if john watson was really mad

John Is Not A Doctor Anymore

To me, one of the things that give S4 this weird feeling is the fact that John does not seem to be a doctor anymore. Looking back on the other series, we have always seen him taking care of people as a doctor, at work in his surgery, saving lives on cases with Sherlock. Sherlock has sung John’s praise in his best man speech. In every single series John has been two things - a doctor and a soldier. (Someone please write a meta about John being a soldier or not in S4). It is an essential part of his personality. So where did it go? 


John, the doctor and future dad, is driving the car, leaving Sherlock who has no idea of obstetrics and is neither very acquainted with female bodies to take care of Mary. The reasonable choice - and the one we have seen during setlock - would have been for Sherlock to drive the car and for John to assist Mary.             

Surely seeing your wife having been shot in the chest is a severe shock. But John, the doctor, does not even try to take measures like adding pressure on the wound, calling an ambulance, doing anything. I cannot tell if a shot like this would have been fatal in such a short time but John’s reaction seems strangely lacking. 


This is even worse. Granted, John is grieving and overwhelmed by Mary’s death, having become a single father of a little child. But once he has seen Sherlock’s condition, there is no excuse for his behaviour. The fact that he accuses Sherlock once again of faking his death shows that there are issues that still have not been solved. Molly tells John that Sherlock is dying. This is her professional opinion, the one John expressly wanted to hear. And what does he do? He lets Sherlock shoot up in the hospital loo. He kicks and beats a man who is half-dead and his best friend. He leaves him helpless in the same building with a man who might or might not be a killer but whose behaviour in the morgue has proved that he is at least despicable. He only goes to 221b (where he learns by chance that Sherlock is in deadly danger) because Mycroft sends a car for him. There is no universe where John Watson would do all this to Sherlock Holmes. 


Again, nothing. John does not even get the chance to act (or fail) as a doctor due to the overall weirdness of the episode. 


To me, the fact that John Watson MD seems to have disappeared contributes to the feeling of irreality and him being OOC. So when did it start? 

Let’s have a look at TAB. If we assume - as a surface reading of TAB and S4 wants to make us believe - that the last plane scene is real, we have John doing nothing about the fact that Sherlock just OD’d or that he has been using during his imprisonment. 

And if we go back even further - to HLV - we see that the last time John has acted liked a responsible doctor was when he attended to Sherlock in Magnussen’s office, called the ambulance, and cared for Sherlock in the ambulance. After that, we never again see John as a doctor. During the domestic in 221b he is completely focussed on Mary, realising the seriousness of Sherlock’s condition only when his friend collapses. 

To me, this has always been a turning point - John Watson not caring for Sherlock Holmes and staying with the woman who shot his friend. And it also seems to be the moment he stopped really being a doctor. 

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My ships...

The most important ones, at least.

Stormpilot - Poe Dameron/Finn

Originally posted by poesexual-finn

Snarry - Harry Potter/Severus Snape

I ship them  during or after the war. Not before, while Harry’s still in school. And usually not before Harry is at least 20 years old. NEVER before he’s at least 18 years old.

Also… Snape is not that old. He’s just 38 years old when the war is over (Let’s just assume he survives… please.).

Originally posted by gifsme

I also like Drarry - Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy

Originally posted by onebigfandomfamily

Deamus - Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas

Originally posted by snapesbooty

Johnlock - Sherlock Holmes/John Watson

Originally posted by thefaultinourfeels11


Originally posted by slashiness

Destiel - Dean Winchester/Castiel

Originally posted by literarycasualty

Denny - Dean Winchester/Benny Lafitte

Originally posted by dustydreamsanddirtyscars

Bagginshield - Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield

Originally posted by rvndom-multifvndom

Sterek - Mieczyslaw “Stiles” Stilinski/Derek Hale

Originally posted by redhales

Hannigram a.k.a. Murder Husbands - Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter

I know it’s not really a healthy relationship (ok… understatement) but I can’t escape the chemistry of Mads Mikkelsen and Hugh Dancy…

Originally posted by stupidape

Originally posted by tartufibianchi

Hartwin - Gary “Eggsy” Unwin/Harry Hart

I know. The age difference again. But I think it would work.

Originally posted by bllamysucks

Jakweenie / Jaqueenie - Jacob/Queenie

Originally posted by hardyness

Basically all the ships from Sense8…


Originally posted by thestanakatic


These two remind me of my husband and me. XD

Originally posted by destiel-is-cockles-fault

I don’t want to spoiler a friend of mine so I’ll keep it to these two for Sense8. But I love all of them. I love the characters so much.

Originally posted by myfuckingfavoritegifs

I think that’s it… for now.  :)

Originally posted by nerdycosplayaddict


And heeeeree’s the whole batch. I’m thinking of doing a few manga pages of a scene from the show (I know I really shouldn’t start another project lmao but oh well) so these studies should hopefully be good practice.

Also it’s so hard to find a Panin ref that’s actually smiling holy shit this guy is like in mad resting face 24/7

Guess which one I had the most fun with :P


It’s mad. I think he might be mad. He was certainly arrogant and really quite rude and he looks about 12 and he’s clearly a bit public school and, yes, I definitely think he might be mad, but he was also strangely likeable. He was charming. It really was all just a bit strange. So tomorrow, we’re off to look at a flat. Me and the madman.  M e  a n d  S h e r l o c k  H o l m e s .

another meme I will never finish | [2/10] relationships ♡ s h e r l o c k  h o l m e s  &  j o h n  w a t s o n

anonymous asked:

Dear Doctor Watson, Dear Mr Holmes My cat is missing. Now, this may sound trivial, but it's actually really weird... I came home last night, and every time I come home from work, my cat sits by the door waiting for me. But yesterday, she wasn't there. And it wasn't only her that was missing; there's no cat food, no litter box, no toys, nothing! It's like she never existed! I used to have some pictures of her on my computer, but they're also gone. You have to help me, I feel like I'm going mad!

Hello, Sherlock Holmes here. John wasn’t responding to your case so I’ve taken it upon myself to answer it for him. You’re welcome.

I have several possible solutions including but not limited to:

- Your cat is merely a figment of your imagination and a way that a repressed memory formed its place in your brain (have you lost a family member in recent years?)
- I have deduced that you are on a low wage bracket and therefore will have only had the means to adopt a cat rather than buy. The cat may have been a rare purebreed and therefore in demand and stolen from you. Could you tell me the name of the shelter - I know it’s in Islington but which one?
- I have been researching an experimental drug currently being tested named TD-12 that induces partial memory loss. Is there any way you could have been under the influence of such a drug?

I do, however, need more information from yourself in order to solve this case so if you could message me privately I will look into the matter further as soon as possible.

Re: Mary shooting Sherlock

Even if she didn’t kill him (*John voice* No, she did.), to have her shoot him is almost unnecessary. If they wanted to frame her as a victim and a genuinely good person, she could have been like “Shit, Sherlock, what are you doing here??” and then they have a whole hushed argument about keeping secrets from John, then because Sherlock would do anything for him, he agrees to keep it secret until Mary can sort it all out. She leaves the way she came, and they make up some bullshit about CAM being knocked out as well. (”Must have been a robbery or something who knows”)

And then the rest of the episode follows with John tagging along behind Sherlock still trying to do shit for “Lady Smallwood” but really Sherlock is going behind Mary’s back to try and help her and John, and in the end, John catches on because Sherlock is suddenly super motivated to solve this and he knows Sherlock is not letting him in on everything, and its all revealed dramatically, which is when she hands over the stick, apologizes for not being honest at first, John still gets mad at both of them for lying, but he ultimately forgives them because they were trying to give him what he wanted (a quiet domestic life) because they both love him.

But no, because that would mean a happy ending for the Watsons, and that Mary really is a good person, and since that’s not what they did, that’s not what she is.

Tbh like alot of the Sherlock fandom ruin the show for themselves with all the theory’s and some of us start to believe that the theory’s are cannon and then when it turns out it’s not we’re all disappointed and mad but like we really are our own worst enemies tbh and it just needs to stop lmao

Thanks dad (daughter!reader x Mycroft)

A/N: hopefully this doesn’t suck D:

Request: Could you please do a oneshot where the reader is mycroft’s daughter and he tries to comfort her after her and her boyfriend break up. Thanks :)

The front door was slammed shut with such force that it send the bang echoing through the whole house until it reached your father’s office in the second floor. It only got a frustrated sigh out of your father, which of course you couldn’t hear, so quiet it was, while you stumped up the stairs your backpack almost falling off of your shoulder. Mean while your father gathered the best fake smile he could over his lips. He knew you were as good at deductions as him and your uncle so it was a real struggle for him to fool you. Then again you were still so young that you couldn’t see through everything, but that didn’t include emotions or feelings.

To say the least, you were extraordinary for a Holmes. You could pin point emotions and even feel more than your father and his brother, and comparing to Sherlock it was quite much. You knew what expression was fake and what not and it was troublesome to Mycroft, since he couldn’t practically feel anything, or so you said and thought.

”How was your day, (Y/n)?” Your dad called from his office, the door was open which rarely happened and it was inviting you in for a chat, from that too you rarely declined, but today you were not on the mood to talk to anyone who had no capability on emotions.

You only groaned as loud as you could and stomped loudly to your room which was at the opposite end of the hallway from the office, repeating the loud sound of a door slamming shut.

Mycroft sighed louder this time, rolling his eyes at the ceiling and prayed for the god to save him. Your puberty was driving the old man mad and your rebellious behavior was tiring to him. He usually thought of sending you to your uncle to drive mad, but dismissed the idea soon enough. You were his responsibility, besides, Sherlock was even worse with kids and only one he really trusted would be John Watson or even Mrs Hudson who he had made some digging of, knowing she had been married to a drug dealer.

Your father went through all the possibilities in his head and wondered if he should just leave you be and go through what ever made you feel these negative feelings, but soon found himself shaking his head. He couldn’t be so careless. He knew well enough you would keep all this in until you decided you were over those feelings, then waiting for a next disagreement you shared, have a fight and then you would open up of your problems and most likely blame him for not being there for you. Then of course there was the dark side of that possibility that Mycroft hated more. You might not blame him, but he would.

Now your father, the so called ice man wasn’t one to give up. He had done many mistakes in his life before too, but that he hadn’t tried his best? Never had been accused of that. Mycroft would do all he could to keep the family he had started with you together, even if there were only you and him, it was enough for him and he intended to keep it that way. He knew how many daughter had started hating their fathers for not caring or paying enough attention to what their daughters felt and he wouldn’t be one of those. You could blame him for being nosy or overprotective even, but he would do all he could to keep you close.

Mycroft took a deep breath before he headed to your door. He stood there, not sure what kind of expression to put on his face, real or fake, so he decided to be neutral. He knocked on the door gently and called for you, ”(Y/n), may I come in?” He waited for your answer, but as he received none he took the matters to himself and turned the knob. He slowly, agonizingly slowly he could, pushed the door open just to make sure that if you were in middle of something you could stop him at any second. ”I’m coming in now.” He warned. The sound that followed was something he couldn’t describe the feeling it send through him. He heard you sob.

A breath got caught in his throat and he froze for a short second before pushing the door open, to see you on your bed, head buried in a pillow and back facing him. He looked at your shaking form, worry taking over him and he hesitated should he come in or leave you alone. He had come this far already, he wouldn’t chicken out now.

”(Y/n)?” Was all he could make out as he reached the side of your bed, taking a stand right next to it. His eyes wandered about, taking in all his surrounding like for example your backpack that he had bought for you, a very expensive one you had picked up by yourself and unwilling to take anything else thrown at the side of your room as it was trash. He frowned knowingly something was wrong.

You mumbled something through your pillow, something that your father couldn’t make out and by the weight on your mattress shifting you realized he had taken a seat next to you on your bed. You heard him say, ”Speak up, (Y/n), you know what I think of mumbling.” And you lifted your head from the pillow, tears on your cheeks and face red, eyes closed you shouted over your shoulder, ”He dumbed me!”

Mycroft was more than slightly taken aback by the knowledge. He winced on the bed and withdrew the hand he was about to lay comfortingly on your back. So you had been dating someone? It wasn’t that much of a surprise to him, though. He had always kept an eye on you, but you hadn’t that much spent time with anyone specific to make his alarms go off. He knew you had been lingering around this one boy more than he liked, but it still took him off guard for you to confess.

”He said that why would he waste his time on someone who has no feelings?” You cried out angrily. It was clear you were unintentionally blaming your family and DNA for being incapable of showing emotions in a normal way as others did.

”What happened, darling?” Mycroft asked softly. His hand had found it’s way on your back and rubbed the fabric of your clothes soothingly while he waited for you to answer. You could feel your body loosen the shake and relax in the touch of your fathers and after minutes of struggling you sat up and turned to your father, the pillow clutched in your arms.

”He wanted me to tell him how I feel about him.” you said with a weak voice, your eyes on the pillow you hugged. You sniffed. ”And I told him that he was nice…” With that said you broke down in tears. Mycroft didn’t push you with what had happened from there on. He brought you close to hug you while you cried and waited for you to calm down eventually.

”I hate to be who I am…” You cried out and buried your face to your father’s shoulder. Your sentence hit your father’s almost nonexistent heart. Yes, being a Holmes was much of a curse than a blessing, but learning to love yourself and your quirks was the key to that, and if one boy would be to harm all the progress you had made then he could just leave from your life.

”(Y/n), I understand that it is hard to be, what we are, as unnatural as it sounds, but you can’t start hating on yourself.” Mycroft pulled you away from him. ”I may not know much about relationships, but I know enough that if someone waits for you to change, it isn’t meant to be.” He searched for your eye contact which he earned not too long after his statement. ”And to be able to live you don’t need a partner. You can do it on your own, (Y/n). I know you can.” You nodded your head. This was calming from your father to say something like this. You did know that you couldn’t live the life your father had, only his daughter by his side, but he was right on some levels. You didn’t need someone who questioned you from the very core, your whole being. You didn’t need one now, that didn’t mean you wouldn’t find one some day. Besides your uncle was living with his best friend right now and had proved that friends were the ones that mattered the most.

”Thanks, dad.” You smiled. You brought the ice man back to a tight hug to which he answered more than willingly, smiling even when he had managed to calm you down.

anonymous asked:

If pretty much everything in TLD can be taken as John's interpretation/memory/guilt about past events (Sherlock on drugs=HLV, attacking Sherlock=TEH etc) then Mrs Hudson telling John "if Sherlock Holmes dies you will not have me" is telling us that the reason (or at least one of the main reasons) that John broke off contact with Mrs Hudson after TRF is that he knew how much she loved and was protective of Sherlock, and he thought that she blamed him for Sherlock's suicide.

Hey wow Nonny, ouch. But yes, most likely true. I think John still blames himself for Sherlock’s suicide – and later him leaving John to grieve – and just doesn’t know where to direct the guilt and anger that was pointless for two years. The inner turmoil John must have felt since Sherlock’s return in TEH has been building for YEARS at this point – “So why did I grieve for two years? Boy that was a waste of my time? Does he even care how I feel? Does he know what that did to me? What was the point? Was it my fault? Did he leave because of me? Why did he leave without me then (I could have helped!)?  – and John, probably not really having talked about it in those years EVER, just let it stew and fester and finally the dam just breaks. John is mad at himself, not Sherlock. He has trust issues, put all his trust, faith and love into Sherlock, and Sherlock betrayed him. Top that all off with a Mary cupcake of manipulation, lying and emotional abuse and John is just DONE with everything. John is a troubled and tortured soul, and Sherlock is trying everything in his power to help him. 

“I think he might be mad. He was certainly arrogant and really quite rude and he looks about 12 and he’s clearly a bit public school and, yes, I definitely think he might be mad but he was also strangely likeable”

Happy anniversary my gay sons

Hello Detective Chapter 36

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

“You do?” The Major asked confused.

“I’m getting a little slow on faces but Mr. Holmes here isn’t someone I expected to show up in this place.” Dr. Frankland said. Shit, shit, he was going to give you away. You knew he recognized you all.

“Oh, well…” Sherlock began.

“Good to see you again, Mycroft.” Dr. Frankland said, which surprised all of you. “I had the honour of meeting Mr. Holmes and his assistant Miss Gregson at the WHO conference in… Brussels, was it?” Dr. Frankland said, shaking Sherlock’s hand.

“Vienna.” Sherlock said, playing along.

“Vienna, that’s it. This is Mr. Mycroft Holmes, Major. There’s obviously been a mistake.” Dr. Frankland said, why would he protect us?

“On your head be it, Dr. Frankland.” Barrymore said, still displeased.

“I’ll show them out, Corporal.” Frankland said, leading us reluctantly through the door.

“Thank you.” Sherlock said when you were out of the building.

“This is about Henry Knight, isn’t it? I thought so. I knew he wanted help, but I didn’t realize he was going to contact Sherlock Holmes!” Dr. Frankland said. Sherlock smiled briefly.

“Oh, don’t worry, I know who you really are. I’m never off your website. I thought you’d be wearing the hat though.” the doctor said again.

“That wasn’t my hat.” Sherlock said. Dr. Frankland turned to you.

“Touchy subject.” You smiled.

“I love the blog too, Dr. Watson.” Frankland said.

“Oh, cheers.” John said.

“The pink thing. And the one about the aluminium crutch. Didn’t expect to see you though Sergeant Gregson, is the Yard in on this one too?” Frankland asked.

“No, I’m on holiday.” You lied, but sometimes that was easier.

“You know Henry Knight?” Sherlock asked him.

“Well, I knew his dad better. He had all sorts of mad theories about this place. Still, he was a good friend.” Frankland said, he turned his head to see Major Barrymore staring at us suspiciously. “ Listen, I can’t really talk now. Here’s my cell number. If I can help with Henry, give me a call.”

“I never did ask, Dr. Frankland, what exactly is it that you do here?” Sherlock asked.

“Ah, Mr. Holmes, I would love to tell you, but then, of course, I’d have to kill you.” Dr. Frankland laughed.

“That would be tremendously ambitious of you. Tell me about Dr. Stapleton.” Sherlock said.

“I never speak ill of a colleague.” Frankland said.

“But you’d speak well of one, which you’re clearly unable to do.” You pointed out.

“I do seem to be, don’t I?” He said with a smile.

“I’ll be in touch.” Sherlock said, holding up his business card as he walked away, you all followed.

“So? What was all that about a rabbit?” You asked, Sherlock fixed his coat and put his collar up.

“Oh, please, can we not do this, this time? John asked when he saw what Sherlock was doing.

“Do what?” He asked, confused.

“You being all mysterious with your… cheekbones, and turning your coat collar up so you look cool.” John said as he got in the car. You couldn’t help but laugh. Sherlock gave you a look.

“Aww, don’t be mad.” You said, hugging him.

“I don’t do that.” Sherlock argued.

“Yeah, you do.” You laughed as you got in the back of the car.

“So the email from Kirsty. The missing luminous rabbit.” John began.

“Kirsty Stapleton, whose mother specialises in genetic manipulation.” Sherlock said.

“She made her daughter’s rabbit glow in the dark?” you asked.

“Probably a fluorescent gene. Removed and spliced into the specimen. Simple enough, these days. So we know that Dr. Stapleton performs secret genetic experiments on animals. Question is, has she been working on something deadlier than a rabbit?” Sherlock asked.

“To be fair that is quite a wide field.” John said.

You noticed that the car pulled up to a huge house. You figured it had to belong to Henry Knight, but Jesus this place was huge. You followed the boys to the front door where Sherlock rang the bell.

“Hi. Come in, come in.” Henry said, as he opened the door.

“This is beautiful.” You told Henry.

“Are you, um, rich?” John asked.

“Yeah.” Henry said.

“Right.” John said.

Henry led you into the kitchen where he gave you coffee. John looked at his watch and slipped you a few more pills.

“You’re a lifesaver Watson.” You smiled.

You sat down at the counter while Henry began to talk.

“There’s a couple of words, it’s what I keep seeing. Liberty and In. Just that.” Henry began as John wrote down the words in his notebook. Henry turned to put something back in the fridge.

“Mean anything to you?” John asked Sherlock.

“Liberty in death? Isn’t that the expression. The only true freedom.” Sherlock whispered.

“What now then?” Henry asked.

“Sherlock’s… got a plan?” John said.

“Yes.” Sherlock said after taking a sip of his drink.

“Right.” Henry said.

“We take you back out to the moor.” Sherlock began.

“Okay…” Henry sighed.

“And see if anything attacks you.” Sherlock finished.

“What?” You and John asked at the same time.

“That should bring things to a head.” Sherlock said.

“At night?” Henry asked, nervous. “You want me to go out there at night?”

“That’s your plan? Brilliant!” John laughed.

“Got any better ideas?” Sherlock asked,

“That’s not a plan.” John argued.

“If there is a monster out there, John, there’s only one thing to do. Find out where it lives.” Sherlock said.

You were tired and needed a nap but you wanted to be a part of the investigation and help. You were feeling a little better than you were this morning with all the medication John has been giving you, but you were nowhere near 100%.

As the sun set, Henry led you, Sherlock, and John to the moor and down to Dewer’s Hollow. You each had flashlights in hand. You stayed close to Sherlock, after a little while of walked you turned around and noticed John was no longer there. He must have seen something and followed it.

“Met a friend of yours.” Sherlock said, when you were almost there.

“What?” Henry asked.

“Dr. Frankland?” Sherlock said.

“Oh, right. Bob, yeah.” Henry said, absentmindedly.

“He seems pretty concerned about you.” Sherlock noticed.

“Oh, he’s a worrier, bless him. He’s been very kind to me since I came back.” Henry told you.

“He knew your father?” You asked.

“Yeah.” Henry answered.

“But he works at Baskerville. Didn’t your dad have a problem with that?” You asked him.

“Well, mates are mates, aren’t they? I mean, look at you two. You hate police Mr. Holmes yet you’re dating one.” Henry said.

“The rest of the police force are morons, I’ve just managed to find one that isn’t.” Sherlock said.

“Dewers Hollow.” Henry pointed once you had arrived.

I’m Here (Sherlock x reader) fluff

I wasn’t sure how this would end up like and to be honest I didn’t think I’d be into making this but once I started I kinda couldn’t stop and the story almost wrote itself! I loved making this which surprised me.

Based on this request: Maybe a Sherlock x reader just after TRF and Sherlock just came back to 221B to his girlfriend (who still lives there) and she cries when he’s back and he just holds her and hugs her and Kisses ! On ! Top ! Of ! Her ! Head ! and fluff so much fluff (Idec what you do with this but this was the first thing I could think of as a plot, feel free to even change the readers gender/make it neutral)

It had been two years. Not that you had been counting days going by, but you were constantly keeping in mind how long it had been since you last saw him. Your mind wouldn’t let go of the events that haunted you even if you tried to block all memories and feelings that dwelled inside of you. Waking up for the first months were hard. You barely slept and when you did you woke up by feeling suffocated, your heart ached and head dizzy. Day after day it became less of a struggle to shut down the panic that woke you up but the clock went on. It was like you were starring a bad drama movie where every day was shot with the day numbered on the right corner of the screen. The days how long he’d been gone.

You had moved out for the first three months, barely even calling Mrs. Hudson who was worried about you more than you wanted to admit to yourself. You assured her you would pay the rent but that you would also be back when you were ready. Then when you were Mrs. Hudson was very melancholic towards you. She was happy for you were back home but also worried you couldn’t take it to be around the house.

You had went through an internal fight would you want Mrs. Hudson to clear the remains of the old residents belongings from mostly the living room. It took you time, the time you put through your moving. You didn’t want to forget him, but you also didn’t want to be reminded how he was gone. Entirely. You decided to suggest Mrs. Hudson to put away all the paper work and some of his personal items such as the skull and so on, but not to get rid of anything. You would dig into all those files and old cases when you would be ready.

The day you moved in was a cloudy and dry day. The weather felt suffocating, signaling there would be rain coming in next few days and that it would last long. You were actually glad the sunny days were over but then again hated the possibility of needing to fortify inside for the rainy season. You didn’t look forward to shut yourself in the flat you feared to visit for so long.

When the cab pulled over, your gaze fell on the dark blue door. The golden numbers on the door and the knocker made your stomach turn. Even on the outside you could feel the effect of what the house had on you. You took a long breath and stepped out of the car. In time you were out Mrs. Hudson had slipped through the door and with a sad smile and wet eyes at the sight of you she came down the stairs and enveloped you to a warm hug.

You didn’t have much with you back then, most of your stuff had been left behind in Baker Street when you left and untouched. Only one bag with you. It had some clothes in there but that was mostly it since you already had a toothbrush and so on laying around the flat Mrs. Hudson rented.

Mrs. Hudson barely left your side that day, or the whole week to be exact. She was probably trying to minimize the possibility of you breaking down even though it did happen every time she wasn’t there. She of course insisted to do all the groceries for the first month you had moved back in and you were sure to show her your gratitude. You spent time with her. You didn’t much spent time in your part of the house, constantly visiting her apartment. You watched tv, drank tea, talked and just sat in silence. At times you felt like a burden. An old lady being your only company and every day following on her tail if she did anything. But Mrs. Hudson never complained. She did at times ask you to call or visit John Watson, also having occasional rage quits of how the man never called or visited her or the two of you. You, just like John, declined visiting him. You thought it to be too much for you.

When you were hanging in your flat, Mrs. Hudson now and then coming over to make you tea or cooking for you, you usually found yourself sitting on his chair. You could feel your heart crushing and it became hard to breathe at times. You also wondered to his bedroom, which was one of the places you had forbid Mrs. Hudson to never enter. It was regular for you to sit on his bed, only at the edge, trying to leave as little of your own sent in his room. Though you couldn’t keep it up long. You cried most of the time visiting the room and then waking up, curled up on his bed and hands tightly gripping the blanket. It became your safe heaven. A place you would enter when you felt bad or when you couldn’t sleep. There you could. Every time you went in and closed your eyes, your nostrils filled with the sent of his lulled you to sleep faster than even sleeping pills could. The first time Mrs. Hudson surprised you for sleeping in his bed she didn’t say anything. She only smiled sadly at your sleeping form and left the room as quietly as she had entered. She never questioned you when at mornings you came from his bedroom, sometimes even wearing his robe. You would eat breakfast together in silence.

Those two years had started to go faster when you had made peace with your mind. With the fact he was gone and you were moving on. You were living in the house where he used to be with you. But he wouldn’t be back. And you had become one with that fact. Or as much as you were able to.

Like every other morning you were making tea. Mrs. Hudson was out, probably in the store, you didn’t actually depend on her that much anymore which made you a little nonchalant of her absence. You were actually reminding every one of him, as you wore his long robes, your hair always a mess and barely leaving the flat. You also weren’t a clean person. Making as much of a mess as he used to, but it made the place look like it was supposed to look like.

You pulled the curtains aside in mornings, but when it was getting dark out you closed them. You never kept lights on the living room, leaving it dim or light by the daylight creeping in from the narrow windows. Now the room was under the light that shone from out side, it made the room look alive. It looked like someone lived there, but it didn’t look like he lived there. Not anymore. Not for a long time.

You stood next to his table which was even now filled with papers and you would be lying if you told anyone you knew exactly what was on those papers and notebooks that were spread on the wooden table. You had a cup of tea in your hands, your thumb caressing the porcelain surface of the cup, your mind slipping away to unimportant things.

You were struggling against closing the curtains. Mrs. Hudson always complained how dark it was around in the apartment and how you needed to go out and see the outside world. This was your compromise with her, keeping the blinds away but still refusing going out.

The door opened. You heard Mrs. Hudson start to get up the stairs in a rush. You closed your eyes in irritated manner, rolling your eyes under your lids. You sighed aloud and without turning you called for your landlady over your shoulder: ”No need to hurry, I’m not going anywhere as you know.”

The sound stopped. Mrs. Hudson had surely made her stop at the top of the stairs, under the door way and making no sound. Your patient already wearing thin you were about to snap at her when you heard a voice. A voice that called your name. The deep, man like voice, something that made you want to remember something. It was that sound that made your mind stop. It froze. You couldn’t compute what was going on, how you knew that voice. Something told you you weren’t supposed to remember. You turned.

It was going through a memory, a very alive looking memory. Like you were in future where you could dive into your memories like in Harry Potter. So alive looking.

A suffocated gasp left your lips. It echoed in slow motion in the air, your hands flying over your mouth, the tea cup falling on the floor and shattering, the tea splattering around and wetting the carpet. You didn’t need time to take in the sight in front of you, as his looks and appearance rushed into you like you hadn’t been through a day with out him. His almost raven like curly hair messy as always, slightly shorter than before, wearing his long coat, blue scarf and the collar of the coat covering his neck along side with the scarf. His skin was pale as ever, eyes incredibly clear and beautiful, open. He looked almost as shocked as you. He was breathing heavily, his lips apart and eyes taking in your form. He was about to say something, a smile trying to find it’s way on his lips, but that is when your sight became blurry. With a cry of ”It can’t be you.” your legs gave in and you were collapsing on the floor, on the pieces of glass but you fell on strong supportive hands. Your knees were bent, but didn’t hit the floor thanks to your savior. He took your whole form in his arms, holding you close to his chest while you cried.

”It’s not really you.” You sobbed in a heart breaking voice. You felt him shake, but you denied he was crying. He couldn’t be there. You had gone mad. You had lost yourself even if you had been doing so great lately. Maybe it was because of wearing his clothes and sleeping in his room you had started to hallucinate. You could hear him trying to convince you he was really there, answering to your suspicions and doubts of your well being.

”I’m here. It’s really me, (Y/n)” He muttered in your hair. You wrapped your hands around his waist and held onto him tight, never stopping from crying. Sherlock pulled you on the couch, his right hand in your hair and his lips on your hair line. He kept assuring you he was really there and kissed your temple now and then. You could hear from his voice he was as emotional as you were by now.

”Sherlock-” Your voice broke in the start of your sentence, Sherlock hushed you and pulled you even closer to him.

”It’s okay. I’m here.” It was all he said for the next twenty minutes. He held you close to his chest and kept kissing your scalp as you didn’t dare to face him. He never attempted on pushing you away or forcing you to look at him, but you knew he would need to see your face sooner rather than later and you wanted it too, but not sure your sanity could take it you kept your face hidden.

When your crying came to a stop, dry sobs and sniffles heard from you, you dared to move your face but only to face the wall. Your right ear was on top of Sherlock’s chest and you listened to his heart beating. You wanted to stay there for till the end. You could very well die there and be happy.

You felt Sherlock move slightly and because of a reflect you turned to face him, worried he’d leave. He had only moved his head down to look at you and now he fully saw you. Your face was red, eyes dry, but to him it was enough you were there. In his arms. Finally in his reach.

He kissed the top of your head repeatedly, kept his hold on you and let you lay on top of him for as long as you wanted and as long as he needed. He had missed you as much as you had missed him, he wouldn’t deny that. He didn’t want to loosen his hold on you, he needed you to be there for just a little longer. And that is where the two of you stayed. You lay on top of him until you fell asleep and the two of you slept there for an hour, holding each other very closely.


John: How’s case, Sherlock?
Sherlock: Something’s wrong with this client. He claims that he saw this secret station with illegal weapon on the North Pole accidentally, only because he visited his friend working nearby in penguins breeding. But it’s obvious that penguins don’t live in the Arctic. He didn’t visit any friend, he went there by himself. He’s either an agent or…
John: Can you repeat it?
Sherlock: Repeat what? I didn’t finish my mind.
John: How do you pronounce ‘penguin’, Sherlock?
Mycroft: Oh, no. It starts… *sighs*
Sherlock: What do you mean? You mean that I can’t say flightless bird’s name correctly? That’s everyone’s own buisses how they pronounce ‘PENG-WING’ word!
*John and Mycroft start to giggle*
Sherlock: Shut up, you two - - *starts to mumble something under breath*
Mycroft: *on side to John* Childhood trauma. Makes him mad every time.

I know Mark Gatiss and Steve Moffat say that Sherlock is not gay nor heterosexual, that he’s just not interested in sex, and that’s the reason he’ll never become a couple with John Watson...












∞ Scenes of Sherlock

29th January

A strange meeting

It’s mad. I think he might be mad. He was certainly arrogant and really quite rude and he looks about 12 and he’s clearly a bit public school and, yes, I definitely think he might be mad but he was also strangely likeable. He was charming. It really was all just a bit strange.

So tomorrow, we’re off to look at a flat. Me and the madman. Me and Sherlock Holmes.


It’s mad. I think he might be mad. He was certainly arrogant and really quite rude and he looks about 12 and he’s clearly a bit public school and, yes, I definitely think he might be mad but he was also strangely likeable. He was charming. It really was all just a bit strange.

So tomorrow, we’re off to look at a flat. Me and the madman. Me and Sherlock Holmes. - The Blog of Dr. John H. Watson, 29th January 2010

I just didn’t want to be alone (Sherlock)

Paring: Sherlock/Reader

Characters: John Watson, Nathaniel Cooper (AU character)

Language: English

Words: 2 619

Summary: Sherlock’s being the best man yet again but this time it’s the wedding of girl he truly loves. But will he be able to stop the wedding before it’s too late?

Everything was so quiet, that anyone could have become mad really easily. A sudden noise catches my attention. To be honest anything could at this moment. Normally I wouldn’t even think about getting up from my warn place on my sofa, but this time it’s different. It’s been so long since I laid my hands on a case, so just thought of that changing makes me all excited all over.

After just few seconds, I’m totally able to recognise what kind of noise this is. It’s not a doorbell which means, that the potential client must have my number or I’m getting a call directly from police which wouldn’t surprise me at all. They weren’t able to solve any case without my help. It’s nerve-wracking just to think how this city could look without me. London would be in serious danger if I didn’t step in, with the help from John of course, and save the day.

I haven’t expected to receive a call from John to be honest. He never calls me if it isn’t madly important. In fact he calls me only in matter of life. I answer immediately.

“John,” I say quickly, “what’s wrong?”

“Hello to you too, Sherlock,” he laughs. What? “Nothing’s wrong. Wait, should it be?”

“If nothing wrong, why are you calling me?” I’m confused.

“That’s what friends do, remember? They check on each other.”

“Yeah, whatever,” I sign. So there’s no new case? Amazing.

“So, how’s life been?” he asks. Gosh, that’s just the most boring question to begin with.

“Pretty boring, why are you asking?”

“Just because.”

“John Watson, do not dare to worry about me,” I say strictly, but John laughs anyway.

“Then I guess you won’t open the door for me, will you?” he asks and I roll my eyes. Typical John.

“Oh for god’s sake, John,” I mumble and reach the door, so I could let that idiot in. The door opens and I receive a small smile from my friend John, who’s still holding his phone directly by his ear like he’s planning on talking with me thought it still. But what shocks me massively is his sister (Y/N) staying by his side with huge smile on her face. “(Y/N)?”

“Sherlock, hi!” she greats me loudly and basically jumps around my neck to this very close hug. I hesitantly place my hand on her back and bring her closer to me. Even though I don’t want John to see, I smile.

(Y/N) was Johns and mine roommate for some time. It all happened one day, when John mentioned her to me for the first time. He never spoked about his other sister, so I never figured he had one. It was the day she came to Baker Street for the first time, when I even knew she existed. I could see this tension that was between us that created the moment we first spoked to each other. With her moving in, I couldn’t focus on my cases. She annoyed the crap out on me. And when John moved out the flat, everything started to get even harder.

We became friends after few months of knowing each other. I acknowledged her personality and she did mine. And when John wasn’t able to help me, she became me new partner. Surprisingly, everything started to get weird between us yet again, but this time it was because we spent too much time together.

“I have some news I have to tell you, Sherlock,” she interrupts the embrace between us and steps into my apartment. Oh god, it’s so empty here after she left.

(Y/N) and John sit on the couch and I decide to sit in my armchair. John’s still smiling, which is making me very nervous. I can sense that what’s about to came from (Y/N)’s mouth isn’t going to be nice.

“So?” I raise my eyebrows at her. “I assume John already knows the great news, so please, let me catch up.”

“I’m getting married.”

“What?” I feel my heart stop.

“Nate proposed to me and I said yes,” she says with a little smile, “so we’re getting married. And since you already were John’s best man, I hoped you would be mine as well.”

I can’t understand, why I feel like my word just stopped after what she said. For a seconds I even though that my heart was about to shatter into billion pieces. What kind of feeling was this? I’ve never felt this miserable in my entire life and the thing was I should be happy for her. She was one of my closes friends after all. Isn’t it horrible from me that her joy doesn’t apply on me as well?

“Sherlock?” I hear Johns voice.

“Yeah?” I look at him.

“You blanked for a minute, are you okay?” he ask worriedly.

“Um, yeah… sure,” I begin to stumble over words. “Excuse me for a minute,” I get up from my chair and without looking over at (Y/N) I run into my bedroom, closing the door behind me rapidly.

John walks in uninvited, but he doesn’t seem to care. I’m sitting on my bed trying to understand the mess in my head, but it’s like my mind palace doesn’t work. John gives me concern look as he sits next to me. We don’t speak for couple of seconds that seems to be long minutes of painful silence. Even though it was him, who came to me, I prepare myself to speak.

“How long have you known?” I ask calmly.

“Few day,” he answers and I look at him quite in shock that he’d known for so long without telling me. “I’d tell you, but (Y/N) wanted to do it herself.”

“Sounds like something she’d do,” I mumble.

“What’s the problem, Sherlock?” He asks.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand your question, John,” I replay confusedly.

“My sister just asked you if you want to be her best man and you ran away! Don’t tell me it’s nothing, because it’s clearly something.”

“I don’t understand this sudden feeling I have,” I say silently to John, so nobody else could possibly hear.

“Maybe you could describe it,” with that said I look at him. “How do you feel, Sherlock? Is it happiness?”

“Definitely not,” I answer so quickly that I shock myself. “It’s like this psychical pain that I’ve yet never felt before. It happens only with her though, John. Only with (Y/N).”

“Oh, Sherlock,” he smiles at me. “You’re in love with my sister.”

“No,” I shake my head, “I’m not.”

“How could you possibly know that you’re not indeed in love with her?” I hated when John was right and he was right at this very moment too. “I’m going to be completely honest with you here, Sherlock, okay? When I used to live with you and my sister, there was always this weird tension between the two of you. I never said anything of course, but I noticed the way you looked at her. During the time your looks at her became more intense.”

“Alright, so… how can I get rid of this feeling?”

“You can’t.”

“But I have to, John. I can’t afford to be in love with her. She’s getting married to Nate, remember? What kind of friend would this make me, if I kept this feeling toward her?”

“You really love her,” he points out and I stand up from my bed. “I won’t lie to you, Sherlock; I want the best for my little sister. I’ve always took care of her and that’s why I waited so long before I introduced you two. You can be really difficult sometimes.”

“What’s your point, Watson?”

“I’m saying that you should be her best man and attend her wedding, Sherlock. She wants you there.”

“Do you realize how painful it’s going to be for me to watch her leave me forever?”

“All I’m saying is that you should attend the wedding, Sherlock. I’m not saying that you should what her leave. Maybe you can do something to stop the wedding.”

“John,” I shake my head, “how could I do that to her? She obviously loves that stupid guy she’s about to marry.”

“Maybe, but you can’t deny that she also feels something toward you.”


Three months flew way too quickly and (Y/N) was already around the corner. I won’t lie to you, I thought so many times about ditching the ceremony. I didn’t want to go and see her in her beautiful wedding dress standing next to her fiancé ready to tie her life among his. But John was right about one thing. If I don’t at least try to express myself to her, I will regret not doing it.

“You look amazing,” I smile at (Y/N), who’s looking at herself in the mirror. Her clearly white dress is already on and there’s only few moment toward the ceremony.

“Sherlock,” she smiles back at me. I step toward her and meet her at the middle, because she went to me as well. I hug me tightly, enjoying every second of that hug.

“You’re shaking,” I point out, “nervous?”

“Kind of,” she nods. “It’s just that I feel that everyone will be staring at me. You know how much I hate to be in centre of attention.”

“You bet everyone will be staring at you, you look beautiful, (Y/N).”

“Is that a compliment, Sherlock?” she sounds surprised. “It’s the first compliment I’ve ever heard from you.”

“Well,” I scratch the back of my neck, “it’s your wedding day, isn’t it? Since I’m your best man, I should bring the best out of you. Get rid of this self-consciousness you’re feeling.”

“Thanks then,” she winks at me. “Hey, can I ask you something; friend to friend?”

“Yeah, sure,” I try my best not to sound hurt after her words. I most definitely didn’t want to be her friend and I was sure that after this wedding, I will never see her again. I wanted to leave our past behind and move on, because living like this wasn’t something I enjoyed. I’ve felt weak and I’ve couldn’t even think straight. “Something’s wrong, right?”

“Well, yeah. I don’t know how to say it, so I’m just going to say it, okay?” I nod. It’s not like I could prepare myself for what’s coming. “What do you think of Nate? Be honest, please.”

“I don’t know, (Y/N). I think that you look great together.”

“Everybody’s saying that, but I’m not so sure all of the sudden. Something telling me that I’m doing huge mistake by marring him today.”

“Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know if I still love him the way I used to.”

Seeing her so sad was horrible, but I can’t help but to be at least little bit happy because of what she said. It gave me hope and I needed hope. I smile at her and touch her shoulder. Few tears stream down her face and I catch them immediately.

“This isn’t really up to me, (Y/N), and I wish I could help you some way, but I can’t,” I say to her. And I also can’t say anything about my feelings towards her right now, because she wouldn’t handle it. I guess she will never know how I truly feel about her. “I just know you will do the right choice.”


I should have said how I feel to her when I had the chance. Now it was too late. (Y/N) was walking down the alley looking extremely beautiful and I wish I was waiting for her at the altar. It was Nate though and I knew that I’ve lost her forever.

“Sherlock,” John says my name and I look at him. We shouldn’t be talking right know, but the music’s too loud that no one will hear us. “Did you tell her?”



“I couldn’t ruin her day, John. Besides, I don’t deserve her. You’ve always look after her and her being with me; you would fail in keeping her save. She would never be safe, there’s always so much danger around me. This is better for her, John.”


“Ssh, the bride is coming,” I say with tears in my eyes.

Few first words I’m not really paying attention to. I’m only able to look at (Y/N) and wish I would act differently in that time we had been living together. I mean I had so much time to realize how I feel towards her. She was alone for a long time before Nate came in the picture.

“She just didn’t want to be alone,” John whispers towards me, “that’s why she’s marring Nate.”

“She told you?”


“Do you, Nathaniel Cooper take (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N) as your wife?


“Do you, (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N) take Nathaniel Cooper as your husband?”

I can sense that something’s not going right. (Y/N) doesn’t answer right away. Instead she looks behind her shoulder to the crowd of people. She looks exactly at me. Maybe this was the last chance I have. Maybe I should say something now, so she knew how I feel. To be honest I should’ve nodded to make her know she’s not doing stupid decision, but she was doing one. Nathaniel wasn’t the one for her. I know that now. Even she doesn’t want to be alone, she doesn’t have to marry to some random guy she doesn’t even love anymore. John touches my hand and I look at him for a second. He nods at me.

“I love you,” I whisper silently. (Y/N) doesn’t hear me, but her eyes widen as if she read from my lips and everything clipped for her.

“Miss (Y/L/N)?”

“Um, I-“ she gets stuck on her words. “I’m sorry; Nate, but I can’t marry you. I’m so sorry.”

I watch her run away. Everyone begins talking right the second she ran away. I don’t need John to tell me it’s my time to get the girl of my dreams. I get out of my seat and run through the alley to catch (Y/N). I find her sitting on the stairs of this chapel. I sit next to her. She places her head on my shoulder.

“I just didn’t want to be alone, Sherlock.”

“I know,” I whisper. She looks at me confusedly. “John told me.”

“Back in the chapel,” her voice shakes a bit, “why didn’t you stop me from going though that alley the moment we were alone?”

“Because I don’t deserve you, (Y/N) and I know you would never been happy with me. Thing is; I’m a selfish man that doesn’t deserve a girl like you. You’re the most caring and most loving person I’ve ever known. I just wanted you to be happy.”

“How could I really be happy, if I was doing the greatest mistake of my entire life? Marring the wrong man when in reality I love somebody else?”

“See? You will be happy again with that man, (Y/N), because I’m sure he’s not stupid enough to not see how amazing you are.”

“You don’t understand, do you?”


“I love you, Sherlock. It has always been you and being with Nate was just so I forgot about you. Because I’ve thought you would never love someone so ordinary like me.”

“(Y/N), you’re not ordinary and I do love you.”

With that I end the little space between us and finally kiss the girl I’ve never thought she would like me back.

“I know that now,” she smiles and I smile back at her with tears in my eyes. “And maybe at the next wedding I’ll attend you won’t be my best man, but the man I’m marring.”

The problem with The Lying detective

Many people say that in S4 they only like TLD. I don’t like The Lying detective at all. Because what is actually the plot? Mary telling Sherlock to almost kill himself just so John can be his rescuer. And John failing to do that. You know, for Sherlock Holmes stories it was always the most important part, Holmes and Watson together, always having each others backs, always defending each other. And in this episode John seems to care so little for Sherlock, that he would be willing to let him die. And why? Because Sherlock didn’t manage to protect the person who previously killed him? (Mary) Why he should protect her? Because John still kinda likes her… and John apparently cares more for the woman who killed his best friend than for the said best friend who will do absolutely selflessly anything for him. And then we are supposed to be moved by John in the end coming to rescue Sherlock only because “angel Mary” said that in a video that he accidentally saw. And that made him realize that Sherlock doesn’t deserve to die…. really? What did they do to this characters? Watson not giving a damn about what happens to Holmes? Because of his killer for hire wife, who he actually didn’t even like that much and wanted to cheat on… This is all total madness.

     I really want to talk about how Hannibal handled Molly and Will’s relationship and how it played into Will’s relationship with Hannibal so much better than Sherlock handled John and Mary and how that worked in regards to John and Sherlock’s relationship but like. I don’t even know where to start, there are so many things that could be said.

     One of the big things, I guess, is that ultimately both Molly and Mary were used as examples of Will and John (Will and Watson? Willson?) trying to ‘move on’ from the madness that Hannibal and Sherlock (Sheribal, pronounced like Sherbet somehow) brought into their lives. Both shows make a point to acknowledge that that’s a key component of those relationships for Willson, but like… Hannibal did it better. Somehow.

     Ngl, I’ve badly distracted myself with Sheribal and Willson and completely lost the entire point of this post.