big ben (tower clock)

I that am lost, oh who will find me?
Deep down below the old beech tree.
Help succour me now the east winds blow.
Sixteen by six, brother, and under we go!

16 x 6 = 96

Elizabeth Tower, the new name of the Big Ben clock tower since 2012 (renamed for the Queen’s diamond jubilee) is 96 meters high…

It is listed in Mycroft’s notebook in TLD, presumably as one of Sherlock’s bolt holes or places to be monitored:

Pic pinched from @darlingtonsubstitution

In the Musgrave ritual, the treasure was hidden under the spot. What was hidden under Elizabeth Tower in TEH? A bomb.

Are we being told the same story over and over again? That Sherlock has to save himself (aka England)? Or John? 

Frozen Love (Jack Frost x Reader) Part II

Jack flew over to Big Ben, looking at the large clock tower. He had flown by the tower many times before, but this was the first time he saw it glowing. Under the moonlight, it let off a light yellow glow.

The sight was captivating, but it didn’t appear as if anyone other than him and the other guardians had seen it.

“(Y/N),” he muttered, feeling how the name slipped off his tongue. It felt almost natural, but for all he was aware of, he never recalled saying the name before. Even still, it held some sort of familiar comfort in it.

Landing on a nearby building, he looked around the clock tower in wonder. How did the teeth disappear? There had to be something going on with it…

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Still Human

Title: Still Human
Relationship: Widowmaker/Tracer “Widowtracer”
General Audiences

Inspired by @trixdraws comic New Years Eve. Thank you for giving me permission to work off it, I had a lot of fun writing this!


Amelie Lacroix knows she’s nothing more than a weapon now. But after the assassination in King’s Row, she realizes that the Overwatch agent Tracer made her feel human again. Amelie seeks her out again on New Year’s Eve to find out why that is.

“‘I’m not here for them, cherie.’…
‘Then for what?’ Lena asked, her voice beginning to lose its defiance…

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“Behind everything in London is something else, and, behind that, is something else still; and so on through the centuries, so that London as we see her is only the latest manifestation of other Londons, and to love her is to plunge into ancestor-worship.” —H. V. Morton, In Search of London (1951)