things I giggle about, love and enjoy.

2nd April 2014

Post reblogged from x^2+7x+53 with 18 notes

equalseleventhirds:

yazmineakram:

doubleoh-q:

yazmineakram:

talk to me about sally donovan dragging sherlock’s ass constantly

sherlock adopting a “black” accent when repeating something a black person said on a case and sally reminding him that she is both stronger than him and good friends with the man who keeps bringing him these cases

sally deep conditioning her hair for a half hour and sherlock making fun of her until she asks him very politely why his hair is so dry and stringy

this gives me fucking LIFE.

sally is the reason sherlock’s hair is so well-maintained when we actually reach canon

also sally taught sherlock to help her with her hair and this has helped him solve numerous cases

"You’re late," Sherlock says, holding up his cellphone with the clock displaying as Sally comes into sight, "I texted you over two hours ago."

"It’s my day off and I have stuff to do, including washing my hair."

All the pleasure of seeing her drops out of Sherlock’s face at her answer, and he turns and starts walking. Sally has to jog to catch up with him. He’s a little less visibly grumpy as she draws even with him and even volunteers an explanation for his reaction.

"That’s a disingenuous excuse. If you don’t wish to accompany me, you can just say so. Besides," Sherlock says as they stop at a crossing, eyeing her hair that’s been hurriedly twisted up, "you have medium length hair and the average time for washing hair that length is 40 minutes, including styling time."

"Not if I don’t want my hair to be dry and stringy like yours. Detangling and deep conditioning takes time. Something which you," Sally gives a pointed look at Sherlock, "obviously don’t understand."

Sherlock bristles at that, holding himself more stiffly for a moment before their light turns green and he starts walking with that exceptionally long stride of his.

"I bet you use two-in-one shampoo," Sally continues as they finish crossing. "And use enough to get a head full of foam. Conditioner, detangler, only shampooing your roots. If you took care of your hair you’d look much better."

"I would?" Sherlock asks, turning his head to look at her rather abruptly.

"Yeah, and don’t take that as a compliment," Sally says, teasing him and nudging his arm with hers until he offers it to her. He doesn’t shove his hands into his coat, so Sherlock being okay with her touching him like this means he isn’t too mad at her then.

They walk in companionable silence, heading into a quieter district of London with small cobbled streets. Turning down into an alley, they stop outside a renovated industrial building and Sherlock gestures for Sally to take point.

"I can teach you to deal with your hair later if you want," she offers, stepping up to the door, "and you can then help me when I next need deep conditioning. But first, let’s solve this case of yours.”

Tagged: I kept getting JLM's Sherlock's voice while writingand it's a weird time where they're friends and Sally's either in training for NSY or is a rookie officerand it's a rare good day for Sherlock toofanfiction

Source: orcabelly

8th February 2014

Post with 7 notes

but you can buy puppies, Herc/Stacker + Tamsin, Mako & Chuck, pre-canon

for this gifset and tags of Mako, a kind of continuation of Making Memories. Herc and Stacker are recently married. Max is a puppy. They go visit Tamsin.

The doctors aren’t too sure about letting the five of them in and Herc’s about to volunteer to stay outside with Max, but then Mako pulls out a folder from her backpack and presents relevant information from five different studies of the impact of animal-assisted therapy upon patient well-being as well as two other studies about the socialisation of patients in long term care. Tamsin’s doctors look at little stunned at the sudden barrage of information, but then Mako hands another folder from her backpack to Chuck and his son launches into a similar presentation of the positive effects domestic animals can have on immune systems, even compromised ones, as well as a full rundown of the benefits of the English bulldog breed in such situations.

They’ve obviously collaborated together on their research, and at the end of the ten minute long impromptu presentation almost every adult within hearing is stunned by the amount of information two thirteen year olds have presented in favour of allowing a puppy in to visit their aunt. (Except for Stacker, the unflappable bastard, but Herc can see he’s just about beaming with pride even as he lays his hands on the kids shoulders to stop them thrusting their respective folders into the doctors’ hands.)

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Tagged: team hot dadspacific rim fanfictionpacific rim ficmax the bulldogminionieryou're getting spoiled this weekfanfictionpacific rim: it's like evangelion but with less angst and more nakama

5th February 2014

Post with 1 note

"Who is this?" Natasha asks from the living room, and even from where he’s packing a bag two rooms away, he knows her fingers are trailing over the wooden frame of a photo.

A reply doesn’t come until Steve comes out of his bedroom, shield in its cover on his back and sliding his packed sports bag toward Natasha’s feet.

"Someone from the war," he says, his voice sounds tight and tired even to his ears, "someone long gone. Why?"
Natasha doesn’t follow him into the small kitchen. Instead she stays in the living room, still looking at the photo of Peggy on the side table.

"I– she seems familiar."

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Tagged: spies spies spiesminionierit's a lame Peggy-as-The-Winter-Soldier AUwith indulgent Americanised version of the Russian habit of taking tea with jamfanfiction

4th January 2014

Post reblogged from x^2+7x+53 with 10 notes

grassangel:

It’s a challenge to find the right amount of gums to add to the dough, and she just about gives up and resorts to a baking powder risen quickbread, but eventually Mary has a loaf that doesn’t fall apart. The crumb is a little tender but after use of the electric knife and toaster she can confidently set a plate of three pieces of toast in front of Sherlock.
She nods at his look after he sniffs at a slice, the smell of yeast and a bit of coconut wafting across the table.

"No wheat products," she confirms as Sherlock reaches for the butter.

A smile steals across Mary’s face in response to his as Sherlock takes his first bite of toast in five years.

(I still haven’t watched the episode, and probably won’t for at least a week, so details are a little off, but here, have MORE.)

There’s an abundance of baked goods at Baker Street now. Ms Hudson is pleased at that, thankful she doesn’t have to bring up her own biscuits from downstairs when she pops up for a chat and a cup of tea.

"I can never remember which ones to buy down at the shop for you. It’s so nice that Mary’s looking after you as well," she says after coming up to talk with him for a bit and standing at the top of the stairs in farewell.

"Yes it is," and it surprises Sherlock a little that he means it sincerely, that he’s happy and pleased and thankful that Mary bakes him bread and biscuits and little cakes and things he hasn’t been able to eat for years. He goes and slices himself some more bread from the honey and cider loaf after making sure Ms Hudson has made it safely down the stairs. 
It keeps him content for the rest of the afternoon, and in the evening he sends Mary a very short text message.

There’s a reply received half an hour later, but read several hours after that. It says: I’m glad you liked it :)

Mycroft however, isn’t nearly as pleased as Ms Hudson.
Sherlock has a smug sense of pride when he sets out the tea things when his brother comes to visit, the force of Mycroft’s restraint almost palpable as he abstains from having his share of the chocolate and almond biscotti. It’s admirable, but Sherlock cannot fathom why his brother would deprive himself of the pleasure of such things when they have such negligible consequences.

The extra is left out after Mycroft leaves. Sherlock doesn’t see much point in returning them to the tin if he’s going simply eat them later.

The delicacies come in with Mary when she visits. Sometimes she comes by herself, sometimes she tags along with John and sometimes John visits with Mary.

Today she’s alone. Today she has little buckwheat pancakes that can be filled with jam and cream cheese and whatever else Sherlock went out and bought when Mary had emailed him with what she planned to bring over.
It’s not something he’s been deprived of these past few years, blini still popular in more retro dining establishments, but it’s still nice how Mary presents the plate to him at the door, how she smiles as he takes his first bite and then helps herself to one as well.

The feeling of contentment lasts past when Sherlock goes to John and Mary’s place days later to return the plate and ask for John’s presence in an investigation.

Tagged: this has been the queuefanfiction

Source: grassangel

3rd January 2014

Post with 10 notes

It’s a challenge to find the right amount of gums to add to the dough, and she just about gives up and resorts to a baking powder risen quickbread, but eventually Mary has a loaf that doesn’t fall apart. The crumb is a little tender but after use of the electric knife and toaster she can confidently set a plate of three pieces of toast in front of Sherlock.
She nods at his look after he sniffs at a slice, the smell of yeast and a bit of coconut wafting across the table.

"No wheat products," she confirms as Sherlock reaches for the butter.

A smile steals across Mary’s face in response to his as Sherlock takes his first bite of toast in five years.

Tagged: equalseleventhirdsfanfiction

23rd November 2013

Post with 32 notes

making memories, Herc/Stacker, pre-canon

When the Justice asks if they want a picture, Mako answers yes for them and hands her camera over. They shuffle together awkwardly, rings just visible on their crossed arms. Stacker Pentecost and Hercules Hansen’s official wedding photo ends up looking like one of two friends who used to play rugby.

Mako unhappily scrolls through the photos after they leave the courthouse while Chuck peers over her shoulder. He doesn’t see anything wrong with their fathers’ pose but he’s a boy, and while on review Stacker and Herc are leaning into each other, it isn’t romantic enough for Mako.

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Tagged: minionierteam hot dadsI don't care I'm sending this to global tagspacific rim ficpacific rim: it's like evangelion but with less angst and more nakamafanfiction

12th September 2013

Post with 2 notes

Thank you fictionalfix for posting your favourite socks from Elementary and making me think that one of the other scheduled chores that Sherlock performs is picking up new socks. Because they either die a horrible death in the washing machine or get used in the furthering of Joan’s self-defense training. Have a ficlet.

——

On average it takes sixty-five seconds from the moment Joan steps into the brownstone to reach her bedroom, assuming that she isn’t delayed by a detour to the kitchen and doesn’t check in on him, and ten seconds to ten minutes for her to notice any books or materials he has placed within it for her edification. Today Joan notices the addition in fifteen seconds and, half a minute later and a total of a minute and fifty seconds after walking through the door, she appears at the sitting room entrance.

"Neon zebra stripe socks Sherlock, really?" He should have anticipated that she would bring them down with her, but Joan’s aim is getting better and they land squarely in his lap.

"We lose, on average, one sock per fortnight to the washing machine. Since we both abhor wearing mixed socks, thus condemning the odd ones to either be used as blackjacks or soft projectiles in our martial practise sessions, I got some new ones to make up for the ones lost since you moved in." Half of that she already knows; he’d asked if the bean- and rice-filled socks were an acceptable substitute for tennis balls two weeks ago.
"You haven’t complained about the stripy ones though," he points out, idly stripping the socks of their packaging and rolling them up.

"They’re normal stripes. Not neon pink zebra ones," Joan says, catching them easily enough when he aims at her and idly tossing them from hand to hand for a moment.

"If you want, you may swap the objectionable pairs for some of the striped ones I got for myself."

He probably deserves the face full of sock, since Joan has shown no appreciation for more ostentatious objects of clothing, but he’s pleased to know that it takes twenty-five seconds for Joan to reach his bedroom from the sitting room.

Tagged: fictionalfixminioniersince you care about these thingsfanfictionelementasqueeelementary

8th July 2013

Photoset reblogged from This is not a blog. No, seriously. with 11,748 notes

minionier:

Someone needs to write copious meta on why Mark Ruffalo decided that he needed to smile while he said “that’s my secret, Captain!”

Because I have just been staggered with many possibilities and I can’t decide which one I like best and my heart is hurting because Bannerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Earlier, he had almost told his secret to Ms. Romanova, who had faced him with wary eyes and her hand on her gun. The staff had been working its magic on him then, energy coiling into his veins and bringing his anger up to the surface, making him uncaring as to the presence of the others in the room. The entire incident ends up not mattering in the end, but it’s telling that even then he was willing to reveal his secret.

For all that Tony complains he is the only one to do his homework on everyone else, he wasn’t.

Bruce had done his reading too, went for extra credit and read between the lines of their files. Even the one on Steve Rogers; though there was never any doubt that he was one of the best men Earth had to offer. So Bruce knows he’s a good guy, one of those people who stands up for the kid on the wrong side of a bully’s fist, the man who was trusted with the heart of a nation and kept their hope safe.

Everyone brought in for the initiative is a good person, even when their files are written in red and blood puddles between lines that cross and double cross each other.

So when Steve– when Captain America calls him Doctor Banner on that ruined bridge, suggests that getting angry might be a good thing for once, Bruce decides to share his secret. It eases that feeling in his chest, not enough to lessen the anger nor be called happiness, but enough to make him smile as he tells the truth about himself.

It’s an ugly truth, all twisted and green and huge just like the Other Guy is - which is why he keeps it a secret and plays it close to his chest. It makes him no friends to let everyone know he’d otherwise be the Hulk all the time, that it’s just sheer will and desire not letting that anger show, to not be a reflection of his father. There are close to forty years worth of tangled hatred carried in Bruce’s heart, iron chains that weigh him down and make him even angrier that he can never escape his childhood.

Usually Bruce finds that Benjamin Franklin is right, that only the dead can keep a secret. He hopes that isn’t the case with the four people standing in front of him, despite that two only have their wits and weapons to protect them and a third is still human with easily torn limbs. 

But as he says those words, reveals that he’s always angry, a few of those chains drop away, clinking to the ground, and his secret feels safe with them. 

 A burden shared is a burden halved as the saying goes and Bruce starts to believe it might be true.

Later, when they’re eating shawarma, Hawkeye– Clint asks him if he really is angry all the time and he smiles and laughs and replies, “more or less”. There’s a silence around the table at that, which he breaks by continuing, “isn’t everybody?”. There’s a change in the quiet then, an undercurrent of agreement, and Bruce feels a little lighter still and knows he’s told his secret to the right people.

Tagged: gif ficAvengersfanfictiona thing i wrote

Source: loki-cat

14th April 2013

Photoset reblogged from I did it all for you with 65,661 notes

futurecastiels:

godisabitofabastard:

“The White & Black Knights” 1911 A1 .45 Autos
By Mike Dubber Engraving Studio

What if instead of angel blades the angels all had unique engraved guns? And these ones belonged to Michael and Lucifer? And somehow after the apocalypse Crowley got a hold of Michael’s black gun and was like, “This archangel gun matches my suit quite nicely.” And no one knows what happened to Lucifer’s gun, it just disappeared.

My mind slipped sideways to Good Omens and how a conversation in someone else’s fanfic set around the Eastern gate might have gone.

"You gave a flaming gun to the humansss?” Crawly hisses at Aziraphale as he slithers up his leg, seeking refuge from the rain now falling, “What were you thinking?”

"Well, they did look awfully cold with nothing but fig leaves. None of the creatures outside of the Garden are exactly friendly and they’ll be needing extra food soon enough. Don’t give me that look," Aziraphale says as Crawly slithers across his shoulders to stare at him with those slit snake eyes, "my grace will fade from it quickly enough and they’ll be left with a very fancy club to hit things over the head with."

"And what will you sssaaay when Himsself quesstionsss you asss to where your weapon isss?" the Serpent asks, coiling himself closer to the angel’s warmth.

"Well, I quite fancy I saw a serpent in the grass over there," Aziraphale waves his hand towards a patch of grass that, by most definitions, was not under the purview of the Guardian of the Eastern gate, "And as I was chasing it away, I must have tripped and lost it in the grass."

At the lazy glare the snake around his neck gives him he amends, “The rain put out the flames you see. Angelic weapons are mighty hard to find when they’re not on fire.”

"Whatever you sssaaay angel. I’m sssure you wouldn’t ssspeak a falsehood to your Lord." Crawly’s tongue flickers over the skin at Aziraphale’s collar as he replies before they both lapse into silence, Crawly dozing in the angel’s warmth while the Guardian of the East gate gazes over Earth and the two small figures in the distance as the first peal of thunder booms in the distance.

Tagged: fanfictiongood omensweaponry

Source: godisabitofabastard

2nd April 2013

Link with 6 notes

Fic: Five deductions that Sherlock Holmes messed up and one time he didn't even attempt to make one →

Sometimes, when it comes to Joan Watson, the deductions Holmes makes are utterly incorrect. Joan is somewhat vindictive at proving him wrong.

(Or: Holmes tries valiantly to impress Watson with his deductive reasoning, but she always ends up walking away and proving him wrong.)

PGish; 4k; Joan Watson/Original Female Character, Joan Watson & Sherlock Holmes; with guest appearance from a Harry Watson

Far too long to post to tumblr, but I do have extended author’s notes under the cut.

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Tagged: elementaryfanfictionminionierexcruciatingly complex headcanon backstory