also sherlock is supposed to be looking down at the star john is handing him

PT.5

PT.1/ PT.2/ PT.3/ PT.4/ PT.6/ PT.7/PT.8/ PT.9/ PT.10/ PT.11/ PT.12/ PT.13

Sherlock was the first to wake the next morning. He yawned and sat up, taking a moment to survey his surroundings. Then a smile came to his lips as he remembered. He was with his John, he felt a hand rest on his and turned to find John still fast asleep, snoring lightly and grasping Sherlock’s hand as if his life depended on it. Sherlock had half a mind to lay back down and just watch him sleep but Rosie chose to ruin the peaceful moment by crying. Sherlock watched carefully as John stirred but didn’t wake up. He must have been exhausted to not even be bothered by the baby’s cries. Sherlock left the bed in the slightest of movements and tiptoed to Rosie’s room. He entered the bright room and honed in on the infant who was sitting up and crying as loud as she could.

Sherlock frowned and walked over to the crib. “What’s the matter, Rosie?” He picked her up and felt her diaper. It didn’t feel full. There was also no foul stench emanating from her, for which he was grateful. He rubbed her back and bounced gently hoping that it would do the trick. She quieted down a little, but she was still upset.

“You’re just hungry, aren’t you?” Her sniffle only confirmed it. He took her to the kitchen to look for the formula. When he found it, he set her down in her highchair to fix her bottle. Rosie didn’t find her new placement agreeable and screamed even louder than before. Sherlock sighed and put the bottle down to get her back in his arms. He kissed her head and tried to shush her before she woke John up. He thought he succeeded, but he heard John’s feet and him saying, “I’m here Rosie…I’m…Rosie?”

Sherlock chuckled and moved back over to her bottle. “We’re in here.”

John walked into the kitchen still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He stopped in the doorway and stared at Sherlock holding Rosie with one hand and holding the bottle with the other.

“Don’t just stand there, help me test her bottle.”

John blinked, but followed Sherlock’s command. Sherlock shook the milk onto John’s wrist, and then slipped the bottle into Rosie’s mouth when John gave the okay. They moved to sit on the sofa and no one spoke. Sherlock was whispering something to Rosie as she drank from the bottle, her eyes fixated on his own, and John fixated on him.

“How long have you been up with her?” Sherlock turned to John.

“We haven’t been up very long. I wanted to stop her crying before you woke up. I failed at that, it seems.”

John smiled down at his daughter and rested a hand on her leg.

“I thought you left, you know.”

Sherlock’s brows furrowed at John. “Left?”

“When I woke up and you weren’t in the bed I thought that…maybe I just dreamed everything…or you left.”

John felt a jolt of electricity course through him as he felt Sherlock’s soft hand clasp his own. The soft rumbling of his laugh excited him and caused him to laugh too.

“Where would I go, John? Have you forgotten why I’m here in the first place?” There was humor in Sherlock’s tone. It made John feel stupid for thinking such things.

“Heh, I don’t know. I was scared, I suppose.”

“John.”

John forced himself to look into those iridescent eyes and listen to what he had to say. He was caught off-guard by a kiss to his forehead. His mouth hung open trying to form words, but nothing came out. Sherlock then moved to stroke his cheek with his free hand and said, “Don’t worry, John. There’s no Holmes without Watson, wherever you are, I am.”

John closed his eyes and exhaled. “I’m a git aren’t I?”

Sherlock pondered the question before answering. He shrugged and said, “Yeah but you’re my git so it’s all fine. I don’t mind.”

Watching Sherlock’s lips curve into a smile, the brightest and widest he’s ever seen, he couldn’t help but fall even harder for the detective. He leant forward and placed a delicate kiss to his lips and nearly had trouble breaking the contact. Sherlock was beaming now and he held Rosie a little closer to himself.

“Yeah, I don’t mind either.”

——

Voila! I’m trying to do this stuff in increments. Like them kissing and being full on in a relationship, so slow-burnish? It’s still chock full of fluff.

@sappylock @vitruvianwatson @fortheloveofjawn @justsherlythings7 @willasherlyscottholmes @johnandsherlocks @maikanna @the-three-garridebs @akablue24 @worthless-dude @the-john-to-your-sherlock @angel-loving-star @toooldforthatsh–stuff @beekeepers-in-love @jubalya @im-batt-mellamy @random-nexus @imworkingonit86 @buckynotbuchanan @deathfrisbee-221b @teeeffdee @mycroftpotter @purplejayee @funkychickzz @bronzedviolets @now–what @wellthengameover @superspringles @gimmeastartoreachfor @orphengesic-tab @froggie95 @certaincollectiontravelerlove @enchanted-captainswan @sirarthurcanondoyle @watsonsanatomy @aconsultinghobbitinthetardis @loveismyrevolution @missmuffin221 @chulia25 @jazziejexbird @ink-in-murder @thegameisgay @usuallynotusual @sspectacularlyignorant @theelephantin221b @justinmymindpalace @masterofhounds @fallingoffbarts @sherlock-totally-loves-john @shayspieterse @loveteaelephants @tealfox-10-24 @cow-mow @vaticancameos-andtea @reallyimpossibleartisan @lets-play-muuurder @deathishauntedbyhumans @sairyn-noc @wholockian16 @221beestings @real-life-reichenbach @ttennis1121 @treacherous-siren @frozenrendezvous @beardchr @deliriouslylazyafternoons @hushwatson @chinike @jael3333 @fuck-off-watson @wilde-grrrl @pepperminotaur @castiel-is-not-a-god @bisexualowl

Annnnd I think that’s everyone! Please reblog/reply/like if you are enjoying this, and let me know if you would like to be tagged or I forgot to tag you! 

Thank you!

Not an Option (Part One)

Pairing: Reader X Sherlock Holmes (Sherlock BBC)

Prompt: You are a private investigator and you get put on a case with the infamous Sherlock Holmes. While at first your high intellects clash and cause arguments, it isn’t long before you both begin to warm up to one another.

Warnings: Mention of a violent crime scene

A/N: A couple of you guys said you would be interested in a mini-series coming out of my little picture set imagine (Imagine you and Sherlock working together on a case and Sherlock begins to develop feelings for you), so here it is!

*I do not own these GIFs* *I do not own BBC Sherlock* *I do not own BBC Sherlock characters*


Introduction: The case was basic on the surface. A man was found murdered in his flat above the bakery he owned. His body was found at 8:37pm by a woman who he had been seeing for the past few months when she was coming over to his place for a date. She called the police and that was how the famous detective Sherlock Holmes was assigned to the case. She then called the man’s family and that was how you were assigned.

“How many times must I tell you, I do not need some idiotic private investigator with a beer gut and a ketchup stain on his shirt breathing down my neck.” Sherlock growled in annoyance as he made his way down the hallway and away from the crime scene he had just finished combing over. 

It was almost 9:20pm and for him and John the night had just begun. The case, while at first appearing to be boring to Sherlock, had proven itself otherwise. When the detective and his partner entered the crime scene the smell was the first thing they had both noticed. Sage. Then it was the cryptic message on the wall written in the victim’s blood. “Go Away”. Lastly, it was the man’s body. A unrecognizable symbol carved into his chest.

“And how many times have I told you, this is not an option. Whoever the hell this guy is the family of the victim hired him to help out.” Lestrade bickered back while following the two men down the dark hall. “And besides if they’re that frustrating for you to work with just ignore them, you already ignore half the things we say to you.”

“More than half.” Sherlock mumbled as his foot reached the stairs that went down into the bakery.

Due to your taxi having to take a detour you had only shown up at the crime scene ten minutes ago. You had been informed that the detective you would be working with had already come and was upstairs examining the flat that the murder had taken place in. Considering how much you hated working with others you had decided to situate yourself at the front desk of the bakery and begin your research of the man whose family had hired you. 

It was the stampede of feet coming down the wooden stairs that peeled your eyes away from the screen of your iPad. The blue light illuminated your face as you looked up right as three men came out of the stairwell. 

“You must be the detectives I’m supposed to work with.” you spoke in a calm voice from your spot at the front counter of the bakery. “My name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” 

“Nice to meet you.” the shorter of the three men with gray hair stuttered slightly, as he walked over to you. He had a limp. He smiled as he stuck out his hand for you to shake. You placed your iPad down on the counter in front of you and stood up, gripping his hand firmly. 

Your father had always told you that a handshake was a fundamental piece in how a person would shape their first impression of you, especially in law enforcement. Police officers and detectives didn’t want to shake hands with a limp noodle and then have that limp noodle as their partner. Or at least that was what your father always said. 

“John Watson.” the man introduced before backing away and making room for the other man with gray hair to introduce himself.

“Greg Lestrade.” he smiled. He was blushing. Even in the dimly lit room you could see the red tone in his cheeks. Not many detectives or officers pictured a person like you when they thought of private investigator. Most of them imagined either an old guy from classic detective movies or a man with a ketchup stain on his shirt who was just trying to suck money out of people without doing anything. 

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” you introduced yourself back, shaking his outstretched hand as well. “I’m the private investigator the victim’s family has hired.” 

“It’s very nice to meet you.” Lestrade nodded. 

Your eyes then moved to the third man who was still standing silently at the base of the stares. He was fixated on his gloves. You watched as his hands worked together to pull the gloves up over each other. 

Lestrade must’ve noticed your look. 

“That’s Sherlock Holmes, he doesn’t have a conscience or any understanding of what socially acceptable things are so don’t get offended if he says something rude.” Lestrade warned as if that was a disclaimer he gave to almost everyone who had to work with the mysterious man.

“You’re a bit of a try hard aren’t you?” Sherlock suddenly said as if on queue.

“Like that.” Lestrade sighed, bringing his hand up to his face and rubbing his eyes. 

“Sherlock, play nice.” John warned. He glanced at you briefly only to see that a small smile had curled onto your face.

“And what makes you say that Mr. Holmes?” you questioned, crossing your arms and leaning your weight back on the counter. His question didn’t offend you. It intrigued you. 

“Your hair is brushed, your wearing a freshly cleaned blouse and ironed pants, your heels are new and although they’re clearly a knock off brand you still paid a good amount for them.” he began. He finally looked up at you as he continued. “Your lipstick compliments your skin tone perfectly, your makeup is fresh which means you put it on when you found out about the case. You only recently arrived at the crime scene and you immediately got to work while most women would make small talk with the police officers or at least be curious enough to walk upstairs and see who they are working the case with. You want to make a good impression on the family that hired you by doing good work but yet you also want to make a good impression on me by making sure your appearance is acceptable by social standards.” he finished. 

You could see in your peripheral vision John and Lestrade rubbing their hands on their heads in embarrassment, as if their child had just vomited in the middle of the grocery store aisle. 

“You’re right, I am a try hard.” you chuckled after several drawn out moments of silence. You pushed your body off of the counter and walked up to Sherlock, stopping once you were a few feet from him. “So what’s your reasoning?”

“Excuse me?” Sherlock asked, furrowing his eyebrow slightly in confusion.

“You’re cleanly shaven and it’s almost 9:30 at night. You’ve showered within the hour considering that your hair’s wet and it hasn’t rain in London for almost a week.” you began. Now it was your turn. “You took a mint to hide your coffee breath. And you’re just as guilty as me on the freshly cleaned shirt and ironed pants front. So if I’m a try hard than what’s your excuse for pulling your appearance together so much tonight? Maybe you’re a try hard too but considering the way you talk to people I’m assuming you know your ten times smarter and you also know that you don’t have to impress anyone.” you finished. 

The bakery went into silence once again as you and Sherlock kept your eyes locked on one another. After a minute of him not saying anything back you turned and grabbed your iPad before placing it into your bag and throwing it over your shoulder.

You noticed that John and Lestrade were looking at you with their mouths wide open. It was clear that no one had ever deduced Sherlock. 

“I’ll get a taxi.” you chuckled, laughing at the expression on the men’s faces before you exited from the bakery, the bell on the door jingling as it opened and closed. 

“I have a feeling she won’t be breathing down your neck.” John spoke after a moment of him and Lestrade starring blankly at Sherlock. However, Sherlock wasn’t looking back at them. His eyes were fixated on your figure through the glass window.

“I have a feeling he might want her too.” Lestrade whispered to John, noticing where Sherlock’s eyes were looking.

Meeting Sherlock (John Watson x Reader)

Request: ( @bestfluteninja ) hi! can you write a john x reader (girl reader) where john brings the reader home and sherlock deducts her and she’s upset (because let’s be honest, deducting sherlock can be an asshole) so then john comforts her? 

SHOUTOUT TO @love-doesnt-discriminate AND @sammy–moosechester FOR PROOFREADING YOU ARE BOTH ANGELS

Warnings: Female!Reader, Sherlock being an ass, little angst, fluff

Word Count:

Authors Note: Geez, this is my first time writing in a few months! Sorry, I just needed a break, but I’m back! Hope you all like this!


“Y/N, are you, um, sure you want to come over?” John asks nervously. He grabs my hand, and starts to fiddle with my fingers. 

“For the millionth time, yes,” I reply. I smile at him, hoping he’ll calm down. His eyes scan my face, and he nods. My hand closes over his, and we walk out of the restaurant. John gets us a taxi, and we head to his flat. I’m about to meet his flatmate, a man called Sherlock Holmes. John has talked about him occasionally, but I still haven’t met him. I’m also meeting the landlady, Mrs. Hudson. I’m somewhat nervous, but it all dissipates while trying to calm John down. 

“So, what is Mrs. Hudson like?” I ask, trying to keep John’s mind off of me meeting Sherlock. 

“Oh, she’s lovely,” he says, his eyes lighting up. “And you’re going to get on with her so well.” I begin to say something else when the taxi stops, brakes screeching. I hit the seat in front of me, as does John. The driver turns around and apologizes as we are getting out. I nod back at him and step out into the cold air. I take John’s hand as he leads me to his flat. 

The door reads 221B and has a knocker on it, a little too high for John to reach and certainly too high for me. He opens the door and walks in after me. The room I enter into is dark, with a set of stairs directly in front of me. He motions for me to go up, so I do. I never let go of his hand, nervousness curling in my chest. John gets on the step next to me and opens another door. Walking in first, he looks around for someone. I cautiously step in the room. Looking around, I see all kinds of things, from a violin to a skull. As I observe the walls and floors, I hear someone walk in. 

“Hello, dear,” an elderly woman says, patting John’s arm. Wavyish hair and bright eyes, she seems to be more than she looks. “And who might this lovely lady be?” I blush, and hold out my hand. 

“I’m Y/N,” I say, as we shake hands. “I presume you’re Mrs. Hudson?“ 

“You presume correctly,” she laughs. “Have a seat, dear, would you like some tea?” I nod, and she heads into the kitchen. John sits next to me and starts to say something when a man walks in. He has curly dark hair, dark eyes, and is wearing a long coat and a scarf.

“John, where wer-” he stops talking when he notices me. I wave slightly, and John stands up. 

“Sherlock, this is Y/N,” he says, somewhat pointing towards me. “Y/N, Sherlock." 

"Hi,” I say, practically above a whisper. Something about this man is different and intimidating. I don’t want to make a bad impression either. Mrs. Hudson comes back in with the tea, and smiles at Sherlock. "Thank y-“ 

"5 times?” Sherlock cuts me off. I look at him, confused. I can see a look of terror pass over John’s face, but it’s too late. “Is it 5 times or 4?" 

"I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I respond, “could you elaborate?" 

"The last 5 times you’ve plucked up the courage to ask a man out, you’ve been rejected,” he states calmly. My mouth drops open in shock. “Your phone is on and has multiple male contacts, too many for all of them to be coworkers. Some also haven’t been checked since months before you met John. Also, she’s into that ridiculous show Supernatural.” I lift a finger to ask how he knows, but he continues on. “There’s a partially visible tattoo on your ankle of a symbol from the show. You also haven’t told John that before this job you were working at a restaurant where you barely had enough money to survive. I recognize you from a certain place downtown. Now you work in law, but you absolutely hate your job. Your clothing choices are carelessly thought out, your face shows exhaustion from work, and you left early just to come here even though you had a client, am I correct?" 

I nod slowly. He smooths his coat and heads toward the kitchen. Stunned, I get up and head for the door. I hurry down the steps and onto the street, looking desperately for a taxi. 

"Y/N!” I can hear John shouting for me, running after me, but I keep walking. He catches up to me after a minute. Moving in front of me, he grabs my arms. His hands tighten as I try to walk away. 

“Y/N, please,” he says. Looking up at him, I can see the worry painted on his face. 

“Please don’t let Sherlock get to you,” John says. His breathing is erratic from running, but he continues. “He’s an idiot and has no filter. He didn’t mean to insult you in any way, and he’s just incredibly insensitive and ridiculous. I’m so sorry." 

"It’s fine, John, I’ll just go,” I say, trying to tug my arms away. Instead of letting go, he moves his hands up to my face. 

“Let me make it up to you, okay?” He whispers. I nod slowly, and he pulls me in. I close my eyes, and his lips touch mine softly. Fireworks start exploding in my stomach as I move my arms around his back. I’ve never felt anything like this before, nothing so perfect and meant to be. His lips fit mine like it was written in the stars, like this was supposed to happen. 

When he pulls away, he has a sheepish smile on his face. 

“Okay?” He asks. 

“Okay.” I reply, lacing my fingers with his. We walk down the street together, ready for whatever is to happen next.

Hello Detective Chapter 42

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8   Part 9   Part 10   Part 11   Part 12   Part 13   Part 14   Part 15   Part 16   Part 17   Part 18   Part 19   Part 20   Part 21   Part 22   Part 23   Part 24   Part 25   Part 26  Part 27  Part 28  Part 29 Part 30  Part 31  Part 32  Part 33   Part 34   Part 35   Part 36   Part 37   Part 38   Part 39   Part 40      Part 41   Part 42   Part 43   Part 44   Part 45   Part 46   Part 47   Part 48   Part 49 Part 50  Part 51  Part 52  Part 53  Part 54  Part 55   Part 56  Part 57 Part 58 Part 59 Part 60 Part 61

 Within a few days Moriarty was to be tried at the Old Bailey, and Sherlock was named a witness for the prosecution. You stood in his living room, putting your coat on and preparing to leave for the court house. The police were escorting Sherlock there, so you had come to pick him up.

“Ready?” You asked, as you were about to open the door, knowing there would be a bunch of press outside.

“Yes.” He answered and you pulled the door open. You had brought some officers, to keep the press at bay, to let Sherlock and you get to the car safely and efficiently.

Sherlock opened the door for you and you slid in the back before him. He closed the door and the car was off.

“Remember–” you began before Sherlock cut you off.

“Yes.” He said quickly. You were supposed to brief him and make sure he didn’t do anything stupid.

“Remember. Don’t try to be clever–” You began but he cut you off again. You wondered if he was nervous.

“No.” He turned to look outside of the car.

“And please, just keep it simple and brief.” You pleaded.

“God forbid the star witness in the trial should come across as intelligent.” He whined.

“Intelligent, fine. Just try not to be a smartass. I don’t want to have to bail you out because you couldn’t control your mouth and the judge threw you in contempt of court.” You said.

“I’ll just be myself.” Sherlock stated.

“Are you listening to me? Sherlock, please.” you sighed, and the car pulled up to the Old Bailey. You left him to go find John. He was already seated, so you cat down next to him.

“How is he?” He asked.

“I think he’s going to be okay. We’ll see if he behaves himself.” You smiled, and the trial had begun.

“A consulting criminal.” The Barrister began, Sherlock was now on the stand after some opening statements.

“Yes.” Sherlock replied.

“Your words, can you expand on the answer?” She asked.

“James Moriarty is for hire.” Sherlock said, keeping his answer simple, behaving thus far.

“A tradesman?” the barrister asked.

“Yes.” Sherlock answered.

“But not the sort who’d fix your heating.” she clarified.

“No, the sort who’d plant a bomb or stage an assassination, but I’m sure he’d make a pretty decent job of your boiler.” Sherlock said, eliciting a laugh from everyone.

“So far so good.” You whispered to John, he nodded.

“Would you describe him as–” the barrister began but was cut off by Sherlock.

“Leading.” He said shortly.

“What?” she asked, surprised.

“Can’t do that. You’re leading the witness. He’ll object and the judge will uphold.” Sherlock said.

“Mr. Holmes!” The judge sighed.

“Ask me how. How would I describe him? What opinion have I formed of him? Did they not teach you this?” He asked rudely.

“I think you jinxed it.” John whispered to you as you shook your head when Sherlock looked up to you.

“Mr. Holmes, we’re fine without your help.” the judge scolded.

“How would you describe this man, his character?” The barrister asked.

“First mistake, James Moriarty isn’t a man at all. He’s a spider. A spider at the center of a web. A criminal web with a thousand threads and he knows precisely how each and every single one of them dances.” Sherlock said grimly.

Suddenly a woman in a posh skirt with her hair in braids sat down next to you.

“Sergeant Gregson?” She asked, and you turned to look at her. “Kitty Riley from the Sun.”

You shook her hand that she had stuck out, just to be polite. You looked her up and down, deducing her.

“I’m not going to give you a quote, and neither is Sherlock, though you’ve already tried him haven’t you.” You whispered and rolled your eyes.

“You and Sherlock. Just platonic? Can I put you down for a no there as well?” She asked.

“I know how it feels Kitty. Waiting to be noticed, waiting for your big break. A woman in a man’s world. But you’re wasting your time here.” You told her, turning your attention back to the case.

“And how long–” The banister began again.

“No, no, don’t… Don’t do that. That’s really not a good question.” Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“Mr. Holmes.” The judge scolded again.

“How long have I known him? Not really your best line of enquiry. We met twice, five minutes in total. I pulled a gun. He tried to blow me up. I felt we had a special something.” Sherlock said.

Moriarty smirked and turned his head until it landed on you, his eyes glaring into your soul.

“Miss Sorrel, are you seriously claiming this man is an expert? After knowing the accused for just five minutes?” The judge asked. She was about to answer when Sherlock spoke.

“Two minutes would have made me an expert. Five was ample.” Sherlock said.

“Mr. Holmes, that’s a matter for the jury.” The judge argued.

“Oh, really.” Sherlock said, looking over to them.

“Oh, no.” You whispered.

“What?” John asked.

“I’m not overly fond of what follows.” You said, placing your head in your hands.

“One librarian, two teachers, two high-pressure jobs, probably the city. Foreman’s a medical secretary, trained abroad, judging by her shorthand. Seven are married and two are having an affair, with each other it would seem. Oh, and they’ve just had tea and biscuits. Would you like to know who ate the wafer?” Sherlock said.

“Mr. Holmes. You’ve been called here to answer Miss Sorrel’s questions, not to give us a display of your intellectual prowess. Keep your answers brief and to the point. Anything else will be treated as contempt. Do you think you could survive for just a few minutes, without showing off?” The judge yelled.

You knew it was impossible for him not to, so as you had predicted, you were up at 6am, bailing Sherlock out of jail. You leaned against the counter as Sherlock sighed the papers.

“I told you your mouth would get you in trouble some day…” You said, slightly annoyed that he didn’t listen to you, but also not surprised.

“I can’t just turn it on and off like a tap.” He said, pulling his phone out of a baggy where it spent the night.

“Well? You were there for the whole thing. Up in the gallery, start to finish.” Sherlock said.

“Like you said it would be. Sat on his backside the whole time, never even stirred. Moriarty’s not mounting any defence.” You said, talking about his attorney.

You took Sherlock back to his flat.

“Three of the most secure places in the country, and he still managed to break into all of them within five minutes apart, if that.” You said, sitting back on the couch, exhausted.

“I don’t get why. He wanted to be caught. He’d have the jewels if he wanted to, the prisoners would be freed if he wanted to. Then why do it, what message is he trying to send with this?” You asked.

“Somehow this is part of his scheme.” Sherlock said.

You returned to your flat to attempt to get a good night’s sleep, but you knew you wouldn’t. You also knew that after this trial you might be extremely busy and never get a chance to go to the doctors. You needed to take the day and go tomorrow, during the verdict. John would be there scouting for Sherlock, so there was no need for you to be there and it gave you time to do what you needed to.

The next morning you woke up, luckily to no morning sickness. You took a cab to the doctor, and approached the receptionist.

“Hi, my name is Y/N Gregson, I had an appointment with Dr. Shephard a few days ago, but I missed it with a work emergency, I work for Scotland Yard. Is there anyway she can fit me in real quick today?” You asked.

“Why don’t you have a seat and we’ll call you in a few minutes.” The receptionist nurse smiled.

You sat nervously for a few minutes before the nurse called your name. A woman, who you could only assume was Dr. Shephard was standing at the counter with her.

“If you’d like to follow me Ms. Gregson.” She smiled and lead you back into a room and motioned for you to sit down.

“I was worried when you didn’t make your appointment, but then I saw the news and I put two and two together, Sergeant Gregson. How’s the trial going on that Moriarty man?” She asked, making small talk.

“Well the verdict is today, but they’d be crazy not to find him guilty. He was caught on the security cameras and he is mounting no defense.” You answered.

“Anyway, what brings you in here today? It’s not everyday we get our own little celebrity in here.” She smiled.

“Well, you see I think, that maybe, possibly I could be…” You stumbled over your words.

“You think you’re pregnant, but you’re not sure so you want a blood test.” She helped.

“Yes.” You nodded nervously.

“This will only take a minute, then you can be on your way. We’ll send your blood to the lab then we will call you sometime later today with the results.” She said and you nodded.

Your phone rang as you were about to have your blood taken, you looked at it then back up at the doctor.

“Go ahead and take it, we can do this while you work.” she smiled, you nodded and answered the phone while she inserted the needle.

“What’s the news John?” You asked through the phone.

“Not guilty!! They found him not guilty!” He yelled, and your eyes went wide.

“Did you tell Sherlock?” you asked.

“Yes I just told him, this is insane. Where were you? I thought you would definitely be there for the verdict.” John asked.

“I had a prior engagement. John I can’t really talk right now, but thanks for letting me know.” You said, hanging up the phone.

“We’re all done here Sergeant, if you would leave your number at the desk on your way out so we could contact you with the results.” She smiled, and lead you out the door. You were still in shock that Moriarty was a free man.

“I just need your contact information Sergeant.” The nurse at the desk asked, pushing a paper and pen towards you.

“Of course.” You filled out the paper quickly, sliding it back to her.

“Thank you…” you looked to her name tag. “Mary.”

You hailed a cab and headed to Baker Street. You decided you weren’t going to tell Sherlock anything until you knew for sure.

Ok, this is in reply to this thread started by @1895itsallfine that I can’t reblog because someone in it got me blocked (? I guess?).

It deals with the reasons why S4 went down as it did, why johnlock was abandoned after S3/TAB, and asks if the BBC or ACD trust are to blame.

I’d just like to chip in my 2 cents.

I don’t think so. The BBC produced things like London Spy. They don’t have an initial problem with gay characters. Most ACD stories are in the public domain. Allegedly, the BBC pays the trust anyway. Imagine the trust in 2017 taking the BBC to court because they made Holmes and Watson a gay couple on their show. The public outcry! It would fall back badly on the trust. There might have been a silent pay off instead. The BBC is not some small player, it’s one of the biggest TV corporations in the world. If they wanted to, they could have taken on the ACD trust.

Of course, there’s always politics to consider. The BBC gets critizised by the Torie government a lot. The head of drama changed. And one fandom theory goes that it would be such a big scandal/secret to make Holmes and Watson gay that it was something that had to be fought for, that it was controversial and probably a big reveal, that perhaps some people high up were against it. Which I never understood.

Honestly, I think the first misconception of parts of the fandom - and especially tjlc - was that it would be a BIG thing to make Holmes and Watson a gay couple on a Britsh TV show. It might be in Russia, or China - but not in Western Europe in 2009. It just isn’t. If they wanted to, they could have done it - and no one could have stopped them. But they didn’t want to go there in the first place. That was the second misconception of the fandom (but it was not without reason, it was deliberately fed).

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A Bet; Sherlock x Reader x John

Requested by Anon: Hello! Could you please do a sherlock x reader where Sherlock and John fight over your affection and you end up (unknowingly) choosing sherlock. And John is sad until he bumps into Mary and meets her on the street. (Sorry that it’s kind of out of sync.) can you also make it rather long? Thank you!😘😘😘


“Alright boys, I’m headed out. Try to behave I don’t want to visit the hospital again so soon,” you told Sherlock and John as you grabbed your coat.

“No guarantees,” Sherlock said from his chair thinking about a recent case he had just solved.

“John?” you called as a last resort.

“We’ll be fine. In case you’ve forgotten we are two fully grown men,” John relayed with a classic Watson smile.

“Well… you sometimes have self-destructive tendencies and Sherlock’s a sociopath but… sure, fully grown men,” you reassured yourself before walking out the door.

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howterrifying  asked:

I've got a song in mind, if you would - "Little Wanderer" by Death Cab for Cutie. Do with it what you wish because you're bloody amazing and I've no idea why I'd never thought of sending you prompts before. p.s. I'm sort of in love with you, hope you don't mind. xx

I’m terribly late with this, hah, typical. The song gave me an idea, besides making me listen repeatedly to ‘Turning Page’ by Sleeping at last. Odd how that happened. Anyway, it’s a wee bit rough. Forgive my mistakes and thank you very much sweetie! Also it’s like almost 4000 words, heh. 

Important note - Sherlock Series 3 AU ‘where Sherlock does fly away and Moriarty doesn’t return from the dead.’


When the planets align

Black liquid spluttered into her cup. The coffee machine humming loudly until the Styrofoam cup was just half-full, and the machine once again fell silent. Molly grimaced at the unhappy sight, taking a small tentative sip of what tasted like the bottom of a coffee cup that had the luxury of staying a week on a kitchen counter untouched. 

It would have to do, she thought, eyes fluttering shut imagining that it tasted something half-decent drizzled with hazelnut on top of the foam. Emptying it she made a face and begun her trek through the dull hallways of the hospital. Very few residents were walking about, though she was unsurprised to see Mike Stamford appear with a mug that said ‘the boss’ with a huge bold font. 

“Morning Molly,” he said grinning at her. She tried to return the same enthusiastic grin, but she only managed to stretch her mouth a tiny bit, the caffeine hadn’t taken its hold yet quite yet. “The rain is pouring outside of course, which it would. The minute I think we’re catching a break because he’s off for six months - the rain never seems to end - - well - we’ll make do-,” he added in much more morose tones, trying to match her mood by sheer sympathy.

“Who’s off for six months?” she said at a loss.

Mike raised his brows at her, pausing for a second before his eyes widened in some realisation. “Oh - oh - right, umm, Sherlock? - He’s gone on some top-secret mission for his big brother. He’s going to be gone for about six months apparently… I thought you’d have heard-,”

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anonymous asked:

Prompt :D It's been a year since Tom and Molly broke up. John tells Sherlock that he should hurry up and ask Molly out because it's the right time. After days of practice, Sherlock took out his courage and went to Barts but when he was about to ask Molly out, he noticed her wearing her favorite dress. He asks her why and she replied 'I'm going out with Tom again!' and he gets heartbroken.

okay warning guys this is gonna be sad. Also, I don’t know what this says about my angsty side but I’m super proud of this one, so show it some love please~

“Molly, I want to…" 

"I wanted to tell you…" 

"Molly Hooper, I told you that you mattered and I…" 

Sherlock gave a growl of frustration, collapsing on the couch, his back facing the world. Screw John. What did timing matter anyway? His lip curled. It wasn’t like he cared for emotions anyway. 

The image of a woman with chestnut hair flashed through his mind, and he felt a sudden wave of nervousness, but he tamped it down. He was Sherlock Holmes, for crying out loud. Sentiment would never be a mystery, and the workings of the human mind he understood even better. 

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People, this looks like it could be a clue…

@chimpsinsocks Amanda Abbington posted this on Twitter 18 hours ago, with the introduction: This is for lovers… running away. Which could possibly be interpreted entirely innocently, OR as “this is for lovers (of the show)… (I’m) running away now (before you start bombarding me with questions/insults).” OR “this is for lovers (of the show)… (who are now) running away from the ship.”

 Obviously I don’t believe in astrology (am a scientist) but might be a clue. Aries, at the top would correspond to John Watson, if we take one of his supposed birth dates as March 31st (July 7 (Cancer) and Aug 7th (Leo) have also been suggested but March 31st seems to be used in fandom).

“Aries: An aries will be so closed off at first, you will wonder if they are into you at all. if their wall will ever come down. but it will, slowly, and once it does, there’s no going back. because they will look at you like you’re everything they’ve ever dreamed of and they will act stupid just to make you laugh.”

Possibly referencing Sherlock’s “married to my work” moment in ASiP, the slooooow development, John’s looks at Sherlock and the fact John is supposedly the stupid one (but ‘cleverer than he looks’). The walls could refer to the walls in Eurus’ cell, the 4th wall, or god knows what else.

Sherlock’s birthday (as shown in TLD) is Jan 6th or Jan 9th, either way makes him a Capricorn. We can see Capricorn also included in Amanda’s screenshot:

“Capricorn: A Capricorn is a rare person to get through to, in a feelings type of way. So if you do, you’re special. they will always be laughing around you always ready for whatever you want to do. they’ll say all the things you want to hear, but they’ll really mean them.” 

Ahem. “rare person” I think it means it’s hard to access this person’s feelings. Sherlock would certainly qualify. “if you do” you’re special. John is Sherlock’s “only friend” back in HotB. Tessa’s “No, this is special, let’s take it slowly”, and John’s “I’m there if you want it.” Plus running to do whatever Sherlock wants, always. “They’ll say all the things you want to hear” - John’s constant praise which makes Sherlock preen like a cat, to the point he even hear’s John’s praise when John isn’t there (TEH).

Further investigation:

In the interests of science I did a reverse image search and it came back with NOTHING. This may be an indication that the piece was written for the purpose of sharing as a clue. Alternatively it could have been taken by Amanda from a print copy of something that is not on the web - and thus perfectly innocent.

What about the other star signs? Star signs are written in such a way that they could apply to anyone - people will see what they want or expect to see in their horoscope. And unfortunately that’s true of this - some of the other horoscopes shown could also refer to Sherlock or John, though a couple - Virgo for example, doesn’t sound right at all.

Interestingly Cancer and Leo which would also be possibly John star signs have: Cancer: “their admiration for you will never be questioned”, and Leo: “long texts..” “yours whenever you need them to be.” and follows up with “They will kiss you hard…”

Could this be coincidence: “I’ll be next door if you need me” (ASiB) and “I’m there if you want it.” (TSoT)?

Also worth mentioning Amanda followed up last night with three hearts and an Obama picture and the quote: “No one should be afraid to walk down the street holding hands with the one they love.” Which is very very definitely an LGBT reference. 

I just had an amazing thought…. what if S4 starts out in the mind palace - since we’re still in it at the end of TAB - and zooms up to present day to Sherlock waking up in the car on the tarmac, showing us some of what we missed in his life between TRF and TEH. Then later in the episode we see flashbacks to what John was doing in those exact moments.

*Sherlock in Prague, clearly under cover, steps out for a cigarette. He gets out his phone and starts a blank text to John. He stares at the empty screen for a bit, only to give up and put it back in his pocket.*

*Sherlock in Beijing, still undercover, walks down a dark alley. He looks up at the stars and says, “Beautiful, isn’t it?” to no one beside him. He stops walking. Dismayed, he pulls out his phone and goes on John’s blog. He’s about to comment on a post but decides not to. Sighing, he puts his phone away and keeps on walking.*

*Sherlock in Paris, after almost two years away, pulls out his phone and starts a blank text for John. “I’m not dead. Let’s have dinner.” He doesn’t have the courage to send it. He throws the phone on the ground in anger and it breaks to pieces. Hands to his face, his breath steadying, he gathers himself and boards a train for yet another cold, lonesome journey.*

After a few short scenes, Sherlock is awake and out of the mind palace for good. The POV shifts to John for the rest of the episode. After precautions are taken with Moriarty for the time being, we see John in a therapy session with Ella. She asks him to remember and recount happy times he had with Mary. The three examples John gives are direct comparisons to the three times Sherlock tried to reach out.

*Mary, a new nurse at the clinic, is chatting up a depressed John. “You are very handsome when you smile. That is, you would be if you ever smiled.” John smirks slightly at that remark. “Well, maybe I was just waiting to meet someone who gives me something to smile about” John replies smoothly. “I take it you’re unattached, then?” Mary inquires. John let’s out a small sigh as he hesitates. “That’s quite a forward question, Ms Morstan.” His text alerts once, twice, three times. He stares deep into her eyes but breaks it after the fourth text. He can’t help but to check the phone. He never gets texts anymore. He doesn’t have any actual friends, after all. A small part of him hopes against all odd that it’s Sherlock. But it isn’t. “So, is there a lucky woman out there who speaks for you?” Mary presses. “No, there is no woman,” John confidently replies.*

*John puts away Sherlock’s birthday video as Mary comes in to look at his flat for the first time. She asks to freshen up in the bathroom, allowing John a few minutes to reread his old blog. He gets lost in the nostalgia and doesn’t hear Mary approach him. “What are you reading?” Mary asks playfully. John jumps and abruptly closes the laptop. “Nothing, just some old stuff. Come on, we better get going or we’ll be late.” John and Mary leave the flat, the camera lingering on the crystal skull John has in his liquor cabinet.*

*John and Mary are out to dinner at an Indian restaurant. Mary and John are laughing, relaxed and happy. “Look at us, we make a great couple,” Mary smiles confidently. John feels warm, but he also feels empty. He smiles weakly back at her. “Mary, you’ve turned my life around. The way nothing else could.” John quietly lifts his glass to her, thinking about the way Sherlock turned his life around. Then his cell phone chimes. John’s heart starts racing. “Go ahead and check it, I can tell you’re eager to see who it’s from” Mary teases. John pulls out his phone and sees a text from Mike Stamford. “You know what? I’m turning this off. No use letting my phone interrupt our nice evening.” John, quietly angry, powers down his phone and shoves it back into his pocket.*

After hearing all of these “Happiest moments with Mary” Ella now asks John, “What are your happiest memories with Sherlock?” John responds, “How am I supposed to choose?”

potterlockianegalitarian928  asked:

Unable to find a present he deems worthy enough,Sherlock decides to play the composition he just finished for Molly for her birthday

Thanks for the prompt! Sorry it’s taken a while to fill it! I hope you like what I’ve done with it!

The final note rang throughout the silent flat for several seconds, before Sherlock removed his bow from the strings and set the violin aside without a second thought. The awestruck expressions on the faces of most of his friends went overlooked, as his gaze focused on the one person whose reaction actually mattered.

Molly Hooper stood motionless across the room, an unreadable expression on her face.

“Well? What did you think?”

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anonymous asked:

Prompt: Ruby meets baby Holmes for the first time (pleeeeeaaaassseee :3)

“It’s not permanent…the pain; think…focus on after. Think of that, what we’ll have. Uh…remember our honeymoon? The museum you found of diseases and old fashioned medicine? We spent much longer than needed there…afterwards, the beach…the sand and the stars I don’t care about…we just talked. But, the hotel…when we got to our
suite-“

Sherlock paced the corridor so fiercely, John feared he would wear a hole in the tiles. The ace detective seemed uncertain of what to do with hands, switching them from his hair, to running over his face, folded across his chest and stuffed in his pockets.

"Is this normal? This isn’t normal…why am I not allowed in?”

“Stop worrying. Molly has had a healthy pregnancy and she’s going to deliver your healthy, beautiful son…it’ll be alright,” John reassured, clapping his shoulder and offering a relaxed smile.

“Mmm.”

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And The Winner Is...

Sherlock and Molly go undercover as engaged couple Mary Popham and Bert Beckham in order to solve the murder of Poindexter fforde-Banks. Does real romance ensue? Have you read my stories???

So here it is, the penultimate story for my 20 Sherlolly prompts! Only one more to go in this series! Thanks for sticking with it and for all the lovely comments, they make my day! Available on ff.net here and AO3 here.

This is dedicated to Forthegenuine: Sherlolly with a statue and medals (because of a lovely message she sent me when I was asking for prompts!)

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