so Koenma decided to make him hunt demons."

Sherlock blinked. He knew his ears were in perfect condition. They couldn't be lying to him, so he had just heard the word "Koenma" (whatever that was) and the phrase "hunt demons". "This is ludicrous," he managed. "Nothing about this makes any kind of logical sense whatsoever."

John's smile turned a bit sympathetic. "Yeah, it confused me at first, too. Come on; we'll get you to Mycroft and he can sort you out."

Sherlock's eyebrows shot up, then he frowned. "No," he said. "I'm not going to Mycroft. I've already had more than enough of the interfering bastard."

"Oh, so you know him, then," said John.

"He's my brother," Sherlock said grimly. "And he died ten years ago."

"Well, that would make a bit of sense," John said thoughtfully. "You look a bit like him—around the nose, and you both have the same disdainful look—yeah, that one. He showed up out of nowhere, like. I'm still not sure how he managed to take over the admin so quickly."

Sherlock snorted. "I am completely unsurprised," he said dryly. "My brother always did like to be in charge."

John grinned. "It'll be a nice chance for you blokes to meet up again, then," he said cheerfully, dragging Sherlock to his feet and tucking his clipboard back into whatever nonspace it'd come from. He waved his free hand and the oar from before appeared. "Up you get. You can either come quietly, and it'll be comfortable, or you can struggle, and I can drape you sideways over the oar and it'll be uncomfortable. Your choice."

Sherlock grimaced. "I'll come quietly," he conceded. "If I'm going to have to meet with my insufferable brother, I might as well be comfortable."