“When objects large enough to generate their own gravity fields come into each other’s influence spheres, they increase their destructive force as they hurtle towards each other, and they are lucky if they escape each other’s gravity at all after the collision, surfaces damaged and cracked from the impact and black hole cores shuddering with new activity.”
-Evolving Universe: The Biography of the Cosmos, Govert Schilling
One night Sherlock was jumping on the bed. He fell off and bumped his head. In came the doctor, and the doctor said, “No more Sherlock jumping on the bed.”
Sherlock gazed woozily up at John from the spot on the floor where he’d landed. John knelt down to examine him.
“You don’t appear to have a concussion, but just to be on the safe side I’d better stay in here with you tonight, so I can wake you up every couple of hours to check on you,” John said.
Sherlock made no objection.
The next night Sherlock was jumping on the bed. He fell off and bumped his head. In came the doctor, and the doctor said, “No more Sherlock jumping on the bed!”
“I think I might have a concussion,” Sherlock said. “You’d better stay in here again tonight, so you can wake me up every couple of hours to check.”
John made no objection.
The third night Sherlock was jumping on the bed.
He fell off and bumped his head. In came the doctor, and the doctor said, “No more Sherlock jumping on the bed!”
“It’s for an experiment, John,” Sherlock explained.
“Well, I suppose I’m going to have to stay in here again tonight,” John said.
Sherlock made no objection.
The fourth night Sherlock was jumping on the bed. He fell off and bumped his head. In came the doctor, and the doctor said, “No more Sherlock jumping on the bed!”
“But John —”
“No, Sherlock. I don’t care if it’s for an experiment. Even your thick skull can only take so many hits without serious damage.”
“I suppose you’ll have to stay with me again, to make sure I don’t have a concussion,” Sherlock said.
John made no objection.
The fifth night Sherlock was jumping on the bed. He fell off and bumped his head. In came the doctor, and the doctor said, “NO MORE SHERLOCK JUMPING ON THE BED!”
Sherlock opened his mouth to speak, but John cut him off before he could begin.
“This is getting ridiculous. You don’t have to keep banging your head in order to get me to spend the night with you. If you want me to share your bed, all you have to do is ask,” John said, sliding under the duvet.
Sherlock made no objection.
John and Sherlock, together in the bed, Taking turns giving head. In came Mrs. Hudson, and this is what she said: “I knew you wouldn’t need two beds.”
This is my response to the @hiatustory May prompt: Bedsharing.
Tags under the cut - please let me know if you’d like me to tag or untag you
Do you have any prompts for a house or apartment full of artists/ art students?
Character A is coming home from a late night dance class, and after entering in their dark apartment, they’re ambushed by Character B, who is yelling and brandishing one of their calligraphy pens like a tiny knife. Turns out that Character B thought that Character A had been home all night and that their shared apartment was being broken into.
“Could you stop playing depressing music? I get that you like listening to morbid music while you work but please, put on some headphones or at least turn the music down.” AU
Character A is really into comic books and wants to become an artist in the future, but at the moment, Character A is going to school for a major that their parent(s) chose. Character B is Character A’s roommate, and Character B is very into writing, so when they learn that Character A has always dreamed of making their own comic book, Character B offers to help them.
In order to keep up with their thoughts, Character A tends to scribble cryptic, half-formed ideas on their hands and arms – “lovecraftian style Sherlock Holmes mystery”, “object head w/lemon slice”, “granite hearts refuse to break”, etc. – throughout the day. When they come home at night, Character B looks over Character A’s hands/arms and takes the ideas that they feel like they can do something with.
“Help it’s 2am and I need a last minute nude model so shuck off your clothes and start posing. ” AU
Character A has been trying to work through a really difficult writer’s block, but they just can’t get out of it. Characters B and C, Character A’s roommates, decide to take Character A out for a long hike so that Character A can hopefully work out whatever is holding them back.
Alternatively, Character A’s art is in direct connection with their feelings, so when Character A has a lot of repressed emotions, their art begins to suffer and the only thing that helps is a good crying session. This is usually set up by Character B with a night full of sad movies and both of them talking about their feelings.
A/N: This could link to one of the other reader inserts ‘The Baby Is Coming’ but you don’t have to read that to understand this. I hope I haven’t made Mycroft or Sherlock to OOC. Enjoy! xxx
Exhausted was an understatement. You knew that childbirth was very painful and tiring but nothing could have prepared you for that. However, the long nine months and incredibly painful birth was all worth it as your little boy was born. Sherlock was stood by the window nursing the babe. He’d insisted that you slept but you wanted to stay awake because the Holmes parents, now grandparents, were on their way. You assumed that Mycroft would probably stay at the Holmes residence but you didn’t know whether he’d be forced to pay a visit to the hospital. Sherlock was tense. You could tell he didn’t want Mycroft to come but you did. You wanted a close family and although Mycroft was a fairly distant and an unsociable person, he was the uncle of your child and you wanted him to be involved.
“Yes mother,” A voice said from the other side of the door. The voice belonged to Mycroft Holmes. “The nurse said that they were in here.” The door opened slowly and in came Mycroft and his parents.
“Congratulations!” Mrs Holmes exclaimed and came over to your bedside. She kissed your cheek and then rushed over to Sherlock and kissed him. Mr Holmes gave his congratulations whereas Mycroft stayed in the doorway.
“Have you decided on a name?” Mycroft asked.
“Arthur Hamish William Holmes,” You replied with a smile.
“My little Arthur,” Mrs Holmes said happily as she took the boy from Sherlock. “I say that we’re too young to be grandparents."
"I for one accept my age,” Her husband replied but she just chuckled. After holding Arthur for quite a while, she finally passed your son over to grandfather Holmes.
“Finally a grandchild,” He said. “We knew Mycroft would never have children and we finally gave up hope with Sherlock. Then he met you, Y/N. You both produced a lovely little baby boy. My grandson.” He was full of pride.
“Would you like a hold?” You asked Mycroft.
Sherlock was about to object but his brother did first. “No thank you,” He said. “Babies are not really my forte and I have a good view from here.”
“No I insist.”
“Mycroft Holmes, you will take the baby, hold the baby, and enjoy it.” You got out of bed and you took Arthur from Mr Holmes. You then passed him to the child’s uncle. Mycroft was terrified. He was almost shaking. Mycroft was in charge of the whole country (practically) but that was no problem and he was as cool as a cucumber. Give him a child and he will panic.
“I think we should all, with the exception of Mycroft and Y/N, get some coffee,” Mrs Holmes said. “No objections!" They all got up and left. There was no arguing with Mrs Holmes.
Mycroft watched helplessly as you fell asleep. He had hoped to hand Arthur back you but tiredness had took over you. He couldn’t give him to anyone else either. He was stuck. He walked over to the window, which was where Sherlock had stood earlier. Mycroft looked down at the boy. Arthur’s eyes were wide open and he was looking up at his uncle. Mycroft’s expression softened. He began to realise how important this child was to him. He was trusted with little Arthur and he would do anything to protect him. Mycroft was the one who taught Sherlock to not care however the 'iceman’ himself was now making exceptions.
Sherlock entered the room. He saw you asleep in the bed and then saw his older brother looking down at Arthur with admiration in his eyes.
"I may appear harsh,” Mycroft stated. “However, I promise that I will do everything in my power to keep Arthur, you, and Y/N safe.”
“Were you not doing that already?”
“Yes but that was out of 'brotherly compassion.’ Now it is out of… Out of… Love.” Love was a hard word for Mycroft to get out but he did it all the same.
Sherlock chuckled. “I’m flattered.”
“I’m the father. Am I not able to keep my wife and child safe?”
“Yes but what happens when it comes to cases? When you’re getting into other people’s business and you put yourself and them in danger? Or when you’re bored so you get high? Who will be there to pick up the pieces? This isn’t a game, Sherlock! These are people’s lives!”
“I’m a changed man now.”
“I’m trying to help, Sherlock!”
He sighed. “Then thank you. Also, Y/N would like you to be godfather as well as John.”
For the headcanon thing: Skirt 😊😊 Now is right LOL
(I’ll assume sherlolly hehe) Molly owns a skirt that she bought on a whim, but feels it isn’t practical for work and is too dressy for casual wear. It’s kind of full so flares out when she spins which is why she fell in love with it. Sherlock (having hid out at her flat countless times) totally deduced all this about the garment and ends up using it as an excuse to ask her out. “You do realize that skirt you keep at the back of your closet is being completely wasted? That is so obviously a dancing skirt…you may as well come dancing with my this weekend!” 😉
Oh, look at these two. How they wish to destroy one another. How they wish to control one another. How they both wish to be free. Can you see? Can you see how much they need one another? No, perhaps not. Sometimes these things cannot be seen.
Okay so this was reaaaaally heavily inspired by Hotline Miami bc I forgot how much I loved that game. I love Jacket’s character so much, I thought it’d be interesting for reader to have a similar one. So here, have a murderous Mute!Reader. ~ 🕷️💋
‘Need you down at the station ASAP. - GL’ ‘I thought I told you already, if he has a purple mop, you can arrest him. Check the underwear drawer, the gun’s in there. -SH’ ‘We already took care of that. New case, very peculiar circumstances. Need you here for help. Please come. -GL’ ‘Be there in twenty. -SH’
Sherlock grabbed his coat, throwing it on as he hurried out of the flat and into the street below, where he eagerly hailed a taxi. New cases were always amusing. Arriving at Scotland Yard, he made his way to Lestrade’s office, where the older man sat waiting, sifting through various objects sprawled across his desk.
Lestrade jumped at Sherlock’s voice, “Yes. Multiple homicides. Horribly bloody. Might as well call it a massacre.”
“You should’ve seen it. The newer guys, they won’t sleep for a week, at least.”
“Yeah,” Lestrade picked up one of the objects - a Walkman - and inspected the outside before opening it and pulling out a cassette. He noted the piece of Scotch tape at the top with chicken-scratch writing scrawled across it. He took a moment to read it.
I kinda put a lot on this… so, with all my heart for all Adlock fans. Thanks to @fireloom for her help in this ^_^
Prompt day #14:“Happy Valentine’s Day, Sherlock Holmes.
“Wake up!” Nero says in a playful tone. “Get up.” The boy tries to open his father’s eyes. Sherlock rolls on the bed to avoid the intrusion of his son. This action only causes to Nero burst into laughter. “Get up! I want breakfast! Can we make pancakes? We make pancakes when mom is here,” Nero asks with excitement. Sherlock slowly rolls back to face the boy.
“We made pancakes only once, when your mother left. But, I think we can manage and make for breakfast today anyway,” Answers Sherlock with a sleepy voice, barely opening his eyes.
“When in mommy coming back?” The boy asks, eagerness in his small voice.
“Tomorrow,” Sherlock states bluntly.
“Will we have pancakes then?” Sherlock laughs at the question.
“Yes, Nero. We can also have pancakes tomorrow.” The boy cheers and jumps on the bed. Sherlock gets up lazily. “Come on, breakfast first and then…”
“To tend to the bees!” Yells Nero happily.
“Sherlock! Help me! There’s a bee trapped in my jumper!” Nero cries, running to his father. With gently hands, Sherlock untangles the bee from Nero’s jumper and lets it fly away. Nero thanks his father and runs away to keep playing with his dog Titus.
His son is still too young to have any real interest in caring for the bees. Sherlock understands. At the age of six Nero only wants to puzzle and play with Titus, a gift from his aunt Eurus.
A faint noise of a car parking in the front of the house startles Sherlock. Leaving his current activities, he goes to the front yard, followed closely by Nero. A black car just parked. Mycroft step out of the passenger side door and walks towards Sherlock. He inspects his brother’s attitude and knows something is out of place. Sherlock invites him in.
“Go play outside with Titus, Nero.” The boy complains, but does as he is told at Sherlock’s insistence.
“I’ll go straight to the point,” Mycroft interrupts. “I don’t like to be the bearer of bad news, but I prefer you hear it from me than from anybody else.” He avoids eye contact on purpose. Sherlock’s heart begins to race with the thought of the imminent bad news coming, yet, he maintains a calm stance. Sherlock hints Mycroft to continue.
“It’s about Adler. The Woman.”
“To the point, Mycroft.” Sherlock is getting eager.
“She is missing.” Mycroft pauses to study his brother’s features, unreadable. “The mission didn’t go as well as planned. There was a shooting. When my agents made it to the location, everyone had already disappeared. No signs of spies, shooters or Irene Adler.”
Sherlock shut his eyes and turns around, not wanting to face his brother. The Woman is smart, her tells himself, she’ll be fine. Despite his thoughts, he can’t help his accelerating heart rate. Mycroft speech, on the other hand, has a failure that Sherlock can see through.
“When did this happened?” Sherlock asks with an incredulous tone. Mycroft hesitates.
“Eighteen hours ago. My agents haven’t been able to locate her.” This time, Sherlock’s breath catches in his throat. He is disconcert and can’t help to show it. “But rest assure, brother dear, my agents will-”
“The same agents that didn’t make it to the shooting on time?” Interrupts Sherlock, visibly upset now. Mycroft goes silent and Sherlock begins to pace in the room.
“Don’t you, by any means, brother, think of going after her,” Mycroft warns.
“Of course not, Mycroft!” Shouts Sherlock. “I can’t leave Nero alone. It is the incompetence of your so called spies that troubles me.” Sherlock sighs and wanders pointlessly around the room until he find Mycroft’s eyes. “You better find her, Mycroft.”
Mycroft nods and with solemn attitude, hands him a packet of cigarettes. “Stay focused, Sherlock. For your son.” With a final nod, Mycroft leaves.
Once the door shuts, Sherlock drops on the couch and hides his face in his hands. He is trembling, panting and sweating. He takes a deep breath and tries to calm down. The cigarettes held tightly in his hand.After so many years of playing their game, they finally had a family, a place to call home. Sherlock does not want to lose that. Home lose its meaning without her. The room spins around him, he can’t remember the last time he felt so much despair. Nero’s voice takes him out of his thoughts.
“What happened?” Asks the boy shyly.
“Hey buddy, come here,” Sherlock calls gently, inviting Nero to sit next to him.
“Is it about mommy?” The boy continues as he sits beside his father.
“Yes, it is,” Sherlock keeps a peaceful tone. “Something arose and… she is not coming home tomorrow.”
“Soon,” Reassures Sherlock. “Not tomorrow, but soon.” Nero nods.
Requested by @kentuckyfriedcarlos:
Hello! Wondering if you could write a fanfic about Sherlock asking reader to deduce something and her being uncomfortable and unsure but he insists she tries and he is sweet about it? Thank you so much! 💚
Pairing: Sherlock x reader.
Word count: 907(Shortie)
A/N: I don’t know if this is sweet enough to fulfill the request, but it made me really happy to write it so…
stared at the object for longer than anyone was used to. He barely blinked, and
his face remained neutral as his mind wandered to every last bit of information
it kept looking desperately for an answer.
sitting at the opposite side of the table, analysing him. She was quiet, as
usual, and she tried with all her might to keep her breath steady so Sherlock
wouldn’t kick her out.
missing something…” Sherlock muttered and looked up at her.
isn’t a clue at all.” She suggested quietly.
Sherlock shook his head, “This is a
clue, I just… There’s a whole; something I’m not seeing.”
should rest.” She whispered.
Sherlock replied absentmindedly, “I need John to help me.”
his honey moon, remember?” Sherlock sighed heavily.
“Honey moon.” He mocked bitterly, “What a
bunch of crap, there are loads of criminals all over London and he prefers to
go on holiday rather than…”
wife.” (Y/N) interrupted, “He went on holiday with his wife.”
Sherlock leaned back on his chair and looked around as if that would help him
get to the desired result.
someone smart to help him. Of course, no one had a mind such as himself but it
truly helped him when someone else gave him their opinions. Without mentioning
the fact that he was still missing something important, which could be something
obvious to the eyes of a common citizen and that increased his need for someone
blue eyes landed on the girl sitting across from him. Her whole appearance was
tidy and neat, with her hair perfectly combed and natural makeup. The clothes
of a real lady, which she liked to wear during cases because it gave her more
of a professional look. Sherlock tilted his head as an idea invaded his mind.
spoke. The girl looked up at him. She had been playing with her phone.
She replied, the detective smiled slightly.
make a deduction for me?” Her posture instantly stiffened and her eyes became
stuttered, pointing at herself like there were a million other (Y/N)s in that
Sherlock stated softly.
think I can be of much use to you, Sher.” She said.
assured, “I actually need someone else’s opinion and you’re smart enough to do
we were all idiot compared to you.” (Y/N) muttered.
all idiot compared to me.” Sherlock stated, “But out of all of the idiots, you’re
the less idiotic.”
smirked at his words. “A compliment worthy of Sherlock Holmes.” She joked.
gave her a wide grin before going back to his serious face. “So?” He gestured
at the object. (Y/N) sighed heavily and hesitated a little before she stood up
and walked to his side.
moved a little so (Y/N) had a better, more direct view of the object. The girl
leaned down on the table to observe.
was just one shoe, the left one. High-heels, to be specific, and very tall and
It’s quite a big foot for a lady.” She stuttered, “Unless she’s six feet tall,
I’d say she’s actually a man.” Sherlock furrowed at her words but didn’t
interrupt. “They are also quite unused so I’m guessing they’re new, although there’s…”
She lifted the shoe to look at the sole, “Yup, there’s glitter there, see?”
Sherlock nodded, “There are bars… Gay bars, that have glitter all over.”
was found nearby one of those bars.” Sherlock whispered and then looked up at
her. “What else?”
all, I’ve got nothing more.” She confessed shyly. Sherlock nodded once more and
took the shoe off her hands, returning it to its past position. (Y/N) searched
for his gaze, and Sherlock noticed which resulted in a silent question from
him. “Did I do right?” She asked.
relaxed at her words. “Well, you skipped a lot of important data…” (Y/N) face fell,
and Sherlock instantly changed his voice tone to a softer one, “But it was, in
a way, brilliant.”
of an idiot?” She inquired.
“No, not at
all.” Sherlock shook his head, “I thought it was a huge woman…” He confessed.
shyly. “Maybe she is a huge woman and I am an idiot.”
Sherlock’s turn to laugh. “There are no registers of a woman this tall… Not in
London, at least.” He said. Suddenly, his gaze changed into a different one;
one that (Y/N) hadn’t ever seen on him. “You did wonderfully, dear.”
think so?” (Y/N) inquired.
“Yes, I do.”
Sherlock extended a hand to caress her cheek for two seconds before going back
to minding his own business. “I’ll be downstairs.”
(Y/N) whispered as Sherlock walked and disappeared through the door. “I’ll just
wait here, then.”
seconds of silence passed, and suddenly Sherlock’s face appeared again. “You
can come.” He said.
Again, she pointed at herself.
Sherlock insisted, “I wouldn’t be able to finish this case without you, dear.”
He winked at her before disappearing once more. “Bring the shoe!”
her lip happily and took the shoe before running downstairs. It was the first
time Sherlock asked for her help on a case, and it wouldn’t be the last time.
I have seen similarities between my cat and Jim Moriarty since day one. My cat scratches and bites everyone for fun. That’s her idea of fun. Jim likes to blow up people for fun (and haunt Sherlock’s brain). He comes in uninvited in people’s rooms, like all cats do. He plays with stuff he shouldn’t play with. He tries to knock objects Sherlock off shelves roofs/cliffs. Cats are total criminal masterminds, and so is Jim.
He seems to have 9 lives as well. He survived getting shot in the head, and who knows how many other things. And he always lands on his feet. Did you see how masterfully he escaped getting sent to prison after his trial?
My brother has the brain of a scientist or a philosopher, yet he elects to be a detective. What might we deduce about his heart?
I don’t know.
Neither do I. But initially he wanted to be a pirate.
First of all, let’s just assume that Mycroft knew very well what they could deduce, otherwise he wouldn’t bother saying this to John. Most importantly, Steven Moffat knows exactly what Mycroft meant to say, since he wrote the script. Consequently, Mycroft tries to tell something to John without saying it straight out.
But what does Mycroft - Mr Moffat - mean?
A philosopher and a scientist are the seekers of what we ‘d call objective truth. Frequently, philosophers and scientists frown upon personal needs, desires and sentiment (heart) because they believe they will make them deviate from the understanding of objective truth.
Sherlock ‘s got a mind as brilliant as one of a philosopher or scientist. However, in spite of being a graduate chemist, it’s not the acquisition of knowledge itself that excites him. The more knowledgeable he is, the easier it becomes to solve a case. This is apparent in TGG. Sherlock is completely indifferent towards the fields of science which aren’t useful for his job, for what he enjoys to do the most (one of the reasons I always considered him a Slytherin rather than a Ravenclaw, just saying).
And his job is a detective. A detective also seeks truth, but not a factual - objective - universal - scientific truth. He seeks truth in order to restore justice. That’s why John considers Sherlock a hero - Sherlock denies being one, but if he didn’t have a strong sense of righteousness, he could have picked something else instead of chasing criminals. He could become the next great mind of 21st century or make an invention that would earn him fame, money and global gratitude. But he didn’t.
Also, there is a great chance that the people who deny great values that are attributed to them are the ones who possess those values the most. Sherlock refused being humble in A Study in Pink, yet in The Sign of Three he said in a large audience that he never expected to be anyone’s friend. What sort of arrogance is that? Sherlock has built a wall around him, he wears the mask of the arrogant, mysterious and distant, but deep inside he is a very soft, emotional, humble, moral being. I think he denied being a hero to John, because he simply can’t believe himself being a hero and moreover because he is afraid that he will eventually fail John. As John builds up higher and higher expectations, Sherlock feels inadequate and fears John will end up disappointed and leave. The good news is John never believed his words, but he believed in his soul. John Watson is far more intelligent than he ‘s given credit for.
But initially he wanted to be a pirate.
The pirates are people of doubtable morals, usually criminals who lead dangerous and unpredictable lives. But Sherlock was fascinated by them when he was a kid. The kids only know about their charm and appeal. What is the charm of a pirate? That he sleeps without knowing what ‘ll happen next, he sails wherever his heart desires, he acquires what he wants and lives without planning. Also, in kids’ imagination pirates frequenty have heroic motives. A pirate might use his mind when he wants to form a battle strategy, in all other occasions he follows only his heart. (I am always talking about a child’s perspective of pirates.) There are not such things as scientific truth or acquisition of knowledge for a pirate. The only thing that matters is his heart’s desire.
Consequently, I think that what Mycroft tried to tell John was that Sherlock doesn’t have a great mind. Sherlock Holmes has a great mind AND a great heart. Actually, judging by the fact that Sherlock dreamed to be a pirate and he was a very sensitive kid (third season), Mycroft might as well mean that Sherlock Holmes has an even greater heart than mind.
Growing up, a victim of a serious emotional trauma (as I suspect), Sherlock decided to prioritize his mind first instead of his heart as an act of self-protection. However, it’s impossible for him to completely ignore his heart’s desires, so he chose the middle ground. He had all the good will to study chemistry, but he wasn’t interested enough in something so brainy to actually make a living out of it. He became a detective in order to take the risk and live the adventure. To beat bad people. Restore justice for the weak. And, of course, in order to study people, their emotions and motives. Sherlock is indeed a very human, human being and John was once again spot on.
Symbolism in Sherlock: Birds, Trees and Butterflies
Something that caught my attention a while ago is that many wallpapers,
cups and other objects in Sherlock have a bird and tree pattern and
there are also a few butterfly designs. It could be a coincidence since
they are very common motifs but I had a closer look at these recurring
motifs for fun and think that there were some interesting findings, so I
decided to share this. There are a few other motifs that will be
addressed here as well (e.g. apples and clowns on Rosie’s wall), but the
focus of my post will be on trees, birds and butterflies.
I’ve been organising my docs and finally created a folder for fic projects or fragments to either do something with or delete. It’s been… interesting.
Due to this spring cleaning, there will be an influx of strange ficlets that I’ve began to finish, starting with “glue”, which might have been the least strange one.
Other half-finished findings include things such as fire!lock PWP, a drabble about how the source material behind learning how to kiss will affect you, a reflection about how interchangeable Sherlock might feel in a hospital bed, a ficlet exploration of different sensory neurons in skin, ficlet about John throwing his gun into the Thames, an outline for the infamous bohemian!lock fic where Sherlock ‘feels’ objects and another musing on ADHD and sex.
Sometimes I can really see why I never continued with some of these ideas…
When we meet Sholto in TSoT we can easily extrapolate that John and him had some sort of romantic involvement in the past. The situation, their behaviour and those of others around them all go to show that they’d had (or still have) feelings for each other.
I think that in TBB we get a similar, if more subtle, version of this. When looking at the same factors as with John and Sholto, I think we can see the similarities. If we think of the idea of, ‘softy, softly’, it’s in part about a gradual reveal of the romance. By episode 2 we were not ready to see a past romantic interest of Sherlock’s in as explicit way as we see Jolto in episode 8.
Jolto allows us to look back at Seblock with a new, critical eye. What if we’ve already seen a glimpse into Sherlock’s past romantic history and we’ve missed it?
One party sends an invitation to the other,
Both are seen in a laptop at Baker Street. Both are pondered over, tensely. In Sebastian’s e-mail we see a similar plea to one that John effectively makes of Sherlock, ‘do this, for me’. Cropping makes key aspects of Sebastian’s message ambiguous, how intimate or personal this message is remains unclear. John’s invitation reveals something about him that he’d like to remain hidden.
They walk over, beaming, out of focus, their mouths open,
The party who sent the invitation is, “very, very”, happy to see the other party. Both still look sexually attracted via their eyebrow lifts and open mouths,
The invited looks glad also but is more guarded. Their face is carefully tender, their eyes soft,
(An ampersand [&] harks back to the theme of couplehood. Was there ever a point when it was, ‘Sherlock & Sebastian’, as this visual implies?)