❥      NON - SEXUAL   ACTS   OF   DOMINANCE . 

“Just make yourself look like an /actual/ doctor.” Jim scoffed. “Did Sherlock not tell you anything about disguises? Or did you just not catch?”

“Hey! If you’re going to start insulting me I’m backing out.” She said, more hurt about the part of being an actual doctor. She was a real doctor. She had the doctoral to prove it too. 

“Do as you see fit.” JIm shrugged, picking out one of the coats and putting it on. He rummaged around to find a few pens and gadgets to put into his pockets so his disguise would look more real.

Joan knew he knew she wouldn’t back down. So instead she stripped of her jumper and started to change silently, a little frusterated. 

Potterverse || closed rp

Joan was a bright witch, she thought. She wasn’t the ritchest or the smartest, but she was ambitious and brave and loyal and all the things a Gryfindor needed to be. And she was excelling at her after hour studies in the hospital wing. Not to mention she was the captain of the quidditch team. She wasn’t a perect, but she wasn’t a mess either. 

She held her books tightly to her chest as the crisp autum air nipped at her nose. It was september, but fall had come in full force this year. Her last year. 

The blonde spotted Perfect James across from her in the courtyard. Perfect James is what she called him in her head. He was just James. She jogged across the clearing towards him, pulling out a loose piece of partchment from her bag. “Hello. Sarah told Cameron to tell Colby to tell Henry to tell Susan to ask me to give this to you. It’s from Sarah. I think she fancies you, but between you and me she quite fancies everyone who isn’t revolting.” She said, stadning at an astounding five feet and two inches tall. She would have seemed meek if it wasn’t for the fact that her soft face held strong power behind it. 

@bondsgotnothingonme

James was, if truth be told, the epitome of a ‘glow up’. He’d always been smart of course, but until fifth year he’s always been a tag along - best friends with Slytherin Keaton, who’d easily been the most popular kid in school, had led to James being overshadowed.

It wasn’t until Keaton had been transferred to Beauxbatons that James really started to shine through; that same kindness and easy brilliance that let him excell in classes was there, along with a new found attractiveness after puberty and an optimistic attitude (along with being the Quiditch commentator AND head boy, ex-prefect) had rather thrust him into school popularity all on his own. Not that he really cared; it was nice to know everyone, to be liked and talked too and able to just help.

He was in the middle of helping some first years find their way around - aided by a diagram drawn in the air in sparkly pink - when Joan ran over, giving her a smile and taking the letter as he waved the kids off to their new class.

“Gryffindor Sarah in our year? Pretty girl with the big, round glasses?” He asked even as he opened the note, smile stuck on his face the whole time.

Joan nodded, a little hestiently. Truth be told, she didn’t like Sarah that much. In fact, Sarah was the reason some people didn’t like Joan. Last year she started  a rumor that Joan’s father couldn’t really have such an interesting job as being an auror because he had married a muggle. She had told people the only reason Joan had her spot on the team was because people felt sorry she had a muggle as a mum. 

To add more to it, Joan had fancied James quite a bit her third year and she’ll be damned if she let nosy, rumor spreading Sarah have him.

But Joan had also moved on too. She had dated other boys and gone on dates and lived her own life away from her third year crush on James, it was four years ago. She’d be lying if she didn’t think he was still handsome though. 

“In my humble opinon, though you didn’t ask for it, Sarah isn’t right for you. She has fake friends and is just looking for attention. Perfect James would make a wonderul man to have on her arm for her final year at Hogwarts. I think you deserve someone less hateful and more genuine.” 

Just Drinks || closed rp

joanwatsonwearsjumpers:

Greg gave a quick, confused look before shrugging a shoulder in agreement. Having drinks with friends was far from a day off at home, in comfortable clothes, in a comfortable chair, watching whichever match was on. Though the food was about the same (and Greg liked that). 

“Could just be he’s afraid you can’t actually see me. Did you eat anything weird today?” Greg rolled his eyes. He’d clocked out and as much as he cared about Sherlock it felt too much like work. He didn’t want to deal with that right now or his ridiculous messages. 

After a short, fake laugh, Greg took another drink. This time not trying to down the glass in one go. He was settling in a little and finding his way to relaxed. 

Joan nodded, tipping back the rest of her drink, now about to work on her third one. Three was a good number. Three would get her drunk. As she pocketed her phone she looked down at her dress and realized how utterly stupid it was of her to be wearing it. This was Greg. They were mates. 

“Wait, what do you mean he’s afraid that I can’t actuallly see you?” She questioned, forgoing the beer from the bartender and asking for a shot of whiskey instead.

Cross-Continent-Covens|| Closed RP

joanwatsonwearsjumpers:

   Dean listened to her story, reading and measuring her expresses as he did so, making sure her apparent role was actually who she was. He found no traces of error– so far– and decided to throw her a bone. Glancing in his general vicinity he nodded once in gesture for her to follow. He grabbed his drink and suit jacket and backed away from the bar, finding them a secluded area in the form of a booth so they could talk more freely.

Being a gentleman he motioned for her to sit first before he followed suit, settling in. “So, London, huh? That’s uh– long way from home,” he commented. “I hope you brought more than just suspicions with you.” Otherwise this could be a very wasted trip. “Y’said somethin’ about ‘personal experience’?”

“My grandmother was a witch. She didn’t do any harm to others. She used it to grow her plants and help people out. But I didn’t think anything of it as a child, she passed when I was 13. But I saw some things at a crime scene that scared me. Things I hadn’t seen in years.” She explained, reachaing into her bag.

She pulled out a few pictures from the crime scene she had taken. Hex bags. Thye had been filled with bird bones and hiar and blood and other things she really didn’t want to think about to hard. 

“Please tell me you know about this. That I am not going crazy and my grandmother was actually a witch.”

Partners || tigerwithasniper {closed}

Joan usually woked alone. No one suspected the small blonde to be anything more than that. Dimwitted and a pretty face. She used it to her advantage. But at 24, she had speedily gotten her doctorate and a year later joined the army. Which was fine for the first few months, but she craved more. And she found it in the form of being a hired gun. And she discovered she was damn good at it. 

So when her employer insisted she take a partner on this job she wasn’t terribly happy about it. But she wanted the job. She had a reputation to uphold as Three Contients Watson. 

The small blonde settled into a back booth of the coffee shop on the outskirts of London she had been told to come to. She waited. In her purse was a flashdrive containing all the information on the job. They needed to go undercover and gain intell from a German diplomat and then dispose of him the day after. It would be clean and simple. Or, she imagined as much. 

@tigerwithasniper

Sebastian always worked alone, was better alone, was more efficient alone, got more jobs alone. He had been feared by many soldiers in his official unit and known by many more from his reputation. Despite his reputation, he kept his ears open to any gossip about the other snipers, especially the other ones that had made a name for themselves.

It was no surprise that the day came when he was asked to partner up. Though he wasn’t looking forward to it, but he was pleased to learn that his partner was the “Three Continents Watson” he’d been hearing about. He’d only heard rumors, but she was apparently just as talented as Sebastian was.

He entered the coffee shop, leather coat buttoned up against the wind. He spotted her at one of the booths in the back, knowing that it was her with the little information he’d been given. So Sebastian made his way over, sliding into the booth. “Ist dieser Platz besetzt?” he asked, German spilling from his lips effortlessly.

Joan was surprised by the man who slid into the seat in front of her. He was young as well, but seemed weathered. They’d be getting to know a lot of each other over the next two days it seemed. 

She sat indian style in the booth, her laptop facing her. She stuck the flashdrive in and grinned at him. “Natürlich nicht. Aber ich entschuldige mich, mein Deutsch ist rostig.” She said, with a little more effort than him. She was far better at french. 

“Joan, It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” She introduced, holding out a rather small hand. Everyone underestimated her because of her size. It would be their undoing, and it usually was. 

Sebastian took her hand, giving it a firm shake. “Sebastian. Pleasure to meet you as well. Shall we get right to it then or did you want more pleasantries?” Sebastian wasn’t quite sure how to proceed.

He was more than capable of acting friendly with his fellow soldiers as he had to with the higher ranking ones and when he went in for observations. But he’d never been with an equal of his own profession before and he didn’t know what was expected.

Joan wasn’t going to mention the fact that she was a Captain, nor was she going ot mention the facat that her being a hired gun was illegal. She felt like she was doing good work and that’s all that mattered. 

“Oh, I think we’ll have plenty of time for pleasentires tonight, don’t you?” She asked, moving the laptop to face him, a clear plan laid out in a crude version of a word document, but it got the job done. 

Partners || tigerwithasniper {closed}

Joan usually woked alone. No one suspected the small blonde to be anything more than that. Dimwitted and a pretty face. She used it to her advantage. But at 24, she had speedily gotten her doctorate and a year later joined the army. Which was fine for the first few months, but she craved more. And she found it in the form of being a hired gun. And she discovered she was damn good at it. 

So when her employer insisted she take a partner on this job she wasn’t terribly happy about it. But she wanted the job. She had a reputation to uphold as Three Contients Watson. 

The small blonde settled into a back booth of the coffee shop on the outskirts of London she had been told to come to. She waited. In her purse was a flashdrive containing all the information on the job. They needed to go undercover and gain intell from a German diplomat and then dispose of him the day after. It would be clean and simple. Or, she imagined as much. 

@tigerwithasniper

Sebastian always worked alone, was better alone, was more efficient alone, got more jobs alone. He had been feared by many soldiers in his official unit and known by many more from his reputation. Despite his reputation, he kept his ears open to any gossip about the other snipers, especially the other ones that had made a name for themselves.

It was no surprise that the day came when he was asked to partner up. Though he wasn’t looking forward to it, but he was pleased to learn that his partner was the “Three Continents Watson” he’d been hearing about. He’d only heard rumors, but she was apparently just as talented as Sebastian was.

He entered the coffee shop, leather coat buttoned up against the wind. He spotted her at one of the booths in the back, knowing that it was her with the little information he’d been given. So Sebastian made his way over, sliding into the booth. “Ist dieser Platz besetzt?” he asked, German spilling from his lips effortlessly.

Joan was surprised by the man who slid into the seat in front of her. He was young as well, but seemed weathered. They’d be getting to know a lot of each other over the next two days it seemed. 

She sat indian style in the booth, her laptop facing her. She stuck the flashdrive in and grinned at him. “Natürlich nicht. Aber ich entschuldige mich, mein Deutsch ist rostig.” She said, with a little more effort than him. She was far better at french. 

“Joan, It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” She introduced, holding out a rather small hand. Everyone underestimated her because of her size. It would be their undoing, and it usually was. 

Just Drinks || closed rp

joanwatsonwearsjumpers:

Having found himself hung up in a video call, Greg was late to the pub. He didn’t think all that much about it, it was Joan. Not that she didn’t deserve his time but they were mates and you didn’t have to be prompt to drinks with mates. 

Looking a little disheveled after a full day’s work, Greg strode into the pub with ruffled hair and leaving all coats in the car. The bags around his eyes were heavy but when weren’t they? 

It took less than a minute to get a pint of stout in his hand and he walked over to where Joan was sitting. Collapsing into the chair with a sigh he’d clearly been holding all day. “What I wouldn’t give for a day off,” he said, then took a gulp from his glass. 

Joan was already a pint in by the time Greg had gotten there and she was working on her second. He looked like he had a rough day. Even with the bags under his eyes and his scruffy looks she still found him pleasent. 

“I’m sorry, but at least after a long day you can still come and grab a pint with a friend, right?” She said, clinking her glass agasint his. She went to sip at it, but her phone buzzed with a text. She sucked in a breath hoping it wasn’t from Sherlock. It was. 

After a few moments of soaking in the information of the text she looked up, rather dumbfounded. “I-I don’t even know what to say to him. He must be off his rocker.” She said, holding up the phone so he could see.

It was a text asking her if she was seeing Greg, the man right in front of her. 

Joan blushed, wondering how she could give her such a compliment then strip it of all it’s meaning at once. It was rather offpputting and slightly…intriguing. “I’ll eat it if you order it.”

It was easy, she was back tracking faster than ever because she revealed things-personal things. “Are you blushing?” Elizabeth inquired as she came back with her iPad, checking previous orders she had made for pizza already.

Joan shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. “No. I’m not. I’m just hungry.” She said stubbornly, wishing she could have control over a situation for once in her damn life. 

Joan blushed, wondering how she could give her such a compliment then strip it of all it’s meaning at once. It was rather offpputting and slightly...intriguing. “I’ll eat it if you order it.”

“Oh. So you meant it then?”

“No I was being atrociously sarcastic-of course I meant it????”

“Now I’m rather confused here.”