@soldierandheart - Tumblr Blog

userboxed

#john

ulibeanzz

unfamiliar with the concept

#relevant

.

#the most important button on my blog #is not the one asking for donations toward mice keeping expenses

meladoodle

wow sir… this resume.. is amazing. i didn’t even know you could get a pHD for being a babe magnet… hired.

#john

boredmachine:

soldierandheart:

boredmachine:

Oooh, favorite customer. Steady as she goes.

Sherlock Holmes, the wingman.

[Look at you, sir, being subtly interested in John’s happiness. He sees you.]

#boredmachine

boredmachine:

Oooh, favorite customer. Steady as she goes.

Sherlock Holmes, the wingman.

#boredmachine

boredmachine:

Any luck with that barista you fancy?

[Oh, no. He gunna keep it rolling. Listen here, army boy.]

[Gentle staring into the abyss.]

Well she, uh.

[Frowns and SHRUGS.]

She drew a little heart on my cup the other day.

#boredmachine

boredmachine:

[The world’s most Subtle Eye Roll.]

I do not even like cafes. That is your bag.

And? I enjoy a good cuppa. Don’t know what you’re implying.

[He knew, okay, he knew, but he was gonna stand there (ramrod STRAIGHT) with his hands behind his back like he’d never paid for overpriced tea and ambiance.]

#boredmachine

boredmachine:

The beetles were important.

[Gives him a look.]

And I say again.

There you are.

Long as you don’t start hanging out in front of cafes looking looking like you can’t be bothered with the entire- OH and never mind look at that I just saw into the future.

#boredmachine

bbcthree

It’s John Watson!

The Empty Hearse will be repeated on BBC Three on Friday the 4th of December at 8.30pm

#and this too

sydsir

audio from bbc sherlock s2ep2 for a lipsync assignment

cleanup+edits maybe in my spare time later ENJOY

#ooc #just puts this here cuz it's neato

boredmachine:

I do have to wonder if John would let ecigarettes pass…appalling for one’s aesthetic, but it is far more nicotine fix than damn patches.

Well....

[Gonna hem and haw about that one. Just a little.]

As a doctor I can’t really actually say I approve. I mean, just as if I were your financial adviser, I couldn’t technically advocate you spending 20 pound on imported ground beetle...

But it’s certainly much more preferable to raising the beetles yourself in our flat.

So.

There you are, I suppose.

#boredmachine

boredmachine

I do not drink anything pungent enough to require shots.

[He was fidgeting. Leaning. Shifting. Because he got away with that around John in the flat. Where no one else was looking or Sigar’s influence on his social learnings was weak.

Hand on his head and the voice made him stop after a last shift. No moving. Stop. Breath in. Hold. Breath out. Still.

He forgot.]

soldierandheart

[John supposed this would be exciting if framed in another context. Maybe if Sherlock were Christine, and his brown curls were blond, and he had a history of stepping on John’s back with high heels instead of lightly brushing it with his fingers. Sort of turn the tables, which is something he’d played around with in his head but hadn’t gotten to play around with in real life yet. He supposed, then, this kind of thing would fall into that specific kind of exciting.

But Sherlock had soft brown curls, not blond, that felt like silk under his fingers. He had broader shoulders that moved with measured, unnecessary breaths. He didn’t need to breathe but he did anyway because he was trusting John, he was staying perfectly still because John had told him to, and a thought occurred to him that even if this wasn’t exciting in that way....

It was still bloody exhilarating.

He kept that hand on Sherlock’s head for a few minutes longer. Just a few minutes of the stove clock ticking, of faint sounds of passersby from outside the flat window, of the smell of tea and ruddy blood and the rest of the familiar kitchen ambiance. It was exhilarating but John also found a bit of rest himself in those moments. Because Sherlock was still for a moment. And he was pretty sure (or at least he hoped) that it would help. And that had been his entire aim in the first place.

When it was over he took the hand away and bent down to press lips to Sherlock’s temple. That word “good” in the same tone but without actual words. Then the tea was set in front of him and John folded himself into the seat beside him. Shoulders relaxed, gentle smile.]

Alright I better let you drink this before it chills down too much.

#boredmachine

boredmachine

[He let out a loud gratuitous sigh and opened his eyes. Moving. Shifting. Hands still under his thighs and caught against the seat.]

I am not hungry. The taste is insufferable.

soldierandheart

Just... think of it as medicine. Didn’t someone ever wave a spoon full of thick green goop in your face as a kid? Or maybe take it like a shot at a bar. Either way--

[He glanced over and saw the minute little twitches, taking a moment to consider if they counted. Decided that they did and reached out to set a hand on the top of Sherlock’s head. Lowered his voice again.]

Stop.

[Red tea was ready, but he also decided not to make it available until Sherlock settled down again. Not like he was overly eager to drink it anyway.]

#boredmachine

boredmachine

[Hard not to know the time or the date. Clocks were everywhere these days. On the nuke. The oven. The wall. The wrist. The mobile phone. The TV. Computers.

7:22–]

Seven twenty-two in the evening yesterday.

Red tea in a mug. [Half-packet blood and half tea in a microwaveable mug. Tired of copper and iron. Sugar never helped.]

soldierandheart

[Quirked a little smile. Honestly had been expecting worse; seven twenty two in the evening last Thursday. But okay, good. His hands left Sherlock and were replaced by sounds of him getting up. Opening the fridge and the clinking of cups. The kachunk of the microwave door and the click of the stove knob.]

Don’t move.

You’re going to eat a little before you go diving back into it. Lord knows you hardly eat enough as it is, and your brain needs... you know. Fuel.

#boredmachine

boredmachine

[Had the bite the inside of his mouth to keep from quipping off. But John was usually the one of very few people capable of getting him to mind his words to some degree. Though he could not always turn it off all the same.

He made himself toke in some air sharply. Pointless in the form of air- he didn’t need oxygen anymore. Lips twitched into a hard frown about that. Made himself exhale and even out his expression.

John was a very grounding force and the hands felt like paperweights. Kept him from blowing away again.

It took time. More than one breathing exercise to get there.

But he got calm. Remembered what meditation was and how to use it. And how much it was beneficial to thinking.

Jim and Lupin and John had an effect of giving him a more emotional tint to his life and behavior, but sometimes it wasn’t good for his process.

He needed to remember how to break off from his heart and focus with his mind again. Separate entities. Separate functions. He was neglecting his own maintenance and discipline.

What he was doing, banging around the kitchen table for twelve hours a day, was not productive.]

soldierandheart

[John happened to be one of the very few people that knew how to shoulder a few harsh words without taking them personally. Being quiet hadn’t been in the instructions anyway. Only momentary stillness.

Hands were on Sherlock’s shoulders as weights but also served to feel out his gradual relaxation pretty well too. His own shoulders relaxing unconsciously with them. Unbelievably pleased that his own personal experiment worked, and incredibly proud of Sherlock for working with him on it. After a few long minutes of unnecessary exhales and muscle deep fidgets, John finally moved himself. Only to glide firm thumbs up along the back of Sherlock’s neck. Back down again. Comfort and praise.]

When’s the last time you ate?

[Expecting and trusting a truthful answer. Especially now.]

#boredmachine