#john posts

[egbluh]

holding onto the remains of my innocence.

[john-macnamara]

I’m bored. AMA

[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.

[sunriseovergotham]

characters have to be a little bit awful in ways that you cant defend. its good for the ecosystem. your honor he did do that. He did in fact do that

[lapetitepatisserie]

cod × fem!reader ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩

The familiar sound of keys in the door alerted you to your husband’s return.

“My love?” he called, looking for you, boots making heavy footsteps as he made his way towards you and your child. His eyes soften once they land on you and your baby girl.

“How’s my princess?” he drawls, voice deep with exhaustion from work.

You look down at the child sitting in your lap, occupied with trying to fit a chubby foot into her mouth. A steady finger reaches underneath your chin, lifting it to meet his warm, intense gaze.

“I’m talking about this one.”

[keyboardtennis]

me when im stuck at home?

[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.”

[keplerspacecraftofficial]

electing to believe this is what griddlehark looks like to everyone else

[l3irdl3rain]

someday i'll see you all again, but in the mean time I'll be collecting some new old friends

[beingharsh]

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

[eznii]

literally unbelievable that its been 15 years 😭😭😭

[egbluh]

[john-macnamara]

Watching the new she-ra because I loved the old one and that one episode in season five is making me think about things I don’t want to.

Also the art is beautiful and this show’s actually great. 10/10.

[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

[bluegiragi]

only one slasher's allowed in these woods…

early access + nsfw on patreon

[majinbangus]

You've always wanted a dog. It doesn't matter what kind, you'd be happy with any, but no matter how much discussion, Soap never budges, holding the exact opposite opinion about dogs. Which you understand given his experiences with them, but it's still a little disappointing.

Until he compromises one day under the condition he gets to choose the dog. Specifically a guard dog, in his words. One he's known and worked with multiple times. One he trusts to take care of his sweet lass. One that will protect.

You get so excited, you buy the collar and everything, eagerly waiting the day Soap is coming home with the dog... only to be confused when Ghost walks in behind him, no dog in sight.

"Uh, hi, Simon?" You peek around the man. Perhaps the dog is hidden behind the man's massive frame. It's not. "Don't take this the wrong way, but what are you doing here?" You shoot Soap a confused look. "And where's the dog you promised me?"

Soap chuckles at your confusion. "He's right here, sweetheart." He pats Ghost's shoulder, and the man takes one big step closer to you, closing the gap within that single stride. The shadow he casts somehow makes him look larger. "You said you'd be happy with anything, and I got you the best one! Ghost'll do anything you say—sit, stay, attack—you'll love him!"

You're not quite convinced. Can't lie and say you're not a little disappointed, but all thoughts of dissatisfaction are briefly forgotten when Ghost reaches down to grab your wrist, the one loosely holding the leather dog collar in hand, and undoes the buckle for you. He then guides your limp hands to slip it around his neck, adjusting it perfectly before letting your hands drop. When he pulls away, a shiver runs through you at the hungry gleam in his eyes, smirk evident in his voice.

"Woof."

You gulp. Maybe Soap is right. Maybe you will love him.