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blakebyun.bsky.social
Blake
@blakebyun.bsky.social
220 followers 83 following 18 posts
Albert James Moriarty kinnie - INTP 4w3
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blakebyun.bsky.social
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February 8, 2025 at 3:16 PM
Reposted by Blake
ryuusea.bsky.social
happy sherly day 🎂 (2/2)
all according to cake-kaku…. #sherliam #yuumori #fanart
Sherly and Liam wiping cake off their faces. Sherly: it doesn't feel like I’m losing if I get to see you covered in cake. Liam smiles and wiping cake off his face: Fufu Sherly stares at him in trepidation: ….. behind him, final panel is chibis of Mycroft, Albert, Louis, Miss Hudson, Watson coming to attack with giant cake Arrow + Notes on chibis: Pointing to gun in Mycroft’s hand: New test(?) toy Pointing Louis, looking angry: Sees cake on Liam’s clothes and thinking about laundry later
January 5, 2025 at 9:10 PM
Reposted by Blake
ryuusea.bsky.social
#sherliam (technically sherly x mr. scott, laughs) #drabble #WIP — flirting with a math teacher
A pleased smile pulls at the corner of his lips, easily mistaken for pleasantries by anybody else. But he isn’t just anyone else. Sherlock Holmes recognizes the playful invitation to a game, and lets himself be tugged in. “To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit by the renowned consulting detective, and London’s savior, the Mr. Sherlock Holmes?” “You teach maths, correct, Mr… Scott, was it? Do you like maths puns?” With that, Sherlock crowds into him, so close that his chest is but a mere breath’s take away from the teacher’s back. Mr. Scott isn’t daunted by the bold move, does not allow himself to be pushed up against the blackboard. He indulges Sherlock with a curious lilt of his head. “Indeed. As for the latter, perhaps. Impress me, Mr. Holmes.” A wide and eager grin, egged on by his words, splits across his face. Sherlock picks up a piece of chalk and leans around Mr. Scott, to messily scratch in the answer to the arithmetic problem on the board just beside his head. Sherlock doesn’t miss the way the other turns his face in towards his exposed neck, nor the surreptitious inhale. It sends shivers along Sherlock’s spine, not unlike the first time he had been allured by scarlet eyes admiring sequences in a spiraling staircase. Sherlock sets down the chalk, leans back just enough so he can drink in the look the maths teacher is giving him from beneath hooded lashes, also dyed dark – that kid really is thorough with his disguises – it’s a patient, expectant look. One you don’t want to disappoint. “Ya know, I feel like we could manage some integration later.” “Oh? What kind of integration?” He licks his lips, an already eager grin turning wolfish. “The type with undefined limits.” A shift as he considers Sherlock’s words, spectacles catching the light through the windows. For but a split second, Sherlock cannot see those eyes through the reflected sunlight on the lenses. Then, a soft laugh puffs out from between lightly pursed lips. Mr. Scott raises a hand to his mouth, chuckles again. It reminds Sherlock of mornings over shared coffee, filled with amused, yet most importantly of all, approving smiles. Sherlock feels his heart surge, chest swelling with warmth – it’s been far too long, he’s missed seeing and hearing that – The maths teacher fully turns around then. It’s his turn to push him back, to invade Sherlock’s space. “I’m afraid that’s well above my pay grade, Mr. Holmes, I am but a teacher to primary school children…” His eyes narrow, sharpening, darting towards the classroom doorway in warning. Ah. But, shielded from view by Sherlock, he lifts a hand to run a teasing forefinger down Sherlock’s shirt placket, down until he’s caught at the intersection of his closed jacket, then withdraws, “But we can continue this conversation in my office.”
January 12, 2025 at 11:55 PM