they look like holmes and watson

From now on I want to narrate every Sherlock interview as if I'm Lemony Snicket

“If we pull this off, it’ll be television history!” Amanda said, gleefully. Amanda should not have said this, and she certainly should not have said it gleefully. What Amanda should’ve said instead is “This season includes a very talented actress who will surely impress you all.” However poor Amanda did not say this. And several months later she certainly regretted her mistake.

~

Sue’s eyes widened in shock. They did not widen in shock because Amanda had spoiled the plot of the show, or because Amanda had just hinted at what may happen in the upcoming season, but rather because Amanda had just told a massive, whopping, great big lie. And Sue was shocked.

~

“Love conquers all,” Benedict smiled sappily. Benedict did not, of course, mean “Sherlock’s romantic love of another person and their love of him conquers all their problems this season,” but rather, “In my opinion Sherlock Holmes and John Watson have been in love for over a century and I believe it is only right that they should be allowed to love each other and that I should kiss Martin.”

~

Steven hid his head in his hands. Steven did this because he thought Benedict was being cheesy and romantic, however it seemed to the audience like he did this because Ben had just given away a major point of the plot. Steven should be more careful about how his body language portrays his feelings.

~

Mark looked like he wanted to kill Benedict. This was not unusual, however. Mark always looked like he wanted to kill Benedict. And Steven. And everyone, in fact. Mark liked to think about murder.

~

“This is the best season yet,” Steven said. He was lying. I know he was lying because in reality it was filled with plot holes and glowing pictures and boys who eat out of dog bowls. But I’m not a rude person, so I left Steven to his ignorance.

~

“Who you really are, it doesn’t matter,” Mark typed. Mark should not have typed this. In fact, I wanted to hit Mark with a big stick and tell him ‘who you are REALLY matters’ but Mark would not have listened. Mark thinks he is smarter than me. He is clearly not. But who he is still matters.

~

“I’ll die if Johnlock doesn’t happen,” a TJLCer sobbed as she typed on her laptop. “RIP,” Mark replied. He did not do this to be funny. He did this because he can be a massive twat sometimes. This was one of those times. 


 ~ 


 "I don’t know, I don’t know, I’m just in it!” Martin squeaked. He was not trying to hide a secret, as many believed. Martin was just genuinely baffled by the new season. And by baffled I mean ‘had no idea what the plot was, what the point was, what his character was suppose to be doing and why he didn’t get to kiss Benedict.’

I love how in ACD Canon Watson is like.. “My beautiful charming talented friend Holmes..who has long limbs..and I like looking at him..he has this extraordinary mind..He is so good..I like him so much.. I can write pages and pages about him..wait that’s what I do…..whoops I forgot I have a wife I think.. And I am 60% certain she is at her mom’s.”

8

Sherlock Holmes- Adventure of the Opera Ghost

written by Steve Jones, illustrated by Aldin Baroza   (part 1)

funny story I was listening to classic fm earlier and the radio presenter was like ‘this next piece of music is related to Sherlock Holmes somehow, see if you can work out how’ and this beautiful romantic string piece came on, it was exquisite, and I was like he’s gonna say it’s related to Irene or some shit, but when it finished he said it was the music from the concert that Holmes and Watson attend in the Red Headed League (one of my favourite canon stories) where Holmes sits and gets lost in the music and Watson spends the whole time staring at Holmes like 'wow, look at how much he loves this’ and yeah. ACD intentionally wrote that as romantically as it could have been.

Rosie sat on the floor, looking up at the scene around her with wide eyes, probably not taking anything in.

Sherlock and Mycroft were yelling at each other. Molly was holding some toys in front of her face to get her distracted from it, but she just watched with rapt attention as the brothers bickered.

John was at his laptop at the desk, ignoring the scene completely - it was one he had seen hundreds of times. It had lost it’s interest after the second.

Rosie opened her mouth and started making noises.

Molly put the toy down and waved John over.

“I think she’s starting to talk.”

“M-” Rosie choked out the M sound. By now both Mycroft and Molly were smiling - Mycroft’s rather bored, like he was doing it only because he thought he had to - and Sherlock looked on like he was watching at tennis match between the three. John nodded his head at her.

“Yeah Rose?”

“M-M-”

“Molly? Are you trying to say Molly?” she said to the young girl.

“M-Mu-”

Sherlock laughed as if he knew something the others didn’t. John didn’t have the time to be suspicious as he tried to coax his daughter into saying her first word.

“M-Mu-Murd-”

By now John was looking at Sherlock. “You didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t.”

Sherlock smirked. “Oh, but I did.”

Rosie clapped her hands on the floor.

“Murder!”

anonymous asked:

John realises how selflessly Sherlock takes care of Rosie, and it helps him realise that Sherlock is actually a person truly and completely capable of loving. Much more than any other person he has ever known.

John and Rosie have been living back at Baker Street for two months when Rosie starts crying in the middle of the day.  John is up to his elbows in soapy water at the sink, trying to clean all the dishes from the mess that was lunch, and Sherlock has been sitting at his microscope for the past hour, hardly moving, working on some experiment or another.  John knows better than to attempt to ask him to help with the dishes when he’s so engrossed.  

Rosie just sits in the middle of the sitting room, screaming.

John curses and, in his haste, he accidentally drops one of the sippy cups, successfully spilling water all over the floor.  He sighs and leans down to pick it up, chucking it back in the sink and throwing a towel down over the spill.  He’ll have to clean it up later, after he calms Rosie down.  It isn’t until he’s almost got his hands completely dry, however, that he realizes Rosie has stopped yelling.

He looks over and almost drops the towel.  Sherlock is standing by the window, Rosie curled up in his arms.  He’s got his lips pressed against her head, and he’s murmuring quiet words that John can’t hear.  Rosie hiccups and takes deep, shuddering breaths, her fists curled into Sherlock’s robe.  After a few minutes, she lays her head down on his shoulder.

John doesn’t know how long he stands there staring at them, and he can’t quite pinpoint why the image of them together like that is making his chest hurt.  He’s seen them play together in the past couple of months; he’s seen Sherlock play Rosie the violin; he’s seen Sherlock read to her.  John’s eyes slide back to the microscope at the table where Sherlock’s abandoned slides and samples sit. 

It wasn’t that he thought Sherlock was selfish enough to ignore a screaming baby in favour of his experiments.  But…Sherlock had been known to tune out almost everything when he was working.  He’d even tuned out the fire alarm once when Mrs. Hudson had accidentally set her stove on fire.  John had had to drag him out of the flat.

But somehow, at the first sign of Rosie’s distress, Sherlock had been pulled from his work.  And now, as John watches, he thinks about all of the other times Sherlock has done something like that in the past few months, smaller things that John hadn’t quite taken note of at the time.  Ignoring texts from Lestrade; coming home with new nappies when John hadn’t even realized they were almost out; emerging from his mind palace when Rosie climbed up onto the sofa with him.  Little things that seemed so small and yet weren’t.

John swallows hard, setting the rag aside, and that’s when Sherlock looks up at him, just the ghost of a smile gracing his features.  John smiles back, and his throat feels tight because Sherlock is happy like this.  He’s content with John’s child in his arms, rocking her until she’s calm, abandoning his own wants for hers.

Rosie falls asleep in Sherlock’s arms, and he takes her upstairs to put her into her crib.  When he comes back down John has made up his mind, and he’s never seen Sherlock look so shocked as when John kisses him right then and there.

Check out this gorgeous mirroring in TBB, the episode that never fails to show you something you hadn’t seen before… note the mannequin behind Andy in the background, looking like Soo Lin (Sherlock’s mirror), reaching out to Andy (John’s mirror), through glass <3 <3 <3 (Read this mind-blowing piece of meta about the character mirrors in TBB if you haven’t already)

  • Watson: Gosh! It's so weird how every time I go visit Mary Morstan, Holmes is agitated and miserable when I return. And he doesn't seem to be sleeping or eating. He must be really wrecked about this case.
  • Holmes: *looks into the camera like he's on The Office*
#SherlockLives: The Resurrection

The day is April 23rd, 2017.  It’s an ordinary Sunday afternoon in London.

The crowd bustles, trains whirr, birds chirp.

Life in the city is business as usual.

Three teenage girls take photographs outside 187 North Gower Street, soaking in the ambiance of the Sherlock set.  They step into Speedy’s for a cup of coffee.

The women lament over the loss of their favorite show. On March 8th, the BBC announced Sherlock would not be returning for a fifth series, and cowriters Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss were quick to assure their fans that it was time to lay the beloved program to rest.

But what the women saw next changed their lives forever.

Keep reading

2

MULTIFANDOM CHALLENGE || (5/50) Male Characters » John Watson

“You’re not haunted by the war, Dr. Watson. You miss it.”

3

rock pools

thegameissomething requested: Sherlock and John took a case at the coast, when it was solved John persuaded Sherlock to say on for a day or two. Once he’d found the rock pools on the beach, they ended up staying for a week. John will always remember the sight of Sherlock stood in a pool, grinning, his hair wild, with his trousers rolled up, holding out a crab for him to look at. A headcanon a day 25/365

A recap of what Sherlollians have been gifted with by the creators of Sherlock:

  • Not one, but two emotionally charged cheek kisses. By Sherlock “married-to-my-work” Holmes, no less
  • A swoon-worthy fantasy kiss (I don’t care if that kiss didn’t actually happen, it was hot)
  • Sherlock sincerely apologizing to Molly after hurting her during ASiB
  • In the same scene, Sherlock being jealous of himself because he thought Molly had finally gotten over him
  • “You can see me.” “I don’t count.” Cue Sherlock looking appalled that Molly thinks she doesn’t matter to him
  • “You do count. You’ve always counted and I’ve always trusted you.”
  • “What do you need?” “You.”
  • Sherlock inviting Molly out to solve cases with him, prompting the most date-like non-date I’ve ever seen on television
  • Sherlock Holmes telling Molly that she’s “the one person that mattered the most” just before revealing she’s engaged and letting her go (*sobs*)
  • Molly teasing Sherlock about her love life in the lab
  • Sherlock asking Molly for advice and relying on her to help him with experiments
  • Molly and Sherlock being co-godparents of Rosie Watson, and acting like a cute, old married couple at the christening
  • John Watson, not exactly known for his observational skills, calling Molly Hooper to test Sherlock when John suspected he was high, admitting that Molly sees through Sherlock better than anyone, including him
  • Sherlock making suggestive comments to Molly whilst high during TLD ;D
  • Molly joining John and Sherlock for cake on Sherlock’s birthday
  • “I love you”
  • Sherlock absolutely losing it because he thought he’d hurt Molly and ruined their relationship forever
  • Molly waltzing into 221B like the queen she is, looking right at home and beaming wider than we’ve ever seen on the show

I’m sure I’ve missed some (I typed this up really quickly off the top of my head), so feel free to add on!

Hopping out of the cabbie you breathed in London’s air. It had been a while since you last visited the city; let alone Baker Street. Surely Ms. Hudson would be surprised that you decided to visit her or be upset that you don’t see her enough. Work had taken you all over the world, but most recently the States. It was fun in New York, but you missed that dear old woman whom you grew to know as your aunt. You pushed the buzzer and waited anxiously. The door opened revealing an overly ecstatic Ms. Hudson.

“Oh Y/N love, I can’t believe you’re here! Come in, come in! I’ll put the kettle on, make you a cuppa.” 

“Thank you Aunt Louise, I’ll take it as you’re happy to see me?” You asked her laughing.

“Oh my dear love, always! I hadn’t got groceries yet. You know, I’ll do that now. Make you a nice breakfast. Up the stairs and to the left, you can see if there are any biscuits. Probably not, but worth a try.”

“No it is fine, don’t put yourself through the trouble. I had something to eat on the plane.” 

“Ohh I bet it was no good. I’ll be right back love.” Before you could intervene again, Ms. Hudson was out the door.  She was right, airplane food was never good. You thought biscuits would be great with tea, so you made your way up the stairs and into the dusty kitchen. “Never heard of a dusting rag I suppose.” You thought to yourself. You rummaged through the cabinets until you found what you were seeking.

“Here we go.” You pulled them out of the drawer and before you could place them down you heard someone walk in. “Well that was quick, I found the bis-.“ You stopped talking when you turned around. Two men were standing there stunned.

“Who exactly are you?” The smaller man asked.

“A guest visiting family. My Aunt Louise, I’m sure you know her as Ms. Hudson.”

“Ms. Hudson? She has family?” The man asked his friend who was staring intensively at you.

“Well yes.” You cut in. “She and my grandmother are friends. I grew up with Ms. Hudson as my Aunt.“ You answered looking at the two.

“How was the flight?” The taller man asked finally releasing his intense stare at you.

“It was fine, thanks for asking.” You replied proceeding to get a biscuit.

“New York was it? 6:30 flight non-stop?”

“Yup, that is right.”

“And your dog, I’m assuming you put him in a kennel while you’re away?”

She’s with some friends.” You said correcting him.

“Oh well common mistake.” He replied rolling his eyes.

“It would appear so.”

“Aren’t you at all surprised that he can do this?”

“Oh please John, no need.”

“No really Sherlock.”

“Do you guys always do this?” You asked laughing.

“Do what?” Sherlock cut in.

“Talk to each other like no one is listening?”

They both looked at one another for a second before back at you.

“To answer your question John; no I’m not. Anyone is readable if you pay attention.” You replied before grabbing your things and heading for the door.

“Then read me.” Sherlock answered. You took in a breath and turned around.

“Serious?” Instead of speaking he just raised an eyebrow. “Ok then.” You put your things down and got a quick all over glance at him.

“I see a man who is estranged from his family; someone who prefers be alone. You do visit them on holidays, like it or not. You have an older brother whom you like to compete with. You claim to not have friends, although many people consider you theirs. You may have been in love once, but it didn’t work out. Let’s not get too much into that seeing that you don’t care for it. You’re a detective, very good one at that. This could be the reason why you get on people’s nerves. Some might even say you’re a psychopath – no a high-functioning sociopath. I mean the way you guys were bickering downstairs before you came up here says so. That not cheating by the way, that’s listening. You also smoke cigarettes, which is a nasty habit might I add. Even though you don’t do it every day, it’s still bad for you… You see anyone is readable Sherlock. As long as you pay close attention, you could tell a lot about a person.” Both of the men stood there shocked with their mouths slightly open.

“I’m going to say that I was pretty accurate, yeah?” You said nodding your head.

“Y-you got that from John’s blogs didn’t you?”

“Ahhh, there it is!” You said throwing your head back.

“What?” Sherlock asked furrowing his eyebrows.

“There’s a blog; confirmation of yours and John’s relationship.”

“We’re not gay!” John said throwing his hands in the air.

“I didn’t say that. Just that there is a very strong relationship between the two of you; virtually indestructible. You guys are each other’s’ best friend, am I right?”

“You got that from me mentioning a blog? Sherlock look at you weird.

“Well you didn’t need to say that the blog was about the two of you for me to guess that. You kind of said it yourself.” You replied smiling. They were both standing there speechless when you grabbed your things once more. “It was nice meeting the two of you, really it was. Maybe we can go out for dinner, the five of us.”

“Five?…” John asked confused.

“Well you’re married and expecting aren’t you John?!” You yelled going down the stairs. When John turned to look at Sherlock, he saw him smiling.

“I like her; she actually makes very good use of her head.” Sherlock said keeping his eyes forward.

“Remember my middle name is Hamish.” John laughed quietly heading for his chair.