tatoo!lock

Sherlock ‘’man with a van’’ Holmes:

  • Mycroft bought him the van because Sherlock was struggling for money and the Yard refused to let him consult, hence Sherlock was unable to make a name for himself to make money off of the private cases.
  • His slogan is: ‘It’s only transport’.
  • Sherlock deducing every client he has.
  • ‘’Have a good day! And by the way, you might want to remove that stain from your collar before your wife comes home. She doesn’t know you’re cheating on her yet.“
  • One day he takes on a job to help someone move from a family home in the suburbs to a small bedsit a little closer to the city centre. 
  • Military man, served in Irak or Afghanistan. Honourably discharged due to injured… shoulder. He’s been shot. His limp is psychosomatic - nothing happened to it. He and his wife… no, ex-wife, got married 6 years ago, before he left. In the middle of a divorce now because… oh, she cheated. She’s pregnant. Baby isn’t his. Strong, solid build, stunning blonde hair, kind eyes… wait. Where did that come from?!
  • Sherlock not realising he’s been talking aloud until he sees the man watching him, mouth agape. ‘’That was… brilliant. How did you know?!’’ 
  • ‘’You think I’m brilliant?’’ 
  • ‘’I’m John… John Watson… I know this sounds crazy, but… want to grab a cup of coffee sometime?’’ 

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The understanding, like the eye, whilst it makes us see and perceive all other things, takes no notice of itself; and it requires an art and pains to set it at a distance and make it its own object.
—  John Locke, born on this day in 1632, on knowledge, understanding, and why not to borrow your opinions from others – a prescient admonition penned centuries before our social media echo chamber. 
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Molly Hooper Appreciation Week - Day Two

It’s AU day and that means … Potter!Lock!  Woot.

Still unbeta’d because that’s how I roll.  That’s a lie.  It’s unbeta’d because I literally finished it two minutes ago and my beta hasn’t had a chance to look at it yet.

Molly Hooper Appreciation Week - Day Two : In My Wildest Dreams


Of Healers and Heartthrobs

“Stop making Mooncalf eyes at the man and just talk to him already.”

Molly immediately whipped her head around to stare at her mentor in horror.  She’d been discretely—or so she’d thought—watching the new Potions Master wind his way through the Great Hall toward the Head Table.  “I wasn’t making eyes of any kind, I was merely …”

Poppy Pomfrey chuckled and made a point of looking the man in question over.  “I may be old enough to retire at the end of the school year, my dear, but I’m not dead. I can already predict the lovesick fawning he’ll be subjected to from the students.  I saw it last year when Neville Longbottom took over for Pomona Sprout. That arse of his is a thing of beauty, and utterly wasted on a professor here at Hogwarts.”

“Madam Pomfrey!” Molly exclaimed, thoroughly scandalized.

“Really, my dear,” the matron huffed.  “How many times have I told you to call me Poppy?”

Molly was saved from answering by the arrival of the Potions Master at the Head Table.  He stopped just behind the chairs of the two mediwitches and gave them both a sharp nod.  “Madam Pomfrey, Healer Hooper.”

Somehow Molly got the impression that he knew exactly what they’d been discussing earlier.  She blushed and stuttered a quick hello.  

Her mentor had no such shyness.  “Professor Holmes.  If you wouldn’t mind stopping by the Hospital Wing this evening, we’ve made a list of potions needed to round out our stores.”

“Of course.”  With one last piercing look, he continued down the table to the vacant chair next to Professor Longbottom.

Molly waited until he was out of earshot to hiss out of the corner of her mouth, “What list?  We haven’t got a list.”

Poppy waved her fork dismissively.  “We’ll come up with something.”

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