Tag: yes

atlinmerrick:

laybackthinkofengland:

ivyblossom:

ssherlock-blog:

“Actually, do you know what, ignore me.”

John. John Watson. He just killed a man to save me from myself. Who does that? God.

Look at him: he’s not like an ordinary man. He just shot someone and he’s perfectly fine. Not a hair out of place. He’s just standing there with those nerves of steel, those steady hands, he’s playing innocent, standing on the other side of the tape like he’s uninvolved. He thinks I won’t figure it out, he thinks I won’t know. He’s not ashamed of it or proud of himself; he just did what he thought was right. He didn’t even do it to impress me; he’s not trying to make a point, he’s not demonstrating his usefulness to me. He’s not going to hold it over my head, either. Is he. He found his way here just to protect me. Gratis. As if that’s completely natural.

Natural for him, maybe. Yes. Completely natural for him. My hidden jewel: John Watson. How could I have been so blind? 

I would be dead by now without him. I chose the wrong pill. I was wrong twice tonight. A true failure of an evening, by all accounts: two massive failures of observation, more if you count the details. It doesn’t matter: we’re both still here. Second chance: I’m paying attention to you now, John Watson. I see it all in you now.

He came after me, even after I told him I was married to my work. Even after I left him and ran off on my own, twice. I wonder if there’s a way to revisit that conversation, hmm. Not really an area in which I have any real expertise. Is that what he wants? How does one go about doing that?

I thought he was ordinary. I didn’t know what I was dealing with. Unfair! He was hiding in plain sight. He thinks of himself as ordinary, so he appears to be ordinary. To the naked eye, at least. But he’s not. Most definitely not. His hands aren’t even shaking, not even now. Look at that.

Oh, I’m keeping him.

Perfect.

Perfect squared.

ephemeriel:

“Heaven has no Taste”
~by Etherelle

“My dear boy-“
“You won’t have a choice.”
“Listen-“
“Heaven has no taste.”
Now-“
“And not one single sushi restaurant.”

That was the final straw for Aziraphale and Crowley, who at that point, combined their efforts to save the world. Good Omens is one of my favorite books for many reasons, but most likely for these incredibly contrasting and fabulous characters. If you haven’t read it, you should pick up a copy!

This print will be available at Fanime! I’ll be at Table 38.

blackmorgan:

The Wolf In The Tale ~ 221B

“Everything you have ever been told is a lie. We are born, not bitten and for every clever creature of us, we would rather be wise. We bow to no moon but time and when we take a mate, it is for life.”

John has never forgotten those words nor the choice he made on the moor that night.

Every time he oils the Sig, lays the bullets aside, he knows how close he came to taking the wrong life.

Mycroft asks him how he knew which wolf not to shoot and John says without hesitation, “The one with Sherlock’s eyes.”

The wolf across from him sips his tea. It’s suddenly all too civilized and John wonders what the brothers must have been like as boys, gangly, loping puppies ranging through the countryside.

Sherlock hastens proceedings, hurries Mycroft’s goodbyes; he wants John to himself tonight.

When he rounds upon his mate, there’s a feral gleam in his eye. Clothes have become a crime and there’s a new hunger to satisfy.

John bares his throat, lets Sherlock lick and bite. The victorious are insatiable and in the twenty-four hours since Baskerville, Sherlock has already bedded John twice.

Their third is just as fierce but neither would have it otherwise. Even the moon, bold through the window tonight, cannot tell man from beast.

Read on AO3

Tumult-In-The-Clouds’ lovely manip The Wolf Within got me thinking that there might have been more to the case in Dartmoor and Baskerville than we ever realised.

metalpjsofdeath:

tardiscrash:

I understand that they cut it for pacing and I agree with the choice but I love that in this scene Tony’s first reaction was to pick up a gun and fight and not just run.

I love this deleted scene so much. Not only is it wonderfully proactive, which I adore on principle, it underscores something people tend to gloss over: Tony was a weapons designer and manufacturer. He designed and built weapons for a living. He knows how to use a gun, okay? He can likely take it apart, clean it, improve it, put it back together again, and hit what he aims at. He does not need Natasha or Clint to take him to the shooting range and teach him which end of a gun goes bang. Why doesn’t the gun work here? It jammed. That’s it. It happens.

In short: Tony Stark does not need the suit to be a badass.

darthstitch:

Death In a Fuzzy Wooly Jumper

At first, they weren’t quite sure exactly what was the quiet, sweet-faced, jumper-wearing little man doing by the new M’s side.  Unlike his predecessors, the new M was rather good at commanding and demanding attention.  It wasn’t a surprise, considering that he had been the World’s Only Consulting Detective once upon a time.  

Of course, the official story was that the World’s Only Consulting Detective had already retired to keep bees in Sussex and his husband, partner and blogger of over three decades was now to be kept busy writing their memoirs.  Becoming the new head of MI6 was not to be spoken of.  At least not yet, anyway, so it wasn’t as if Dr. Watson would be chronicling anything about this current chapter in the life of Sherlock Holmes.

M’s bodyguard was normally chosen among the best of MI6 but it seemed M was perfectly to be escorted around by his husband and partner, who was, of course, given the necessary security clearance and their driver. 

Naturally, this gave certain Enemies of Crown and Country ideas. 

They made their move during an Oversight Committee hearing.  The Minister in charge of the hearing was in fine form during his filibustering, declaring MI6 a relic of the Cold War that needed to be put away, at the most and revamped from the ground up, at the very least. 

At least until M shut the poor sod up by a well-timed deduction on the state of his finances and the massive bribes he accepted to have this farce of a Committee hearing set up in the first place.  Gasps from the press recording the session had been quickly replaced with screams when a cadre of assassins disguised as more media men suddenly brandished guns, instead of cameras. 

Three of them fell with bullet holes in various portions of their anatomy, delivered by the steady hand of one Dr. John H. Watson. 

Two of them were accounted for by M’s bodyguard. 

Another two from yet another MI6 agent, presumed to be one of the famous double O’s, though cameras failed to somehow capture a clear shot of his face. 

And then, the good Dr. Watson, somehow more formidable in his comfortable, oatmeal-colored jumper than the rest of the uniformed and suited men and women coming in to diffuse the situation, managed to get at least two more assassins who had made the mistake of getting too close to his husband. 

The bribe-taking Minister, unfortunately, committed suicide a few days after this debacle was over.  The full story of the debts he accumulated and his unsavory habits, which accounted for said debts, was laid out to a gleeful and scandal-mongering media. 

And thus, the new “M” started out his MI6 career with his customary flair for drama. 

The complaints from Greater London’s Police Commissioner (read: swearing up a ruddy storm) was said to be heard clear up to Edinburgh. 

In the meantime, the entirety of MI6 would now refer to the good Dr. John Hamish Watson as “Death in a Fuzzy Wooly Jumper” in tones of appropriate reverence and respect. 

***

Note:   The Plot Bunnies won’t leave me alone, especially with Adorable Pictures to Squee Over.  Stick a Fork in me, I’m just so done.

PHOTO SOURCE:

Phoenixacid LJ

Cumberbatchweb

nixiesaurus:

James never wore his.  That was the thing about being the world’s only consulting criminal, although no one ever saw his face, he still could show no weaknesses.  Instead, he kept the ring in his jacket pocket.  He pointed out Holmes’ ‘Browning AR-15’, knowing that Holmes’ handgun was in his pocket, just as James’ was (although still referencing some perverse sexual comment, as a Browning AR-15 is a large assault rifle).  The two men were really just alike.

Sebastian never took his off.  That was the thing about living in the shadows, sneaking about through London back alleyways.  No one ever saw him, so when he was alone in some empty construction site or abandoned flat complex, he would hum ‘The Itsy Bitsy Spider’ while spinning the band on his finger.

Sebastian wore his to show James Moriarty owned him.

James Moriarty never wore his to show that protecting Sebastian was his priority.

thescienceofobsession:

scandalsoracrab:

i will never get over this. this one little walking through the kitchen doorway moment. he isn’t even in focus. he isn’t even the focal point of the shot. the shirt. the collar. the cardigan. the lack of tie. the undone buttons. the way he tosses the jacket aside. the little double back turn of confusion. the little shuffling of weight between legs. the momentum of his arms. his hair. not too long. not too short. everything. 

Unadulterated John love. Yes.