and the times when sherlocks face is on screen


PT.1| PT.2| PT.3| PT.4| PT.5| PT.6| PT.7| PT.8| PT.10| PT.11| PT.12| PT.13

He called me love.

And that seemed to be the one word that Sherlock heard after their morning together. When he finally joined John in Rosie’s room, the blond already had the baby laid out on the changing table. Her diaper was just removed. John looked up at Sherlock and smiled. He reached his hand toward the baby’s items and said, “Could you get me a wipe and nappy, love?”

There it was again. John called him that word. He called him love. For a moment, he nearly forgot that John asked him to get something. He went and got the items and handed them over to John, then retreated to leaning on the doorway.


Sherlock rested his head on the wood, suddenly feeling drunk with affection for John.

The second time, they were in the living room, Rosie was demolishing her stuffed bee while watching the television. Sherlock was sat on the couch while John fixed them breakfast. John’s specialty was eggs with beans on toast. Sometimes, he would sneak a few slices of ham from Mrs. Hudson while she was away and then cook it for their meal. Sherlock never much cared for breakfast, but with John, he would gladly sit and share a meal. He looked into the kitchen to see his lover standing over the stove humming some tune in his head. Sherlock smirked at how adorable he found the man to be at times. Rosie was tugging at his pant leg, he looked down and saw the blue-eyed baby smiling up at him with her fist in her mouth.

“Oh, did you finally grow bored of mutilating that poor bee?”

He looked over at the once fluffy bee and sighed. It was a gift for her and this was how she treated it. He placed her on his lap and watched the children’s show. He let her grab his ring finger and briefly, Sherlock imagined a gold band on it. He shook his head. John said he loved him, not that he wanted to marry him. For everything that’s happened, John may not be too keen on the thought of remarrying.

“Time to eat, love.” John’s smile made Sherlock dizzy. How could such a mouth show this much emotion?

I am his love

Sherlock looked down at Rosie and whispered, “I am his love, Rosie.” To which the infant just continued to suck on her fist. He seated himself at the table after placing Rosie in her special chair directly in front of the television. John was waiting for him. They shared a glance before digging in. While they ate, Sherlock felt John’s leg brush against his. Maybe it was an accident, Sherlock thought. But then he felt the leg again. He blushed and tried to hide his face from the chuckling man across the table.

“What’s the matter? Do you want me to stop?”

Sherlock reacted faster than he could think and shook his head. John put his fork down and sat back, trying to get a good look at Sherlock’s face. Sherlock resisted every urge he had to look John in his eyes and kept eating.

“You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

Sherlock shrugged cursing his blushing cheeks. “I’ve been told.”

“Oh yeah? By who?”


Sherlock’s smile turned smug when he saw John’s cheeks matching his own. Now they matched. John grinned at him.

The third time was when they took to lounging together on the sofa while Rosie dominated whatever they had on the television. John tried to change to the news for a moment and Rosie started shrieking whenever anything other than the Teletubbies on the screen. So, there they were, stuck watching the Teletubbies. John was indifferent to it, Sherlock, was horrified at how children found such frightening creatures entertaining.

John was lying in between Sherlock’s legs, with his head resting on his chest. Sherlock had his arms wrapped around John’s so that his hands were laying on his chest. John’s hands were rubbing Sherlock’s arms slowly, it was very ticklish.

“Care for tea, love?”

He’s in love with me.

“Yes, I do.”

John got up to fix their cups and Sherlock was left to think about John calling him that word so many times in one day.

That night, they were both in Rosie’s room trying to find ways to coax her to sleep. Sherlock was rubbing her stomach and shushing her, meanwhile John tried to give her warm milk. When she finally fell asleep, they stood over her crib and watched her little chest rise and fall softly. John yawned and said, “Are you ready for bed?”

Sherlock nodded. “Just give me a moment to brush my teeth.”

John rose on his tippy toes to kiss Sherlock’s lips. “I’ll see you in bed, love.”

After John walked out the room, only one thing crossed his mind.

I love him.


There will be plenty more times of John calling Sherlock “love” so don’t worry guys! 

@sappylock @vitruvianwatson @fortheloveofjawn @justsherlythings7 @now–what @im-batt-mellamy @bronzedviolets @aconsultinghobbitinthetardis @deathfrisbee-221b @the-john-to-your-sherlock @the-three-garridebs @akablue24 @worthless-dude @angel-loving-star @beekeepers-in-love @jubalya @imworkingonit86 buckynotbuchanan @johnandsherlocks @teeeffdee @mycroftpotter @purplejayee @funkychickzz @wellthengameover @superspringles @gimmeastartoreachfor @orphengesic-tab @froggie95 @enchanted-captainswan @sirarthurcanondoyle @watsonsanatomy @loveismyrevolution @missmuffin221 @chulia25 @jazziejexbird @ink-in-murder @thegameisgay @usuallynotusual @sspectacularlyignorant @theelephantin221b @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 @wilde-grrrl @pepperminotaur @castiel-is-not-a-god @bisexualowl @simpleanddestructivechemistry @miss-phanatic @cj-holmes @escaroles @bleedingverses @bvil23 @gobacktobakerstreet @wingedpurplewords @aznaks @johnlock-reality @clueless-kait @katthepotato @heartsherlocked @johnlockissquishy @there-is-no-inbetween @busybiscute @whereisjawn @mrsfleurytatro @august-emerald @zedkay068 @ordinaryangel @my-sun-my-baelish @morgendaemmerung89 @mishezza @imperfectoreoashley @consultinghubbies @emc-starkid 

Annnnd I think that’s everyone! 

Oxygen (Doctor Who) & Sherlock parallels

Previous Doctor Who/Sherlock parallels in Series 10:

The Pilot (opening episode of Doctor Who Series 10) & Sherlock parallels

The Smile (Doctor Who) & (smiley) Sherlock

The Smile (Doctor Who) & Sherlock parallels

And a look back at Series 9 etc parallels here

And: Looking back: Jenny & Vastra & Foreshadowing The Plan

Breaking through the Eurovision and my birthday madness to give you this! ;) This episode was written by Jamie Mathieson.

  • We open with a couple, one trying to admit their feelings to the other: “You realise life can be so brief, so I just wanted to tell you, if we get through this…” Here, it’s a possible pregnancy announcement, but it’s set up similarly to Sherlock’s “John, there’s something I should say” at the end of His Last Vow. There, it was an aborted declaration of love- and in Doctor Who the moment literally becomes a dying declaration of love as one of the two die- see here for more thoughts on John & Sherlock, and the aborted/dying declaration of love trope.
  • Nice moment again acknowledging the double meaning of phrases- one saying “I still can’t hear you. You’re wasting your breath.” You can take this literally- he literally can’t hear the other. and they are literally ‘wasting’ the oxygen they need to survive. But, it also symbolises a break down in communication, neither truly ‘hearing’ what the other wants- like John and Sherlock literally not hearing each other when Sherlock is in Soo Lin’s flat in The Blind Banker- they’re not communicating their relationship to each other properly.
  • The Doctor drawing a skull on the blackboard again reminds me of Sherlock and his skull.
  • The Doctor took an oath to guard the vault= Sherlock taking a vow to “always be there” in The Sign of Three.
  • When they come across the first walking corpse (hey, Mary is the “dead woman walking in The Six Thatchers ;) ), Bill is disturbed that he remains standing in his suit: “Can we just lie him down?” Reminds me of The Lying Detective, where Culverton says people pretending to be dead in films are “just living people lying down.” For more, see:  The Lying Detective Opening: John stopped lying down= John living ‘a dead man’s’ existence
  • Bill asking the Doctor “Do people ever hit you?” and the Doctor replying “Well, only when I’m talking.” Seems like Sherlock has that problem. ;) John in A Scandal in Belgravia: “I always hear punch me in the face when you’re speaking but it’s usually subtext.”
  • The effect of the screen turning red when Bill blacks out is very similar to the cliffhanger ending of The Lying Detective. For more on that moment and it’s possible references (*whispers* Bond…) see here. 
  • The Doctor repeating that he “needs to think”, just like Sherlock.
  • The Doctor saying they have “five whole minutes” left. Five minutes (and years) is a recurring time mention in Sherlock- see Someone’s got “five years” on their mind.
  • The Doctor’s quip: “I’m sorry, I just thought I was tweeting.” Compare with John in The Lying Detective“Sherlock on twitter? He really has lost it.”
  • Throughout the episode, the Doctor keeps plans from everyone because he knows they will hurt- Sherlock keeps his plan from John in The Lying Detective “because he won’t like it.”

Thanks for reading and see you next week! <3 x

Dracula themes and references in Sherlock: series 1


AS I began to write about my favourite scene in TGG: The Golem, planetarium fight, what I consider to be the emotional climax of series 1, I began to realise that the theme of Dracula/Nosferatu was not just in this scene but that it ran through the show.  At the planetarium the scene turns around on Sherlock and he goes from Dracula to Harker and must face his own seduction.  

This is why there’s such a change from Sherlock’s look in series 1 to series 2.  In ASiB, we see Sherlock eating in the first third of the episode. He seems healthy and robust and there are a lot of scenes in sunny daytime.

I have come to see the Golem/planetarium fight scene as the climax of the Dracula theme, as well as the emotional climax.  For that is a story about seduction and giving in to forbidden, frightening pleasures.  About the incredible seductive power of a lonely, mysterious man, who will take your will and make you his slave.


Dracula shows us a piece of the Victorian psyche.  Its themes show us the sexual anxieties of the time.  Including but not limited to:

*homosexual fear (Harker)

*fear of unbridled sexuality 

*fear of blood-bourne illness

*fear of penetration

*xenophobia, fear of foreigners, ‘from the East’

*fear of the loss of the maternal instinct in women (Lucy)

*fear of female sexuality (Nina)



In Series 1, in John’s interaction with Sherlock we see him as Jonathan Harker arriving at a strange and mysterious man’s home.  We see him eat while Sherlock does not.  We see that a significant portion of the plot occurs after nightfall.  Sherlock’s makeup is very pale and ghostly, a marked change from the original pilot where he looked much more accessible and less other-wordly.  The way that his coat collar is turned up is reminiscent of Dracula’s cape collar.  

The lighting and camera work are often suggestive of being in a spell or trance.  Throughout ASiP, especially we see Sherlock lit in a very soft and cool lightning emphasising his facial beauty and also giving him an ethereal quality.  The camera work when Sherlock explains his first set of deductions about John is very spinny.  It’s dizzying in its focus, it’s almost like an early version of the TBB, 'spinny kiss’, it has the effect of two men mesmerised by looking at each other.  But, always the emphasis is on Sherlock’s 'otherness’.  John, here, looks very handsome but very everymanish.  Sherlock, looks as otherworldly and dapper as we’ve ever seen him. 

Note: the movie Nosferatu has changed the names of the characters because they could not get permission to use them.  Hence, Dracula becomes Orlok, Harker becomes Hutter (which reminds me of Hudders) and Nina becomes Ellen.



First parallel to Nosferatu: John bolts up in bed, awoken from a dream.  He has not yet met Sherlock.  In the Dracula subtext, this is John being called to Sherlock, whom he will soon meet,

Ellen bolts up in bed, awoken from a dream about Dracula.  She has not yet met Dracula.  This is Dracula summoning her from a dream,

HLV, John bolts up from a dream about Sherlock, looking like Dracula, things are becoming more explicit,


Introduction to Sherlock as supernaturally omnipresent:


Our first look at Sherlock.  Note his first interaction, here, is with a dead body,

Classic Bela Lugosi as Dracula,



Hutter, eating dinner at Dracula’s,

Orlok, not eating/doesn’t need to eat.  Trying to act normal, reading,

Sherlock, not eating/doesn’t need to eat,

Nosferatu Parallel, at the Roland-Kerr Further Education College.  What sort of, 'further’, education might Sherlock and John require?



Sherlock still not eating,

This spin is disorienting and hypnotic.  Dracula puts you under a spell that you cannot combat,

Not sleeping/doesn’t need to sleep,




In TGG, the Dracula tables are about to turn on Sherlock.  Note that in this episode John wears his coat collar turned up.

This symbolizes reciprocity: Sherlock cannot be only the seducer without eventually acknowledging that he’s also the seduced.  He is under John’s spell, too,

Sherlock is still not eating,


The Golem

The most iconic reference to Nosferatu is his shadow.  Here is the Golem as Nosferatu,

Here we have Sherlock as the Nosferatu and John as Hutter,

And then, the opposite: John as Orlok and Sherlock as Hutter.  This is the meaning of the Golem scene: Sherlock faces that he’s fallen for John as well,

Now, here we have two Hutters vs The Golem.  Fear of feelings and fear of sex.  With far away melancholy look of fear and already-panting look of fear.  Exit sign shows urge to flee due to these fears,

Feeling concerned about his body: 'where’s my penis symbol?’  

“Don’t worry I brought it and will give it to you”,

Note this happens again in HLV.  "Do you have your phallic symbol/boner?  Here I will give it to you",

Ever notice how much professor Cairns (caring?) looks like Sherlock?  She is the person that the Golem is there to kill.  She is looking for information, knowledge.  Here, she looks particularly, 'illuminated’.  She’s looking for knowledge of the solar system, Sherlock’s code for, 'feelings’, and while she could have googled this on her phone in like 5 seconds, she’s here, dramatically engaging with some 20th century technology,

Note that she also looks like John.  She’s wearing a grey open sweater vest, and has blonde hair.  She is a visual mash-up of our protagonists,

Here come Sherlock, armed with feelings and a boner.  Notice how John is specifically not inside the feelings circle.  John’s okay with his feelings,

Golem’s shadow, once again, contrasted with the exit.  The urge to flee is strong when it comes to facing the Golem,

No other scene in Sherlock is as disorienting and chaotic as this fight scene.  This is one of the most vulnerable moments for Sherlock, since he’s entirely out of his element.  In the realm of feelings, fighting an man symbolic of male seduction and loss of control.

Rendered helpless from behind,

Such a romantic moment, here.  "Save me, Janus!  Do you see what’s going on?“

'Don’t worry, baby, I got this.  Look at me, I’m smiling’,

Immediately the Golem’s like, 'you’re not afraid?  You’re next, bro!’  And John’s like, 'ahhh!  I am afraid, dammit!’

Hey, Sherlock, the Golem’s going to throw John at you.  You ready?  (With intense pink between-his-legs feelings)

The editing does a beautiful nod to old films in this obvious instance.  It brings me great pleasure.  Sherlock falls to our left with what looks like a film burn mark on the bottom of the screen,

Yet, he gets up and is directly in front of the Golem.  This is a purposeful break in continuity as homage to early films,

Sherlocks gets knocked down to our left for a second time,

The Golem attacks,

John jumps on the Golem, symbolizing that he is the Golem.  He’s the one seducing him, like Dracula would,

The emotional climax: John 'saves’ him from the Golem.  But, when his hands pull away from Sherlock’s face, his reaction is unusual.  He looks relaxed, surprised, and a bit wistful, is he sad to see the hands go away? Maybe it’s a matter of, 'you don’t know what you got 'til it’s gone’?

We must remember that when Dracula attacks you, he does not overpower you with force but with his magical charms.  By the time he’s on you, you want him to be there.  He makes you want it,

Notice the unusual gesture of the hands.  They, too, look relaxed and not threatening or tense,

Notice the size and shape of the hands is much more suggestive of John’s hands than of the Golem’s hands.  When they are near his heart, more light orbs appear, symbolising Sherlock’s feelings.  This is Sherlock under John’s spell,


Stay tuned for some other Dracula themes in the rest of the story.

Why Are You Crying?

Request:  Could you do a newt x reader fic, set in modern day where she is watching Sherlock and she cries because he jumps off the roof, but newt doesnt understand and he is very confused x thanks

~Sounds adorable. I hope you enjoy!~

You sat clutching a pillow on the couch. “No, no, please.” you breathed, eyes glued to the TV screen. You were watching one of your favorite shows, Sherlock and this was the hardest episode to watch by far.

Keep reading

making ends meet

No violins, no candlelight. No trauma, fight or danger. No long conversations or emotional upheavals. No ardent words or fleeting touches.

It just … happened …. on a sunny Tuesday afternoon while paying bills.

Joan sat on the library sofa, laptop perched on her crossed legs. “We can’t keep this up. If we, and by we, I mean you, continue spending like this, we are going to end up in our eighties huddled in the dark, burning our furniture for warmth.”

From the floor where he sat sorting notes, Sherlock looked up slightly amused at the scenario. “Come Watson, it can’t be as bad as all that.”

“Two hundred fifty one dollars for mealworms, six hundred seventy three dollars and forty nine cents for a one hour rental of a Komodo dragon…” she looked up from her laptop. “I didn’t know you could rent lizards. It would have come in handy on the Roberts case.”

“Hmm, yes,” he scrambled up from the floor and joined her on the couch.  "I recently found a herpetologist with a splendid array of specimens. Of course, the research must be done on site under his supervision. Quite a decent sort of chap.“ His face registered his excitement. "You should come with me next time.”

Joan rolled her eyes in amusement, “You are missing the point. We need to spend less or at least spend more wisely …”

“Alright,” he slumped back onto the sofa realizing she would not be derailed. “I will spend less on lizards and worms, if you will scale back on your shoe purchases.” Sherlock looked at her cheekily, waiting for the indignant reply.

She didn’t take the bait. “It’s a deal.  I’ll start shopping at Target and you at Petsmart.” Joan side-eyed a crooked smile at him.

They sat in silence for a bit as she reviewed the spreadsheet and entered more data.

“Is that how you see our future? Two wizened old souls, cuddling for warmth?”

She noted the verb change. “Yup. Wouldn’t be all that bad, would it?” Joan turned and looked at him.

“No, I suppose not. Research shows that human contact, hugging, cuddling and the like, besides physical warmth, provides a myriad of health benefits, cardiovascular …”

She scrolled down the page. “No! Sherlock! Two thousand dollars on an old door?”

Sherlock sat up and squinted at the screen. “Oh, that … that’s the door from the hotel room of that 1933 murder case I’ve been working on. I believe it has answers to yield.”

Joan shook her head, closed the cover on the laptop and set it aside.  She sighed and sat back, “I give up.”

“The door is solid oak. It shall burn quite nicely when the time comes.” He blinked at her with mock sincerity. She stared at him blankly. He tilted his head and extended an arm, “Fancy a cuddle?”

The look on his face made her smile. Joan leaned in and rested her head on his shoulder as his arm went around her shoulders.

“We are doomed!” She threw an arm around his waist.

“Yes, but we are doomed together,” he countered.

She tightened her hold on him.  "We are going to end up being that strange old couple that people laugh at aren’t we.“

"No. I won’t ever let anyone laugh at you.” He said the words with such sincerity that she looked up at him and, after a brief pause, kissed him.

Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2017 - Day Four

A/N : Sorry this is so late, had some Real Life Stuff come up (which meant going out to eat dinner because I’m not gonna eat Hamburger Helper at home when I’m dealing with drama, you know?).  Might not/probably won’t post this on or Ao3 until tomorrow because I need a nap and some chocolate. Unbeta’d, as per. 

OH, before I forget - this one is probably a hard PG 13/light M for a tiny mention of wanking.  Sorry.

Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2017 – Day Four (Non-Canon – First Sleepover/Sleep Together)

Who’s Been Sleeping in My Bed?

The first (and last) time Sherlock sleeps on Molly’s sofa was the night he jumps from the roof of Barts.  The horrid piece of furniture is far too short for him, and not nearly as comfortable as the one he’d been forced to abandon at Baker Street. Beggars can’t be choosers, unfortunately; and he was lucky that Molly was willing to put him up for the night at all. If anyone knew he was in her home after he was supposed to have plummeted to his death, she would be in serious danger.

She shuffles past him at half seven, clearly on her way to the kitchen and the coffee maker.  “You kept waking me up all night, I could hear you tossing and turning. Next time just take my bed.”

They both freeze.  They had never discussed the possibility of a ‘next time’.  He doesn’t know what to say; so he simply says, “All right.”

Molly nods and continues her barely-awake shuffle toward the coffee maker.

Keep reading

Both John and Mary looked at the ceiling as the shouting started again. Mrs. Hudson just sighed and shook her head. They were trying to enjoy a cuppa and talk like adults, but the man-child upstairs wasn’t cooperating.

“He’s been like that all morning. I thought Molly’s presence would mean he would be more… normal today, but not even twenty minutes after she arrived the shouting began. He’s supposed to be resting, that knife nicked him pretty bad.” the landlady explained to the confused couple.

“Are they arguing?” John asked. He saw the effect Molly Hooper had on Sherlock, the woman could silence him with a single look. This was highly unusual.

“That’s the thing, John. I haven’t heard her at all. Only Sherlock.”

Moments later a long tirade about upper body strength and quality of Velcro.

“What in the world is going on up there?” Mary asked, before deciding to just to upstairs and see for herself.

Mrs. Hudson stood up as well, and followed them to the hallway and up the stairs, “Right before you two arrived he was ranting about probability and speed. And velocity.”

John paused at the suspiciously closed door of the flat. He was pretty certain he heard more voices than just Sherlock, and said voices were speaking… Japanese?

Without knocking the doctor pushed the door open and entered, his wife on his heels, while Mrs. Hudson remained standing at the doorway. All three of them were quite surprised at the sight of Molly Hooper sitting on the couch, her face partially obscured by the pillow she was obviously using to silence her hysterical laughter. And Sherlock…

Sherlock was sitting on his armchair and watching the TV. He was frowning most of the time, and sighing. And when the visitors turned to see what in the world got him in this state they saw Molly’s laptop hooked up to the TV and an odd game show playing on the screen. Seconds later, when a contestant supposed to pole vault himself from a raised platform onto a small square island but failed and landed in muddy water, Sherlock started to mutter about grip and angle.

“What the hell?” John asked, now even more confused.

Mary on the other hand snickered and moved to sit next to Molly. Two women shared a look before focusing on the screen. John looked at them in confusion.

“I’m supposed to keep him occupied. Since shagging is out of the picture cause he’s injured I had to improvise.” Molly said honestly, making John blush.

Mary snorted at her husband’s reaction. She loved him, and she loved how easy it was to get him all flustered. She also loved Molly’s idea.

“God, I haven’t watched Takeshi’s castle in years. My favorite task were the Skipping stones.”

Molly nodded in agreement, “Honeycomb maze was also great. I remember one contestant actually climbed on top of the wall and completed the challenge that way.”

“So, you’re staying here?” John finally asked his wife after realizing she’s not planing on getting up. In fact she took off her shoes and got comfortable on the couch next to Molly. And Mrs. Hudson took a seat on the pathologist’s other side.

She nodded and pointed on, what is still considered, his armchair, “Grab a seat, John. They are about to slide down the hill in a rice bowl.”

Heimish is so important. Heimish is the whole damn show.

I know a few people have been talking about this poster, so I’m not going to claim that my ideas here are unprecedented. But from the second it appeared on setlock, I’ve been having some really strong reactions about it, so much so that I changed my tumblr name.

The rest of this post is going to discuss a prop from setlock. If you’re guarding yourself against setlock to that much of an extent, this is your warning. Everyone else, I’ll meet you on the flipside.

Keep reading

john and sherlock doing zapping, nothing interesting on telly, when they stumble with “the lion king”. The film has already started but they haven’t missed much, because it’s the scene where Mufasa is showing Simba their lands. John remembers having watched this film sometime but he barely holds any memory of it, meanwhile sherlock keeps sulking like a four year old and burying his head against the pillow he has in his arms, muffling sounds of disapproval and asking john to just turn the tv off and go to sleep. but john has none of it and keeps watching the film. he tells sherlock he might like it, but sherlock comes off with a retorical argument of how unoriginal and unproductive this film is. but he watches it anyway, because john has no intention to leave the couch and sherlock isn’t sleepy and although he won’t confess it out loud, he craves for john’s company right now.

they don’t speak for a while then and when Mufasa dies in the film, john’s eyes tear up a little bit. “If i was a kid i bet my kidneys i’d be crying like a baby at this. Sherlock?” John finds sherlock sobbing silently against the pillow, his swollen eyes focused on the tv screen, and when he notices john’s attention on him, he hides his face from embarrassment. “Go away John.”

“Sherlock, is okay to cry. It’s an emotional scene. It is meant to be like that.”

“I don’t cry over kids films.”

“It is not really a kids film, you know.”


“And it’s the feeling everybody has when someone we love leaves this world.”


“I felt like that when i thought i had lost you that time.”


“And i know it’s what you felt when you lost your dog.”

Sherlock’s tears increase. There’s a strangled noise coming out of his throat and then he’s clutching John’s sleeves with anxiety. John shushes him down and opens his arms to welcome him in the warm space they’re providing. “Shhh, it’s okay, Sherlock. Let it all out. It was about time you did that. Let it all out.”

John grabs the tv controller and turns it off. 221B is filled with broken sobs as John’s heart breaks a little bit.

In Memoriam

a “Performance in a Leading Role” ficlet

John got up from his laptop, feeling numb. 

Well, so far 2016′s doing a bang-up job of sucking really hard, he thought. He stood by his chair for a moment, reeling.

Sherlock was downstairs in the kitchen, or at least he had been when John had ventured out for coffee an hour ago. He’d been sitting at the kitchen table, typing madly on his laptop, two nicotine patches on his forearm. He was hip-deep in pre-production on his directorial debut, an intense three-character film about the dissolution of a marriage during the aftermath of a dinner party. Molly had written the script. John loved it, and so did Sherlock, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t rewriting to be done.

This news was going to throw him right off his game.

Maybe I shouldn’t tell him. He won’t hear for hours on his own. Let him get some work done while he’s on a roll.

No, he’ll find out that I knew and didn’t say anything and he’ll be furious and that’ll throw him off even more.

He sighed and went downstairs. He could hear the machine-gun clacking of Sherlock’s keyboard as he approached.

He stood in the doorway for a moment, just looking at him. The sunlight was angling in and highlighting the streaks of gray that were just starting to come in at his temples. His own hair was lightening by the day, it seemed, as his dishwater blonde was overtaken with silver. They were both getting older. He was now on the wrong side of forty, and Sherlock wasn’t far behind him.


“Hmm?” He didn’t look up, still typing. John didn’t say anything. After a moment, Sherlock glanced at him, then did a double-take. He stopped typing and sat back. “What is it, John? What’s happened?”

He walked forward and stood at Sherlock’s side, then put a hand on his shoulder. “Sweetheart, Alan died.”

Sherlock blinked. “Alan, who’s…” His eyes widened as he realized who John meant. “No.”

“I’m afraid so.”

He flapped a hand. “No, it’s one of those Internet hoaxes. Where’d you see that, on Facebook?”

“I wish it were. His family has released a statement.”

Sherlock went very still. He stared blankly at his laptop screen. “No,” he murmured.

John rubbed his shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I know you were friends.”

“He…died? When?”

“Today. He had cancer. Did you know he was sick?”

“I knew he’d been in hospital some time ago. I didn’t know he had cancer.” Sherlock leaned forward, his elbows on the table, and rubbed his hands over his face. “My God, Alan. I can’t believe it. He was…how old was he? He couldn’t have been 70 yet.”

“He was sixty-nine.”

Sherlock stood up and went to the window. John followed, keeping a bit of a distance. He’d been married to this man for four years, he knew that he’d reach out if he wanted comfort. “I should…send something. Call Rima. Maybe Emma will put something together for him, that’s her wheelhouse.” He raked a hand through his hair. “You know, we never worked together. It was always next year, next season, after this next project, we should talk about it, yes, let’s do that.” He took a deep breath. “Eventually, we all run out of ‘next season’s.” He turned and looked at John. “This must be upsetting for you, too. I know you were a fan.”

“It’s hard to imagine anyone not being. I never met him, but yeah. A big fan.” He went to Sherlock’s side and put his arm around his back. Sherlock pulled him close at once. John felt him tremble on his exhale and held him tighter. 

Sherlock bowed his face down to John’s hair. “Promise me you’ll never die,” he murmured.

John smiled. “I promise. If you’ll promise the same.” He felt Sherlock nod.

After a few moments, he drew away and went to the wine fridge. He pulled out a bottle of something and two glasses. “We’ll drink to a man whose talents we were privileged to witness,” he said, uncorking the wine.

John nodded. “First David Bowie, now this. I can’t believe it.”

 “It’s strange,” Sherlock said. “We know that we are mortal, and yet we are always surprised when that fact is brought home to us by a death.”

“The people we admire are supposed to be immortal,” John said. 

Sherlock handed him a full wineglass. His eyes were wet, but he was smiling a little. “If we continue to admire them, then they are.”

I against I

She didn’t want to waste time hearing his excuses, his lies. She had forgiven him every time, every single one…  But now she was too tired, too disappointed, to condone his faults. Maybe one day… But not yet.

Originally posted by storybookvisitor

Originally posted by mostlybenedict

He disappeared for months, fighting his nemesis, who had come back from the dead…

Originally posted by imoriarty-you

And when he returned to her...

Originally posted by notagarroter

Sherlock Holmes felt like his coscience, and his body, were split in two.

Originally posted by redmayn

This time, Molly had to face her biggest fear… And try to save Sherlock Holmes from himself.

Soon (soonish) on your screens (pc, tablets, smartphones, etc, etc…)

Are We There Yet? Chapter 4

New here? Haven’t read the first 3 chapters or the teaser? Here you go:

Teaser, 1, 2, 3

When you’re done, please proceed to: CHAPTER 5

Pairings: Kylo Ren x Reader (AU)

Warnings: Bad words, Rick Astley reference

A/N: HUGE HUGE HUGE thank you goes to the two beautiful souls that saved my from my anxiety ridden self and helped me so much with this chapter and the rest of the story. @tiffy-ray and @centaursandsatyrs (not sure why it’s not letting me do the @ thing for you but, ey) you guys are the real MVPs. So, here it is, Chapter 4, many days late from when I hoped to release it. Hope you all enjoy!


 Your morning consisted of Kylo bemoaning his bruised tailbone. A bruise he received from your awkward and obscenely loud morning greeting that resulted in Kylo flying backwards and ass first onto the green carpet. In the shower, you thought about why you had gravitated towards sleeping on the bed with Kylo and as much as you wanted to believe you were just tired and the chairs were uncomfortable, you knew it was only half of the truth. Ever since you were kids, you often gravitated towards each other, like an invisible force was always pulling the two of you together. You felt safer around each other, in fact, being with him had made you feel the most, well, and yourself you had felt in a long time. Neither of you addressed the change in sleeping arrangements; you simply packed up your bag and waited in the car as Kylo handled the room and pizza bill.

Leaning a little further into the seat of Kylo’s car, you felt yourself falling back asleep as you waited for Kylo. As you reached the hazy halfway mark between being awake and asleep, you were torn violently from it as a loud yell assaulted your ears,

“[Y/N]! Wake up! There’s a semi headed straight for us!”

Bolting upright, your eyes were met with an idle car. Slowly, you turned your head to see Kylo giving you a gloating grin, recording you on his phone.

“Get out. You’re walking home.” You huffed.

“This is my car.” Kylo said, still chuckling a little.

You waved your hand in front of his phone, grabbing it from him and turning it towards him.

“I don’t care. I’m taking this phone too, it’s nicer than mine.”

You couldn’t hold back the grin that was threatening to give away your feigned anger. That’s when Kylo pulled the trick that literally drove you crazy, it was your kryptonite and he knew it: the puppy dog eyes. Puckering his lower lip, his brown eyes going all big and dewy, he extended his hand to you,

“You wouldn’t leave me here.” Kylo said behind his stupid, adorable puppy mask of a face.

Sighing dramatically, you scrunched up your nose in defeat,

“You bitch. Okay fine, here, let’s go.”

Handing him his phone, he gave a little whoop, kissing your cheek as he got in the car, both of you immediately turning red. It was something he always did, for various reasons, like hellos and goodbyes, after you forgave him for pissing you off, after he forgave you for pissing him off, thank you’s, etc. It was more a muscle reflex than anything, but the ghost of his lips still lingered as you drove away.

It wasn’t long on the highway till your phone got service again, your phone binging to life with texts. Kylo glanced down at your phone. You sighed, unlocking your phone to be assaulted by group messages, texts from Rey, from Poe, and just way too many from Finn. They were your friends, best friends, and coworkers from Resistance Magazine.

You replied to their messages asking you about where you were, if you were okay, etcetera. Smiling at the Snapchats they had sent you, laughing a little harder than you should have at their faceswaps, sending back a picture of the highway stretching out in front of you with a bunch of sunglasses emojis.

“You’re popular.” Kylo quirked an eyebrow up at you.

You shrugged, “Not really, just very snap happy friends.”

Kylo paused for a moment, “Was one of those guys your boyfriend?”

You crossed your arms, “You should be watching the road, not snooping, Sherlock.” Then sighed, “But no.”

Another pause, “Girlfriend?”

“No, but why do you care? Jealous?”

Kylo was quiet, like he was thinking and re-thinking about what he was going to say. You felt a hopeful twinge in your stomach at the idea of him saying yes, but then immediately dismissed it. There was no way.

“I just don’t think anyone is good enough for you, is all.”

His comment caught you off-guard and you were about to say something when Kylo’s phone started to ring.

“Can you answer that?” Kylo said handing you his phone.

A Face-time call appeared on the screen, an image of a very angry looking red headed man appeared in front of you. He was yelling, before he suddenly became aware that you weren’t Kylo.

“Well hello to you too.” You said when he stopped.

“Is Ren there.” The man had been identified by the words Hux when you answered the call, so you assumed that was his name. “Actually that’s a stupid question, of course he is. You must be [Y/N], hi. Turn me to him.”

You looked over at Kylo who was shaking his head vigorously, begging you to just talk to him instead in a whispered voice.

“I can hear you, Ren!” Hux shouted.

You held back a snicker, facing the screen so Hux could see Kylo.

“Traitor.” Kylo mumbled to you before addressing Hux. “Hi, Hux. What can I do for you.”

Hux began spouting off again, something about numbers and figures and how Snoke was going to have his head when he got back.

“As you can see, I’m busy, I’ll deal with it when I get back.” Kylo said evenly. “And I said I wanted that information by Tuesday, so I suggest you get it.”

Kylo’s business voice scared you a little, he was like a totally different person, yet somehow “Business Kylo” kind of had a draw to him. A powerful aura radiated around him as he spoke and you found yourself far more attracted to it than you would have liked.

“Yes, well, I have to go now. Say hi to Millicent for me!” Kylo said, reaching across and hanging up on Hux.

“Millicent?” You questioned, handing the phone back to Kylo.

“His cat.” Kylo smirked.

Something about his smirk after his whole business man moment had you wishing he was smirking at you like that while your back was being slammed against a wall-what the fuck, no, bad [Y/N] this isn’t Fifty Shades of Grey.

Kylo caught you staring,


You shook your head, returning your eyes to the road. Up ahead there was a rest stop, you asked Kylo to pull over and you found yourself bolting to the bathroom. You wanted to run into the woods and scream, this was all getting to be too much for you, so you resigned yourself to the porcelain panic room. The old feelings you had for Kylo were all rushing back to you, like a massive wave-no a tsunami-knocking you over and drowning you. You didn’t even realize how loudly you were crying until a knock on the side of your stall startled you.

“Excuse me, miss? Are you okay?” A tiny lady’s voice called from the other stall.

You sniffled, nodding, before realizing she couldn’t see you,

“Y-yes, I’m fine.”

Faking a flush, you went in front of the sink, staring at yourself in the mirror. Wiping your face, you saw the little old lady waddle beside you, her dark skin was weathered and wrinkled with age. She looked up at you with eyes magnified by large glasses and her silver bracelets clinked against the sink as she washed her hands. Drying them on her blue sweater, she turned to you,

“Is it that boy your with that’s making you cry like that?”

Looking down at her, you shook your head. Then paused and nodded,

“Sort of.”

She reached up, patting your hands, both of them still a little soapy,

“If there is something I have learned in all my years, it’s that you see the same eyes in different people. I’ve seen his eyes and yours, it doesn’t take a genius to see there is something between you two, even at a glace. You have history, you’re in love.”

You shook your head,

“Used to be… maybe. He has more important things in his life now, we’re just burnt out flames I guess.”

She clicked her tongue,

“Don’t lie to the old lady, I know more than you think.” She sighed, before making her way out of the bathroom, but not before stopping and saying one more thing, “When you blow out a candle, miss, do you throw it away?”

You gave her a quizzical look.

“No…” You realized where she was going with this, “I keep it, because I can just light it again.”

The lady nodded, before disappearing outside.

You gave yourself one last look in the mirror. You and Kylo weren’t candles, though, and some things, no matter how badly you want them, just don’t happen. You weren’t a candle, you weren’t Anastasia Steel, and Kylo wasn’t a Disney prince sent to sweep you off your glass slipper clad feet. You two were just an ending to a John Green novel: pretentiously sad and it made you cry more than you wanted or expected.

Leaving the bathroom you made your way to where Kylo was leaning against his car.

“Took you long enough.” Kylo laughed. “Dropping the mother load?”

You punched him in the arm, as you got closer, laughing,

“A lady doesn’t shit and tell.”

The next few hours consisted of uncomfortably bad karaoke and shitty gas station coffee. It was all fun and games until you insisted Kylo listen to the song you were about to play. You hyped it up, stating it was one of the best songs you had ever heard and Kylo turned up the radio, interested in what it could be. The classic 80s instrumental music came on, you were stifling laughter already, but it seemed Kylo hadn’t caught on yet.

We’re no strangers to love

You know the rules and so do I

The expression on Kylo’s face hadn’t changed yet, still trying to recognize the song.

… I just wanna tell you how I’m feeling

Gotta make you understand

Then… Kylo’s expression grew dark.

Never gonna give you up

Never gonna let you down

You couldn’t hold it in anymore, you were crying from laughter. Kylo looked pissed, but you could see he was trying not to smile.

“[Y/N]… why… why would you do this.” Kylo said mournfully, turning the radio down.

“Because…” You reached across to grab Kylo’s hand, “I’m never gonna give you up. Never gonna let you down. I’m never gonna run around and desert you.”

Needless to say, you lost the AUX cord privileges for the rest of the day.

But it was worth it.

So worth it.

Through The Glass

Can you fall in love with someone you’ve only met once?

The first time Mycroft saw Molly, he thought nothing of her. Mousy and nondescript, she was nothing unique, nothing vibrant. She was a part of Sherlock’s puzzle, that was all. She wasn’t anything more. So when he had Anthea escort her to the warehouse after work, he wasn’t expecting anything. Maybe she would be like the others, say yes, take the money. Maybe she wouldn’t. He didn’t particularly care.

He stood there, looked imposing, and watched as she tremulously stepped closer. She was uncertain, yes, intimidated, but not unduly afraid. “Why did you let Sherlock Holmes into your laboratory?” he asked, leaning on his umbrella and pretending that the question was of no great importance.

Keep reading

What if, when John kisses Sherlock for the first time, we don’t see the kiss for long but instead there are shots of John’s hair, his hands, an extreme close up of Sherlock’s face inhaling and words pop up on the screen, but this time it’s not deductions it’s thoughts like grounded, friend, trust, home.

Fabric Magazine interview with Amanda Abbington


I’ve had transformative conversations before, sure. But I think I may’ve just come out of an hour with Amanda Abbington a better person.

“Just be nice. Be nice, be nice. That’s what I say to everybody. That’s my mantra – just be nice. Pay it forward, send it out into the ether, be decent. It’s such a simple thing.”

She’s not holier-than-thou, all warm and wide-eyed and wringing her hands; Amanda is just very convincing about being nice. She’s even zen about cyberbullies (she’s faced her fair share on her ascension): “You meet it with, ‘Ok, that’s alright, you’re entitled to your opinion.’”

“It counts for a lot. Be nice and civil and respectful. I think we’ve lost that a bit. But I think, ‘I’m gonna set the benchmark a little higher, and at least say thank you.’”

Could I by any chance be talking to a parent? Someone in the midst of setting an example, say? “We do have a high moral code in our house – just about being considerate. I try to be a good parent, but who knows…”

Joe and Grace – Amanda’s children with partner Martin Freeman – aren’t here to vouch for Mum’s parenting skills, but the verdict’s back on one thing: ask any opinion of her, and you’re likely to get the same reply. “I love her!” I heard again and again. “I bet she’s really nice.”

Which is weird, when you think about it, because the last time most people would have seen Amanda Abbington, she was either at the powerful end of a pistol as the newly-wedded Mrs Mary Watson in Sherlock; copping off with a handsome young Belgian in Mr Selfridge; or as educational piety incarnate, Sali Rainer, in the Royal Court’s God Bless the Child. None of them nasty, but none straightforwardly ‘nice’.

But, of course, before a parent, Amanda was first an actress – one fast becoming a familiar face of British television. Until the offers dried up. Just as Freeman’s career was taking off (there was no resentment, though: “I can’t exactly play Tim from The Office”), the phone stopped ringing. “Stopped dead overnight. But I kept going.”

And things improved – but not, perhaps, her confidence. “I called it The Curse of Amanda Abbington,” she says. “Everything I ever did finished after one series. But it’s picking up a bit now – we’ve done three series of Mr Selfridge, and it’s my second run of Sherlock. So I think I’ve finally broken the curse.”

Indeed, if there ever was a Curse of Amanda Abbington, it seems to have lifted. This month sees her return to our screens in slick period drama Mr Selfridge as the ever-lovelorn head of accessories, Miss Mardle – who, now “an independent woman of means” with a love avowal under her neatly-belted belt, finally seems to be having a better time of it.

Amanda-Abbington-2Equally, last year, Amanda defied critics to portray the perfect third wheel as Mary Morstan-turned-Watson in Sherlock. As Watson’s real-life partner and a potential obstruction to the adored Sherlock-Watson dynamic, Amanda faced much online opposition. When offered the part, in fact, she thought she’d been called on to advise on a good match for Martin (Emilia Fox or Maxine Peake, FYI). But there’s no doubt she’s proven her worth. With filming begun this month, Amanda goes into Sherlock series four as the strong, surprising Mary (for which she just received the Best Supporting Actress dagger at the Crime Thriller Awards) – transformed from Conan Doyle’s barely there bit part to an integral element of the show’s dynamic.

“It’s absolutely about John and Sherlock. It should be; it’s about their adventures. But I liked that there was this third wheel, and she was female and strong and could hold her own – she wasn’t there just to accommodate them. But, then, I think all the women in Sherlock are like that.”

Mr Selfridge’s Miss Mardle, too: “Beneath the wrong-footed exterior, she is determined, ambitious. And she shows that you can be ambitious and have a heart. She certainly holds her own. Mary and Miss Mardle are both strong women, and I don’t think they facilitate men – they’re there as equals.”

Is this something that’s evolved since her career began? “Yes, but I still think there’s a long way to go. If you play strong women, they have to be slight lunatics. You can’t have a funny, strong character without an element of strangeness.”

“But in this play [God Bless the Child, a smart educational satire directed by the Royal Court’s artistic director Vicky Featherstone], there are four women who don’t talk about men. Just four women on stage, none mad. It’s so healthy.”

The play marked Amanda’s first theatrical turn in ten years – and to say she was apprehensive is like saying 221B Baker Street is just an address. “I was terrified. I was pre-kids the last time I did it. You’re more fearless when you haven’t had children – I felt more fearless. I think your emotions come to the surface more. It makes everything so accessible.”

So which is scarier, parenthood or acting? “They’re both terrifying, but I’m more in control of acting. With parenting, you’re basically winging it – hoping you don’t cause too much permanent damage.”

And how do the kids feel about Mum and Dad’s line of work? “They love it – they find it fascinating. They’ve been on a film set or at a theatre since day dot, so they think parents who go to an office are really weird.”

“They love Mary. Grace wants to be Mary when she grows up. I said, ‘No, you can’t really be an assassin…’ And they love Bilbo [Freeman’s role in The Hobbit], just love him being Bilbo.”

And they can expect to enjoy a lot more Mum on screen soon: Mr Selfridge will take us through to autumn, then Sherlock kicks off with a special next Christmas, while she comes straight here from a read-through for a BBC sitcom, which, if it comes off, will be “so much fun”.

“I love doing comedy, I don’t know if I’m particularly good at it, but I love it. And theatre. And after ten years off, I’ve got the bug again. I think what Vicky’s doing [at the Royal Court] is fantastic: bucking trends, doing stuff that’s challenging. I love people that take risks, that aren’t afraid of saying something controversial – something thought-provoking.”

A sentiment clear in her wish list: “I’d love to work with Abi Morgan, she’s amazing; Simon Stephens I love; Shane Meadows; Jack Thorne – they’re such brilliant writers. They have guts. And I’d love to do a horror film, like The Babadook. That’s on my wish list. Lady Macbeth is on my list too.”

Which, with a plethora of parts both actual and potential, plus Martin’s busy career, means getting time together can be tricky. “Family is much more important to us, but we also both want to work. It’s finding that balance. It’s hard work, making time for each other. But when you do it’s wonderful.”

Of course, filming Sherlock helps, but a studio isn’t quite the same. Quality time is, instead, spent at home in Hertfordshire or in town: “I love London – it’s where I grew up. Coming in on the train, going to the theatre, seeing the lights, was such a big deal. I love to look at it with fresh eyes. What we have here is amazing: parks, history, that skyline – it’s gorgeous. If I don’t see it too often, I miss it, I miss all it does.”

It’s this that makes Amanda’s ‘do unto others’ axiom so irresistible; adult and parent she may be, but she can be as sincerely awed as a child. And, sometimes, just the right side of childish. She seems as loved up as a teenager (“Martin’s my favourite actor,” she borderline gushes. “I’m desperately proud of him.”); argues with prepubescent trolls on Twitter; loves sneezing panda YouTube videos (this she acts out for me); and is just as amazed at London as she was at eight.

“A teacher once gave me the best piece of advice: ‘In London, always look up.’ Because you’ll see so much beauty. It’s quite a good metaphor for life, actually – always look up!”

With this final charge, Amanda heads backstage, and I buoyantly out onto the street – head tilted dutifully skywards – and into a postbox. With my newfound niceness, naturally I’m profusely apologetic, but I do wonder: is this, perhaps, the new Curse of Amanda Abbington?

Mr Selfridge airs on ITV this month



So this is just something that came to me as I was putting together some gifs for another meta I’m working on that oddly enough sort of ties into the theme of lying and deception in Sherlock. This is not that meta, but I thought I would write about this anyway because… what else is there to do on a lazy Sunday afternoon when it’s -30˚C out? This was just supposed to be a silly gifset, but as y'all know, I can NEVER stop at JUST THE GIFS.

I like to ramble.

So, Sherlock claims, on-screen in canon, “I’m a high functioning sociopath” twice. If we knew nothing else about the show and are only judging based on how out-of-context the gifs are, one might conclude that Sherlock tells the truth. 

However, after 3 seasons, nine episodes, and countless evidence on screen to the contrary, we KNOW that’s just simply not true. This is the deception that Sherlock has created in his own mind to protect himself and his feelings.

We know this series loves its parallels, so I found this one: John claims, on-screen in canon, “I’m not gay” twice.

It could be argued that it’s probably true, again out of context, but evidence suggests it’s probably not. This is John’s deception he tells himself to fit in, to feel normal, to protect himself and his feelings.

When we study the characters and their arcs, we need to look at this series as a whole. I’m a firm believer that TPTB love paralleling and referencing previous episodes time and time again, and especially with the advent of TSo3, it becomes clear that a lot of the major clues and hints to anything come in groups of three; one more deduction than we were expecting; the universe is rarely so lazy.

I know that these gifs are far from compelling evidence of TJLC, but I find that they tie into the Episodic Bible of TJLC rather nicely: Sherlock discovers he’s in love – something a sociopath is apparently not capable of (I will not make assumptions since my knowledge on the psychology of it all is based on Wikipedia…) – in the episode prior to his second not-so-true declaration; John starts shamelessly flirting with Sherlock (albeit drunkenly) – something a strictly straight man probably would not do – and then subconsciously reveals his possible bisexuality to Sherlock in the episode following his “not gay” proclamations.

In the episodes Sherlock claims he’s a sociopath, John: a) is able to make Sherlock laugh, smile genuinely, and become friends with him, and b) becomes the sole reason for Sherlock’s very being – his pressure point – which causes Sherlock to almost confess the depth of his care for him. 

The same episodes John claims he’s not gay, Sherlock: a) is able to bring up classic signs of jealousy in John and b) claims “Sometimes a deception is so audacious, so outrageous that you can’t see it even when it’s staring you in the face”, which is pretty much the motto John lives by until Sherlock’s epiphany at the wedding. 

I think it’s safe to say that somehow there will be a third time both of these phrases are either mentioned or referenced on screen. Entering headcanon territory here, but I’d like to think it’s going to be the two of them speaking each other’s lines:

SHERLOCK: Thought you weren’t gay.
JOHN: Thought you were a high-functioning sociopath.

But that’s just me being a silly dreamer :)

I don’t doubt for a second that S4 will be our huge climax season (I’ve always said I think of the series as a 5-act Shakespearean play, and Act 4, Scenes 2 and 3 are usually the big climax scenes, if I recall my high-school English literature classes correctly), and something’s gotta give. If we hear these lines uttered again, I sure as hell believe we’re going to be this_close to our Johnlock Moment™.


More from inevitably-johnlocked:  MY META || BEST OF MY BLOG

Familiar - Part Two

Summary: you knew Bucky in the 40s, and you loved him then.  You still love him when an experiment from Howard sends you 70 years into the future. But does he love you too, or are you just a familiar face.

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4 Part 5  Part 6


“Major-General?” Steve shakily replied

“Just General now” You explained quickly, your voice becoming higher with anxiety.

“Tony, if this is some kind of sick joke, I’m not laughing,”  You turned to the man standing beside you.  He simply shook his head in response, looking almost scared of you.

“Guys, we should give these three some time to talk,” the man with the bow and arrow said before he and everyone else left the room.

You started to pace, something you always did when you were anxious, avoiding eye contact with the two soldiers who were just staring at you.

“This can’t be right. I must be dreaming. Yeah, I’m dreaming. This can’t really be happening.” You thought out loud, pace quickening with each word.  You pinched your arm. One, two three times.

“I’m not waking up. Fuck this is real.  How is this real? You two are dead!” You screamed at them.  “I went to both of your funerals” You voice was much quieter now and filled with pain. “I heard the recording” you looked at Steve, then to Bucky, “and I read the file.  I - You’re both dead. How?” A deafening silence filled the space between you.

“Rogers, How did you survive?” You demanded.  

“After the ship hit the ice, I picked up the picture of Peggy, looked at it one last time, then lay down on the floor and closed my eyes.  I woke up what they told me was 70 years later.” He was quiet as well. You knew him enough to know that by the look on his face he don’t enjoy talking about this.

“What about the tesseract?” Panic evident in your voice.

“It was destroyed.  I’ll tell you about that later”  It was clear you wanted to know how anyone could have destroyed the tesseract, but you dropped it for now.

“And you Barnes?”   You looked up to him, as he had gotten taller since you last saw him.  He started to divulge what had happened to him, only in small detail, though.  You thought Steve was sad but it was nothing compared to the pain on Bucky’s face when he said:

“They made me kill people, innocent people”

However, his smile started to show when he said

“Then Steve found me, I still can’t remember a lot, but it’s getting better.”

That’s also when your smile died.  He didn’t remember everything.  Did he remember you two being together, were you just a familiar face to him. You didn’t know and didn’t want to ask in case he didn’t. You didn’t want him to feel guilty for not remembering something that meant so much to you.

“What about you? How did you end up in the 21st century?” Bucky quickly changed the subject.

“During the war, Howard started delving into time travel. Wanted to see what technology there was that could help win the war and save the lives of the soldiers before the loss became too great.  Only a few people knew about this, Peggy and I included.  He started transporting organic matter, like plants, then mice.  When those tests showed up a success, he sent a monkey a year forward, and it worked. Exactly a year after, the monkey showed up and hadn’t aged at all.  This was about midway through 47.  He needed someone smart that he could trust, and someone with no immediate family relations.  Peggy volunteered but I was chosen. She had to stay as she is… was the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. I was given a version of the Super Soldier serum, they never managed to fully replicate it, that way I could make it here without ageing or dying. I was told to reconfigure the watch before collecting any information, however, Howard failed to mention how difficult a task that would be so I came here looking for him and found Tony instead.”

Another long silence followed, eventually broken by Bucky

“Are you still going to go back?” He asked seeming worried.

“I don’t know,” you replied honestly. You didn’t know what to do now. You didn’t even know if the watch that would send you back could be fixed.

“Where are you staying until, you know?” Steve asked noticing how dissociate you had become while thinking.

“Tony said I could stay here” All three of you smiled at that, Bucky more brightly than he had in years, you just thought it was regular Bucky, though.

“I’ve missed you both, so much,” you smile then pull them both in for a hug.  Of course, you were still stunned and weren’t completely convinced you weren’t dreaming but you were willing to just let yourself enjoy being with them for as long as you possibly could.

After what felt like a minute, but was likely closer to ten, of the three of you holding each other, there was a knock at the door.

“Hey guys, can we come in?” It was the man with the bow and arrow who asked.  You pulled away from your boys before inviting them all in.  Last one to enter was a character you hadn’t noticed before, with red skin and a yellow jewel embedded on his forehead.  Your eyes widened at him to which he simply smiled.

“I am Vision” he spoke softly the shook your hand.

“Hi, I’m (y/n)” You stuttered.

“There’s no need to be alarmed” He assured you

“Honestly, after finding out these two are alive I doubt anything could shock me at this point,” you nervously laughed.

You introduced yourself to everyone and vice versa.  You learned that the man with the bow and arrow was called Clint, the man with the wings was named Sam and was one of the closest people to Steve and Bucky.  You also met the only two girls, Natasha and Wanda.  Everyone had read your file, which you were grateful for as you didn’t want to explain everything again.  You decided that if Steve and Bucky trust them, then you could too.  You also found out that they called themselves the Avengers, along with everything from Norse Gods being real, to robots trying to kill everyone.  So much information was thrown at you that night.  You quickly became tired and started furiously yawning.

“Do you want to go to bed (Y/N), you must be tired?” Wanda asked.  You shook your head, still yawning.

“Can’t. Howard said I need to stay awake for at least 24 hours once I arrive. The time travel messes up your cells and I need to give them time to revert to normal again. If I go to sleep they could start to shut down,”  you explained casually

“Oh,” you heard from multiple people.

“Yeah, you should have seen the tests. We had to give shots of adrenaline and caffeine to the monkey… That was a long week”  You said remembering the hours spent tidying the lab after.

“You must be hungry then, do you want anything?” Tony asked you.

“Yes please, just a sandwich,” you replied.  Bucky casually got up from his seat on the couch next to you and walked to what you could only assume was the kitchen.  Everyone’s eyes followed him.

“Chicken and lettuce yeah?” he asked so nonchalantly that it felt like it was just you and him again.

“Yes,” you replied smiling at him and how he remembered the only type of sandwich you would eat if given the choice.  

He seemed to catch himself, and you could see the complete look of befuddlement on his face. He didn’t know how he remembered. He didn’t know that he remembered until now.  Why did you have such an impact on him? He couldn’t answer. He knew of course but didn’t want to admit it.  He quickly made you and himself a chicken and lettuce sandwich then brought it to you.  He took his seat next to you, more rigid than he was before.  You both stayed in silence, eating, while the rest of the Avengers talked.  You enjoyed listening to how people talked now, it was almost amusing to you.  

“We should watch a movie,” Natasha suggested.

“It’s a bit late, won’t the theatre be closed?” You asked, clearly confused.  Some of them just laughed slightly.

“FRIDAY put on the first episode of Sherlock,” Steve said, a knowing glance creeping onto his face.  Your eyes immediately lit up.

“They made a TV show from Sherlock?”  The excitement evident in your voice.  You had read all the books multiple times during the war when there was nothing to do but wait.

Steve smiled and nodded at you.  Another screen descended from the ceiling and you could see the word “Sherlock” appear over a backdrop of London.  You were wide awake now, nothing was going to stop you watching every episode.

You didn’t notice, however, the way that Bucky was smiling at you.  He had missed the way your entire face glowed when you were excited about something.  He didn’t watch the tv, only you and your reactions.  How could he have gone so long without seeing your smile? He wanted nothing more than to wrap you in his arms and hold you. But all he could do was admire you for as long as you stayed with them. For as long as you stayed with him.  He knew you might have to go back to the 40s if Tony fixed the watch. But he couldn’t bear to lose you again. So he didn’t press anything. He couldn’t handle losing you when you were currently just being friends, so it would kill him to lose you as his girlfriend.

If anyone wants (un)tagged then message me and I’ll add you to the list

@fangirling-all-the-way-tbh  @pensandprettythings

My mom always didn’t understand why I loved Benedict Cumberbatch when I was watching Sherlock and she didn’t watch it because he was talking too fast in English. (And let’s be honest people, he doesn’t have the ‘handsome face’)

Then it was her first time to actually see he’s acting properly on screen and at the end of the Doctor Strange movie she was like:

“I don’t know what’s with him, but he has the ability to act like he’s hot and I’m falling for it. Strange”

anonymous asked:


Redlights and blue, flashing and blinding. There are people everywhere. Ambulance crew and uniformed bobbies, the homicide squad suited and bleak. John is on the stretcher staring at the sky and wishing everyone would just go away.

A face hovers into view. Lestrade.

“Alright?” he asks, his voice casual but a touch of concern visible in the tightness at the corners of his eyes, the strain of his mouth.

“Yeah, course. Didn’t hit anything important,” John says. “Where’s Sherlock?”

“Fine. They’re just checking him for concussion.”

John grunts. It hurts. God it hurts, but all he sees is Sherlock, going limp and falling, over and over and over again in his head. He tries to sit up and a hand pushes him back down. Again.

“Please stay still, Doctor Watson,” the paramedic says, the edges of impatience clear in her voice.

He scowls and subsides, but he turns his head, trying to pick out Sherlock’s form in the mass of unimportant people.

So naturally Sherlock appears from the other side, and John startles at the hands that grip him, crying out at the jolt to the bullet wound in his side.

“Jesus, Sherlock,” John snaps.

Sherlock says nothing. Two large hands grab John’s face and John stares up at Sherlock, hovering inches above him, frantic and wide-eyed as he peers down at John.


“You idiot!” Sherlock hisses. “How could you not have seen him there?”

I’m the idiot?” John snarls. “Who’s the one who insisted that it was all clear. That Murphy would never be so stupid as to hole up here.”

Sherlock scowls and opens his mouth to argue when there’s a sudden flash of light and the sound of an artificial shutter and they both look over to see Lestrade with his phone pointed at them, taking a picture.

He shrugs at them. “You’re just so precious, the two of you,” he says with a smirk, and puts the phone in his pocket and walks away.


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