Posts tagged why would you do this to me
the look on your face is delicate
take this sinking boat and point it home
#look at the difference between the first set and the second set #i mean jesus christ #his face alone is totally different #downard facing eyes instead of indignant ones #his lips are pressed together as if he’s putting up a front, instead of looking at her like she’s an idiot #and the way he’s sitting? #first shot: military posture, straight and strong, hands together and looking straight ahead of him #second shot: slouched in his chair, head in his hand and looking down #and the overall image? #first set: denial that something is wrong, that he’s affected by the war #might even punch someone in the face #second set: totally given up, trying to accept that his best friend is dead ,and he might start crying at any second #think about the image difference, what a difference Sherlock Holmes had made in John Watson’s life #from a man with a hard outer shell hiding his feelings, talking about how nothing is wrong with him #to a man who can’t hide his emotion, and can’t even say the words that have ruined him
(Source: jaylocked, via secretlyniall)
1 095 days. 26 280 hours. 1 576 800 minutes. 94 608 000 seconds.
(Source: thescotlandyard, via secretlyniall)
somebody loves you
(via agrippas)
But you are the only exception
(via jericapng)
(Source: pendragonemrys, via greenragemonster)
Such a long way down, John thinks after. He thinks about it for a long, long time. He thinks about it in the hospital, after the doctors, more than one, he remembers, tell him Sherlock is gone. Gone where? John actually says, stupidly. He asks more than once. Gone where? (x)
(Source: peansarker, via dinwos)
John never used to be afraid of heights. He didn’t used to be afraid of much of anything, to be honest. Now, God help him, walking under tall buildings makes his breath get tighter. He dreams about falling all the time - sometimes as himself, sometimes as Sherlock, sometimes watching either from the street. He—or Sherlock—never hits the pavement, but he doesn’t need to hit the pavement to feel it.
Every once in a while, he dreams he’s up on the roof with Sherlock, watching another, more naive version of himself on the street pleading into his mobile. The version of him that knows what comes next walks up behind his friend, locks his arms around him, and holds tight, breathing in the smell of London in that wool coat and letting his weight pull them both down from the ledge. He doesn’t let go.
His bed feels particularly cold after those dreams.
(via greenragemonster)
quick speedpaint ‘cause this has been in my head for ages. phone depicted above is Sherlock’s, not John’s.
stop it
no
stop
And then, on good days (when he can stand to think about him and all the good memories they had), John calls Sherlock’s cell just to hear his voice before he leaves a voicemail. It’s a ridiculous sounding message, but so inherently Sherlock, spoken in that bored and exasperated tone John knew too well: “Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective. Don’t bother leaving a message if it isn’t pertinent to a case.”
And, sometimes, hearing his voice would be enough for John. Enough to make him smile and laugh, and hang up and go about with his day.
Sometimes, though, he’d have to leave a voicemail. Just a “Hey, Sherlock, I’m not going to be at the flat tonight, just wanted to let you know” or even “Mrs. Hudson said you shot her wall again. I’ll let you take care of it this time.”
And, just once, years after Sherlock’s death, he said,
“I love you.”
Once was enough.
OMG UGLIEST CRYING
John stops blogging. He can’t see the point of it; nothing ever happens to him anymore - he’s just staying alive. But the good days begin to outnumber the bad ones through sheer bloody-minded placidity, and John fills the inbox of Sherlock’s phone with inane little messages and expects nothing back. With: “How many times can I get into a row with the chip and pin machine before they ban me? -JW”, or “Triple murder in the papers today. You’d have loved it. -JW”, or simply “Bloody raining again. -JW” - hundreds of texts about everything and nothing at the same time. And John stops blogging. But he never stops talking about his day.
(via undividedself)
#can we just talk about john watson for a minute #he was this lonely war hero who had no one #no friends #no real family #and no life after the war #and everyone thinks he is scared of the war and his bullet wound #but he’s not #he misses having a real life #he misses having something or someone to live for #then he meets a man who gives him back his life #a man who was just as alone as he was #and john teaches him how to feel #how to care for someone #sherlock holmes and doctor watson: the lonely men who found each other #but then sherlock is taken away from john #and what does john have after that? #memories of an unlonely life #and a flat that feels empty #if you don’t appreciate john watson i probably don’t like you
(Source: tuperting, via versoaverso)
Sherlock Holmes and John Watson from Sherlock.
Arrival of the Birds by The Cinematic Orchestra.
Edited by Amy Kinley.
(via greenragemonster)
