John Watson

Sherlock's silent, watching as John pulls on a pair of gloves. "Would the concern come before or after the lecture about how I shouldn't have investigated the warehouse on my own?" He half winces at the antiseptic cleaning the wound, eyes zoned in on his flatmate. "I'm not used to having people care about my wellbeing, Watson - Well, my mother, but she doesn't count, she's obliged by blood to care for me." He looks down at the bandages before returning to the man standing before him. "Because I value your insight and find you quite enjoyable to have around." Silence falls between them for a moment, Sherlock shifting in his seat. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed your reaction."

Turning his head away, he starts cleaning up and putting away the supplies in the kit, pressed his lips together, before admitting, "You weren't wrong about the lecture." With a sigh, he stops what he's doing, gaze returning to Sherlock. "I enjoy having you around as well, you know, and I'd hate to lose you because you were being an idiot." The man might be absolutely brilliant, but for all that brilliance he could be quite short sighted when it came to his own well-being. The world would be sorrier with out him, certainly, but John would be absolutely lost without him. If only Sherlock could realize just how much he meant to him.

tomundsen-deactivated20250731

Sherlock Holmes (2009)

#visage #the detective and i #fc

[text; JW] Very. [text; JW] It wasn't? What was it then? Did you lecture him? [text; JW] Nagging isn't sexy, John, [text; JW] I'll come join you. [text; JW] I could be your wingman [text; JW] I've never done it before but how hard can it be?

[text; SH] and what does my sexuality tell you about me? [text; SH] I do not nag! [text; SH] never mind what it was [text; SH] it's too long to explain over text anyway [text; SH] oh, really? [text; SH] I think i'd pay to see this [text; SH] i'll see you at the 5 crowns then

[text; JW] Don't be irritated, I've had a busy week [text; JW] He? Interesting [text; JW] Oh come now, he's clearly not very resilient if a few texts are going to frighten him off. [text; JW] I'll text him an apology if you'd like. Tell him what an upstanding citizen you are. [text; JW] You're correct there, Watson - She does a marvellous scone. [text; JW] Are you coming home then?

[text; SH] Is it that interesting that I date men as well? [text; SH] He knows that about me [text; SH] And it wasn’t just the texts [text; SH] I doubt he’d be much convinced to come back [text; SH] I don’t know [text; SH] I’m debating going to a pub and drowning my sorrows

~ @jxwatson || liked for some tipsy texts ~

[text; JW] I've been starign at this murder case for so long Im starting to think I did it [text; JW] Where are you? [text; JW] Maybe you did it [text; JW] Are you on a date again? [text; JW] Imagine if our landlady was a murderer [delayed][text; JW] She whacked me [text; JW] come home

[text; SH] I did mention that I was going out tonight [text; SH] But i suppose i shouldn’t be surprised that you forget [text; SH] And, yes. if you must know, i’m on a date [text; SH] Or I was [text; SH] He just left [text; SH] After a certain detective wouldn’t stop pestering me [text; SH] I think i’d let her off [text; SH] On account of her scones are divine [text; SH] 😂 [text; SH] I’m sure it was well deserved

~ @jxwatson || How long were you going to hide this from me? ~

"Well -" Sherlock pauses, thinking about his answer. "Ideally I was never going to tell you, couldn't quite face the lecture." He gingerly lifts his shirt up to reveal the gash that ran down along his side. "However, I think it might be infected, hence why I'm coming to you now."

John exhaled through his nose glancing up at Sherlock with a reproachful look, before turning his attention to the wound. The cut is a long, angry and inflamed thing, and deep enough that it should have been stitched up but it was too late for that. “For fuck sakes, Sherlock. Is it really that painful,” he said, opening his med kit and pulling on a pair of gloves, “for you to hear me express concern about your wellbeing?” Carefully, he cleans around the gash with alcohol pads before cleaning the wound with an antiseptic wash. “I don’t think that having a friend tell you to be bloody careful should bother you that much.” With a bandage securely in place, he takes off his gloves and stands, giving Sherlock a sharp look. “And if you find me that annoying I’m not sure why you’d want to have me as a flatmate.”

#themarvelliteraryuniverse #muses: sherlock x john #ic

@themarvelliteraryuniverse sent… [MINIMIZE] The sender downplays the significance of a traumatic event, failing to acknowledge its impact. //Because this is exactly what sherlock does and it's perfect

“S-Sherlock, you were almost killed.” Dumbfounded, his an expression is a cross between disbelief and hurt, because he had almost lost that he had grown close to. How could he stand there and be so nonchalant about what had transpired.

“Do you understand what it was like? To be there that day?” Jaw tight, his voice rises a little with anger. “I didn’t have my gun—not that bullet’s would’ve been effective against that metal monstrosity—but that wasn’t the worst part.” The memory of that day haunts him still. To be and feel so helpless to help his friend, and his hands ball into fists because Sherlock didn’t seem to care. “The worst part of it all was that I couldn’t do anything. I’m not a mutant. I don’t have powers. All I could do was stand there and watch as that thing,” he growls, his arm sweeping to the side as if it were standing next to him, “captured you and took you away.”

He’s breathing heavy, eyes hot and he’s blinking rapidly as if he was trying to cool them. “Sherlock,” his voice trembles with emotion, “I wasn’t sure if I was going to see you again, and if I did find you if you would even be alive. Do you really not think your life matters?”

[MINIMIZE] The sender downplays the significance of a traumatic event, failing to acknowledge its impact.

John's mouth goes slack and his eyebrows shoot up. At first, unsure if he heard Q correctly, but as he replays their conversation in his head, his brows descend back down until they're touching. "Q, do you really think that getting shot whilst in an active war zone is nothing?"

#resignedworkaholics #q?#ic #// hope this is okay!#// and sorry im late to replying to this

wordsfromwilde

We only just found this brilliantly ridiculous promo photo for Jude Law as Bosie Douglas in Wilde (1997) - and now we’re regretting our much tamer photoshoot for Words from Wilde…

#the visage #fc

Amelia gave a small sigh, she knew she'd lost this battle. She got to her feet grabbing her jacket, slowly putting it on with nothing but a tight jaw and grimace etched across her features. "Fine.." see in her head, she thought that she was doing good not saying anything to either her father or John. Yet in reality, Amelia knew that she had been wrong. Yet would she admit this fault? Of course not. As was the Holmes way.

Mrs Hudson came through the door at that moment, "Oh you just got back where are you going?" The landlady asked, to which the young Holmes gave a small smile glancing toward John. "Doctors Mrs Hudson, we won't be long. Dad should be back soon, you know what he's like" Amelia responded. She walked out of 221b, guessing that they were going to get a taxi.

Breathing hurt and now she thought on it, Amelia felt as if she had been hit by a bus. Maybe she did hit the side far harder than she originally thought she had. The taxi arrived fairly quickly after grabbing one off the street, Amelia got in carefully first putting on the seatbelt. "Let's just, get this over and done with" Amelia muttered, hazel eyes looking out the window of the taxi, observing every street and person that went by.

#tcbefearless #amelia #ic #queue

The ride over to the clinic is silent, and the air between them is heavy. When they arrive, he leads them up the steps and opens the door, locking it behind him once they're inside. He turns on the lights at the front desk and for the hallways in the back.

"Come on, let's get an X-ray of your chest first." He guides her to the room. There's a large dresser and he opens one of the drawers which is filled with gowns. He pulls one out and places it on the X-ray table. "I am sorry to ask," he winces knowing it will hurt, "But it would be better if you wear a gown. You don't need to take anything off below your waist. Do you think you can manage?"

justanotherrpmeme

Lack of Empathy starters

"Why is everyone so upset about that?" "Crying won't bring them back. Move on already." "I don't understand why you're so worked up over a simple mistake. Get over it." "Honestly, I can't be bothered to care about what others feel." "Why are you looking at me like that? It's not my problem if they're hurting." "I heard their sob story, but I just couldn't bring myself to care." "You expect me to sympathize with them? That's a waste of energy." "They're making such a fuss over nothing." "Empathy is a weakness. I don't have time for weakness." "You're upset, but it's not my responsibility to make you feel better." "I don't care how it affects them. I'll do what I want, regardless." "Stop being so sentimental. It's a dog-eat-dog world, and I'm just surviving." "Why bother with their feelings? It won't change anything in the end." "Feelings are a distraction. I focus on what needs to be done." "I don't get why you're making such a big deal out of this. Move along." "Sympathy is for the weak. I'm not wasting my time on that." "I don't care if they're happy or sad. It's irrelevant to me." "Empathy is a luxury I can't afford. I'm here to succeed, not to feel." "Why should I care about their feelings? It's none of my business."

[IGNORE] The sender witnesses the receiver crying but continues with their activities, showing no concern. [DISMISS] The sender hears about the receiver's struggles but brushes it off as unimportant. [MINIMIZE] The sender downplays the significance of a traumatic event, failing to acknowledge its impact. [INVALIDATE] The sender responds to the receiver's emotional expression with dismissive remarks, invalidating their feelings. [NEGLECT] The sender is aware of the receiver's suffering but neglects to offer any support or comfort. [BELITTLE] The sender mocks or belittles the receiver for expressing vulnerability or emotional pain. [EXPLOIT] The sender exploits the emotional vulnerabilities of the receiver for personal gain.

#rp starters #meme #queue

"I didn't tell you because I didn't want to worry. The only reason my uncle knows is because he watches my every move" Amelia explained rather bluntly and quickly. She was putting up a front again, putting up that wall. "like I told Mycroft, I'm not going to hospital. I don't do hospitals." Stubborn as ever, even if breathing did hurt, Amelia would simply get on with it.

She lowered her shirt, taking a seat opposite, her arms gingerly crossed over her chest. "I'm fine.." and yet she spoke through a tight jaw. Hazel hues didn't meet his own, so typical of a Holmes. "If I go to the hospital they are going to want to do a report. Scotland Yard are next to useless, and if anyone else knows that I have been followed and targeted.. no John, I can't have anyone else under the radar" In her mind she was doing it to protect others, the last thing Amelia wanted was anyone to die because a report had been issued.

His shoulders lower as he let's out a sigh. His brows form a 'v' where they touch and above them a vein is pops out and pulses. The stubbornness of these Holmes were going to put him in an early grave. Behind his eyes, a headache is beginning to form. Oh, he was going to have words with Mycroft later. Amelia might not want Sherlock to know, but this wasn't a secret that her or Mycroft should have been keeping from them.

He takes in a deep breath and lets it out to calm himself. "Fine. No hospitals, but you're coming to the clinic with me so I can check you out." He hopes she was right and that nothing was too serious, but he will sleep better knowing that is true. "And Amelia, you cannot be keeping things like this from your father or I. We have all been targeted, and might I remind you that I was grabbed by Moriarty's men not too far from here and even Mycroft wasn't aware."

He shakes his head. "This is reckless. You have a family, Amelia, and we should all be looking out for each other. At least if we're aware something is going on, we can--," he stops, swallowing hard. He doesn't want to think of her getting taken. "Let's um--let's go get you checked out, and I'm not taking no for an answer, young lady."

Amelia gave a small sigh, she knew she'd lost this battle. She got to her feet grabbing her jacket, slowly putting it on with nothing but a tight jaw and grimace etched across her features. "Fine.." see in her head, she thought that she was doing good not saying anything to either her father or John. Yet in reality, Amelia knew that she had been wrong. Yet would she admit this fault? Of course not. As was the Holmes way.

Mrs Hudson came through the door at that moment, "Oh you just got back where are you going?" The landlady asked, to which the young Holmes gave a small smile glancing toward John. "Doctors Mrs Hudson, we won't be long. Dad should be back soon, you know what he's like" Amelia responded. She walked out of 221b, guessing that they were going to get a taxi.

Breathing hurt and now she thought on it, Amelia felt as if she had been hit by a bus. Maybe she did hit the side far harder than she originally thought she had. The taxi arrived fairly quickly after grabbing one off the street, Amelia got in carefully first putting on the seatbelt. "Let's just, get this over and done with" Amelia muttered, hazel eyes looking out the window of the taxi, observing every street and person that went by.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't want to worry. The only reason my uncle knows is because he watches my every move" Amelia explained rather bluntly and quickly. She was putting up a front again, putting up that wall. "like I told Mycroft, I'm not going to hospital. I don't do hospitals." Stubborn as ever, even if breathing did hurt, Amelia would simply get on with it.

She lowered her shirt, taking a seat opposite, her arms gingerly crossed over her chest. "I'm fine.." and yet she spoke through a tight jaw. Hazel hues didn't meet his own, so typical of a Holmes. "If I go to the hospital they are going to want to do a report. Scotland Yard are next to useless, and if anyone else knows that I have been followed and targeted.. no John, I can't have anyone else under the radar" In her mind she was doing it to protect others, the last thing Amelia wanted was anyone to die because a report had been issued.