why don’t people talk about the fact that L’s name is literally just L? this bitch really going around using his first name as his Secret Detective Alias because he’s a fucking troll who knows no one would suspect a whole ass human would actually have a letter for his whole ass name
i think people who still tinhat saying mofftiss want us to relive the victioran experience of fans bringing sherlock back are forgetting it doesn't work like that anymore. sherlock of that era was the most popular piece of entertainment, a rare thing, one of few. today? you have hundreds of (much better) tv shows, no one except for few hundred of tumblr fans will bat an eye if sherlock never comes back. imho 99% of casual already forgot they watched the s4 three months ago.
Mmm, I can see the point you’re making here, but that doesn’t mean that’s not what’s happening. Not the brightest move on their part, I grant you, and I do agree with you that the casual audience just come and go. But if it was announced there’s going to be a new episode, you don’t think people would watch it? Crappy season or not, Sherlock is basically a brand name, and people know it and will probably tune in just to see it to see what the hullabaloo is about. It’s one of BBC’s top-rated shows, and people will watch it if something new comes on… I mean… people still watch Dr. Who despite the decline in writing; people still watch Michael Bay movies even though people know they’re probably gonna suck. It’s a psychological thing, just to see what is next, to see how much further it will fall.
The “plan” won’t work they way Mofftiss would have wanted like in Victorian time, agreed, but this is the new age, and tin hatters know that there’s a different medium. There was outrage about the show when TFP aired (“the press always turn”), they cast and crew have all “disappeared”, rumours of no-S5 floating abounds, and people are demanding answers. Essentially… Reichenbach.
Yet they (the BBC and Mofftiss) seem intent on ensuring Sherlock is still on our minds after all of this: Graham Norton released a BC / MF tribute video on their YouTube, the Official Sherlock facebook and YouTube are still producing content months later (not a lot, but just enough to keep reminding people about it), and the media occasionally gets a word from Steven whenever he feels like stirring up shit and leaving his cave.
So while I don’t think a secret episode will draw in as much of an audience as they are used to, it will garner enough to spread by word of mouth. The old “if you build it they will come” dealy-o.
What they did is certainly not the best way to have gone about it, but they’re banking on the hope that the success of the series previously will make the people give them one more chance before canning it completely.
Christmas was not the worst time of year, but the people who celebrated it sure were. Every Troll was even more hug-y and sing-y and jolly than ever. They were always trying to give Branch gifts, or invite him to parties, or even trying to get him under the mistletoe anytime he was out. That was what Branch hated the most.
It wasn’t Mistletoe! The foliage that everyone hung up and kissed under was actually Holly, not Mistletoe. Mistletoe had white berries, grew on trees, and was a fungus. But no one seemed to care. They were all ignorant, and that made it even worse for Branch.
He tried not to go out in this season, but because of the cold, firewood was a necessity. He went through it so quickly.
The snow fell slowly around Branch, and crunched underfoot as he snuck from his bunker, and past the village of sleeping Trolls. Even though it was colder at night, Branch took this time to go out for his sticks. He didn’t have to meet up with any of the other unbearably bright Trolls, and the silent nights were pleasant. He liked the snow, in all truth. It was hard to sneak around in snow. It crunched and sloshed and left footprints. The Bergens could never sneak up on him in snow. No one could sneak up on him in the snow.
Or so he thought.
As Branch stomped around through the snow, a voice called out to him. A smooth, deep, infuriatingly calm voice. Guess you COULD get snuck up on, if you had a flying bug hovering you over the snow.
“Branch! What are you doing out?” Creek called out as Branch turned to the purple Troll. He sneered at him, and folded his arms over his chest. Creek alighted soundlessly on the snow in front of Branch, and turned to his bug chauffeur.
“Thank you for safe passage, brother. Namaste,” he whispered as he pressed his forehead to its head.
The bug began to fly away as Creek smiled serenely.
“And happy holidays!” He called out again, before turning back to Branch with a wide, enlightened smile. His teeth looked unusually white from the shining snow below and all around.
“So, what are you doing out here?” He asked Branch.
“I’m getting sticks,” Branch finally told him. Creek frowned at him.
“Why now?” He asked him curiously.
“Because no one else is out now. Well, I thought no one else was out here.” He muttered as he turned away again.
As he turned away, Branch had a thought.
“Wait… Why are you out here?” He asked as he turned back to Creek.
With an excited smile, Creek pulled a large red bag from behind himself.
Where had he gotten that, Branch wondered.
“I’m taking presents to people. I just wanted to do it anonymously.” Creek said with a shrug.
Branch, surprised by the genuine, kind act that Creek was owning to, frowned again.
“Wait, really?” He asked him. Creek nodded, smiling down at the bag.
“I think everyone deserves a gift this season. Even you,” he said, his voice turning to that condescending tone Branch was so familiar with Creek using on him. Yet, it was a bit more tender than Branch was used to.
“Really? What could you have possibly gotten me?” Branch asked him as he pressed a hand to the tree beside him, leaning on it.
“This,” Creek responded as he opened the bag, and pulled out a wrapped up bit of cloth. He pulled off the red bow, and let the fabric fall down until it unfurled to show itself in its true form.
It was a fluffy, warm looking jacket. It was done in the same style as his vest. Green, and made of the same small leaves that made up his vest. The inside was made of a blue, soft looking material that kept the leaves from letting out too much heat. It looked practical, and warm, and well made.
“Let me guess… Poppy?” He suspected. Creek frowned, something he didn’t often do.
“No. Does this look like something of Poppy’s? I made it. For you.” He said. Branch’s eyes went wide.
“You… Did?” He questioned him uncertainly.
Creek nodded, moving a bit closer to him so he could hand him the jacket. Branch took it from him, and looked it over. He peeked over the top of the neckline at Creek, and found him smiling.
“Well… Thank-” Branch stopped, feeling a clump of ice plop down on his head, and slide down his back, into his vest, and sent a corresponding shiver back up his spine.
Creek looked at him, and then upward. He continued to look upward as Branch quickly pulled on his new jacket.
“Well, thank you.” He finished, looking at Creek. The purple Troll had not even seemed to notice his thanks, however.
“Creek? Hello? Are you even listening to me?!” Branch called to him. Creek looked back at him again, his violet eyes shining mischievously. His cheeks had gone a darker color too.
“You’re welcome Branch. Sorry, I just noticed that there’s Holly above us.” He said as he began closing his bag.
Branch blinked at him.
“Wait, there is?” He asked as he looked up. When he did, he noticed that it was indeed Holly. He was sure that no one else could tell the difference. That was one of the decorations that someone had put up, after all. Branch would have thought that Creek would have thought it was mistletoe, like everyone else. But he didn’t.
“You know the tradition for getting stuck under Holly together, don’t you Branch?” Creek asked him, a smirk playing at his lips. He was teasing him. Branch could tell. He snarled under his breath, his brows knitting together tightly. He hated when Creek probed at him like that.
“Yeah, I do.” He growled at him, crossing his arms. The black eyebrows shot up again though, as Creek began to stalk toward Branch. Branch backed up, until his back hit the tree he had previously been leaning on. Branch looked behind him, sneering at his blocked path of escape. Then, suddenly, cold fingers touched his cold chin, and pulled him to look back at the purple Troll before him. His violet eyes were so close, Branch could tell exactly where his irises and his pupils met and separated. He could feel the warmth of his breath on his cheek and smell the peppermint cupcakes that Poppy had made earlier. Even though his body wasn’t cold anymore, Branch shivered involuntarily. Creek was so close, but he wasn’t keeping Branch there against the tree. Why was Branch not moving. He couldn’t. His feet didn’t work then, and his brain was close behind.
“If you know what happens… Then why don’t we make it happen? It’s only tradition,” Creek whispered. The backdrop of snow past his blue and turquoise hair was making his face have a halo effect. His lips looked as soft as his moisturized skin did. They were plush looking, just a half shade lighter than his skin.
Wait, why was Branch looking at his lips?! They couldn’t kiss! Branch hated Creek. He was pompous, and annoying, and condescending, and handsome, and thoughtful, and- wait, what?!
Branch had to stop this, before it began.
Branch put his hands on Creek’s bare chest, feeling the small bumps that had risen on his skin. Maybe he was the one who needed a jacket, not Branch.
“Creek, don’t you-” he began. Before he could even dare to say it though, Creek suddenly had him pinned against the tree. His plush lips were on his, and Branch couldn’t breathe. He closed his eyes reflexively, and held very still.
Creek kissed him for as long as he wanted, and finally pulled away. When Branch opened his eyes, and breathed, he could see the cloud of mist that came with it. It was mixed with Creek’s.
“Have a Holly Jolly holidays, Branch. Goodnight.” Creek said, winking at Branch as he pulled away. He turned, grabbing up his bag as he began walking away.
Remember when het harries made up an elaborate lie and story about Harry’s secret girlfriend C and they ran a troll blog spilling the secrets about the relationship…. sometimes I think we are right back in 2013