mrs. wiggin

sunken-standard  asked:

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Morgue; dealer's choice for ship.

After this I will only have five two prompts left to fill for the “give me a title and ship and I’ll write a drabble” challenge. Success is within my reach!

Rated K+/T, Set Post TFP. I hope this is close to what you had in mind, @sunken-standard!

“We’re going to see Molly Hooper.”

Sherlock groaned and rolled his eyes, dropping his head to the back of the seat. It was like deja vu all over again. Only this time he wasn’t high - thank God for that or she’d do more than just slap him - but he was definitely not at his best.

“Do we have to?” he whined as John settled in grimly next to him.

“Yes,” his best friend (most of the time, definitely not today) replied, folding his arms across his chest and jutting out his chin in his most stubborn expression as he gazed out the car window.

“It’s not my fault,” Sherlock mumbled.

“Course it is, Shezza,” Wiggins, seated on his other side, replied cheerfully. “S’always your fault when it comes to the missus, innit?”

Much as he disliked admitting any such thing, Wiggins was right. “Fine, it’s my fault. But she knew what she was getting into when she…”

“If you finish that sentence, mate, you’ll regret it more than you can possibly imagine,” Greg advised from behind the steering wheel. Like Wiggins, he was entirely too cheerful about all this. “Cos if you even think about wiggling out of this by turning the blame on that saint of a woman, just because she had the poor taste to fall in love with you…”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sherlock snapped, trying not to show how rapidly he was backpedalling. “I just meant that she’ll understand, that’s all.”

“Yeah, right,” John snorted. “Least this time you don’t have to pee in a cup for her.”

Wiggins and Lestrade both giggled way too long at that asinine remark, while Sherlock continued to sulk - and tried his damndest to figure out how to put the best possible spin on things before they reached St. Barts.

It was a good thing they didn’t need him to pee in a cup, since she wasn’t in the lab. He tried not look at is as a bad sign that she was, instead, in the morgue. In the middle of an autopsy.

With a bone saw in hand and blood splatters on the faceguard of her headgear.

Even over the noise of the saw she must have heard the doors open, but she didn’t look up. Not even when Lestrade cleared his throat and announced, “We found him.” Whether from anger or out of professionalism he couldn’t judge, not without seeing her face.

He focused on her hands - so small, but so strong and so competent. Gloved. No betraying bumps to show that she was wearing a ring. That he could confidently put down to professionalism; she’d have it pinned neatly to the inside of her lab coat, away from the potential dangers of losing it inside an open chest cavity or down the drain when she removed her gloves.

“Molly, I -” he started, then fell silent when she snapped up one hand, palm towards him. He heard the doors open behind him but didn’t dare turn around, even when he heard what had to be the tapping of Mycroft’s brolly on the tiles and a stifled gasp from Mrs. Hudson.

After a few minutes during which Wiggins shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot and John just stood on his other side in stoic soldier mode, the saw went silent. Molly carefully placed it in the basin on the counter, just as carefully covered the body with a sheet, removed the faceguard and her gloves, then finally turned to face him. “Well?” she said, watching him steadily as she unpinned her ring and held it between finger and thumb. “Do I give this back or not?”

He swallowed. Hard. “No, you don’t give it back,” he replied, daring to step closer and reaching out for it. “You let me put it back on your finger.” With his other hand he fished in his pocket, carefully pulling out the matching white-gold band. “And you let me put this one on, too. Please.”

“Did you get them? The bad guys who were worth running after the day of our wedding? Even though Greg told you his men could take care of it?” There was a slight crack in the facade now, a hint of a tremor in his voice, there and gone so quickly a lesser man would have missed it entirely.

Not him. “Yes, I got them.” He hesitated not a second before adding softly, “I’m sorry. I believe the expression is cold feet - not because I don’t want to marry you, but because I…panicked. And I wanted you to have a chance to back out if you wanted to.”

She nodded. “By reminding me just how idiotic you can be? Yeah, I got that.” Her expression finally softened and she nodded, giving him permission to move closer as she reached out and took his free hand in hers. The one without the ring he still held. “Sherlock, I love you. I’m not going to just wake up one day and stop loving you. I promise.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

She grinned, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yeah, that’s true. But looks like you’re stuck with me.” She took a deep breath. “So. Let’s do this, all right?”

He nodded, grinning back at her in relief. “Right. Let’s do this.”

Still holding her hand in his, he turned to face their gathered friends and family. Nodding regally at Mycroft, who had hooked his brolly over one arm and was paging leisurely through a black-bound hardcover book that held all sorts of government archania…

…including the ceremony he was about to officiate. Looking up, he cast a supercilious eye on the gathered crowd - their parents, John, Mrs. Hudson, Greg, Wiggins, Mike Stamford - before meeting his younger brother’s gaze. “If the bride and groom agree to begin…?”

“We do,” Molly and Sherlock replied together. Firmly. With no hesitation whatsoever.

And if anyone had any comments about the unusual venue…

Well. The pair of them had always been more Morticia and Gomez than Terry and June.

Speculation time! Mrs Wiggins’s anti-tree attitude and tree rumours

Although she does flip her attitude once she sees the seed growing, at the start, it’s strange. Grammy Norma seems very pro-tree, so how can her daughter be anti-tree?

The way Mrs Wiggins talks about real trees,

it’s likely she has never seen one for herself (or doesn’t remember any), meaning her childhood years or maybe her entire life was spent in Thneedville. (And since we saw O’Hare during the building of Thneedville, that would put him as older than Mrs Wiggins). Growing up in Thneedville means she could’ve gone to O’Hare Elementary.

As others have pointed out, the O’Hare business isn’t new.

So it’s possible for one of the older O’Hare family members to be the ones who finished building Thneedville, plastering their name and ideologies all over the place, including the school.

So she might’ve learnt in school that plastic trees are far superior to real trees, but what about Grammy? Surely Grammy could’ve told her daughter all about how wonderful trees are and the whole Once-ler business. Even Audrey knows that trees are wonderful, (somehow. I wish we knew more about Audrey).

But I think Mrs Wiggins does know wonderful trees are. While everyone else in town tooks some convincing to agree to have the tree and didn’t love it on sight, Mrs Wiggins flipped her attitude the moment she saw the tree right in front of her. Grammy could’ve been telling her how wonderful trees are all along, but she never believed her until she saw the tree with her own eyes.

Yet, if Grammy Norma told her all about how wonderful trees were and knows that “if you want one, you need to find [The Once-ler]”, why is the Once-ler just a “magical fable” to Mrs Wiggins? Why hasn’t Mrs Wiggins gone out to get one for herself? I’m guessing that during Mrs Wiggin’s childhood, the Once-ler rumour was more popular because the company’s fall was in more recent memory. However, you know how O’Hare discourages and threatens Ted for being interested in trees and tries to keep him in town? The O’Hares know too that listening to the Once-ler will mean you receive a seed.

If more people knew about the Once-ler back then, a larger number of people would try to find him, but a large number of people will also encounter threats from O’Hare and desist. So while growing up, Mrs Wiggins would’ve seen many of her peers go “HOO YEAH, GONNA SEE THE ONCE-LER!”, only to see them the next day say “Once-ler? Nah, I’m staying in town”, and so concluded that the Once-ler is a fake. And for those who did manage to get seeds, the O’Hares would’ve probably found and destroyed them before they could grow, and maybe whoever had the seed would be forced to say that it wasn’t real, just a painted rock or something like that.

However, how did Grammy know that talking to the Once-ler will actually give you a seed and wasn’t just a rumour? To confirm it wasn’t false and acquiring some strangely specific items and heading out of town would actually give you a seed, either Grammy herself or someone close to her must’ve succeeded in getting a seed.

Would the Once-ler even tell his story to someone of Grammy’s age? He could just look out of the window and say “Really? You’re as old as me. You know what happened to the trees. Nobody, not even you, stopped me and I chopped everything down. You want to heckle me now about trees or something? Go away.” And then spring his traps.

However, there’s more chance he would tell his story to someone who’s younger and didn’t witness it all. The rumour would’ve started a few years after his company fell, because by then, there would actually be a demand for people to go hear the Once-lers story if the people around them didn’t know what happened to the trees or wouldn’t tell.

Going even further into speculation territory, I think that someone close to Grammy that succeeded would be one of Audrey’s parents. Grammy could confirm that the rumour is true because her close friendship with them means (maybe that’s why Grammy and Audrey live so close to each other?) she could see what’s going on their life. And the way Audrey talks

“Used to grow around here”, “softer than silk”, “smelled like butterfly milk”. Along with the accurate depiction of the trees in her mural and recounting specific details, I think Audrey knows what happened, her parent told her stuff, and long ago, Norma told her parent or one of Audrey’s grandparents told her what trees looked like. However, Audrey isn’t going out to get the seed because her parent knows O’Hare is a threatening guy and wants to keep her safe, and Norma is respecting that decision by not telling her about how to find the Once-ler.

(Though if going along the Norma knows Audrey’s parent thing, that would have to make Norma’s lines of “Is that the girl you’re talking about, she’s even prettier than-” just for teasing Ted, because she would have to be aware of Audrey’s existence. And maybe before Mrs Wiggins could see how Audrey’s parents got a seed, they lost it, making Mrs Wiggins think that both her mom and Audrey’s parent are both in on playing a joke about the Once-ler really existing on her, and so making her still not believe the rumour.)

But, while Norma wouldn’t meddle with other people’s kids, she would meddle with her own grandson just like she meddles with her own daughter (asking her to go get her teeth, taking too long at the game), someone who isn’t influenced by seeing people around him fail at seeing the Once-ler. He’s interested in trees, Audrey’s interested too, but she can’t go get one. If Ted goes to get a tree, kill two birds with one stone, make two kids happy with one seed!

anonymous asked:

Ppl keep asking you if you support ace people because there are a lot of exclusionists. A lot of ppl that support other LGBT identities that don't support ace people. The people asking are people that like your politics, but want to be sure that you respect their existence as members of the LGBT community.

The Lorax (also known as Dr. Seuss’ The Lorax) is a 2012 American 3D computer-animated musical fantasy–comedy film produced by Illumination Entertainment and based on Dr. Seuss’s children’s book of the same name. The film was released by Universal Pictures on March 2, 2012, on the 108th birthday of Dr. Seuss. The second film adaptation of the book (following the 1972 animated television special), the film builds on the book by expanding the story of Ted, the previously unnamed boy who visits the Once-ler. The cast includes Danny DeVito as the Lorax, Ed Helms as the Once-ler, and Zac Efron as Ted. New characters introduced in the film are Audrey (voiced by Taylor Swift), Aloysius O'Hare (Rob Riggle), Mrs. Wiggins, Ted’s mother (Jenny Slate), and Grammy Norma (Betty White).[5]

The film received mixed reviews from critics, but it was a box office success, grossing $214 million in North America and $348.8 million worldwide based on a $70 million budget.[4]

Ted Wiggins is an idealistic boy, who lives in Thneedville, a walled city that, aside from the human citizens, is completely artificial; everything is made of plastic, metal, or synthetics with no living plants. Ted has a crush on local environmentalist Audrey, who wants to see a “real tree” more than anything in the world, and decides to find one in order to impress her. His energetic Grammy Norma secretly tells Ted the legend of the Once-ler, who will tell anyone about trees if they brought him fifteen cents, a nail, and a shell of a great-great-great grandfather snail. When Ted leaves Thneedville in search of the Once-ler, he discovers that the outside world is a contaminated, empty, barren wasteland. Once the boy finds him, the Once-ler agrees to tell Ted about the trees on the condition that he listens to the story over multiple visits. Ted agrees, but on his way home, he encounters the mayor of Thneedville, Aloysius O'Hare, who is also the proprietor of a company that sells bottled oxygen to Thneedville residents. O'Hare explains to Ted that because trees produce oxygen free of charge, he considers it a threat to his business whenever he hears people talking about them. After revealing that he has “security camera eyes” all over the city, O'Hare pressures Ted to stay in town. However, Ted continues to sneak out of O'Hare’s sight (with his grandmother’s encouragement) and learns more of the trees’ history.

Over Ted’s various visits, the Once-ler recounts the story that when he was a young man, he departed his family to find good material for his Thneed invention and make a business. The Once-ler meets the guardian of the forest, the Lorax, after cutting down a Truffula tree in a lush Truffula tree forest valley. The Lorax urges the Once-ler to leave the forest, but the Once-ler refuses. Eventually, the Once-ler promises not to chop another tree down, and the two seem to begin a friendship of sorts. Then, the young businessman’s Thneed invention becomes a major success and the Once-ler’s family arrives to participate in the business. At first keeping his promise, the Once-ler continues Thneed production by harvesting the Truffula tree tufts in a slow, but sustainable manner. However, his greedy and lazy relatives soon convince him to resume chopping down the trees. Over time, the Once-ler’s deforestation spirals into a mass overproduction. Flushed with wealth, the Once-ler rationalizes his short-sighted needs into arrogant self-righteousness, and the Lorax’s helpless protests do not stop him. The Once-ler pollutes the sky, river, and landscape, until the very last Truffula Tree falls. With no further chance of business, he is left broken and abandoned by his family, with his mother disowning him, and with the region uninhabitable because of his business’s pollution, the Lorax sends the animals off to find a new place to live before the Once-Ler helps him depart into the sky, leaving only a stone-cut word: “Unless”. Distraught and ruined, the Once-ler becomes a recluse.

After he finishes telling his story, the Once-ler finally understands the meaning behind the Lorax’s last message, and gives Ted the last Truffula seed in hopes that he can plant it and make others care about real trees once more. Ted’s desire to impress Audrey also becomes a personal mission to remind his town of the importance of nature. O'Hare, still determined not to have trees undermine his business, takes heavy-handed steps such as covering Audrey’s nature paintings, closing off the door that Ted uses to see the Once-ler, and forcibly searching Ted’s room for the seed (which has begun to grow after having some water from Ted’s falling bottle after he close his room’s door to see O'Hare). Ted enlists his family and Audrey to help plant the seed, which has begun to germinate after water was accidentally spilled on it. O'Hare and his employees pursue the dissidents until they manage to elude him and reach the town center. When Ted finally attempts to plant the seed, he is interrupted by O'Hare, who rallies the population to stop them by telling the people that trees are dangerous and filthy. To convince them otherwise, Ted takes an earthmover and rams down a section of the city wall to reveal the environmental destruction outside, thereby showing them what O'Hare is encouraging. Horrified at the sight and inspired by Ted’s conviction (as though a part of the Lorax is within him), the crowd turns against O'Hare when they discover his true nature, with his own henchmen expelling him from the town with his jet pack-like helmet, and the seed is finally planted. Time passes and the land starts to recover; new trees sprout, the animals begin to return, and the redeemed, now-mustached Once-ler happily reunites with the Lorax.

“The Lorax” (2012) is basically Danger Days, except with trees instead of war.

Thneedville- Battery City

Outskirts of Thneedville- the Zones

O'Hare Air- BLI

Aloucious O'Hare- The Director

Morty & McGurk- Crows & Dracs

Cy, the O'Hare delivery guy- Korse

The Onceler- Dr. Death Defying

Ted- Fun Ghoul

Audrey- Party Poison

Grammy Norma would be a Bat City citizen who didn’t always take the happy pills, eventually convincing her daughter (Mrs. Wiggins) to do the same.


Bit emotional in these pics… because #CarolBurnett is one of the main reasons I do what I do and I am who I am. It was so moving to be able to introduce her tonight at #PaleyHonors, where she was being honored and celebrated for her epic groundbreaking contribution to television. Because of comedy I know what it feels like to fly, to be free, and fully myself; to touch, dance, and live in places that others are afraid to go. Because of Carol Burnett, I can sing out loud like Tarzan, own my size like Mrs. Wiggins, feel powerful in a curtain rod, tug my ear when I know something others don’t, and be as fearless as Carol Burnett. (x)

Promise Me - Dean Winchester x Reader

Hi to all! So, I had to change the title from Remember me to the one above so that it corresponded with the one shot. I hope you guys enjoy though.  Keep a look out for other things :)

Originally posted by spn-spam

Dean surveys the area around him, taking it all in for one last time. The pictures she’s hung every where, that teddy bear toy of hers -Mr Wiggins- that he had won her in a country fair a few months aback in Oklahoma. The cup she always seems to forget on the coffee table, that dark green sweater she loves so much.
He walks around the living room, brushing his fingers along the framed picture of himself and her, he remembers that day. They had gone out, Dean was free for a few days and Sam was more than happy to take the picture. Another one sat next to it, a picture with Y/n, Sam, Cas and himself. He could barely remember how that picture had gotten taken in the first place, he could only just about remember being shit drunk.
He sighs, those were great times. Though there was constant worry–there still is– Dean had to do this, it’s the only way.
When he met Y/n, he was certain it was nothing more than a fling. That’s what it was supposed to be, but he fell hard for her, and sometimes he thinks he’s still falling. But Dean was always wary of their relationship, what’s stopping the things he hunts to come after her? It wouldn’t be the first time they come after the ones he cares about, and it certainly won’t be the last.
When you’re a Hunter, there’s no happy endings. You live, you fight monsters and no matter how hard you try, the people you love always gets dragged in and you try your best to make sure they don’t end up dying before you do.
Dean had promised himself, since Lisa and Ben, he had promised himself to never drag someone in like that again. Because in the end, they’re going to get hurt and that’s the whole shebang. So he’s leaving, as much as it kills him to do it, as much as he wants to go back upstairs and crawl under the sheets with her and pretend that this was just a dumb thought, he couldn’t.
He loves this girl, he loves her too much to risk her life, to drag her into the mess that’s his own. He doesn’t want that for her, he wants her safe and living her life as happy and as far away from him as she possibly could. It’s better this way.
Dean shifts the weight of the duffle bag in his hand, watching the picture still, memorising it. “Dean?”
Dean holds his breath at the sound of her voice calling to him, he was supposed to be gone by now. He slowly turns to find Y/n at the bottom of the staircase, looking tired and positively confused. Still wearing one of his shirts, they grey one she had refused to give back, not that Dean ever minded.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her eyes drifting down his hand to the black duffle bag. “What’s with the duffle bag?”
Dean takes a breath, placing the bag on the arm chair to his left. How to ease this in?
“I’m uh.. I’m leaving,” he says, his voice betraying him, he didn’t want to have to tell her. Y/n furrows her eyebrows, walking over to him, “But you don’t leave until Friday… ” she says, smiling, probably wondering what trick Dean was pulling this time around.
“No, Y/n. I’m leaving,”
Realization finally dawns on her, and Dean could see her eyes darken with sadness. “….Oh….”
This–this is what he doesn’t want. She’s going to make it harder for him to leave if she keeps looking at him like that.
“I’m sorry.. it’s just, I wanna keep you safe, and the only way to do that is if I’m as far from you as possible,”
Y/n pulls away from the staircase and Dean watched as she slowly made her way to him. “Dean… ” She mutters, “Y-you can’t just–you can’t leave, not like this.”
Dean gripped onto the duffle bag straps just a little tighter, it took everything in him not to just drop it and forget he ever thought about leaving. But he can’t and he knows that.

“We can work this out, Dean. We can make it work.”

Dean shakes his head, sighing. “I’m sorry, Y/n. But this is the only way. This is the only way I know how. I ain’t gonna stay here let you throw away your life for me.”

“I’m not throwing my life away Dean.” Y/n says, standing in front of him now. “Do you wanna know why I’m still with you? It’s because I love you. And if you walk out that door…. then you’re throwing that away.” Dean blinks at her, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration. Seeing the way her e/c eyes welled up with big fat tears Dean pulls her into a tight hug. Her body shakes as she cried into his flannel shirt, she kept muttering, “You can’t leave,” over and over.
“I’m sorry,” Dean would whisper back every time he’d hear her muffled words. This didn’t make anything easier at all, and Dean could feel the weight of it all just weigh down on his chest. He wants to stay, end the pain Y/n was feeling right now, but he knew well. He’d be putting her in danger.
“Did you ever see us going anywhere?” Y/n mumbled, and Dean rests his chin on her head, tightening his arms around her. “Of course I did, sweetheart. But right now…. right now, things are just too harsh. I don’t want you caught in the cross fire. I won’t be able to live with myself if something ever happened to you.” Y/n had pulled away from him then, looking up at him, her eyes were puffy and red. But she smiled, a sad one, but Dean saw this as something good.
“Okay,” She says softly, wiping away stay tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Just – just promise me whenever I see you again that you’re in one piece.”
Dean smiles, brushing her hair behind her ear, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips. “I promise,”

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anonymous asked:

Any fluffy swr headcanons?

definitely!!!! please bear with me these…aren’t really fluffy, per say? but they’re also not traumatizing either so maybe that qualifies lmao

  • Hera gives Ezra a blue blanket. it was an impulse buy that matches his eyes and it’s super fuzzy and warm and literally his favorite thing ever
  • Chopper has a strange fascination with t-shirts. he collects them and occasionally will convince Ezra to put one on him. no one’s quite sure why but also no one’s brave enough to ask 
  • Kanan hums when he works. he can’t sing for the life of him, but he does hum and everyone finds it very soothing and one time he actually lulled Ezra to sleep with it. accidentally. probably. 
  • Zeb gives the best hugs ever when he can be convinced to do so 
    • it doesn’t really take that much convincing and if anyone’s having a bad day they get a Zeb Hug™ and everything in the world is better now
  • Sabine experiments with making her own art supplies, which is how she and Ezra manage to make a lifetime’s worth of crayons one day.
  • she also gives “art lessons” which is really just them acting like children. there’s a big sheet of white paper laid over the floor of the galley and they all go nuts. 
    • that’s how she discovers that Lasats make finger painting way more interesting
  • Hera institutes family movie night, but she ruins it by booing at unrealistic space battles while Ezra and Zeb throw popcorn at each other. Kanan and Sabine are long-suffering.
  • Kanan can dance. formal, ballroom style stuff he had to learn in the Temple. naturally he teaches everyone else and everyone else is just so bad at it that they get to the point where they’re just on the floor dying of laughter
  • Zeb decides that they all need to go camping together and it’s just…worse than the dancing. it’s so painful. Kanan and Sabine are both battle-trained and ready but they don’t really see the appeal of like…willingly camping. but they’re okay. but…Ezra is a city kid through and through and Hera’s spent so much time in space at this point that woodlands and trees seem Fake™ and they suffer together. 
    • actually, everybody suffers because Ezra and Hera are HORRIBLE whiners and in the end, after Ezra discovers what a river is and Hera gets space poison ivy and Sabine develops an unhealthy fascination with the campfire and a bear eats all their food and Kanan climbs up a tree to hide from them they all decide that they’ve had a wonderful time and they’ll do this again sometime
  • at one point, Ezra manages to adopt a Lothster (read: space hamster). he convinces Kanan to let him keep him. his name is Mr. Wiggins and he basically becomes the family pet after they convince Chopper to stop trying to kill him. it’s Ezra’s first pet

anyway, hope this is fluffy? have a good day anon :3

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Series 3 of Sherlock

The first time I watched series 3 all the way through, it left me with a lot of complicated shall we say “feels”.  It wasn’t exactly that I hated it, though I definitely didn’t love it – it’s more that it left me feeling sort of discombobulated and uncomfortable and out of sorts and I couldn’t put my finger on why.

Keep reading

Sherlock; a complex network of mirrors

In the midst of all the wank about Johnlock and Mary in light of series three I’d like side step that and chat about the fabulous use of mirrors in Sherlock’s writing. :) A lot of people deem them coincidental and that the oft pointed-out parallels in the writing are either lazy or accidental occurrences that don’t mean anything.

You are wrong. The reason you are wrong is because the same writing method in creating mirrors is employed in every single episode, and following that method and placing the mirrors correctly and in context creates a cohesive, evolving romantic arc within the show. That hasn’t happened by accident. It is completely impossible. :) Of course, that doesn’t mean you need to heed them, if you don’t want to. I’m just a reader who really enjoys this kind of thing, so.

For a very brief example of mirroring, in the 1970’s film The Haunting of Julia, Julia is the mother of a child she accidentally kills while performing an emergency tracheotomy. In light of the tragedy she immediately leaves her husband to be alone with her grief, and starts to be visited by a beautiful child that used to occupy her new home, who it turns out mutilated and murdered a young boy at her school. After a series of “hauntings”, Julia faces the girl in the end and she finds her redemption in suicide. In films like this, the ghost’s murderous hands are often in actuality the protagonists own, the external force that haunts and undoes them a mirror for what is in reality self-inflicted ruination [one could say this is what Moriarty is to Sherlock in The Reichenbach Fall]. So it’s fitting that the child “haunting” her in this case killed and castrated a male child, illustrating Julia’s resentment of her own husband and intense guilt over the fact that her daughters death allowed her to escape her marriage.

Mirroring is not a new or unusual storytelling technique, neither is using it to hide a story inside another story, and it is especially common and effectively used in genre films & literature, of which Mark Gatiss is a known enthusiast. In Sherlock, the mirrors create a romantic arc for Sherlock and John that also involves Moriarty and Mary, that deals with desire, doubt, repression, bitterness, insecurity, anxiety, guilt, abandonment and transformation. The mirrors illustrate everything going unspoken and provide context and humour to a lot of the seemingly outlandish or confusing dialogue. Occasionally they show you something that takes place offscreen. Like the waltzing lesson in 221B that’s mentioned at the end of The Sign of Three, they show you a few minutes earlier through Sherlock coaching Janine. :) How cute is that.

And obviously, if you’re to understand these mirrors you really do need to just understand that Sherlock is gay and John is bisexual and move on. Their orientations are not the focus at any point, and they are not meant to be yours as the viewer either.

Of course, it doesn’t end with the other characters in the show, there’s a lot of other stuff as well, and when things like Coventry & Claire de la Lune feature it’s VERY relevant to the context.

As you can see below, the pervasive locked room is always a metaphor for Sherlock’s heart. Death is always synonymous of heartbreak, and there is an important running thread throughout the show of Sherlock as The Deadman and John as The Ghost/Invisible Man. You’ll notice Sherlock’s mirrors are always the victims, and the murderer is always a mirror for Moriarty, even when those mirrors are initially thought to be John, that is only ever to show us Sherlock’s fear of him, fears that always prove to be unfounded. Food and drink are the other big one. They work food and drink in as metaphors for the presence of desire and love and concern absolutely flawlessly from the very beginning of A Study in Pink, when Sherlock grimaces and shudders after he takes a sip of the coffee Molly makes him after she asks him out.

So, the mirrors! I think this is most of them and they’re all correct, though I’m unsure about Mycroft in general, there’s no way to know if he’s still a mirror for Jim in series three. :) If you want to add or discuss anything please do! This is just a summary, as going in to detail about each mirror would take tens of thousands of words per episode, and I’m also not going in to John’s Blog, which would require a separate post. And a big BIG shoutout to loudest-subtext-in-television for pretty much nailing the method in their fabulous SiS post on The Blind Banker! Without that it would have probably taken me 10X as long to figure this stuff out. :)

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How Sherlock Got His Bees

Monday, January 6th. Or better know to some people as Sherlock Holmes’ Birthday. 

It wasn’t like they were going to forget, no matter how much Sherlock tried to deny he liked it: ‘Such a trivial thing, to celebrate the day one was born. Really, I’m not that self centered. Everyone is born.

This comment was always met with a roll of the recipient’s eyes. 

However, the fact that Sherlock wouldn’t - and he wouldn’t - stop asking about what his friends were doing on that particular Monday was almost solid proof that he wanted people to acknowledge that he had, in fact, been born. 

So, Greg, Molly, John and Mary (Mrs. Hudson and even Wiggins had chipped in too) worked together to give Sherlock a lovely birthday. It would be small, just a surprise (if they could keep it a surprise) party, that he would return to after John had taken him out on a case that same day. 

Monday 6th January

They were all shuffling around, John had just texted Greg to say that they were 5 minutes away and that he didn’t think he suspected anything. 

They were each positioned around the living room, each with a party popper. 

There had been an argument about the need of party poppers, however, Mary had settled it.

Molly’s present for Sherlock was packed away in her rucksack. She initially hadn’t a clue of what to buy him. That was until a couple of weeks ago last Thursday. It had been a very insightful conversation: 

“Sherlock?” She asked, blowing on her to-hot-to-drink tea, “What do you like to do other than this?” Her hand gestured over the body he was analyzing with a fierce scrutiny. 

He looked up to her and his furrowed eyebrows relaxed. 

“Well, a lot of things, actually.” He announced, straightening up. 

“Yes…What like?” Molly urged. 

“Well…I mean, I like to read. Did you know I can read at a rate of-” He sat on a lab stool, staring to ramble off in his usual way which Molly knew he did when he wasn’t familiar with something. Molly quickly interjected:

“Yes Sherlock, It probably is very fast. I believe you. But, tell me, what sort of books do you like?” 

“I like to read some factual stuff, the more philosophical kind, I think you could probably understand why the books made up purely of facts alone would bore me,” 

“Yes, yes, I could imagine why.” Molly assured, taking a sip of her tea but still keeping her eye on Sherlock. 

“But I think I like reading classic and adventure novels most of all. They’re my favourite. Always have been.”  Sherlock wandered off, thinking about how he used to sit in his garden completely engrossed by different adventure novels that his mum would take him to buy every month at the local bookstore in town. His favourite being Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson. he had read that book about 45 times by the time he was 10. 

After several minutes of silence, Molly piped up again:

“Anything else?” 

“Oh.” Sherlock was bought out of his little ponder.“Ah…yes…and Bees.” He finalised, turning back to the body, busying himself. 

“Bees?” Molly asked, confused. 

“Yes, well, I grew up in the country and My father kept beehives. We used to make our own honey and, as a child, I was fascinated with them; the way they carried their pollen, the different jobs within the hive, how we humans depended on such small creatures.” 

“Wow.” Molly hadn’t realised she had spoken until it was too late.

“What?” He asked, confused as to why she sounded so fascinated. They were only bees. 

“Oh, never mind, I just…I just…didn’t think that you would…you know…” 

“Care about a little thing like that?”  He finished, raising an eyebrow, but also staring at her intensely. 

So after Molly finished work, she decided to take a trip to her favourite bookstore in search for some adventure books and, hopefully, a book about beekeeping.  

That had been when a neat little thought popped into her head. 

What if she could give Sherlock bees? 

She knew she couldn’t really give him a load of bees, however, after a lot of internet searching, she adopted him a beehive in his home county of the Sussex Downs, a couple of days after she got the gift pack and a certificate - Molly slipped the certificate in between the pages of an ancient looking beekeeping book she had managed to find at the bookstore. She also bought old editions of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, A Journey to the Center of the Earth, The Hobbit and Treasure Island. All little boy’s books, she remarked, however, the idea of a little version of Sherlock, sat, reading similar books and being absolutely enthralled was too much and so she just had to buy them and see if they would turn him back to 9 years old again. 


They could all hear him coming up the stairs and when John opened the door they all burst out: 


Party poppers popped and streams of coloured paper covered the sitting room.  

He was trying so desperately to cover up how much he loved this surprise. 

As the bangers stopped, Sherlock quietly muttered:


Before everyone came rushing towards him with hugs and presents and well wishings. All except Molly, she stayed back and simply smiled at him. 

She decided she would give her present without the company of others. Not sure that he would want other people to see his softer side. She understood now that she was the only one to know about his nightmares - yes, Sherlock Holmes had nightmares - his younger, more troubled days, the days when he was ‘dead’ and now she knew about his hobbies. It was a strange relationship they had. 

An hour later

Wiggins and Greg were already drunk and John and Mrs Hudson were tipsy. The party atmosphere was definitely in swing. 

While it was loud and everyone was chatting, this was when Molly decided to make her move. She just needed to get him away for a couple of seconds and then he could re-enter with a nice, new present. 

She walked up behind him - he was talking to John and ‘Billy’ - and tapped him light;y on the shoulder, 

“Sherlock could I talk to you for a second? Outside?” 

“Of course.” He answered her, putting down his champagne glass. 

Wiggins wolf-whistled as they stepped out onto the landing. 


I need to give you your present.” Molly explained, shuffling around in the rucksack. 

“Why out here?” he quizzed as he waited, looking at Molly who seemed to be fumbling around an awful lot. 

She finally found what she had been looking for and answered him:

“I didn’t think you’d want the others to see it.” 


“I don’t know, I guess it’s sort of more personal to you.” 

She handed him the five packages, wrapped in brown paper with string. 

“Sorry about the wrapping it’s a bit-” she commented, worrying herself. 

“-No, it’s fine really.” Sherlock took the wrapping off the first book. “Oh.” He remarked, looking at the used and abused cover of an oh-so-familiar children’s novel. 

“Oh god, you hate it don’t you.” she squirmed, “I thought it was a bit risky. I’m sorry. I can take them back and give you money instead. I-” She had noticed his face which looked neither happy nor angry. She knew Sherlock was good at hiding his emotions, however, she just had a gut feeling he didn’t like it. She hid her pink cheeks under her hands. 

However, Sherlock quickly interrupted her worried thoughts by prising her hands away from her face and smiling. 

“Molly. Please stop worrying. I love it.” 

“You do?” 

“Yes. I do. This was - no, is - my favourite book. I used to read it on our lawn, or in my father’s chair in the winter, when I was a child. My copy was never as beautiful as this though. Thank you.” 

Sherlock leaned in and kissed her cheek slowly and as he pulled away she told him:

“There are more Sherlock!” and pointed excitedly at the others in his hands. 

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer elicited an interested noise from him and he told her how he never got to read this as a child, but Mycroft had a copy but would not let him even breathe on it.  A Journey to the Center of the Earth made Sherlock regale her in how he had found a rabbit hole while he was walking the dog one day and tried to enter the centre of the earth through it, but eventually got stuck and Mycroft came looking for him a couple of hours later. The Hobbit was a book both Molly and Sherlock had read many times, however it never got old and they said that they would try and read it together again at some point. 

As Sherlock opened the Beekeeping book, the small certificate fell to the floor. 

On picking it up he gasped:

“You remembered.”

“Of course I remembered you idiot. I’m not going to forget that you like to look after bees.” She giggled, trying to find the gift pack she had gotten on sponsoring a beehive. 

As she gave the small collection of things to him, she saw how perfectly excited he looked. 

“You know you really didn’t have to buy me anything Molly.” He added, looking up to her after finally finishing flicking through all the beekeeping guides. 

“Of course I did. It’s your birthday, everyone needs something on their birthday, even if they are Sherlock Holmes.” 

“Molly you really should be getting the present. Your too good sometimes. So patient.” He sighed defeatedly, pilling the presents up in his arms. 

Molly couldn’t help but pull him into a hug and return his earlier kiss on the cheek. 

“Happy Birthday Sherlock Holmes.” 

40 years later

“I’m worried about those bees Molly.” Sherlock moaned for the umpteenth time as his wife came and sat down beside him in her chair next to the fire. 

“Sherlock, they’ll be fine. The people at the apiary know just what to do.” She squeezed his hand, knowing from 30 years experience that whenever there was a particularly cold winter - and I mean when wasn’t there - he wanted his bees to be safe and sound. She thought that given half the chance, he would move them in here with them. That certainly wouldn’t work, not with the dog. 

“But-” he protested before Molly cut him off. 

“Sherlock, we’ve owned those bees for 40 years, admittedly they aren’t the same ones we started out with, but we’ve kept the hive healthy, I mean we even moved down here for gods sake, just so you could spend more time looking after them; and you have. Lots of new baby bees were born and not a single one has died from any of those 40 winters. Not one. So, please stop worrying and enjoy your god damn birthday.” 

He had been shut up by Molly once again and he squeezed her hand back before he took out his reading book and Molly took out hers. 

“The Hobbit, Chapter 2: Roast Mutton…” She read. 

anaisninja  asked:

First, THANK you for doing this site. It's an amazing resource right now. Second, maybe someone has already said this, but if not, wanted to know what people thought about the fake 221B screens used at Mount Stuart Square. The framed blue skull guy looks the same on those screens as in the Czech trailer. And if that's a connection, the Wiggins actor was on set/nearby that day. I wonder if he could have played a role in administering whatever is causing this nightmarish trip...

Thank you!

I talked a little bit about the new painting (is it even a painting? or is it actually just a picture? I’m thinking the latter) here back in August when Ben Caron gave us a photo of it. I agree that the one in the Czech trailer looks like it’s probably the same one from Mount Stuart Square. 

However, you can also clearly see the walls and more of the furniture and decor than is present in the Mount Stuart Square pics, so I at least wouldn’t say that this is that same scene, though they’re quite possibly connected. I think it’s pretty likely that this version of the blue skull is present throughout TLD. Now, why it’s been changed is a different matter, and I honestly don’t have an answer for that. (I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough though.)

As for Wiggins, Sherlock tells us in HLV that taking care of drugged people is more or less his day job, so I personally would put my money on Wiggins being there to look after him rather than being one of the ones to help drug him. But, as always, anything is possible…

Alright, I was trying to avoid this.

I was trying not to get involved.

But sometimes, there’s so much ridiculousness and negativity and anger, that you just snap.

So this is me snapping.

ALL DAY I have seen people tearing each other apart on my dashboard over the legal aspects of Sherlock. “Well, legally Mary should have done this,” and “Legally, Sherlock could be held responsible for that” and people are getting downright nasty, and I need to get this off my chest.

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Sherlock’s favorite character in Harry Potter is Hermione. John’s is Ron. Mycroft’s is Regulus. Molly’s is Luna. Lestrade’s is Harry (partly because he’s only seen the movies). Mrs Hudson’s is Ginny (who is very reminiscient of Mrs H’s niece). Wiggins’ is Bill Weasley. 

Sherlock likes The Philosopher’s Stone best, closely followed by The Half-Blood Prince. John’s favorite is The Deathly Hallows.