#bakerstreetxregular

[bakerstreetramblings]

As well as Sherlock here, I have also revamped my two sideblogs:

William Hamish, OC  [x.]

Wiggins, ACD based  [x.]

[ochrepaints]

you  think  i’m  stupid ? ~bakerstreetxregular

QUESTONING MINDS MEME.

"No more so than anyone else,” Jamie replied bluntly. The barbed comment was delivered with a smile which didn’t reach her bright eyes, and she leaned forwards and rested her crossed arms on her knees in a slightly patronising gesture, the way she always dealt with Wiggins and her other child employees.

Truthfully, he was fairly intelligent for a boy of his age and background -- what he lacked in academic education he made up for in social intelligence, which was more than could be said for a majority of adults. It was this natural cleverness which had drawn Jamie to him in the first instance, and convinced her to keep him in her employ. Children could gather information which adults could not, and were less noticeable in certain situations. Though Jamie Moriarty was obviously not a gang leader, she could see the appeal of using children as go-betweens and carriers. She beheld the boy for a moment longer before asking, “I assume you have news, Master Wiggins?”

[indiciummentis]

❛  you came back !  ❜ ~ bakerstreetxregular

[ 50 𝘿𝙄𝘼𝙇𝙊𝙂𝙐𝙀 𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙈𝙋𝙏𝙎   ,   𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝚃𝚆𝙾 . ]

"Heard you the first time," Sherlock waves his hand in the air as he stumbles into the sitting room with no little effort. He looks around for a moment, squinting his eyes as they adjust to the feeble yellow light dimly lighting the place. It's quiet. All too quiet. No John, for starters, which is always a tragedy. No Mrs Hudson ( she's out with Mrs Turner, he notices after a quick glance at the staircase ) and, oh, beautiful, the little kid is here. That would explain the talking, then.

Sherlock flops down into his armchair, limbs numb from the drug still circulating in his system. He sniffles, throwing his head back for a moment. It hurts. Brilliant. "Please be quick, I have better things to do as you can tell." Better things, as in shooting himself up to numbness, now that John isn't here. He's never going to be back, isn't he? He doesn't care.

[itsusxallysubtext]

❛ were you … spying on me ? ❜ ~ bakerstreetxregular (i've returned!)

50 𝘿𝙄𝘼𝙇𝙊𝙂𝙐𝙀 𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙈𝙋𝙏𝙎   ,   𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝚃𝚆𝙾 .

    "I'd be a TERRIBLE detective's assistant if I was spying on you, and you noticed, don't you think?" John chuckled, shaking his head. "No. I just came to check on you."

[downthespidersweb]

Continued from x.

@bakerstreetxregular

bakerstreetxregular​:

It wasn’t the first time he’d been in the presence of a gun - there were a number or two on the streets who had hold of ones illegally - but never had one deliberately been stuck in his face. Or that closely.

Wiggins’ eyes widened though the rest of him stayed still; freeze, fight or flight. He didn’t know what he should do, really. Or how serious she was - he’d only been joking himself.

“Where’d ya get a gun like tha’?” he asked, hoping the question would distract her finger from pulling the trigger.

downthespidersweb:

Jezebel knew that would shake him. Maybe, next time, he’d think twice before throwing around phrases such as “fight me”.

❝I know people.❞ she responded, shrugging her shoulders without a care in the world, still pointing the gun with a worrying stillness that never seemed to falter. ❝Do you still want to play?❞

[downthespidersweb]

"Fight me!" ~bakerstreetxregular

Jezebel regarded Wiggins with condescending observation.

❝I’ll save you t’e trouble.❞

The child coolly withdrew a small pistol from the inside pocket of her jacket,pointing it carelessly towards the boy.

[johnboywatson-blog]

bakerstreetxregular

“I don’ know!“ Wiggins protested back with all the energy left he could muster. Even with the other’s strong grip on him - and escape seeming pointless - the boy still struggled to get a release on the grasp. "I ain’t seen ‘im since two days.”

Biting his lip, John’s eyes search the boys for a sign of deceit and finding none, reluctantly releases his grip. His shoulders slump in defeat, the weight of sleepless nights and worry taking their toll.

“Look kid, I think - “ He was going to say, ‘I think he’s in danger’ but thinks better of it. He’s used to Sherlock disappearing on whims but this time, it had been too long and his texts had not been returned once. “ - If you hear from him, anything, I’ll be at Baker Street.”

[oraculumin-a]

"I didn't mean it!" ~bakerstreetxregular

8. Shoving my muse down the stairs with @bakerstreetxregular

{🌼} Molly looks at him, seemingly BETRAYED; as she purses her lips, feeling a stabbing pain in her ankle as she practically crumples onto the ground. “Christ, what did you do that for?” She fights the urge to curse, aware that above all he’s still a CHILD. 

                                         “I think I’ve twisted my ankle.”

Or at least that’s what she hoped it was; her hands moved to prod gingerly at her leg, trying to assess the situation, but the pain was excruciating.