[Comprehensive] Looking for a male god system experiencer

ight! "She knew that she could not escape the clutches of this family. And maybe there are some things that should be asked face to face.

At 02:30 in the afternoon, Jasmine came to the door of 221B.

The black wooden door had been repaired countless times, and it exploded one after another. Jasmine was glad that the restaurants here were still open.Mrs. Hudson was not there, and she didn't expect Sherlock to answer the door. Anyway, she had a spare key here, which Mrs. Hudson gave her.

She opened the door and went straight to the second floor.She is already very familiar with the structure here, and she has recited the people who live here countless times in her heart.

Catherine's crying sound poured into Jasmine's ears from the first floor, and she rubbed her ears, getting ready to receive a baptism of greater decibels.

When she stepped into the door, Sherlock was hugging the violin in one hand and Catherine in the other, and embedded himself in the sofa with a loveless face. The standard London paralysis coupled with the feeble moaning voice accused Jasmine of saying: : "As Rosamund's godmother, you are so irresponsible. You were late for two hours, 15 minutes and 23 seconds. It only takes 221 minutes to drive from your home to 30B. I gave you an extra 30 minutes. See? ? This is Rosamund's punishment for your lateness." As he spoke, he shifted his gaze to the trash bin piled with wet paper towels by the fireplace.

Jasmine held her forehead weakly and said, "You can't ask me to do things according to your ideas, and you say I'm irresponsible? I don't know who answered the priest's question first when Siri held the ceremony in the church."

"Oh please! It's just a small accident (oh, please! It was just a small accident!)" Sherlock knew that Jasmine would mention this, and very impatiently lifted Rosamund, who was about to drip saliva on his precious violin , stood up from the sofa, and stuffed Catherine into Jasmine's arms without saying a word.

His suit was a little wrinkled from Rosamund's ravages, and his light blue shirt complemented his dark green eyes that were as sharp as a falcon.He lowered his head and adjusted his suit in disgust, stretched out a slender white finger and continued: "God is a fiction made by you people."

"Us?" Jasmine raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, Yes!" Sherlock nodded earnestly and said, "Dreamtupbyinatequateswhoabnegateallresponsibility. (It was conceived by incompetent people to avoid responsibility.)" When Sherlock spoke, his eyes fell on the top of Jasmine's head. It was obvious that this It's obvious.

"Enough! Sherlock!" Jasmine rolled her eyes, and she knew that Sherlock had nothing good to say.

"Okay, now that you're here, I can go out." Saying that, Sherlock picked up the phone on the floor and sent a text message.

"W...wait! Where are you going?"

"Mycroft! There are things I can't handle and I need to do it myself." As he spoke, he held his head high and pulled his inner shirt, showing a flat and standardized smile. With a long leg, he walked to the door Turning his head to the side, he added: "Oh! Catherine's diaper should be changed!"

Sherlock 02

I lay on the tatami and projected the screen onto the ceiling so that I could watch it from the comfort of my pillow arm.

After Sherlock went out, Jasmine's expression on the monitor flashed a little lonely, but she turned around and went to change Catherine's diaper, and cleaned some unbearable corners again.

The relationship between her and Catherine seems to be quite harmonious. Anyway, I have never seen Catherine crying and making a fuss again. She lay quietly in Jasmine's arms, holding the bottle tightly.

This was a tender moment. When the camera darkened, it turned into a bird's-eye view of a man's sleeping face. His face was white, his lips were a little dry, and his eyelashes were thin and curled. It was hard to imagine that this was a man's eyelashes. He was sleeping. The way he was dressed still carried a strong hostility, the pure white nightgown formed a sharp contrast with the dark red flannel blanket.

The angle of view is a little flat, this is a very luxurious room with a strong Rococo architectural color.

The Huoshaoyun outside the window is as beautiful as a goddess whose cheeks are blushing, and the rays of light make the whole sky red.Just a second ago, she was still a blushing goddess, but this second is a cavalry riding a bloody BMW in the sky. They waved their sharp swords and spears in the air, and the sky was getting redder and redder, like blood. The setting sun looks thrilling on the distant coastline.

The peaceful picture was suddenly broken by the fluorescent light under the corner of the pillow. It first lit up and twisted a few times in the bed sheet, then buzzed and vibrated.The room is filled with incompatible and even funny ringtones:

"Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk.

I'mawoman'sman: no time to talk.

Music cloud and women warm, I've been kicked around

since I was born.

Andnow it's all right. It's OK.

And you may look the other way

Wecantrytounderstand

the New York Time's effect on man.

Whether you're a brother or whether you're a mother,

you'restayin'alive, stayin'alive.

Feel the city breakin' and everybodyshakin',

and we'restayin'alive, stayin'alive.

Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin'alive, stayin'alive.

Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin'alive."

Accompanied by the ear-piercing ringing of the bell, the sleeping man jumped up from the bed, his expression was not sleepy at all, his eyes were big and energetic, especially his browbones were full of heroism and beauty.

If some people are naturally decent looking, then this person on the screen is naturally surly and gloomy.

"Hello?" His voice was very thick.

The picture freezes here, and a line of English words spread out on the left side of the man—【Jim Moriarty.】

I opened my lips and said the name again - Jim Moriarty.

He just said hello and didn't say anything more. The long silence made the atmosphere stiff. After a long time, he grinned his lips with an exaggerated expression, and said in a melodious tone: "Wow, I have to say, you are a despicable villain." As he said that, he made a 'little' gesture in the air and continued: "I am willing to help, as long as I have a little right."

"Deal." These were the last words before Moriarty hung up the phone. With a triumphant smile, he happily threw the phone on the bed.

He opened the closet and carefully selected the patchwork and custom-made fashions that he visited.

In the end he chose his favorite Westwood suit.The moment he took off his bathrobe, my eyes shone like a tiger. This frail gay man, who seemed to be in poor physical condition, unexpectedly belonged to the type of clothes that make him look thin and fleshy when he took off his clothes. He has just the right waistline And the protruding pectoral muscles filled my sight.

But looking down again, he turned his back, leaving only an imaginative back, especially the very straight buttocks, which made me cast my shy gaze frequently.

After about a few minutes, I turned around, straightened my hair, went to the bathroom and applied hairspray again, poured myself a glass of red wine, and raised my glass to myself in the mirror.

Just as he raised his glass, the screen in front of him turned white.I frowned and stared at the crash-like display in front of me. Before I could get up, I was sucked into an unknown time and space by an invisible force.

I rely on!

Uncle's!

The shit looks like it's gone from under my feet!

After a long period of blank mind, I struggled to open my heavy eyelids.The furnishings here are very familiar. I scratched my forehead and trembled. Here... I didn't have time to think about it. I got up from the cold floor and bumped into a pair of unfathomable and lifeless eyes. Emotions are well disguised as calm.

I have seen this person, just now.

Jim Moriarty...

"Whoareyou" For my sudden appearance, Moriarty did have surprise in his eyes, but he quickly covered it up. He raised his head and drank the wine in the glass in one gulp.All the red liquid entered his mouth. Looking from this direction, his Adam's apple looked abnormal and sexy.

"Do you want a real name or a pseudonym?" I poked my neck and said humorously.

"Whatever you want." Moriarty