what do i do now without sherlock

It’s just been brought to my attention that there are rumors being started and spread by manipulative members of our own meta-fandom saying that vocal bloggers are being contacted by the BBC and are instructed to be quiet because Sherlock isn’t over. My name’s come up as one of those contacted to keep the secret. Yeah, this isn’t true at all. You’re being played, again. As much as I’d love for that to be true, it’s not. No one on here has secret information from TPTB. No one. Bringing my name into it in order to gather followers to what might be the farthest-reaching conspiracy yet is actually insane. Do i believe we might get more footage? Yes i do. Do i know when? Obviously not, I’m a rando with a Sherlock blog that writes meta as a hobby. I have never supported any secret online ARG theory and I never will. I was crucified back in mid January for having the audacity to suggest the concept of a secret episode based on 50 different facts spanning 130 years of content, but now it’s totally okay for people to blindly follow fake ARGs into oblivion without so much as a thought to check the sources? What’s happened to this Fandom? Where are the priorities?

The fact that I’m listed as part of an ARG because i took a hiatus just shows how desperate fans are to believe the show’s creators and distributors care about the inner workings of a tiny online community because they are awfully quiet. I took a hiatus because Internet life is exhausting and I have pressing in-person priorities that supercede anything on here. Much like the creators of this show. They are quiet because they want to be. Because they have a lot of waiting to do.

Don’t. Get. Caught. Up. In. Fake. ARGs.


PT.1| PT.2| PT.3| PT.4| PT.5| PT.6| PT.7| PT.8| PT.9| PT.10| PT.11| PT.12

The first thing John thinks when he rolls over is He’s naked.

Sherlock Holmes was naked in his bed. He was fast asleep, lying on his stomach, bare ass exposed, the sheets only covering one of his legs. The sunlight crept in through the closed curtains. It shone on him and made him look like an angel. His mouth hung open slightly, every other breath was a snore, his curls fell haphazardly on his face. His afterglow was beautiful.

The second thing John thinks is He’s naked, but god is he gorgeous.

Sherlock sighs softly and paws at his face. John looks at his own body. He was naked, but his sheet covered his lower regions. He looked up at the ceiling and smiled. He had never felt that intimate with anyone, sorry Mary. That was more than sex, it was more than lust. They made love last night. It was wonderful and everything John thought it would be. Sherlock’s moans, his whimpers, the way his face looked when he finally came. It was too beautiful for words. John looked back over at the brunet, and rested a hand on his back. His skin was so soft, he worried that if he held him too tight he would bruise. And that arse. Dear god above, what a perfect thing it was. Plump, firm, it made John salivate just thinking about it. He wanted to do more with Sherlock last night, but the poor man had never had sex before and he didn’t want to scare him from the act altogether. That was the thing with Sherlock, you couldn’t rush things, it all had to be slow, it had to progress in stages.

For Sherlock, John would wait forever. His love, his life.

His hand moves to the mess of curls and runs his fingers through them, careful not to wake Sherlock. The man lets out a soft moan and John grins. In all regards he was beautiful.

He wanted nothing more but to lay in bed, watching this man sleep, but the day awaited, Rosie was due to cry at any moment. He had work. He had half a mind to call in sick.

“Love, wake up. Come on Sherlock.”

His eyes fluttered open and immediately his mouth curled into a smile. He whispered, “Good morning.” and kissed John. John moaned into the kiss, he wanted him so bad. He loved him so much. Sherlock pulled away and rested his head on John’s chest, the hair tickling his cheek.

“Good morning my love.”

“I like that word.” Sherlock said, his eyes closed and his hand rubbing John’s stomach.

“What word?”

“Don’t be daft, John, you know what word.”


Sherlock chuckled and shook his head. “No.”

“Then it must be ‘what’.”

“It’s not that either.”

“Well now you must tell me, I’m afraid I’m at a loss.” John was teasing him now.

“Love, John. I like it when you call me love.”  Sherlock’s voice was so gentle, he sounded like a child. John’s breath hitched in his throat.

“Do you? I guess I’ll have to call you that more often, won’t we?”

“Yes, I guess you do.”

Sherlock’s head was close enough that John could kiss it without much effort. He did, and then he stroked it. He looked at his clock. It was time for him to get ready. Rosie started crying.

“Come love, the day awaits us.”

John tapped Sherlock’s shoulder for him to move over so he could sit up. Sherlock laid, one arm propped under his head, watching a very naked John make his way to his closet. Silence fell in the room, but it was comfortable. They were comfortable.

The third thing that John thought was He’s naked, but god he’s gorgeous and I love him.


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The girl who tried to save the Holmes  - Sherlock x reader / Mycroft x reader

Originally posted by smoljohnlock

AN: Requested by @whoolemilk (it won’t let me tag you for some reason) I might change a little bit of it later on but for now, here ye are!

Summary: “can you write something from The Final Problem where Sherlock has to decide between shooting Mycroft, John, and the reader and the reader is trying to convince him to shoot her - something in that scenario?”

Word count: 1,547

Warnings: Some strong language, Slight Sherlock x reader, slight Mycroft x reader, angst, talk of death, you have to go though this painful as shit scene from the final problem again

There you were, stood in between Mycroft, John, Sherlock and a gun. Wondering how the hell you got yourself into this situation. 

It was your own fault. You insisted you come to with the boys to see their sister, Eurus. 

However a visit had turned into a hell hole of an experience rather quickly. Eurus had been challenging you all through little twisted games. Threatening and killing and toying with you all. 

Sherlock got it worst. That’s who Eurus actually wanted to hurt; to break. 

“Hey, Sis, don’t mean to complain, but this one’s empty. What happened, did you run out of ideas?” Sherlock asked as he moved into the next room. You and the others close on his heels.

“It’s not empty, Sherlock. You’ve still got the gun, haven’t you? I told you you’d need it, because only three can play the next game. Just three of you go on from here. Your choice, it’s make-your-mind-up time. Whose help do you need the most, John, (Y/n) or Mycroft? It’s an elimination round. You choose two and kill the other. You have to choose, family or friends. Mycroft, sweet little (y/n) or John Watson?” Eurus’s words made you go cold. Elimination. Kill

Keep reading

Boyfriend does my makeup w/ Yuta
  • heyyyyyyy
  • i really enjoy doing this series, lol
  • i’m so hungry right now~~
  • lmao, let’s start right away
  • soooo,,,, 
  • it was probably a weekend and it was early in the morning
  • you woke up because yuta was spamming your phone non stop with texts and calls
  • “tf do you want yuta”
  • “aw, i missed you a lot too baby”
  • this idiot istg, you were angry already and decided to ignore him and keep sleeping
  • “i’m outside your house, can you open the door for me”
  • “plz y/n it’s getting cold and i don’t have my jacket”
  • “i brought food for your lazy ass so don’t be rude to your boyfriend”
  • you finally woke up from bed and opened the door for him
  • you seem adorable because of your bed hair and your sleepy and angry face
  • his heart melted because of your cuteness dfghjklñ
  • and the next second you had him over you hugging you and leaving kisses all over your face
  • lmao
  • long short story after a while you calmed down and both of you spent the whole morning cuddling and eating breakfast together in bed<33
  • and y’all were so comfy and warm that even once both of you finished eating yall didn’t move from bed
  • yall keep cuddling and hugging each other for hours and startted to watch youtube videos bc why not
  • and suddenly he was like
  • “what?”
  • “that video, click that one”
  • and guess what
  • yes, it was a my boyfriend does my makeup challenge video
  • “oh no”
  • but it was too late now, yuta already saw it and he would do the impossible for doing your make up
  • “y/nnnnn~~~”
  • “pretty please!!~”
  • “i’ll do whatever you want for like 7 hours if you let me do this”
  • “i’ll take you out for lunch if you want to but pleaSE”
  • and of couse you ended up accepting, lol
  • he almost regret it when he saw all your products and shit
  • but no, we’re talking about manly yuta here. mountain man nakamoto yuta and he’s not going to fuck this up
  • the whole time, most than anything he guide himself by obvious things
  • like reading every single product and grabbing anything that was of the color of your skintone first
  • he would also flirt a lot w you in the process
  • “you’re so lucky, look at you having a really handsome expert doing your make up”
  • “your eyes are so pretty, wow”
  • “you look even more beautiful without make up, please know that”
  • and if in any moment you would start feeling flustered he would get really confident and start making kissing faces and smiling at you
  • “okay so now i just need to do your eyes and then put blush and then lipstick, right?”
  • “no shit, sherlock”
  • and he spent a lot of fucking time deciding the color of your eyeshadow
  • believe me and you were so nervous bc what if he chooses something crazy omg no
  • and, tbh i’m at least a 23% sure that he would choose pink, in any shade but pink
  • and if it wasn’t for you he would only choose one color but you were like vRO NO
  • and since you had your eyes closed he stole like a hundred of pecks from you
  • “yuta! stop doing that!”
  • “but you like it! look! your cheeks are so red that we don’t even need blush anymore”
  • and in that moment you were so close to slap him in the face, lmao
  • and then he actually guide himself for your naturally blushed cheeks to apply the blush on your face, lol
  • and, oh my god, when he did your lips, oh god
  • he would make you puck your lips and steal kisses from you the whole time
  • even once he aplied the lipstick, he kissed you and fucked everything up and had to appy more lipstick
  • and in the end the pink lipstick was more noticeable in his lips han in yours lmao
  • “i guess we finished baby”
  • “i’ll let you choose my outfit tomorrow and hopefully you’ll look just as good as me”
  • jfc this boi
  • and that day he took you everywhere to show you up asdfjvbn
  • to eat, to 127′s practice, to the dorms, to eat again, he spent the whole day looking at your face and making sure everyone knew about how pretty u are
  • he was really proud of how well his makeup turned up lmao
  • even if the eyeshadow was a bit messy and he amy applied a bit too much of blush and the lipstick was gone now
  • he still thought that you looked really beautiful
  • well, after all, you’re always looking perfect in his eyes <3
  • okay, and the end lol
  • sorry if it was bad??? lol

anonymous asked:

Just random queastions. 1.) Do you think, that they maybe changed their mind after the reaction to the withanaccent-interview and felt so insulted, that they decided, to not make Johnlock canon after all? 2.) The tarmac-scene has some big similaritis to a scene in DW (don´t know what to say; question about the future; last chance to say "it") and is just built up like a love confession-scene. Do you think that maybe TPTB didn´t notice this? Or really thought it was funny? I´m so confused... tbc

3.)Benedict seems to be such a nice person (I love Martin even more, but he is not so outwardly caring.) etc. and i just can´t imagine him agreeing to queerbaiting? (I find most of “TJLC-Evidence” not very convincing, because I would also die etc. for a friend, but the tarmac-scene is imo queerbaiting/almost love confession. They HAVE TO notice what the scene implies!?). 4.)They always say it is their show etc. and that they don´t care about critics, do they really think of themself as SO GOOD?

5.) They said, that ACD did a mistake with Mary. Why do they do the same? I completly hate that dog-comperison/Mary-is-better-scene (TST is my least favoruite episode). It had to be a active descision to give Mary the narration over John ( THE ACTUAL NARRATOR!). They can´t just ignore all the terrible things they say about Mary and make her some angel asassian who saves John/Sherlock and is better than everyone?! And she is there the WHOLE TIME! She killed Sherlock! Why? Why? Why? For Amanda???

6.) There is that Amanda Abbington-Interview where she talks about coming back. Do you really thing that we´ll maybe have to see Mary-flashbacks/callbacks in every new episode? 7.) Prior to season 4, they said that they have 3 new cases etc., but in the end it wasn´t really like in season 1-2 (season 3 actually was my favorite season, but it clearly was different). TST and TFP ended in family drama. Do you trust them to go back to “normal” cases, without the need to over complicate everything?

8.)Do you think, that they maybe change their mind “pro-johnlock”(if it really was just a joke to them), after critics like Indiewire etc. called them out for the queerbaiting/John and Sherlocks feelings for eachother? That maybe they´ll realize that it´s not just “teenager girls” “hallucinating”? 9.)Do you believe in a season 5 (especially with BC as DS now)? 10.)Will we ever know, what John wanted to say in TRF? 11.)With TFP i wonder,do they truly believe we watch the show for the plot twists?

Oh Wow, Lots of stuff to get to here! Let’s have a look-see!

  1. Well, that interview would have had nothing to do with any of their decisions; if a journalist had that kind of power in the history of Sherlock ever, then it would have been canon in S2, or ahdblock been canon in S3, or sher/0//ie canon in episode one. Like… no, and that interview was garbage anyway. Anything that Mofftiss have done, is COMPLETELY on them and MAYBE the BBC. They were already filming TFP, I believe, around that time frame, so no, it had no bearing whatsoever on the outcome of the series.
  2. Ah, yup, Doomsday’s Bad Wolf Bay and the tarmac scene are pretty much identical (and just as painful), yet no one argues what The Doctor was going to say. But years later, we STILL have to prove to people that Sherlock indeed was going to and did tell John that he loved him. It drives me crazy. Mofftiss knew EXACTLY what they were doing, especially since the scene has parallels to the tarmac scene’s unspoken love in Casablanca. They did it on purpose; it’s even framed similarily to that tarmac, and the wording similar to Bad Wolf Bay. Just… They can’t seriously expect us to not believe it wasn’t meant romantically.
  3. Well, to be fair, I don’t think EITHER OF THEM wanted to be part of a giant queerbaiting fest. They both seemed immensely proud of their portrayals of their characters, Ben AND Martin played both of their characters gay and bi respectively, and BOTH men support LGBT causes and Ben is vocal against homophobia (I’m pretty sure Martin is as well, I just know Ben’s interviews better). I really honestly believe that they thought they were creating something different and were led to believe a different outcome of their character arcs than what we got. I don’t fault them at all – they are just puppets for the puppetmasters.
  4. Oh, they’re lying so hard about their lack of caring… If they didn’t care, Gattiss wouldn’t have written back, in prose, to a critic and Moffat wouldn’t be like “I don’t understand why no one likes this season” (paraphrasing, of course, but his blasé attitude is SO annoying and pretentious). Neither of them have really, otherwise, done anything but remain in hiding after the fallout of S4. It’s both suspicious and really REALLY annoyingly petty.
  5. Yeah, I STILL am reeling over their complete 180˚ of Mary’s character. It makes no fucking sense; they clearly were combining her character with that of the role of Sebastian Moran in ACD canon, and the arc was going to be brilliant. I have a lot of personal very biased opinions on why they did it, but yeah, it doesn’t make any fucking sense. THEY KNEW WHAT THEY WERE DOING with her character. That and Moffat is terrible at writing women characters at the end of their arcs. If anything, her character was just unnecessarily shoehorned into a bigger role because they decided last minute to NOT make her Moran after all even though they STILL tied her character to Moriarty in S4. ACD did WAY better with Mary as a background character. And YES, it was SO WRONG of her to be the narrator, just… NO she’s NOT the one telling the stories. Ugh.
  6. Ugh, is there? Okay, look, IF – IFFFFF –  it’s shown in S5 that all of S4 was a ruse orchestrated by mostly her hand, reverting her character back to where it should be, THEN maybe I can accept her back in the fifth season and make her the badass villain she was SUPPOSED to be. I don’t believe she is dead because her gunshot was fake af, although I do ALSO believe that she may have been killed John in the false narrative scenario. If she comes back, it will be to explain her true actions in S4. Otherwise, she’s dead, we don’t need to see her anymore. Flashbacks maybe, but that’s it.
  7. S3 was my favourite season too, but I think that’s a personal bias because I love Sherlock’s character so much and I loved seeing how far their relationship arc progressed. T6T and TLD barely even HAD cases… and TFP, I don’t know her… so I don’t know where this idea came from. The whole season seemed intent on keeping John and Sherlock as distant from each other as possible, making Sherlock the sidekick TO MARY in his own show, and putting “no one asked for this” focus on Mary. Look, I know it sounds like I hate her, but I REALLY DON’T. I hate what they DID TO HER CHARACTER, and trying to call S4 a case-centred series when CLEARLY the case was a moot point in the first episode to Mary-backstory, it’s ridiculous. There wasn’t really a case in TLD – Sherlock was high off his rocker through most of the episode and Culverton did his weird creepy rapey thing. And I don’t even know what the fuck case was happening in TFP. I WANT to trust them to go back to Just The Two of Them Against the Rest of the World (what was that line even, then?!?!), but I fear that they won’t and will find a way to shoehorn another character-we-don’t-care-about *coughs* Eurus*coughs* into the story.
  8. Oh, I don’t think anyone could change Mofftiss’ minds. Look, if Johnlock DOES become canon, it will be because it was the plan all along, but because of how far S4 strayed off the narrative arc, it will look like they did it because of public outcry, NOT because it was their brilliant plan. They should have just stuck to the narrative rather than try for a publicity stunt that will probably work against them in the end.
  9. Tough to say about S5. There are reports about it being already commissioned, but I fear the negative reception may keep Martin and Ben far away from it if it turns out it really is a face-value series. I don’t know. BBC seems proud of what they got, so probably will get one. It’s one of the BBC’s top-rated shows (I think pre-S4 it was higher than Dr. Who), so who knows.
  10. Hahaha nope, I don’t think so. I USED to think we would, that Mofftiss were better writers together and would at least round out all the plot holes, but… S4 leaves me skeptical on a lot of things.
  11. I REALLY do think that they think we like the plot twists rather than the stories. Like… no. People were watching for the relationship, whether they knew it or not, platonic or not. The story of two men with the greatest friendship / relationship of all time. Not for … whatever the hell TFP was.


Everyones Eyes On You// Sherlock Holmes

Originally posted by fireshinigami

I’m going to try to release two requested and one of my own tonight.. . Hope everyone enjoys!

@noeypiiepiie : You’re the wife to Sherlock Holmes, who believe it or not is an insanely jealous man. The fact of the matter is, you are absolutely gorgeous and every man you pass out on the street seems to notice it, but you don’t.

Warnings: some men are creeps lol

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

  “Sherlock, throw on some clothes!” You exclaimed, gasping as he picked you up around your waist and your legs locked around his. “It’s actually nice out today and I’m dying to get out of this flat.” 

  “We have gotten out of the flat.” He muttered against your skin, his nose buried in your neck as his lips left warm kisses that sent chills down your spine. “Lucky enough for you, it seems as if I don’t have any cases that I care about today. Any where in particular you’d like to go?” 

You let out involuntary laughter as he let you fall onto the bed, his curls wild as he straddled your waist and pinned your hands above your head. It wasn’t often you got him to be so vulnerable, but you lived for every minute the man behind the stoic, emotionless mask came out. It had gotten more frequent since his involvement with Magnussen. “I don’t care where we go, Sherl.” You murmured quietly, studying his icy blue eyes inches away from your face. If you gazed hard enough, you could see the flecks of green and gold lurking near his pupils. “Just take me out on the town, please?” 

Had it been three years ago, Sherlocks reluctance to take you out on a date would’ve had a completely different reasoning. The real reason he never took you out into public (normally more secluded areas) was because every time he did, men oggled you and it infuriated him beyond measure. Their eyes fell to places he wanted no one to see or touch. You were thin but had curves in just the right places, and it was one of the things he loved about you. It wasn’t just your body that Sherlock Holmes adored, it was also you as a person, in soul and heart altogether. 

You were craving chips and a new book from your favorite store down the street, and it was warm enough for you to wear your favorite y/f/c sundress, so you released your hair from its braid and quickly changed; leading to you dragging the Detective out of the flat. He grinned widely when you spun around on the sidewalk, the sunlight reflecting in your eyes and glowing against your skin. “I love you.” You breathed in awe, winking as a red hot blush crept up his face and caused him to cover it with his hands. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed, Mr. Holmes.” 

  “And you look positively radiant today my dear!” He exclaimed, extending his arm and nodding in the direction of the bookstore. “To the bookstore first?” 

You kept the conversation light and airy, talking about Mary’s pregnancy and her near due-date which you had promised her that the two of you would attend; the news of Moriarty and how utterly repulsed you were when Mycroft was around. It was the most fun the two of you had in weeks. 

Sherlock was doing his best to give you his undivided attention, but he continued to observe the wolf whistles and lustful stares from passersby which only made him clench his fists as rage replaced the calm in his bloodstream. You were just exiting the bookstore with a new copy of To Kill A Mockingbird when out of no where, a man not much older then yourself brushed past you and unfortunately for him, smacked your backside. 

   “Excuse me, you don’t get to-” You started, your jaw dropping as Sherlock parted from your side and lunged at the attacker, slamming him against the outside wall of the shop and pounding his fist into his jaw. There were very few times you’d seen Sherlock lash out at people; normally when he was high or angry, but never like this. The look in his eyes was not anger, but the want for blood. 

The man on the wall had a black eye, accompanied with a busted lip and broken nose as Sherlock Holmes grabbed the lapels of his coat and gripped them tightly. “You don’t ever look at my lady, touch my lady, or catcall my lady ever again. She is far more precious then a piece of meat.” He growled, his rant halted as your fingers weaved around his chest and linked together to pull him off the other man. “What are you doing?” 

  “You busted your hand. Let’s go clean it.” 

The owner of the shop hadn’t even noticed the situation until you were gone, now another block away and luckily without any witnesses to confirm Sherlock had nearly beaten a man to death. The Detective sat quietly outside the small medicinal shop as you brought out a brand new first aid kit and a cup of hot tea, sitting across from him and crossing your legs. “You can’t do stuff like this sweetheart. I get it infuriates you-” 

  “It makes me sick to my stomach.” 

  “This is what I’ve lived with since before we met. Normally I call the guy out and threaten to call the police, and it shuts him up instantly. Very efficient. It’s sweet that you defended me just like my knight in shining armor.” You blew lightly on the antiseptic and kissed the bridge of his knuckles. “It only makes me fall harder for you.” 

His gaze softened as you finished wrapping his hand, watching as he discarded the paper cup and followed you back out onto the sidewalk. Your heart sped up as Sherlock wrapped his arms around your waist, his head setting on top of yours and the two of you began to sway in sync as you waited for a cab. “You deserve to be treated like gold, my love.” Sherlock said. “I’m not about to let any man try to ruin your perception of self beauty. I think you’re divine.” 

You closed your eyes, guiding his hands to rest on top of your abdomen as the taxi pulled up to the curb. “I think you are a magnificent man and a wonderful lover.” You slid into the cab and motioned for him to sit beside you, giving the driver your destination. “And I think I’ll enjoy this day even more when we get to where we’re going.” 

Sherlocks eyes narrowed as the taxi slid to a stop on a bank where most of the visibility was concealed by underbrush and ironically enough, rose bushes. “Where are we?” 

  “My favorite place on the outskirts.” You said, lifting up the hem of your dress just enough to reveal the new baby blue bikini bottoms you’d bought last week. His pupils dilated as you pressed a finger to your lips and motioned for him to follow through the trees and underbrush to what he thought was a branch of the River Thames, but was actually a secluded lake on the outskirts of London. A clear lake sat in front of him, the water untouched by nature and clear enough to see the bottom. It was beautiful, but more importantly, it was silent. “It’s been a boring week, and I’m in need of some fun. Care to join me husband?” 

His fingers immediately started at the buttons of his dress shirt. 


Tag List

@gonnamurderyou @charlottemalfoy @foureyedsiopao @fourtyninekirbygamzeegirl

If you want to be tagged, please send me an ask and request to be tagged! I’m more then happy to do it!

Ok, but this scene , when we first watched it, we thought she was just a little psychopath teasing Sherlock by her little song, but now that we know what the song really means do you realize how painful this is? 

She wasn’t messing with Sherlock, She was asking for  h e l p

“I am lost, help me brother
 save my life
 before my doom I am
 lost without your love save
 my soul seek my room”

She was begging for Sherlock to save her soul

whenisayrunrun  asked:

Hello I wish you a wonderful day and 73 for the Drabble challenge please? Thank you x

I combined this ask with the next one, since they just flowed together again (sometimes it just happens).  It’s Tom-verse, and it’s OTT cliched and angsty, but it just fell out that way.  I mean, the low-hanging fruit is there, why not pick it?

“I’m pregnant.”/ “It sure as hell changes things!”/ “Are you drunk?”

“Are you drunk?”

No,” Sherlock said scornfully, unsure which John he should be focussing on.  "Yes,“ he admitted.

“It’s two in the afternoon, why are you drinking?  You never drink.”

“I’m pregnant, John.”

“Uh huh.”

Sherlock shook his head, trying to get the right words to fall out.  "We’re pregnant.  Not you-us” he waved his finger at the space between them.  "Molly is—" he made another series of gestures to indicate her state and, just in case John wasn’t sure how it got there, how it got there.

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noxlucum  asked:

I was just wondering who you think the "what a lady" song in TSOT is about. Because on one hand "I didn't even know her name" fits Mary perfectly but Sherlock and John engage in some very loaded eyesex at "hypnotising, mesmerising me" and that line also doesn't really fit Mary's and John's relationship. The idea of the song being about both Sherlock and Mary seems a bit odd... I'm just curious about your opinion on the matter. And you're amazing!

Hey Lovely!

It’s referencing Sherlock and John’s relationship, I think. It’s really really apparent that it’s about them when “Why’d it take so long to see the light?” plays as Sherlock sadly leaves the envelope for John on the stand. Actually, all the lyrics that play between “Hypnotizing mezmerizing me” till the end take place right after Sherlock and John share a sad look, John realizes what he has seen, can’t bear to look at it, and then Sherlock pines like hell for John after. To me it’s a summation of their relationship.  Here are the lyrics:

“December, 1963 (Oh, What A Night)”

Oh, what a night
Late December, back in ‘63
What a very special time for me
As I remember, what a night

Oh, what a night
You know, I didn’t even know her name
But I was never gonna be the same
What a lady, what a night

Oh, I
I got a funny feeling when she walked in the room
Hey, my
As I recall, it ended much too soon

Oh, what a night
Hypnotizing, mesmerizing me
She was everything I dreamed she’d be
Sweet surrender, what a night

And I felt a rush like a rolling bolt of thunder
Spinning my head around and taking my body under
Oh, what a night

Oh, I
Got a funny feeling when she walked in the room
Hey, my
As I recall, it ended much too soon

Oh, what a night
Why’d it take so long to see the light?
Seemed so wrong, but now it seems so right
What a lady, what a night

Oh, I felt a rush like a rolling bolt of thunder
Spinning my head around and taking my body under
Oh, what a night (Do do do do do, do do do do) (x7)

Whether or not it’s from John or Sherlock’s POV, I suppose that’s left to your interpretation. I think the first half up to the first “as I recall it ended much to soon” is John’s POV, remembering their first night together. The second half is Sherlock, remembering the feelings he had when he was with John. So yeah, it’s absolutely about them two and absolutely has NOTHING to do with Mary at all.

It is literally the worst song in existence now and I now cannot listen to it without having an eye twitch. 


“You’re smiling again,” Greg noted.

John jumped back to the present, blinking quickly to shake away his thoughts, which happened to be composed of two very specific people back at the flat. Almost guiltily, John took a sip of his pint and averted his eyes. “I can’t smile?”

“Oh, sure you can,” Greg replied, seeming to struggle hiding a smile of his own. “Domestic life is very fetching on you.”

“Shut up.”

Greg chuckled good-naturedly, popping another chip in his mouth. “I kid, I kid. And speaking of kids…”

John snorted at the segue. “Good one. Rosie’s fantastic, as always. Sherlock’s watching her right now actually, getting up to god knows what. We sort of have an agreement; whenever you and I have these Friday pub trips, he and Rosie are allowed to do whatever experiments or games they want, no questions asked. Mealworms, baking concoctions, microscopes, you name it. Whatever she wants to do.” John nabbed a chip of his own, completely unable to hide his smile this time. “Sherlock’s reasoning being that if I don’t know, I can’t get angry.”

“And you trust him?”

There was no question. “Utterly.”

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Emergency, code Hamish pt. II

Title: Emergency, code Hamish pt. II
Author: Dalila
Ship: Sherlock x Reader
Word count: 1.268
Request: Your “Emergency, code Hamish” gave me a cute idea if you want to play with it. Reader and Sherlock are bored(uh oh) and decide playing Jenga on her baby belly is a great way to involve baby. Baby doesn’t agree and keeps kicking to knock the tower over!”
Part one: x
Summary: Boredom gets us all, but when it comes to 221B, it usually makes tables turn. Your pregnancy however broke the norms Sherlock was used to, so he decides to take advantage of it.

      “But I’m bored!” curly-haired man exclaimed, before reaching out to the pocket of his blue robe Signs of irritation arose on his face and it only made you laugh from the couch. “Where is my gun, (Y/N)?” he asked but didn’t wait for the answer, instead just dropping to his knees and reaching his hand underneath the cupboard. “That was childish, I know where you hide things.”

      You nodded your head with a slight smile, while Sherlock was taking our his gun from where you put it. You had your usual hiding spots, but none that Sherlock wouldn’t know about. Most of the time it wasn’t even about the hiding, but rather slowing him down. “Alright, where are the bullets?” he scoffed, looking at you with his eyes narrowed.

      “Normal parents usually make their unborn child listen to classic music, but you’d make them listen to the sounds of gun firing.” Adjusting yourself on a couch, you automatically rested one of your hands on your swollen belly. “I understand you want our child to be more like you, but I’d rather not have two gun loving people under one roof.” Over five months had passed since the day you told Sherlock you were expecting, and even though his panic over your health prolonged for months, he already managed to understand that pregnancy was not going to cause you serious injury. Of course, it would be easier if your back wasn’t in constant pain, but you couldn’t complain. The joy that arose in your heart at every step of pregnancy was more than enough to make up for every inconvenience that came your way.

      “Where are my bullets?” Sherlock’s voice now sounded more urgent, as he walked towards you with an almost psychotic expression on his face. This man was poisoned with boredom, to the point he was willing to do anything to occupy his mind.

      “I’m a pregnant woman and I refuse to sit here while you fire your gun just inches above my head. I threw them away.” You shrugged before crossing your arms just above your stomach. “Come on, sit here with me. Your daughter clearly craves for your attention.” A warm smile lightened up your features when you reached out for his hand and placed it on your stomach, knowing he could feel your child kicking.

      One corner of his lips twitched a little, but there was no other reaction visible on his face. He still had hard time processing emotions, especially when it came to their baby. “You can’t know it’s going to be a girl.” He stated calmly, lifting your legs so he could sit beside you on the couch. Your legs were now resting on his lap as you watched him with a smile. Despite acting rather cold, his hand remained on your belly. You knew that his sociopathic nature wasn’t something he was born with. It was a façade, one he so strongly wanted to believe in. His only shield, protecting him for so many years now. Getting through it took you years and he still had rather cool attitude, even towards you.

      “I don’t care that I can’t, I know it’s a girl.” Sherlock rolled his eyes at you, without gazing your way. “I’m bored too, think of something we can do together. And something that doesn’t involve weaponry!” You added quickly, before he’d suggest something off your limits. A sigh escaped his lips, as you clearly ruined one of his ideas. But then, playful lights began to flicker in his eyes.

      “What do you have in mind?” you asked, wide smile spreading on your face, even though you were also slightly nervous about whatever that man had imagined. On the other side of the living room, Sherlock was going through the shelves, in which you kept all the ordinary games. Then you could see him turning to you with Jenga in his hands and a mischievous smile plastered on his face. “Okay… this is too ordinary for you and your smile is too wide.” You deduced, narrowing your eyes. “What is the thing you’re not telling me and that will make me say no?”

      Without answering your question he made his over to the couch and settled there. Your legs were now loosely straddling his waist, as he sat in front of you with his legs crossed and the Jenga box on his lap. “I’m thinking it’s time for a family game. For the whole family.” His smile grew even wider as he looked at the Jenga and then at your stomach.

      “Sherlock Holmes, our child is not a table – we’re not going to play Jenga on my stomach!” you exclaimed, a sigh of frustration leaving your mouth. Ever since his panic had fleeted he was having ridiculous ideas, but this one was by far the most ridiculous one.

      “That’s quite an opinion for someone who wanted to check if placing a glass of water on my head will pull me out of my mind palace.” As if not caring about your words, Sherlock began taking out small blocks from the box.

      “That was something different!” you argued, rubbing your forehead with two fingers.

      “No, it wasn’t. Lestrade seemed upset about the fact the most important piece of evidence got soaked with water.”

      “Oh, fine!” you breathed out, sinking more into the armchair of the couch. “But keep in mind that I won’t stop breathing just so you can build a straight tower. And five layers is maximum.” You gave him a look, which didn’t take no for an answer. 

      “Deal.” Sherlock said before getting to building the tower. Without further discussion, you let your head rest on the back of the couch, watching him silently, as he tried to get the tower as straight as possible. However it wasn’t easy, since your child found that moment most suitable for the peak of activity. Sherlock didn’t even manage to place six blocks on your belly before the baby kicked from the inside and knocked the tower over.

      “You’re doing this on purpose, you’re moving.” He shot you an offended glare but you just laughed at him.

      “It wasn’t me!”

      “You just knocked the tower over, I haven’t even finished.”

      After a few more attempts, Sherlock finally managed to get the tower to have mentioned five layers. It seemed as if your child decided to take a rest from the kicking so you calmly removed one of the blocks from the bottom of the tower. But as soon as Sherlock touched one of the blocks, you felt another kick coming – as the tower fell over once more.

      “I’m beginning to think that he’s playing favourites.” Sherlock said, glaring at the ruined tower and your stomach. You needed to hold back another giggle.

      “Or maybe she’s just like her father. Ruining fun for other people.”

      “Oh, so I’m the fun killer now?” he raised his eyebrow at you. If it wasn’t for the humour of the situation, he would probably stay silent and leave at your comment but even you could see he was barely holding his laugh.

      “I may be the one exception to this. And it also may be the reason why I’m having a blast while she keeps ruining your tower.” Shaking your head, you reached your hand to place it tenderly on his cheek. You could see he was still slightly offended as he pulled back from your hand. “Oh, it’s going to be hard.” You sighed.

      “What exactly?”

      “Taking care of two babies at the same time. Especially since one of them is a sociopathic adult.”

Mycroft loves Sherlock so much. He would do anything to protect him. He went out of his way to protect him from going on that suicide mission. However, when Sherlock killed CAM, Mycroft had no choice, cause in his own words no prison could ever hold Sherlock without there being a riot everyday. 

now my question is dID HE FUCKING FORGET ABOUT SHERRINFORD?? What that place is SECURE for their super powered sister but not for Sherlock? She manipulated the whole entire prison to be her slaves…like i’m pretty sure sherlock wouldn’t have been able to do that.

TFP is so fake and so plotholey i just can’t even anymore

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It Was Obvious

Sherlock takes a break from furiously typing at his laptop (where he’s been updating his analysis of the common shapes that dust bunnies take and what they can mean) and asks, “John, do you remember that time when I was about to leave for Europe, and I said I had something important to tell you? And then I made a joke?”

John is gently rocking baby Rosie to sleep in the armchair on the other side of the room. He brushes a tiny lock of hair off her forehead and replies, “Of course I remember that. What about it?”

Sherlock doesn’t even take his eyes off the computer screen. “Well, you do know that was my way of telling you I love you, right?”

Without hesitation John answers, “Mhmm. It was obvious.” He lets out a small sigh. “And you do know that my holding onto your hand for just a little longer than normal when we shook hands that day was my way of telling you that I love you as well, correct?”

Now Sherlock stands and comes over to where John and Rosie sit. He places a tender kiss on Rosie’s little cheek and kneels down, looking directly into John’s eyes for the umpteenth time since they’d first met, letting him know the answer without uttering a word. Of course. It was obvious.

Seeing the beautiful smile he so dearly adored light up John’s face, Sherlock runs a hand through the doctor’s hair, then leans in and their lips meet. There’s nowhere else either of them would rather be than right here, right now, with their  wonderful little girl and in each other’s embrace. 

Mrs. Hudson peeks around the door and smiles when she glimpses the scene. How long she had waited for this to happen? Others had denied it, but she’d seen the longing in their eyes. They’d always loved each other, and they always would. She quietly closes the door, so as to not distract them from each other. 

It was love.

It was obvious.

You were having the worst period cramp of your life.

[Y/N]: What do you mean the target is here? She was supposed to be here tomorrow! 

SM: I said what I said. Now come on, get dressed and let’s get it over with.

[Y/N]: But my period cramps man. I don’t knowwww… Just kill me and do the job yourself?


Originally posted by netflixruinedmylifeimagines

Would really love to, but this is a two man con. Can’t really do it without you. I’ll buy you chocolates and heating pads and teas afterwards. Come on.

[Y/N]: Promise? On the chocolates and heating pads and teas?

SM: The target is in the lobby. Now hurry up or Jim will kill you before you get any of those things. 

SHERLOCK - :The Holmes Brothers:
Markers, pencils and pens on mix media bond, PSCS3 (new window for hi-res)

Ahh, I have been dying to draw the two two Holmes brothers together for a long while. This one was sitting in my “to finigh” pic for a long while before I decided to finish it off during the weeks of my computer crash. HLV is one of my favourite SHERLOCK episodes, and I especially love Sherlock and Mycroft’s interactions at Christmas at their parents’ house, so this is sort of inspired by that (hence why Sherl is smoking).  This was more of a “I really want to draw Mycroft” pic more than anything else, and decided to throw Sherlock in there too, because I adore their interactions in season three so much.

I’m quite pleased with my Mycroft despite the fact I screwed up the umbrella in his hand (what is it even doing?? Like, is he just holding it with his fingers?) and I still have a tendency to elongate skulls, but I’m happy nonetheless. And I like my Sherlock… you’ll be pleased to know that I have now reached a point where I can draw him without having a reference pic, wee, though I do sometimes still consult one for his season three hair since it’s a little shorter than I usually draw it (and a lot less fluffy, but… I love his hair so MEH).

Anyway, the brothers Holmes, having a moment together. Dunno. I need to draw more of these two. Myc is surprisingly fun to draw. HIS NOSE. YAY. I love Gatiss’ nose.


Join me for Fanart Friday on Friday Nights right here on Tumblr between 8 and 8:30 pm! NEXT FF is MARCH 27, 2015! I TAKE SUGGESTIONS! :D

Back to normal

Title: Back to normal
Author: Dalila
Ship: Sherlock x Reader
Word count: 2.151
Request: “hi there, sherlock and reader? prompts 109 and 133, thanks”
                   109. “You fainted, straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” 
                   133. “Did you enjoy yourself last night?” 
Summary: Two years after Sherlock’s suicide he shows up on your doorstep. And at that moment you realize you haven’t moven on at all.
Warnings: mention of suicide
Author’s note: Since all I had were the sentences, I allowed myself to go wild with my imagination. Anyways, I really hope you’ll enjoy it at least half as much as I enjoyed writing it.
P.S. I also allowed myself to slightly adjust prompt 109.

       For two years, you weren’t able to erase his number from your cell phone. 

       Most people would think that you didn’t find it necessary, but not him. He would immediately know that you still didn’t cope with his death. You were unhealthy in your persistence to keep every bit of Sherlock in your life. Even though you knew that he was never coming back.

       He would find you ridiculous. You weren’t even friends. Or rather, he never considered you as one. You were just one of his people, someone who would do anything he’d ask of you. You’d gather information and occasionally provide him with some insight knowledge that was needed for his case. 

       It all started when you were still at university. Your then boyfriend was involved in kidnapping people. You knew something was off, but there was no one who could help you. The situation was too dangerous for you to just talk things out with him, but your suspicion seemed so irrational that going to police was off limits. 

       But there was this man. Sherlock Holmes asked you questions about your boyfriend, claimed to be his old acquaintance. And for some reason, as the conversation went on he admitted being someone akin to a detective. A perfect person to share your fears with.

       Mutual help, that was all it took. You were clever enough to notice a problem in a paradise, enough evidence to prove your boyfriend’s misdeeds , something that made Sherlock treat you with the slightest bit more respect than the others. It made you feel special, once you’d gotten to know him. 

       But Sherlock was gone now. The man you’d grown to like despite his arrogance and ignorance with human feelings. The man you’ve gotten attached to, the only person in your life you could actually trust. He – died, with only one simple message left behind.

       Goodbye, (Y/N).
       - S.H.

       Two years…

       After two years, he was standing right in front of you. Standing on the threshold of your flat.

       “I respect your intelligence and I know you’re more than enough clever to figure this out, but for the sake of kindness I’ll say it…” Sherlock’s face didn’t change one bit. He still wore the same seemingly emotionless expression he always had. Except, you could see that spark of excitement in his eyes. “I am not dead.”

       For a moment, you stayed silent. Usually you were great at handling difficult situations, but that was different. It was Sherlock, back from the land of dead. Thousands of thoughts flooded your head, making you question the world around you. It couldn’t be true, you’ve heard John Watson himself confirming Sherlock’s death. Watson, of all people… But then again – Holmes was this kind of man, who would… Letting out a breath, you focused not to lose your temper.

        I am not dead

       “I can see that…” your voice was weak, trembling but you needed strength for him. To handle this situation without ruining the image of you, whatever that image was in his head. But the more you were trying to calm yourself, the more rage would rise within you. “But I’ll have no problem changing that, unless you choose your next words very carefully.” You spoke slowly, trying oh so hard not to burst in tears in front of him. You swallowed hard, looking at him expectantly. 

       “Okay… did you miss me?” a wide grin spread over his features, as he mocked you. Because that what it was  – mocking you, in your own flat. 

       That was enough, you lost control over everything you thought you’d achieved during last two years. All progress on your grief over that man was now shattered into pieces. You wanted to beat his last breath out of him, punch him so he could feel what you had to endure. But before your hands reached any part of his body, Sherlock grabbed your wrists in one swift motion. You struggled to break free, to reach him with your firsts, tears now shamelessly falling down your cheeks as you voiced your thoughts, without even noticing. 

       “You idiot! Douche! Do you have any idea of what you’ve done?” all the feelings you tried to keep locked deep inside, buried underneath thoughts like He’s not your kind of man. “You’re an egotistical bastard! What made you think you have any right to do that?” He’d never feel anything for you… “ I thought you were dead, you…” words were just flowing from your lips, as you were lost in your rage.

       He’d never care for you

       “You b-broke me…” You didn’t even notice when you stopped trying to beat him, just resting against his chest as he supported the weight of your body. Only then you realized you were losing consciousness. The adrenaline wore off, the shock kicked in and it was all too much for your body to handle, especially after wasting last bits of your strength in unsuccessful attempts to punch him.

       He’d never feel

       Hours must have passed before you woke up. Sunlight was crawling its way to your bed through the curtains. Memories from last night seemed like a bad dream, however you couldn’t help but hope for it not to be. As much as the sudden appearance of a certain consulting detective on your doorstep would be unexpected and provoked aggressive behaviour, living another day knowing he was…

       “You awake? Finally. Took you long enough.” You heard his words, pounding inside your head like an echo. Your blurred gaze followed to the chair in the corner of your bedroom. And there he was – looking at you, with signs of annoyance dancing across his features.  “I hope that amount of sleep was enough for you to calm down, it’s tiring – keeping your hands off me.”

       “Did you enjoy yourself last night?” you asked, feeling your eyes becoming glazed over once again. Last night drained you, made you unable to think clearly. Something he’d never forgive you. Inside your head you could hear his pride Caring is a chemical defect, which makes you weak. And last night you gave him your heart on a plate. Showed your all weaknesses.

       He’d never care, especially not for someone as weak as you.

       “Enjoy what? You fainting straight into my arms?” Sherlock’s eyebrow went up for a moment, as a smirk bloomed on his face. Your heart broke into millions of little pieces, knowing any sort of respect he could have had for you was fleeting. “You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extreme.”

       “You know what I mean, idiot.” And yet here you were, jumping right back to your old habits. Whenever he was being his cocky self, you brought him down with calling him an idiot, so he would finally listen to what you have to say. “Did you enjoy your great come back? Having me in a position so exposed? Enjoy my pain and all…”

       “Just stop it, would you.” He snapped at you, his gaze turning somewhat cold. That was something you’d never seen of him. For a moment you thought you caught him being… hurt. “I thought you deserved to know that I’m back.”

       “But you didn’t think I deserve to know you’re alive. For two years, Sherlock…” you tried to get up and walk out of bed. But before you managed to properly get up, he was there – pushing you back onto the mattress. “I think you still need to rest, (Y/N). I suggest no sudden moves.”

       He was right, only then your head started spinning. His arms secured you from falling off bed, then he helped you sit up and sat on the edge of your bed. “It’s a shame that you didn’t think that much about my health when you faked your own death.” You murmured, closing your eyes so the room would come back to its rightful place in your eyes. You could only hear how Sherlock laughed at you. 

       “Only those, who’d been needed were informed.” You opened your eyes to look at his face. His gaze was fixed on you and for a moment you both fell into silence. You wish you’d known what was happening in his brain, but when it came to yours… You finally had time to process everything, properly calm down. He was alive. Sherlock Holmes was alive, beside you. 

       “You were here all night?” you asked, crossing your legs on the bed. You placed your elbows on your knees. You could see how he suddenly faced the other way. “Oh, and now you’re avoiding the answer.” You rubbed your forehead with your hand.

       “I always considered your observations quite accurate, but at the moment I’d honestly prefer for them not to be.” His eyes went back to their usual, cold stare. From which you couldn’t tell absolutely anything.

       “You still haven’t answered my question.”

       “I just did!”

       “That wasn’t an answer, Sherlock. I want an answer.”

       “Fine!” he snapped, pursing his lips into a thin line. “I needed to make sure you were okay once you woke up. You were tired, judging by the state of your clothes, you’d been working since early hours in the morning.” You sighed, wanting to say something. But at this point saying anything was pointless. “Also, your things are scattered all around your flat, used clothes put exactly where you’d been undressing. I remember you, always a highly neat person. This proves you’ve endured something highly traumatic.” That was too much, you tried talking to him, but he already entered his phase. “But you have no contact with your family, still angry with your parents. This couldn’t have been a family matter, but you were also never the kind to make friends easily. Heavy trust problems. Two years wouldn’t be enough for you to make a friend, who would matter to you that much. And you weren’t in great shape with friends you’ve already made…”

       “Sherlock, are you done?” you tried once more, but he wasn’t listening. 

       “There was only one thing that would put you in a state like that…”

       “Sherlock, please…” by the time, tears were already streaming down your cheeks once again. “Please, stop.”

       “During last two years only my death, or rather my fake death, was enough to cause…” the realization finally hit him. His eyes were absent for the time of his speech, but he finally saw you. With fresh tears glittering in the morning sunlight.

       His body visibly stiffened. You couldn’t read any emotion from his face, but you’ve known him enough to tell one thing – he was nervous. You’ve seen that already. Sentiment, caring… it was overwhelming for him.

       “I’m sorry…” his words seemed genuine. You looked down, trying to regain peaceful expression, for at least one moment. Then you felt his hand on your cheek. Gently, like the touch of a butterfly. His fingers traced your tears, wiping them from your face. You didn’t dare move, not believing you were actually awake. It must have been a dream.

       “Well, I can’t say that I’ve missed the way you’d expose me in every simple detail. That was the main reason I called you a douche.” You tried to lighten the mood a little. Sentiment couldn’t be named in front of Sherlock, or else he’d escape. Like a frightened animal.

       “I was worried about you…” he admitted. That made you look back at him, not even trying to hide the surprise. And for a moment, only a brief moment – you caught the glimpse of concerned look on Sherlock’s face. His eyes lost their normal icy vibe, reflecting the warmth and his lips were quivering.

       “Oh, but you have to admit it…” he said, his face coming back to its typical look. He said that in his low voice, the one that used to send shivers down your spine. You gritted your teeth, knowing  he was unintentionally but inevitably pushing you down the road you couldn’t take. The road of dangerous feelings arising from the bottom of your heart. And he wasn’t even smart enough to realize what he was doing. “You’ve missed this. You’ve missed me…”

       His eyes twitched as your hand slapped him across the cheek. You were still too weak for the slap to have the right pressure, but the act itself must have surprised him.

       “And what was that for?” he looked at you, with the eyes of an offended puppy. You narrowed your eyes at him, before glancing to the window, with a smirk forming on your lips. 

       “For being right…” you only muttered, still not looking at him. And you didn’t have to look to know that he was also smirking. You were back to your usual attitudes. Him being slightly amused by your childish behaviour and you being amazed with his skills and acting nasty despite your true feelings. The sunlight got more intense,

              as the world fell back to its place

Sherlock and the dog wanting

Summary: Sherlock wants a dog
Warnings: none

Sherlock was pacing up and down the front room of 221B Baker Street and looking like he wanted to say something to you. After a while and five more paces ups and downs, you say:

“Just say it, Sherlock. I know you have something to say. What is it?”

He then looks at you, takes a deep breath and says “I want to get a dog.” You look at him in bewilderment! A dog? He wanted to get a dog? While you where quietly questioning his statement, he then tells you that he had it all sorted out with Mrs Hudson.

That did calm you down a little, but he must have known what your next question was going to be as he said “I’m planning on getting a pug. You know, a small do-” but you interrupted him by saying “I know what a pug is. I’m not an idiot. So when do you want to get it?” Without realising he was getting his coat and scarf.

“If you were paying attention, you would realise what I’m doing. Come on, get you coat, we’re going now.” And with that, you got your coat and followed him out the door…

A/N: it’s been a while since I’ve posted an imagine/story. Wow. Anyway, I hoped you liked it. On a side note, I’m doing Inktober on @instantlystrangellama so if you want to check that out please do, I’ve posted the first thing up earlier. If the link doesn’t work, just type instantlystrangellama in search

‘Of Assumptions and Snogging’ Chapter 4

Molly has a stressful day and Sherlock wants to comfort her. Pure cotton candy fluff.

No rom-com is incomplete without some sort of dilemma. In this case, it’s Molly’s fears. Don’t worry, the comedy will return in the next chapter, I promise.

“Sherlock?” Molly called out, entering 221B. “I brought the thumbs you asked for.” She looked around but saw no sign of him. That’s strange, she thought. Shrugging her shoulders, Molly ventured into the kitchen to store the bag of thumbs in the refrigerator. As she closed the fridge door, a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist from behind.

“Hello, Molly,” Sherlock breathed into her ear. The warmth of his breath caused goosebumps to form all over. He’s trying to kill me, Molly mused. She didn’t want to give in so easily, but he was making it exceptionally difficult. There was a moment she considered to cease the chase she had him on mostly due to the stressful day she had at work.

As if he read her mind, Sherlock pulled back and turned her to face him. He said nothing more but took her hand and walked her over to the sofa.

“I should probably go,” Molly said quietly.

“Please sit down and relax for a bit, Molly. You’ve had a bad day,” he deduced.

“You noticed that, huh?” Molly laughed half-heartedly. She planted herself next to him, sitting ramrod straight until Sherlock lifted her slightly, pulling her into his arms. Her body relaxed immediately at the feel of his gentle hands hugging her to him.

“I’ve enjoyed my pursual of you, Molly Hooper, though I am not done yet,” Sherlock smirked. He began to run his fingers through her hair after slipping the elastic from it. Molly had no idea how he knew she loved to have her hair brushed like that; how it made her feel at ease.

“Better not be,” Molly teased playfully. She heard Sherlock let out a low chuckle that warmed her heart.

“I promise,” Sherlock told her, “but with your permission, I want to put a pause on it to be your boyfriend in this moment. I want to take care of you.” Molly’s eyes welled up and her heart felt so full.

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Three of us - Salambo06
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

He leans in as soon as he’s close enough, kissing Rosie’s forehead softly, murmuring a quiet “Morning love” as Sherlock goes into more detailed facts about Rosie’s sleeping habits. John isn’t sure what happens next, but without thinking twice about it and actually feeling like it’s the most natural thing in the world to do right now, he leans in towards Sherlock and kisses his temple with a smile.

Rating: E (first chapter G)   Words: WIP (but you could just read the first chapter as a ficlet and its perfect)

Fluff / Parentlock