only consulting detective

It is the 29th of January, and I am eighty-nine years old, sitting in the garden of my Sussex cottage and watching the world’s only consulting detective play the violin. Her blonde hair is a mass of curls and the heels of her shoes are sinking into the grass as she sways and dances with the instrument. Sherlock has been dead for two years and missing him is an ache in my chest, except for those brief moment when I close my eyes and listen to Rose coax his instrument to life, and dream.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” comes the soft murmur as the music stops. “I’m going to have to go soon. Miranda said she might need me to look at this really interesting murder she’s got.”

I nod and smile and get to my feet and-

 I’m standing in a lab at Bart’s and the most unearthly man I have ever seen asks to borrow my mobile and I say yes, and I do not understand in that moment that I will never stop saying yes to this man.

Soft grass under my cheek and Rose is crying as she turns me

I am strapped into a bomb and I am telling him to run, and I do not know that I have just carved out his heart and taken it for my own.

The sun haloes her hair and tears fall on my face.

I am standing in front of a grave and asking for another miracle, not knowing that my miracle is making his way toward me as I stand there.

I try to tell her not to cry. I am not sure if I succeed.

I am standing in front of the man I love with tears on my face, and he draws me close and enfolds me in his boundless compassion.

She smiles at me and throws her phone to the ground and holds my hands in hers. The sky behind her is fading to grey, and it occurs to me to wonder if I am dying.

I am wordless and at the end of my rope, and Sherlock has mercy on me and kisses me and I know that I hold his heart in his hands and he, mine.

She’s speaking but I can’t hear her. There’s a sound like a train whistle, like a summons bell, and I can’t hear her.

I am on my knees and I have just asked Sherlock Holmes to marry me, and he falls to his knees with tears in his eyes and says yes yes yes like a prayer or a song or the only word he knows.

She strokes her hand across my brow and smiles at me again, and the whistle fades.

I wake up every morning for a thousand days and he’s there, sleep-rumpled and happy and smiling at me as though I’d hung the moon.

“I love you, Daddy,” she murmurs as her hand cups my cheek. “Thank you for staying so long, I love you but it’s time to go.”

I’m watching my daughter get married and my husband is at my side and we go home and cry tears of joy on each other’s skin and make slow love in front of the fire.

“Tell Sherlock I love him, and I’ll see you again someday,” my daughter says and kisses my forehead.

I’m standing at the foot of a hospital bed, and monitors are screaming and doctors are shouting but they needn’t bother, he’s already gone. Always rushing ahead, my beloved, leaving me to tag along behind him. Well, no matter, I’ll catch up.

I am adrift in whiteness but there, there is a tall shadow in the distance. A man, perhaps, running. He has his coat collar up so he looks cool, and he’s shouting ‘Come on, John!’ and I follow. I will always follow. My legs are young and strong as they haven’t been in forty years or more, and the head of the man in front of me is dark as the midnight sky, and I am young and he is young and we are young here, together. Forever.

Oh, God, yes,” I say, and I run.

Tags under the cut (hope they work)

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“Ahhh got it!” Sherlock jumped up from his chair and walked around the room tapping his fingers together.

“About time.” You laughed walking out of the kitchen. He gave you a funny look and turned around.

“He’s a scientist. How else would he have access to all those chemicals and, AND know how to use them? Ohhh I got you!  To think you almost had me fooled. Ooo, I have to tell John.” The world’s only consulting detective, grabbed his coat and made his way out the door.

“Sherlock—halt!” You yelled before walking over to him.

“Why are you leaving so quickly and with no goodbye?” You placed a hand on your hip and raised an eyebrow whilst waiting for an answer.

“I’ve had a breakthrough; I need to go get John.” He responded as he bounced around, ready to run, in the spot in front of you.

“Mr. Holmes,” You flipped his collar up like he prefers it, “All I ask of you is; to give me a kiss every time you leave, so I can have you with me in some sort of way in case something were to happen to you.” You ran your hands down his coat then let them fall to your side.

“I’m sorry.” He bent down to reach your lips then gave you a smile when he pulled away.

“Thank you– now go, the world needs saving Sherlock.” He spun around on his heel and began down the stairs. “Oh and Mycroft wants you to call him!”

“Tell him I’m busy!” He yelled from the bottom of the stairs. You let out a laugh and headed straight to your phone. With Sherlock’s newest break through, you knew he wouldn’t be home until later. You and Mary had gotten very close, so surely a girls night was in plan.

“Sure, I’ll be right over! Ooo, do you have my favorite biscuits?”

“Always.“ You answered laughing.

"Give me ten minutes.” Hanging up you noticed how you were suddenly craving tea, so you put the kettle on. As the water heated you cleaned up then waited for Mary to show up.

****

“Hello!” You heard a voice call from the front room. Walking out of the one you were in, you were met by Mary’s smile.

“Come in, come in! Have a seat. Would you like a cuppa?” You took her coat and bag and placed them on the rack.

“Yes, please. It’s colder than usual today. And to think our men will be running around London in this weather.” She said laughing.

“Ohh, I’m sure they can handle it.” You replied also laughing. You went to get her some tea with biscuits and were humming while doing so. You were thrown off when you turned around and saw Mary giving you a big smile.

“What? Do I have something on me?” You asked.

“No.” She answered shaking her head with a smile.

“Then what is it?”

“You’re glowing.” She smiled.

“Oh, we’ll thank you.” You laughed.

“No Y/N, you’re glowing.” She stuck her head out and looked at you.

“I’m not pregnant.” You denied her accusations.

“Y/N, I know a mother when I see one.” Mary smiled at you while you thought about everything that has seemed out of ordinary.  

“Oh my god.” You sat down looking around the room. “How do I tell Sherlock?”

*****
After Mary went home, you took a pregnancy test just to be sure and it was positive.

“This is for real.” You told yourself quietly.  Just a few minutes later Sherlock walked in so you went out to meet him.

“Hey.” You leaned on the door frame giving him a smile. “Did you solve the case?”

“Yes, as usual.” He smirked. He put his belongings down and looked at you again. Instantly he knew you were hiding something.

“Did something happen today?” He asked coming closer to you. You placed your hands on his face and gave him a kiss.

“Let’s sit down.” You followed right behind him and sat in the chair John would normally be in.

“So I’m just going to say it.”

“Mhmm.” His eyebrow lifted as curiosity set in.

“I’m pregnant…” You let out a deep breath. Sherlock didn’t move. He didn’t blink. For all you knew he wasn’t breathing. You sat there uncomfortable for the second time since meeting Sherlock. The first being when he told you your entire life story with just the way you smiled.

“Sherlock?” You put your head down to look in his eyes. “Are you alright? Do you want me to give you some space?”

“No.” He answered, shaking his head slowly.

“Ok, well I’m going to make some tea.” You got up and went to the kitchen. While you waited for the water, Sherlock came over and gave you a hug from behind.

“Oh– are you back, Mr. Sherlock Holmes?” You laughed turning around with his arms still around you.

“Think of all the cases he’ll be able to help me solve!” The detective looked around in thought, then to you.

“He’ll? You think it’s a boy?” You smirked.

“Well my mom did have two of them, it’s reasonable.”

“Oh lord, if he’s anything like you–”

“He’d be incredibly handsome, smart and love science.” Sherlock finished your sentence for you.

“Look out London.” You smiled giving out a slight laugh.

“There’s a new detective in town.” Sherlock grinned before bending down to kiss you.

These Wounds Won’t Seem To Heal// Sherlock Holmes

Originally posted by moriarlocked

Contradict my opinion if you please, but in all honesty, the best gifs from the show are the ones from The Lying Detective. There are so many different levels of the emotional spectrum in Benedict and Martin that it’s difficult not to use them. 

Requested by Anon: On the way to work one morning in the torrential downpour that is London, you happen to get into a rather bad car crash. It’s not enough to kill you, but it’s enough to make Sherlock go nuts. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - 

  “Hi, this is y/n. If I haven’t answered, I’m solving crimes with the worlds only Consulting Detective who also happens to be my husband. Leave a message!” 

Sherlock huffed and pressed his thumb against the pound key. “Y/n, you only left for work twenty minutes ago, and judging by the fact that you haven’t answered, I’d say you’re probably back seat driving the cabbie. You’re worrying me love, pick up the phone please.” 

You and Sherlock were newly weds, having been best friends since John moved into 221B several years before. You spent most of your time with the war doctor and the Detective, and before you’d realized it, you were falling in love with Sherlock Holmes. 

  “I-I don’t know what THIS is!” Sherlock yelled, startling you as he pounded on his heart. “Every time I look at you, my heart goes faster and my head begins to pound! I’m absolutely clueless to the stimulating response my body goes through when you enter a room-” 

  “You-” You swallowed the lump in your throat and stood on your tiptoes, your lips ghosting over Sherlocks as lightly as you possibly could. He easily sank into your embrace, his fingers tangling in your hair as you leaned backwards to get a better look at his eyes. “You bloody twit, you are in love with me.” 

  “Oh, Sherlock! Haven’t you looked down the street? There’s a car crash just another mile down the road!” Mrs Hudson chided, throwing open the window shams. The rain had let up enough to visibly see the street, and as Sherlock looked out the window, it only took him a minute to deduce that your cab was indeed one of the two that had wrecked. “Where-Where are you going?!” 

  “That’s my wives cab! She could be hurt! She could be-” Sherlock halted at the front door of the building, running his hands over his scruff as realization smacked him rather hard in the mouth. “She could be dead.” 

Mrs. Hudson snorted indignantly as she passed him his Belstaff. “Your wife is one of the most fiery women I’ve ever met in my life. Plus she was crazy enough to marry you. I can guarantee you she’s not dead-” 

But Sherlock was out the door before she could finish her sentence.

For me, just do it for me y/n. Don’t be dead.

***

John Watson had seen you come into the hospital when Mary was having her checkup, insisting that he know how you had obtained your injuries. Your most major problem was a broken leg from the impact of the door, but other then that you mainly had several bruises and lacerations. 

  “Has Sherlock shown up yet?” Mary questioned, leaning against her husbands arm as they sat in the waiting room. Both of them had demanded to be in your private room once they had reset your leg, but the doctors had only taken you into the OR twenty minutes before, and they were not finished yet. “And here he comes!”

John opened his mouth to respond but was met with a wave of security guards, all shouting commands at one another as they swarmed the nurses station. Had it not been for the dark black curls and scruff, he would have never known it was Sherlock demanding to see his wife. “I’m sorry sir, but patient records and information are confidential. I can’t disclose them to you.” 

  “Like you can’t! She’s my wife!” Sherlock growled, tilting his head as several of the nurses rallied behind the desk. “You slept with your boss to get you a reputation,” He moved his finger down the line and continued to point out the biggest flaws in the remaining nurses. “You do too much botox to try and please your husband, you’re far too concerned what the woman in radiology thinks, and you’re questioning your sexuality.. My God, please get a life!” 

The former war doctor muttered apologies to the nurses as he drug Sherlock towards Mary, whose face became sympathetic as she motioned for him to sit beside her. “Sherlock, we saw her when she came in here. She’s banged up, but she’ll be alright. The worst of it is that she has a broken leg.” 

Sherlock laughed in disbelief, pulling his phone from his pocket to show John the five text messages he’d sent you from the moment you walked out the door to the supposed time of the crash. 

I love you. - SH

We need something good for dinner. The head might have contaminated the frozen chicken breasts. - SH

You, my love, are secretly wearing the red lingerie underneath your dress aren’t you? Naughty girl. -SH

Can you pick up milk on the way home? Used the rest to make coffee. - SH

P.S. There’s now eyes in said coffee. - SH

  “I asked her, I asked her to bring home milk and in return, she gets into a bloody car wreck!” Sherlock exclaimed, his arms falling at his sides as Mary patted his thigh reassuringly. “How stupid is that?” 

  “Mr and Mrs. Watson, y/n has been moved into recovery.” All three heads shot up as the lead orthopedic surgeon stepped into sight and managed a wide smile. “The bone has been set successfully, so now we’ll cast her up when she’s awake and send her home. Is there someone we can call?” 

  “ME!” Sherlock deadpanned, waving his hands in front of the doctors face. “I tried to tell your nurses at the station that I’m her husband-” He lifted his gold wedding band to their line of sight and waved it back and forth out of annoyance and disregard. “But no one would believe me!” 

  “I believe you sir.” The doctor reassured, clasping Sherlock on the shoulder as he led him and the Watsons in the direction of your room. “Any man that’s so possessive over a woman is sure to be in love if not married to her.” 

Your eyes were just beginning to flutter open at the sound of voices, the morphine in your system numbing most of the pain from your injuries. “Hello?” You called out weakly. “S-Sherlock?” John squeezed his best friends shoulder and motioned for him to step into your room, giving an encouraging nod. 

  “Hello love. You nearly drove me nuts by not answering your stupid phone.” He pulled up the chair beside your bed and took your bruised hand in his own, frowning as he ran his fingers over your knuckles. “I thought you were dead.” 

  “A car crash ending me? That’s the best you can do?” You deadpanned. Your gaze softened as you realized that he was indeed telling the truth- hence why his eyes were glassy and his breathing was eradicated; nearly on the verge of a hysterical breakdown. “Sherlock, I promise I’m fine. Just a broken leg.” You patted the open space beside you and he immediately crawled into it, careful not to dislodge any of your IV’s as his arms wrapped around your thin frame, your head now tucked beneath his chin. “I was backseating the cabbie. He was a terrible driver.” 

He chuckled and buried his face in your hair, inhaling the faint scent of vanilla. “I’m not surprised. You tend to do that to all of them.” A shiver ran down your spine as his fingers wrapped around the ties on your hospital gown, ghosting over the flesh of your back. “They took your lingerie off I bought you for our wedding night. I’m quite offended.” 

  “Yes, because what male doctor throws away scarlet red hot lingerie?” You replied sarcastically. “Check with the personal items. My phone should be in there too.” Mary and John stepped into the room just in time to witness Sherlock carry your face in his own hands ever so gently, his lips pressing against your forehead as he began his search for your personal belongings. 

He didn’t even get to leave the room. 

  “Uh, Sherlock?” Your tone became urgent as your pupils dilated, your focus now on the two people in your doorway. Judging by the way Sherlock regarded them as if he knew them, they weren’t strangers. Not to him anyway. “Who are the people in my doorway? I-I don’t know them. Can they leave?” 

  “Y/n, this is John Watson.’’ Sherlock said slowly, his expression one of confusion as he set his hand on Johns shoulder. “You met him years ago when he moved into the flat with me. You call him Hedgehog because let’s be honest, he looks like one. And he’s basically your brother. Mary? She’s his wife and she’s carrying their child. A little girl. You’ve been helping with the baby shower-” 

  “I don’t know you. Either of you. Can you please leave?” Your finger hovered over the call button on the side of the bed, which was sure to alert any nearby nurses or staff. “I can get you into some serious trouble if you don’t go! Leave!” 

That smile. The one that always said “I have faith in who you are.” 

The endless nights of being locked out of the flat when Sherlock was in his mind palace.

His war stories. 

Their wedding day. The first time Sherlock had really, genuinely expressed how he felt about you despite the fact you’d been dating for well over a year. 

Everything around you- the hospital room, the sheets on your bed, the rank smell of chloro septic in the air. All of it was just so bleak. The woman had started to cry as Sherlock motioned her and her husband from the room to speak to them about whatever was going on. 

You obviously cared about them enough to draw her to tears. But there was the problem. 

Why couldn’t you remember the ones you love?

TAG LIST @charlottemalfoy @foureyedsiopao
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My dearest friend Gio @alifetimeaheadtoprovethat who is the most caring and dear friend in the world and indulges in my madness made this thing for me cause I wanted something to praise @misocrickette for her wonderful fic Shutter Release, part of a series I hope to keep reading about. 

After John is invalided home from the war, he decides to change his career. While working as a forensic photographer, he meets Sherlock Holmes- The world’s only consulting detective.

Seriously, go read this perfect jewel of a fic and also LOOK AT WHAT MY FRIEND DID 

why “who you really are, it doesn’t matter” bothers me

The core of Sherlock is discovering the truth, so why would such a contradictory line be included as one of the last lines of the entire series? Who you really are DOES matter to Sherlock. It’s the reason he’s the world’s only Consulting Detective. He thrives on discovering the truth. Sherlock doesn’t rest, eat, or sleep until he finds the truth. He throws himself into dangerous situations for the truth. 

The first time we really see Sherlock cry is in TRF when he’s telling John he’s a fraud, that everything about him is fake. Sherlock cries because he has to tell a lie and then live in that lie for two years. (And yes, additionally because he will miss John. But a forced but sadly necessary lie is what causes all of this.)

Additionally, the reason Sherlock and John care about each other is because of who they are. The reason Sherlock is a detective is because who you really are matters. John and Sherlock save each other because of who they are. 

So why say something like this at the end of the last episode? Seems fishy to me.

A fathers love (Father!Moriarty x daughter!reader x Sherlocks son

A fathers love (Father!Moriarty x Daughter!reader x Sherlocks son

Request: Can I request an one-shot where reader is Moriarty’s daughter; she is dating a boy, who is a secret child of Sherlock and unknown women and they are both hiding it from parents but the secret is somehow revealed? :) I’d love to read it xoxo - Anon

Writer: Jupiter

Paring: Father!Moriarty x Daughter!reader x Sherlocks son

Warning: None, really. Some kissing, is that even a warning?

Summary: Reader has a hard time being the child of the world’s most dangerous criminal, since he is often away. Then she meets Hamish, the son of the world’s only consulting detective, and they end up falling for each other. Things go well, until Moriarty finds out…

Author’s note: Hello world of Tumblr! Finally, I got time to write a request… And now I really want to see an episode of Sherlock in which Sherlock has got a son and has to deal with him… I hope you guys like this. Also: New layout!


Being the daughter of the world’s most dangerous consultive criminal wasn’t an easy thing. Sure, it had its perks. For example, you never missed out on anything. If you needed something, whether it would be something simple as new shoes or something slightly more difficult like bracelet of the queen of Scotland, you only had to give a shout and one of your father’s little ants would come crawl towards you and hand you it. Besides that, you also had inherited your father’s clever mind and skilful way of thinking, which came in handy from time to time.

But at the other side, there were some downfalls…

A normal life wasn’t something you had ever know. Yes, you lived in a huge house other for which other people would murder someone for, and you got every physical object your heart ever desired for and you knew that was more than some other people would ever have, but you had soon realised money couldn’t buy anything. It couldn’t fill the empty space you felt in your heart, as your father told you he wouldn’t be home for a long time once again because had something to take care of in a place far, far away from you. Because yes, you might be the daughter of the feared James Moriarty himself, but that did not chance the fact that you were a teenager who needed her father at her side, especially since your mother had died when you were only a baby. And that was a part you missed, sometimes.

And then there was the fact that whenever you would tell people your name, your real name, they would crumble in fear. Because you, (Y/n) Moriarty, was someone who should be feared, or who people thought should be feared. And even though they sometimes tried to hide it, whether it were random people or the workers of your father, you would always see right through their facade. You didn’t need to have a sharp nose to smell their fear, their eyes already spoke the words their mouths didn’t say. And at those moments, you wished you could be normal. No, not normal. Anything except that. But sometimes, you wished there was sometimes who wouldn’t look at you like you were a lion that could consume anyone with her sharp teeth, but who would see you like you really were. Someone who would understand you, who would listen, when no one else was there.

And that was when you met him.


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»I’m Sherlock Holmes, the world’s only consulting detective.

I’m not going to go into detail about how I do what I do because chances are you wouldn’t understand. If you’ve got a problem that you want me to solve, then contact me. Interesting cases only please.«

Imagine:
FIRST KISS

Sherlock steps closer to you, his beautiful eyes search yours, then flick to your lips and back.
You flush, you’ve just admitted that you are madly in love with him. His cheeks are slightly red too.
“I-I”, he stammers.
Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest. He’s closer now and you can feel his warm breath on your face.
He puts his hands on your waist, making you gasp. Just like that, Sherlock pulls you to him, without saying anything further, and kisses you.
His warm, perfect cupid-bow lips pressed against yours. It is a soft, passionate kiss, and you kiss him back with the same passion.

The kiss fills you with warm goodness and is enough to tell you that the only consulting detective in the world is in love with you.

My Best Friend’s Sister - Request

Requested by anon:  can you do a one shot where the reader is sherlock sister and she fall in love with john, but she’s very shy so john makes the first move?

Summary: Sherlock’s sister comes to pay a visit. She impressed John with how different she is from her brothers, making him fall instantly for her. Sherlock notices and encourages him to ask her out.

Pairing: John x reader

Word count: 1,651

Warnings: None.

A/N: As a Sherlock girl, this was an interesting thing to do. I’m not sure if I got John correctly, but since I liked the final result, I hope that you do to.

Enjoy!

Originally posted by notmydate

To be a Holmes wasn’t particularly  an honour, especially when one of your brothers was the only consultant detective in the world and the other had a major spot at the British government. But family is family.

“A sister?” John spoke. His voice resonated from the other side of the door, reaching her ears in a morphed sound.

“Yes, my sister. She’s at the other side of the door and you’re making a drama instead of letting her in.” Of course, Sherlock obviously knew she had been standing there for the past ten minutes, listening to John’s tantrum.

“All I’m saying is that you should’ve warned me first.” John hissed in a lower volume. (Y/N) might have not been Sherlock or Mycroft, but she did have a great ear. “I’ve got enough with you and your brother.”

“Just open the door.” Sherlock groaned. (Y/N) figured he would be laid down on the sofa or staring out at the window preparing himself to receive her.

John opened the door, and the view in front of him took his breath away. She wasn’t as he had imagined her in those short ten minutes he had since Sherlock confided to have a sister. She wasn’t as tall as Sherlock, and she didn’t have the usual “smelling crap” face but rather a shy, wide-eyes look that resembled to a scared mouse. “Hi.” John breathed out a smile.

“Hi, sorry to come like this… I guess I should’ve known my brother would tell you last minute.” She spoke rapidly.

“No problem, I’m getting used to unexpected Holmeses… ness…” John stuttered and cleared his throat. “Sorry, come in.”

“Thanks.” As soon as she stepped into the messy apartment, Sherlock turned around dramatically from his spot at the window – as she had figured out already – to look at her, wearing a big smile and extending his arms to her.

“(Y/N/N)!” He cheered as he walked over to her, “My dear, less intelligent, sister.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, “How are you?”

“Fine.” She simply replied, “Mom and dad say hi, she wants me to give you some cookies she made but I know you don’t like them so just text her saying they taste nice and were done.”

“Impressive.” John mouthed at Sherlock from behind her back.

“Work is fine, I’ve travelled a lot. I met a lady in Rumania that claimed to have met you, don’t ask her name, she thinks you’re the biggest arsehole she’s ever met.” (Y/N) continued, she had the Holme’s ability of fast-talking everything. “Mycroft and I had breakfast this morning so, for now, tea will be fine. You know how I like it.”

“I missed you.” Sherlock said once she was done talking.

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Happy Birthday to the only consulting detective in the world! Happy birthday Mr Holmes.

Originally posted by longlivejohnlock


Originally posted by mycroftslittlebrother


Originally posted by sherlocked-to-holmes


Originally posted by shrlckholmes


Originally posted by slashiness


Originally posted by enerjax


Originally posted by soundsofmyuniverse


Originally posted by basinhounds


Originally posted by sir-mycroft

Molly Hooper is the representation of ordinary people (or why i like every ship but sherlolly and why TFP is boring)

Molly Hooper is the representation of ordinary people. When asked wich character they identify with i remember at least two of the cast answered “Molly” (one was BC).

She is, in this show, the one with an ordinary life, maybe Lestrade is too, but all the others are something more. Jonh, a soldier and doctor, addicted to danger, can break every bone of your body while name them. Sherlock, a super smart high functioning sociopath, the only consulting detective of the world. Mycroft is the government, the mind that keeps England functioning. Ms Hudson, not a civilian, do we need to say more? Irene, a super smart and sexy woman with dangerous activities. Moriarty, the spider on the web. Eurus, era defining genius, Mary, an assassin with a secret life.

But Molly, she has a medical job, she has dates and boyfriends, a house, she’s shy, always looking a little sad. She’s ordinary.

I think that’s why Sherlock and Molly doesn’t match at all. But that’s my Moriarty side, thinking ordinary people are boring in that universe, expecting Jonh and Sherlock to learn how to live Extraordinary lives filled with adventures, because it’s about the adventures, isn’t it? Can a super hero, crime fighting detective with tons of enemies have a ordinary gf? (you can think it’s possible and cool, but this is me saying i don’t find it possible or cool).

I would find Adlock or Jonhlock amazing because that would open possibilities of adventures, that would look like happy couples living extraordinary lifes, the world against them. But Sherlolly leads to Sherlock living an ordinary life or living a divided life between adventures and house. Sherlock not having anyone seens just perfect too, he can continue to flirt with everyone and everybody stays happy lol.

My Moriarty side when watching TFP just started asking: what’s the point of all this? Why are whe in a maze dealing with ordinary feelings? Why an era defining genius, that have no interests in life (her room only had a violin) would be interested in just knowing human feelings with no final goal than contact sherlock. Not a villain? That’s boring!

So, I’m not denying Sherlock loves Molly, he clearly sad that with meaning. I’m saying I did’t enjoyed it. I’m saying that when Mary turned out to be a good woman despite all the little teasing that she would be a villain, when Jonh got shot but not really, when Eurus despite killing a lot had no evil goal, when moriarty was alive but not really and his body just vanished from the face of the earth, when Sherlock was a sociopath but not really only to love Molly, that’s when I feel like Sherlock: Bored.

That’s it, no metas here or hoping for a lost special, that’s just pure and simple opinion. In all previous episodes we are presented to a new world in witch Sherlock can do everything to pursuit his goal of finding the truth and nothing else matters. In TFP we are obligated to see that super cool world with ordinary eyes and the magic that made everything possible disappear. So we are here in this maze to talk about feelings instead of cases ? we are here to suffer in this maze with no reason? There is no super danger to England?Was everything amazing that we saw till this point real ?