#john posts

[consult-johnhwatson]

Many New Beginnings

I hardly feel I deserve so many. Multiple times in my life have I made some truly, awful, mistakes. In the past I always found myself trailing after Sherlock, and being fulfilled in ways I never thought would be possible again after Afghanistan. The very first time I was caught up in the shadow that was Sherlock, I ended up following after him - after he continuously abandoned me! I might add - only to save his arse.

So, for a long time, our relationship was as follows; He might give me a vague hint on where he would dash off to next, I'd scurry to catch up, only to find if he would have waited for me or communicate with me, the situation would have went far smoother!

I'm not sure when it started changing, or originally. If I had to pin point, it might have been around the time we first got up close and personal with a Mr. Jim Moriarty.

Sherlock must have realized, the value in communication. Something that, on surface level we managed well. On a deeper level, you've all seen us struggle with ourselves emotionally. We only grew closer, until-

The fall, everyone loves to dub it.

I had fallen into such devastation by this betrayal of trust and communication, the only thing I felt I could once trust in Sherlock, I simply forgot that this man was suffering the same as I was. That he was completely alone for those two years as well.

Only, I wasn't truly alone. I met Mary, and I would not be here today without her. I know that. So would it be a crime when I say to keep it polite about her? I loved her and she was my life. Just as much as Sherlock is my life.

Sherlock forced me to accept his apology that day in the train, but it was as genuine as I can be. This anger's always been so hard to ignore, it would come out at Mary, and it's only grown over time. Sherlock would always try to communicate, he always spoke to me. Even if it was something so unbelievable, I trusted him. For awhile, he understood. He couldn't run off without me.

This was years ago still. I know it all started declining after... Well, Culverton Smith. I wonder if I properly wrote up that case, there was so much we would love to have forgotten. Sherlock and I.

I almost lost him, and not only by the hand of Mr. Smith.

Our relationship since, has been rocky at best. I never gave up, and in his own ways neither did he. Somewhere, we fell back into this dynamic. He runs off without me, and I let him. Neither of us would have been able to tell you who started it, but relationships are 50/50, you know.

When I finally had, so hesitatingly, just gotten this relationship? I wasn't prepared, but I'd have been out of my mind to not accept what we'd always worked on wanting.

Only to see him run off with Mr. Jim Moriarty, the man who single handedly started our path of love and destruction. The fall is a sore subject, a raw wound barely treated. I was so overwhelmed with - I wasn't there to protect him! - danger, betrayal, mistrust, lack of communication, all over again!

I said and did things that are unacceptable, and I'll be remorseful for them for as long as I live. This anger, I can't guarantee I'll get rid of it completely, and I've found I was in need of professional help in this regard. It may still come out, but I am working on this. We are working on this. I am working on making sure this will not be a repeated event; but this includes working on the communication between Sherlock and I again.

I stepped back to work on this, on myself, but now I am willing to open up and look back on this space. Where we can go forward, together, in this new time. I hope that, while it's not been a long amount of time, but two months away from this all has really helped thus far. I'm happy to be back here with you, and to grow by Sherlock's side once more.

[beingharsh]

"John Waters Is Ready for His Hollywood Closeup", The New Yorker

[sherpawhale]

There's an auction to support the Motion Picture and Television Fund for healthcare for those striking in Hollywood and there's the usual Zooms and dinners with actors, but some of the biddable items are absolutely unreal in the best way

[sennave]

me when im stuck at home?

[eznii]

literally unbelievable that its been 15 years 😭😭😭

[stalebagels]

Edit: muted this monstrosity but if you're looking for the blank template it's on my blog and I'll tag this and it with "the stupid fucking shorts post" so you don't have to scroll through everything 💀😂 (I did not make the template btw, I don't know who the OP is but if you do please let me know)

[zivazivc]

I feel like I have some of the most random headcanons. but I am lowkey obsessed with the fact that John Dory is so much older than Branch that he potentially could have dated their friends'/peers' parents, and/or anything else funny and possibly entertaining that the large age difference entails lmaokskssbcdsbcjdh

edit: part two

[bruciemilf]

As a reward for helping with a problem, John Constantine wants to give Bruce a chance to talk to his parents. “I can only do one at a time, thought, so, who’s first?”

Bruce sweats, “That won’t be necessary.”

The batkids watch like ??? they’ve seen Bruce in every state a man could succumb and raise, but they’ve never seen him scared. Alfred calmly steps forward, “Please do.”

“No. Don’t.”

John “I don’t want peace, I want trouble, always” Constantine smells some opportunity for chaos and grabs it.

The result of that is the very angry spirit of Thomas Wayne fixing Bruce with the glare of the year, “You dropped oUT OF MED SCHOOL?!” The entire mansion seems to tremble.

Bruce yelps like a scolded cat and runs around the dining table, “I was busy with BATMAN—“

“ Che cazzo è un Batman, — Get back here! You were there a year, — Che cazzo fai, CHE CAZZO FAI?! Pack your bags, you’re going back.”

To the batkids’ absolute horror Bruce starts to cry, face watery and bright, and they finally understand what Alfred meant by tantrums. “Non voglio tornare indietro, papà!”

“Non mi interessa, cazzo, — wait till your mother hears about this, Harley graduated with HONORS. What exemple are you giving to my grandkids? Don’t — Don’t run, GET BACK HERE!”

Tim sweats in high school dropout, Dick sweats in cop, Jason sweats in drug lord, Damian sweats in art kid, and Stephanie just sweats in general.

“Should, uh… Should we help?”

“Are you kidding? I haven’t seen Jason this happy since the Queen died.”

[ultravioletness]

I’ve been making gay knights (and ladies) collages on my phone at work

(Part two)

[contact-guy]

This is part of a series, read these first! (pt 1) (pt 2) (pt 3) (pt 4)(pt 5) (pt 6)

HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES part 7 - man of action

this is part of the Watson's sketchbook series!

(slight nsfw under the cut)

[tomiyeee]

[ave661]

[crestapex]

Price: What kind of girl do you prefer?

Ghost: My wife.

Price: Now what kind of girl do you prefer?

Soap: Ghost’s wife.

[bluegiragi]

christmas miracle.

early access + nsfw on patreon

--

This comic was shamelessly inspired by tender by prettyunhinged on ao3. go ahead and leave the original author a comment and kudos if you haven't already!!

[averageartisan]

a boy and his friends and a game they play together

[oceantornadoo]

gn reader, tw: body and food talk, ghost isn’t super nice to himself but you’re nice enough for the both of you

“where’s the rest of your food?” you nodded to ghost’s plate, laden with one chicken breast and a couple of vegetables from the mess hall. he stopped short in the hallway, trying to control his blush even though he was wearing his usual balaclava. you looked at him curiously. he got lost in the warmth of your eyes that showed genuine concern about his food, scrutinizing his plate.

“‘m on a cut.” he grumbled, gravelly voice at odds with his thoughts. you looked down and fuck, he had gotten it all wrong. he had been too gruff, like a fumbling kid talking to his crush on the playground. you tilted your head back quickly, now armed with a cheeky grin, and he almost let out a breath of relief at the sight. stupid simon, he’d almost messed it up, but you always gave him unending grace. “why? i like you big.” you started walking, nudging his shoulder in a silent goodbye. he was rooted in place, his legs like concrete as he replayed your words. you liked him big.

“thought you were on a cut, l.t.?” soap asked the next day, in line with ghost who was currently loading up on carbs and protein. “little birdie told me they liked me big.” he meant to say it in a whisper, but somehow you heard. at the front of the line, you whipped your head around fast, sending a secret smile just for him. fuck it was worth it, even if he felt too large for the room sometimes. simon would never cut again if he could see that smile. you ducked your head, suddenly shy. you couldn’t believe your l.t. took your words to heart that much. maybe there was something more in all those glances he gave you when he thought you weren’t looking.