except the mycroft one looks off

The Final Problem is bad and boring and here is why

I had to rewatch TFP yesterday (IN GERMAN!) with a bunch of friends. I hadn’t watched it after it aired in January, and it had developed into some kind of uber-evil episode for me. Because it ruined the whole show for me. Because it didn’t make any sense. I remembered it as tense and brutal. But, you know what - it isn’t. It’s just really, really boring and very badly done.


Do yourself a favour and watch the Why Sherlock is Garbage video. Watch the whole of it, especially the first hour. Because there he explains why Mofftiss are really bad writers for television. One point in their favour I see over and over again is that Mofftiss couldn’t suddenly have forgotten how to write good telly, therefore Sherlock, especially S4, and especially TFP, must have a deeper meaning, are fake, a social experiment, whatever. Just: NO! This argument crashes - because they are really bad writers. They are very good at coming over as clever for a while - but in the end it’s revealed that there is nothing behind all the suspense they are building, that all their arcs lead nowhere, that nothing means anything or has any consequences. The guy explains this by analysing DW and Jekyll - and you find all of this in Sherlock as well. Like, they constantly up the ante - but with no plan or goal in mind, just for the sake of it. Or that the most important moments of the stories happen off screen. Or that they don’t follow the basic rule of show, don’t tell. Or that they never explore their characters’ motivations. We never learn why people do anything on this show. I will talk about this later. Those are basic writing skills! And they just throw them overboard. Which is not a very good idea.

Me, spewing an angry rant, below the cut. 

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The Wife of the Brother;Mycroft X Reader, Sherlock X Reader

“I, Sherlock Holmes, take you, Y/F/N Y/L/N, for my lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part,” He said to you, as you started bawling at the meaning of those words before realizing the priest was waiting on you to say your portion.

"I, Y/F/N Y/L/N, take you, Sherlock Holmes, for my lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part.”

The priest smiled at the vow you and Sherlock just made before official pronouncing you husband and wife. “You may now kiss the bride,” he said.

Sherlock leaned in to kiss you, his wife, feeling completely blessed that you would choose to spend the rest of your life with him. The pair of you then turned to face everyone watching.

You saw your and Sherlock’s parents both in tears, John, Mary, and their child, Lestrade, Molly, Mrs. Hudson, and a few of your friends from college. You and Sherlock stepped down from the stage and walked back down the aisle.

While you were making your way to the door you noticed Mycroft standing in the back, faking a smile. You decided to ignore this and focus on the happy memory you just made.

After taking what seemed like a billion wedding photos, you and Sherlock finally arrived at the reception hall. “I would now like to present Mr. and Mrs. Holmes,” the lead singer announced. Everyone cheered and clapped as your and Sherlock entered, the party seemed to be off to a great start. All of the guests were dancing, laughing, and eating. Except for one guest in particular.

You told Sherlock you would be back in a moment before walking over to talk to Mycroft, who was standing in a corner. “Mycroft aren’t you enjoying the party?” you asked.

“Parties aren’t really my area of expertise,” the older Holmes said checking his watch.

“It’s Sherlock and I’s wedding can you at least look like you enjoy yourself?” you begged.

Mycroft sighed before continuing. “My dear Y/N, I think we both know why your wedding is painful for me to watch. Let alone the wedding between you and my brother. While I watched you up there earlier, I couldn’t help but think how it would be if you were saying those words to me.” Mycroft turned to walk away before turning to you and saying, “Enjoy married life, Y/N,” then left the reception hall.

“What was all that about?” Sherlock asked, coming up behind you and snaking his arm around your waist.

“Oh nothing. Just Mycroft being Mycroft. You know parties aren’t really his thing,” you told Sherlock before giving him a quick peck on his lips. “Now, why don’t we enjoy our wedding,” you said before pulling Sherlock to the dance floor.