i think that we, as a society, put so much shame in rejection/not being reciprocated in your feelings that now many people see that as the worst thing in the world to ever happen, even in books. as if the lack of love is the most devastating thing you could find.
meanwhile, i think the possibly more heartbreaking thing there could ever be is reciprocated love. it’s a love that is there, the love is there, it just can’t happen. they both love each other but they can’t kiss, they can’t hold hands, they can’t say it out loud but they both know. the love is there.
“oh but x never loved y that’s why he did that!” i hate this type of accusations, x loved y and he did that anyway, the love was there, aziraphale loves crowley and he still went to heaven, the master loved the doctor and he still will never forgive him, sherlock loves john and he still hurt him, how do you cope with that? if you know that the love is there, what explanation can you find now behind those actions? i care about you and i still will hurt you and i will make bad choices and i love you and i will claw my way out of my own skin if i ever have to say that out loud.
and you still look at him, you still yearn for him and you pretend not to see the hand that lingers a bit too long on your shoulder and you pretend to adjust his tie just to catch a glimpse of his bare neck on your fingertips. i can’t, i can’t.
Sherlock finally finds John's confidential file, with all the information about his childhood, his abusive father,his military journey, and the constant voice of solitude....until....
Please allow me to skip #FreemanFriday this week for a John gift.
This video and the story are my way to thank you for all your support, kindness, and messages this past week.
I found some healing in the process, and I guarantee you a happy ending.
In the very beginning of A Study in Scarlet, Watson mentions an orderly named Murray who saved his life.
I saw a post somewhere suggesting that Murray was Mina's father. I really like that idea. I would want to write a fic about it, only I have no idea what it would be about. All I can think of is Murray dying of his injuries, and asking Watson to make sure whatever money he has goes to his daughter, so Watson arranges it that Mina gets sent to school so she'll be taken care of and can later provide for herself, with whatever she inherited from her father paying for her tuition (and Sherlock Holmes generously donating a few years later when Watson mentioned how the daughter of his old friend didn't have enough left of her inheritance to complete her schooling).
Ok for some reason my brain is hyper focusing on Johnlock again like I won't regret it 2-3 business days from now when I come out of it with 5 new open AO3 tabs (out of my already 156 open AO3 tabs not counting other unfinished/unread fic/fic I've not caught up on, full disclosure) for fic that I probably won't finish reading and/or while being unable to find the. Very Specific. fic I want to read and just having like an open half-filtered tab... But Anyway.
Here's a Very Rare Johnlock Post from me lol
Imagine after all the seasons are over and Johnlock are old and have finally talked about their feelings and properly, actually, gotten officially together
(and subsequently gotten married in like 2 months cause Sherlock filled out the paperwork while John was not actually at home and then actually having a discussion about it when John finds out it happened cause Sherlock casually mentions it and actually agrees after Sherlock mentions (read: steamrolls over him, anxiously) them practically already being married by common law and just officialising it for the tax benefits... they only have a proper wedding, maybe on their/an anniversary when Mrs Hudson finds out probably 6 months later or sth and complains,, but I've gone on a tangent again)
Anyway Rosie is a teenager, with after-school activities and a phone.
I'm just imagining Sherlock dragging John out on a murder case (read: date) and deciding to feed him midway through (like always, tbh,, sth sth that post about feeding the depressed man that tends to forget to eat but I digress)
So Rosie gets a text and a voicemail from the two of them (cause Sherlock prefers to text and tell me John is not the sort to leave voicemails, like he would have put it on the voicemail machine if they had one he's so old man sometimes)
And it goes something like:
[Text from Papa]
Ragù Bolognese, Angelo's, 7pm. Hugs. -SH
[Voicemail from Dad]
"Hi honey, it's Dad.
Sorry we won't be able to make it to dinner with you, your father's got a case and you know how he gets...
Anyway, Mrs Hudson is going out tonight remember, so your Papa is booking the usual table at Angelo's for you... You still like the Spaghetti Bolognese right?
Don't worry about us, we'll eat before we get home. And the reservation is at 7, so don't be late. This will probably take a while so don't wait up either and go straight to bed young lady, you hear me?
Anyway I've got to go, loveyoubye."
Anyway I think it would be very cute, like they love and care about her, even if they're old men who laugh at crime scenes and whose ideal date is trying to catch a murderer together, and they show it by taking a moment to make sure she's fed with her favorite food even when they're busy solving crime, so yeah.
I'm making my house a Murder Mystery Christmas. My newest acquisition is a Department 56 Literary Classics model of Sherlock Holmes' house, with Sherlock and Watson!
It's all set for the season with garland and wreath, a table full of tiny British Xmas foods, a Christmas tree, and three annoying carolers. Miss Marple, Father Brown, and Hercule Poirot watch over them like Guardian Angels.
Dr. Moriarty left them a plum pudding. I don't think they'll eat it.
Sherlock is one of the obly thing my family can agree on watching but my scientist dad scoffs and proceds to rant about the inaccuracy of it whenever sherlock uses a microscope
Requested by the beloved @fatherlesschild2 : CAN YOU WRITE SOMETHING ANGSTY ABOUT SHERLOCK AND ENOLA BEING SIBLINGS WITH READER, IDK I HAVE A QUESTIONABLE IMAGINATION BUT MAYBE THE READER GETTING INTO A FIGHT AND TRYING TO HIDE IT?
Warnings : uuuuuuuum angst? Grr scary brother
A/N: sorry for the delay lol. I had to copy and paste every single line from my other account so if something's out of place im soorry hahahah ❤️
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*creak*
God damn you st-
*creak*
Maybe if i went slower
"God da-"
"Young lady."
Your eyes flew up as your lips parted in a little gasp. Before you stood a large figure. Broad shoulders and a threatening stance, it towered over you, causing you to freeze in place.
Tiny splinters dug into your frozen fingers as you gripped the stair handle, tightening your hold the more Sherlock kept silent.
I mean, is he going to keep standing there until the sun sets and the birds start churping?
Your older brother stepped aside, motioning for you to step inside. And you complied, slowly and hesitantingly.
"Youngsters ought not to be wandering about late at night, particularily when expressly told ,on multiple counts, not to slip out." Sherlock patienly waited for you, taking after you the moment you passed by him.
You felt smaller with a much bigger shadow than you. But you kept your posture straight, anyways.
Your head was feeling too heavy for your liking and you just wanted to sleep.
"I'm sorry, Sherlock, is there any way we could do this tomorrow morning? Now's not the time for a lecture." The words came in a gruff tone. And as if you weren't already in enough trouble with the man, you just headed for the room you and sister Enola shared.
"Sure...Tomorrow." Sherlock's voice sounded." Good night, little one."
"And don't think i didn't see those marks on your neck"
Fuck.
"We'll discuss it tomorrow."
--
It's tomorrow.
A pain is etching from your temple down to the hollow part that sits under your cheek.
Flashes of your....eventful evening storm in from your subconscious and a long sigh escapes your lips.
" Finally awake."
AH. You shriek, your body jerking to the uncomfortably close voice over you. Rolling around halfway, you jump backwards, shrieking at the two people standing over you.
What the hell?
Sherlock and Enola were standing at your bed, both leaning down to examine you like you're a cadaver they were just about to start inspecting.
But you weren't. So why the fu-"
"How did you get that, y/n?" The investigator's eyes dart from your own eyes to your cheek, and you unconsciously cover the said thing with your hand.
Uh....you were't sure whether to lie or not. Whether to tell the whole truth or just half of it.
"Uhhh..." A long sigh escaped your lips without your accordance as you hadn't already decided on which story to tell yet. "Uh..." You stuttered again, flustered.
You shrink in your bed, melting into the sheets as you leaned away from the figure that lowered it's upper body over yours.
"Little one, your answer better be the right one."
Sherlock's eyes calculatedly pursuited yours until they locked.
Dark and threatening, they glared into your soul. Shit. How can someone regret their decision the second they made it?
"I....I fell down the bar stairs."
Fuck. How can someone regret their decision the second they made it?
Sherlock straightens his back. "Really?"
"Y...yeah. you c-c-an ask the men th-there if you want." You got out of bed, the opposite side of where your siblings were standing.
"I was walking....I might've had a drink or two." Maybe admitting to another forbidden punishable act will help you elude the real thing? "And as i was walking down, my ankle twisted and i found myself flying down the stairs."
You brushed past both of them, heading for the door. Nice lie! If they were to go ask the men there, nobody would be able to say a single word, because all of them would have been too drunk to even know their own names.
You'd highfive yourself but-
"Alright then, show me the other bruises."
You were glad your back was facing them, as your eyes widened in surprise. Fuck! You didn't think of that. "The ones on your hands and knees, probably, as well as your hip." Triumph laced Sherlock's voice. You internally damned him to an afterlife in hell.
"What...other bruises?"
"Well of course i can't do that!" You spin around, disdain etched across your face. You scoff.
"I can't undress myself in front of y-"
Haha! Enola. You almost forgot about h-
"He'll leave the room."
You snort a provocative chuckle "You really believe i think of you any differently, Enola?"
"I'm sure he trusts my decision making by now." Your sister lifted a triumphant brow.
Enola's eyebrows relax as annoyance etches across her face. She sighs and happiness internally floods your body. Looks like you were close to win the battle. With her.
"How's this?" Anger embodies Sherlock.
Definitely only with her.
"Lie and i will make sure you...never do that again."
Sherlock started walking towards you.
"But then again, i would like for you to spare us the anticipation, i already know you're lying. Because your-"
"Because my toes seem strange and i breathed in instead of out?"
"Because your friend came running here and said you were getting yourself in really bad trouble. And that it was only a matter of time before somebody got badly hurt."
Oh..of course she did...
"Listen, y/n, we understand that you're afraid of our reactions." Enola started, crossing her arms over her chest. "But you can't hide those things from us, we're your siblings."
Adorable-not good enough, though. Not to insult Enola's attemps and efforts, but you'd never do that just because you're siblin-"That's Enola."
"On my part, if i ever find out you're lying to me about something like this, i will make your life a living hell, little girl. And trust my words, i will make sure of it."
Your head spun towards Sherlock, a bit surprised and...scared as darkness suddenly swamped his voice.
You would've rolled your eyes at him but you were already in enough trouble. You wouldn't want to bury yourself in it, would you?
"I'm sorry." The lie slipped out of your lips like butter. You're not sorry. You don't care. In fact, you're not done with those stupid bastards. And you're not one to let go easily.
Thankfully, they weren't going to know since your face was already bruised. Or are they?
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I HAVE A QUESTIONABLE IMAGINATION TOO I WILL DO BETTER NEXT TIME OKI KISSIES NOW BYE BYE. ❤️❤️❤️🥀🥀🥀