Anonymous asked prettyarbitrary:
Sherlock/John. John is a princess

I wasn’t sure which way you meant this, so:

Crack:

The tiara wouldn’t stay in his short hair, he practically had to carry to dress to keep it from tripping him, and the less that was said about glass slippers, the better.

“Why the fuck do you get to be the Disney prince, Sherlock?”

“Because I’m a baritone.”

Genderswap:

It was a farce.  She was a swordsman equal to her brother Harry, and a better rider, and in archery even their weaponsmaster said she would surpass him soon.  And yet Harry rode with the knights, and here she was in skirts and a corset, simpering and curtseying with willowy grace as one useless man after another judged her fitness to be locked away from the sun and the air while she bore him children.

“Sherlock Holmes, heir presumptive to the Duchy of Bedford…”  Titles, titles, more titles, as if she didn’t have them force-fed to her in tutelage till they came out her ears.  She probably muttered them in her sleep.

She spun on the man, teeth bared in what everyone was too blind to see was no smile at all, and met his eyes as aggressively as a riposte.

Eyes like glaciers, glittering with the same angry, stifled light.  

The ball might have ended, or frozen in time, for the time they stared in wonder at each other, marveling at finding a kindred spirit.  At last Jeanne asked, “Do you dance?”

“No,” Sherlock said.

She felt her lips part in a true grin.  ”Good.”

Genderfuckery (omegaverse flavor):

The gown was the same blue as his eyes, and fitted to show off his curves from the subtle flare of his hips and gently nipped waist to the broad, strong slope of his shoulders.  He’d known it flattered him, but the proof was in the gratifying flare of appreciation in Sherlock’s eyes when John came downstairs.

He strode up the moment John reached the landing, laid his hands on John’s cinched waist and kissed him.  “When we marry,” he murmured, “I’m going to have to forbid you to wear this dress, or another man will steal you away from me.”

John laughed.  ”I like being looked at.  But you know I’ll take the hands off anyone who tries to take this off me but you.”