Prompts: its Molly's bday and she's planned to happily spend it wid wine, toby and Twelve. Sherlock disagrees.
Silly domestic fluff thing, with a little bit of mature content.
Constricted within the confines of a laptop screen, Sherlock Holmes glowered. Setting him down on the kitchen table, Molly busied herself with opening a bottle of wine. It wasn’t the cheapest wine around (Sherlock’s influence) but it also wasn’t the most expensive (her stubbornness), and more than good enough for an evening’s company.
“What year?” Sherlock asked, glancing at the bottle.
“No idea. Not like I’m holding a dinner party.”
“You should be.”
“I don’t want to,” Molly said brightly. Toby, leaping up to the kitchen worktop, rubbed at her palm. She duly stroked the length of his back. He purred loudly. Molly sipped at her glass, glancing at her laptop.
“A television show, a furball—” Mreow, came Toby’s protest, “and wine. For a birthday?”
Whenever Mycroft starts to feel suffocated by his relationship with Greg he tells Greg about his government cases instead of Sherlock. While Greg is off solving the complicated investigations Mycroft takes care of himself. Then when Greg is done with them Mycroft is refreshed and more passionate than ever.
So, in light of everything that’s happened lately in a certain someone’s life, which I won’t be expanding on, I’d like to give some reassurance where I can. I’m dedicated to keeping this blog clear of conflict since people have differing opinions and I respect all of them.
I was inspired by a post in which @welovethebeekeeper addressed this issue. I’ve had a few followers who have become distracted as I have and I want to tell you that it’s okay. For a week, I’ve been so caught up in what’s been happening with the actors and trolling tumblr that I haven’t read and written anything to do with fanfiction. I admit that some things I read left me with a desire to stop with the fandom altogether.
Because I’m a Johnlock lover all the way, I’d experienced moments of guilt for enjoying the fandom. We are often scorned and ridiculed by not only casual viewers but the actors themselves and it can start to chafe. I was ready to give up, but then I scrolled down my feed and saw all the Johnlock moments immortalized in gifs and stills, the looks and clues and remembered. This was what I fell in love with! These two flawed, beautiful characters and how far they’ve come.
You just cannot give up before January! Sherlockians, TJLCers, friends: We’ve waited long enough for this. Don’t give up hope and don’t lose sight of what drew us to this wonderful show. Celebrities will do what they do and they should. They’re only human, but they are not their characters and we shouldn’t hold them to that standard. Unfollow some blogs, block some people if you have to, but it’s time to get back to the basics.
Can we just please talk about Sherlock’s expressions in these scenes? Please?
These are unedited screencaps, so they’re exactly the way he looks in those scenes. I’m pretty sure any Sherlock fan (more importantly, any Adlock fan) can recognize these scenes, but if you don’t, I’ll remind you.
The first scene is after Sherlock finds out Irene Adler is “dead” and thinks she left him a clue to her phone’s passcode in John’s faulty blog counter. He’s playing the violin, seemingly unaffected, then when he thinks there’s a possibility Irene is alive, or at least has left him a clue, he gets so excited, it rouses him out of his stupor. But when he puts in the passcode and it’s wrong, and he realizes it’s not a brilliant clue, and she’s still “dead”, this is his expression. I mean, look at the man’s face: it’s the face of utter devastation concealed by apathy. Because he’s Sherlock Holmes, and he doesn’t feel things, so when he’s disappointed, he reacts by overcompensating and draining all emotion from his face to conceal the fact that he’s utterly let down (especially since John is in the room, and he maintains his god-like persona around John). It’s the face you make when you get your hopes up so high, only to have them crashing down around your ears, but you don’t want to lose your composure.
The second scene is so telling, it has to be in gif form to be appreciated in its entirety. It’s right when Sherlock gets back to Baker Street from the morgue, where he has just confirmed Irene Adler’s “death”. Keep in mind, he was just in Baker Street a few scenes ago for the Christmas party, and he was wearing nothing close to this expression. The only thing that’s significantly changed between the party and this scene is his knowledge of Irene’s “death”. But in this scene, he’s just stepped back into Baker Street for the first time since then, and his expression has changed completely. Instead of his usual arrogant air, he seems almost… lost… He has to look around Baker St as if it’s changed, as if he doesn’t recognize the place. As if the world has changed since he found out that Irene Adler is no longer part of it. I mean, you don’t usually get a look like that when you walk into your home on an ordinary day, do you?
The third scene is in the jumbo jet when he’s just found out that Irene played him. He first reacts with disbelief when Mycroft suggests the idea to him, but when Irene appears and confirms it – and to rub it in, casually dismisses him for Mycroft – this is his expression. There’s still disbelief, but for the first time, he doesn’t scoff at the idea, because she’s just cruelly confirmed it.. he looks as if he doesn’t quite believe she had done that to him. And then there’s the confusion, which, for someone like Sherlock Holmes is extraordinary. The mental sorting of the timeline and events to fit them into this new development. And then there’s the burgeoning pain of rejection and betrayal. The idea hasn’t quite sunk in yet, but the emotions are already there. The revelation is new and devastating, so he hasn’t had time or the preparation to school his features into apathy yet.
So… I’ll leave you to your own deductions.
Sorry for the long post, but I felt this needed to be said. Benedict Cumberbatch is such a talented actor that he can portray all these emotions (with perfect timing) in the limited expressions Sherlock allows himself.