#I’m not in love with it

[captain-rickbond]

King Philip the Second of Spain

of Spain

[writingwife-83]

Sherlolly Appreciation Week, Day 7: Space AU

I’ve never had a huge interest in doing a Star Wars AU for the BBC Sherlock characters, but when I saw that Day 7 had “space AU” as an option, I figured this was my opportunity to give it a go! This is such a tiny little snapshot into an AU that could be incredibly complex, but I hope that any who enjoy SW like what little I did with it. ❤️ and happy last day of SAW!!

Balance (👈AO3)

Sherlock let go of the ledge, allowing himself to fall through the hatch in the top of John’s ship. He hit the floor and lay there, shaking and still clutching the throbbing stump at the end of his arm as he felt the ship take off. The adrenaline was still pumping through his veins, so the pain was minimal, compared to what he knew it would be soon. He shut his eyes, trying to ignore the fact that even as he escaped she was still calling out to him through the Force…

“Sherlock? Maker, what happened to you?!” John exclaimed, rushing out of the cockpit to check on his friend.

“It… didn’t go as planned,” Sherlock groaned.

“You can say that again,” HUDD-3RS commented, having come to inspect the situation as well. “I knew this was a terrible idea. But nobody listens to me.”

“Not now, Hudders!” Sherlock bit back at the protocol droid.

“Well!” she huffed, beginning to shuffle away. “I shall just go and rest my circuits if I’m not wanted.”

John crouched down, making a cursory examination of his friend’s injuries. “She’s not wrong, Sherlock. This was a terrible idea and I think you rushed into it. Regardless, we’ve got to get you medical attention.”

Sherlock sat up with some difficulty. “We have bacta on the ship.”

“Bacta won’t grow a new hand!” John yelled. He shook his head, thinking for a moment. “Look, I know where we need to go, and no arguments.”

“Oh? And where is that?”

“The one person who always manages to see through your Bantha crap… I’m taking you to Molly.”

“You are no sister of mine!”

“But I am. I am your sister. Search your feelings, brother. You know it to be true!”

“No… no.”

“Join me, Sherlock. Just think of how powerful we could be together! The entire galaxy would bow before us! You don’t know the power of the Dark Side… but I can teach you.”

“There is nothing I wish to learn from you!”

“But don’t you remember, Sherlock? Remember when we were small, how much fun we used to have, playing together. We could be that happy and free again. Oh, how I used to love making you laugh…”

Sherlock jolted awake to find lights shining down above him, and he could hear the soft whirring of machinery, prompting him to turn his head on the table where he lay.

Molly.

She was working with her back to him; that comfortingly familiar dark hair braided down her back against the backdrop of the gray jumpsuit she always wore at her shop. He was never sorry to see her, but he was sorry it was under these circumstances.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Molly commented as she turned around and crossed the room to him. “How are you feeling? I’ve already given you something for the pain.”

“I’m fine.”

“Good.” She paused. “John will be back soon. He just went to get some supplies for the ship. And I’m just finishing up on your hand. Well, I mean your new hand.”

Sherlock turned his gaze back to the ceiling, feeling like more of a fool than he ever had in his life. How had he not felt it before? How had he missed it?

“I’m glad you’re safe.”

Sherlock shifted his gaze to look at her again. Her eyes were glistening ever so slightly, and she turned quickly away to retrieve what she’d been working on, returning to the table with the mechanical hand.

Molly Hooper was the best engineer he knew. Medical engineer, more specifically. She could find the problem in anything with working parts, including humans, and could usually fix it too. But she was more than that to him. She was a safe place, a hiding place, a place where he felt truly seen. Many times over the years he’d questioned whether she was in fact Force sensitive, but she truly wasn’t. It wasn’t about that and perhaps that’s what made her special. Everything about her that had always been so impressive to him came straight from her own heart, without the need to harness some outside Force.

Molly cleared her throat, holding up the mechanical hand as he sat up on the table. “I had this already, so it didn’t take long to make a few adjustments so it would work for you. It’s nothing special, but it’ll do until I can make one that includes artificial flesh and skin.”

“It’s fine,” Sherlock replied flatly. “Best get this done so I can get back to work.”

“Tell me if it hurts, ok?” She placed the machinery against his wrist and began the process of fusing it with his existing nerves and muscles. “So… John said you’ve abandoned the Jedi.”

“Becoming a Jedi Master was the path my family wanted for me,” Sherlock explained, seeing his home planet explode and splinter into a billion tiny pieces all over again in his mind’s eye. “I was never meant to be a Jedi. Especially not now. You see, a Jedi does not seek revenge.”

Molly was quiet for a moment. “Revenge will not bring them back, Sherlock.”

“Darth Eurus doesn’t deserve to live!” Sherlock snapped. “She has taken too many lives and she must be stopped. If not, the galaxy will never be at peace... I will never be at peace. Besides, I know she will keep searching for me as well. She won’t stop.”

“Searching for you? Why?”

Sherlock looked at her innocently quizzical expression with sorrowful eyes. “She is… my sister.”

Molly’s jaw dropped. “Sister? Are you sure?”

Sherlock nodded. “She wanted me to join her, Molly. The worst part of it is, I considered it,” he admitted sadly. “That evil, that darkness, it’s in me too. I can feel it… and I have to destroy it.”

Molly continued working on his hand as she glanced back at him. “There’s darkness in all of us, Sherlock. Killing your sister won’t take that away.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “I suppose you think I should have stayed with the Jedi.”

“No, I don’t,” she replied, more firmly. “If you don’t want to be a Jedi, then you shouldn’t be. But you still have to find balance in the Force. Killing your sister seems to me to be giving into that darkness.”

“Pff, when did you become an expert?”

Molly shrugged, and he saw her cheeks flushing a bit. “I’ve… done a bit of research, that’s all. You were a Jedi, after all, so I just wanted to know more about some things.”

A smirk bloomed on Sherlock’s lips. “And what exactly did you learn?”

She chewed at her lip. “Well… attachment is forbidden.”

Yes it was. And unbeknownst to her, Sherlock had many times been warned about his repeated visits to Molly’s shop. His brother Mycroft, who had chosen to be a senator despite his own Force sensitivity, had cautioned him, advising that romantic attachment could even be a path to the Dark Side.

Advice which John quite vocally disagreed with.

“Yes, that is part of the Jedi code,” Sherlock confirmed softly, watching her as she continued working.

“There,” Molly finally said a couple minutes later. “Try it out.”

Sherlock lifted his arm, turning his new hand this way and that, and bending his fingers up and down. He reached out, using the Force to pull one of the tools on Molly’s workbench toward him until he caught it in his hand.

“I think this will do nicely,” he said, hopping off the table.

“Here,” Molly added, handing him a glove. “You can wear this, so as not to draw attention to it. I’ll send word when the other one is ready.”

Sherlock tugged the glove over his mechanical fingers, then smiled at her. “Thank you, Molly.”

She nodded, smiling up at him. “It’s no problem. And, Sherlock, think about what I said, please.”

He agreed, and he meant it. He was full of anger and the desire for revenge, but was that truly the path he wanted to take? Perhaps not. Perhaps the right path involved more thought, more caution. Perhaps before confronting his sister again he must learn more about her and the strange connection they share. Could something good come from that? Could balance be found for them both? He couldn't yet say for certain.

He began to turn away, but then Sherlock stopped himself, facing her again. “Molly?”

“Hm?”

“One more thing.”

Sherlock leaned down while taking gentle hold of her chin and tilting it upward, allowing his lips to easily find hers and mold perfectly together. If ever a perfect balance was to be found in the galaxy, this was the closest he’d come to experiencing it himself. When he pulled away, gazing into her half lidded eyes, he gave her a small smile.

“I am no longer bound to the Jedi code.”

[introvert-slushie]

Currently thinking about how much Ford tries to hide his hands a lot when he can…behind his back with this stance. Due to how often he’s been bullied for it.

And also, how Mabel is one of the ones who Ford feels happy about showing his hands to because she thought they were cool looking upon first shaking his hand, instead of him being judged for his six fingers.

[ID: Gravity Falls screenshots. The first three are of Ford with his hands crossed behind his back. The last two are of him shaking hands with Mabel, and letting her paint a turkey on his hand. He's smiling in both. End ID.]

[foldingfittedsheets]

When I was young my dad offhandedly told me he thought people treated fish with so much casual cruelty because fish can’t scream.

The words branded themselves across my soul.

As an adult I think he may have been joking. He payed no especial attention to any indignities fish suffered in our household but I could never forget. I saw fish in a different light after that.

Fish kept in tiny bowls, breathing their own poisons, dying by inches. Fish kept in cold tanks, casually disposed of. Fish touted as being short lived when they could outlive the better loved family dog if only they could breathe. Fish casually won and discarded in cheap plastic bags, thrown away a week later.

How they would scream, if they could.

[mlm-blues]

“lmao imagine liking men” OK!!! ON IT BOSS 🫡🫡🫡 it’s beautiful here

[daincrediblegg]

OK THIS IS NOT A FUCKING DRILL EVERYONE FUCKING REPEAT AFTER ME. THIS IS WHAT YOU WILL DO WHEN YOU WATCH MUPPET CHRISTMAS CAROL THIS YEAR:

You will navigate to the page on disney plus (and it has to be here. Unless someone has actually uploaded the REAL movie anywhere else you cannot get it elsewhere)

BUT YOU WILL NOT HIT PLAY. You won’t do it. Because it’s NOT THE REAL VERSION OF THE FILM AND DISNEY IS FUCKING LYING TO YOU AS IT ALWAYS DOES

You will scroll down HERE. To EXTRAS instead. You MUST GO HERE. This is non -negotiable

THEN YOU WILL SCROLL DOWN TO THE BOTTOM OF THE EXTRAS AND YOU WILL THEN HIT PLAY ON THIS BAD BOY: THE FULL LENGTH VERSION

And you will watch it. And you will thank me for having been so blind and led astray by that stupid fucking mouse. You’re welcome.

[formulanni]

Roan of Arc

Tag list: @st-leclerc @rubywingsracing @saviour-of-lord @three-days-time @the-wall-is-my-goal @albonoooo @ch3rubd0lls

[anna-scribbles]

so this summer i am nannying a 5 year old who loves miraculous ladybug (my dream) & every day she asks if we can play ladybug and chat noir at the park. these are some comics based on our various games<3

[fxreflyes]

“tumblr mutual” beloved friend I would pick up at the airport if y’all visited my home city

[greykolla-art]

My blog has become infested with angst goblins, and they must be fed with some hypothetical scenarios!🙏💚

[not-your-lawyer]

“French is such a beautiful, romantic language.”

“Cat, I farted.”

[nerd-izzy-art]

Revelations

[bisclavaret]

a day late to my 6 years on t anniversary ✨🏳️‍⚧️ a short comic about looking back

[notherpuppet]

This is not a hiatus announcement (don’t come for me!!!) lol, but yeah school starts tomorrow so idk how often I’ll be able to draw fanart. But I’m devoted to my relationship to HH and am trapped by the radio demon so I’ll be around 🥰♥️

The good news is that I’m going to school to learn how to draw better so hopefully my fanart game will level up hehe 🎮✨

[stuckinapril]

Reminder that the US bombed Iraq a day ago. Reminder that this attack has killed 16 Iraqis, many of whom were civilians. Reminder that Iraq has already suffered enough at the hands of US imperialism, that to this day it’s recovering from the aftermath of being defamed to the world as terrorists, from its cities being destroyed under the guise of “exterminating ISIS” (an echo of Israel decimating Palestine to “exterminate Hamas,” interesting), that the US has so many ulterior motives to continue encroaching upon Iraq that have nothing to do with their seemingly noble rationale, and that it does all this while funding Israel’s ongoing genocide of Palestinians (which are basically doing their dirty work of pushing further in on Arab territory). It’s jarring that this is all happening on a world stage & yet nothing is being done to stop it. Hands off Iraq. Free Palestine. Hands off Iraq. Free Palestine.

[starsofang]

Simon didn’t like to hold you. He liked to be held.

At first, you didn’t understand why he’d turn his back to you in bed without saying anything. You thought you’d done something to him, or maybe he was in a bad mood. You couldn’t be any more wrong.

Simon Riley, an absolute brute of a soldier, was silently asking for you to be the big spoon. You nearly didn’t believe it when he finally brought it to your attention.

He was too embarrassed to ask you, so he’d resort to flipping on to his side and wait. And wait. Until he realized you didn’t catch the memo, even after many hopeless attempts.

In his mind, he thought being the big spoon would somehow convince you he wasn’t manly enough, as if his title in the service or his pure stature wasn’t proof enough of his masculinity.

To him, being held was a blanket of security. Where he’d always have to watch his back out on the field, both literally and metaphorically, he didn’t have to keep an eye out at all times with you. It was a chance for him to find solace in a person, and when he explained this to you, he was surprised to find you so willing.

And oh, when it happened, Simon nearly kicked himself for holding back on verbalizing it for so long.

The warmth of your arms when they wrapped around him from behind, your face buried between his shoulder blades, legs tangled in his, he thought that this was what inner peace felt like.

He was silly to think you’d ever be the one to judge him for what most deemed ‘unmasculine’. In all of his broad glory, he felt safe the moment you held him, like a child does when they feel a mother’s embrace except it was from someone he loved dearest to his heart.

And you? You found that being the big spoon was rather enjoyable when the man you’re holding was so damn comfortable to snuggle up to. It was a win-win for you both.

You just wished he wasn’t an idiot that left you wondering all those hopeless nights until the truth came out.