Desie



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  1. Public Bookmark 48

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    Lord Peter Wimsey has been searching for his Sentinel since his Guide gifts awoke in the middle of a bloody battlefield during the Great War. However, even his considerable sleuthing skills aren't enough to find them, and after over a decade of searching, he's close to giving up when he is sent to investigate possible Sentinel/Guide corruption in London's bohemian quarter.

    Language:
    English
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    Chapters:
    7/7
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    23 Jul 2020

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    Yuuri wakes up in Victor’s room the night after the Sochi Grand Prix Final banquet. Did they sleep together? No. Instead, last night, Drunk Yuuri taunted Victor that he hadn’t earned the right to get in his pants…and spelled out exactly what Victor would have to do to get there.

    Now, Victor intends to do everything on that list…

    ~

    “The conversation,” Victor says, “went something like this. You said I wasn’t getting in your pants that easily.”

    Victor says this in a normal tone of voice. Anyone could hear him. Yuuri looks around, but if anyone is paying attention, they’re pretending not to.

    “Naturally, I asked what I would have to do to get in your pants.”

    “Ah.” Yuuri blushes. “How embarrassing. What do you mean, naturally? Why would you ask that?”

    Victor tilts his head. “Because I want to get in your pants. I thought that much was obvious by now.”

    ~

    Note: Yuuri is not in a great headspace post Sochi Grand Final, and this fic necesssarily touches on mental health issues so please check the tags.
    Language:
    English
    Words:
    114,319
    Chapters:
    8/8
    Comments:
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    21 Jul 2020

  3. Public Bookmark 32

    Words:
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    21 Jul 2020

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
    Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. - Hamlet, Act 1 Scene 1

    In which John is (reluctantly) a wizard, Mycroft is (apparently) omniscient, and Sherlock is (surprisingly) oblivious.

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    17 Jul 2020

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    It isn’t until he realises he can’t find the keys for his fucking truck anywhere and that there’s mail on the table addressed to Mr M Evans that Noah called him ‘Evans’, too. He fumbles inside the wallet that he’d managed to locate and pulls out a New Mexico licence with his picture on it; he doesn’t have a black eye and a split lip in this one, his hair’s tamed and he doesn’t look like he’s gone three days without showering. His date of birth is stamped, clear and correct, but then where his name should read ‘Michael Guerin’, it reads “Michael Evans’ and the address registered on the license is that of Max and Isobel’s childhood home. Noah had also said ‘your mom’s’. Not ‘Mrs Evans’.

     

     

     

     

    It feels like a bucket of ice water’s dumped over his head as he finally accepts that something is very, very wrong.

     

    (aka, the fic spawned from a tumblr prompt about Michael waking up in a parallel reality.)

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    Language:
    English
    Words:
    57,497
    Chapters:
    10/10
    Collections:
    1
    Comments:
    479
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    601
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    13 Jul 2020