#beedork

[inkedmoonlight]

    @beedork   .|.  sherlock being gently harassed with love from bobbi   .|.

    bobbi was by nature an isolated person,  well cats didn’t count.  but she’d taken to sherlock,  and right wrong or otherwise -  he now receive most if not all of her human attention.  grocery delivery had also been the single best thing to happen to her,  she never had to actually go anywhere.  which freed up a great deal of social time.  

Which social time with Sherlock usually meant listening while he thought out loud, sketching in his general vicinity, or him indulging as she went on a rampage about a book she read or an artist she liked. It was a strangly comfortable relationship. One she didn’t want to do without, because ultimately affection, and in its own way a sort of love - made things messy. And rarely did she enjoy messy human relationships. But as she trudged through the snow of the sidewalk and tapped on the door - teapot in hand. It occurred to her she really didn’t mind this particular human entanglement. “ Sherlock open the door - the tea is getting cold and I even remembered mugs.” This time she knocked with the toe of her boot. Hands around the pot savoring the warmth. “I’m also freezing to death and I’ll find a way to blame it on you if I actually freeze to death on your front stoop —.”

[omniishambles]

     SHERLOCK || @beedork​      continued from here !

     * * *

 Immediately she paused, the running of the tap the only sound before she shut it off and turned to fix Sherlock with A Look. She’d noticed the redness and the telltale marks of teeth as she walked into the kitchen, it being displayed so openly by his short sleeves.

 And it was glaring, hence her concern. But now, suddenly, all her concern had filtered away with the water down the sink.

   “If you’re trying to tell me this was a sex thing, I don’t want to know.”

     * * *

[myricds-archive]

@beedork didn’t ask for this but i do what i want.

           ❛   i’ve been worried about you, sherlock.    ❜     she speaks in the casual tone of a woman discussing simple facts with an acquaintance, not one who’d simply been waiting for him on his couch despite any precautions he’d had in place to keep the brownstone safe. she doesn’t stand when he enters, merely watches him carefully. in truth, she’s been watching him for quite some time, but he hadn’t been home for weeks, and despite her connections, jamie had been unable to track him down.     ❛   you’ve been avoiding me, my feelings were hurt.   ❜

[governmentofficial]

@beedork

“I still don’t understand why you are the favourite child.”

[rawwrchie]

                      the great love of my life is a homicidal manic. no one is perfect.

                                                                        ( source )

[iappreciateworksofart-blog]

the blonde paused, a small smirk passing across her features. her brows furrowed, eyes narrowed and oh... this was the WARNING SIGN. her paintbrush lowered.

“i’d appreciate it if you stopped staring. how can a master work, with that sort of distraction?” she swivelled on the stool, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. in the process, blue paint splattered on her cheek - it happened so often, irene was quite oblivious to the fact. also, completely oblivious to the time. smirk still on her features, irene watched sherlock, the smirk almost turning to a smile (but nope, she was going to be strong and not allow him that satisfaction for distracting her). “one wrong stroke of a brush and someone may accidentally be decapitated. and that’s just a terribly messy affair, really. not something you’d like to see. but i suppose that would fit the time period of this piece. hm. ...but why are you--”

ah, right. they had meant to be going somewhere, hadn’t they? doing SOMETHING at least.

her eyes flickered to the clock, and she turned around slowly on the stool to face her painting once more. CRAP. she’d gotten too lost in her work to notice the time. irene couldn’t proclaim to be the most punctual all of the time, but honestly, she tried. and for him? irene tried harder than most. for a second, she almost looked sheepish (an expression irene hadn’t even known she could make).

“perhaps i... okay. no. i’m sorry. i didn’t realise. have you been waiting long?” she sighed, a slight smile on her features. “well, i guess i need to thank you for the distraction. some times i end up just working through the night. if you hadn’t turned up, i might not have stopped. ever.” irene placed down the paint pallet, and the brush was placed in a mug of water. standing up, she stretched her arms above her, then absently rubbed at one cheek (paint spreading across it).

“even though the master artist has stopped her work for now, perhaps you ought to come up with some other distractions so i’m not dragged back to the easel...” she teased gently, rolling up one sleeve of her paint stained shirt.

          { starter call;; @beedork }

[predomiinates]

@beedork. ( starter call. )

     “I don’t do house calls, Mister Holmes.” Certainly not without cause ( or a very tempting payment ). “But Kate made an almost convincing argument on your behalf.” Almost being the operative word, Irene still has her own doubts about this little venture. “I can only hope that it was worth her trouble.”

[queensconquest]

@beedork​ entered the domain of The Woman [aka started following]

The sound of heels CLICKING against cement and then the glossy tile rang out in the SILENCE that had gripped the area. Dramatic effect; the sound of heels snapped many people into a position of SUBMISSION and interest. Further interests were increased when they caught sight of the fair skinned, dark haired woman that the heels were worn by.

      “If I’d known you were going to show up, I would have had the maid prepare something to ease your wait. I hope you haven’t had to wait long.”

Words that are hard to tell if GENUINE or FALSE fell from red lips while blue eyes landed on the waiting figure with a roguish expression. There was no indication of agitation from prolonged waiting in his body language at least. Black coat hung up, The Woman faced him with an expectant look.