sherlock is bored can you tell

The Eternal Problem: A Meditation on Mortality in Sherlock S4

When asked about S4 during the promotional lead-up, Moftiss repeatedly said this new series would be about one thing: consequences.  Now that we stand on the other side of S4, what do we think they meant?  It obviously wasn’t legal consequences for shooting Magnussen, or physical consequences of overdosing on drugs.   

In this meta, I argue that TAB and S4 are above all about the moral, metaphysical, and narrative consequences of Sherlock faking his death during the Reichenbach Fall—an act which continues to reverberate through the story two series later, both for the characters and, significantly, for the writers.

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Expectant - Request

Requested by anon:  could you do a Reader x Sherlock where she finds out she’s expecting and Sherlock has no idea how to react for awhile? Thank you :-)
Also, another anon requested for a fluffy one with Sherlock so…

Summary: (Y/N) is acting strange, and Sherlock notices. She ends up confessing the truth and… He struggles to find the words.

Pairing: Sherlock x reader

Warnings: Bit of angst (not really) because of Sherlock’s reaction. Also, fluffy.

Word count: 2,807

A/N: My Sherlock feels are rising like the fenix rises from the ashes, THANKS! This is fluffy and cheesy and I love it, hope you do too. Remember feedback is highly appreciated.

Enjoy!

Originally posted by xthismeanswar

London had never been quieter. Not a single criminal dared to show up in the past week – or at least not one Sherlock cared about.

With his fiddle in hand and a melody on his head, Sherlock played for hours and hours throughout the morning. His feet with move along the music as he followed his girlfriend around the flat, making sure to keep his eyes on her at every moment.

(Y/N) was tiding it up a little since neither Sherlock nor John would do it.

“You know you don’t have to do that.” Sherlock spoke as he waltzed his way closer to her.

“I know, I just… Need to kill time, I guess.” Sherlock tilted his head.

“Anxiety?” She shook her head.

“Maybe I’m just bored.” Sherlock smiled warmly at her.

“I knew I wasn’t the only one getting bored here.” He said.

“Bored? You?” (Y/N) let out a fake laugh, “As far as I can tell you’re having a blast with your instrument.”

Sherlock didn’t reply with words but rather changing the tune to a faster one.

“Show off.” She hissed jokingly and moved to his room, where she picked up the dirty clothes and dusted the furniture.

Sherlock couldn’t help but to notice something strange in her. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it because it was such a slight change in her – and a good kind of change – that deducing it would take him hours. And that’s why he was following her.

She was resplendent yet she looked tired. “Why are you tired?”

(Y/N) looked up at him; she had been dragged out of her thoughts. “Sorry?”

“Why are you tired?” Sherlock repeated, “Last night we did… We did sleep late but we always do.”

“Maybe it’s all this cleaning.” (Y/N) suggested.

“You’ve followed me on cases that could get anyone tired after five minutes without even flinching, it’s not the cleaning.” Sherlock observed. He stopped playing and stood still, following her every move.

“Maybe I’m getting old.” Sherlock lifted an eyebrow.

“Impossible.” He stated, “If you were getting old I would be too and I’m feeling great.”

“We are getting old.” She emphasized, “With each second that passes.”

Sherlock sighed heavily and continued to play. (Y/N) excused herself and left to the bathroom. It was the fifth time she went and it wasn’t even close to mid-day.

Sherlock stopped playing once again and walked back to the living room where John was sitting and reading a newspaper.

“There’s something off about her.” Sherlock whispered without even looking at his friend but rather keeping his ice blue eyes glued to the bathroom door.

Watson, who knew exactly what was going on, shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and changed the page. He had been pretending to read the whole morning, for he knew it would be impossible for him not to react.

“You’ve read this newspaper three times already.” Sherlock observed.

“I like to re-read… Make sure everything sticks to my mind.” John replied.

“Guess that’s a method that works for common minds.” John couldn’t help but to roll his eyes, “But honestly, John, can’t you see? There’s something off about her.”

“She’s your girlfriend, Sherlock, not mine.” John beamed.

“She’s your friend, and you’re a doctor.” John sighed and scratched the corner of his eyes.

“She’s not sick.”

“How can you tell?” John inquired, “Did you check her body temperature? Her blood pressure? Her…”

“She’s fine!” John assured. Sherlock, of course, didn’t buy it and waited patiently for her to get out.

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Do You Miss Me (at all) Sherlock x reader part 1

A/N: This took me forever to finish! For the love of god, I struggled with this hours and days! So, this will be two parted, and apologizes for not posting fanfics for awhile, I’ve been busy with other things (also tried to figure out how to continue the heartless, there will be a new chapter of it soon enough, hopefully) also this was supposed to be out at Friday, but I couldn’t get myself to finish this since this basically a dialogue done by shouting and fighting. But anyway, hope this is good in some sort of weird way.


Here’s a link for the next chapter http://all-fandoms-fiction.tumblr.com/post/157287362239/do-you-miss-me-at-all-2-sherlock-x-reader


You had been in a relationship with Sherlock for over four months now and not to get you wrong, you did love the high functioning sociopath even if it got rough. For example he barely told you he cared for you more than as a friend. It had taken him all his might to tell you that just that once when you started dating and you were as surprised as anyone would’ve been in that situation. To hear Sherlock Holmes, the detective incapable of understanding sentiment or compassion, say he loved you was enough to make you faint, but you didn’t. First you thought it had to be a trick, to test an experiment and one specific kind had slithered in your mind. He was probably testing how you felt about him, even having his own suspicions of you having feelings for him. Maybe he was waiting for your pupils to dilate, testing your pulse? Then he did something that nearly gave you a heart attack. He had kissed you. From there on you two had started dating, but it took some time from him to convince you he really liked you and it wasn’t for a case or a test.

It had been just once he had said he loved you, from that on everything had gone down hill. You knew he wasn’t into opening his heart, which you had become aware of that second he had opened it to you, but you couldn’t but wonder had he come to his senses of you and realized he had only fancied you for short amount of time and the feelings had died by now. At bad days he seemed he barely even acknowledged you were in the same room. He was snarky with his comments, nearly making eye contact and ignoring you at times. It wasn’t anything John hadn’t ever experienced with Sherlock but you couldn’t stop thinking that you would be even slightly privileged to be treated in better way than that.

Sherlock had been buried with work, now on his list at the top was a new case that hadn’t made any progress and it frustrated him. He was tense and easy to piss off. You were the same, but for other reasons. His acts had reflected on you, his now nasty personality and way of ignoring you made it impossible for you to stand him.

The two of you had just come back to Baker Street from a crime scene and you were fuming of rage. Once again you had been pushed aside and treated like you knew nothing. Even Lestrade, just like Sherlock always said, was capable of sensing the situation. Even the police inspector was able to make out Sherlock was doing a lousy job as a boyfriend. You couldn’t forget the wide eyes and the blank, puzzled stare he gave to you two when Sherlock pushed you, no, he literally pushed you more than once aside and kept telling you to keep quiet as your suggestions and deductions would just embarrass him, you and everyone around.

You stomped up the stairs to the flat, Sherlock following after you. You stayed close to the door leading back downstairs while Sherlock went to sink in his chair. He released a long heavy sigh and closed his eyes in disappointment. He muttered how useless the visit had been and how it had only cost his precious time on the case in hand. The crime scene you two just witnessed had, as he said, obviously nothing in common.

”Did you really have to do that?” You questioned after waiting enough, listening to Sherlock muttering and complaining about the case. Your hands were crossed over your chest and your right foot was tapping the floor in an impatient way. To this Sherlock answered with lowered brows and watched you in confusion. You huffed and looked away. ”Embarrass me in front of the whole Scotland Yard?” You corrected. Sherlock only rolled his eyes and went to correct you. ”There was nearly even half of the Scotland Yard present.” Sherlock shifted in his seat. ”I wouldn’t worry about them. They barely know anything so you being incorrect now and then wouldn’t make them any better than you.”

You could hang onto that statement, he had almost praised you just now and it was the best you had got from him for since he had been burdened with this particular case, but then again you didn’t need to settle for this. This wasn’t enough to wipe all the bad comments he’d made in the past though you weren’t even sure was there anything he could do, a one single act that would calm you.

”To you that was the entire Scotland Yard.” You pushed persistently. He had said it himself countless of times. The people in Scotland Yard that had ever worked with him were the only people that counted if you asked for his opinion.

”Well, yes, but obviously it wasn’t exactly the whole Scotland Yard.” Sherlock placed his fingers under his chin, resembling his mind palace position but he kept his eyes open and on you. He eyed you suspiciously, trying to deduce what you were going through in your head, but judging by his expression he had no idea what made you so pissed. ”Is something bothering you?”

To that you let out a sarcastic laugh. Had he really only got that out of you? He really was as magnificent and astonishing as John always said. Sarcastically saying of course. But this time he surprised you by how dumb he was.

”Are you really that blind?” You finally snapped. You humorously watched as Sherlock gave away how offended he was by your statement but without skipping a beat you continued. ”You embarrassed me in front of Scotland Yard! And that’s not all! You’ve treated me worse and worse the further we get down on this case. Hell, you even treat Anderson better than me!” And it was true. He had even praised Anderson today for stating something so obvious and simple that even a blind person would’ve seen it.

”I was being sarcastic.” Sherlock muttered seriously and looked down on the floor, clearly drifting away from the conversation and to his mind palace.

”Well, it wasn’t clear!” You yelled and threw your hands in the air. ”Everybody thought you really meant it. And don’t dare shut me off now!” You took three long steps and put your hands on either side of Sherlock’s armrests on his chair, your face inches away from his. ”Don’t treat me like this!”

”Treat you like what?” Sherlock shot up from his seat, you taking a fast step backwards to make more room between the two of you. He stared back at you coldly. His blue eyes were like frozen and he looked intimidating. Sherlock tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he questioned you.

”I told you already! You ignore me! Like I don’t exist at all! You always pretend like I’m not there. You put your work first and I feel like I don’t even exist on the list of your priorities! You also have pushed me around, literally, and you won’t let me even speak when we’re out!”

”Stating the obvious shouldn’t be reworded! You want me to let you embarrassed yourself? By pointing out what everyone is able to witness with their own eyes?”

”Oh, so now I’m embarrassing myself? Thank you for saving me, Sherlock, for keeping me quiet when I could’ve said something dumb!” The room was silent for a second, until you took a deep breath. ”Look, you keep me around but make it feel like I am the one clinging on you and following you like a lost puppy, and when I try to advance you, you only shoot me down. You won’t show me I matter!”

”I have told you how I feel about you, do you really need me to do it several times a day? Because you know I won’t be up to it. I am not a man who keeps showering you with all the pleasantries and praises-!”

”I know that and it’s not what I asked!” You snapped back. You were wondering was Mrs. Hudson listening to you two shouting. If she was she was probably worried. Worried what you’d do if this would go further on and how you would end up like. Mrs. Hudson knew what Sherlock was capable of when he was bored or even drugged, but when angered? And with you against him? You couldn’t answer to that either.

”Then what is it? I can’t quit my job and forget all the cases just because of you. Just because of love.” He pronounced the last word with disgust, as if the whole word was ridiculous to even be said.

”I’m not telling you to quit, I’m suggesting you to leave it be when you clearly can’t work it out, not now at least. You’ve run out of clues and there is nothing you can do to make the problem solved. You have to wait!”

”I can’t just wait until another one gets killed!” Sherlock spit out and glared down at you.

”Well, there’s nothing else you can do.” You told him matter of factly. ”Just talking about the case makes you a mess, Sherlock. You don’t eat, you don’t sleep, and how you treat people around you is horrible. Even if you have a problematic case in hand it doesn’t give you the privilege to act like a moron!”

”Oh so I am the one acting like a moron?” Sherlock looked down on you. ”You have done nothing to help me on this case, the reason I keep you around is only because I thought there would be use of you, but guess I was wrong with you. And here you are, waiting for me to sugar coat you with flatter and sweet talk. Like it wasn’t enough I told you once how I care about you.” He had struggled enough by telling you he loved you once, and what were the looks of it he wasn’t going to do it ever again and actually it made you want nothing more than him to never say anything to you.

”I knew what I was getting myself into when I started this relationship with you.  I know it’s hard for you to say how you feel, but I’m not asking you to tell me that. It’s just that you never show it! You never sit next to me, you never walk close to me, and you barely talk to me! If you could just treat me like a human being!” You didn’t let Sherlock answer, you paced around nervously, but not scared. You were infuriated. ”I really thought I wouldn’t be the only one to do things I don’t usually like to do. Like waking up at 3am in the morning to visit a crime scene, or running around London after a maniac without eating for a whole day! I still never complaint! But where I draw the line is when I am treated worse than even the people you can’t stand!”

”Enough with Anderson already!” Sherlock sighed and spin around.

”I’m not talking about Anderson! I am saying you don’t treat me like your girlfriend and even Lestrade saw what was going on today!” You felt bad at thinking about it again, your stomach dropped at the thought of it. ”The way you act towards me isn’t normal, Sherlock!”

”So I’m supposed to be all around you when we’re on a case? Oh, wake up, (Y/n)! I do not show emotions or am I even capable of feel certain of emotions. Love and sentiment do not get me anywhere and there for I keep them out of my life!” You flinched. That was it. You had enough.

”Then let me help you.” You said and went to get your bag.

”What are you doing?” Sherlock asked sounding bored and fed up by your attitude, his brows furrowed.

”Like you said, you rid yourself of certain feelings. There for I’m leaving. Sorry I ever bothered to step into your life.” You said and turned. ”Goodbye, Sherlock Holmes.” And with that you left. You went down the stairs in a hurry and rage, stomping loudly. You heard Mrs. Hudson come out of her flat, now standing next to the front door, looking at you worriedly.

”Are you two having a little domestic?” She asked with a sad and nervous tone.

”Could say so.” You answered coldly and opened the door.

”When are you coming back, dear?”

”I’m not.” You deadpanned. You had stopped at the entrance and were looking at Mrs. Hudson with a serious expression.

Mrs. Hudson gazed up the stairs to the living room. ”I’m sure what ever he said he doesn’t mean it.” She assured you, but you knew better and you also had made up your mind.

”I’m sure he did.” You told, then closing the door and left Baker Street.

Mrs. Hudson was left alone to wonder what had happened. She let her eyes wonder towards the stairs again, whispering sadly to herself, ”What have you done now, Sherlock?”

Proper Hello

IMAGINE: John, Mary and Sherlock are at (Y/N)’s house for dinner. What happens when John and Mary leave?

[gif is not mine. ooc of sherlock (sometimes)] 

warnings: none

word count: 740


“What is that?” Was the first thing Sherlock said as he walked into her house. “And why is it looking at me like that?” Sherlock felt a nudge behind him and he respectfully moved.

“It’s a cat Sherlock, haven’t you seen one before?” John asked as he put down his coat. “And it’s looking at you because he’s interested.” He rolled his eyes before walking into the kitchen, “Now come along, she’s waiting for us.”

Sherlock and John walked into the kitchen and was instantly filled with a delicious aroma. “That smells good, what is that?” Sherlock asked as he saw her mixing something in a bowl. He saw her hips move from side to side and gulped. ‘Don’t even think about it.’ He mentally said to his nether regions. ‘Now, is not the time.’  

“It’s lamb roast but with my father’s special ingredient,” she turned to face him and wink, “and hello. Sorry I couldn’t answer the door, I was a bit preoccupied.” She turned back around and started mixing.

“It’s okay, where’s Mary?” John asked as he looked for his wife who was around 25 minutes earlier than them. She nodded to the bathroom and John went.


“You got a furball on your leg.” Sherlock pointed to her leg, where a cat was rubbing up against it.

She stopped mixing and picked the cat up, “Him? Oh yes, I forgot to tell you I got a cat, his name is Gale,” she rubbed noses with the cat and Sherlock smiled, “he’s a bit serious sometimes though, always seems like he’s thinking. Quite like you actually.” She let Galen back on the floor and walked over to him. “Hey.” She wrapped her arms around him and smiled.

Sherlock almost instantly put his arms around her, “Hello. How have you been?” He kissed the top of her head, it may have seemed like a friendly gesture but between them they knew it meant a lot more.

“Good, now that you’re here. What about you?”

“It’s been going alright. There’s been a case that Mycroft wanted me to look at. Quite boring actually.” Sherlock rolled his eyes as he relaxed into her arms.

“Can you tell me?” She pulled away and looked at his face.

“Sorry, can’t. It’s top secret.” he winked and pulled her closer. She laughed against him and he felt the vibrations. “I missed you.”

“I know, I’ve missed you too.” She went on her tip-toes and kissed him briefly on the lips. They held on to each other, comfortable in the silence.

“What have we missed?” Mary asked as she entered the room, they quickly both pulled away. “How’s the food? Is it burned yet?”

She laughed as she walked over to the oven, “I’m glad that you have so much faith in my cooking Mary. Supper is almost ready.”

While they waited for the lamb to finish cooking, she poured everyone a glass of wine and began to talk. They talked until they heard a beeping, signalling the lamb was done. “Oh, look at that. Isn’t that a beauty?” She awed as she pulled out the lamb from the oven.


Dinner went by quickly and soon enough Mary and John had to leave. “I’ll see you both tomorrow maybe? Down by the cafe that we all like?” She inquired as she walked them over to the door.

The couple nodded, “What about you Sherlock? Wanna catch the cab with us?” John asked.

“No, we have to talk about something,” he gestured between him and her, “I’ll catch one later, or I might stay in here for tonight.” John and Mary both nodded, a grin on their faces.

“Well have fun! Both of you, and we’ll both see you tomorrow.” Mary yelled as she got into the cab.

“Don’t be late!”

 As soon as Sherlock closed the front door he was roughly pushed into her lips, which he eagerly kissed back. “You have no idea how much I have wanted to do that all night.” Sherlock left kisses all over her face, her neck and her chest.

 “I think I do,” She rubbed herself up against the bulge in his jeans, “now, let’s have a proper hello.” She pulled his head and smashed their lips together, her hands quickly removing his shirt.

“Here?” He asked breathlessly as she began working on his belt.

“Yes.”

“Little vixen.” His words were choked out as she began removing his underwear.

The baby problem

I am calling it now.  I still think the baby is David’s.  There was no baby in the canon and John is hardly the settling down, domesticated type. It was written in as a plot device.  David was written in as a plot device.  

All these little deviations from the “John married a boring woman who died off camera” were deliberate changes influenced only by the endgame goals of Moftiss.

  • Mary is a fake name, a fake person that has only existed for 5 years.
  • A large chunk of that time she dated David.  2 years under that false name, she was with this man.

  • Their breakup was unwanted by one or both parties as they are both still very close friends.
  • David obviously still has feelings for her as Sherlock points out.  He is also posed as a threat to come between John and Mary.

  • Mary still cares about David as you can tell by her greeting at the wedding.  She is very touchy and beaming with smiles though David tries to dodge her as he now knows Sherlock is watching him.  Her face looks confused and hurt as he pulls back.  Her hands don’t even move and she has to shake her head to clear it before speaking again.

  • Sherlock implies that Mary still emotionally confides in David with his line “You have offered to be her shoulder to cry on no less than three occasions.”  This also insinuates she is not confiding in John and is turning to David instead.
  • Mary plays both Sherlock and John separately saying “run him” to the other.  She is being very clever as we learn later in HLV she was most likely buying herself alone time.  But to meet with CAM?  Or is it to meet with someone else?

  • The baby announcement leaves Mary looking stricken, terrified and as she says, “panicking”
  • Lucky for her that David and John look so similar…

My theory is that David and Mary were happy.  But for some reason she was forced to break up with him (maybe Moriarty assigned her to get close to John post-RF) and neither of them has really moved on.

Obviously it’s just a theory.  But I think David was introduced to us for a reason, even if it was very brief.

[For David’s little scene see: 9:17 mark in TSoT.]

If the baby is David’s it could actually provide an out for both Mary and John to have happy endings and no one needs to die in labor or be orphaned.  Granted the emotional and physical betrayal would sting, but I think an affair would just be a drop in the bucket after shooting-my-best-friend-dead.

**EDIT/UPDATE**

Salsify’s lovely meta called to my attention that David is in fact sitting at the ONE table seen in reaction shots with every. other. main. character.  Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, Tom and Molly and David.  In fact, Major Sholto is the only one secluded from this table whereas all the other guests are background characters, David has now been visually elevated and singled out from them.  Again.  He’s important.  Just you wait. 

AND LOOK AT HIS POUTY POOPY FACE.  Not even raising his glass for the toast.

"Cheater Cheater" - JohnWatsonxReaderxSherlock

WARNING: You are cheated on by John and ultimately end up with Sherlock in the end. Other than that, nothing bad. Just a little fluff later :)

Also, they may be a bit OOC, I’m so sorry! :( I’m kinda new to the fandom and I’m not that good with writing, but here goes!

You kicked open the door to 221b Baker Street and hauled in the bags of groceries.

’“Let’s go to the store!” he said. “Sherlock doesn’t have a case today!” he said. What a load of crud. There’s always a case.’

“(Y/N)?” You glanced around the corner while struggling to keep yourself from falling and see Sherlock laying on the couch appearing to be disturbed from the solitude from his Mind Palace.

“Hey Sher- Wait a second…. I thought you and John were out on a case?” Quickly tossing the groceries on the kitchen floor, you walked over to Sherlock and sat down across from him in a chair.

He looked at you with a bored expression, “No, he’s out with Mary.”

You stared at him for a moment, “…Do you mean Harry?”

“No, Mary.”

Licking your lips that suddenly were very dry, your hands started to shake as you leaned forward to try and keep the disturbing thoughts at bay, “Who’s Mary? And I want a straightforward answer, Holmes.”

Sherlock’s gaze wandered over your face for a brief moment, formulating how you would take this, “The woman he’s been seeing behind your back.”

Your throat suddenly tightened and tears gathered in your eyes. You bit the inside of your cheek and took in a deep breath.

“I apologize that he did so. You seemed very happy with him, even though he upset you at times.” Sherlock leaned back in his chair and held his hands once again in a prayer position while closing his eyes for a moment then opened them, got up, grabbed his coat and scarf, and headed out the door. “(Y/N), Mrs. Hudson has your favorite icecream down in her freezer, I will be back momentarily. Don’t feel obligated to wait up though.” And he was gone.

You closed your eyes as the tears started to flow freely down your cheeks and a few sobs escaped from your lips. ‘He’s right, I should go see Mrs. Hudson about this.’ You took your jacket in one hand and keys in the other and headed down to the sweet woman’s flat where you would stay for the next few hours.


Sherlock blew an agitated breath from his nose as he watched John flirt with Mary from outside the restaurant window.

It was obvious you were hurt, but Sherlock had no idea how to handle such things, so he did what seemed cliché and bought some chocolates and a small teddy bear for you like he had seen on the telly once in a sappy movie you had him and John watch along with you.

He also knew that it probably wouldn’t be the best time to unleash the fact that he had certain… feelings, towards you that you more than likely wouldn’t return.


You poured out everything to Mrs. Hudson, who listened intently. After you had let out every pent up hurt to her, she offered you some tissues and ice cream.

“(Y/N),” she said with a small smile, “Don’t let this get the better of you. When I look at you, I see a beautiful, strong, and stubborn young lady who would, without a second thought, lay down her life for the ones she loves. And even though you may not see it, someone else close to you admires you and loves you with every bit of his being.”

You looked up at her through red eyes, genuinely curious, “Who?”

She grinned, “You’ll find out over time dearie. Now, do you want another cuppa?”


Sherlock, with the bag in hand, made his way to 221c to set it in your living room.

He picked the lock and opened the door to see you sitting down in front of the telly watching (your fav show other than Sherlock) with the tub of ice cream from Mrs. Hudson.

“You’ve only been home for 10 minutes,” he mused, setting the bag down at your side. “And you’ve already showered, cleaned the kitchen, and almost finished that ice cream. You’re taking this better than expected.”

You snorted and looked up at Sherlock with tear-filled eyes, forcing a smile on your lips, “Just trying to distract myself I guess,” You stopped and paused the episode, “And Mrs. Hudson cheered me up. As much as it does hurt that I wasn’t good enough for John, I now realize, it isn’t my fault, and I shouldn’t feel sad that I wasn’t enough because it only matters that I’m enough for ME, that I like who I am and don’t pick myself apart piece by piece because of something someone else thinks.”

Sherlock’s lips curled up into a small smile, “(Y/N), you never cease to intrigue me with the words that come from your mouth. Now,” he sat down in a chair and looked at you seriously, “Do you wish to confront John? Or simply break off the relationship? Or something else possibly?”

Your fingers tapped your cheek softly as you thought, ideas whirring through your brain. One caught your attention and a devilish smile crossed your face, “I’ve got the perfect thing, but first, I have to see what you got me.”


After explaining the plan to Sherlock, who actually thought it would be quite humorous, you began the preparations.

Grabbing the basket, you started making food. “Sherlock, did you grab the candles and matches?”

“They’re right here,” he pointed at the small grocery bag.

“Hat?”

“Yes, (Y/N).”

“Makeup? Costume?”

“Yes to both, now stop fidgeting, you’ll cut your fingers off with the knife.”

You glanced down at the cutting board and saw the knife dangerously close to your hand, “Thank you.”

When all the preparations were finished, you called John.

“Hey darling!” The words felt like lead rolling off your tongue, but you still kept the sweet voice.

“H-Hello (Y/N). Is s-something wrong?”

“What? Of course not! I just wanted to tell you to meet me at the park at 6. I have a surprise for you!”

'Man will he be surprised…’

“Oh, alright. I’ll be there.”

“Great! Love you sweetie!” You hung up before he could say anything else and looked at Sherlock, “Now, to do your makeup.”


(So guys, this idea isn’t mine! I saw this on Pinterest, but I can’t remember the original Tumblr person who posted it. If you know who it was, please tell me so I can give them credit!!! P.S.- I also added a few things to it, so yeah…. Alright, enjoy my sweet marshmallow bunnies!)

After getting Sherlock’s camouflage all finished, (which took AN HOUR mind you because he kept getting bored and there were times where you had to just ignore his shooting the handgun at the wall), you waited at the park and glanced towards the trees. A flashlight signalled and you knew that Sherlock was watching in case things got too stressful. You nodded and bit your lip, 'Thank You God for that wonderful man…’

John arrived in a taxi, fidgeting and nervous. 'Good, you better be nervous young man.’

You plastered a smile on your face and ran over to hug him, 'He practically REEKS of perfume.’

“Darling, how was the case?”

“Hm? Oh, it was good. Yeah i-it was good.”

'Liar.’ “Good! Now come on, I’ve already set up the picnic. I think it’s time I told you something very important.”

John gulped, but nodded and followed you to the edge of the woods surrounding the park.

You skipped along while holding his hand until you reached the secluded spot in the forest where the evening sunlight failed to reach through the dense leaves.

The picnic was all set up, with John’s favorites of course, and candles resting on top of elegant candle sticks giving the space light.

Both of you sat down and you glanced towards the small bush about 10 feet away that hid Sherlock.

After talking about your days and eating a bit, you cleared your throat and looked up at John. “So, John…”

He nearly choked on his food, “Y-Yes, dear?”

“I want to tell you why I brought you here,” You smiled, “Erm, as now, my past relationships weren’t very… pleasant. Many ending in me being cheated on and all that.”

His face paled.

You pretended to not notice and continued, “Well, this is actually, I guess you could say, a crime scene. Because whenever they would cheat on me, they would end up… missing,” Smiling a small smile, you glanced around, “This is where they are, six feet under each.” You leaned forward towards the terrified John Watson, “And I heard that someone’s been naughty, Mr. Watson.” You laughed and blew out the candles, covering the space in complete and utter darkness.

John screamed and started to run, but this is where Sherlock came in. He tripped John and pinned him down while you let yourself just chuckle evilliy.

“So John,” You turned on the flashlight and pointed the beam at his face, “What’s she like, this, Mary I hear about?”

Well, after a few more moments of torture, you finally gave out and started to laugh hysterically, waving to Sherlock to let John go.

John’s eyes widened when he saw Sherlock, “You helped her? But you said you-”

“I know what I said. But it had gone on far long enough, John. You hurt (Y/N) deeply, that much I can tell. Did you really think that for a moment I didn’t care about you both the same? That I would sacrifice her over yourself? No, you are both equals in my mind, and I intend to let that be known. If she had cheated on you, my actions would have been the same.” He glared at John, “But, this doesn’t mean that I will forgive you in the time being for your hurting her. Now, return to Mary, Mr. Watson. I think she deserves to know of this endeavour of yours.”

John stood there for a moment, stunned from the words that came from his friend’s mouth, then huffed and left.

You turned to Sherlock with tears in your eyes and forced a smile, “Well, they better stay together seeing that he thought she was worth cheating.”

Sherlock’s chest tightened at the sight of you crying and gathered you in his arms, “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I shouldn’t have kept this from you.”

You hugged him tightly, letting your tears roll freely down your cheeks, “None of this is your fault, Sherl. Now, it seems we have more time to spend together. How about we go grab some ice cream?”

He scrunched his nose, “But you’ll get sick if you have any more. You ate a whole carton earlier.”

You winked at him, “I find your lack of faith disturbing, Holmes.”


TWO YEARS LATER…..

You kissed Sherlock’s cheek, “Love, it’s time that you go to bed. You’ve been at this all day and you’re exhausting yourself.”

He slumped further in his chair, “But I have to finish this case!! It’s imperative that it is solved as soon as possible!!!”

Massaging his shoulders, you pointed out, “Sherl, you won’t figure it out if your energy is all used up and your mind is tired. Now, go to sleep.”

Sherlock looked up at you with a small smile, “Mrs. Holmes, I love you dearly.” He sat you down in his lap and hugged you close to him, kissing your temple, then your lips.

You melted at his touch and murmured against his lips, “I have a deep regard for you as well, Mr. Holmes.”

___________________

Hey guys!! So, quick note, did anyone pick up on the two movie references I put in here? If so, I love you!

This is my first oneshot, please tell me how you liked it!!

Remember, you can always request more!!

Love you my marshmallow bunnies!!!!

Little Holmes Part 2 - Moriarty x reader

Originally posted by thekillersboy-blog

AN: Highly requested by many of you lovelies. I will probably be writing one more part after this one. It’s a little messy but I hope you still enjoy it!

Previous chapters: Part 1

Overall Summary: Moriarty teases Sherlock because he slept with you. Sherlock’s little sister. 

In this chapter: Sherlock confronts you on Moriarty which erupts a flood of memories to how it got to this moment.

Word count: 1,736

Warnings: None really, some hints of smut

“Honestly (Y/n), out of every single person on this entire planet you had to go for him! The man who tried to blow me and your brother up! The one who want us dead!” John threw his arms up in the air as he paced in front of you. You stared blankly at the wall behind him, you knew something like this would happen if they ever found out about your love life. 

“Technically, he only wants Sherlock dead.” You corrected him. 

Keep reading

Stradivari (An Adlock x Eurus Fanfiction)

(I get waaaaay too crazy when I write fics, and switching from Irene, Eurus, and Sherlock’s characterisation here is an internal experience on its own. This is exhausting to write tbh. Should I make a blog post about it? Gaaaaaah, whatever. On to the fic!)

The wind howls intimately against the crashing waves as the helicopter touched the cold cement of the building. Sherlock turned up the collar of his coat to hide his neck from the chilling breeze, entering the confines of Sherrinford to provide company for his sister. 

It was devastating just to think that he had promised her home and yet she’s still locked up like nothing’s changed. But if there is one thing he has gotten into terms with through the years, it’s that home is not a place, but it is a sanctuary found in the arms of the people you hold dear. 

His eyebrows furrowed as soon as he heard the echoing tune from her chambers, the familiarity of the curve of the notes making him sigh. 

With her back to him, she played the theme he wrote for The Woman, her head slowly swaying to the solemnity of the music. She paused for a moment, recognising that he had entered the room, and continued playing until the edge of the last note she had heard from him when she asked him to play once before. 

“Can you teach me the rest?” Eurus said calmly, putting the violin down to her side and turning to face her brother. 

Sherlock squinted at her, trying to guard his expression. “You told me we’re playing Chopin on my next visit.”

Eurus tilted her head slightly, raising an eyebrow at her brother. “That’s way too easy. No story. No excitement. I want to know more about this.”

Taking his own violin in hand, he started to tune the strings, eyes avoiding his sister’s. 

“We both know where this is going. Just tell me and save us both the agony.” her voice had a sing-song tone to it, drawing near the glass to look at her brother closely. 

“I’ve written it a long time ago.” Sherlock muttered, plucking some of the strings. 

Eurus’ stare was boring deep into him, and he could tell that she was studying him closely. 

“Oh, I’m not interested in when. I want to know why you changed the way you play it.” 

Sherlock put down the violin to meet his sister’s eyes, reading into her knowing expression. “Did I?”

Eurus smiled. “Oh, yes. I can tell. The way your fingers caress the strings… The absolutism in every stroke of the bow… When you wrote it, it was meant to show grief, frustration… confusion.”

The older Holmes remained stoic, still waiting for his sister to conclude her own amused inquiry. 

Her eyes turned to look at his fingers against the bow, a smile creeping up her face. “Now it’s full of passion,desire, longing… How long was it then when you last slept with her before we met for the first time? A week ago? More like two… three days?”

Sherlock looked at her pointedly, sensing a challenge in his sister’s voice. He figured there was no point in arguing. “Just out of a quiver of a note?”

Eurus smiled, looking pleased with herself. “That… and the cuffmarks on your left wrist that day. I’m quite surprised Mycroft didn’t notice.”

The detective gave an amused smile. “Oh, he did. He just got caught up with everything that he failed to make a fuss about it.”

There’s a slight relief that came with the sight of Eurus’ eyes twinkling with glee, and he could already tell she wasn’t giving up the matter at hand. It was not the best idea to have her be curious of Irene Adler, but it was already a lost cause. Needless to say that even if he didn’t want to admit, Eurus somehow made it easier to talk about The Woman. 

He saw his sister walk over to her bed to reach for her violin once more, looking at him expectantly as she claimed the form to play. 

“From the beginning, then.” Sherlock commanded, holding his bow to start the melody.


With Mycroft’s request, his next visit dawned earlier, much to Eurus’ demand. 

“I can’t play it right.” the younger Holmes snapped upon the arrival of her brother. 

Sherlock studied the tense movements of his sister, amused at her rampage. “Mycroft tells me you’ve memorised the piece entirely.”

“It wasn’t complicated, Sherlock, but what I can’t accept is why it doesn’t sound right. With you it was easy to read everything into the music, hardly a difficult deduction, really, as you are already well aware… but even if I try to channel the intricacies of the emotions you weaved into playing, it doesn’t work. As I’ve said before, what’s the point if the piece being beautiful and right isn’t the same thing?” 

There was spite in her voice, as if she was given a problem she cannot solve and the situation was foreign. Sherlock could recognise the same tone, similar to a tantrum, as he was also prone to such when he finds himself blind on a case. 

Still, how does a mind surpassing Newton unable to come into terms with a mere violin piece? 


Breathing heavily after playing Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, Sherlock could not hide his surprise upon seeing how quickly Eurus had recovered from the extraneous piece, her fingers curving once more to start what happened to be a screeching mess of notes. 

“What is it now?” he tried to hide the annoyance in his voice, but failed evidently. 

Eurus looked livid, playing an earsplitting tune that caused a violin string to snap. Sherlock looked at her, bewildered at her actions, to which her expression turned blank. 

“I would need another violin.” she said in a deadpan voice. 

Sherlock took it as a dismissal and turned to take his leave when his sister called once more, still in the same chilling voice, with another request. 

“And on your next visit, bring her.”


Eurus was not accepting any visitors unless her request was merited. 

“Oh for God’s sake! Have we really gotten to the point where family affairs and petty arguments involve bringing in national criminals in an institutionalised facility, who, by the way, are supposed to be officially dead?” Mycroft sighed, rubbing his temples in exasperation.

John couldn’t help but snort at the statement. “And this is new because…?”

Mycroft glared at the doctor, to which Sherlock laughed. The eldest Holmes darted back to look at his brother, a sour smile in his face. 

“You think this is funny, Sherlock? Who thought it was a clever idea to confuse our dear sister with matters of the heart?” Mycroft hissed. 

“You’re blaming me?” Sherlock spat back, rolling his eyes at Mycroft as if the suggestion was preposterous. 

John scoffed. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but Mycroft does have a point. You fed her this obsession, mate.”

Mycroft scorned. “Sentiment is not something she’s very familiar with, dear brother. She sees romance and love on a spectrum that is to be analysed logically — something you claim to be unfamiliar with but we all see the obvious. I believe — and hope in the heaves above — that she will come into a conclusion once she meets Irene Adler.”


The helicopter ride to Sherrinford was silent. 

Sherlock could feel Irene’s eyes trained on him curiously, but with only the information that Eurus wants to meet her, he couldn’t blame the burning look she was giving him.

“This will be interesting.” Irene mused, sliding the coat off her back before entering the room where the youngest Holmes resided. “Should I expect her to be worst than you?”

“You’ll know when you meet her.” Sherlock simply said as he followed her in. 

They saw Eurus sitting on her bed, expectant upon their arrival. Sherlock saw that his sister’s eyes were quick to scan Irene’s gait, expression turning from unreadable to purely amused.

“You exceeded my expectations.” she said bluntly, completely ignoring her brother, eyes only focused on The Woman. 

Irene gave her most intrepid smile, meeting the other woman’s challenging gaze with a spark from her own. “And that is?”

“I know you will be easy on the eyes, but I didn’t expect you would… sting.” Eurus simply replied. 

Sherlock studied the two of them, eyes piercing towards each other. It was like watching a dance on flames, and he was sure that if someone was going to get scorched, it would most likely be him. 

“I take that as a compliment. You’re not so bad yourself.” Irene addressed Eurus with a slight nod, causing the latter to narrow her eyes. 

Walking closer to the glass and still not acknowledging her brother, Eurus asked Irene to draw nearer. Sherlock wanted to protest but clearly they are lost in their own game, and he remained where he stood. 

“When you walked in, I thought the song made less sense, but seeing how my brother has been hovering nervously at the corner since you entered, I go back to where I stand.” Eurus affirmed haughtily. 

Irene grinned. “He pretends to be distant than he really is, but he’s easy to read. But I’m sure you already know that.”

Eurus looked amused. For the first time since her visitors arrived, she turned to her brother, and as quick as a whip, her voice was demanding. 

“Play it.” 

Sherlock looked affronted. “Why does it matter that much?” 

“Because I want to know why I’m wrong. I don’t like being wrong.” she said, deadpan, reaching for her violin as well.

Irene was watching in full interest, a smile playing on her lips as Sherlock rolled his eyes, giving in to the request. 

He sighed, fingers slightly trembling. He realised that he only played the piece for Irene once, a couple of years ago, the courage supplied by slight intoxication.

Taking his bow, he started, as accompanied by his sister. Halfway, he realised she stopped and left him to finish on his own, eyes fully focused on his movements, mirroring Irene’s own steady gaze. 

Lingering on the last note, Sherlock gave the bow one last stroke, before ending completely. 

Gathering his composure and trying to ignore the heat rising up his neck upon meeting Irene’s eyes, he turned to his sister. 

“Well?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant. 

Eurus pursed her lips slightly, before giving him a nod. “Interesting… I need to rest. You may leave.”

Irene raised her eyebrows in amusement, walking towards Sherlock. “Pleasure to meet you.” 

Instead of replying, the youngest Holmes took her violin in hand and started to play Paganini Caprice No. 1 with brevity.

“Until my next visit, Eurus.” Sherlock breathed before heading out. 

To his surprise, Eurus abruptly stopped in the middle of playing, sniping a remark at both him and Irene before she continued to play as if nothing happened. 

“Judging by the tension, I suggest you take the third room three corridors from here. I assure you it’ll be free from disturbance. ‘Til next time, Sherlock, Ms. Adler.”


“You didn’t take my advice. Was it easier to have sex in your flat? I assume the landlady wasn’t very happy about the creaking floors.” Eurus stated bluntly after finishing another piece from Bach. 

Sherlock let out a sigh, expecting his sister’s comments were long overdue ever since he arrived. 

“So, Eurus, what was your experiment about?” he asked, also curious about the conclusions her sister drew from the brief encounter with Irene. 

He saw her studying him, as if he was nothing more than a specimen for her to dissect. “I won’t play it anymore. Only you can play it. You make it beautiful. I can only play it right.”

“I thought you believe the two has to be the same thing?” Sherlock mused. 

“You proved me wrong. It was a song only you can play because you play it for her. I can’t play it because I don’t see her like you see her, and clearly romance or whatever is it you have with her is not something I’m akin to. But for all graciousness, and as I am fond of you, dear brother, then I would not butcher the song you obviously hold so dear.” 

Eurus recited the words as if it was a monologue she was merely reading, but Sherlock figured it was as sincere as she could get. 

“I… ah… thank you.” was all he managed to say. 

“Oh, but one last thing Sherlock.” Eurus noted.

Sherlock’s brow furrowed, wondering what could it possibly be at this point. 

“I’d like Irene to be my Christmas present. 5 minutes of unsupervised conversation would do.”

Things Fangirls can do when they're bored

Warning: this is actually a list full of bad advice


Sherlock

1. Start making deductions
2. Shoot the wall
3. Wear a white sheet
4. Forget your pants
5. Fake your own death…. okay you probably shouldn’t do that…
6. Go to your mind palace
7. If you don’t have a mind palace, create one
8. Turn up the collar of your coat so you look cool
9. Tell everyone to shut up because they lower the IQ of the whole street
10. Jump off…. no wait…
11. Steal the Crown Jewels …. okay no, that’s a bad idea too
12. Hack into your schools server and play “Did you miss me?” On every screen (please send me a video if you do that)
13. Make a human sacrifice to Moffat so he won’t kill any more characters
14. Set your ring tone to “Stayin’ Alive”
15. Don’t trust cab drivers
16. Go to London
17. Spy on your whole Family like Mycroft (it’s of national importance)
18. If you have a mind palace, delete the solar system
19. Quote Sherlock at least once in a conversation
20. Make “Sherlocked” your phone passcode

Doctor Strange

1. Text and Drive and become Sorcerer Supreme (no please don’t)
2. Imagine how much easier your life would be if you had a sling ring and/or the eye of Agamotto, instead of solving problems like a normal human being
3. Learn the hand movements
4. Throw people that you don’t like into another dimension
5. ‘Bargain’ with everyone
6. Always read the whole book- the warnings come after the spell
7. Never loose your sling ring
8. Learn the medical terms
9. Sound smart by randomly saying those terms
10. Drink tea from Nepal and hope you’ll develop mystic art skills
11. Make “shamblla” your WiFi password
12. contact Dormammu and open the Dark Dimension (okay this list is full of bad advice)
13. Quote Doctor Strange at least once in a conversation
14. Don’t walk the streets with an Infinity Stone
15. Listen to Beyoncé songs
16. Listen to the Songs Stephen listens to during the surgery scene
17. Make a portal and steal (borrow) books from the library
18. Go to Kathmandu and hope to find Kamar Taj
19. Bend and shape reality
20. Ask people what’s 'Wong’ (and use this pun way too often in general)

Doctor Who

1. Eat fish fingers and custard
2. Wear a bow tie
3. Buy a fez
4. Buy a sonic screwdriver (and annoy everyone around you)
5. Don’t diss the Sonic
6. Change your alarm clock to the Daleks saying “Exterminate”
7. Always bring a banana to a party
8. Only open doors after you pointed your sonic screwdriver at it
9. Call everything 'fantastic’
10. Say “come along Ponds” whenever you go somewhere with your friends
11. Say Allons-y before you go somewhere
12. Yell 'EXPLAIN! EXPLAIN!’ in a Dalek voice when your teacher moves on too fast
13. Use timey-wimey instead of time
14. Make a human sacrifice to Moffat so he won’t kill any more characters
14. Declare war on the moon
15. freak out when you see a crack in a wall
16. yell “Don’t blink!” Whenever you see a statue
17. be scared of WiFi
18. be scared of gas masks
19. Quote the Doctor at least once in a conversation
20. Use the TARDIS to shorten the waiting time for the next Sherlock season (or any other movie/TV show)


Marvel

1. Tell everyone to watch their language
2. Listen to the songs Star Lord has on his Walkman
3. If someone says “I have a [insert random thing]” reply by saying “we have a Hulk”
4. Eat Shawarma
5. Paint your face green when you’re angry
6. Say “I am Groot” at random times
7. say “please be a secret door, please be a secret door, please be a secret door” before you open doors
8. write “you know who I am” on name tags
10. say “I possess the power of Thor! I am worthy!’ Whenever you use a hammer
11. Build an Iron Man suit
12. Quote any Superhero at least once in a conversation
13. Find your awesome facial hair bro
14. Don’t press the button that will kill everything
15. Tell people that they look disgusting but are beautiful from the inside
16. Beware of ice (especially if you are a super solider)
17. Create Ultron
18. Build an arc reactor
19. Have 12% of a plan
20. Remember: you can do this all day (I mean we’re Fangirls)

How many things are you guilty of?

day six | sherlock valentine's challenge

prompt : “I love you.”


it’s like half eleven in the evening and i wasn’t going to write anything today because i’ve been so busy but this idea just hit me like a ton of bricks. mary’s not dead, i refuse to believe it.


“I love you.” [Y/N] felt her hands still as she stirred the sugar into the tea. Her eyes flickered up to meet with the couple in front of her, who only shrugged - looking equally as surprised. A hand settled on her own, encouraging her finger to release the spoon before slowly turning her around. Silence flooded the room as the dark haired man came into her line of sight, his face as blank as it normally is.

“What?” She breathed out in question, her voice shaking slightly as she swallowed deeply, a nervous laugh leaving her mouth as she watched his eyes study her, “What are you trying to figure out Sherlock?”

Her words came out stronger as her mind began to build walls in order to protect herself from the inevitable disappointment and heartache that was going to follow his answer.

“Nothing why w-”

“C’mon, just tell me. What human error is it this time, that has you all interested?” She bit at him, stepping backwards until her knees hit the edge of the coffee table, slightly spilling the hot beverages sat on it.

“What- no, listen.”

“No. I’ve listened to you plenty Sherlock Holmes,” She interrupted, her voice raising in volume as her eyes bore into his, a fiery gaze locking them together, “You listen to me! We are going to enjoy this valentine’s day as a family. We’re drinking tea and watching soppy love films. Your tests can wait.”

With her declaration, she took hold of the sugar and mile and marched over to the small kitchen, only to be halted by a very familiar hand on her elbow. Looking up at him, she spotted the slight frustration and hurt in his eyes as he looked down at her. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he shut his eyes and took in a deep breath, his free hand dipping into his pocket.

“Please believe me,” He whispered , almost as though her was making a private wish that she just about heard but Mary and John hadn’t. “I do…love you.” 

Her head shook at his words, a stinging sensation biting at her eyes as her lips pressed hard against each other in an attempt to stop them from quivering. Her heart pounded against her chest as her hands began to shake at the emotion coursing though her body.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to do but you don’t. You told me yourself. You don’t love. It’s a weakness and Sherlock Holmes doesn’t have weaknesses.”


ahhh - this idea threw itself at me when i was heading for bed so I’m sorry if it’s not very coherent but i hope you like it anyway. i’m thinking of making a happy ending part two because it is for valentine’s day after all.

also a major thanks to Sarah [ @prettyxlittlexwriter ] who is just the most supportive person I know thanks and also a massive thanks to @sherlockedimagines who also said something truly encouraging when I first thought about taking part in the challenge. thanks being said - goodnight!

Happy Valentine’s Day!

-MK x

themonsterinsidethemind  asked:

Could you do a ficlet where seven year old Mycroft sneaks into Sherlock's nursery to take care of him because Sherlock's cries are too soft for their parents to hear? I feel like Mycroft did most of the care anyways. Thank you!

It’s Uncle Rudy’s 50th birthday and everything is too loud. 

Of course, Mummy had made sure they were both in bed well before anyone had arrived. But the door has been left open the tiniest crack, and Mycroft wakes to the sound of chattering and music. He puts his hands over his ears and tries his best to go back to sleep.

That plan soon fails as he hears it: faint, tiny cries, coming from down the hallway. His little brother’s room. 

Mycroft sits up and thinks. His parents are downstairs- odds are Uncle Rudy’s on his fourth glass of champagne and is showing them how to line-dance, at this point. It’ll certainly be too loud for them to hear something from upstairs.

Which means… which means…

Mycroft is tiptoeing down the hall before he has properly made the decision. He opens the door into the bedroom and closes it- properly, this time. 

Sherlock is wailing in his cot and Mycroft approaches hesitantly. He seems unaware that someone is even in the room, not until Mycroft puts one of his hands through the bars of the cot. He stops abruptly mid-cry, and stares up at him.

Mycroft tilts his head. “Sorry. I’m not Mummy.”

Sherlock just blinks. He reaches out for Mycroft’s hand so Mycroft moves it closer. He isn’t that surprised when Sherlock’s hand wraps around his finger- he heard Mummy and Daddy say it was a reflex- but, still. It’s something. 

“I know it’s too noisy,” he says. Sherlock cries have almost disappeared, he seems far too preoccupied with staring up at him. “They’ll be gone soon. Mummy pre-ordered taxis.” 

He pretends that Sherlock can understand a word he’s saying. 

“It’ll be more fun when you can talk back,” he tells him. “No offence, but it’s sort of boring right now.” The hand around his finger squeezes once, and Mycroft giggles. “I didn’t say you were boring. Just the… the situation.”

Sherlock’s eyes are already drooping, and Mycroft is instantly proud and protective. He did that! Keeping his hand in the cot, he sits down, keeping watch in case any drunken relatives mistake this room for the toilet. 

“This way, you won’t be alone,” he whispers. But he knows Sherlock is already sleeping. 

Perhaps he wasn’t talking to Sherlock at all.


I’m taking ficlet prompts. <3

Confusion With Babies (Sherlock x Reader)

+Sherlock and the Reader are responsible for watching Mary and John’s baby as they go out on the town.

+A/N - This is my second writing! I’m sorry if it’s bloody awful! Enjoy :-) Also, thank to @fandoms-are-the-best-escape  for the wonderful prompt!
Sherlock sat in his chair, trying to deduce the person who sat in front of him.


“I can tell by the look in your eyes, you’ve had an adequate amount of sleep. Freshly groomed hair, you also must care about personal appearance meaning you have low self esteem.”

You walked out of Sherlock’s kitchen, smiling as you carried the small cuppa tea for your love interest.

“Sherlock, you can’t deduce a baby. We’re supposed to be watching her.”

He folded his hands and crossed a leg over his knee, giving a simple nod.

“I guess you’re right. They are particularly boring. Must be fun inside their simple little minds.”

You scoffed. Couldn’t he just act like he wanted to help John and Mary? You deciding to ignore Sherlock’s ignorance and sit on the couch, watching as little Rosie beamed at Sherlock. He continued to stare at the little girl.

“Sherlock?”

“Hm?”

“Are you okay? You just…stare.”

“Oh, yes. Aren’t babies interesting in a state?”

Taken by his question, you set down your tea. You nodded, crossing your legs.

“They are indeed.” You had finished your tea and sat in silence as Sherlock and you had watched Rosie. All of a sudden, Rosie began to cry. Her small cheeks becoming red as she cried. You quickly got up from your seat and hustled over to her.

Rosie was lifted up into your embrace, you held her close to your chest in hopes that she might calm down. But instead of calming down, she cried harder. You looked toward Sherlock for help. What would Sherlock know about babies?

“Sherlock? A little help please?” you begged.
Sherlock gapped, shrugging as if he was helpless. He had no bloody idea about children and their care. This was Sherlock Holmes. THE Sherlock Holmes was cracking under pressure from the most innocent human on the earth.

You had enough and walked over to Sherlock.

“Here, you try.”

Rosie reached out for Sherlock.

“(Y/N), please, no, I have no idea how to hold a ba-”

“You’ll be fine.”

The small baby settled down once she was in Sherlock’s embrace. You smiled as Sherlock held her. He began to pat her back slowly, not know what else to do. .

“You’re a natural, Holmes.” Smiling, you left the living room to go text Mary about the event.

Sherlock now stood alone in his flat’s living-room, rocking Rosie who seemed to not fall asleep.

Sherlock Holmes, you are the best detective in all of England and you don’t even understand how children work? Think

“Well, Rosie… perhaps one day you’ll be as smart as both of parents. God only knows you’ll be able to run a better blog than your father.”

For the first time that day, Sherlock smiled.

John and Mary had finished their outing and returned to 221B to pick up their 6-month old daughter. The sight John saw when he entered the detective’s flat was something nobody would ever think of - Sherlock holding a sleeping baby.

John raised a brow, “Sherlock? Are yo-”

“Shhhh! John, your daughter is sleeping.” Holmes rubbed the small girl’s back as her head rested in the crook of his neck.

Mary nudged John, “Would you have ever had guessed that Sherlock of all people would be able to care for…a baby?”

John shook his head.

“Never in a million years.”

Originally posted by ohboybasically

Hello Detective (Sherlock Imagine) Chapter 6

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

Your name: submit What is this?

          Finally your cab pulled up to John and Sherlock’s new flat. You paid the cabbie the small fare and stormed up the stairs to Sherlock. You were upset that he left you two at the crime scene without a single word. Neither you nor John had known your way around the city. You and Sherlock both knew you were going to have to work together on this case and he left anyway. He was going to have to change his ways of solidarity if this partnership was going to work.

       When you walked through the door you found Sherlock lying on the couch with nicotine patches all over his forearm.

       "Forget something?“ You asked, ushering John through the door. He didn’t look up to either of you.

       "What are you doing?” You asked strictly.

       "Nicotine patch. Helps me think.“ He said, his eyes still pointed towards the ceiling. “Impossible to sustain a smoking habit in London these days. Bad news for brain work.” He said.

        “Well it’s good news for breathing.” You said, still annoyed.

        “Ugh! Breathing! Breathing’s boring.” Sherlock groaned.

        “Is that three patches?” You asked, grabbing his arm.

        “It’s a three-patch problem.” He said, yanking it back.

        “Well, you asked me to come. I’m assuming it’s important.” John said.

        “Wait. He texted you and you didn’t tell me?” You said to John. Dear God, these guys will be the death of me. You thought.

        “Oh. Yeah, of course. Can I borrow your phone?” Sherlock asked John. He was still laying on the couch with his hands resting in prayer position beneath his chin.

        “My phone?” John asked confused.

        “Don’t wanna use mine,” Sherlock began to explain, “Always a chance the number will be recognized. It’s on the website.”

        “Mrs. Hudson’s got a phone.”

        “Yeah, she’s downstairs. I tried shouting but she didn’t hear.” Sherlock explained.

        “I was the other side of London. Because you left us there.” John said, defending himself.

        “There was no hurry.” Sherlock said, you groaned.

        “Can we get back to what’s actually important?” You asked, fed up with this banter.

        “Ah yes, her case. First big mistake. The murder took her case.”

        “So?” John asked.

         Sherlock mumbled to himself. Something about risking it. “On my desk there’s a number. I want you to send a text.” Sherlock said. You grabbed John’s phone out of his hand and walked over to his desk.

         "These words exactly,“ Sherlock dictated to you, "What happened at Lauriston Gardens? I must have blacked out. 22 Northumberland Street. Please come.” You typed exactly what he said.

          Sherlock walked over to the kitchen and picked up something and sat it down on a chair in front of you. After you sent the text you looked down to see a pink suitcase.

         "Oh my God. That’s it. Jennifer Wilson’s case.“ You said surprised.

         "Yes. Obviously.” Sherlock said. You stared at it for about a minute, eyes wide, not saying a word. Thoughts racing through your head.

         "Oh, perhaps I should mention, I didn’t kill her.“ Sherlock said, annoyed.

         "I never said you did.” You said, but the thought had crossed your mind after the doubt Donovan put in it.

          “Do people usually assume you’re the murderer?” You asked, eyebrow raised, a smirk on your face.

          “Now and then, yes.” He said, returning the smirk and hoping up on his chair. “I assume you realize how I found it?” Sherlock asked.

          “Yeah, I think I got that. Is there anything missing?” You asked.

          “Her phone.” He explained.

          “Oh, so that explains the text. The killer must have it. He’s probably going to freak out when he sees the text. You want him to show up so we can catch him.” You said, understanding.

          John’s phone suddenly rings. He didn’t answer as Sherlock explained everything to him.

         "Problem?“ Sherlock asked you as you were getting ready to leave.

         "Yeah, Donovan-” You began before Sherlock cut you off.

         "What about her?“ Sherlock asked.

         "She said… you get off on this. You enjoy it.” You said awkwardly.

         "And here you are,“ Sherlock said, "I can’t be the only one.”

        “Need I remind you, this is actually my job. I get paid to do this.” You said. Sherlock turned to walk out the door, you followed him.

         "I’ll just stay here then.“ John said, sitting down in front of the TV or telly as they say here.

         "We won’t be gone long. Sit tight.” You said. You and Sherlock began walking down to Northumberland Street.

          “You think he’s stupid enough to go there?” You asked Sherlock.

          “No, I think he’s brilliant enough. I love the brilliant ones. They’re all so desperate to get caught.” He said.

           "Appreciation.“ You said.

           "Exactly. Applause. At long last the spotlight. That’s the frailty of genius, Y/N, it needs an audience.”

           "I’ll keep that in mind.“ You said, off handedly.

           "This is his hunting ground. Right here in the heart of the city. Now that we know his victims were abducted, that changes everything.” Sherlock spoke.

          “All his victims disappeared from busy streets, crowded places, but nobody saw them go.” You followed along.

           "Think! Who do we trust, even though we don’t know them? Who passes unnoticed wherever they go? Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?“

           "I don’t know. Who?” You asked.

           "Haven’t the faintest. Hungry?“ Sherlock asked you. You followed Sherlock into a pub. The host pointed Sherlock towards towards a tale by the window.

           "Thank you, Billy.” He said, you two sat down.

           "22 Northumberland Street. Keep your eyes on it.“ Sherlock instructed you. You took off your coat. You were still wearing your blouse and pencil skirt from earlier and Sherlock was still in his suit.

             "He’s not just going to ring the door bell. He’d have to be crazy.” You said.

            “He has killed four people.” Sherlock said.

            “Yeah, I guess that’s considered crazy.” You agreed.

            “Sherlock!” The owner of the restaurant came up and shook his hand. “Anything on the menu, whatever you want, free. On the house, for you and your date.” He said, handing you a menu.

            “Oh, this isn’t… uh… that.” You stumbled over your words, blushing slightly.

           "Do you want to eat?“ Sherlock asked you.

           "This man got me off a murder charge.” The owner explained to you.

           "This is Angelo,“ Sherlock introduced the two of you. "Three years ago I proved to Lestrade at the time of a particularly vicious triple murder that Angelo was in a completely different part of town, house-breaking.” You shook his hand.

          “He cleared my name.” Angelo said.

          “I cleared it a bit. Anything happening opposite?” Sherlock asked him.

          “Nothing. But for this man, I’d have gone to prison.” Angelo explained.

          “You did go to prison.” Sherlock straightened out, keeping his eyes on Northumberland Street.

          “I’ll get a candle for the table. It’s more romantic.”

          “I’m not his date.” You called back, still annoyed at Sherlock for what had happened earlier.

           "You may as well eat. We might have a long wait.“ Sherlock said. You nodded and scanned the mend. Angelo soon brought back a candle and placed it in between you and Sherlock.

           "Thanks.” You said sarcastically. Sherlock was still looking out the window facing Northumberland Street.

           "People don’t have arch-enemies.“ You said, Sherlock snapped out of his trance and looked at you confused.

          "I’m sorry?” He asked.

          “In real life. Mycroft said he was your arch-enemy. There are no arch-enemies in real life, it just doesn’t happen.” You repeated.

          “Doesn’t it? Sounds a bit dull,” Sherlock said.

          “What do real people have, then, in their real lives?” Sherlock asked out, as if you were an expert on real life.

          “Um, friends. You know, people they know. People they like, people they don’t like. Girlfriends, boyfriends.” You said awkwardly.

          “Yes, well, as I was saying… dull.” Sherlock said, not really paying attention.

          “You don’t have a girlfriend, then?” You asked, not really implying anything, merely just curious.

          “Girlfriend? No… not really my area.” He said, still looking out the window. As he spoke the door chimed and a well dresses, handsome, man walked through the door. He saw you look at him and he winked at you. You smiled back and then looked back to Sherlock, well, at least someone was paying attention to you tonight. You didn’t mind male attention, you were used to it. You kind of thought it was flattering too. You pulled your attention back on Sherlock, who had noticed the man walk in and flirt with you.

          “Do you have a boyfriend? Which is fine, by the way.” You said, trying to think about anything other than the man who kept staring and you from the back of the room.

         "I know its fine.“ He replied.

         "So you’ve got a boyfriend then…” You stated.

         "No.“ Replied quickly. You were almost relieved. Honestly, you thought Sherlock was attractive, but you knew he wasn’t the type to have that sort of relationship.

        "Okay, right. That’s fine, you’re unattached. Just like me…” You trailed off, focusing back to the man who hadn’t taken his eyes off you, even as he spoke on the phone. You tried to read him, but he was too far away. He wore a grey suit, had short dark hair, and brown eyes. You didn’t know to be flattered or frightened by the attention you were getting from this man. He looked powerful, maybe he worked in the government, but you could tell he was smart. In some ways he reminded you of Sherlock.

         "Y/N um…“ Sherlock began, but you had barely heard him. You were still focused on the man in the back of the room. "I think you should know that I consider myself married to my work, and while I’m flattered, I’m really not looking for any…” You finally turned your attention back to him.

         "What?“ You asked, not really paying attention.

         "What in God’s name is so important that you keep looking at?” Sherlock asked, turning around to see the man who was staring at you.

         "Of course, figures.“ Sherlock said.

         "No… I… Sherlock. Whatever you’re insinuating it’s not… Does he look familiar to you?” You stumbled over your words.

          “No, he doesn’t.” Sherlock replied.

          “I swear I’ve seen him before.” You stated.

           "Look across the street. Taxi. It’s stopped,“ Sherlock said, you were glad to be off that topic. "Nobody getting in, nobody getting out. Why a taxi?” You looked across he street too.

           "Oh that’s clever. Is it clever? Why is it clever?“ Sherlock talked to himself.

          "You wanted someone who hides in plain sight. Stopping in a cab would be better than a private car.” You said.

           "Don’t stare.“ Sherlock instructed you.

           "You’re staring.” You retorted.

           "We can’t both stare.“ Sherlock hoped out of his seat and out the door. You followed him. We got our coats on as we waited for the taxi to move. It pulled away and Sherlock began to run, not noticing that there was a car about to hit him.

           "Sherlock!” You yelled as he slid across the hood of the car and continued running. You followed him.

           "Sherlock stopped as the cab turned a corner and entered his mind palace. He was looking for an alternate route where we could catch the taxi on foot. He stopped mumbling and took off, you followed, close behind. You wished you had worn other shoes. Your feet were going to die from running in these heels. You followed Sherlock up the stairs of some building and onto the roof.

          “Come on, Y/N.” Sherlock called.

          “You try doing this in heels.” You huffed, a few feet behind him. Sherlock lept over the stair rail. You jumped after him, not sure how your shoes survived the sudden impact. Sherlock jumped from the building you were on onto the one next to it. You stopped and looked down, being afraid of heights, you kind of freaked out.

        &n “Come on Y/N. We’re losing him!” Sherlock yelled, hearing his voice filled you with a little false courage and you took the leap. Now you were right behind him and running down stairs back onto the ground. You saw the cab pass you as you were running behind Sherlock, your lungs were on fire and your adrenaline was pumping faster than it ever was.

         "Oh! This way!“ Sherlock said, turning a corner. Sherlock’s pace quickened and you saw him jump in front of a cab. THE cab. the driver slammed on its brakes and Sherlock opened the back door.

          "Police! Open her up!” He yelled, panting. He got one look at the guy and started shaking his head. “No… Teeth, tan. What, Californian?” He said. He checked his luggage tag on the suitcase in front of him. “LA, Santa Monica. Just arrived.”

          “Not our guy.” You panted.

          “Probably your first trip to London, right?” Sherlock said, still slightly out of breath. “Going by your final destination and the route the cabbie was taking you.”

          “Sorry, are you guys the police?” The guy asked, you smiled. It was nice to hear an American accent again.

           "Yeah. Everything all right?“ Sherlock asked, pulling out a badge.

           "Yeah.” The guy replied was a smile.

           "Welcome to London.“ Sherlock smiled and slammed the door shut, and walked off. You followed him.

          "Basically just a cab that happened to slow down.” You said disappointed.

          “Basically.” Sherlock agreed.

         "Wrong country, good alibi.“ You said.

         "As they go.” Sherlock said.

         "Hey, where did you get this?“ You said ripping the badge out of Sherlock’s hand. "Detective Inspector Lestrade?” You read.

         "Yeah, I pickpocket him when he’s annoying. You can keep that one, I’ve got plenty back at the flat.“ Sherlock said.

         "You seem to keep forgetting that I have my own.” You said, pulling your badge out of your pocket. You put it back and started to laugh.

         "What?“ Sherlock asked, confused.

         "Nothing… just ‘Welcome to London’.” Sherlock laughed too.

         "Got your breath back?“ Sherlock asked.

         "Ready when you are.” You said, taking off down the road beside Sherlock and following him all the way back to Baker Street.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 6 hope you guys enjoy! Ask/request if you have any comments or suggestions.

Through Time and Space (part four)

part one, part two, part three


You’re talking to Sam and Katie when you hear the gunfire. “I’ll be back… hopefully.” You say before getting up and walking to the living room where the gunfire happened… it’s only Sherlock shooting a smiley face he painted on the wall, just because he is bored. As Sherlock fires another round into the wall John comes running up the stairs with his fingers in his ears.

“What the hell are you doing?” John yells.

“Bored.” Sherlock replies rather sulkily.

“What?”

“Bored!” Sherlock fires a few more rounds while yelling bored two more times. John somehow gets the gun away from Sherlock before removing the clip. You roll your eyes before heading back to your room where you were talking to your siblings.

“What was that about?” Sam asks when you sit back down.

“Sherlock started shooting a smiley face on the wall.” You reply.

“Why was he shooting the wall in the first place?”

“He was doing it out of boredom.”

“Are you sure that you should be staying there?” Cue the overprotective older siblings. You roll your eyes.

“Just because one my flatmates shoots the wall when he’s bored doesn’t mean that I’m going to leave like that.” You snap your fingers when you say ‘that’.

“He could’ve shot you though.” Katie counters.

“If I did get shot, my other flatmate is a doctor. I’m in good hands Katie.” You reply, your slight British accent starts to poke through. Recently, you noticed that your accent comes through when you are emotional. Sam starts laughing.
“What?”

“You have an accent.” He answers.

“No shit Sam.”
🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝
“Hello Mycroft.” You say the next day when you emerge from your room. “Don’t expect me to be glad to see you, ‘cause I’m really not.” You open the fridge to find the severed head of a vampire. That is a new one. “Sherlock, why do you have a severed head of a vampire in the fridge?”

“What do you mean?” Sherlock asks in response.

“I’ll explain when your brother isn’t around.” John comes running up the stairs asking if you and Sherlock are okay. “Are you alright John?” You ask.

“I just saw on the telly about the explosion near our flat.”

“Oh… they said it was a gas leak and no one got hurt.”

“Your shirt is singed slightly.” John points out.

“It’s been like that since the day I got it. This is a second hand shirt.”

“From your sister I presume.” Sherlock points out.

“Originally Dean’s but Katie was the one that gave it to me.” You answer. “I swear you know more about me then I know about myself.” After a little bit Mycroft takes his leave.

“Are you going to explain why you said vampire?” Sherlock asks getting out of his seat and walking over to you.

“If you grab the head I’ll show you.” You answer, Sherlock does so and sets the head on the table- John has a disgusted look on his face. “For one thing I noticed this.” You say as you show the consulting detective the vampire’s fangs.

“How did I miss those?” Sherlock questions.
“They’re easy to miss. That’s how vampires pass as human. Anyways if you look at where the neck used to be, it’s a clean cut.”

“So what does that mean?”

“It means the hunter that did this has hunted vampires before. If it was an amateur, it would look like a kindergartner’s art project.”

“So uneven?” Sherlock asks trying to follow your train of thought.

“Yup.” Sherlock looks rather intrigued. “Now here’s the thing most hunters are careful enough to depose all of the bodies and the heads… this hunter missed a head.”
🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝
You, Sherlock and John are at Scotland Yard following Lestrade to his office. “You like the funny cases, don’t you?” Lestrade asks. “The surprising ones.”

“Obviously.” Sherlock answers with a monotone voice, but you can see it in his eyes- his interest has been piqued.

“You’ll love this. That explosion…” Donovan walks by causing Sherlock to throw her a dirty look.

“Gas leak right?” Sherlock asks looking back at Lestrade.

“No.” The three of you look surprised at the detective’s response. Lestrade opens the door to his office. Inviting the three of you in.

“No?”

“No, made to look like one.”

“What?” John splutters. Lestrade gestures to the envelope on his desk. It has Sherlock’s name handwritten on it.

“Hardly anything left of the place except a strong box – a very strong box – and inside it was this.” Lestrade explains.

“You haven’t opened it?” Sherlock inquires.

“It’s addressed to you, isn’t it?” Sherlock reaches for the envelope then hesitates. “We’ve X-rayed it. It’s not booby-trapped.”

“How reassuring.” Sherlock then picks it up studying it. “Nice stationery. Bohemian.” Lestrade asks for clarification. “From the Czech Republic. No fingerprints?”

“No.” Lestrade replies. Sherlock studies the handwriting.

“She used a fountain pen. A Parker Duofold – iridium nib.”

“Deduce that from the cursive?” You ask. Sherlock chooses to ignore you. Sherlock then opens the envelope to find an exact replica of the phone from the woman in pink case. Lestrade refers to that case as the study in pink. “The what now?”

“You haven’t read John’s blog?” Lestrade asks sounding surprised. You arch an eyebrow.

“I didn’t even know John had a blog.”
🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝
You find out that the sneakers Sherlock found in 221c (Mrs. Hudson’s basement) belonged to a person named Carl Powers- Sherlock’s very first case.

“Nineteen eighty-nine, a young kid – champion swimmer – came up from Brighton for a school sports tournament; drowned in the pool. Tragic accident.” Sherlock says showing you and John an old newspaper headline on his phone. “You wouldn’t remember it. Why should you?”

“But you do…” You comment. Sherlock nods. “So there wasn’t anything suspicious about it then?”

“Nobody thought so – nobody except me. I was only a kid myself. I read about it in the papers.”

“Started young, didn’t you?” John jokes. Sherlock ignores his comment.

“The boy, Carl Powers, had some kind of fit in the water, but by the time they got him out it was too late. But there was something wrong; something I couldn’t get out of my head.”

“What?”

“His shoes.”

“You’ve lost me.” You state.

“They weren’t there. I made a fuss; I tried to get the police interested, but nobody seemed to think it was important. He’d left all the rest of his clothes in his locker, but there was no sign of his shoes …” Sherlock then gestures to the bag that is holding the sneakers. “Until now.”

While Sherlock is busy figuring out the case, John has to go pay a visit to Mycroft. You on the other hand was helping Katie do research for a hunt, but you’re distracted and can’t really focus on anything. “Y/N?” Katie asks.

“Hmm?” You answer not really paying any attention.

“What’s going on, you’re never like this.” You sigh, looking at your computer screen.

“I’m just distracted at the moment. There is a psychopath running around London…”

“Other then your roommate?”

“Sherlock isn’t a psychopath sis. He’s more of a sociopath… also Sherlock doesn’t strap people to bombs when he’s bored.” You stare down at the keyboard, fighting back tears. “Katie, I’m scared.” Normally you don’t tell anyone that you’re scared, but your siblings are the only exceptions.

“I don’t know what I can do… I mean you’re on the other side of the world (nickname).” You just nod in response.
🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝
A little later you get back to the flat carrying a small bag of Chinese food. You hear Sherlock yelling at the TV. ‘Is Sherlock watching Star Wars?’ You think to yourself.

You don’t really recall what happened before you ended up at the pool with John… John’s strapped to a bomb, and you have a sniper pointing his gun at your chest. When Sherlock shows up, you see his look of terror when he sees John. John removes the jacket revealing the bomb to Sherlock. Sherlock looks a little relieved but he is still wary of John for now. John narrates a few things from an ear piece. “I can stop John Watson and Y/N Winchester too… stop their hearts.” John says flinching slightly.

Now you’ve never been one for rules. So when it’s your turn to speak you do not follow the script. You actually pull the ear piece out of your ear and then throw it into the pool shorting it out. “I am not going to be someone’s goddamned puppet.” You state.

“Y/N look out!” Sherlock shouts, you see the bullet and move out of the way at the last second. The bullet embeds itself into the wall. You then walk over to Sherlock and John. The man named Moriarty eventually comes out. That is an interesting conversation to say the least. While Sherlock is taking off the bomb attached to John, your arm brushes against your side causing you to hiss softly.
Your side got grazed by that sniper bullet.

“Son of a bitch.” You say through clenched teeth.

“Y/N?” Sherlock asks looking up from what he is doing.

“Even though I got mostly out of the way, the bullet still grazed my side… its not bleeding too much though.”

“I’ll take a look at it when all this junk off of me.” John says as Sherlock removes the ear piece. John doesn’t get to look at your injury right away Moriarty just came back.
🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝
You flinch as John rubs some rubbing alcohol on your side. “Sorry.” He apologizes.

“It wasn’t you, it just stings.” You answer feeling a little exposed. All you’re wearing at the moment is a pair of jeans and your bra. “One would think that I would be somewhat used to this, considering how many times I’ve gotten hurt while hunting. Well then again my family cleans wounds with whiskey…”

“Did you guys drink it or was it strictly for first aid purposes?” John asks as he threads a needle, your injury is deep enough that you do need stitches for it.

“It was used as both.” You grimace as John starts stitching your side up. Sherlock walks into the kitchen not paying much heed to the fact you’re currently topless. Then again he’s only in a bed sheet. “Morning Sherlock.”

“Morning.” Sherlock yawns, you take a wild guess that today is going to be incredibly lazy. Since Sherlock had become incredibly popular via the internet he asks John to go to a crime scene after he was done patching you up. Sherlock also insists that John takes his laptop. Once John is done stitching your side up you put on a tank top as John heads out.

You can’t really do anything at the moment because John doesn’t want you to pop the stitches. It’s a little odd that you and Sherlock get an escort of sorts to somewhere, that somewhere just happens to be Buckingham Palace. John’s already there waiting for the two of you. “Are you wearing any pants?” He asks Sherlock once the three of you are sitting down on a nearby couch.

“No.” Sherlock answers before the three of you start to crack up. The three of you make some small talk for a little bit.

“What are we doing here, Sherlock? Seriously, what?” John asks. Sherlock admits he doesn’t know something. “Here to see the queen?” John just happens to ask as Mycroft enters.

“Oh, apparently yes.” Once again the three of you start to laugh. Mycroft doesn’t look amused.

“Just once, can you three behave like grown-ups?” Mycroft demands.

“We solve crimes. I blog about them, he forgets his pants, and she’s the queen of sass, so I wouldn’t hold out too much hope.” John points out with a grin. Once all the laughter has quieted down Mycroft offers Sherlock some clothes… Sherlock doesn’t pay any attention to his brother.

“We are in Buckingham Palace, the very heart of the British nation.” Mycroft then sternly adds: “Sherlock Holmes, put your trousers on.” Sherlock literally gets up to leave with a few words towards Mycroft.

“Good morning.” Sherlock states as he starts to walk away- only to have his brother stand on his sheet. That wasn’t a sight you needed to see this early- thankfully the consulting detective catches the sheet before it hits the ground completely. Eventually Mycroft wins and Sherlock reluctantly gets dressed. Sherlock asks why didn’t Mycroft go to the secret service and if he trusts them.

“Naturally not.” The eldest Holmes replies. “They all spy on people for money.” You and John share a small smile. Apparently the two of you were on Mycroft’s list of trustworthy people.
🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝
The doorbell rings and the people at the door are the Doctor and Rose. In all honesty you’re glad to see them- you need to get away for a little bit. Your flatmates are good people, they just get on your nerves- Sherlock being the main culprit. “Don’t tear those stitches out Y/N.” John states.

“Relax I won’t.” You reply.

“Stitches?” Rose asks.

“Long story short I got shot.” Rose just sighs in response.

“You’re a danger to yourself Y/N.”

“I know Rose. Let’s go before Sherlock drags me in on another case.” With that the three of you take your leave.

→ ← → ← → ← → ← → ← → ← → ← → ← ← → ← → ← → ← → ← → ← → ← → ← →

@the-third-winchester-warrior

@flannels-and-rocksalt

@always-keep-writing-spn

@winchesters-favorite-girl

@caroldanversinatardis

Last Thoughts

He can’t focus- too many thoughts and lies and theories and she’s talking about chips about chips and he feels shame that he could ever have doubted Sherlock; she was real, whoever she is, oh God, Sherlock, Sherlock-

And then she’s saying a word that feels strange to his ears- You’re-Us, You’re-Us, what? And then he remembers mythology books he’d read: Eurus, Greek, East Wind. He thinks back to Janus, the God with two faces, and wonders if there’s ever such a thing as a coincidence-

No, quick, double back, think. The East Wind? Sherlock’s voice, Sherlock’s voice when he was leaving, he hears the plane engine roaring, no no, Sherlock never left, it’s okay, it’s not okay; it is what it is: The East Wind is coming, Sherlock.

A rubbish big brother. Mycroft. Mycroft is lying. Lying. Liar-

“He’s making a funny face.”

Funny how? That funny face on the wallpaper, Sherlock shot because he was bored, Sherlock, please, I need to tell you- there’s something you need to know-

“I think I’ll put a hole in it.”

A myth that time freezes, he doesn’t have any- there’s a jolt and that pain, that familiar pain, he’s been here before, but he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know if he can hold on, he has no-one, and he’s lying down, he can’t stop lying down-

Drifting. Films and clowns and bombs and a ship? Pirates? It doesn’t make sense, but what does that matter, it’s better, this way, it’s-

Pain. Can’t. Can’t do it, have to- must- shut down-

Something. Something from above. “John? John, can you hear me? Oh Christ, oh Christ, oh-” 

Doesn’t he understand? It’s too late, it’s too late, now, he’s in the plane, he’s going to crash-

Hope? There’s no hope. Should tell someone. Let someone know. The stuff he wanted to say… too late, too late. 

Someone, someone crying: “I- I need to tell, need to tell his-his sister. No, I’m family, I am family, you don’t understand, I have to stay, I prom-”

Sister? Always something. Why does that sound funny? Harry. Yes. Tell my sister I’m here. 

The Someone is back: “Please, please, please, John, you’re not gone, I know you’re not gone, let me find you, let me save you-” 

Drifting back. Water. If he drowns, he can’t feel anything. Save my soul, seek my room-

A voice beginning to splinter, shaking- “Oh, hello. Are you-”

It speeds up. More pain. What they could become, he’s wanted, he aches for it, a future, but he’s lost, he’s lost-

“I know you’re in there, John Hamish Watson, and you, you l-listen to me right now, no excuses. Now you fight, you fight your way back, do you understand, you fight like the soldier you are because I-I can’t- I can’t do this alone-oh my God-”

There’s light. Light at the top of the well. But… but he was never in the well, was he?

“John? Oh, John, that’s it, that’s it, open your eyes-”

Everything is white- and then it isn’t. Sherlock’s face above him. Tears falling onto his cheeks. Familiar… but why… 

Sherlock gasps out a choked laugh, and there’s an attempt at a smile, and then he’s suddenly sobbing: “I love you, I love you, I love you.” 

The world rights itself.


Thought I’d give a more stream of consciousness-ish style a go! Inspired by @marcespot‘s second Garridebs video here. For @waitedforgarridebs <3

On Ao3 here.

Happy birthday mister Holmes

Sherlock x reader

Note: As some (if not all) of you, today (aka the 6th of January 2017) Sherlock Holmes, the original character created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle would be 163 years old since it’s been widely speculated his birthdate was January 6th 1854 (I feel like I’m repeating myself a bit here x) ) So yeah, in short it’s his birthday and that’s freakin amazing x) so here is an insert I worked on the whole day and I finally was able to finish with the help of the wonderful @prettyxlittlexwriter once again :D Side note that I feel like really important to mention: the case sort of featured in this insert ISN’T FROM ME, it’s an ADAPTATION of the original story “The adventure of the dancing men”; a original story written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle himself. So basically the case as been adapted from an old Sherlock Holmes’ case. Anyway, lots of talks, lets begin with our story.

Enjoy!

I was awoken by a shy sun ray passing through my opened curtain, still sitting at my desk. Wonderful, I had fallen asleep at my desk once again during yet another all nighter.

“I should seriously have a talk with Mycroft about paperwork on top of watching Sherlock…” I mumbled to myself. “Speaking of which…”

I glanced at my calendar, hanged right over my desk. January 6th… yep, that was it, Sherlock was turning 37 today.

“Today… Today?!”

I almost jumped out of my chair, the realization that it was today hit me like a ton of bricks. I hadn’t anything prepared yet, nothing in the fridge, no cake, no gift and I was supposed to have him over for dinner, but only after another full day of paperwork.

Quickly dressed, then to the kitchen, I grabbed my mobile phone from the table to text John.

“-You know which day we are today, don’t you?

–-Erm…
–-Epiphany?

-Are you serious?!

–-Yes I am completely and utterly serious about that.

-JOHN IT’S HIS BIRTHDAY
-YOU’RE HIS BEST FRIEND HOW CAN YOU FORGET THIS?!?!?!

–-Just kidding don’t worry Y/N.
–-I was searching for an interesting case for today, he seemed rather bored lately :/
–-Anything planned on your side?

-We’re having a dinner tonight. Just the two of us at my flat, nothing fancy for once.
-I got to go, keep me informed on that case :)

I put the phone on my pocket and opened the fridge to see exactly what I had left in it. I made a mental note to make sure to buy a few things and another one to tell Sherlock it was the last bloody time he was allowed to leave one of his darn experimentation here. Dead body parts left in my fridge… Yurk, I’ll make sure to clean it asap.

With that I grabbed my keys and my coat before I got outside. Locking my flat, my phone buzzed.

–-How about that: Mr. Hilton Cubitt found a series of strange dancing stickmen carved into a tree in front of his house and when his wife saw them, she panicked and since then has refused to explain his husband why. This morning a new serie appeared on the second tree in front of the house and he wanted to come and ask Sherlock some advices.

-Probably a coded message, he’ll like it. Did the man send you a picture?

–-Yes he did.

-Perfect, that should keep him busy for awhile :)”

With that, I took a cab to all the stupid paperwork left to classify at Mycroft’s office, hoping for a quick and painless day.

——————————~☆☆☆~————————–

“–-Dancing stickmen, need help for the cipher, care to come?-SH

-Come on, you don’t need my help for this one Holmes!

–-Do I?
-–It’s way more interesting than all the paperwork you’re doing lately anyway.-SH

-That’s part of my job apparently now…
-Beside babysitting you, that is.
-You can handle yourself this once, can you?

–-I hoped I wouldn’t have to pressure like this but..
-–It’s my birthday Y/N, you can’t say no.-SH

-Yes I can.
-Go have some fun with John a bit and I’ll see you tonight love.

–-You’re no fun Y/N

- :p”

——————————~☆☆☆~————————–

It was only around 23:00 that they both pushed the door to my flat, exhausted after their day. I gave them a look from upstairs, a small smile on my lips. They sure seemed to have had lots of fun.

“And?” I asked, curious about the result.
“You were right Y/N, it was brilliant! They used an old cipher from a group of criminals from the 1890’s!” answered Sherlock, a smile plastered on his lips, cheeks reddened by the cold winter air and eyes glistening with joy and excitation.

“Had we been a tad bit late, the couple would be dead by now,” added his friend, before he gave the two of us a quick look and then smiled. “Anyway, I should go now, Mary’s probably waiting for me home. Good night.” And with that, he left, leaving us alone in the flat.

I walked down the stairs and wrapped both arms around Sherlock’s neck, pinning him against the wall from the last stair, and kissed him lightly on his lips.

“Hungry?” I asked, smirking.
“Starving.”
“Then how about you come upstairs and tell be about the adventure of the dancing stickmen?”
“Y/N you’re doing like John again…”
“Well… readers love a good title don’t they?” I teased him.

We both climbed the stairs and went to the kitchen, where we ate as he relayed me his day.


Overall the story went like this: the woman use to live in America, where her father was the boss of a small group of criminal. Said criminal used an old code of sort of dancing stickmen, previously created by a now dissolved gang. The woman flew America when she chose to tell the police and the criminals were caught. But lately, one of them escaped prison and found her, giving her a warning for her up coming death. Luckily the cipher wasn’t as hard as Sherlock pretended it to be and they were able to get to the county in time.


As we were done eating, I was about to give him his gift when he grabbed me by my waist and pulled me on his laps, holding me on a tight embrace.

“I waited the whole day to do this.” He whispered against my ear.
“Had I known the Great Sherlock Holmes to be so affectionate, I wouldn’t have waited to see him sent to his death before telling him how much I love him…” I laughed softly.
“Shame on you then, for waiting all these years Miss Y/L/N…”

We waited like this for a few minutes, my head now resting on his shoulder, simply enjoying each other’s presence. As I was about to free myself from his loving grip, he tightened his hold on me and whispered in my ear.

“How about we go to bed now?”
“But I’ve got a gift for you… And then there’s the cake…”
He smirked. “It can wait, can it?”

Without giving me any more time to protest, he stood up, carrying me in his arms to my bedroom, before he simply dumped me on my bed, as I let out a surprised scream. Without even undressing in the slightest, he almost threw himself on the bed, right beside me, and held me again in a tight embrace. I smiled.

“Tired, are we, Holmes?”

He didn’t even bothered to answer me, eyes already closed as he let out an exhausted sigh.

“Sherlock?”

No answer except for a light snore. I chuckled softly, not to wake him up, playing gently with his curls.

“Happy birthday Mister Holmes.”

Distraction Part 1

A/N: There will be another part to this.

Summery: Reader helps her brother, Sherlock in a case and he figures out that she has a new partner.

Word count: 2253

Warnings: Possible swearing and violence Possibly worse. You have been warned.

Master list Part 2

Your name: submit What is this?

“Um, Sherlock there’s a woman outside for you.” John said, slightly confused as he walked into the flat. “Who is she?” Sherlock said as he continued to clean his violin.

“She didn’t say, but she called you Sherly.” Sherlock, paused before looking up at John, he placed the violin on the table next to him and looked out the window, down at the smiling woman. She was in a black classic car with sunglasses on staring right back at him. She made a small wave at him before he grabbed his coat. “Come on John, we have a case.” Sherlock said as he hurried down the stairs to greet the woman.


Keep reading

71 Things Tony Stark is Not Allowed To Do.

1. Tony is not allowed to refer to his lab as his Evil Science Lair, and then yell, “MUA! HA! HA! HA!” It makes people nervous.

2. Tony is not allowed to Photoshop Thor’s head to L'Oreal’s ‘you’re worth it’ advertisement, and then have it plastered on billboards all over the city.

3. Even if Thor thinks it’s funny.

4. Especially if Loki thinks it’s funny.

5. Tony is not allowed to eat the Red, White and Blue Turbo Rocket popsicle in front of Steve

6. Especially when there are other people present.

7. Even if it makes Steve throw him over his ridiculously big shoulders and run to their bedroom.

8. It grosses Clint out.

9. Who then proceeds to complain endlessly to Natasha about “why can’t those two keep their hands off each other for just five seconds? Do you know the time when I caught them doing - ?”

10. Natasha really, really doesn’t like Clint complaining.

11. Or the unwanted information about Tony and Steve’s sex lives.

12. Tony is not allowed to refer to himself as The Beauty, and Bruce as The Beast.

13. It’s insensitive (according to Pepper)

14. Plus, it makes Steve jealous for some reason.

15. Tony is not allowed to refer to himself as the salt to Pepper’s…well, pepper. That joke is getting older than Steve.

16. See number 14 again.

17. Tony is not allowed to tell new employees at Stark Tower that J.A.R.V.I.S is “the voice of God. Oh my God, you can hear it too??

18. Tony is not allowed to bribe The New York Times into printing a public service announcement stating that Justin Hammer has herpes.

19. Tony is not allowed to play the theme song from Psycho every time Nick Fury walk into the room.

20. And then scream like Janet Leigh.

21. Tony is not allowed to permit Dummy to leave the Lab. Ever.

22. Tony is not allowed to refer to the hickeys on Clint’s skin as the real Widow’s Bite.

23. Tony is not allowed to scream “IT’S ALIVE!!” every time Coulson walk into the room.

24. And then jump into Steve’s arms.

25. Tony is not allowed to stick a note on the back of Steve’s jacket saying: property of Tony Stark. If found, please return to Stark Tower, whenever Steve goes out on his own.

26. And then proceed to hack into the city’s CCTV cameras to “make sure Steve’s not being molested by little old ladies.”

27. Tony is not allowed to anger Bruce just so he can get piggy back rides from the Hulk.

28. The property damage is getting ridiculous.

29. Tony is not allowed to challenge Thor to a pop-tart eating contest. Thor on a sugar rush is a public hazard.

30. Tony, along with Clint, is not allowed to throw spit balls from the vents at the new interns in the R&D department and call it 'positive interaction.’

31. Tony is not allowed to randomly kidnap Skye in order to lure her to the 'awesomeness that is Tony Stark and Bruce Banner: Science Bros Extraordinaire.’

32. It upsets Coulson.

33. No matter how cool he thinks she is.

34. Tony is not allowed to send Loki books and/or pamphlets on adoption.

35. Or single parenthood.

36. Tony is not allowed to distribute fake wedding invitations at S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters celebrating the upcoming nuptials of Nick Fury and Maria Hill.

37. It makes Hill trigger happy.

38. No one wants that. No one.

39. Tony is not allowed to install a DDR machine in the Tower and then force new employees to compete as part of the 'initiation process.’

40. Tony is not allowed to introduce Darcy to others as his 'long lost illegitimate daughter.’

41. And then sic Dummy lose on any guy who comes near her.

42. Tony is not allowed to hack into Mario Kart so that only he can win.

43. It leads to bloodshed.

44. The laundry guys are getting really tired of all the blood stains they have to get rid of.

45. Tony is not allowed to give Steve a strip tease in the communal lounge.

46. Nobody except Steve wants to see him in a Captain America catsuit.

47. Tony is not allowed to ask Steve to “draw me like one of your French girls.”

48. And then get naked.

49. No matter where he is.

50. Tony is not allowed to buy The Dodgers for Steve every time their anniversary comes around.

51. Tony is not allowed to dye all of Clint’s clothes purple.

52. And then proclaim loudly to everyone that the colour purple represents sexual frustration.

53. Tony is not allowed to send assassins after General Ross.

54. Even if Natasha and Clint offer.

55. Tony is not allowed to ask Natasha to start playing with her knives every time an intern or a new Tower employee walks past her.

56. And then smile at them while doing so.

57. Tony is not allowed to start a paint gun war between the Avengers.

58. That has the potential to bring about the Apocalypse.

59. Tony is not allowed to ask Loki what gender he is.

60. Tony is not allowed to scream “blasphemy!” and then cross himself whenever he sees someone holding an Apple product.

61. Or Microsoft.

62. And then burn it to the ground and call it an exorcism.

63. Tony is not allowed to write 'for a good time, call…’ on the walls of all of New York’s public restrooms and attach Clint’s mobile number next to it.

64. Tony is not allowed to seduce Steve anywhere on the Helicarrier, or S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters.

65. And then have unnecessarily loud and noisy sex.

66. Many S.H.I.E.L.D Agents already have PTSD. They don’t need the added trauma.

67. Tony is not allowed to drench Wanda in 'holy water’ while screaming “Witch! Fiend! Demon!” at her.

68. Tony is not allowed to refer to himself in the third person.

69. Tony is not allowed to send death threats to Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat to force them to “make Sherlock season 4 happen. Now.

70. Tony is not allowed to tell Pepper that “the only way I’ll attend any of those mind numbingly boring galas is if you convince Angelina Jolie to be my date.”

71. Visit number 14 again. Seriously, Steve is a jealous and possessive person. Get that through your thick head.


(You can also find me on Ao3)