Happy Birthday to the only consulting detective in the world! Happy birthday Mr Holmes.

Originally posted by longlivejohnlock

Originally posted by mycroftslittlebrother

Originally posted by sherlocked-to-holmes

Originally posted by shrlckholmes

Originally posted by slashiness

Originally posted by enerjax

Originally posted by soundsofmyuniverse

Originally posted by basinhounds

Originally posted by sir-mycroft

Dance With Me

Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler

When Rose has an anxiety fueled dream about a historical figure, the Doctor’s comfort takes an unexpected turn.

(read: unexpected literally only for him.)

Birthday fic for the lovely and adorable tinyconfusion and graciously looked over by rudennotgingr.  Happy Birthday, Jenny!

“Who is she?”

“Jeanne-Antoinette Poisson, known to her friends as Reinette. One of the most accomplished women who ever lived.”


“So, that Doctor, eh?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well. Madame de Pompadour. Sarah Jane Smith. Cleopatra.”

“Cleopatra. He mentioned her once.”

“Yeah, but he called her Cleo.”


“Are you okay?”

“No, I’m very afraid. But you and I both know, don’t we, Rose, the Doctor is worth the monsters.”


“We can’t fly the Tardis without him. How’s he going to get back?”


“Are you alright?”

“I’m always alright.”


Rose woke with a start and blinked tears out of her eyes, the Doctor’s heartbroken posture and expression still swimming in her vision, the very picture of loss.  After a few seconds, though, her sympathy started being drowned out by an intense rage at everything that happened in the dream before that, leading to that.

He’d left her and Mickey in a stupid abandoned spaceship for some french bird who had called Rose a child!  Of all the stupid…always had to show off, Rose knew that about him, but he left!  And just after saying that wouldn’t happen to her, too, the bloody liar.  Yeah, alright, maybe she wasn’t “one of the most accomplished women who ever lived”, but she bloody well deserved better than that!

A tiny voice in her head told her she was being ridiculous, that it was just a dream, but she ignored it as she shoved her covers aside and stomped out into the hall.  She’d had a niggling worry about the firmness of her relationship with the Doctor since the school, no matter how good of terms she’d ended on with Sarah Jane, and it felt good to be angry instead of just nervous and uncertain.  For the moment, anyway, she was fully willing to embrace that, no matter how ludicrous and unfounded it was.

Keep reading

So I don’t get excited about meeting a lot of famous people but I got a picture with Steven Moffat on my birthday who is the writer of my favorite TV show of all time, Doctor Who (and Sherlock!) and he wished me a happy birthday. I asked him to describe Jim the Fish and he said that he’s a fish, his name is Jim, and everybody knows him and loves him. He said he doesn’t know if we will ever get to meet Jim the Fish but that maybe he would go home and think about it! I have never been so excited ever…! Thank you sooo much to @nycshutterspeed for taking me to see the Doctor Who Special in theaters and for snapping this photo! You really know the way to a Whovian’s heart… 😍

oh my stars! my sister made a TARDIS cake for my birthday!!!! :D I hardly wanna eat it!

Happy Birthday Moff

For taking us to 221B and on a ride in a blue box, for Sherlock and John, for the Doctor, for stories that will never end. For being so respectful and joyous about what you get to do. For the subtext and fanboyish references. For the Weeping angels, the Silence, and the monsters under the bed. (even though you scared the crap out of us each time, we still love you). For reminding us that fear is a superpower. For being an inspiration to writers. For all the stories you’ve given us, and the ones we know are coming.

There will never come a day when we don’t need you, Mr. Moffat. Happy 54th!