i felt that sherlock needed one of these

John’s hands. One on Sherlock’s nek and the other on Sherlock’s arm. Doesn’t it remind u something? It’s exactly the same way Sherlock hugged John in TLD. Coincidence? Nope. In this show coincidences don’t exist. It means, if you think about it, that Sherlock not only remember how John hugged him, but also that Sherlock thinks that it is the way John want to be hugged, I think. It is the way John makes feel someone loved and safe and it is probably the way Sherlock felt and so Sherlock did the same when John needed, he hugged him with one hand on John’s nek and the other on John’s arm. Bacause in that moment John needed love and to feel safe.

I…I don’t know if it makes sense but this hug, John’s hug, hit me and reminded me of Sherlock’s hug.
I don’t know what to think now, I need a blanket.
Also, I feel really stupid cause probably someone just noticed it ages ago soooooooo now it’s time for me to go. And hide. Bye.

The Music Tells The True Story.

I’m listening to The Final Problem soundtrack again, because, even though we all know how the episode…resulted…the music is gorgeous and actually tells the TRUE story. THIS is why I need to make this post. 

I Had No One is Eurus explaining why she did what she did, why she became what she became.
And what do we hear at the very beginning of the song?

John’s theme. 

John’s heartbroken, lonely, lost chords are playing over a slow violin melody, in a scene where a character who isn’t related to John’s character in any way is explaining why she felt alone and NEEDS Sherlock to be complete.

If we’re going with the most probable theory that The Final Problem is John’s bleeding-out hallucination after being shot, he villainizes his love for Sherlock because as we know…John hates himself. He thinks he’s a terrible person for falling in love with the person that saved his life, so in his literal dying moments he creates a horror-movie-world in which Sherlock ignores him and he has to stand there and take the abuse, because that’s what he thinks he deserves. 

But he can’t help but admit to himself that it’s true. He’s fallen in love. And so John’s chords at the beginning of the song are literally musically heartbroken.

The music tells the true story.

Experiment - Request

Requested by @newts-fan-case:  So could you do a Sherlock x Reader were she is riding his face? (Lol I’m a sinner but I ain’t sorry) like for an experiment ‘cause Sherlock thinks a person can’t get aroused just by giving pleasure to someone else, but he is wrong and yeah ;) 
& Anon:  Hi! Can I request a smut one shot with Sherlock where he wants to try have the reader sit on his face and eat her out and she’s shy & a bit self conscious with her body and he makes sure he makes her see Stars (with a little fkuff)? Thank you! 💞

Summary: ^^ That.

Pairing: Sherlock x reader.

Word count: 2,055

Warnings: Smut - face riding - and self-consciousness (just a little bit).

A/N: God bless the sinners.


“It just can’t be… It’s impossible…” Sherlock mumbled as he walked upstairs.

“What’s impossible?” (Y/N) inquired without looking up.

“Sherlock thinks a person can’t get aroused by giving pleasure to another.” Watson explained tiredly.

“Why would anyone get aroused if they’re not receiving the proper stimulation?” The consultant detective exclaimed.

“Because…” Watson sighed heavily, “I won’t explain it to you again. You have to live it to get it.”

Sherlock groaned and stormed to his room. John shared an annoyed glance with (Y/N) and left.

She was impressed that none of them asked why she was there, but then again, both knew she was very concerned about their current case, so maybe it wasn’t that weird. Therefore, she kept doing her research – in Sherlock’s computer – until he went out of his room.

“What are you doing here?” He inquired.

“Case.” She replied nonchalantly.

“Good.” He gulped and stood there awkwardly.

“Do you want me to leave?” She asked, still not looking up at him.

“No.” He said, “Actually I…”


“I want to do an experiment and I think you’ll be a great help.” He spoke quickly. If she didn’t know better, she would’ve sworn he was nervous.

“Sure, what is it? Head exploding? Eye-ball tea tasting?”

“No, none of that.” He interrupted. (Y/N) was ignoring him – she was too focused on the computer’s screen – which made it a lot harder for him to ask what he needed to ask.

“Then what is it?” She asked once more.

“It’s… Complicated.” She sighed heavily and looked at him for a second.

“Everything with you is complicated; I think I got used to it already.” And with that she turned to the computer again.

Sherlock took a deep breath before blurting out his request. “I need you to ride my face.”

Keep reading

You were wrong | Sherlock x reader.

“I had a plan, you know? Get to Europe, make a european fall in love with me, get married, get a visa. Is that a bad plan?”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. Americans, he thought. 

You were laying on the flat’s floor, kind of drunk. Really drunk.

It had been a bad day, a bad week, a bad month. A bad everything.

You felt so lonely, but you’d never show that. Sherlock would only see how cheerful and gleeful you were. You knew he needed that in his life, even if he didn’t know it. But lately, you were the one that needed that. Of course, Sherlock didn’t notice, because he couldn’t read you and because he was, after all, Sherlock.

He was sitting in his chair with his eyes closed trying to get into his mind palace, but you were too distracting, all drunk and talking about your life. Normally, he would tell you to shut up. But not tonight, no. 

Tonight, he could see it in your eyes. You were going to start crying any minute.

You kept quiet for a second and the alcohol was working on making you fall sleep even when you were resisting it. Suddenly, you felt someone laid on the floor next to you. You opened your eyes to see Sherlock looking at the ceiling.

“So how is your plan going?” he asked. You looked at him confused. “Your plan on getting your visa” he reminded you.

“Oh, that” you whispered “I haven’t made any european fall in love with me yet”

You were so wrong in that. Sherlock thought and smiled at you.

Originally posted by detective-from-221b

Gif not mine.


So it’s eastern week so I’ll have little time to write a little more. I havent been active lately, so sorry! Thank you for the support to my little stories.

A Different Addiction. Sherlock Holmes.

Request:  I was wondering if you could do a Sherlock Smut where when there’s no cases, Sherlock leaves the house for the night after getting a text. John thinks he’s going to do drugs but he’s actually meeting a woman. An old assistant of his that now works for Interpol, he’s very close to her. They meet up once in awhile at a nice hotel whenever they are free from work. He’s very dominate with her, makes her beg and pled for more. Ending with cuddling and Sherlock bring her to the flat to meet John. ❤️❤️

Triggers: Smut. Dom-Sub.

Word Count: 2027

Enjoy ;D

Sherlock sighed heavily as he laid on the couch. “Bored.”

“Don’t get the gun,” John muttered. He looked up when he heard the sound of a phone typing. “Who are you texting?”

“No one.” Sherlock said before putting his phone down. Less than a minute later, his phone buzzed. Sherlock looked to the phone and John caught a glimpse of a smile before he was typing again.

“Well ‘no one’ seems to be perking you right up.” John said, raising an eyebrow. Sherlock just hummed. “Who is it?”

“No one,” Sherlock said, suddenly getting up. He walked to his room and closed the door. When he came out, he was dressed and grabbing his coat. “I’m going out for the night.”

Keep reading

darjeelinglove  asked:

Hello wonderful human being. I need Johnlock fluff. But real HARDCORE fluff with butterfly kisses and caring about each other. Do you have any fics with this many fluff?

Hi Lovely!!

I’m actually in the process of doing a Johnlock Mega Fluff Fic Rec List; it’s the third most recced list after Angst and sick!fics, LOL. Currently, I actually do have some Fluff Fic Lists already posted:

So you can start with those! 

Actually, you know what? Perhaps I can give you a preview of some of the fics on that list, plus additions I’ve had since to the Tooth Rotting Fluff section, since it’s gonna be too big anyway to post all the links anyway. Note that I’m no where near done, but here’s hoping you find something you like! Let’s pick a super soft section…


Sherlock Doesn’t Like Summer Nights by sherrinholmes (T, 337 w. || Fluff) – “Isn’t it considered normal and wise to remove layers when one finds one’s self overheating?” Sherlock threw the shirt into some dark corner of the room and began working on the drawstring of his pyjama trousers.

Too Much by belovedmuerto (T, 567 w. || Empath John) – Sometimes, it’s too much for John.

This Kiss by suitesamba (T, 731 w. || Humour, Drunkenness, Angst, Stag Night) – Stag Night - back at 221B - in a world where Mrs. Hudson doesn’t interrupt the guessing game with the client. Part 1 of The “This” Series

Cuddling by GraciousK (Ao3, G, 1107 w. || Angst/Cuddling/Hypothermia) - John finds Sherlock and he’s delirious. John saves Sherlock, semi-happy ending.

In Dreams by Youarethelightoftheworld (T, 1,339 w. || Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, Accidental Cuddles, Domestic Fluff) – Every once and a while, the dark makes it easier to see.

Battle of Bakerloo by bendingsignpost (G, 1,494 w. || Cuddles, Clingy Sherlock, Fluff, Snuggles) – The change had occurred, John had accepted it, and when Sherlock had asked, “You don’t mind, do you?”, John had answered, “No, of course not.” In hindsight, an obvious mistake.

Apologies by Sherlock Holmes by ad0rably_0rdinary (G, 1,549 w. || Fluff, Worried Sherlock, Cuddles) – Sherlock sends John off with harsh words, and Sally points out that if he keeps it up, John could leave him. Worried Sherlock ensues, and he blunders his way into a cuddly apology.

Tangential by Bitenomnom (NR, 2,047 w. || Fluff, Love, Nightmares, Cuddling, Ace!Sherlock) – …In which John stitches up Sherlock’s head (but not really), Sherlock comes into John’s room at night to take his laptop (but not really), Sherlock is married to his Work (but not really), and John is more than proficient at keeping Sherlock (really, definitely). Part 48 of Mathematical Proof

Assurance by belovedmuerto (T, 2,382 w. || Bed-Sharing, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Idiots in Love) – It’s not so much the ‘you’re half-dead, you wanker,’ or even the broken ribs, the hairline fracture of the pelvis, the dislocated shoulder and knee, and the wrenched ankle.

Eight Letters, One Word by beesandjam (G, 2,520 w || Cuddles and Snuggles, Domestic Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles) – Once Sherlock finds some place comfy, there’s no waking him.

it’s in the details by kimbiablue (T, 3,272 w. || Fluff, First Kiss, Pining Idiots) – Sherlock and John meet with a forensic artist to determine how capable they are able to describe each other. In which John struggles to adequately describe Sherlock Holmes, and also thinks about his lips a lot.

Water Is Another Matter by cathedral_carver (T, 3,903 w. || Pining, First Kiss) – He thinks it’s in trouble, his poor heart.

One Day Like This by nondeducible (E, 4,872 w. || First Time, Bed-Sharing, Romance, Fluff, Virgin Sherlock) – When Sherlock emerged from the bathroom, the sight before him nearly took his breath away. The only light in the room was the small lamp on the bedside table. John’s skin shone like gold, his hair like the purest silver. He was on his side, facing the empty part of the bed, his outstretched hands ready to embrace whoever climbed in next to him. Sherlock could imagine, just for a second, that this was their shared bed and he was coming back to settle into John’s arms.

Bed-Sharing Between Flatmates by testosterone_tea (T, 5,053 w. || 5 and Ones, Bed Sharing, PTSD John, Science, Whump, Insecure Sherlock) – 5 times Sherlock had an excuse to share John’s bed, and the one time he didn’t need one.

To Sleep, Perchance to Smother Your Flatmate with a Pillow by Linpatootie (G, 5,308 w. || Bedsharing, Fluff) - Sherlock wants to conduct a sleep study of sorts. John contemplates smothering him with a pillow. Part 1 of Two Coffees One Black One with Sugar Please (this whole series is amazing, and I love it so much).

the lingering taste of orange juice by darcylindbergh (G, 5,824 w. || Pining Sherlock, Fluff, Miscommunications, Humour) – Sherlock felt the familiar heat surge in his abdomen again at the touch: hope strung taut between head and heart as in all the quiet moments between them, when Sherlock sometimes got the clues all mixed up and thought maybe John felt something too. For once, Sherlock is the idiot.

You’re a Doctor, Fix me by edken (G,  8,342 w. || Sickfic, Fluff / Cuddling) – Sherlock doesn’t do anything halfway, and that includes getting sick. John nurses a very sick flatmate back to health using cuddles, forehead kisses, and a massage. Humor and fluff promised this time, but also some character analysis because who doesn’t love that?

A Terrific Soporific by antietamfalls (T, 11,269 w. || Bed Sharing, Sleepy Cuddles, Fluff, Insomnia, Experiments) – Sherlock, a long-time sufferer of insomnia, is forced to share a bed with John at a hotel while on a case. To his astonishment, he finds that spending the night next to John helps him sleep and becomes determined to maneuver himself back into John’s bed.

Solace Series by CKLizzy (T to E, 21,515 w across 5 stories || Cuddling & Snuggling, H/C, Nightmares) – An Experiment - how long can you keep two characters physically and emotionally close without their relationship turning into a sexual one? Sees the development of John and Sherlock’s relationship from their bedroom’s perspective (no, don’t worry, there will NOT be a talking bedroom in the story).

Knotted by naughtyspirit (E, 23,166 w. || UST/URT, Cuddling, Sharing Body Heat, Confessions, Kissing, Mastrubation, Frustration, BAMF!John) – John has to cancel a date because of Sherlock’s case, which leads them to be tied up in a basement from which they have to escape. They get wet, get tied up close and John has to step up and save them. Because he’s pretty. And hot. And just a little bit of a BAMF.

a good old-fashioned happy ending by darcylindbergh (E, 32,731 w. || Christmas, Frottage, Comfort, Est. Rel., Fluff, Insecure Sherlock) – For Christmas this year, Sherlock wants to get John something special: something every fairytale deserves. Part 2 of things fairy tales are made of

A Love with No Name Series by aceofhearts61 (M, 49,955 w. across 20 fics || Ace!Sherlock / Straight!John, Queerplatonic Relationship, Cuddling/Snuggling, Soulmates, Caretaking, Platonic Romance) – In which Asexual!Sherlock and Straight!John are platonically in love life partners.


Conversations With Idiots by scullyseviltwin (T, 1,744 w || Complete Idiots, Love Confessions, Fluff) – A huge gust of breath comes rushing out of John’s lungs as he steels himself, checks his resolve, and then, “I’m… I’m gone on you.”

John Was Nice Like That by hannah_baker (T, 1,307 w. || Est. Rel., Fluff, Body Worship, John’s Bum) – Sherlock Holmes may not ever sleep, but that hasn’t prevented him from having a kip on the couch with John.

here’s to love (here’s to us) by trustingno1 (G, 1,309 w. || Weddings, Fluff, Best Man Speech) – “I suggested that he ask Greg,” John says, “to which he replied, ‘Who?’,” and Greg pushes back from the table, exasperated. “I then made the mistake of suggesting his brother, to which Sherlock enumerated twenty-three reasons that that was a terrible idea.” (John’s best man speech at Sherlock’s wedding).

Through A Glass by Mildredandbobbin (M, 2,012 w. || Voyeurism, Masturbation, First Kiss) – There is an adjoining door in the bathroom at 221B that leads into Sherlock’s bedroom. The door, from the bathroom to Sherlock’s bedroom, is made of three glass, semi-opaque panels. It has suddenly come to Sherlock’s attention that if he stands in exactly the right spot in his bedroom he can see through said panels, and more to the point, can see John.

It Wasn’t Just the Mistletoe by Irrevocably_Sherlocked (E, 3,593 w. || Christmas Fluff, Mistletoe, First Kiss / Time, Frottage, Masturbation) – Sherlock and John just stood there, seemingly frozen. Sherlock was desperately trying to think of a way out of this. There was no way he could kiss John, even a small kiss, and not have him know immediately how he felt. Sherlock could lie, and fake and sham, but there was no way he could hide this.

Everything by patternofdefiance (E, 4,409 w. || Snuggles and Cuddles, Bed Sharing, Frottage, Vulnerable Sherlock) – John wakes up with an armful of Sherlock.This – situation – is unusual, yes, and definitely unfamiliar, but in no way does it feel wrong.Rather, it feels the exact opposite. Part 13 of I Blame Tumblr

Telling the Bees by siennna (G, 5,174 w. || Fluff, Beekeeping, POV Sherlock, Love Confessions) – It took a beat of silence for the words to settle in, before both of them realized what John said. “You—” Sherlock started. “I—” John said at the same time. “Love me? You love me?” Sherlock asked faintly. Part 3 of sienna’s favorites

all things warm and tender by darcylindbergh (E, 5,177 w. || PWP, Romantic Fluff, Rimming/Anal/BJ’s, Body Worship) – Grinning and giggling, John slides back down under the sheet and pulls it over his head. He finds Sherlock waiting for him, eyes bright and hair wild, the firelight bleeding through the thin fabric, colouring everything in soft peach and topaz, and in that moment he is so suddenly, unexpectedly, ethereally beautiful that John forgets how to breathe.

Problematic by MrsNoggin (E, 6,164 w. || First Time / Kiss, Oral Fixation, Obsessed Sherlock) – Sherlock really wants to ask John something. Only, he’s not sure what…

a good old-fashioned happy ending by darcylindbergh (E, 32,731 w. || Christmas, Frottage, Comfort, Est. Rel., Fluff, Insecure Sherlock) – For Christmas this year, Sherlock wants to get John something special: something every fairytale deserves. Part 2 of things fairy tales are made of

Adlock For Dummies

I was supposed to write some fanfiction, and as usual, I decided to scroll through the Adlock tag to get some feels rolling. But instead, I found myself disappointed at the fact that there has been another fiasco involving hate being present in the tags that caused a back-and-forth between Adlockers and, based on my observation, some Johnlock shippers (and yes, I’m using the entire ship name to have it appear on their tag because tit for tat).

Originally posted by xxvoodoo99xx

So first off, bless you my fellow shippers, @i-am-adlocked, @redwulfgirl, @marvelfangirlandsherlockian4ever, @magicalpostface, to name a few for defending the ship to the core, and for @thank-you-for-being-with-me​ and @themissadventurer​ for explaining wth happened. 

Now, this isn’t me putting gas to the already burning fire, but it is sickening to go over this again and again and again. To be fair, I have tried to be level headed back then about this whole conundrum, but seriously though, this has got to stop. 

Originally posted by itsfandomstuff

So I decided to approach this the Adlock way. I laid out the most common arguments against this ship and I’m going to give my most logical answers to it. Is this going low? Maybe. But hey, it’s a slow night for me so here’s to sharpening up my good ol’ brain cells.

Note: All quote references came from this brilliant post.

PART ONE: Disproving common arguments

1. “But Irene is gay…”

Yes, Irene had said this herself. From what I’ve seen in the fandom, people have a split opinion on the matter, taking Irene as either a lesbian or a bisexual, and coming from individuals who are part of the LGBTQ community, there should be a huge amount of respect for these opinions. But sadly, it has become a fiasco on its own. Now, as someone who is a genderfluid sapiosexual (putting this here because otherwise I would be called out for pushing heteronormativity or spreading homophobia and all those things), I personally think that Irene used the term gay loosely. She obviously prefers women, but is also evidently attracted to Sherlock.

Originally posted by bidoctor

So referencing what Lara Pulver stated back in 2012, “It’s just a label, isn’t it? Because, at the end of the day, I think she had feelings for Sherlock. So then people say, ‘Well, so she’s obviously not gay. She must be bisexual.’ But actually, let’s not label this. Let’s just know that human beings fall for other human beings.”

2. “Shipping Adlock is homophobic”

If we are going by expressed declarations of sexuality, it is important to not only take in Irene Adler’s preference into question. John Watson has been very vocal about not being gay, having been engaged into several relationships prior to his marriage with Mary Morstan, and yet has been subject to claims that he is, in fact, in love with Sherlock Holmes. So, logically speaking, rejecting one point over the other completely disproves the argument. 

3. “There are undeniable proof that Sherlock and John are in love”

This is something I didn’t want to tap on, but felt like I needed to do so. From the ACD canon to the BBC version, there are arguments falling ill to the common notion that the relationship of the two borders on romance. 

Originally posted by yes-yes-this-is-me

It has been a common fictional trope, where a character who is angsty and misunderstood is accepted by a trusty and kind comrade – or a brother not by blood but by bond if you will – and it is something intriguing because it is not so common in real life. This is because as much as it is embraced in fiction, males in real life are often pushed into the stigma of being macho men, for the smallest amount of affection showed towards someone else is regarded to as romantic attraction.

Love is very much present between Sherlock and John, but similar to characters like Frodo and Sam from LotR, Jem and Will from The Infernal Devices, Steve and Bucky from Captain America, and other ‘shippable bromances’, this is, in fact, nothing romantic, because newsflash, romance isn’t the only type of love there is. And the main reason why there are often claimed as so is because of this underlying patriarchal effect that two men can be friends, ‘but hey, no homo’, which frankly makes this all the more absurd. It’s like we hate this thinking but subconsciously, we have fallen deep into the expectations it represents.

4. Queerbaiting

In millions of interviews and conventions, the writers have explicitly said that Sherlock and John are not together, at least not in a romantic fashion, and this is first and foremost a story of their adventures as a detective and his chronicler. So blaming them and accusing them of queerbaiting is very much unfair.

Originally posted by the-state-0f-longing

All the ships have the liberty to ship what they ship, to hold on to every evidence and claim that they have as presented in the show, but to push through with an idea once a conclusion has been drawn seems unfair to the entire fandom altogether. It is fair to feel disappointed towards an episode you didn’t like, but a story and a writer that reels toward what the audience asks it to be is nothing more than laziness. 

YOU. CAN. ALWAYS. STOP. WATCHING. Don’t go as far as ruin the experience for everyone. It’s like because you’re allergic to nuts, then you expect your entire school to ban it and close all the shops in town selling it. 

PART TWO: “Adlock does not make sense”

I felt this needs to be a section on its own because as much as our ship only has a handful of references to play with, I can at least say that Adlock has sailed by itself even without our help. 

1. “So you like policemen?”

Most people who do not ship Adlock claim that Sherlock ‘malfunctioned’ in this scene because he was jealous ‘of’ Irene. But if we look at it, John was the first one who flirted with Irene by trying to make a move using the soldier card in contrast to Irene’s supposed liking of policemen. 

Now to quote Mark Gatiss, “He suddenly meets someone who fascinates him. Holmes and Adler have an intellectual attraction. He doesn’t understand it. It’s like falling in love, but he doesn’t know what it is.”

Originally posted by i-am-adlocked

It was obvious that having this woman one up him distracted him for a fragment of a second that he wanted to get back this air of superiority. Still, she outsmarts him. Also note that the morning after, he has already looked her up on Twitter, showing that she did pique his interest. 

2. “You barely knew her.” 

Abruptly answering is a way to tell when someone is lying according to Sherlock himself. So why did he give a clipped ‘yes’ when John asked if he was okay upon deducing that Irene Adler was ‘dead’?

Plus, nicotine was supposed to be something to keep him at bay – to keep his mind sharp. We saw how much he needs it if he’s an emotional wreck to enable him to think. But when Mycroft gave him low tar because he deemed that Sherlock barely knew Irene, he scoffed. He gave a grunt that sounds humorously offended. If you didn’t catch this then please watch the scene again.

3. “Craving the distraction of the game, I sympathise entirely.”

Sherlock and Irene were each other’s distraction, like the king and the queen of the opposing sides of the chessboard. And this was clearly a declaration that Sherlock was aware of how attracted he was to her, probably more so on an intellectual level, and that he genuinely wanted to understand and even impress her, much like her attempts to do so with him. 

Originally posted by athingwithpeas

4. “There’s no point in my leaving the flat for anything less than a seven, we agreed.”

Karachi is 4,906.6 miles from London. Just putting it out there. 

Oh and a challenge from Mr. Cumberbatch himself from 2015:  “They had a night. Irene Adler and Sherlock had a night. I’m absolutely certain of that. Deal with me.”

5. “I’ll still have it.”

Why would he ask for Irene’s Vertu? What did “The Woman… THE Woman.” mean? Going back to ASiP, the most obvious reference is “If she’d left him, he would’ve kept it. People do, sentiment.”

It was his obvious admission that Irene did in fact beat her, because she made him show that he did care about whatever it is that they had.

And add to his collection of all sentimental things, plus in reference to a Chekov’s gun, the rose in the hospital window in HLV disappeared, meaning Sherlock took it with him when he escaped. They wouldn’t show that camera play without meaning tbh.

6. “Get out of my head, I’m busy.”

Seeing how Sherlock’s mind palace works, he projects people in his mind as he needs them to be – whether it be their opinions, the moral balance they lead him to, etc. 

As his mind illustrates, Mycroft is often shown in a setting where he is regarded to as an important compass for intellect and logic, whereas John is often the one who offers practical and emotional approaches. Molly in HLV was presented such as a medical reference, and Anderson represents the firm believer that despite the perils and impossibilities, he can surpass death once more – quite a touching nod to TEH Anderson, tbh.

Originally posted by sorrowsflower

Anyway, going back to that scene in ASoT, it was clear that the mere thought of The Woman sent him a wave of distraction and nostalgia. His representation of her was with the look of affection and longing, something projected by his own subconscious. 

7. The pocketwatch in TAB

As this is all happening in his subconscious, the mere idea that John ‘his moral and emotional compass’ Watson brings up the thought of Irene Adler in the pocketwatch is an internal dialogue of his logic going against the musings of his heart. 

8.  “People text. Even I  text. Her, I mean. Woman. Bad idea. Try not to, but you know, sometimes…”

Sometimes, what? That is the question, don’t you think? 

In addition to the whole bromance thing, John expressing his grief in front of Sherlock cancels out the whole macho man facade and simply offers what years of friendship between them developed: trust. In this, Sherlock must’ve felt like the whole ‘I don’t text her back’ statement was already overdue, and just as how John confessed that he’s not as good as anyone holds him up to be, Sherlock also felt like it’s time to not be embarrassed to reveal that he is also, at times, vulnerable against his own impulses. 

Originally posted by i-am-adlocked

9. Irene knows Sherlock’s birthday + “The Woman will cry”in HLV

As I see them as people who don’t really fall much into these formalities, and also averting to the common notion that Sherlock and Irene’s relationship circulates in nothing more than lust, I’d like to point out that the main tether that tied them together is their intellectual connection. BUT, bordering to personal information, especially as  they are not people who would succumb to conventional topics of conversations, knowing Sherlock’s birthday and having his subconscious relate Irene Adler as someone who will be deeply affected by his death mean that their relationship has been long past simply passing time with mind games and solving cases. 

10. He still has all her texts, has her name in his phone as The Woman, and saved that bloody text alert EVEN AFTER CHANGING PHONES

If this doesn’t shout sentiment, then I don’t even know…

11. “Play you.”

Now one argument about this is that maybe Sherlock played this because ‘play you’ simply means ‘play something you composed.’ BUT, Eurus also did tell Sherlock to play something he understands

Originally posted by kaneabigails

After the statement regarding sex, it is clear that Sherlock is not as fazed as he was back in ASiB on the matter, and going beyond the implied physicality, it also shows that after all those years, Sherlock finally has an understanding as to why he wrote that piece for Irene Adler. It’s another solidification that they have developed a deeper relationship than just two people enjoying the company of the other for the mind games they provide, but they can even go as far as claim that they deem the other person as important.

And so, any other statements about Sherlock and Irene’s relationship in front and behind the camera is found in the post I used as a reference, which you can read here: http://sorrowsflower.tumblr.com/post/156423437518/compilation-of-adlock-quotes

Now if someone is up for an argument or would like to add anything else, my message box and replies are always open. With this off my chest, I think I’ll start working on those fanfictions again. :)

I just need to get this off my chest.

When you see me talking over excitedly or crying about a certain character or a TV show or a book , don’t tell me they’re ‘just’ books , they’re 'just’ characters, they’re 'just’ ships because NO , they’re not .
When a person gets obsessed with some character or show , it’s because they’re either escaping reality or somehow see themselves in the character. They’ve been inspired or taught something by that character.
It’s not childish or stupid to love a fictional character . Sometimes even fictional things can make you feel less alone .
When you insult my favorite character or show , It’s like you’re insulting me , you’re insulting my choices or you’re insulting my emotions .
It hurts because they are a part of me .
People defend their fandoms because they understand what it’s like to be an outcast or push people away or be jealous of an almighty sibling or be a rape survivor or to make all the wrong choices or be bullied …… the point is , fandoms are way more to me (and a lot of people) than just a way to kill time .
Sure , there are people who just watch a movie for fun or read a book cause they have nothing else to do or just randomly watch a show because they need something to see while they’re eating but there are also people who’ve been deeply affected by their fandoms.
For all you know , a fictional character has SAVED THEIR LIFE !
I have prayed for Daenerys , I’ve cried for Fred , I’ve learned with Hermione , I’ve been sad with Draco , I’ve loved Loki , I’ve traveled with The Doctor , I’ve been inspired by Arya Stark , I’ve observed with Sherlock , I’ve laughed with Chandler , I’ve hunted with the Winchesters , I’ve fought with the Avengers , I’ve guarded the galaxy and I’ve lived more lives by reading than I can count.
The TV shows , the books , the movies , the comics, they were all there when I didn’t have enough courage or confidence to make friends , they were there when I was feeling like hell and all alone , they were there when I needed a good laugh after a tiring day , they were there even when no one else was . They were there when I felt like I had no reason to go on ,they were there when I just wanted to relax in my bed with a cup of coffee.
And they are REAL TO ME !

You don’t have to be a part of my fandom , you don’t have to love what I love but don’t tell me that I’m stupid to love and appreciate something that has gotten me through a lot of shit .
You don’t know what goes on in someone else’s life , you don’t know what a character means to someone , you don’t know what a book has done for someone .
You don’t have to understand it , just don’t insult it .

cynicalselkie  asked:

Hello! Could I have a Sherlock story where the reader is having a major anxiety/depression attack and Sherlock helps her through it? Lots of fluff? Please and thank you!

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Warnings: Anxiety Attack

A/N: well, that was.. intense haha, but such an amazing request, though. Thank you, sweetheart! <33 you know how much I love sherlock requests, so it was my pleasure to write this. (also, officially added Sherlock to my fandoms page)


This wasn’t the first time you’ve experienced a panic attack like that, but it was, by far, the worst you’ve had in a very, very long time.

That was mainly, because things had been building up inside you for such a long time now. You kept trying to push it down, trying to ignore it, because you kept telling yourself that you were feeling better. You were over all of this. No more anxiety attacks.

But sitting on the bathroom floor of Sherlock’s flat in 221B, your legs pulled up against your upper body, clinging on them for dear life and rocking back and forth, while trying to calm yourself, made it clear that, no, you were not over any of this. Not even in the slightest.

Sherlock and you were the only ones in the flat. John was with Rosie and Mrs. Hudson was running errands, so instead of asking either of them to check up on you, he had to do it himself for once, even if he tried convincing himself, that he didn’t care enough about you to ask if you were alright. But he did.

Oh, he really, really cared.

When he counted 15 minutes in his head, he had enough and got up from his comfortable armchair, walking over to the bathroom door. First, he tried to listen, but could only hear the water of the bathroom sink running.

So he slowly, very slowly raised his hand to the door and knocked twice.


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How Do We Fall in Love?

Pairing: SherlockxReader/MoriartyxReader (Idek, man.)

Warnings: Mentions of sex, gun threats, mentions of criminal past (it is the Sherlock fandom, this should be no surprise). Maybe light cursing, I don’t remember.

A/N: I AM SO SORRY MY LOVELIES. I’ve been SUPER busy, and just haven’t had time to post anything. I am so so so sorry.

Originally posted by enola-holmes-sherlock


Sherlock’s heart sped so fast, he could hear the fear coursing through his veins. A screeching so loud, he swore everyone within a four kilometer radius could hear. The words repeated over and over, what appeared to be a simple little comment on his blog became an omen of everything that could’ve possibly gone wrong.

Lovely girl you’ve got,
But can she stand her own flames?
Fires can be very dangerous…

He’d replied eight times over, attempting to get more clues. His head was spinning, trying to solve the clue at the bottom of the recent picture of you and him. Something John had posted on Sherlock’s blog in his place, and it may’ve given you you away to Moriarty.
The name sent chills down his spine. What used to be a fun challenge had turned into his own personal hell.

And now the devil had the woman who mattered most to him, and all the clues in the world couldn’t help him, because his mind refused to process. John, Mycroft, Lestrade- everyone was trying to help, but to no true avail. Moriarty still had you…

Then a call came in- no, less of a call, more of a clue, one so simple, even George could figure it out. But before anyone else could evaluate it, Sherlock had sneaked off, hurrying to the same place he’d faced the Black Lotus General- only to be met with another clue, this time leading to an abandoned flat on the outskirts of London. He huffed as he climbed the stairs, feeling like his lungs may burst at any moment from the over use, but he could still see the image of your glittering eyes burned into his mind.


Jim tilted your head towards him as you both waited, away from the window that you could see your “knight in shining armor” come to “rescue you”. His thumb grazed along your jaw, lifting until his eyes burned into yours.

“Problem, my little desert rose?” He purred, eyes dead save for a twinkle of insanity, and a smirk so dangerous it could kill you without a touch.

“None, sir.” You answered appropriately, but the way he grabbed your wrist immediately told you that your little lie hadn’t gone unnoticed. Your eyes snapped shut at the immediate, but bearable pain. Despite his cold exterior, you both knew Jim would never actually hurt you, but his threats were never to be taken lightly.

Just because he wouldn’t hurt you, didn’t mean he would have any problem leaving you for the dogs…

“I just- is it necessary that I be here, sir?” You kept it polite as possible, allowing your eyes to open again, being met with a quizzical stare. That’s right, you thought, he doesn’t understand complex emotions… You stared back, trying to hide what you could behind a blank mask. From this short distance, you could feel his breath fanning over your lips, like it’d done many times before. Though, usually, it came with a sleepless night, and marks left for the next day, claiming what was his.

“Remind me, pet,” Great, now he was upset, “Why’re we here?” He took a step forward despite there being no room, forcing you to move back, and repeatedly did so, until your back hit the wall of your old flat.

“To bring down Sherlock Holmes.” You muttered shakily, feeling very contrasting emotions from his close proximity, the combination making you dizzy and nauseous. Your hand hit the wall with a gathered force of his anger and something underlying that wasn’t quite as clear.

“Now, wouldn’t we want him to see his little sweet, sweet love betraying him, pet?” He hissed out each word, face inches from yours as his plan ricocheted in your head.

“I put you onto the playing field to make Sherlock Holmes fall for the girl of his dreams- not the other way around.” Your breath hitched in your throat, head shaking as much as possible. You didn’t know what you felt for Sherlock, or perhaps it was simply nothing, and you just felt the need to protect the one person who’d ever cared for you- but you definitely would overlook it for your life.

“It’s not like that- Jim, you know me, and it’s not like that. I know the plan, and-” He already seemed to be calming some, though his eyes still showed rage inside, “I would never betray you like that.” Sadly, it was true. Jim had protected you when you made the biggest mistake of your life- from both the government and any criminal organizations out to kill you. Six years, and he’d given you everything you could ever need, at the simple cost of working for him. He never had you do much, and never pushed you into anything you were uncomfortable with, and hey- the door was always open, if you’d ever do choose death over him.

But that’s the thing about Jim Moriarty. He is death, in his own sense, just in much prettier packaging. He twists your mind, until nothing exists but him, and he always gets what he wants, and always makes it seem like that’s what you wanted, all along. And you’d caught on to the game early on- never cared to stop it, but then again, if you did, then you’d be boring like everyone else.

He smirked the slightest bit, fingers brushing against your cheek like rose petals in the wind, “Oh, my little desert blossom…” he leaned closer like he would kiss you, “I’ll believe it when I see it. Choose Holmes, and you’ve only got yourself to blame for your untimely demise.” He said it the same way he would words of endearment, the sickly feeling seeping into you, but his tone drawing you closer.

“You’re a double edged sword, you know that?” You muttered, somewhat wishing you could betray James- even the slightest bit. You couldn’t care less about your protection. It’s just that your sense of loyalty rested with the consulting criminal, and you could never give that up. His lips brushed against yours just as the door opened downstairs, and you fought down the temptation to tell Sherlock to just stay put.

But as Jim’s lips fully encased yours, not a sound left your mouth. Footsteps echoed up the stairs, and still, you were engulfed by the madman. Infatuated.

The door to the old flat building was kicked open, the ancient lock flying off the door. You heard the gun before you saw it..

Click, “Let. Her. Go.” He demanded, as if you hadn’t just been kissing the criminal a second ago. Your eyes went wide as Jim pulled away, smirking with a demented glint in his eyes. The same one that sliced down into your very core, ripping anyone in its path to shreds.

“Oh, Sherlock… tsk… tsk… tsk…” The gun stayed trained on Jim, and every second ticked down, ringing in your ears. You looked between the two, staying next to the wall, unsure if you were even allowed to say anything, or if it’d mess up Jim’s plan. Jim circled around Sherlock, the gun lowering slightly the moment he was away from you. Soon he was in front of you, again, eyes lit up with knowing that Sherlock was absolutely clueless. Jim held his hand out to you, more of an offering than a demand. Cocky bastard. He knew you’d choose him.

“Let’s let our fair blossom decide, hm?” You wished you could say you even considered choosing Sherlock for a split second, but then again, that’d be pointless. The moment you left Jim’s side, you’d be dead… Your hand reached out for Jim’s, not a hesitation in the motion.

“Y/n, I know who you are.” Sherlock said flatly, your head snapping to him, hand drawing back. Jim’s eyes went black at the reaction, oh so tempted to just snatch your hand.

“I can help you- protect you. You don’t need him!” Sherlock insisted, stepping closer, and offering out his hand. His eyes sparkled with desperation, genuinely wanting you to come with him. He didn’t want to beat Moriarty, or use you for his own agendas. He just wanted to protect you… and that was enough. Your hand shook, uncertainty spreading through you. You had never left Jim’s side- never questioned him. You’d let him use you until you ran dry, because… that’s all you’d ever known. But here was Sherlock… and he genuinely cared for you..

Could he protect you? Could he, really?

Sherlolly Appreciation Week, Day 2- First Date

Last minute decided to write this one for Day 2. It kind of randomly came to me, but I ended up being pretty happy with some of the Sherlock feelsies in this one. Enjoy! ;)

Fancy a Date?

“Thank you again, Molly,” Sherlock said genuinely as the cab neared her flat in the dark of night. “And I know John is grateful. Rosie was a bit too crabby for a sitter tonight.”

“Oh no problem, I don’t mind.” She smiled and began gathering her bags in preparation to exit the once the vehicle stopped.

Sherlock felt suddenly panicky. The evening had been so wonderful up till then. They’d analyzed clues from a body, tracked down a suspect, informed Lestrade, and got the man arrested. It had all been rather perfect, and Sherlock hardly wanted it to end now. It was probably one of the best days they’d spent together since the mess of Sherrinford.

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Nightmares - Sherlock x Reader

Originally posted by schedulingemotions

Prompts requested by Anon. I hope it’s what you wanted!

Prompt 17: “I can’t lose you, not again.”
Prompt 86: “I had a nightmare about you and I just waned to make sure you’re okay.”

Word Count: 1240

Warnings: mentions of suicide kind of??

Smiling to yourself as you saw which caller ID was lighting up your phone screen, you put down the medical supplies you were carrying and answered the call.

“Well this is a surp-“ you started happily, but were cut off mid-sentence.
“Y/N…” The calm and steady voice you were used to had been replaced by a shaky and unsure one, and you were immediately nervous.
“Sherlock, what’s wrong?” In all the time you had known him, you had not once heard this tone leave his mouth, and so the feeling settling in your stomach was an uneasy one.

“Y/N… I just… I had to say goodbye” his voice cracked as the last word left his mouth, and your panic started to rise.
“Sherlock, what are you talking about? What’s going on?” You hoped to god he was just joking around, but you knew that joking around wasn’t really Sherlock Holmes’ style. You didn’t know why, but you started to run. You had to get out of the lab you were in; it felt as though the walls had started to close around you and you needed to get out in the open. You could hear the stuttered breathing on the other end of the line.

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Troublesome Cases

Originally posted by roadswewalk

Pairing: Sherlock x Reader (ft. John)

Content/Warnings: Fluff

Words: 528

A/N: I’ve got another request down, guys! This one from @hpfan0324 - 71, 74, and 75 with Sherlock. I hope I did it justice :)

Prompts are open

You were shook up, to say the least. Sure you knew a lot of people didn’t like Sherlock - he was rude and as blunt as they came - but getting threatened by a gang Sherlock was investigating was enough for even you to get spooked. Your fingers tapped uneasily against your leg as you climbed the stairs that led to 221B, not bothering to knock before entering.

John glanced up from his newspaper as you walked in, offering you a friendly smile. “Hey, Y/N, how are you ? You look a bit pale, everything okay?”

You shrugged, plopping down into Sherlock’s chair with a sigh. “Don’t know.”

“What’s the matter?” The doctor asked, concerned. Sherlock hadn’t so much as looked up from his microscope, and you wondered for a moment what it would be like to date a guy who was better with feelings (and didn’t keep heads in the fridge).

“It’s his new case, that’s what,” You snapped worriedly. “I think I’m in trouble, honestly.”

“Considering you think I have the traits of a good boyfriend, probably,” Sherlock murmured sarcastically, still focused on whatever he was looking at through his microscope.

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She Does Now

This is for @mizjoely  simply because I felt like giving her a fic! Anyhoo, it’s T rated for one or two bad words. Post TFP a touch of angst but love abounds! It’s also posted here on AO3 and here on FF.net. Enjoy~Lil~

“Okay Sherlock, I’m here, on my day off, what do you need?” Molly said as she tossed her jacket on the chair next to her and sat across from the detective. It had been an odd request, to say the least, when Sherlock had phoned (not sent a text) and asked her to join him at Screaming Beans, her second favourite coffee shop, but she hadn’t hesitated to meet him.

“Here.” He pushed a large latte towards her before picking up his own mug and taking a drink. “How’s our goddaughter?”

Small talk, really? Another oddity. “Amazing, perfect, beautiful. But I might be biased,” she replied with a smile then took a small sip of her drink. She had been sitting with Rosie when he’d phoned. Saturday mornings were designated ‘girl time’ for her and her goddaughter. “So, what’s this all about? John? He seems to be doing much better if that’s what you wanted to…”

“No,” he interrupted. “This has nothing to do with John.”

That’s when she noticed the contemplative expression on the detective’s face. He looked like he sometimes did when he was working out the last bits of a case. She’d seen that face many times in the lab and morgue. Something about this seemed personal, however. “Sherlock, whatever it is, you know you can talk to me, right?”

Turning his focus on her, he stared like he was trying to figure something out, but didn’t speak.

“Is it your sister? Have you just visited her lately?” Molly asked, trying to pry the information out of the man.

He shook his head. “No. No, it’s not Eurus.”

“Okay, but…” she was going to ask more questions, but suddenly his face changed from thoughtful to determined.

“You didn’t know,” he said.

I didn’t know? Oh, my God… “Sherlock, are you high?”

He waved his hand and shook his head. “I’m clean, Molly. I promise. But something dawned on me this morning and I’ve been thinking about it ever since.”

“What is it?”

Taking a deep breath, he picked up his coffee cup and drained the last of it. “It occurred to me that if you didn’t know that, which I realised before, then you must not know everything else either.”

Molly steadied herself; it was going to be one of those conversations. The ones where Sherlock seemed to know exactly what was going on, but she’d have to piece it together like a puzzle (or incredibly complex differential equation). Usually, when he was in the midst of one of these broken rambling discussions (using that word lightly, because her input was rarely needed) he was buried in a case; just working out the final component that would solidify his deduction. This was clearly different.

“Sherlock,” she said, drawing his focus once again. “Do you want a refill?” She hoped that she could give him a moment to work out what he was trying to say.

“Please. And see if they have a decent looking muffin.”

Molly rolled her eyes. “Blueberry?”

“Chocolate. Something chocolate.”

Definitely not a case. She took her time walking to the front of the shop trying to shake the feeling of foreboding that was looming in the back of mind. “Coffee and two of these,” she instructed, pointing to the decadent looking chocolate muffins behind the glass. “Do they have nuts in them?” She hated nuts. Well, not all nuts. Almonds were okay and she could tolerate the occasional pistachio, but…

“No,” the ginger teenager behind the counter answered. “But they’re not gluten free.

"O-kay. Um, I have no issue with gluten. How much?”

“Oh, that bloke in the coat opened a tab.”

“He what?”

“I know. Weird, that one. But he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Said that he’d be here for a while and would need… what did he call it? Oh right, fuel! Needed to fuel himself.” He suddenly looked embarrassed. “S-sorry. I didn’t mean to insult your boyfriend.”

Molly laughed. “He’s not my boyfriend and he’s not weird.” He handed her the coffee. “Well, he is a bit odd, I suppose. Just different. Incredibly smart, really. And…” She huffed. “Never mind. Can I have my muffins?”

The ginger had been holding them while she tried to define Sherlock’s personality. It really was a lost cause.

“Sorry, madam,” he said, his voice squeaking as he finally relinquished his hold on the pastry.

I hate getting madam’d, she thought as she made her way back to Sherlock. “Chocolate muffin. No nuts and plenty of gluten.”

He wrinkled his nose at her joke, but let it pass. “You don’t know about when I was shot,” he said as soon as she sat down.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

You're an extraordinary writer! I was wondering if you could write one that is based of 6 Thatchers, but instead of Mary dying, it's the reader who sacrifices herself in order to save Sherlock. If you want, make it angsty. The ending is up to you :)) thanksss!

Originally posted by whenisayrunrun

Reader x Sherlock

“Sherlock stop.” You muttered quietly, glancing back and forth between Sherlock and the gun pointed at him.

But he wouldn’t stop. Sherlock drawled on, blurting out every last detail of her plan while the gun steadily remained aimed towards him.

And for the first time you saw something before the great Sherlock Holmes. Without thinking twice, you dove in between Sherlock and the bullet. Pain coursed through your body as it hit your chest and you fell to the floor.

“Y/N! Someone call an ambulance!” Sherlock bellowed in shock as he rushed to your side and propped your head up. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Lestrade and the rest of the police arrest your shooter. Sherlock pressed his hands to your wound. “I have to stop the bleeding. I have to-”

“Sherlock.” You smiled softly. “Sherlock, stop. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. You were shot, because of me. She shot you because I couldn’t stop. This is all my fault.” Sherlock spoke quickly, as he often did when he was struck with disbelief and guilt.

“I jumped in front of you because you need to finish this case.” You could feel yourself having a harder time to breath. “You need to solve this case, and stop Moriarty.”

“He’s dead.” Sherlock looked down at you with glossy eyes.

“And somehow he’s still beating you.” You reminded him. “You need to beat him.”

“I need to get you to a hospital.” Sherlock choked out before looking up at everyone. “Where is that ambulance? I need an ambulance now!”

You gently placed your hand on top of his and smiled. “Thank you.”

“Thank you?” Sherlock asked confused. “What are you thanking me for?”

“For being the greatest friend anyone could’ve asked for.” You told him.

“Don’t do that.” Sherlock shook his head. “Don’t say your goodbyes. You aren’t going anywhere.”

“Sherlock.” You felt your eyelids get heavier with each breath you took. “Thank you.”

With that, you released your last breath and lay limp in Sherlock’s arms.

“Y/N?” He asked softly. “Y/N, don’t leave me.”

Sherlock wept over your body for a moment, pressing one last kiss to your forehead. He remembered how much you always loved his forehead kisses. “You were so much more than a friend to me, Y/N. You were my everything. And I wish I could’ve told you how much I loved you- still love you.”

Sherlock moved back ever so slightly and looked down at you. Tears flowed freely down his face as he looked at the halo your hair had made as you laid in his lap.

Tagged as requested: @marvel-is-my-life2099, @allheart36

elennemigo  asked:

Fictional kiss prompts: 10 for Sherlolly! Please and thank you! 😙

#10- staring at each other’s lips, trying not to kiss them, before giving in

Here you go, m’dear! This was the first idea that came to me when I saw this one, so I hope you enjoy. 😉 

“So, what should I say?” Molly asked, settling into the couch next to Sherlock.

“Doesn’t really matter,” he said with a wave. “I just need to practice. What sort of detective would I be if I can’t accurately read lips?”

Molly shrugged. “Ok then, I’ll just…start.” She slowly mouthed some words.

Sherlock sighed. “Honestly, Molly, that’s not how people really talk. They’re not going to be slowly and clearly enunciating if I’m secretly observing at a distance. And I think you can get a bit more complex than ‘thank you.’”

“You just said it didn’t matter,” she countered with a roll of her eyes. “But ok fine. If you insist, I’ll make it trickier.”

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, watching her little lips move along with the silent words she spoke. He thought for a moment.

“I might slap you again?” he guessed.

She grinned. “Well done!”

“Ok, try another,” Sherlock asked with a little clap of his hands, encouraged by his correct deduction.

She gave him an interesting glance up and down, and then mouthed some more words, his eyes riveted the whole time. This was strangely more enjoyable than he expected it to be. And he definitely felt his ears warm up a bit this time, as he repeated the words back to her.

“How can a shirt be…” He cleared his throat. “That sexy?”

“Very good,” she replied more softly, a little glimmer in her eyes. “Again?”

Sherlock nodded, his mouth feeling a bit dry suddenly. His eyes focused on her lips again, and he couldn’t help but note the way hers did the same for a moment with him. It was probably best if he just focused on learning this skill and stopped thinking about how her mouth was moving and the brief glimpses he was getting of her tongue and teeth. Might not be appropriate, given the circumstances of her helping him as a friend.

But as he watched her rosy lips form these next words, he instantly felt like his heart was going to pound its way out of his chest. Whatever sort of game she was playing at…he quite liked it.

“I wish I could wear that shirt,” Sherlock repeated to her, raising a brow in a little surprise which made her blush.

Sherlock was vaguely aware of the fact that he scooted over closer before she spoke this time. Although he was doing just fine, he instinctively felt the need to have a better view.

Molly tucked some hair behind her ears and bit her lip for a moment before mouthing another phrase. His gaze darted from her mouth to her eyes then, unable to pick a focal point as her words fully registered.

“No, you’re not,” Sherlock finally murmured.

“I didn’t say-“

“I was answering you,” he interrupted quickly, meeting her now widened eyes as he clarified. “No, you’re not the only one who wants this.”

They stared frozen and agape at each other for only about two seconds before they both dove in, clinging desperately to each other as their mouths collided, driven by every bit of passion that had been built up and held back over the years.

It took no time at all for Sherlock to decided that this was the kind of lip reading that should now be given top priority.

Christmas at Holmes Cottage - The Sixth Ficlet

The next couple of days went by without too much issue, John thought. If Mycroft had any doubts, he didn’t say anything, and everyone was getting on well. Greg got used to the Holmes family rather quickly - it helped that their parents were much more ordinary than the brothers - and him and Sherlock kept up their act almost naturally at this point.

It wasn’t until Christmas evening, after dinner, that things took a turn. Sherlock had gone off somewhere, John didn’t know where, so he went to the others to ask them. Greg and Mycroft didn’t know, but the Holmes father did. 

“Oh, he went upstairs. Said something about needing to find a place to store his gifts,” the man said, a twinkle in his eye as he spoke. John supposed it was the wine. “Maybe you should go help him. He has a tendency to take a while to sort new things into his systems. One year we got him some new socks and he spent over an hour reorganizing that sock index of his.”

John had to laugh at that, shaking his head fondly. “Yeah, that sounds like him. I’ll go see what I can do.”

Making his way up the stairs, he went into Sherlock’s room, bumping into the man in the doorway. “Oh, hey. You all set with sorting your gifts?” he asked, but it looked like Sherlock didn’t even hear him. “Sherlock? Everything all right?”

“John. Look up.” The detective hadn’t moved his gaze, and when John directed his upward, he understood why. 


“How did… I swear that wasn’t there yesterday,” John said, frowning in confusion. 

“No, it wasn’t,” Sherlock agreed. “I suspect it was Mummy’s doing. She does like to be a bit overzealous with it.”

“But why here?” John didn’t understand. “Seems a bit out of the way.”

“Probably ran out of other doorways. She has way too much of the stuff.”

“Ah.” Nodding a bit, John brought his gaze back down and shrugged a little. “Well, if you’re done up here I suppose we can just head back down,” he said, turning a bit and making to step away when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“John, wait,” Sherlock said, voice softer now as his gaze moved to meet John’s own.

“What? Were you coming to get me to help, is that it?” John asked, figuring that was the only deduction that made sense. They’d both agreed that they didn’t have to keep up the couple act when nobody else was around, so he didn’t think that was it.

“No, no, I actually am done. That was an impressive deduction, though, given the circumstances. But incorrect. You lack all the context.”

“Well, what is it, then?” John asked, feeling a surge of hope in his chest. Though he quickly pushed it down; he’d known going in that this was all fake.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you, that I’ve been wanting to say since we’ve been here, and even a lot longer than that. But I haven’t; I’ve been, well, scared…”

“Sherlock, what-?” John started, but Sherlock put a finger to his lips and he stopped immediately. 

“Please, John, just let me continue. I.. I need to say it now, and I need to say it all at once.” Sherlock waited until John nodded in understanding, then lowered his hand. “You know I don’t make friends easily. I tried, but people never stayed, so I just stopped trying. Until Mike set us up as roommates. I felt like I had a chance at being your friend. Then one crime scene and a chase across London later I was entirely committed and devoted to doing all I could to be your friend. Even if it didn’t always seem like I was trying that hard, I was doing my best.”

“Then when I, er, left, I didn’t say anything to you because I really cared about you. You were my best friend, and though I wished I could have said something, I was scared you would get hurt. I never truly knew how many men Moriarty had watching you, and I didn’t want to think about what they might have been able to do if they had any idea that I was alive and had interacted with you. I know now that what I put you through was far worse than what I had imagined, and I really am sorry.”

“After things got back to normal, and your therapist helped you to see that Mary was doing you no good, I didn’t expect anything to change. We were friends again, and I was happy. But it did change. I.. I’m in love with you, John. I have been for, well, a while. Longer perhaps than I even know. But I never dared to say because of how many times you corrected people who thought we were a couple, and that almost scared me out of asking you to come here with me. The reason I did is because, for a little while, I wanted to know what it would feel like if we were really together. Instead though, all I’ve been able to focus on is how much it hurts that this isn’t real.”

John blinked a few times as he took in everything Sherlock had said, his mind buzzing yet simultaneously stuck on one point. Sherlock Holmes just told him that he loved him. Laughing incredulously, he looked up at Sherlock with a bewildered smile. “Sherlock, I.. Where do I start?”

“I only corrected people because I was convinced that you had no desire for this. That first night at Angelo’s, I thought you were basically saying you weren’t interested in any aspect of an intimate relationship.”

“Then why did you always insist you weren’t gay?” Sherlock asked.

“Hardwired and instinctive response from when I was growing up. My parents were shit. My dad especially. He drove Harry to drink - not Clara - and I was never brave enough to be who I was around them like she had been. Besides, I’m bi. Not gay.”

“So then.. Are you saying..what I think you’re saying?”

“Sherlock, you daft genius, yes. I love you too,” John said, beaming up at the detective - his detective - with so much more emotion in his gaze than he’d allowed himself to show since they’d arrived. 

“Then that makes us a couple,” Sherlock said with a grin that was just as bright. “And I believe there’s a rule about couples standing under mistletoe, is there not?”

John laughed. “Yes. Yes there is. Y'know, I completely forgot that was up there.” Rolling his eyes fondly, he moved so he was properly sharing Sherlock’s space, pulling him down by his shirt collar and kissing him. It was heavenly, and if it weren’t for the fireworks coursing through his entire being he might have thought he was only dreaming.

(that got longer than expected, whoops. but i hope you can agree that it was worth it for these idiots to get together :) )

(submitted by johnlocked-starkid)

(PART 1) | (PART 2) | (PART 3) | (PART 4) | (PART 5)

OMG ARE YOU KIDDING OF COURSE IT WAS WORTH IT!!! <3 I love this so much!!!!!!! THANK YOU!!!!!!

The game

Originally posted by forevermore-fanatic

(Gif not mine)

A/N: Here’s another sherlock Fic im sorry if its bad I didn’t really have any ideas feedback is encouraged. Have a good day :) <3

Pairing: Jim Moriarty x reader

Warnings: None

Characters: Jim Moriarty, Reader, Sherlock, John

Summary: Moriarty’s plans are simple kidnap John and meet sherlock in the pool but things go a different direction when Y/N shows up.

You were always ready for the next adventure that sherlock was going to drag you on, you had gotten used to it after knowing him for a while. It wasn’t new information when John kept telling you how crazy he was. Although you thought he was a bit crazy you had to admit that was one of the things that had drawn you into him in the first place.

It seemed that everyday some crazy killer would barge into your room. After some time you got used to it and waited a few seconds for Sherlock to come behind him. Moriarty was no different, of course you knew him before the consulting detective. You always seemed to know first and he hated that but this time you found out about him a different way.

It had been a long day after helping Sherlock with a rather long case but nevertheless you just made some tea and got out a good book to relax. You heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and then a pause you knew that wasn’t sherlock… But it wasn’t john either it was different. After a long pause the footsteps continued until they reached your door. You were sure that the person at the door was probably a crazy murderer but you knew Sherlock was one step ahead so you didn’t worry about it.

You waited and waited then the door opened very slowly, that puzzled you. If it was a crazy murderer they wouldn’t have just opened the door, from past experience they always would just kick down the door. In that moment you realized that was no ordinary killer there was something about it that wasn’t right.

“Hello, Y/N right” you stared at the man trying to figure out who he was he looked very familiar but nothing came to mind, he was wearing a black suit and had his black hair brushed back. “Uh yeah? Who are you?” You answered the man stared at you and extended his hand towards you “Names Jim Moriarty” that name ringed a bell inside your head but you couldn’t quite figure out where you had heard it. “Do I know you?” You asked hesitantly “No, but I know your friend Sherlock” “How?” “Well let’s say I’m the one who wanted to play a fun game with him, I’ve heard he loves games” you instantly had flashback’s to the Cases the bombs, the pictures everything came rushing in.

You stared in disbelief you couldn’t believe who was standing in front of you “Why are you here?” You felt incredibly dumb asking a criminal that but it was true if he wanted to kidnap you he would have done it already. “Its a warning” “Excuse me?” “Stay away from sherlock” “Why?” “Something’s about to go down and you, you are special I don’t need you being killed” “What?” “I can’t really tell you but if you want to stay alive you better not tell your friend about it”.

With that he left, you were pretty smart but that encounter had left you with so many questions that couldn’t be answered.

After a while you received a call from mrs.Hudson it went something along the line of i haven’t seen sherlock or john can you make sure they are okay. Sherlock was always out and about but most times would leave clues and that’s how you would find him.

Mrs.Hudson trusted you so she asked you to make sure Sherlock or John didn’t die. After some time you finally figured out where they were.

You slowly opened the door and tried hiding in the shadows so its harder to spot you. Slowly but surely you came at a stop where you heard that familiar voice again. “No one ever gets to me… And no one ever will” with that it took you less than a second to figure out who that was. You moved closer towards the light to take a better look at the situation, but just as you were about to take a look someone grabbed your arm and picked you up from your crouching position. They quickly through you in front of Sherlock and left, from there you were able to figure out what was happening.

“Look who decided to show up” Jim said in a funny voice you looked at him then looked at John that had a bomb strapped to him and looked at Sherlock who had a little red light pointed at his forehead then back at Jim. Damn it you had one job you were just supposed to check if they were okay not get all of you guys killed. You had a very long day so even with a gun pointed at your head you looked him straight in the eyes and said “Really Moriarty? Your going to do this right now?” Sherlock quickly looked at you surprised with a look that said your going to get us killed but he didn’t say anything. After what you said Jim was practically dying of laughter which also shocked sherlock. Both John and sherlock exchanged glaces and stared at you. “Wow, we should go get a coffee sometime” “sounds nice” now both John and sherlock were staring at you with their faces only of pure horror.

After that he signaled something to the people holding the guns and the red light on Sherlocks forehead disappeared. He quickly wrote down something on a peace of paper and slipped it in your pocket as he winked at you and said “Got to go” and left. You and Sherlock quickly rushed to John and started taking off the bomb. You quickly got out and started to examine the piece of paper which had his phone number and john looked at you with a straight face and said “You are not really thinking of calling him are you?”

Paparazzi [Part II]

Pairing: SherlockxReader

Warnings: Kidnapping, little fluff at the end, mormor angst, gunshot (to the shoulder), badass reader, little Sherlock…

A/N Okay, so, I had a plan with th mormor thing, but I took it too far… my mormor shipping has become quite the little probem, I’ll admit. It’s also like 1.6 K words, so…. I’m sorry. I’m also sorry it’s so late. -CE

Last time on Paparazzi…
I’m going to have so much fun with you, pet.” He whispered heavily into your ear while the other jabbed you in the neck. The last thing you could remember was everything turning black, and a lunatic giggling jumbled up with the words, “So… much… fun.”

The drugs wore off rather slowly, creating fog in your vision until it cleared enough for you to see the dull, throbbing grey of the room. There was movement in the dark, just enough to alert you that you weren’t alone. 

“Well, would you look who decided to join us? You’re little fan!” A voice sang- the same voice that had taunted her earlier, belonging to an utter lunatic. Your breath caught slightly when you heard a deep chuckle. His buddy was there, and he had to be just as insane, if not more, to do what he did to those women. You knew that… you just hoped you weren’t the next victim.

“Well, well, well. The little reporter who managed to do what Scotland Yard couldn’t- I’m honored!” The tall blonde chimed sarcastically, messing with a gun on a smooth silvery table. Moriarty’s fingers drummed along your jaw, but you refused to react. You had to do everything Sherlock told you: stay calm, and find a way out. Among other things, but who could remember those?

“It wasn’t difficult, you practically left a trail.” You remarked blandly. As his blue eyes fell to navy, you wished you had the skill of just biting your tongue. 

“What did you say?” Moriarty seemed rather intrigued by your sass, but continued to to type away at his phone, leaning haphazardly on a metal table. The other- Sebastian -just seemed pissed.

Keep reading

I can’t see you...

Author: Dalila
Ship: Sherlock x Reader
Word count: 2.801
Request: “I feel like 65. That isn’t even the problem, why would you think any of this was a good idea?” 66. Probably because I’m a dangerous sociopath with a long history of violence. I don’t understand how you keep forgetting that.” go together almost perfectly for Sherlock haha” 
Warnings: torture, blood loss

      At first, you weren’t able to hear anything but the pounding in your own head. Your body was numb and you couldn’t tell where on Earth were you. All you knew was that your whole body was aching and your hands were tied. Tied with something hard and cold… were those chains?

      “You woke up just in time, John. I could use a suggestion.” You heard someone over the painful pounding. You wanted to say something, but the only thing that came out of your mouth was a miserable moan. “John, please tell me it’s you…” Sherlock’s voice got louder in your ears as your consciousness returned. 

      “I’m afraid I have to disappoint you…” you whispered, unable to utter anything more than that. The whole situation was horrifying, but you tried to understand what exactly was happening. You were sitting on a cold, wet stone floor with your hands chained to the wall. Your lips were swollen and you could swear there were lots of bruises all over your body. Each one of them hurt like hell

      “(Y/N)?” As you tried to straighten up you felt sharp pain going down your spine. There were no memories of whatever had happened to you, but you had to lie there unconscious for a while. Suddenly you heard the sound of chains moving. Sherlock must have been squirming on the floor, but it was too dark for you to see that.

      “No, it’s… it’s all wrong. You weren’t supposed to be a part of this.” His voice turned somewhat uneasy, you could hear how deeply he was breathing.

      If only you hadn’t been in so much pain, you’d laugh at his words. The two of you had known each other for almost your entire life. You were there ever since his family moved to your neighbourhood, keeping your eyes gazed at the strange boy living next door. The one other children called a freak. 

      All you could see of him was someone, who couldn’t be understood. Someone different. You weren’t close, but throughout the years you witnessed every single change that’d made him who he was that day. Always too afraid to approach him and pull him out of his solitude. 

      It wasn’t until he became the famous Sherlock Holmes that you decided to pay him a visit. You had a case for him, one he didn’t find that interesting. But he accepted it anyway. As he told you, it was for the sake of old familiarity. Ever since then, you were pretty good acquaintances with John Watson, Mrs. Hudson and every other member of their small community. You wanted to take your chance to stay close to this strange boy you’ve known for so long without knowing him. But this situation, this mess you found yourself in – was the inevitable consequence.

      “And… what exactly am I a part of?” you asked weakly, your eyelids becoming heavy once more. You were drained, with dry lips and head still spinning. Probably you didn’t have long before losing your consciousness again.

      “A little conflict with the leader of London’s most known Mafia.” He admitted, sighing deeply. You couldn’t see how he closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall. This wasn’t supposed to be like this, not like this. Not with you chained in the same cell with him.

      “Little conflict?” you scoffed, pulling on your chains so the sound would reach his ears. “Is this what you’re calling little? What the hell have you done, Sherlock?” even you could hear how your voice wavered because of tears. 

      “I tried to get close to the leader of the Mafia through his only daughter. Human error, people never care about important information when people they care about are concerned. Enough pressure guaranteed…”

      “Please tell me you didn’t seduce this poor girl…”

      “I didn’t want to go through such extreme. But otherwise I wouldn’t collect the documents I needed. However, maybe I could have gone without telling her I’d never feel anything for someone as naïve and stupid as her.” His voice was calm, like always. Just like when you were kids…

      “Sherlock!” You heard him being called a freak almost a thousand times. Each time, trying to defend him, telling yourself it’s not true. You stood up for him, often trying to convince his bullies to stop. And yet… maybe they were right.

      “I’m sorry, you weren’t supposed to be a part of this. I never thought they’d take you…”

      “That isn’t even the problem, Sherlock!” you yelled at him, knowing the tears were flowing down your face. You were wrong, all your life you were wrong about him. “Why would you think any of this was a good idea?”

      You heard him sigh deeply. “Probably… because I’m a dangerous sociopath with a long history of violence.” Your body was shaken with sob, the fear and the resignation taking over you. How could this happen to you? You were scared for your life. Dangers were never a part of it. The worst fear you’d even endured was of not finding the right person to be there for you. This amount of stress was just too much to handle… 

      “I don’t understand how you keep forgetting that.” his voice was almost sad. What you didn’t know was that Sherlock was shaken to the core at the thought of you being captured because of him. Since the beginning, he’d known they would come after him. It was something that was supposed to happen. “I know you always had the false picture of me in your head. So desperate in your attempts to deny the truth. You wanted to believe I was someone better.” Even when he heard someone bring another person to his cell, he thought the only person they could get to was John. But John would handle it well, having been the soldier. You on the other hand…

      You were the civil in the middle of a war.

      “Wakey, wakey!” another voice broke your conversation. Suddenly you got blinded from the flashlight pointed right into your eyes. Only now Sherlock could take a look on your bruised face and swollen lips. There was also blood that already thickened. 

      Sherlock recognized the man who just walked in. It was the most sadistic member of Binenti’s mafia. And now this man was holding your face in his scarred hands. “Fair face. Too bad, soon it won’t be this pretty.”

      “Leave her, she had nothing to do with this!” Sherlock squirmed in his place, pulling the chains. But he was helpless, the chains keeping him in distance from the man. Nikolai Raskow, Russian assassin now he remembered. Nikolai’s face wasn’t visible, the flashlight only showing your face. But that was all Nikolai needed. 

      “Nothing? I remember she was the one you were texting when we got you. Must be important to you. No surprise though,  I admit – she’s gorgeous.” With those words, the man punched you in the face. Hard. At first you felt numb, pain came later. Along with blood that gathered in your mouth. “If she stays this pretty I might even keep her to myself.”

      “I said let her go!” Sherlock was furious, you could notice it without seeing his face. Sound of chains being pulled filled the cell. He couldn’t let you get hurt because of him. You should have never been involved in this.

      “No, Holmes. You treated our little princess like shit, now we’re gonna make sure you know how it feels like when someone plays with your feelings.” Nikolai reached to his pocket, but before he was able to pull out anything, your body started shaking. Then you began laughing. In an unhealthy manner that scared Sherlock.

      “Are you serious?” your voice was still shaking due to the tears and the pain, but madness was the one thing which definitely stood up. “Of all people you could kidnap you chose me? This man doesn’t give a damn about me, can’t you see that? You could as well cut me in pieces in front of him and he wouldn’t care…” another wave of tears arrived and you threw your head back. There was a fresh cut on your cheek, where Nikolai hit you. Your eyes were bloodshot from crying, face pale like death itself. 

      “Great idea, I think I’ll check if it’s true.” Something reflected the light of flashlight straight into Sherlock’s eyes. A razor, very sharp. “What do you say, Holmes?”

      “Let her go, I’ll return all the documents but leave her out of this!” Sherlock screamed, watching the razor helplessly.

      Nikolai only laughed, grabbing your hair and pulling it roughly so your throat would be exposed. And Sherlock was unable to prevent him from putting the sharp razor right to your throat. “The documents? Who cares about them? Clearly not my boss.” Nikolai made a small cut on your throat, causing you to squirm in pain. It wasn’t enough to reach any important veins, but the thin line of blood started flowing down your neck. “He only wants you to suffer before you die. Beating you would be pointless. But having you witness someone you care about die and being unable to do anything about it…”

      It was becoming harder and harder to focus on your surroundings. You could barely feel the cut on your throat. You were drifting away, closing your eyes. The sounds around you going quieter and quieter…

      The only thing you could remember was how someone kicked the door to the cell open and aimed a gun at your torturer. Then, only the chains around your wrists kept you from falling to the ground.

      Coming back to being conscious was painful. Hospital lights blinded you at first, but after a moment you were able to take a look. You were lying in hospital bed, with a few letters lying on the table beside you.

      And someone sitting on the chair next to your bed.

      “It’s nice to see you again, John…” you said, smiling weakly at him. Muscles in your face hurt, which made your smile disappear quickly.

      “Don’t try moving, you still haven’t gathered back your strength.” John told you calmly, taking your hand in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze

      “How long have I been unconscious?” you asked, closing your eyes for a moment.

      “Almost a week. You were hurt… badly. At first we didn’t know if we were even able to save you. You were lucky.” You huffed at his words, turning your head from him and gazing at the window. The only thing you could see through it was blue sky with some clouds. But anything seemed better than looking into John’s eyes at that moment. “You know, Sherlock was there the entire time, waiting for you to wake up. It wasn’t easy, forcing him to eat, sleep or even wash.” John chuckled softly as he watched you.

      A single teat escaped your eyes, as you still weren’t facing him. “I don’t want to see him. I can’t…”

      “I know it’s hard for you, but Sherlock…”

      “I just can’t, okay?!” you snapped at John, your glazed eyes finally meeting his. You were breathing irregularly, trying to stop yourself from falling into uncontrolled sobbing. “You’re a perfect match for him, John. You love danger. But I can’t do this… I don’t have it in me. I’m ordinary and I won’t change it. I can’t see him now. Because if I did… I wouldn’t be able to stay away… and that’s what I have to do.” It was hard, talking but you needed to voice your thoughts. Make it impossible to escape. 

      “You have no idea how I felt about him all those years. Even when we were kids… I thought I belonged with him. But I was too afraid to talk to him. I was shy and I hated it. Then he moved away and I read about his death.. I couldn’t forgive myself.” You didn’t even try to stop other tears from coming. All you needed was to be able to talk, which was becoming harder with every word. “When he came back… I thought I was given a second chance. I couldn’t waste it… But he… He’s danger. No matter what, I won’t be able to keep up with him. I just can’t, I can’t…”

      John didn’t hesitate to sit on your bed and wrap his arms around you, swaying you in his arms. At that moment you didn’t mind – you needed it. The tenderness Sherlock Holmes could never offer you. “I thought… I thought I could change him… But he’s what he is and…” you his your face in the crook of John’s neck, your body trembling.

      “You did change me…”

      Sherlock’s voice made you pull away from John. He was standing in the doorway, his eyes fixed on you, a single tear falling down his cheek.

      Sherlock moved slightly, just to make room for him to leave. John gave you last squeeze before pulling away completely and leaving the hospital room, leaving you alone with Sherlock.

      “I know that you don’t want to talk with me right now. So just listen to what I have to say.” He told you, but you focused your gaze on the edge of the bed. “I never expected them to get a hold on you… I’m sorry for all that happened to you. I’m sorry for being the reason you got involved in this…” he cleared his throat and that was when you looked at him. Sherlock froze, as you stared at him with narrowed eyes. Full of hurt, of hate.

      “You’ve said what you had to.” despite the rage boiling in your veins, your voice was weak, sad. “Now get out…”

      You sat on the backseat of your cousin’s car, trying to find a comfortable position to stay in for the long ride. You were leaving London, going back to your family house. Doctors said that you should stay in the hospital for a few more days, but you insisted on leaving. You didn’t want more time, as it could make you change your mind. You couldn’t afford that. You left a few notes for the people you grew familiar with. To John, Mary, Molly, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade… none for Sherlock. You hated saying goodbyes.

      Scamming through your purse you tried to find the medicine you were supposed to take at this point of the day. Then you found a small envelope with your initials written on top of it. The handwriting sent chills down your spine. You couldn’t read it, you just couldn’t… but you had to.

      I will never find the right words to apologize to you for what had happened. All I’m capable of doing is explaining how we got to this point. If I had only known that day I was going to be kidnapped, I wouldn’t risk texting you. But I did, because I had to say my goodbye. I knew it could be my last chance to tell you.
       You did change me. Ever since the moment I first saw you look at me. You were the only person who didn’t see a freak. You stood for me, though you didn’t have to. You saw me as someone better, someone better than I had been. Throughout my entire life, it was your gaze that pushed me forward. Because of your faith in me, I knew I had to try to be that better person. Not that I accomplished anything close to that…
       I never knew the proper way to thank you for that. Then you came to London and brought all the memories back. I knew you were never the type to handle stressful situations easily, I knew I couldn’t get you involved in whatever I was doing. But at the same time I had no idea of how to let you go.
       This letter is my closure. We’ll probably never see each other again. And it is good, because never again I will let you be affected by my work. You deserve better than this.


      This week you cried so many tears, you couldn’t afford any more at this point. All you felt was this knit forming in your stomach, making it hard to breathe properly. You couldn’t understand it and you probably never would. You needed to distract yourself, turn your gaze away. You looked through the window of the car, only to see Sherlock Holmes standing on the other side of the street.

      None of you even tried to say or do anything. You only watched each other as the car’s engine started. You were leaving London for good and Sherlock’s gaze followed you, until your cousin’s car was out of sight. It was for the best…

      Which didn’t make it any easier to witness you go…