“My dear Watson.”
Irene/Joan requested by Luve.
(Source: weyniall, via wolfsisters)
- Irene wasn’t fridged
- Irene wasn’t a victim
- Irene wasn’t a generic love interest
- Irene beat Sherlock
- Irene took everyone’s preconceived notions of gender in criminals and lit them on fire
- Irene was a completely unrepentant HBIC
- Irene (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧
(Source: likeasummer, via baellor)
with all the world’s graces at her command
(Source: calikalie, via margaerystyrells)
(Source: cesarelucrezia, via wyllamanderly)
– You named a bee after me?
(Source: gusings, via spikettes)
But the final hour is called “Heroine” for a reason, as this is also a story about Joan Watson at the end of the day. In a case where Sherlock is at his weakest, and when he is unable to realize that the path to victory is failure because it means acknowledging that failure is even a possibility, it is Joan who sees more clearly. Joan isn’t afraid of Moriarty, but is rather protective of Sherlock (as both his sober companion and his partner), and the confusion that Moriarty’s emergence creates within Sherlock creates surety for Joan. If Sherlock only sees puzzles and Moriarty only sees games, Watson sees actual people: her interest in Sherlock is human, the kind of relationship that Moriarty can’t even imagine (referring to her as a mascot at one point in their lunch date). While the truth about Moriarty robs Sherlock of the most striking, human connection he believed he had ever made, the resulting investigation reaffirms a more powerful connection in his partnership with Joan, the newly discovered species of Newglassia Watsonia a metaphor for what happens when an extremely rare bee miraculously unexpectedly finds a compatible partner. — “The Woman”/“Heroine” Recap - The A.V. Club (via monkeyknifefight)
(Source: deepbutdazzlingdarkness, via monkeyknifefight)
Ming Xi after Christian Dior Haute Couture Fall/Winter 2012 at Paris
no see lesbians are not more accepted than gay men they’re more sexualized please do not get those 2 things confused
as if men had a monopoly on murder.
(Source: tuperting, via crestair)
When we speak of the morrow nothing is ever certain.