Ugh, this scene gives me all the feels.
John has no idea what Sherlock is doing, but goes anyway. Jumping in front of a bus. On top of that, though, he outpaces Sherlock and stands closer to the street, knees bent, ready to jump, pull and/or throw Sherlock out of the way himself if whatever plan John still has no idea about fails. Because even when he has no idea what the fuck is up, John will make damned sure Sherlock doesn’t hurt himself doing it.
I just…my feels.
Tag: Photoset Philosophy
The thing that touched me most about this scene wasn’t really the fact that Sherlock tried to call for John but rather the fact that John knew that there was something wrong. That Angelo kept insisting that it’s all “part of the plan” and that John, after knowing Sherlock for about a day, knew that there was something wrong. That he knew Sherlock that well after a single day of knowing him. That shows a real connection between them and that’s what I loved most about this scene.
Sherlock’s smiles..
I have to say, one of my favourite things about the bbc Sherlock is this. Sherlock has been characterised as a ‘master of disguise’. Most versions of Sherlock take this in the most obvious sense (think RDJ’s Sherlock in the nearly indecipherable disguises).
But BBC Sherlock? He’s still a master of disguise even though he rarely changes any aspect of his outfit. The closest he came was the clerical collar and even that was the smallest of additions to his usual costume. BBC’s Sherlock is a master of disguise but not through any costume changes – it’s through body language.
And that really mirrors who he his. Every Sherlockian knows the line “No what I do is notice.” (and various paraphrases) and that’s what Sherlock uses – he knows what movements and expressions cause people to subconciously react in certain ways. BBC’s Sherlock is an elite master in disguise because he doesn’t need anything but himself.
♛ sherlock meme | nine scenes [6/9]
This is such a hard moment for me, because what this is – what we’re seeing – is Jim Moriarty mourning Sherlock’s death in advance. As far as he knows, this is the end for Sherlock, he’ll jump, he’ll die, and Jim will go on without him; back to trying to ‘play’ with the ordinary people. And the prospect of this is visibly depressing him. For Christ’s sake, look at him. Completely miserable. He knows he’s about to lose the one thing, the one person, that has been the most adept at giving him joy, entertainment, distraction, excitement, for the past… I don’t know, twenty years? Sherlock is one of the few people who could match Jim’s mind, help Jim feel less alone in the world, challenge his intellect – on top of that, Sherlock is probably the only person who would ever have the desire to do so. Sherlock plays along. Sherlock takes the bait. Sherlock likes the adventure. Sherlock loves the game, too, and he’s actually willing to play it with Jim. He plays it eagerly. He doesn’t just dismiss Jim, like Mycroft more or less does, and he isn’t just terrified of him, like everyone else is. The amount of satisfaction, relief, Jim must’ve gotten when he first saw that Sherlock would play with him, would try to solve his puzzles… after all this time, hesitating, waiting, thinking of reaching out to him but not, looking for the right moment…
Jim found other things, meanwhile, to distract him – but Sherlock was the best distraction. Sherlock was the best at occupying him, at capturing and focusing his mind on something, anything. Let alone that it’s heart-breaking, to me, that he’s had to spend his entire life distracted just to survive. He’s had to search for things to distract himself from… from what? From misery? From anxiety? From boredom? From his memories? From his anger? From life? From having to exist in a world that he doesn’t fit into, because he was born with this destructive genius he never asked for, his own mind, which is “an engine, racing out of control; a rocket, tearing itself to pieces trapped on the launch pad”?
And now, Jim’s saying good-bye to Sherlock. He’s sitting there alone, knowing that he’s about to destroy his own favorite toy, because he can’t stop himself. He can’t help himself. Look at him, he’s an absolute child. A frustrated genius of a child. Angry, unable to properly communicate what goes on his mind to anyone who could begin to understand, unable to find peers or friends, or anyone who is smart enough to even teach him anything, and in his rage he is smashing his own favorite plaything, and he’s crying before he does it because he’s brilliant enough to understand that it’s going to be ruined, forever, afterwards.
Jim is mourning Sherlock’s death.
This is why OTP.
…I don’t know what to say to that, but for the first time in my life I’m shipping these two.
You have to wonder what the backstory is to this one. I mean, people who know and love Sherlock are absolutely, 100% convinced that John is Sherlock’s date the moment they see Sherlock and John together. It’s a running gag, obviously, but it wants explaining.
Sherlock is clearly a loner. He knows people (quite a lot of people, actually, more people than John appears to know), but he doesn’t choose to spend his time with any of them. He just solves puzzles. That’s all. He doesn’t enjoy the company of other people. He doesn’t go out for dinner with anyone, ever. (That point ever-so-nicely underscored by his bewildered question to Irene in Scandal.)
It’s pretty apparent to us by now that Sherlock isn’t particularly moved by attractive women. He doesn’t particularly react to Irene at all, even when she’s propositioning him. Maybe others have seen that in him too; he doesn’t seem interested. So they may make the next logical step (“Oh, he must be gay, that’s fine.”) even though he isn’t particularly moved by men, either.
Maybe Angelo told Sherlock ages ago that he was always welcome in the restaurant, any time, with anyone he likes (“Bring a date! It’s on the house!”), and Sherlock never turned up. Then one day, months and months later, he appears with a fellow he’s clearly fond of. Sherlock must be fond of this bloke, he must be trying to impress him, right? Because he’s willing to spend an evening over dinner with him, an event which Angelo has never witnessed. He’s willing to sit in a restaurant like a normal person with this fellow, so he must be tremendously special to Sherlock.
Sherlock doesn’t have friends. So maybe no one jumps to the conclusion that Sherlock has just made a new friend, because…well, he could have been friends with dozens of people but chose not to be. Mrs Hudson loves him, Molly loves him, Angelo loves him, Lestrade loves him too: there must be others, people he’s helped and rescued along the way, people who respect his brain even if they think he’s entirely too odd for this world. I’m sure there are a number of people who would be more than happy to sit across a table from Sherlock if he ever felt lonely. But he never takes anyone up on that. People who admire him are just a side effect of his work. He doesn’t solve the cases for them and their reactions. They’re an unintended but not entirely unpleasant side effect. He doesn’t appear to give them much thought at all. He ignores them.
For some reason, Sherlock takes to John almost immediately, and goes about trying to impress him. Everyone around him notices that: Mycroft asks about a happy announcement, Mrs Hudson makes her assumptions, as does Angelo. Sherlock is the observant one, but everyone around him sees that John is special to him. John doesn’t feel particularly special yet, because he doesn’t know Sherlock. He doesn’t know that Sherlock has just made every possible exception for him.
Sherlock doesn’t take John to Angelo’s in order to work on the case. He takes John there to trick him into losing the limp. Sherlock takes John out for dinner to cure him.
There are three explanations I can think of for that behaviour, all of which I think are true.
The first is that it’s another curious puzzle for Sherlock to solve while waiting for the next break in his current case. (“Can I cure a psychosomatic limp? I bet I can.”)
The second is that John will make a better addition to Sherlock’s life minus the limp (there are, after all, seventeen steps up to 221b, and he doesn’t want to give up his bedroom on the first level). It would be better if John isn’t struggling up and down stairs. Sherlock is not a patient man. I’d say that Sherlock realizes that John would be more of a help on cases minus the limp, but I don’t think Sherlock realizes yet just how critical John will become to that enterprise. (This is, after all, before John turns the tables and impresses the pants off of Sherlock by shooting a cab driver through a window.) If he did realize it, I’m sure he’d have cured that limp long before dinner time.
The third explanation for Sherlock’s act of kindness is this: “You’ll be impressed with me if I can cure you.” The distance Sherlock is willing to go to impress John is kind of epic, when you think about it. It doesn’t look epic to John at the time, but if he ever considered Sherlock’s behaviour after the fact, from the vantage point of knowing him for a year or more, he must marvel at it a bit. Sherlock took a complete stranger to dinner. That’s unheard of. Sherlock takes a very special and unusual interest in John immediately.
No wonder Angelo thinks they have a romantic connection. This is Sherlock pulling out all the stops. It must be love.
I have so much love for you ❤
You know what I love about John and Sherlock?
That they’d give their lives for each other without a second thought. That they’d take another life to save each other without a second thought. That they’d only just met, and they’d already subconsciously committed themselves to each other for life. That every girlfriend John has eventually leaves, because they have to compete with Sherlock Holmes, and you know what? He’s fine with it. That Sherlock let John into his life, his experiments, his cases, within a day of knowing him, and that he never let him go. That even though neither of them is gay, and they certainly don’t have sex or kiss, they love each other unconditionally as couples do.
Best part? Even if they’re not romantic… they’re absolutely and certainly canon and they have one of the best friendships to ever exist. (x)
This is what I have always loved about these two, and what always brings me back to them. Every iteration of this couple – and (much like Irene implies in this version) they are a couple, even if they’re not a couple – shows that deep love between the two, and really, it’s so much more impressive that that affection, that devotion between them has no romantic basis; that they’re friends that are just that close.
I’ll happily enjoy all aspects of the shipping from gen to the various levels of romantic this fandom embraces (as you may be able to tell from my other blog content XD) but it’s that strong, devoted friendship that will always bring me back to Sherlock Holmes and his Doctor Watson. Always.
I may have strong feelings about this…
What I always found so amazing about this moment is that Sherlock didn’t even consider that John wouldn’t know what was going on, not because Sherlock is rude or inconsiderate, but because Sherlock sees John as an equal. Mrs. Hudson wouldn’t understand. Lestrade wouldn’t get it. Anderson? DEFINITELY NOT. But John, his friend John, would because Sherlock doesn’t feel the same as he did during that crime scene in Study in Pink. He doesn’t assume that John is stupid or anything like that because John has proven himself worthy of his respect. He has come to a point where he assumes that they are equal in intelligence. When he’s with John, he is no longer a giant among insects because he feels that he can look John straight in the eyes without him flinching.
And whether you ship it or not, that’s love. That’s respect and friendship and love.
^THIS
Sherlock’s smiles..
I have to say, one of my favourite things about the bbc Sherlock is this. Sherlock has been characterised as a ‘master of disguise’. Most versions of Sherlock take this in the most obvious sense (think RDJ’s Sherlock in the nearly indecipherable disguises).
But BBC Sherlock? He’s still a master of disguise even though he rarely changes any aspect of his outfit. The closest he came was the clerical collar and even that was the smallest of additions to his usual costume. BBC’s Sherlock is a master of disguise but not through any costume changes – it’s through body language.
And that really mirrors who he his. Every Sherlockian knows the line “No what I do is notice.” (and various paraphrases) and that’s what Sherlock uses – he knows what movements and expressions cause people to subconciously react in certain ways. BBC’s Sherlock is an elite master in disguise because he doesn’t need anything but himself.
I can’t get over how John almost salutes Sherlock’s grave. As if in his grief, he can’t do anything else than revert to his army-persona. To the person he was before he met Sherlock.
I SAW THAT TOO! Assuming that posture, the swallow, the nod, the turn… John Watson, the soldier, when there’s nothing left to be.
Broke my heart.
Martin Freeman deserves all the awards
I read that that’s what you do in regards to someone superior (like an officer) or someone you respect.
WHOOPS THERE GOES THE HEART BREAK.
Lady Karasu 