johnlockifconvenient

[johnlockifconvenient]

shoutout👆

[johnlockifconvenient]

ME!!!! 🗣️😦 IN COURT!!!! ⚖️ ON TUESDAY!!!! 🗓️ THEY’RE 🇬🇧😡👹🇬🇧😡👹GIVING🇬🇧😡👹ME🇬🇧😡👹AN 🇬🇧😡🇬🇧 ASBO 🇬🇧😡🇬🇧👹😡🇬🇧

[johnlockifconvenient]

Irene’s text to Sherlock: happy birthday you big gay twink ✨ Have you told him you love him yet? lol better do it soon now that you’re getting old 🎈🎂❤️💛💚💙💜💖🎂🎈🏳️‍🌈

[johnlockifconvenient]

by the way. if they hadn’t shown the teh scene differently onscreen. you know the one: them standing over a bomb neither of them knew how to stop. if they had just skipped from that to the next scene, alive and happy, i would have assumed that they made-out sloppy-style and the power of love made even the bomb say aight. you got me there 🥲

[johnlockifconvenient]

uhhhh sherlock thinks john is a privilege to know… probably one he thinks he doesn’t deserve

[johnlockifconvenient]

‘tis the day, etc etc

[johnlockifconvenient]

i love you stupidity i love you foolishness i love you gullibility

[johnlockifconvenient]

[johnlockifconvenient]

THE FINAL PROBLEM - part 8

THE FINAL PROBLEM - part 8 of many - - part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7.

"It was the sight of that Alpine-stock which turned me cold and sick."

Forgive me for ending this update in the middle of a conversation, but the next one will be LONG long. (I won't ask you to forgive me for anything else)

This is in the Watson's Sketchbook series!

[johnlockifconvenient]

really disorienting being in two fandoms with a husband and wife named John and Mary. I’ll get halfway through reading a post before I realize it’s about the OTHER dysfunctional couple

[johnlockifconvenient]

Keira Knightley covers Netflix's Queue Magazine in promotion of their new series, Black Doves. (2024)

[johnlockifconvenient]

Sherlock fandom.

When You Lose Yourself

“John. Wake up. You’re here. Safe. Home.”

Sherlock’s dark and hoarse voice was full of worry. He knew he mustn’t touch John when he has a nightmare. It could end badly. John might perceive Sherlock as a threat to his own safety, lost in the Afghan desert as he was.

“Please, John.”

He raised his voice, desperate to get through to his lover, but still John was lost to him. His wailing broke Sherlock’s heart.

Violin. Get your violin.

Sherlock’s inner voice coaxed him into action. Swiftly, though reluctantly, he left the bedroom and picked up his violin from the case. Soon, Bach’s Lullaby sounded in the sitting room. His instinct told him to stay there instead of returning to their bedroom. John wasn’t accustomed to hearing it in there, which probably would confuse him.

Familiarity is what John needed.

“I know,” Sherlock answered himself through gritted teeth, and continued playing John’s favourites.

His entire body longed to be close to John, but he heeded John’s previous warnings.

“I hurt Sarah when she tried to wake me from a nightmare. Gave her a black eye, and her throat was bruised for more than a week.”

After that, John had stopped dating, and it took him an agonising six months agreeing to share Sherlock’s bed. He always went up to his room when they’d had sex, though, too afraid to assault Sherlock in his sleep. When Sherlock had protested, vehemently so, John just set his jaw, and refused to listen.

“Anything could happen, Sherlock. It was horrifying enough what I did to Sarah. I didn’t love her. But you…no, I just can’t.”

It had been an accident when John fell asleep in Sherlock’s bed the first time. He’d been exhausted and sleep-deprived, just as Sherlock had been. The case was solved, but in the aftermath, after John had been abducted, again, they craved to be close. It wasn’t sexual. They needed to assure themselves that they’d got through it unscathed.

John had panicked the morning after, but Sherlock told him to shut it, and stop being an idiot. So, that was the end of them sleeping alone.

The nightmare came as a shock. Sherlock had naively thought that his presence would keep them at bay.

Stupid. Stupid!

He realised that his anxiousness could be heard in his playing, so he zoomed in, focused solely on the music. He didn’t know how much time had passed when he heard John’s voice.

“You are so beautiful when you lose yourself like this.”

Sherlock blinked but didn’t stop playing. When the piece ended, he lowered his bow and violin, placed the items in his chair, and opened his arms. John came willingly and they stood close for an eternity, not speaking, just breathing and wallowing in the other man’s familiar scent and form.

“Thanks for not trying to touch me,” John said finally. “Did you speak?”

“Yes,” Sherlock whispered, still heartbroken that he couldn’t wake John from his night terrors.

“I’m sorry, my love,” John murmured and caressed Sherlock’s cheek.

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault, John. I…I just felt so…helpless. I’m supposed to solve puzzles, be the smartest man in the room at any given time, but ��� “

“Shh. This is not a case, Sherlock. It’s trauma. And…well, it can’t be fixed, not entirely at least.”

He took a firm grip of Sherlock’s upper arms, urging his beloved detective to look at him.

“It is better than it was. Before I met you, it happened every night. When I moved in with you, they only appeared once or twice a week. And now, I’ve shared your bed for almost a month. What does that tell you?”

Sherlock looked down at his best friend, his blogger, his doctor, his captain, his John, seeing nothing but love and affection on his face. Gone was the agony from half an hour ago. He gave John a smile, and the one he got in return could light up all of London.

Instead of answering the question they both knew the answer to, Sherlock cradled John’s face with his hands and kissed him. Strong arms pulled him closer, and when they returned to the bedroom, an uncertain number of minutes later, Sherlock’s anxiety had evaporated. Tightly tangled in each other’s limbs, they slept without any interruptions until the sun bathed their sanctuary in a golden light the following morning.

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[johnlockifconvenient]

Andrew Scott Moriarty I love you so much you freak

[johnlockifconvenient]

in a stroke of art, my ap chemistry teacher accidentally sent our class a picture of her cat

[johnlockifconvenient]

“Happy New Year, John”