what would sherlock say

I’m alone
i’m unwanted
i’m undesired
i’m worthless
i’m a burden
i’m a freak
i’m an anomaly
i’m the problem

“you’re not alone. you are loved. I’ll always be here for you”

Sherlock belongs to us now

Seriously, the writers essentially gave Sherlock William Scott Holmes to us. 

Moffat and Gatiss completed their part in his story, and set up each happy ending that we could want.  Now, it’s up to us all to make that happy ending into the story we all want to see.  No one’s end wasn’t real.  No lies were told.  All I Love You’s and texts and caresses gave us all exactly what we wanted and they were all as real as we want them to be.  Sherlock belongs to us now. 

Steven and Mark are finished telling the story they wanted to tell.  Now it’s our turn to continue that into whatever we wish.  Don’t talk yourself out of your happiness.  We all deserve our happy endings.

“John?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you…?” Sherlock blushes. “Can you call me what you called me earlier?”

John’s brow knits as he tries to remember. “What did I call you?”

“You’re going to make me say it?”

“Well, how else would I know what you mean if you don’t say it?”

Sherlock yields. “Earlier…when you came to kiss me good morning,” He hesitates. “I was working on an experiment and you called me a-”

“Busy Bee?”

Sherlock reddens further. “Y-Yes.” He clears his throat. “But could you just call me…?”

John raises his brows slightly. “Bee?”

When Sherlock nods, he ducks his head shyly. “Yes…”

John’s face loses any and all tension, his entire face softens in a way that it only ever does for Sherlock. “Of course,” He smiles. “You’re my bee.” John laughs fondly when Sherlock makes the smallest, shyest sound and covers his face. “My honey bee.”

“Okay, thank you – that’s enough!” Sherlock couldn’t be redder if he tried.

“What the matter, bumble bee?”

Sherlock is about to tell John that the nicknames needed to stop – because there must be a limit to this. It’s embarrassing to be this flustered by simple pet names.

But before he got a chance, he felt John’s face press into his neck. And then, Sherlock felt tiny, tickling vibrations on his skin.

John was buzzing, making soft buzzing noises into Sherlock’s neck. “Bzzz!”

Sherlock yelps and then involuntarily giggles.

“J-John..!”

Mrs. Hudson is hardly surprised when she comes upstairs and finds the two of them writhing about on the sofa, with John buzzing over Sherlock’s skin and Sherlock giggling into John’s.  

Sherlock [caressing Molly’s thigh]: You’ve gained three pounds since we started dating.

Molly [blushing]: What kind of exercises would you recommend?

Sherlock [smirks]: You want me to say it?

Molly [blushing harder]: Stop that.

John: Come with us, they said.

John: It’ll be fun, they said.

Ok but can you imagine Sherlock being insecure with his looks and that’s why he overcompensates by wearing expensive suits but actually he hates how he looks and every time John compliments him he doesn’t look pleased and would stay quiet and expressionless until one time when John said a passing compliment and at that point Sherlock snaps

“John, enough! I get it, it’s hilarious that you call me beautiful because it’s a great ironic joke because I obviously look soo weird, I look like an alien. Ha-bloody-ha, now would you please just drop it. I already know I’m ugly, I don’t need you to remind me every single time.”

@johnlockismyreligion @simpleanddestructivechemistry @10moonymhrivertam @trained-cormorant

The Two Sherlocks

For the World’s Most Patient Anon:  What if Sherlock is captured by Eurus (?) and the reader must solve her puzzle in order to save him - with whatever little she’s learned from being with him. She must decide who is the real Sherlock in a room with two; shoot one or die all together.

Thank you so much to this amazing Anon for this amazing idea and for holding me to task. I strayed a bit from the request, so I hope you don’t mind! And thank you to the gorgeous and talented @igottomuchfreetimeonmyhands who dropped everything to help me finish it! 

Without further ado, I give you my first story in months: THE TWO SHERLOCKS

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Mary is acting out ‘a post- Reichenbach’ Sherlock

The ultimate revenge. She jets off around the world, seemingly to keep John safe… just like Sherlock did in The Reichenbach Fall. 

Except, here comes the diabolical bit. This is Mary taunting Sherlock, twisting the knife in further: she is saying all the things Sherlock wanted to say when he came back to John in The Empty Hearse, but couldn’t.

That’s why her letter to John is so melodramatic: She is mocking Sherlock, imitating what  he would be like writing such a love letter to John. Just make a few alterations and imaging this is Sherlock writing to John, if he was able to let him know that he was simply ‘leaving’ during The Reichenbach Fall:

My darling, I need to tell you this because you mustn’t hate me for going away.  I gave myself permission to have an ordinary life. I’m not running, I promise you that, I just need to do this in my own way.  But I don’t want you and Sherlock hanging off my gun arm, I’m sorry, my love. I know you’ll try to find me but there is no point. Every move is random and not even Sherlock Holmes you can anticipate the roll of a dice. I need to move the target far, far away from you and Rosie, and then I’ll come back, my darling. I swear I will.

Sherlock was trying to ‘give himself permission’ to have ‘an ordinary life’, to fall in love.

And then, Mary goes one step further. She imitates what Sherlock would have liked to say to John during his reunion with him in The Empty Hearse:

You’re always a good man, John, I’ve never doubted that. You never judge, you never complain. I don’t deserve you, I… All I ever wanted to do was keep you and Rosie safe, that’s all.

This is her revenge, excruciatingly painful for Sherlock. She is throwing all of his deeply intimate, unspoken words out into the open, spitting them back in his face. She is saying: See? This is what could have happened to you, but it didn’t. You’ve failed. 

Oh, she is wicked, that one.

Every Song Reminds Me of You

It starts in the shower.  There’s something about the acoustics in the bathroom, combined with the rush of water, that has always enticed John to sing.  Any song will do — from childhood favourites to whatever he’s most recently heard on the radio.  Whether John remembers the lyrics or not doesn’t matter; he’s quite capable of making up his own.

So, that’s how it starts.  The water cascades down over John’s body as he belts out his personal version of Amy Winehouse’s Valerie:

Since I’ve come on home
Well, my body’s been a mess
And I’ve missed your curly hair
And the way you like to dress

Won’t you come on over
Stop treating me like I’m your toy
Why don’t you come on over my Posh Boy?
My Posh Boy, my Posh Boy, my Posh Boy…

Huh… Where did that come from? John wonders idly as he towels off.  Posh Boy…  


The next morning, John has The Beach Boys stuck in his head, but the lyrics that spill out of his mouth in the shower become:

Well, Posh Boy, you look so fine
And I know it wouldn’t take much time
For you to help me, Posh Boy
Help me get her out of my heart

Help me, Posh Boy
Help, help me, Posh Boy
Help me, Posh Boy
Help, help me, Posh Boy

John laughs to himself as he borrows Sherlock’s overpriced shampoo, and keeps on singing.

Help me, Posh Boy
Help, help me, Posh Boy
Help me, Posh Boy
Help, help me, Posh Boy

Help me, Posh Boy
Help, help me, Posh Boy
Help me, Posh Boy, yeah
Get her out of my heart


Soon, John finds that he can’t hear a single song without unconsciously changing the lyrics to include his new secret nickname for Sherlock.  Singing in the shower is one thing, but now these songs have started taking over his life.  

John hates Justin Bieber, but this damn song was playing on the radio in the cab and he just can’t get it out of his head:

‘Cause if you like the way you look that much
Oh, Posh Boy, you should go and love yourself
And if you think that I’m still holdin’ on
Well, Posh Boy, you should go and love yourself

At first, John is glad when he hears an equally catchy tune, thinking it will save him from the horrors of Justin Bieber.  Unfortunately, Train has turned the melody of Heart and Soul into an ear-worm that he just can’t shake.

Posh Boy song
The one that makes me go all night long
The one that makes me think of you
That’s all you gotta do

Hey, Posh Boy song
The one the makes me stay out till dawn
The one that makes me go oooh
That’s all you gotta do


As if that wasn’t bad enough, John rapidly discovers that everyday events are now becoming song cues.  Laying the fire on a chilly night leads to an internal:

You know that it would be untrue
You know that I would be a liar
If I was to say to you
Boy, we couldn’t get much higher
Come on, Posh Boy, light my fire
Come on, Posh Boy, light my fire
Try to set the night on fire

And each time Sherlock does something inconsiderate or foolhardy, John silently channels Hall & Oates:

You’re a Posh Boy, and you’ve gone too far
‘Cause you know it don’t matter anyway

John snickers to himself at the thought of what Sherlock would say if he could hear the soundtrack in John’s mind.


It’s only in the shower that John allows himself to sing out loud.  That’s where he’s always felt free to let go of all of his inhibitions.  Lately, though, the songs that come to him seem to be filled with a meaning he might not be ready to face.

When you were a young boy
Did you have a puppy
That always followed you around?
Well, I’m gonna be as faithful as that puppy
No, I’ll never let you down

‘Cause it grows stronger, like a river flows
And it gets bigger, Posh Boy, heaven knows
And it gets sweeter, Posh Boy, as it grows

And do I love you, my oh my?
Yeah, river deep, mountain high
If I lost you would I cry
Oh, how I love you, Posh Boy
Posh Boy, Posh Boy, Posh Boy

That one he shrugs off by telling himself that it was triggered by Donovan comparing him to a puppy following Sherlock around.  The next one he figures is just an expression of his lifelong admiration of Paul McCartney:  

And when I go away
I know my heart can stay with Posh Boy
It’s understood
It’s in the hands of Posh Boy
And Posh Boy does it good
Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa, whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa
Posh Boy does it good

And when the cupboard’s bare
I’ll still find something there with Posh Boy
It’s understood
It’s everywhere with Posh Boy
And Posh Boy does it good
Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa, whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa
Posh Boy does it good

Whoa-whoa, I love, oh-whoa, Posh Boy
Only Posh Boy holds the other key to me
Oh-whoa, Posh Boy, oh-oh, Posh Boy
Only Posh Boy does it good to me
Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa, whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa
Posh Boy does it good

John is just a huge fan of Paul McCartney.  That’s all.


Each morning, behind the muffling safety of the water, John runs through one song after another.  As time goes by, he washes away his denial.  John is in love with a Posh Boy.

John is in love with Sherlock.


It’s bound to happen eventually, and one day it does: John starts singing as he makes tea.

Posh Boy says
Only fools rush in
But I can’t help
Falling in love with him

There’s a gasp from behind him, and John whirls around to see Sherlock sitting at the table.  In a blind panic, John dashes from the kitchen, races up the stairs, and shuts himself in his room.  The only song running through his mind now is shite, shite, shite, shite, shite, shite, shite…

Idiot! John berates himself.  Why did you run off like that?  You could have bluffed your way through this like it meant nothing, but no, you had to go and turn it into a Huge Fucking Deal.  Fuckity fucking fuck!

John hears Sherlock’s footsteps on the stairs and frantically casts around for an excuse for his behaviour.  Hmm…  He thought he heard someone breaking into his room.  Yeah.  That’s why he ran up here.  John grabs his gun and aims it at the window, freezing in a pose that will show Sherlock that he’s managed to scare off the intruder.    

Sherlock doesn’t enter the room, though.  Instead, he pauses outside the door and begins to sing.  It takes a minute for John’s fevered brain to register what he’s hearing.

Doctor, doctor, give me the news
I’ve got a bad case of lovin’ you…


This was written for @alexxphoenix42‘s prompt: “John calls Sherlock his Posh Boy as MUCH AS POSSIBLE.”  Check out the other responses to her prompts at the alexxphoenix42 appreciation collection.

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Love Story Duet - Requested

As the lights went down and the music started playing, Sherlock found himself immerse in his own thoughts. He was putting his violin inside the case, knowing that he was meant to leave the party before anyone noticed.

He had made the announcement, or at least he had felt it as an announcement, by telling John and Mary about their future baby. The couple were ecstatic, dancing around like a pair of love birds ready to grow their nest. It was so romantic Sherlock had to walk away and stop watching.

Of course, leaving the party hadn’t been precisely his first choice. He had thought of dancing – because he was an excellent dancer and he actually enjoyed it – but Molly had a boyfriend, Mrs. Hudson had been paired up by John with his grand-father and Janine was nowhere to be found.

Sherlock had also thought of sitting with someone to chat until John payed attention to him again, but the only single person there that Sherlock actually knew about was Lestrade and Sherlock didn’t feel like exchanging any sort of conversation with him and his awfully low-functioning self. Socializing with someone new was definitely off the list.

Therefore, Sherlock looked for Janine all around the party, only to find out that she had actually listened to his advice and was now dancing with one of the five bachelors Sherlock recommended. She looked happy, she was truly enjoying that man’s company and the only attention she gave to Sherlock was a mouthed “thank you” from afar.

Sherlock then realized that he had already played his part on that show and was now time to leave the scene. He was no longer required there, at least not for the night, that is. And so he took his violin case, got his coat on and tied his scarf.

“Care to dance?” A female voice asked shyly. Sherlock turned around to meet a beautiful, doll-faced woman expecting for an answer.

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Wedding rings and intermittent tremors

Thanks to bartimaeu2s for pointing out the way John is rubbing his left hand here. So what might we deduce about this?

Well, the first thought that comes to mind is that it’s John’s ring hand. He’s only been wearing his wedding band for a few hours now, so he’s highly aware of it. 

But this is also John’s “intermittent tremor” hand. Click on that link and you’ll see just how often Martin incorporates this particular character tic into his performance. You see it when John is feeling vulnerable. And here, seated next to his new wife, near the end of Sherlock’s speech, John seems to be really feeling it. So much so that it’s not an unconscious twitch, but something he’s so aware of, he’s trying to massage it out.

Interesting.

This directly follows Sherlock dropping his champagne glass, so it’s hard not to get sucked into his POV, particularly since he spends an extended period of time in his MP. But for everyone else, this all passes by in a few seconds. Let’s back up and take a look at what’s going on from John’s POV.

“Today begin the adventures of Mary Elizabeth Watson and John Hamish Watson.”

Does anyone see joy or excitement there? I see a man bracing himself, eyes full of uncertainty. And let’s not forget his discomfort with his middle name (just one of a few secrets John would prefer to stay secret, sexy. *wink*).

“The two reasons why every one of us is…here today." 

*glass breaks*

(Can’t overlook the symbolism here – raising a glass to toast a marriage only to have the glass shatter. Slipping this into my increasingly large "proof the Watsons are doomed” file.)

Sherlock is visibly flustered as he accepts a new glass and tries to get back on track while Mycroft is still in his mind, telling him something is going to happen. Here’s the next time we see John, who (like everyone else in the room) is wondering what the hell is going on with Sherlock right now.

Hang on, look closer…

Either John’s playing table spider, or the tremor’s already bothering him. So in the last 10ish seconds, Sherlock has announced Mr. and Mrs. Watson for the first time, John visibly displayed signs of uncertainty and fear, Sherlock became so unhinged he dropped his champagne glass, and now John’s so-called “post traumatic stress” tremor is back.

(Is anyone really still on Team Platonic? I just…anyway.)

Remember, no one in the room knows that Sherlock is trying to figure out the Mayfly Man mystery right now, including John. To them, Sherlock’s just acting kinda batshit. Well, more so than usual. Next, he tells the room he’s just asked to stand, to sit back down.

“And down again…”

This is beautiful. Mary and Janine both stare out at the crowd with similar WTF expressions, and Janine hesitates before starting to sit.

John literally bows his head with Sherlock’s hands like a goddamn puppet. Doesn’t matter what the reason, doesn’t matter how bizarre the order, John just does what Sherlock says. For fuck’s sake, John wasn’t even standing to begin with, and he still “obeyed,” bowing his head and lowering his eyes as if in prayer.

“Ladies and gentlemen, people tell you not to milk a good speech.”

Can’t see John’s hand…but Sherlock clenches his.

“Get off early, leave ‘em laughing…”

John glances at Mary, insert joke about getting off here, still can’t see John’s hand but it must be bothering him because—

“Wise advice I’ll certainly try to bear in mind, but for now…Part Two!”

—he starts to massage the tremor out.

“Part Two’s a bit more action-based. I’m gonna walk around, shake things up a bit.”

Part two. The next chapter. A bigger adventure, a new, unbroken glass, massaging the tremor out, facing fears and uncertainties, shaking things up – that’s where we’re heading now.

Could be all over-analyzation, all coincidence. But we all know what Mycroft would say to that. ;)

thelostsmiles  asked:

Rosie gets her heart broken by her first crush. Sherlock can't stand her crying so he goes to fine the kid. He's ready to mess them up...but then he finds to his senses and realizes they're only 10 years old :) What would Sherlock say or do?

Extra plot twist, the kid who broke her heart was a spitting image of his younger self: introverted, seems to be very socially awkward, loves to read books so he’s always alone coz all the other kids usually love to play together, acts like a lone wolf but Sherlock knew this kid is like that because the kid is actually scared and felt like he didn’t fit in. Sherlock knew that this kid probably broke Rosie’s heart not on purpose, but because this kid thought being alone was safer.

So Sherlock asked him what book he was reading, and then starts asking him about the book, he treats the kid like an equal, because he knew the last thing the kid needed was to feel patronized or ridiculed. By the end of it, they were friends in a way, the same way Archie and Sherlock were friends. So Sherlock told him how his words had inadvertently hurt Rosie. The kid said he didn’t think Rosie meant it, he assumed she was dared to do it by her friends as some kind of cruel joke. Sherlock tells him he understands how the kid felt because he was just the same, but then reassured the kid that Rosie meant what she said and Rosie really did want him to be her friend. Sherlock explains that Rosie always tells stories about him, “the smartest and coolest kid in class” was her description. The next day, the kid apologizes to Rosie and offered her his sandwich as a symbol of his apology. Rosie says she doesn’t want to take his lunch but would love to have lunch together with him. He says yes. Rosie shifted her seat, leaving some space for him to sit and Rosie and him and Rosie’s other friends sat together for lunch. Later that day when she comes home from school, Rosie happily talks to her dads about her new friend

Sherlock x Reader: Meet The Family

Request by anon: ‘Hi! Can I request a Sherlock x Reader one shot where the reader meets Sherlock’s parents and Mycroft? Thanks, love your blog.’

A/N: This is a great idea! Thank you for the request. This is my first request as well. x

Warnings: Panic attack.


“Y/N!” You heard a voice yell from upstairs. You sighed and climbed up stairs before putting the milk you had bought from the shop into the fridge beside a severed head. You were not surprised by body parts lying around the flat anymore.

“Y/N,” Sherlock repeated. He was putting on his long coat and wrapping a scarf around his neck. “Now the milk is there I will not have anywhere to put the thumbs!”

“Well Sherlock,” You said putting your hands on your hips. “When you start buying the milk, then you can complain where it gets put.” He rolled his eyes.

“It will go off while we are away. Don’t take your coat off, Y/N. We are going out. I have packed your suitcase and we are catching the next train.”

“I’m sorry?”

“The suitcase is on the bed. A taxi is taking us to the train station, do hurry up. I will explain on the train.”

 

“Sherlock answer me!” You were sat on the train, the scenery whizzing by. Sherlock had not yet told you the meaning of the visit or where you were going.

“Mind palace, Y/N,” Was his reply.

“You’re not in your mind palace! If you were you would not do it on a train as it is ‘too distracting’ and you would have told me to go away.” He sighed.

“We are going to see my family,” He mumbled.

“I’m sorry?”

“Family Y/N! We are seeing my family. My mother, father and… Brother.”

“I didn’t even know you had a brother!” You said smiling. “Sherlock this is wonderful! Wait are they like you? Will they like me? I’m not as smart as you are, is that a problem? I’m not even dressed that nice! What will I do?” You put your head in your hands.

“I’m sure they’ll like you Y/N,” Sherlock reassured you, putting a hand on your arm. “Maybe not Mycroft. He’s like me in the fact that we hate everyone. Mycroft, who is practically the British Government and I’m not exaggerating, found out about you and let it slip to my parents. So naturally, they wanted to meet my girlfriend.“ You smiled at this. You were about to ask him another question but you knew he probably wasn’t listening.

 

Fifteen minutes. There were fifteen minutes left of the train journey and you were stressing out. Your breathing became heavy and you were feeling light headed.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Sherlock asked raising an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah,” You replied with a fake smile plastered to your face. “Excuse me.” You practically jumped up from your seat and ran into the train’s toilet and locked the door. Luckily for you, it was free. Tears were running down your face and your breathing was becoming uncontrollable. Thoughts were running through your head. You managed to get your breathing under control however tears were still cascading down your beautiful face. You thought of Sherlock and what he would say so you quickly dried your eyes and made sure you looked okay before returning to him. You had never had a panic attack in front of him before so you were scared he would call you weak.

“Y/N…” He said when he returned.

“What is it?” You said trying to give a convincing smile.

“You know what it is.”

“Well I’m fine.”

“No. You’re not.”

“Sherlock leave it!” You snapped. “Sorry,” you mumbled when a look of hurt flashed across his face. He gave you a look of sympathy. “Can we just forget it happened?”

“No.”

 

After grabbing your luggage and leaving the train Sherlock wrapped his arms around you.

“I know you’re scared of what I think of you.”

“Well-”

“No Y/N, let me speak. I know you think that I do not love you or think of you as weak but I do not. I respect you and you know I do not respect many people. I have not lost any respect for you just because of this.”

“Sherlock I-”

“Y/N. I thought I was not capable of love and I considered myself as heartless but you have proved my hypothesis to be incorrect. So I love you. And love is caring for someone no matter what.” You smiled and hugged him tighter.

 

You both arrived at the Holmes residence which was a beautiful country house. Sherlock knocked on the door and it swung open. An elderly woman stood there.

“Sherlock!” She said and threw her arms around him. “I have missed you.”

“Hello mummy,” He said as quiet as possible. ‘Mummy?’ You thought to yourself. However much he tried to deny it, you could now always say he was a mummy’s boy.

“And this must be Y/N!” She said pulling away from Sherlock. Sherlock moved out the way so you could meet his mother.  

“Hello Mrs Holmes,” You said smiling and you held out your hand. She ignored your hand and hugged you as well.

“Beautiful as well as kind. Sherlock, just wait until she sees your father!” She scuttled into the kitchen when you glanced at Sherlock who was given you a smile of reassurance.

“I told you she’d like you,” He said.

“Oh please Sherlock,” you replied. “She’s only just met me. I haven’t even met your dad or brother yet!” He was about to say something before Mr Holmes came.

“Ah this must be Y/N,” He said with a beaming smile and held out his hand.

“It’s nice to meet you Mr Holmes,” You said returning the smile. He then greeted his son.

“Mycroft dear!” Mrs Holmes shouted to someone upstairs. “Do come down and meet Y/N”

“Why?” You heard a voice shout back. “I know everything about her already!” He had a very posh voice.

“If I say come down, it means come down!” She shook her head. “Honestly, he thinks that because he runs the country he runs this house! Well I can tell you he is not.” She chuckled. “Where are my manners? Would you like a cup of tea?” As soon as she spoke a tall man came downstairs.

“Miss Y/N L/N,” He said and you shook hands. “We meet at last. Hello Sherlock.”

“Hello Mycroft,” The younger Holmes brother replied. There was a brief moment of silence between them. You could tell there was tension between the two.

“Oh do get on boys!” Mrs Holmes said. “Y/N doesn’t need your sibling rivalry while she’s here! Now how about that cup of tea?”

 

After dinner, the Holmes parents had gotten the photo albums out. Sherlock had refused to stay and look at the pictures out of embarrassment.

“… And this is Sherlock when he first got his violin,” Sherlock’s mum said proudly. “He has always been a star on the strings.”

“No,” Said Mycroft. “He really wasn’t. You should have heard him when he was first learning. Dreadful.”

“Oh and here is one where Mycroft met his baby brother or the first time!” She said which shut Mycroft up.

“And this is where I leave you,” Mycroft got up and left the room.

“They were adorable,” You commented on the photos she had just shown her. “I think I’m going to go and see how Sherlock is.” You smiled at the pair and went to find your lover.

“How do you find Y/N?” Mrs Holmes asked her husband when you left the room.

“I love her,” He replied. “She is kind, intelligent, has a good sense of humour and I never thought Sherlock would meet someone who would make him truly happy.”

“I feel the same. We may even have a chance at having grandkids!”

 

You knocked on the door to Sherlock’s bedroom and you heard him mumble come in. He was sat in a chair at a desk in the corner of the room reading a book.

“Your parents are lovely,” You stated. “And your brother is an… Interesting character.” He chuckled.

“And I told you they would love you,” He replied. “I was right once again.”

Have you foreseen chapter fourteen?

Not Entirely Clueless

Sherlock Holmes, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and a gay disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence; yet he had lived nearly twenty-one years in the world with very little to interest or intrigue him. And then the murders began.

Chapter Fourteen

It would be impossible to say what Sherlock felt, on hearing this — which of all his unpleasant sensations was uppermost. He was too completely overpowered to be immediately able to reply: and two moments of silence being ample encouragement for Mr. Moriarty’s sanguine state of mind, he tried to take Sherlock’s hand again, as he joyously exclaimed —  "Charming Mr. Holmes! Allow me to interpret this interesting silence. It confesses that you have long understood me.”


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My Own Personal Hero (Sherlock X Fem!Reader)

Characters: Sherlock X Fem!Reader

Universe: Sherlock

Warnings: Murder, panic attack, claustrophobia.

ANGST AND FLUFF

Request: Sherlock x reader. Sherlocks girlfriend come by the flat to pick up a few things and ends up getting dragged into the final problem. If at the end you could do it so her and John get separated. Could you make so she’s clostraphobic  


Originally posted by caffeinerebelqueen

You had come by 221B Baker street to get your coat that you had left yesterday and in the pocket was your wallet so you couldn’t wait. You ran to the apartment and let yourself in, announcing to Mrs Hudson it was only you, and she called a good morning back before you ran up the stairs and let yourself into the apartment.

John was sat at the desk on his computer, Sherlock not there. “Good morning John.” You called. He looked up and smiled.

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The Mary hallucination that John sees is not John’s thoughts. It’s the fragments of memories John has of Mary, it’s what John thinks Mary is. It’s her likeness, it’s what John thinks Mary would say. So when Mary says “Sherlock should’ve worn the hat” or “ the kids would love the hat” it’s not because John agrees with the opinion that the kids would love the hat, it’s merely what John imagine Mary would say if she were still there. And it’s not odd or strange for John to have those thoughts, he’s still grieving, her death was sudden so of course he’ll miss her and he still thinks about her