what i'm getting from this is that sherlock is asking watson out



thestrawberryblondehobbitbatch said:                                                           

Can you do a Sherlock x reader fic where the reader gets kidnapped my moriarty and sends Sherlock a video showing her being tortured and he keeps on calling a Dimond instead of pet.

A/N: I actually really like this and I'm tempted to make a second part.

Warnings: description of torture and swearing.

Sherlock was pacing up and down the living room of 221B. You’d be missing for two days. You were not one to leave for more than twenty four hours without notice. Normally, before your departure, you would at least tell someone you were leaving even if it was not Sherlock. He had suspicions that Moriarty was alive so he thought that he may have been responsible for your disappearance. However, he did not like to fear the worst when it involved you. He hoped that you were on a holiday. Or something along those lines.



“So," Sherlock said putting his cup down on its saucer. "Any word from Y/N?”

“No,” John replied. “I thought that you had some information.” John was sat opposite Sherlock in 221B. John called in just to check up on Sherlock but they both knew that he really arrived to discuss you.

Sherlock sighed. “Then I guess we have to wait. I don’t like waiting.”

“Y/N is responsible enough. She can look after herself.”

“Yes.” There was a notification from Sherlock’s phone. The text read:

Check your emails. - You Know Who.

Sherlock rushed to the computer and quickly got up his emails.

“Sherlock, what’s- Is that Y/N?” John exclaimed and ran over to the computer. Sherlock had opened up a video which was attached from an unknown email.

“I guess that we have no choice but to watch,” Sherlock sighed and pressed play.



The video started of with you tied to a chair and gagged. Tears stained your cheeks and there were heavy bags under your eyes due to lack of sleep.

“Hello,” Moriarty said walking in front of the camera. “I have your precious little diamond here. Now, what to do with her…” He turned and approached you. He stroked your face before smacking you. It was impossible to hide the pain and fear from your eyes. And that bastard knew he was frightening you. Sherlock and John winced for you. They felt your pain. Moriarty proceeded to retrieve a whip. He took the gag out of your mouth.

“Don’t,” You pleaded.

“I took the gag off so they could hear you screaming,” He snapped. “Not so I could hear you talk. Fucking bitch.” He grabbed your hair and threw you to the floor. Your hands were bound so you could not fight. Moriarty never got his hands dirty and he always used someone else to do the damage but he could not miss a chance to taunt Sherlock and he knew that it would hurt more if it was him to hurt you. He brought the whip down upon your back so the crack of a whip and your cries could be heard throughout the room. Moriarty smiled with glee as he continued to inflict lashes upon your no frail body. Although you already felt destroyed, you decided to grit your teeth and bury your head into your forearms. You concentrated on not breaking down but you had to give in eventually as the pain was too immense. Your back felt like it was up in flames. Blood was draining quickly from the large wounds which had formed on your back. They would leave nasty scars.

“Stop,” Was all that managed to escape your lips.

“I said don’t fucking talk,” He snapped as his patience was wearing thin. He whipped you a final time. “I think that’s enough whipping for one day.” He knelt down beside you and took your hands into his and unbound them before snapping ever single one of your fingers. There was a loud crack as they were bent to breaking point earning an ear piercing scream from you. He then kicked you to a pulp and left you unconscious on the cold hard ground.

He laughed like a maniac before addressing the camera. “See,” He said pointing to your body. “Every diamond can be smashed into pieces.” The footage ended.



John was reduced to tears and even Sherlock was chocked up.

“Is she dead?” John asked.

“No,” The detective replied. “She was breathing. Well, for now. We need to go and find her now! This is my top priority and I am taking this very seriously.”

anonymous asked:

Hello! I love you're Sherlock sketches (that pin is amazing) and i really love your thoughts on him. I'm a big fan of the original books. While I'm also a fan of the BBC show, Disney movie, and Rathbone movies, I'll admit that they have their flaws. In your opinion, what do you think is the main thing that people misinterpret about his character? Why is it that no one gets seems to get Sherlock Holmes right? (Sorry if that makes no sense) Thanks!

Ah thank you so much! Ahh…so preface: I am no Sherlock Holmes expert! I just really loved the books (read ‘em a lot as a kid). I’m aware that there are a lot of different exegesis/analysis of the character–particularly who inspired him (Dr. Bell, Doyle Himself, etc). But these is just my general thoughts/understanding? also: LONG POST AHOY!

 Confidence vs. Arrogance: Ok, so this I feel is a pretty big one that people get wrong! Sherlock Holmes possesses an enormous confidence in his brain and in his work–and it is described as “bordering on arrogance” but not actual arrogance itself (at least most of the time, he does get on Watson’s nerves if he presumes too much, hah). When Holmes’ confidence is misplaced, he is quick to criticize himself, apologize to whomever, and move the heck on, so that he can fix things…which…the more arrogant portrayals of Holmes struggle to do. Also, Holmes is “eager” (probably the most used description in all the books) not because he is compensating, but because he just loves his job. Thusly, he isn’t as concerned with “getting his man” as he is with solving the crime/protecting innocents. You’d be surprised how many villains get away at the end of these books (Holmes believes they get their just desserts eventually).

  • “‘No, it is not selfishness or conceit,’ said he, answering, as was his won’t, my thoughts rather than my words. ‘If I claim full justice for my art, it is because it is an impersonal thing–a thing beyond myself. Crime is common. Logic is rare.’” (Mystery of the Copper Beeches)

Misunderstanding “The Machine”: In modern interpretation, Watson’s comparison of Sherlock to a “machine” gets lost in translation, I think. In modern sensibilities, we see machines as cold, clinical, incapable of feeling (ie. robots). It is a common critique of Holme’s character in many modern adaptations. However, Watson’s comparison is…more specifically related to the arena of sexuality and romance. “Holmes is as inhuman as a Babbage’s calculating machine and just about as likely to fall in love.” This “inhumanity” is less a commentary of Holmes’ emotional spectrum, and more a bemused observation that Holmes has like 0 interest in having The Sex with anyone. Leading to my next point…

Sherlock Holmes doesn’t hate people: I don’t know what the modern obsession is with having smart/clever character be these sardonic butt-holes with a disdain for the human race and how their brilliance is an excuse for any sardonic butt-holery they do. It is boring and lame, and Sherlock’s character falls prey to this A LOT. But here’s the thing, this guy does not hate people–he just doesn’t always exist to please them (at least in a Proper Victorian sensibility). Holmes does get emotionally involved all the time! He sympathetically listens to people’s stories, he comforts clients when he feels they need it. He is enraged at a man who flagrantly insults his wife, a step-father who abuses his daughters, he talks a woman down from suicide, defends another woman’s perceived infidelity, he even talks to a baby, and yes, it is the purest thing. He also keeps another companion when Watson moves on. Also, he and Mycroft get along? There’s literally a whole couple pages of them goofing off together and complimenting each-other. 

  • “Finally he shook one of the dimpled fists which waved in front of him. ‘Good-bye, little man.’” (The Sussex Vampire)
  • “‘You must not fear,” said he soothingly, bending forward and patting her forearm. “We shall soon set matters right, I have no doubt.’” (The Adventure of the Speckled Band)

Holmes doesn’t hate women???: Eyyrgh, ok so no bones about it, Sherlock Holmes is a product of his time. He says a lot of socially accepted “truths” about ladies–how they can’t be trusted, how they are silly, hair pins, etc. And that is annoying and wrong and we all can agree on that, I think. However, he is always civil to women, and rarely talks over or belittles them–ESPECIALLY when he knows they are being abused or in distress. Also, Irene Adler humbled him Quite A Bit–and a lot of his previous overtures on women change through his experience with her and the other rad ladies he works with. I think he partly senses how systematically misused women are–and he is pretty quick to defend them (See: The Copper Beeches, The Lone Cyclist, The Veiled Lodger, The Speckled Band, The Greek Interpreter, The Dancing Men, Charles Augustus Milverton, The Yellow Face, The Sussex Vampire, among others). Maybe not, but he takes their side 9 times out of 10. Of course, he’s not interested in boinking any of them, so modern (male) writers get confused by this and mistake sexual disinterest for misogyny. :/ 

Also a big pain with me and the modern adaptations is that they change the narrative of the stories to make some of the lady characters awful/justify some shoe-horned in remark against womankind. I got particularly riled by the Brett version of The Greek Interpreter, where the girl (abused in the original book) is secretly in on the whole plot and Holmes sneers at her for heartlessly enabling the death of her faithful brother. Where the heck did this come from???? The book has a great ending (where the girl literally Stabs Her Abusers to death, and escapes the heck outta there), I just don’t get it. >:[ (They did this in the Hound of the Baskerville movie too. akjhfddk) 

Anyway, I’ve rambled long enough! Thanks for asking!


So I was talking to perrstein about this as we did an elementary re-watch, and it’s something we were wondering about. Is Moriarty actually aware of how much Joan Watson was responsible for her downfall? Sure, she knows about how it was Joan who figured out if they staged an overdose, she’d come running to the hospital. But does she know the full extent?

In the beginning of the penultimate episode—the episode before the finale—Joan, not Sherlock, is the one to go over the crime scene and find the rare yellow paint—it was called gamboge, and very few stores sell it. It’s how they were able to find Isaac Proctor, the man who pretended to be a tutor but was an assassin for Moriarty and before that worked for the CIA. The man who pretended to be Irene’s tormenter, Mr. Stapleton.

Just look at Moriarty in the photo. Sherlock and Joan think she’s angry because she’s without answers, while really, she’s plotting the murder of this man’s brother. Because of above all else, Moriarty despises incompetency, and in her mind right now her carefully laid plans are unraveling because of the actions of Isaac Proctor. Little does she know that this is all happening because she’s such an art snob, she absolutely had to have the most expensive paints for her projects.

This is the true face of Moriarty. Ruthless, calculating, cold. Absolutely lethal. They show her a picture of Isaac, asking if she knows him and, re-watching the episode, she almost gives herself away with “I just don’t know,” just barely holding back a smirk. God it sounds so mocking watching this again, knowing that there is no Irene, there is only Moriarty.

Once the NYPD tracked Isaac down, he met up with one of Moriarty’s men and he told Isaac “You were sloppy. The police never should have been able to trace that house back to you. Moriarty can’t abide that.” He then let Moriarty’s man go, so he could report back to her “that Sherlock Holmes is a dead man.”

The only reason the police were able to trace that house back to him is because Moriarty was the one who wanted the rare art supplies. He was following her orders. Now, if Isaac Proctor hadn’t been revealed, Moriarty wouldn’t have tried to have him killed. He would never have retaliated by going after Sherlock, and Moriarty would not have tipped her hand and revealed herself as Moriarty. Joan’s defeat of Moriarty goes far further than the fake overdose. Moriarty would have gotten away with it if she had never bought that one jar of paint.

It’s even more of a testament to Joan’s intellect, because if you listen to what she originally said when she picked up the jar of paint “I have these reading assignments, lately about art.” Joan was able to almost instantaneously make the connection of the paint’s importance to the case, from only a few months of deductive training.

In that flashback scene between Irene and Sherlock, Sherlock experienced a similar situation that Joan did with the paint. Except, he himself wasn’t able to pass it—he needed Irene’s help in determining whether or not the painting was a forgery and he wasn’t able to deduce that it had to be a forgery because of the presence of Turmeric, which Irene stated “was being rationed at the time because of your Afghani war.” Yes, eventually he would have gotten to that point, but he wasn’t able to immediately arrive there. He’s been teaching Joan only for a few months, and she was able to absorb the information better than even Sherlock, enough to instantly recognize the expensive paint and deduce from that very few places in NYC would sell it.

Joan Watson brought about Moriarty’s fall from grace long before the hospital. What I’m wondering is if Moriarty even knows how much damage Joan is responsible for. How she was able to account for everything- Sherlock, the police, the hospitals, because Moriarty was sent to a hospital where they marked significant psychological damage, not to mention that for Moriarty to be deemed physically fine a doctor must have examined her first, and I’m guessing there was no physical examination. Like Moriarty would ever let anyone see any possible weaknesses she might have. Not to mention she’d be very aware that some things would show up on a physical examination, like the fact that she had melanoma and at one point had a child. She would have done extensive research on Sherlock’s new companion- just because she dismisses her doesn’t mean Moriarty didn’t find out all she could about one Joan Watson. She would have known Joan Watson used to be a very capable surgeon, who would have known how to read a medical chart.

That chart would have been faked.

Not to mention Moriarty wouldn’t have just had one hospital under her purview, that’s something that too easily could have gone wrong. What if they sent her to another hospital? Maybe there was an emergency and since she would have been deemed as non-essential, they would have taken her to one that’s farther away. Unlikely, but not entirely impossible and this is Moriarty, she accounts for every conceivable possibility. She would have all the hospitals in the area in her pocket. Not to mention, she’s able to just walk into the hospital, despite the fact that police would have been crawling over the hospital. Not that Gregson or any of the group would have thought they’d be effective, but it would have told Moriarty that they were on to her. Appearances had to be kept up, and once in the hospital she would have needed to receive help from both the police and hospital staff to get to Sherlock’s room undetected.

She didn’t crawl through the window, or an air duct. You can hear the door open and she just strolls through uninhibited, without a scratch. The doctors would have known her by sight, because she didn’t talk to any of them. If she had talked to any of them, asked them to examine Sherlock it would have been obvious his drug overdose was false. She didn’t, she just strolled through, so sure of her superiority that in the end Moriarty was the one to get sloppy.

Moriarty accounted for every possible contingency, everything that could go wrong or disrupt her plan. She was so sure of her ascension to godhood that she was untouchable, but she forgot that even gods can be toppled down, as long as one determined hero has the courage and skill to try.

anonymous asked:

Sorry to break some hearts but my brain put even more angst on the end of that fic. Just, if the threats started again and reader got in trouble and now I have the image of Greg crying while she's dying. Just, "I was supposed to protect you. I promised"... Ok.... I'll see myself out. -JM

A/N: You’ve inspired me to write an alternative ending darling! *hysterical evil laughing*

An alternative ending to this one shot- https://imaginedilestrade.tumblr.com/post/160490630033/im-going-to-take-advantage-that-your-requests-are

P.s I’m sorry 😭 not sorry


Greg couldn’t help but smile watching you crack a joke with Donovan and Anderson. Your smile could brighten his day.

He grabbed a pile of important letters he had to read and reply to, he heard you laughing through the walls and let out a laugh himself as he slid his finger under the envelope seal and tore it open, paying more attention to you than the envelope itself. He took out the piece of paper and he felt his whole body go into shock. As if someone had dipped him in freezing water.

Only he would have rather had that than the letter he was holding in is hand. It was all too familiar.

It simply read, ‘You can’t protect Y/N forever’.

“Hey!” Greg didn’t even hear the door open and quickly crumpled the piece of paper up in his hand.

“H-hi!” He nervously stuttered out and you couldn’t help but furrow a suspicious brow.

“What’s that?” You slowly approached his desk.

“Oh nothing, just rubbish” he tried to calmly laugh it off and you nodded understandingly before quickly snatching it off his desk. You ran away from his grasp and opened it “No! Don’t!” Greg pleaded but it was too late, your eyes had already scanned over the words.

“How long?” You asked, trying not to let your nerves show.

Greg let out a defeated sigh “This has been the first”.

You tore it up with a small smile “We’ll get through this Greg,” you tossed the paper into the bin and walked over to a petrified looking Greg “Together this time”. You took his hands in yours and reassuringly squeezed them.

“I promise you,” Greg began looking deep into your eyes “I will protect you and I will always be there for you”. You nodded and wrapped your arms around Greg, he held you tightly as the both of you shared a hug “I love you” he spoke into your neck and it sounded slightly muffled.

“I love you too” you pulled away and gently kissed him, not removing your lips from Greg’s until Anderson disturbed the two of you by awkwardly clearing his throat.

You and Greg pulled away with bashful smiles “I should get back to Baker Street, John asked me to watch Rosie for a couple of hours”. You bid your goodbyes and made it to Baker Street, Sherlock and John left you with Rosie who was sound asleep so you grabbed one of Sherlock’s books that was lying about and made yourself a cup of tea.

Your phone buzzed and you smiled at the screen noticing it was a text from Greg ‘I’m just out of work, five more minutes until I see that beautiful face of yours (if traffic doesn’t hold me up!) x’.

You were about to text back when the front door shut and you stood up “You two are back ear-” your voice disappeared into thin air as you saw an unfamiliar figure standing in front of you with all black clothing and a shabby looking knitted balaclava on.

“He can’t protect you now” he man sneered and lunged forward, you could barley react as you felt a sharp pain spread outwards from your stomach. The man scampered out the flat and our hands shakily pressed against your wound.

You couldn’t move, you could barely register what was happening. You stood on the spot as a tear streamed down your cheek and then you tried to find your phone. You let out a groan that burned your throat as you walked into the kitchen table, your right hand pressing on it to support your body as your left fumbled with your phone and you pressed on John’s number, you considered phoning Greg but he would be driving and almost at Baker Street.

After two rings John picked up “Hello?”

“John get back here. Now” you breathed out and hung up before he could speak.

Just as you tossed your phone away Greg walked through the front door with a large smile spread over his face before it fell seeing the drops of bright red blood on the floor that lead to the kitchen.

“Y/N?” He called out in a shaky voice and turned around, seeing you hunched over the table. He ran to you and wrapped his arms around you just before you fell to the ground, the lack of blood going to your head was making you dizzy.

“It’s….it’s okay” you softly whispered out with a small smile.

“No! It’s not!” Greg cried out as tears streamed down his cheeks “I promised you! A few hours ago I promised to keep you safe! I was supposed to protect you!”

“I know but this isn’t your fault” your voice was barely audible, if you spoke any louder your voice would crack and you’d end up as a blubbering mess in your final moments.

Sherlock and John rushed up the stairs, already having a sense of dread from hearing your voice on the phone. John crouched down beside you as you lay on the flor with Greg still cradling you in his arms. You let out a small yelp as John forcefully pressed both hands on your stomach to compress the bleeding.

“We need to get her to the hospital,” John told Greg and Sherlock “Y/N probably has internal bleeding-”

You cut John off with a cocky smirk “That’s where the blood is supposed to be…”

John let out a broken laugh, wiping away a stray tear that left his eye. You swore you saw Sherlock tearing up too. “John, I’m no doctor but I know…” You weakly trailed off and John sent you a sympathetic smile.

“Know what?” Greg asked as if he was being conspired against. You let out a shaky breath and looked up to Greg as tears splashed on your face “No…” His throat completely closed “No!” He screamed out louder, sending a shockwave of guilt though the flat.

“Greg, please…this isn’t your fault” you tired to relieve some of the guilt he felt but he wouldn’t listen, he was frantically shaking his head as tears spilled from his eyes. You reached your hand up to cup his cheek and he stopped shaking his head.

He placed his hand over yours “This is not your fault,” you weakly spoke out in a stern voice “Okay?” Greg sent you a single nod and you smiled “I love you”.

“I love you too Y/N,” Greg breathed out “Y/N?” He noticed the sparkle in your eyes fade and he screamed out your name in an pained animalistic roar, he desperately tried to wake you by shaking your body but it went limp in his arms.

John asked Sherlock to pull Greg away as the doctor grabbed a blanket to place over you with a heavy heart. The ambulance arrived to take your body away and Greg got into the back of it.

“Why don’t you come with us?” John suggested, he wouldn’t know how Greg would cope being left in the back of the ambulance with your lifeless body.

“No,” Greg groggily replied and glanced over his shoulder to John “I promised I’d always be there”.

mostlyanything19  asked:

Hi, if you have the time, can you tell me about A Study in Steampunk? I saw your comic about it and now I'm really curious (bc i crave emotional destruction apparently, oh well)


A Study in Steampunk: Choice by Gaslight is a text-based multiple-choice game written by Heather Albano and hosted by Choice of Games LLC. The story is heavily inspired by Sherlock Holmes characters, and set in a world with Steampunk, Dracula, and Jack the Ripper influences.

You can play the first three chapters for free online here, or buy the game from Steam for about $4 here. It’s also available for mobile for the same price.

Basically you play as a character very similar to Dr. Watson, opposite a character very similar to Sherlock Holmes. The choices you make throughout the game determine your personal stats, how your story goes, and how your story ends.

There are also 57 different achievements you can unlock depending on what you manage to do each time you play.

I personally think the story is very well written; the characters are convincing, and the plot weaves in political and social issues in a way that we can relate to even though it’s a fantasy world. Also, the choices you make actually have quite a big impact on things, both obvious and not obvious. There are a LOT of different endings, and I found it really exciting to try and find all of them. Save your country or let it fall, save your friend or let him die, save yourself or lose control and descend into madness, everything is there, and that’s not nearly a comprehensive list. I’ve clocked 35+ hours of play since I got it and I STILL haven’t found everything.

So essentially if you have any remote interest in Sherlock Holmes, fanfiction, steampunk, mystery, or adventure, you should get this game. Seriously, $4 for 35+ hours of gameplay is amazing. I don’t kid when I say this is the best $4 I’ve spent in terms of the value I got out of it.

I don’t want to be spoilery here, so if you have further questions feel free to message me, I’m super eager to talk about this game in more detail if you want :D

  • Baby Holmes: ...
  • Baby Holmes: Dad?
  • Sherlock: *at his kitchen lab* Mmm?
  • Baby Holmes: *fiddling with his hands* Are you and Mum fighting?
  • Sherlock: *glances at his bedroom door; smirks* Oh, no...far from it.
  • Baby Holmes: *relieved* Good.
  • Sherlock: *returns to work*
  • Baby Holmes: ...
  • Baby Holmes: Dad?
  • Sherlock: Mmm?
  • Baby Holmes: *fidgets* Is Mum ill?
  • Sherlock: Not that I'm aware of.
  • Baby Holmes: She's eating a lot.
  • Sherlock: *abandons experiment; lifts his son into his lap* Yes? What else?
  • Baby Holmes: Uhmmm...she's sick sometimes. And tired a lot. She had to get lots of new clothes.
  • Sherlock: *nods* Yes...
  • Baby Holmes: *grimaces* She keeps wanting you to rub her back and stuff...
  • Sherlock: *chuckles* She certainly does. Why would that be?
  • Baby Holmes: She has to bend over at work...and it could hurt.
  • Sherlock: *prompting* Carrying something, too. That could do it, right?
  • Baby Holmes: *nods*
  • Sherlock: *grins* So...deduction time. We have morning sickness, weight gain, mood swings and sore muscles *gestures encouragingly* You've seen this before, haven't you? Rosie Watson's little brother...
  • Baby Holmes: *gasps* Is Mum having a baby?
  • Sherlock: *affectionate smile* And you said you'd make a terrible consulting detective.
  • Baby Holmes: *beaming; hugs his Dad*
  • Sherlock: *proud smile* I can't guarantee you'll have a brother, though.
  • Baby Holmes: *shakes his head; mumbles into Sherlock's jacket* I don't care.
  • Baby Holmes: ...
  • Baby Holmes: Dad?
  • Sherlock: Yep?
  • Baby Holmes: *looks up; innocently* How did the baby get there?
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Sherlock: *raises his voice* Oh, Molly, dearest? *picks up his son; moving to the bedroom* We have a question for you!
Possible scenarios to season 4: part 1
  • we are in a giant hall. marble walls, chandeliers, tall vaulted ceiling. The fancy crowd is either sitting at small tables or standing and chatting, holding drinks. The women in luxury dresses. the men in elegant suits. There's a stage standing after the crowd and on it there's a band playing classical music.
  • we cut from the crowd and are viewing from behind a fancy buffet, at the backs of two men standing in front of it. One is tall with black curls and an impressive posture, the other is shorter with light brown hair.
  • we cut to their fronts and encounter Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, both in tuxes and bow ties.
  • John: look as all these women!
  • Sherlock: careful John, you're a married man.
  • John: oh shut up. How the hell are we going to find this woman? she could be anyone!
  • Sherlock: well she's certainly not that bearded man i the blue suit. unless she's really good...
  • John: *anxiously fixes his tie* why did Mycroft have to send us here as waiters? couldn't he give us fake IDs or... a special card or something
  • Sherlock: I asked him to.
  • John: why?
  • Sherlock: It's essential for my plan.
  • John: and in what point are you going to let me in that plan?
  • Sherlock: now seems like an appropriate time. (raises his look, observing the crowd in concentration) The woman we're looking for...
  • Mycroft: we were informed of the existence of a woman. we suspect she's working for the Swiss, but we can't know for sure and we're not interested in any cooperation. we suspect she's holding information our best agents weren't able to find.
  • Sherlock: you really have to start filtering your agents better, they're terrible.
  • Mycroft: she has no idea the information she's holding is valuable. No one knows but us. and we'd like to keep it that way.
  • Sherlock: so you want me to talk to her.
  • John: how? you don't even know who she is.
  • Mycroft: we know she's be attending a gala next week. find her. find out what she knows. without reveling any connection to the British government. this is crucial.
  • Sherlock: There are people here who are far to known to be a Swiss secret agents, so that goes. This woman can't be married or have children or pets, and she's probably not over 50, so that eliminates some more...
  • *the crowd from Sherlock's point of view. people disappear as he excludes them*
  • John: No, you can't possibly narrow it all down.
  • Sherlock: Not all of it, probably, but most. You may have noticed that I've been studding dress catalogs lately?
  • John: oh yeah, I though you were developing a new interest.
  • Sherlock: an undercover agent could never afford to buy an expensive dress, While most women in these sort of events are dying to show off their wealth. I've memorized catalogs of all top designers in fashion. that woman over there?
  • *cut to woman in a white dress with flowers pattern*
  • Sherlock: Dior, 10,000 dollars. No way it could be her. same applies for 20 other woman in this room.
  • *a major amount of women vanishes from the crowd*
  • John: Sherlock, there's no need to make excuses. If you want to look at dresses, I won't judge you.
  • Sherlock: Shut up. and now for some final adjustments...
  • *captions appear over the remain women. "OCD nail biter" - gone. "desperately in love with an older man" - gone. "chronic back problems" - gone. more and more women pop out of the crowd*
  • Sherlock: we are down to four options.
  • *four women, in different locations around the hall, remain frozen mid-action*
  • Sherlock: time to act.
  • John: Okay, what do we do?
  • Sherlock: *takes the champagne salver from the table and hands it to confused John, and then takes the shrimps salver* I need you to go over to these two women, blonde-in-blue-dress in the center, and the one in the black dress and long hair. I'll go to the other two.
  • John: what, and - offer them a drink?
  • Sherlock: yes. and look closely. try to see if any of them acts suspicious in any way. we'll meet back here with our findings.
  • John: wait - "act suspicious" ? what do you mean?
  • Sherlock: anything strange. even the slightest gesture.
  • John: How the hell am I supposed to know your definition of strange?
  • Sherlock: you'll know it when you see it. Now go, quick!
  • *Sherlock rashes off before John can say anything. frustrated, John sighs then starts walking towards the first woman, carefully trying to balance the salver in his hands*
  • John: *mutters* of course he had to give me the harder one...
  • *as he reaches the woman, who had just had a laugh with the the man she was talking to, she turns around and notices him*
  • John: fancy a drink?
  • woman: oh, thank you! *takes a glass from the salver and turns back to continue her conversation*
  • *John continues to walk towards the woman in the black dress, with a mane of wavy dark hair that goes down her waist. The woman is standing with her back to him, so he doesn't see her face*
  • John: would you like a drink?
  • *The woman doesn't answer. then, without making the slightest turn towards him, she slowly sands out her hand and leave it hanging, awaiting.
  • John: *tensed, places a glass in her hand. still not saying a word, the woman gently rests her hand back down.
  • nervous, John turns back and spots Sherlock at the table. He hurries to get there, relieved to put down the salver.*
  • Sherlock: *eagerly* did you find anything?
  • John: *nods* it's the one in the black dress. She didn't say a word. she didn't even move, I couldn't see her face.
  • Sherlock: Perfect. *quirky smile* now, you wait here. I'm going to escort her out of the room, wait two minutes then follow me.
  • *imperturbable, Sherlock starts pacing slowly over to the woman. It appears she doesn't notice, but something in her back stiffens. then, as Sherlock gets closer, she starts walking away, with measured steps, towards the exit.
  • Sherlock picks up his pace, almost unnoticeably, but not to the woman, who switches to a fast walk. John realizes something is wrong. Then she begins to run and time slows down, as her hand let go of the champagne glass and the liquid seems to float out in the air.
  • the glass shatters on the ground, and time turns back to normal as Sherlock bursts out running, followed immediately by John. People gasp and turn their heads as the three rush through the crowd. "excuse me," John automatically says as he pushes people away, trying to reach Sherlock and the woman, but they've already stormed out of the hall doors.*
  • *after chasing her through a few corridors Sherlock finally reaches the woman. He grabs her by the shoulder and turns her around.
  • Irene Adler: Hello mister Holmes.
  • *Sherlock flinches as he meets the face looking back at him. panting from the chase, he stares at Irene with concealed shock, agitated, as Irene stares back, her face showing the same mix of painful feelings.*
  • *theme music starts playing*.
An Unlikely Friendship
  • Mary: *opens her front door*
  • Molly: I... I could kill a man and not get caught. Or a woman. No one suspects the quiet ones. One girl’s night, a well-timed bit of aconite in your drink, “oh I forgot my favorite cherry jumper at work, can we stop off round the corner at Bart's?” A few quick slices and you’re so much medical waste.
  • Mary: … … …
  • Molly: *on a roll* Sherlock could be experimenting on your liver by lunch. It’s the largest organ, best to get it out of the way first. He’d never know the difference. He never gives back half the body parts I give him - I'm afraid to ask honestly, but they'd never be found.
  • Mary: *carefully neutral* His Nibs finally told you the truth about who shot him, then?
  • Molly: Oh. Well no, not actually. I suspect he’d never rat you out. But c’mon, Sherlock Holmes is shot face to face and he doesn't solve the case? I know him better than that. He's protecting someone. Protecting you.
  • Mary: *nods* He’s been not solving that particular case for nearly a year now. How long have you suspected?
  • Molly: Um… Nearly a year now, I suppose.
  • Mary: *hand subtly out of sight behind the doorframe* Why now, then? I'm not pregnant anymore, so you thought you'd have a go?
  • Molly: Wha-- no. The point is that I'm not going to “have a go.” I’m not suicidal; I certainly wouldn't warn you if I was. Quiet one, remember? I'm here because, well… you’re just so lovely, aren't you? You’re a mum now, and you and John are so happy, and you're funny and clever. I wish I didn't like you half so much. I can't hold this weight anymore. I know, Mary. I know that you shot Sherlock. I know that Sherlock and John both forgive you. I know that he’s alive, and that he absolutely adores you and he has his reasons, so I… I forgive you too. For what it’s worth, I forgive you.
  • Mary: *relaxes* It's worth more than you might imagine. I'm starting to get why Sherlock likes you, Molly Hooper.
  • Molly: Yeah well, you too. I...g’night. *turns to go*
  • Mary: Be Rosie’s godmother!
  • Molly: What?!
  • Mary: Be Rosie’s godmum. I quite like you too. There aren't many people in the world who know what I am and still like me. Three by my count. Four if you count Rosamunde. And I know a certain consulting detective who wouldn't mind an excuse to stand in front of a church with you, whatever he pretends. Molly - we ladies who could kill a man and not get caught, we ladies who choose not to everyday - we should stick together.

Moffat Appreciation Week: The Sherlock Special

“I’m your landlady, not a plot device!”

The Abominable Bride is a story about stories within stories within stories.  Here the tale of a Victorian Sherlock is embedded in a modernised Sherlock Holmes in the present time, with short stories and blogs and a journey back into the painting of a waterfall. This characteristic is not only visible in the episode’s parallels, references and it nods to storytelling, but it also extends to its Victorian plot and the deconstruction of the role of women in the show, the original story, and society.

The episode judges and preaches, with a deliberately dramatic flair, but it almost side-steps the issue of Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss being the one to indirectly critique, by making the male perspective explicit in the text itself. This is not a woman’s narrative, not outside and not inside the show, and it’s not even attempting to masquerade as one. It clothes itself in its own limitations – that of a story written by two men about two other men. And so it takes place in the mind of a man, filtered through his point of view, entire scenarios made up within an already fictional world.

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aprincesswholovesinsects  asked:

for the drabble ask meme: Joanlock for 65, 71, and/or 99...or 100! idc honestly I just love anything Joanlock :)

 I went with 71. “Kiss me, quick!”

“Nothing else noteworthy in here,” Sherlock declared as he finished rifling through the contents of the hotel room’s safe. “Are you finished?”

“Almost.” Joan photographed the last two pages of the notebook and handed it back to him. They’d have to wait to print and read the photos at the brownstone but they were both pretty sure this was the evidence they needed to link McMillan to the smuggling ring.

There’d been an influx of illegal diamonds in a couple of jewelleries downtown and the local branch of the Homeland Security Investigations agency had requested Joan and Sherlock’s help in identifying lawyer James McMillan as the smuggler’s New York contact. They were at his hotel in Manhattan; Joan had lifted the room card from McMillan as he left the lobby, and Sherlock had cracked the safe once they got to the tenth floor room.

“Ready?” She asked as Sherlock looked around one last time, making sure everything was just as they’d found it.

He nodded and they moved to the door together. As they were about to step outside they heard the ding of the elevator and approaching voices. They rushed back inside the room and listened carefully.

There were two female voices and a low, intermittent squeaking.

“Maid’s trolley,” Sherlock whispered. “We’re closest to the elevator so they’ll start here.”

“There’s nowhere to hide in here,” Joan hissed urgently.

“Closet?” He suggested with a grimace.

“And hope they don’t open it to hang a shirt or something?”

The only other way out was through the window, she could see the fire escape stairs right next to it, but the actual opening was narrow and there was no way they could both squeeze out before the housekeepers opened the door. They would get caught red-handed.

That gave Joan an idea. She practically ripped their nitrile gloves off and shoved Sherlock onto the bed. Thankfully the day had been hot enough that she was wearing one of her lighter outfits and he had foregone his ever-present blazer; there was not time to wrestle with jackets and buttons.

“Watson, what are—”

“It’s not about being here,” Joan whispered as she tore off her tee and straddled Sherlock’s waist in the same movement. “It’s about not looking suspicious.”

She saw his eyes light in understanding, his hands moved to her hips now barely covered by her hiked-up skirt. “You’re—”

The voices got closer.

“Kiss me, quick,” she commanded.

He leaned up and obeyed, their lips joining in a fervent kiss. A second later they heard a card sliding into the lock and the door swinging open.

Joan pretended to startle with a loud gasp, head whipping around to gape at the maid who just gawped right back. She then turned to Sherlock in in mock horror. “You forgot to hang the sign?!”

“—I, well…” he floundered, his arms tightening around Joan’s waist when she made to move away. “Darling, I thought—“

“Oh god,” Joan groaned, burying her face in Sherlock’s shoulder.

That seemed to snap the young housekeeper out of her stupor, she jumped back. “Sir, Ma’am, I’m sorry! I apologise! We’ll come back later. I’m so sorry!”

“Darling, please!” Sherlock pleaded into Joan’s hair as the girl slammed the door closed.

They listened as the maids whispered urgently to each other and then, finally, the sound of the trolley’s squeaky wheel and the door across the hall opening.

Sherlock grinned up at Joan, loosening his hold of her waist. “That was some quick thinking, Watson, well done.”

She scoffed as she climbed off his lap to put her shirt back on. Her shoes had fallen to the floor at some point.

“C’mon.” She moved to the window. “Let’s get out of here before she remembers what McMillan actually looks like and gets suspicious.”

He smiled brightly at her, looking a bit ridiculous with her lip shimmer smeared on his chin. “After you, my dear Watson.”

Imagine John Watson as a child thinking both girls and boys are cute and finding he will have crushes on both and not understanding why or what it means

Imagine teenaged John Watson knowing he is bisexual and trying to get up the courage to come out to his parents and friends. But then one day Harry comes home and announces she’s gay. After seeing the way his parents react to Harry’s declaration, he decides to stay closeted.

Imagine John in Uni wanting to kiss guys he thinks are cute but unable to bring himself to it. He’s got all this experience with girls but everyone still thinks he’s straight and every time he’s alone with a guy he’s interested in, he just keeps hearing his dad’s voice in his head that he didn’t raise his kids to be queer.

Imagine John in the army meeting his commanding officer for the first time and knowing right away there is something there. He and Sholto maintain their professional relationship as long as they are able until one night after they lose a comrade. They drink a bit and everything John has wanted for so long finally unravels him and they take one another apart with their lips and tongues and hands and teeth. Sholto asks John to call him James in private.

Imagine John realizing he is in love for the first time in his life, but still in a position where he has to keep it and himself a secret. Imagine how much it breaks his heart when it ends.

Imagine John’s depression after being invalided home. How he sometimes thinks of just ending it. He’s all alone anyway. He doesn’t talk to his family or James. Nothing ever happens to him. And then he meets a man who makes him feel alive. But the man isn’t an option for a romance, so they become friends and flatmates instead.

Imagine John’s frustration with people thinking he and Sherlock are a couple and having to correct them because he would like nothing more than to be a couple with him. John knows he’s falling in love with Sherlock, it’s barreling toward him like a freight train and there’s nothing John can do to prevent it from happening. He dates women and feels nothing for them emotionally, but there’s no way he can come out now. Sherlock would know in an instant how he feels.

Imagine John’s heartbreak after Sherlock’s suicide. After John was working up the courage to tell him how he felt. And then his last words he said to Sherlock’s face were calling him a machine. That Sherlock never knew how deeply John loved him. And now he never will.

Imagine John finally trying to move on. He will never get over Sherlock totally, but he can’t spend the rest of his life wishing it had all gone differently. And Mary is nice. I mean she was there for him during his grief. The sex is fine. And he may never really fall in love with her, but he does love and care for her, so there’s no reason to keep hesitating.

Imagine John realizing it’s too late when he hears Sherlock’s speech. Imagine his confusion hearing Sherlock’s words like they are a confession. And knowing there’s nothing he can do about it now. Then he finds out Mary is pregnant and his regret is multiplied. Now he might lose his friend as well.

Imagine John miserable without Sherlock. Dreaming about him. Packing his clothes and cycling to work, hoping to hear from Sherlock. Sadly wanking in the shower. Grabbing his phone desperately fast anytime a text comes in. Second guessing what he heard at the wedding. Promising himself that if he can confirm Sherlock really feels those things for him, he will leave Mary, baby or no. He will finally do what it’s taken him his life to do and come out. And then the woman he married but never really loved almost kills the man he loves more than anything.

Solving the Mystery

Love – the greatest mystery of all, and how would Sherlock Holmes solve it? Like @welovethebeekeeper suggested, as soon as Sherlock uttered “I love you”, the spell of “desperately unspoken” has been shattered. These words belong not only to John Watson but Sherlock Holmes himself as well.

I know speculating based on a 1-second clip is asking for trouble, but hey, we’re all having fun (dying), so why not? I am in agreement that the scene look/feel like MP, but if this is the first time Sherlock Holmes say these words out loud…… can’t be a wasted opportunity is all I’m saying. But how?

Hey remember this?

Sherlock making a deduction in MP and in real life concurrently is nothing new – what if the “I love you” scene is in a similar situation?

As soon as “I love you” escaped his lips, Sherlock snapped back to real life, John standing right in front of him. The deduction begins because of whichever case at the moment (case is not really the point remember), but in order to solve it Sherlock has to come to realize what their feeling for each other really means: 

1) “I love you” → “You love me” (saying it to John, John being all incredulous, followed by confusion and laughter and tears and…… you get the picture); 

2) “I love you” → “I love you, of course!! John!! I love you.” (and John being all incredulous at first and slowly he realizes what Sherlock is really saying)

Sherlock Holmes solves murders, John Watson saves lives. It’ll require both of them to solve the greatest mystery of all: love. 

Call me hopelessly romantic or optimistic or wishful thinking all you like, but wouldn’t this be so fitting?

anonymous asked:

Hi! I'm new to the fandom and was wondering if you could rec me a few of the famous johnlock fics? The fandom favorites and such? Just so that I have somewhere to start. Thank you :))

Oh man I’m not gonna lie I just got so excited about this ask. Firstly, welcome! Second, I’m so jealous of you because you get to read all of these for the first time. Fandom classics, here we go!

Performance in a Leading Role - Mad_Lori

Sherlock Holmes is an Oscar winner in the midst of a career slump. John Watson is an Everyman actor trapped in the rom-com ghetto. When they are cast as a gay couple in a new independent drama, will they surprise each other? Will their on-screen romance make its way into the real world? 

A Study in Winning

John and Sherlock are professional tennis players and it’s Wimbledon. One is a broken almost was at the end of his career, the other an arrogant rising star tipped for greatness. It should have been a straightforward tournament. It really should have been. How were they to know that a chance encounter would change everything?

The Frost is All Over - Chryse

John was brave and clever and loyal, a commoner who longed for an exciting life. Sherlock was dashing and brilliant and passionate, an Earl’s son who longed to solve crimes.

Pas de Duex

When Sherlock gets banished to the Year 13 corridor, he finds himself with a new locker neighbor: John Watson, the enigmatic captain of the rugby team whom the teachers love and girls swoon at the sight of, but Sherlock isn’t charmed. Not in the slightest. Honest.

Bury the Bells - unknownsister

AU set after WWI in 1922. John is adrift in a loveless marriage. He takes a holiday to the country and meets a difficult patient. The spark that ignites between them might relight John’s life or burn it to the ground.

Eggs and Coffee and Love Confessions

These two really are such idiots, but they figure it out in the end.

The Great Sex Olympics of 221B - XistenialAngst

John Watson thinks Sherlock Holmes should admit that he, Watson, is more of an expert on sex than Sherlock is. But Sherlock refuses to concede the point. He comes up with an experiment plan that will resolve the issue. The results will determine who wins the prize. But sometimes even the best thought-out scientific study has unexpected consequences.

Dawn Before the Rest of the World - PoppyAlexander

In one of the grand houses of England in the 1920s, butler Sherlock Holmes is wooed to pieces by the world’s most romantic gardener, John Watson.

Over Fathoms Deep - bittergreens

When the youngest son of the aristocratic Holmes family is shipped off to sea in an attempt to cure him of his poor temper and bad manners, he fully expects to spend a long tedious voyage as miserable as ever. What he does not count on is having his heart stolen by the strapping young crewman, John Watson.

To the Sticking Place - blueink3

Renowned Shakespearean actor Sherlock Holmes has finally burned all of his bridges in the theatre industry save for his constant director, Greg Lestrade. John Watson has made a name for himself in the musical theatre circuit, but age and injury are working against him. Can they reinvent themselves for an all-male Macbeth without killing one another?

Northwest Passage - Kryptaria

Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn’t truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes

I’d Probably Still Adore You With Your Hands Around My Neck - Mssmithlove

When Sherlock and John become roommates in their first year at University, they both end up finding things they never realized they were looking for- in each other.

Just Like That (Gone and Changed) - cwb

John and Sherlock are best friends, until John goes and changes.

A Cure for Boredom - emmagrant01

They’d never talked about sex in the year they’d known each other. Well, that wasn’t quite correct: Sherlock had never said a word about sex; John had bemoaned his personal dearth of it on many occasions.


Also if anyone has any that I forgot, because I’m sure I did forget some, feel free to add them in the comments!

what if bbc sherlock was a fluffy rom com about sherlock and his boyfriend getting into all sorts of shenanigans

Meet John Watson, your typical not gay Army Doctor

Meet Sherlock Holmes, your…not so typical Consulting Detective

With a little help from Cupid a.k.a Mike

The two begin their whirlwind journey together

But will the Detective get more than he originally deduced?

from the makers of Mystrade: Love/Cake Relationship

comes JOHNLOCK the movie, out in cinemas 2014

okay but youtuber johnlock au
sherlock has a small little dancing channel where he opens with some shit about bees and interesting facts and then has to shake his curly head and remind himself to start the dance, the music, but he never quite has the courage to edit those little speeches out because he likes the way his very, very few viewers comment and ask questions and he just loves to dance with his lean, pale arms swooping all around and his tight black pants clinging to his dancers muscles and he puts up a video every two weeks, sometimes sooner, and he’s making his way up on the youtuber chain, but he just loves it, so by the time he has about 30,000 views on his videos, mostly fan girls telling him how hot he is and how nice his butt is, he’s going through his comments when he sees one new person that catches his eye, and instead of all the Japanese emoticons and hearts that other commenters leave, the simplicity of this one interests him and he stares at that “Amazing.” for about thirty seconds because the icon of the commenter is a little military badge with a maroon JW inside it and, because sherlock likes to snoop and because it’s military, he jumps over to the guys channel and reads the bio…
john watson basically just started the channel because his therapist said that a twenty five year old army doctor should have some sort of blog to write about what he’s seen, how he’s coming along with the healing process, so he says that he got his sister to mail him his laptop all the way from England to Afghanistan so that he can make videos from his tent/the hospital because, while he was shot, he’s also in training again, so he can’t techically leave but, as his little YouTube bio says, vlogging helps a bit. so he’s talking on his channel, posting videos not very often, once every four weeks, at best, and he doesn’t have many viewers, mostly just his friends back home and some girls who found him somehow, but he’s getting along, doing his thing, by the time Sherlock finds him.
and the youtube dancer is fascinated at how the young man’s blue eyes dart about the screen when he talks, the way he sucks his lips in when he’s paused his speech, and within less than a few hours, sherlocks watched all of his boring little videos and he’s totally smitten so he leaves a comment, “Honorable, loyal, brave, not useless, boring, and stupid” (some words john had used to describe himself) and John sees it a few days later and is all blushy so he responds and then sherlock responds instantly (he’s always on) and they have a gross, dumb, long comment chain as they get to know each other before switching to private messages and then… a few months later, after they’ve featured each other in annotations on their videos and given shout outs, you can see and hear in ScienceDancer221’s newest video, as well as ArmyD0cJW’s latest update, a creeping blush on their cheeks as they say, “so ive got this new boyfriend…”

MH Part 4
  • John: Okay everyone's put 10 quid in so let's start. How will Sherlock Holmes ask Molly Hooper out today?
  • Mycroft: Simple, he'll enter the lab with a heart in a jar and give it to her. He'll ask her to take a look at it for some seemingly ordinary reason relating it to a case. Upon dissection no doubt, there will be an array of chemical compounds found in the aortas and ventricles. Per their normal routine, Molly will identify these substances. Once she figures their abbreviations she'll discover that they are an acronym, spelling out a message, seeking a more intimate companionship. The answer, naturally yes.
  • Lestrade: *scoffs* Sherlock waste a heart? I don't think so.
  • Mycroft: Who said it was a waste?
  • Anderson: Not his style.
  • Mycroft: I'm sorry?
  • Anderson: *pauses* The science part I can see, but it lacks the...
  • John: Drama?
  • Anderson: Yes! When Sherlock does it, there'll have to be more of a flare to it.
  • Mycroft: Such as?
  • Anderson: Well for starters it wouldn't be at the lab. The smell of corpse and disinfectant, I would think would kill the mood. No, it'll be on a case.
  • Lestrade: I don't think Sherlock will be inclined to make his move in front of me.
  • Anderson: No of course not! I meant a private case, lord knows he must get enough of those to fill up the weekend evenings with cocktail parties and art galas. Of course he'll wait for the most dangerous part of the night, the adrenaline through them both will aid in their boldness towards each other. The cheeky devil will probably lead her to a hiding place where it is near impossible to get a few feet alone. You can see where that'll lead. By the time they've caught the perpetrator Sherlock will have both wooed and successfully been accepted into a romantic relationship with her.
  • Lestrade: Some how I still believe neither of those theories. Couldnt he just pop over to her place with flowers, or candy, or something and ask her out?
  • Anderson: *stares*
  • Mycroft: *stares*
  • John: *stares*
  • Lestrade: What?
  • John: First of all, when has Sherlock ever shown up to Molly's place bearing candy and flowers?
  • Lestrade: Oh please, Molly is still a woman, and a romantic one too, so go course she'd appreciate it. It's better than your theory.
  • Mary: 40 quid for coffee.
  • *all four turn around to see Mary leaning in the doorway smiling at them*
  • Mycroft: *distastefully* Coffee? Why on earth would asking her to grab a cuppa constitute for an invitation for a relationship?
  • Mary: *paces around the table* Every day without fail, Molly asks Sherlock if he wants to grab some coffee with her. He always answers with black, two sugars. At first she was disappointed, but now since they're friends she thinks nothing of it, even though she still means it as a date. If Sherlock were going to ask her out he'd beat her to the punch and ask Molly to coffee. Acceptance of said invitation would mean yes, and they'd carry on from there as partners. *ends monologue and is back at the door*
  • Mycroft: *stares suspiciously*
  • Anderson: *stares suspiciously*
  • Lestrade: *stares suspiciously*
  • John: And you're certain about this?
  • Mary: Of course! *bends down and kisses him, turns to leave*
  • Lestrade: She couldn't be right
  • Anderson: Could she?
  • Mary: *calls from downstairs* I can, and I am. I'll see you boys later for my prize!

mistykins06  asked:

It's 2 am here and I'm a bit over tired but how about this, Sherlock and Molly stranded out of country after Molly gets pick pocketed. Them bickering over whose fault it is while they wait for Mycroft to intervene. The latter who forces them to stay in a holding cell together during 'processing'.

I always love twisting prompts, but just a little. Also looove this prompt. It kept me up longer than expected. I’m going to be 10+ weird at work tomorrow. IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT, UGHHHHH. 

The car they’d rented was in the middle of nowhere, the tire stuck in thick mud, which had forced them to leave it behind. Then again that was her fault. Sherlock’s driving was meticulous, the sort of goal-orientated driving one would find in a driving instructor who was nearing their late sixties and had seen many wild teenagers behind the wheel. She was that wild teenager, more or less trying to get that big monster of a car out of the dire situation she’d gotten it into to begin with. 

To no avail of course. 

The keys being stolen out of her pocket, wasn’t her fault, especially when he’d forced her to handle everything regarding people when they’d found the nearest tiny little village. 

Then they’d been disturbing the piece (that was definitely him), making a ruckus in an otherwise quiet little place where people stared at the disheveled pair of them like newcomers weren’t a thing. Nobody knew who he was, which was rather nice for once, but her sweet smiles still did not help them from being locked up  - - despite Mycroft trying to help them out. 


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Three Wishes

Here’s a little Sherlock John bromance with loads of Sherlolly feels. Thanks to @mizjoely for her help! Can also be found on FF.net and AO3. It’s a tiny bit sweary. Enjoy ~Lil~

They had been sitting in the small out building for almost two hours when John finally broke. “Fuck, I’m bored!” he said, rubbing both hands over his face.

Sherlock just continued to stare out the one and only window at the seemingly unoccupied house.

“Did you hear me, Sherlock. I said I’m bored!”

His friend sighed and glanced in his direction. “I heard you, John, as you’re sitting less than three feet away from me. But your boredom is not my concern. This is why you need a mind palace. I’ve solved three cases whilst we’ve waited and devised several new ways to annoy my brother.”

“I don’t want a bloody mind palace,” John complained. “I want this stake-out to be over.”

Stake-out.” Sherlock huffed. “This isn’t an episode of Miami Vice, John.”

“When was the last time you watched telly, Sherlock?”

Once again, the detective ignored his friend. Several minutes went by, then John got an idea. “Three wishes!” he blurted.


“If you could have three things, without consequences, what would they be?” John asked.

“A quieter assistant…”

“No I’m serious.”

“So am I,” Sherlock replied dryly.

“I’d wish for Mary’s past to stay hidden… forever and for her to never have to worry about it again.”

Sherlock finally took his eyes off of the building that they were watching, though keeping it in his peripheral vision, and looked at John carefully. “I thought…”

“It’s fine, Sherlock. Just play the damn game before I lose my mind.”

“All right, let’s see… I wish cigarettes were healthy. That they made your breath fresh and put a spring in your step.”

“You’re an arsehole…”

“It’s your game,” Sherlock said, looking at the house with a smirk on his lips. “What else do you wish for, John?”

“To never worry about money again.”

Once again Sherlock looked at his friend with a bit of concern on his face.

John rolled his eyes. Of course he doesn’t get it. “I have a child now, Sherlock,” he said patiently. “I worry about money and… things.”

The detective nodded.

“All right, two more,” John demanded.

“A neverending supply of cases. All nines.”

John smirked. “What, not tens?”

“I’m not greedy, for heaven’s sake.” He chuckled and John joined in. “One more and we can be done with this foolishness.”

John paused. “Ah… for you and my sister to be clean and sober… completely clean and sober, forever.”

“Way to kill the mood, John.”

“I’m serious.”

“Yes, I know. I thought this was supposed to be fun…”

“One more, come on,” John said.

There was a long pause before Sherlock finally spoke again. He kept his eyes focused on the house and said, “I wish… that Molly Hooper was still in love with me.”

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Dear Amanda Abbington

I’m up at 5:28 in the morning, 01/27/2014, Eastern Standard Time, and there’s angry people on my tumblr dashboard.

And okay, alright, sure, man. That’s not new or anything. Patriarchy’s still there. Racial friction is still there. Except that it’s not social justice on my dash, it’s BBC Sherlock, fans, and chimps in socks. Fans are angry at you, fans are angry at other fans, fans are angry at–what, really?

I feel like it’s not your fault. I actually feel pretty bad when all this happens, on everyone’s part: fans are upset and hurt and tired of being upset and hurt but it’s not really their fault, while you’re–I dunno, sassy and defensive and still pretty bold, and that’s cool, you do you. But I mostly feel like it’s just because there’s a divide between Sherlock’s fans and the people who actually make the show, and I don’t understand why there needs to be one. I feel like there’s a key miscommunication error happening here.

And now that I’m thinking about the relationship between you and us, there’s a hell of a lot to cover.

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