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#idk how it works but it works okay
piedpiperart · 1 year
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I see a lot of posts about Danny seeing Jason and immediately thinking he’s a baby ghost and wanting to adopt him but what if it’s the other way around?
What if Jason sees Danny and is hit with oh my god that’s a baby, who left a baby unattended out on the street?? He needs help, gotta protect him, mine, yeah he’s mine now, I got u lil guy don’t worry
Meanwhile 15 yr old Danny is like um hi?? And promptly gets kidnapped. But he just lets it happen because he’s actually feeling the safest he’s ever felt in his life with this guy, and Danny’s core immediately recognizes Jason as parental figure and just relaxes Danny 100%
Jasons feeling like Danny is a helpless baby while Danny feels safe, protect, calm, safe, relax, and he just lets Jason take him home. Neither are really sure why or what is going on with them but they’re not gonna stop it.
I think it’s because Danny’s own parents kinda suck and any other ghost that he’s interacted with he’s had to fight in some capacity or has been spooked by them. Jason’s the only one who 1) wanted to parent him and 2) has good vibes. Danny’s usually waiting for fights to happen and he’s very stressed. Jason calms him down so much he probably falls asleep before they even get to Jason’s apartment, full trust that Jason will take care of him.
Meanwhile Jason never really connects with his pit side, but really wants to find some way to have a truce. Cue Danny, and both Jason and the Pit turn to protectiveness and so the rage becomes more protection and Jason yk, might be kinda lonely and wanting something to take care of. He was probably thinking about getting a cat and not a kid but he’s not complaining
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obsob · 1 year
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making and weaving and loving! like we have done for millennia!!
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puhpandas · 3 months
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hi. beckory and fronnie parallel
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luvit · 4 months
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(female!reader, mdni 18+)
graves knows where to find it
you bugged him, taunted him even when you said he didn't know where it is. in front of other people no less. oh, how wrong you were. and he was gonna teach you a lesson for it.
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"what, darlin'? you said i don't know where it is? i know where it is, baby. i know." his tone is so smug, so condescending. he's talking down on you, pulling rank. just like how he's pulling sweet moans from you.
he's been edging you for hours but does not touch your clit once. just barely sucking and fingering and stroking you and pinching your nipples with accidental brushes, it's so much. but not enough at the same time. he deliberately avoids touching you right where you need it no matter how far his fingers reach and how much it stretches you out. it's just barely enough from his fingers to feel just a hint of stimulation from it. he knows he's not stretching you as wide as you want, going in a little deeper. he's playing with you and teasing you because he can. because he knows where it is, of course he's going to punish you by making sure to not touch you!
he just keeps stroking you so meanly, listening to the way your keep making such filthy, wet noises for him. he'll kiss, lick, and suck exactly where you don't want him to be, too. because HELLO!!! there is a way better place for him to use that cocky mouth. but he's sooo happy to keep it like this for now no matter how bad you're tugging and pulling at his hair or digging your nails into his arms that rest around your hips.
and finally he caves and when you're twitching and at your peak once again, he pulls back and you're practically crying, greiving the loss of his fingers on you when you're clenching so tight.
you can't see it, but you look so pathetic that his smug smirk changes to a menacing grin. he finally takes mercy on you. you've been let down after so long from him breathily kissing and slobbering on your slit, he's fighting for passage in there with his own fingers. you're crying, you can't really tell but you sure want to if you haven't already. when he pulls out those fingers once again and leaves you just lingering on the edge, you're pretty sure you sob.
you're still twitching and thrashing and begging and then all of a sudden he leans in real close and sucks hard on your clit. it's a quick one too, he just wraps his lips around the little bud and then so harshly pulls it deeper into his mouth with one suck. it makes you cum instantly from how sentitive it's been. he's so mean! he's laughing down at you as you kick out from the one kiss he gave it :(
"see, baby? i told you i know where it is."
but he doesn't stop there and keeps going, assaulting your clit basically. he just doesn't find it in him to be able to. it's the complete opposite now. he keeps sucking on just that and not touching anywhere else, holding you down as you buck and twitch with your legs kicking out and hitting his back for some reprieve. he swirls it with his tongue and swipes it up and down, leaving it coated in a gooey layer of your slick and his spit.
when his tongue gets tired, he's breathing heavily over it while his fingers play with it too now! you can feel his warm breaths on it while he pinches it gently between his fingers and rubs your folds at the same time, the only time you've felt him touch you anywhere besides your clit. you're a mess in front of him and you feel so empty inside, clenching around nothing. how contradictory from before. did you want his fingers in you or not?
at that, he laughs against you and just keeps sucking harshly. and when you think he's had enough he puts his fingers in FINALLY and finds your gspot with ease. he's got a hell of a good read on you because the way your pitch changes just so slightly, and he knows he's stuck gold.
"oh? found it." he's so condescending about it. just the way he keeps abusing both your clit and gspot at the same time while he fingers you. "see, darlin' i told you i know where to find it. both of 'em."
now he's back on your clit and fingers deep inside of you and playing that sweet spot of yours. you're begging him to ease up. but he keeps going because he's convinced that you still doubt him. convinced that you only want him to stop because you can't take it, that it's too much. but he wants to prove to you he knows where it is. gotta make sure you know he knows. he's touching both spots right now so stop running away!
you can't count how many times you've been brought so close to cumming and now cumming nonstop. he keeps bringing one after another and you're fairly certain that you just haven't stopped cumming the entire time.
eventually, eventually, after he's done with you, he slaps your ass with a proud smirk. a loud clapping sound and a sting that sends you reeling as he pulls out of you. "that's what i'm fuckin' talkin' about. i told you. i know where it fuckin' is."
he can't help but brag. and to be fair, you have to let him.
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do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere (reblogs welcome!)
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petricorah · 10 months
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lee from the tea shop boutta get it (wip) [id in alt]
edit: completed illustration here
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speakingviscera · 1 year
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fluttershy redesign(?) idk all i know is fluttershy is transmasc and listens to death metal what do you want from me REBLOGS VERY APPRECIATED :3
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barghest-land · 4 months
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таится чудо в любом пустяке я раньше не видел такого тумана здесь даже деревья растут как-то странно и птицы поют на чужом языке
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oh-katsuki · 4 months
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i like to think about some stoic, big cocked man, grinding up against your stomach. leaking precum all over you, smearing it with his fat heavy cock, okay? and he's begging to be inside of you, but you're a little mean and you like him like this. so you make him cum pathetically on your tummy. a weak, unsatisfying orgasm that has him whimpering and his hips stuttering because he needs more. and it's ruined, but it's so good that he does it again. okay?
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cheridraws · 1 year
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Does this count as self-reflection…?
[ID: Mob Psycho 100 fanart redrawing a frame from OP 3. Reigen sits below a tall window with moss growing along its frame, holding a smoking cigarette and looking up. His silhouette stands on the other side of the window in an orange glow and looks back down at him. End ID]
Credit for the ID
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meadow-moth · 15 days
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Y'all asked for it
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Dress + sketch under the cut
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There's a bunch more sketches cause I was trying to figure out how his body worked so let me know if you wanna see it
@supmaww
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flowercrowngods · 1 year
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in which steve is sick, eddie is in love, and floor time is being had
Eddie is in the kitchen when he hears the sound of footsteps approaching him. The smile is on his face before he even turns around to catch a glimpse of Steve, gloriously disheveled from all that sleep he’s been catching up on. He’s wearing one of Eddie’s big, fuzzy sweaters that Steve always hogs when he’s sick — which, thankfully, isn’t all that often —, a thick pair of sweats and mismatched socks.
Sickness is the time to wear mismatched socks without judgment, Edwin Munswin, Steve had huffed the first time Eddie saw him with a runny nose and ridiculous socks that definitely didn’t belong together. It had been the first time he admitted to himself that he was absolutely gone for Steve Runny Nose Harrington.
And so it doesn’t come as a surprise to him that his heart stumbles in his chest and the smile on his lips widens. Steve might hate being sick, but Eddie can’t really help but love him even more when he gets like this. When Steve allows himself to be a little weak and for Eddie to take care of him.
“Hi, sunshine,” Eddie says, turning down the heat on the stove to go over to his Stevie, wrapping his arms around the blanket Steve still has around his shoulders. “Sleep well?”
“Mmh.” It’s nothing more than a raspy grunt, a pathetic little noise as Steve cuddles further into Eddie, seeking out his warmth and comfort so freely that Eddie presses a kiss to his slightly sweaty forehead. “Missed you.”
“I’m right here,” he promises, running a hand up and down Steve’s back. “Just made you tea while the soup is warming up. Because you’re gonna have to eat.”
“Okay,” Steve nods, sounding solemn as he does, and Eddie wants to laugh. Gods, he’s so in love, it’s disgusting. Ridiculous. Absolutely laughable. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” A whisper, another promise, another kiss. He unwinds his arms and looks back at the giant pot of soup he made yesterday. “Do you wanna go back to bed or stay here?”
“Here,” Steve sighs and promptly sinks down the counter until he’s sitting on the floor, looking up at Eddie with those beautiful brown eyes, so big and and full of love that Eddie can’t resist ruffling his hair, which earns him a little giggle from Steve.
Oh, right, he’s had the good stuff prescribed from the doctor. This is going to be fun in a few hours.
“You ridiculous man,” Eddie murmurs, trailing his hand from the crown of Steve’s head down across his cheek all the way to his chin in a gentle caress.
“Go back to your soup, you most ridiculous of men,” Steve says in retaliation, but he reaches for his hand to hold as Eddie returns to the stove.
“Technically it’s your soup.”
“That’s what I said.” Eddie looks down to see the most adorable of frowns on Steve’s head, and his heart explodes a little in his chest.
He snorts and squeezes Steve’s hand. “Sure is, baby.”
“See? I’m smart sometimes.”
“No argument from me there,” Eddie says, and he means it.
A hum comes from Steve and then he leans his head against Eddie’s leg. “You’re so nice to me, Eds. I like that you’re nice to me.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
And then it’s quiet, and the weight of Steve against his leg becomes heavier by the second to the point where Eddie is pretty sure Steve’s fallen asleep again. He doesn’t dare to move, but dear God he wants to laugh, he wants to cry, wants to scream at the world how much he loves this ridiculous, adorable, possibly delirious and high on cold medication man who is wrapped in his blanket on their kitchen floor.
“Stevie,” he whispers at last, the soup hot, the tea just cool enough, and cards his hand through Steve’s hair to wake him. “Sunshine, wake up, I have soup for you.”
“Soup?”
“Soup.”
“But I love soup.”
“Then I have great news for you,” Eddie laughs and tilts Steve’s head up so he’ll meet his eyes. “It’s plenty, it’s warm, and you can have some. It’s right here.”
“You made me soup?”
“Yeah, babe,” Eddie chuckles, his heart tearing itself apart at the way Stevie looks up at him with such wonder and awe and love. “I made you so much soup. All for you.”
Steve nods, thinks for a moment and then looks up at Eddie again. “Can we share?”
“You wanna share your soup with me?” Eddie says, crouching down so he’s on eye level with Steve and can brush a kiss to his forehead again.
Steve nods again and reaches for him, clinging to Eddie’s sweater — well, it’s Steve’s technically. “Wanna share everything with you.“
“Even your blanket?”
Steve smiles and nods again, lifting one arm to invite Eddie in, which earns him a laugh. “Alright, let me just…”
He grabs two bowls of soup, Steve’s large mug of tea, two spoons and two pillows from their chairs so they can eat the soup on the floor without uncomfortable heat in their laps.
Later, when soup is but a distant memory of half an hour ago, Steve lets himself fall to the side and slumps into Eddie, head nestled on his shoulder.
“Sleep time again?” Eddie asks.
“No,” Steve slurs, definitely already on his way to half asleep. “Just. Just love you.”
Eddie hums and leans into Steve in return, warm underneath their blanket, surprisingly comfortable on the floor, backs against the counter. “Just love you, too, sunshine.”
And if Eddie closes his eyes, too, lulled into a sleepy state of comfort and warmth, then that’s just one more thing that happens with a sick Steve around.
In sickness and in health, he thinks with that same smile on his lips.
for @seidenbros, i besmooch your forehead with this 🌷🤍
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scificrows · 6 months
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The feed ID doesn’t need to say anything other than what everyone else’s says, just name, gender, and…” She trailed off. She was looking at me and I was looking at her. - Martha Wells, Fugitive Telemetry (The Murderbot art I used is the official cover art from the French edition of ASR)
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summerlycoris · 4 months
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Puhpandas had a great idea recently (glitchtrapped Tony.) And I wanted to take a stab at the concept.
More specifically at the "What happens after." bit. Hint- Tony gets lost and ends up back near his old house.
Under a readmore because it could be triggering if you've been physically assaulted before. There's feelings in this that could touch on nerves.
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He'd traced his steps, along a familiar road. Now he stood on the street, facing his old house. He felt all dazed, and confused.
Why?
Everything hurt- his back, his stomach, his neck, his arms. And something bad had happened to him. His head ached, but not nearly as much as his heart ached. 
'... Because it's not my home, it's their home, and I'm wanted no more…'
He couldn't go home. Because it wasn't his home anymore. It was someone else's now. He couldn't remember how to get to his Grandma's from here. He couldn't remember a lot of things.
(He didn't want to remember.)
What had happened? He'd gone to the pizzaplex? Gregory had been there? 
Did someone jump me on the way home?
He knew what really happened. But he couldn't believe it- didn't believe it- it hurt too much- He could feel something poking around inside his mind. Something he'd been trying to ignore. 
He didn't cry. Or sob. He just hurt. 
Get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head-
He was on the swings suddenly, in the park that sat down between their street, and the next street over. He hummed a song absent-mindedly. One of those old songs that Grandma would play on her old record player. A song that his Mom sometimes sang along to.
I'm missing time? Did I got abducted by aliens?
Ellis would laugh with him about it next week, when they'd meet up at school again.
They used to play here a lot, when they were in elementary school together. Pretending the playground was a pirate ship. That the floor was a crocodile infested river- so you'd have to jump from circle to circle, never landing on the soft blue floor. Making the merry-go-round spin so fast, that they both would get thrown off it after a dizzy spell, and collapse to the ground laughing and carrying on-
It just made his heart ache more. His brain pounding against his skull.
He kicked his legs uselessly. He wasn't swinging. Not really. Just sitting. Just trying not to be still. He wasn't going anywhere.
The playground didn't have any lights that stayed on at night. It wasn't that kind of playground, where you'd need to worry about teens going there and doing bad things in the dark. This was a good part of town. Nothing bad could happen here. 
The only lights were distant street lamps, and the starlight filtering down.
What time is it?
Tony had a watch. Had a watch- it was missing now. So was his entry pass to the pizzaplex.
Did someone mug me?
He also had a different shirt than he'd worn to school- a Bonnie longsleeve? Hadn't they stopped selling these? Where did he get it?
Did someone… reverse mug me??
The sun was starting to rise in the distance. He could understand why they'd given him a new shirt- his old one. That had... gotten stained, hadn't it?
How long have I been here?
His arms and belly felt weird. He lifted his shirt and sleeves to look at them. Well... He wasn't gonna stain his new shirt, at least. He stopped looking- it just made him feel queasy.
Lights were coming on in the houses, one by one. He could see a light on over at Ellis's house, through the back yard. 
He could go there. And they could have breakfast together. They could pretend they'd had a sleepover together, like old times. Ellis could loan him a sleeping bag. A watch. A new head. And nothing bad would have happened to him and there would be nothing weird poking around in his head and his heart would stop aching and-
And Ellis's Mom was there. Standing in front of him.
How long has she been there?
He started a little, nearly falling backwards before clutching the chains tighter. 
"Tony- It's okay. It's Olivia, do you remember me?" She had her hands in front of her, in a way that should probably have been calming. 
He caught his breath, and felt panic start to ease out of him. He nodded. And she seemed to relax a little, too. 
"Oh, good. Sweetie- listen. I've rang your Mom. She's on her way now. And so are the police. Okay?" She looked at him intently, and kneeled down in front of him. While he kicked his legs and stared off into the distant sky. The stars were going out.
"Tony? Did you hear me?"
"Um. Yes. Sorry Mrs Martinez." 
He couldn't look at her. This is so embarrassing. Having to be picked up by his Mom like this. Had he and Ellis broken another vase trying to play skip rope indoors? That was a silly thing to do, Tony. You know better-
He could feel her eyes looking through him. 
"Do you… want to talk about it, sweetie?"
He shook his head frantically, and choked out "No- no- no-"
"Hey, sweetie. It's okay. You're okay now. Everyone was so worried about you…" 
Why?
She looked at him so pitifully. Had he said that out loud?
A car pulled up, on his old street. A familiar car. Mom's car. 
And she was there. So quick, he'd barely seen her race up to him. He thought she'd grab him, and swing him around in a spinney-hug. She used to do that, when he was little. 
Instead she stopped next to Mrs Martinez. It looked like she'd been crying earlier. She was still crying. 
His head kept hurting. Pounding in a rhythm now. He couldn't take it much longer-
She couldn't get any words out. Mouth gaping open like a fish's would. But he could get the message- What happened to you?
He went to answer, but felt… sleepy. Really sleepy. He was gonna fall off this swing any second-
But he didn't fall. Instead he heard his voice talking to his Mom. It sounded strange to him. Like he was listening underwater…
"Mom, I… I lost track of time at the pizzaplex. It got dark, and someone h-hurt me when I was walking home… please don't be mad…"
He went to sleep as Mom pulled his imposter into a hug.
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noirrelite · 5 months
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assorted older warframe stuff dot jpeg (with some touch ups) also old sierra fashion
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riddlerosehearts · 11 months
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list of acd canon sherlock holmes things i absolutely love
(and am going to mostly put under a readmore because i made most of this list while rereading the entire canon so it is very long! listen i just think sherlock holmes is the best character ever and i need to share my love for him--)
immediately upon being introduced to watson he grabs him by the sleeve, starts excitedly showing off his bloodstain testing experiment, and claps his hands “looking as delighted as a child with a new toy”. once he finishes, his eyes glitter and he puts his hand on his heart and bows “as if to some applauding crowd conjured up by his imagination”.
watson: “i object to rows because my nerves are shaken”
holmes: “do you include violin playing in your category of rows?” he asked, anxiously
he’s noted to be extraordinarily knowledgeable and zealous in his studies, and yet on the same page it’s stated that he doesn’t know the earth travels around the sun and once watson tells him about it he immediately decides to forget about it because it’s not relevant to his work. this is where the famous “brain attic” monologue comes in.
watson writes this list about him and then throws it into the fire in despair:
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has a habit of laughing in a way that’s described as bursting into an “explosion” or “roar” of laughter
frequently does this at crime scenes:
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enlists a gang of street orphans to help him on his cases, pays them for their work, and generally treats them as equals but also playfully talks to them like a general to his soldiers
plays the violin for watson to help him get to sleep
is incredibly knowledgable on anything from different types of tobacco, to the ways one's trade can influence the form of their hands, to medieval pottery and stradivarus violins. and yet, i reiterate, does not know the earth revolves around the sun.
has a tendency of waxing poetic about the meaningless of existence, particularly when he’s bored from not having any cases to work on
once said about a dog “i would rather have toby’s help than that of the whole detective force of london”
used the word “doggy” when speaking to toby
once told watson “i don’t wish to be theatrical” despite all evidence to the contrary
disguises himself as an old man just to play a prank on watson
watson: “i think i had better go”
holmes: “not at all, doctor. stay where you are. i am lost without my boswell.”
is known to wiggle in his chair when he gets excited about a case
discovers that a man has tricked his own stepdaughter into a fake marriage so he can keep her at home and control her life and inheritance. acknowledges that said man hasn’t done anything illegal but still tells him “there never was a man who deserved punishment more” and that he ought to get whipped for what he did, and then goes to actually get his hunting crop, causing the man to run out the door at top speed
let a criminal go free because it turned out the man he murdered was trying to force said criminal’s daughter into an unwanted marriage
was suddenly made to participate in the wedding of someone he was tracking for a case, came home and laughed about it for several minutes, exclaimed “well, really!”, laughed for several more minutes, and only then did he actually tell watson what happened
responds to the king of bohemia insulting irene adler and saying she’s not on his level by saying coldly: “from what i have seen of the lady, she seems indeed to be on a very different level to your majesty”, which is basically him saying “actually she’s way better than you, so fuck off”
refused to shake said king’s hand
built a pillow fort in a client’s house so he could think better
let a poor jewel thief go because he cried, because it was christmas and therefore it was the season of forgiveness, and because the case was really easy anyway so it’s not his fault if the police are too stupid to solve it themselves
always reassures clients that they can trust him and watson and speak freely around them
is willing to waive his fee for clients who can’t afford to pay him, because according to him his profession is its own reward
this entire scene from speckled band when he gets confronted by his client’s abusive stepfather:
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this nice little example of the gentleness he often displays with his clients:
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the adventure of the copper beeches. just, all of it. a woman he doesn’t know comes to holmes for advice about a potential job she’s interviewed for and they both agree it sounds incredibly sketchy, she says she’s gonna take it anyway because she needs the money, and he’s like “well i wouldn’t want any sister of mine doing something like this but FINE i guess, just please write to us and let us know if you’re okay and if anything bad happens we’ll drop everything and come help you immediately”, and then the job does in fact turn out to be super sketchy and they drop everything and get on a train as soon as she writes to them
sometimes spends several hours out on walks through the park or the town with watson just relaxing and talking with him for the sake of it, despite watson frequently noting that holmes doesn’t have much appreciation for nature
“we have had the good fortune to bring peace to many troubled souls. i trust that we may do the same for you,” he says “in his easy, genial way” to a potential client who’s clearly very upset and sleep-deprived
is completely wrong about a particular case and asks watson to remind him of that case next time he gets overconfident
is noted by watson to be very neat and methodical in his methods and way of dress, while simultaneously being one of the messiest people ever who keeps his tobacco inside a persian slipper and his unopened letters held up by a knife in the center of his mantelpiece, keeps tons of criminal relics which apparently somehow end up in the butter dish sometimes, and keeps countless stacks of papers and documents all over the place
tells watson anecdotes about his past just to avoid cleaning up said documents
deliberately knocks over a table, shattering a glass fruit bowl which then sends oranges rolling all over the room, and then blames it on watson and runs away
says snarky things like “when gregson or lestrade are out of their depth–which, by the way, is their normal state” and “you’ve done very well, watson! it’s too bad you’ve missed everything of importance”
laughs when watson suggests he’s being modest about his abilities
picked up a rose and got all sappy and poetic about it
more specifically, picked up a rose and said that religion can be a science which involves a lot of careful deduction, and that flowers are a source of hope and proof of the goodness of god due to the fact that they aren’t a necessary part of life but are still so beautiful anyway
recovered an incredibly valuable government treaty for a client and had it served to him on a platter at breakfast because, in his own words, he “never can resist a touch of the dramatic”
faked his death and then revealed to watson that he was still alive in a manner that even he admitted was unnecessarily dramatic
had a full-scale wax model of himself created and used it to fool his enemies
made a diagram out of breadcrumbs to explain something to watson
broke into a blackmailer’s house for a case because he believed it to be morally justifiable, and admitted that he always thought he might make a good criminal
held watson’s hand while they were burgling said house together
twice
allowed said blackmailer to be murdered in front of him by one of his victims and then refused to take the case when asked because he just hated the guy that much
“flushed up with pleasure” when watson complimented him
asked watson to sell his medical practice and move back into 221b with him after the death of his wife. and then secretly gave a relative of his a ton of money to buy watson’s medical practice at the highest price watson would ask for, just so they could live together again
was nearly brought to tears by lestrade saying he was proud of him
let a dog lead him around on a case, multiple times in different stories
was very gentle with a client who he knew to be the victim of an abusive marriage and allowed the man who killed her husband to go free out of sympathy for their situation
noticed watson looking sad and touching his war wound and tried to cheer him up by echoing his thoughts and providing a deduction of how he knew what he was thinking
mentioned watson’s sparkling eyes in said deduction
talked about nothing but violins and his favorite violinist for an hour while he and watson had lunch together
likes going to classical music concerts and getting lost in the music
does scrapbooking
chuckles and rubs his hands together when he’s happy
this:
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takes getting called "the devil himself" as a compliment
let a killer go because he had only killed in retaliation for the unjust murder of his lover, and holmes felt that he might’ve done the same if someone were to kill the woman he loved
on a completely unrelated note tells a guy who shoots watson “if you had killed watson you would not have got out of this room alive”
also reacted like this when watson got shot:
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went undercover to supposedly give a guy secret government intelligence documents, and then gave him a book about bees instead
frequently disguised himself either for cases or just to fool watson and was noted to be a great actor
once disguised himself as an old woman with a parasol
tried the best he could to talk a young woman out of marrying a man who had a history of “collecting” women for sport and destroying their lives, and admitted to watson that he thought of her as he would think of his own daughter
was prone to “imp-like moods”
sent watson a message to come over at once ("if convenient--if inconvenient come all the same") just so he could infodump to him about dogs
wasn’t surprised that a dog died of grief shortly after its owner’s death, because of “the beautiful, faithful nature of dogs”
listened with great sympathy to a depressed woman who wanted to tell him her tragic story, picked up on hints that she was planning to commit suicide, talked her out of it by convincing her that her life does have value and then called her brave for choosing to live
got lost in thought looking out the window at the publicly funded elementary schools and randomly went on about how he believes they and the children who attend them are beacons of a brighter future
made hot cocoa for watson
shook hands with a baby
retired to the countryside to live on a farm and become a beekeeper.
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myfairkatiecat · 3 months
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Psychologist really went “yes, adhd is what I would call this. But I don’t believe in labels so I’m just going to not diagnose you so colleges won’t have to know :) you can still come to therapy every week though so I can help you learn to turn your adhd into something good!”
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