#it’s really Sherlock Holmes and John Watson or NOTHING

[dead-chela]

Is anyone else insane about the new sh&co episode or just me?

[immortal-in-their-way]

When I started Sherlock & Co, I thought John and Sherlock shared one braincell between them. I was wrong. Mariana has the braincell.

[sistersavelorn]

They're like an old married couple

[sakanayasan414]

Interesting facts/possible mistranslation in Japanese translation of Sherlock Holmes

I thought people might be thinking I started my Sherlock Holmes journey by bbc or s&co and while there’s nothing wrong with that, I wanted to clarify that I’ve been Sherlokian since my mom bought me the adventure of Sherlock Holmes in 1st grade and I love the canon the most. Though I don’t really read it in Japanese anymore, I wanted to show my love for the translators and just everyone who made it possible for me to enjoy SH without having to learn English as a child.

Names Changes - The name Sherlock Holmes and John Watson once got translated/adapted to 小室泰六 (Komuro Tairoku) and 和田進一 (Wada Shinichi) because people in Japan at that time weren’t familiar with European names. I find this really fun and actually impressive because the names do fit their criteria; Komuro has that royal feel Holmes has and Shinichi is just one of the most common name in Japan like John.

First person pronouns - In Japanese there are many first person pronouns (I, my, me) to the point linguists don’t even know how many there are but main one being 俺 (ore) and 僕 (boku) for men and 私 (watashi) for women and men in formal occasions. So, deciding which first person pronouns characters use is one of the first yet important part of translation. Holmes in most translations use boku which is typical but has that upper class atmosphere when used by an adult which I think fits his personality and background. But one of the translations I read used watashi when he’s talking about his deduction and I feel like it shows how serious he takes his cases as it is almost solely used by men in professional settings. And also it sort of distances the speaker from the rest, meaning he is in his own world when deducing but he’s willing to interact with others when not in case.

Surname? First name? - in most translations, Holmes and Watson call each other by their surnames like in ACD writing but in one of the translations I’ve read put 君 (kun) after their surnames. It is used to show politeness but also affection in old times. I personally love this addition because calling each other by their surnames in Japanese don’t feel the same as it does in English. It feels too distant, not in Victorian men in way but just plain strangers feel. But then First names are too intimate so putting kun just feels right.

The speckled band - ACD played with a word band in this story but in Japanese it is straight up impossible to do so because we don’t have a word like that so what do they do? As shown below, they put extra words on top of words. (Characters on top (バンド) literally reads bando meaning band and characters below (紐 and 群) mean a string and a group so they both mean band) It is commonly done in literature to either suggest double meaning or just an indication of how to read certain Chinese characters because the characters on top are phonogram unlike Chinese characters. Having three alphabets in one language enables us to have that double meaning in other languages.

Possible misinterpretation of the situation - In “A Case of Identity”, Holmes expresses a deep angst towards Windibank by saying “But between ourselves, Windibank, it was as cruel and selfish and heartless a trick in a petty way as ever came before me.” Up until this point, Holmes called him Mr Windibank but he drops the Mr. However, for some reason some translations keep the Japanese equivalent of Mr (さん) , but then he takes out his whip after this conversation. I just don’t think it was a civil conversation that Japanese translators wanted to write as. I think Japanese translators just wanted to write Holmes as an always-calm-man but he is a passionate man when he needs to be.

Possible Mistranslation - From “A Scandal in Bohemia”, Watson talks about what the woman is to Holmes by writing “In his eyes she eclipses and predominates the whole of her sex.” In rather recently published translation, it gets translated to something like “From Holmes’ perspective, she surpasses all other women and makes their presence fade into the background.” Which i don’t think accurately expresses his view on her and women in general. But this might differ from other people’s opinions.

As time passes and many variations get published, translation gets more natural but sometimes they lose the atmosphere of the canon. So I love going back to reading all the versions I can read.

Hope you enjoyed this post! I have A LOT like this in my draft because I’m a language nerd in STEM that can’t find anyone to talk about this with. Also please let me know if you know any fun facts from your language’s translation:)

[tiger-moran]

By which I mean firstly people just seem to ignore or forget about the previous things every time there's something new that suggests one or both of them is queer. Yes sure I know there's not that much (well I don't think there is, but since I don't care about the pairing much I may have missed some other things) and some of the things are probably very bad but there were still some published Sherlock Holmes books with canonical queerness even years back, I can absolutely guarantee that there were still at least some published well before the Conan Doyle Estate lost their last tenuous claim to the stories (that famous one that I can't remember the title of now was from years back); there was that short film a few years ago (I don't know the name of that either, I've never seen it). Also there is Fawx & Stallion but OK that was very recent but it's not like there's been absolutely nothing ever before (although people have done this same thing in regard to that too, ignored/erased anything that existed before that that had queerness in relation to Holmes and Watson in).

People keep going on and on about 'it's taken X number of years to get to this' and they just erase everything else every time there's some kind of canonical queerness in something. (OK I had to look it up and it's My Dearest Holmes, that book. That was first published in the late 1980s for fuck's sake).

Also people still only ever act like one or both being gay is all that matters when it comes to queerness. Too many people still erase asexuality/aromanticism and still clearly do not consider those as 'valid queerness' no matter what they might claim elsewhere. Everything is taken as 'proof' of the characters being gay even when it very often could just as easily mean asexual and/or aromantic (also there's still plenty of bi erasure going on often as well).

And also people still act like the only 'valid' way to portray queerness is by getting two same gender characters to kiss, as if that's the only possible form of intimacy people who love each other can ever engage in and also as if that's the only 'valid' way to show that an individual is queer, by putting them in one specific relationship and making them do these very specific actions when that's... not how actual queerness works at all. And it does feel like... so, if Holmes and Watson kissing ever becomes more normalised in adaptations are they then going to decide that's too passé or not valid enough either and now the characters have to explicitly fuck for it to be 'valid'? Because they also just seem to be moving the goalposts further and further away all the time, so that things before they counted as 'valid' no longer matter or don't get acknowledged any more or making it sound as if those were all rubbish. Also it feels extremely dismissive often of anything that's not considered 'mainstream' enough, which seems very insulting to the creators of those other things.

Also I get this feeling sometimes that too many people are just kind of passively expecting this queer content to be directly handed to them and they haven't actually ever looked for anything themselves, if they're complaining that there's been nothing else ever that's made one/both of them queer. I seem to know more about some of these queer texts than some of these 'johnlockers' do and I don't even care about Holmes/Watson.

Why do I always get the feeling no portrayal of Holmes or Holmes and Watson as queer is every really going to be good enough or 'valid enough' for some people no matter how he/they are portrayed.

[galaxy-with-googly-eyes]

Can we talk about Elementary for a moment? Because this show is so fucking amazing I can’t. The premise is questionable, to say the least. „We’re gonna make a Sherlock Holmes adaption. But what if John is a woman called Joan and what if she is American? Oh and the whole thing is set in New York.“

Best start for a horrible American washed gender swap romance adaption but nothing could be further from the truth. Usually when the gender of a character is changed from canon it is to push some strange heteronormative romance sub plot but NO not Elementary.

The PLATONIC relationship between Joan and Sherlock is so amazingly done. It is the best portrayal of a QPR (queerplatonic relationship) I have ever seen in media. And even if we don’t take qprs into account we see a rich, deep, trusting friendship full of so much love. Elementary had the guts to use the word love in a platonic way, something other Sherlock Holmes adaptions (I’m looking at you BBC) never dared to do. And this in a show where Holmes and Watson are opposite genders, so the association with romance is done even quicker. Meanwhile, we watch Watson struggle with traditional dating and amatonormativity until she finally finds happiness in her platonic partnership with Sherlock and later as a single mum.

Elementary is also the only adaption I’ve seen that really explores Holmes's addiction. Usually, even in ACD canon, his drug addiction is treated as some personality quirk. An annoying habit but nothing more. But that is not how addiction works. Especially not with hard drugs like morphine and cocaine if we look at Canon or heroin in case of BBC and Elementary. Elementary puts great focus on Sherlock's long, presumably lifelong struggle with addiction and the great strength and effort it takes for him to stay clean. It emphasizes his need for a stable support system and doesn’t downplay addiction like a lot of Sherlock Holmes adaptions do. This is amazing.

Another great thing is the casualness of how queer people are incorporated into the story. They are just there. Their queerness isn’t the focus of their story, it is just part of who they are. Mrs. Hutson is trans but the focus is on the many influential men she has had affairs with. Victims are queer. Suspects are queer. Police are queer. Queer people just exist in this show without making it a big deal.

Even tho it isn't a perfect ACD Holmes adaption especially if we look at Sherlock's character I love this show so much.

[all-and-sundries]

Continuing my re-read of A Study in Scarlet and chapter II provides such little gems as:

Watson's new roommate being so WEIRD but Watson being kind of okay with it because he's so BORED and this gives him something interesting to do

Holmes playing really obnoxiously on his violin but then finishing with some of Watson's favorite songs so Watson can't get mad at him

Watson trying to work out what on EARTH Holmes does for a living that somehow involves dirt stains from different parts of London, random people in the sitting room, the violin, sword fighting, plants (but only the poisonous ones not the ones normal people like), and knowing everything about crime and chemistry yet nothing about celebrities. or the Solar System??

Watson at breakfast calling a magazine article on deduction "ineffable twaddle", and saying some armchair expert probably wrote it and there's no way he's actually any good

And then Holmes is like 'Well I wrote that and I AM that good'

And Watson being dumbfounded because what just happened and no way and also why and how is his roommate Like This

Watson eventually getting fed up with Holmes acting like he's so good at this 'deduction' thing and trying to politely change the subject by remarking on some random dude walking outside

And Holmes obnoxiously going 'Oh you mean the retired sergeant of the Marines?' and Watson being like 'Ugh he KNOWS I can't prove him wrong about that. Jerk.'

then the man actually knocks on their door and Watson is like 'Ha! That'll 'teach Holmes to try and show off. I'll ask this guy what his job really is." And the guy says he's a commissionaire

and Watson is in the middle of smirking at Holmes

when the guy finishes saying he used to be a sergeant of the Marines

Watson still has no idea what he signed up for when he got himself this new roommate but he's starting to figure out he's in for a wild ride

Stamford DID try to warn you buddy

Early days of John "Hopeless Busybody and Bored" Watson and Sherlock "Mysterious Drama Queen and Weird as Heck" Holmes as roommates my beloved. They have so many good days ahead of them and they don't even know it yet.

[queerholmcs]

bbc sherlock episodes ranked based on their mycroft holmes scenes 🌂

14. unaired pilot. zero mycroft holmes. thank god they transitioned to the 90-minute format for the real thing. 0/10.

13. the blind banker. no mycroft holmes screen time. sad! (the text conversation with M at the very end, however...) 1/10.

12. the hound of baskerville. his baby brother breaks into an army base using his id card and his response is to roll his eyes, send a handful of questioning texts, and then give him 24 hours unrestricted access anyway. it's sweet! but the jim-mycroft bit at the end should have been fleshed out a bit more. who cares about about a glowing rabbit when jim moriarty is scratching sherlock's name into the walls of a cell that mycroft put him in. come on! 4/10.

11. the abominable bride. this one would be higher but the fatsuit thing is weird. but at least we get "did you understand it? the murderous jealousy." and all of his "i care so much but i'm really not very good at showing it" on the plane and don't even get me STARTED on the state of his tie! 5/10.

10. the empty hearse. he puts on his silly little outfit and learns serbian to go bring his little brother back home! and then pretends to be surprised that sherlock is interested in the current state of john watson and literally nothing else? okay. and then they play chess i mean operation and he can't handle a broken heart (how very telling!) and then they play deductions because secretly he is pleased to see you, underneath all that. 5/10. WAIT no sorry i almost forgot about the les mis phone call at the end. 6/10.

9. the sign of three. yes i know he's technically barely in this one but the phone call at the start of the reception is fun and the treadmill/sex/filing joke is silly and his role in sherlock's little mind palace scenes is exquisite! like yayyyyy there he is, guiding people to the right answer, one leading question at a time! 7/10.

8. his last vow. christmas dinner is the highlight of the episode tbh. i mean i'm kidding but only sort of. we get to see him having domestic little moments with his parents and then he's standing outside smoking with his brother asking him to refuse a suicide mission in eastern europe and "here be dragons"... it's literally sooooo..... and he gets thrown out of baker street by force teehee! and that's before we even address his appearance in sherlock's mind palace as he's attempting not to die. "what was directly behind you as you were being murdered?" and "don't go into shock, obviously." and that little bit more insight into sherlock's relationship with him. and he gets an actual on-screen interaction with greg lestrade, so that's fun! 9/10.

7. the great game. this is where the show really kicks off when you're watching from the beginning imo. soooo many fun little moments with him... turning up at baker street after that explosion to try and get sherlock to look at a case and so we get to see them interact as brothers but that's nothing compared to what we get to see between mycroft and john... "what's he like to live with? hellish, i imagine" and "sherlock's business is booming since you and he became... pals" and then john gets all dressed up to go and see mycroft about the case because sherlock puts his best man onto it and. it's all just very fun for me. 10/10.

6. the lying detective. could use more mycroft tbh but what we get is absolute top-tier stuff... the little scene where they're all tracking sherlock's phone and he comes in to see for himself and makes a comment about how he needed the excuse to stop talking to the prime minister, and then he calls john up in the middle of the night about it because everything's about sherlock and there's his little "the fact that i'm his brother changes absolutely nothing. it didn't the last time and i can assure you it doesn't with—" and i think it's super fun! and then the spooks scene in baker street where the skull is replaced with a black box and he detests conversation in the past tense and mrs hudson hisses at him to "get out of my house, you reptile"... once again, top-tier stuff! 10/10!

5. a scandal in belgravia. we get the really fun sibling rivalry stuff at buckingham palace and on top of that we get that brotherly warning of "all lives end, all hearts are broken. caring is not an advantage" and then jim sends him a text and we get a gorgeous little diva down moment and then there's still the flight-that-never-takes-off "a damsel in distress. in the end... are you really so obvious? because this was textbook. the promise of love. the pain of loss. the joy of redemption. then give him a puzzle and watch him dance" speech??? AND he makes john cancel his christmas plans (and get dumped) because he's worried about sherlock??? 11/10. i'm going to throw up.

4. the six thatchers. where do i even begin... the episode opens with the hlv flashback to "my brother is a murderer" and then two minutes later mycroft is in a secret office handing out secret files saying "a d-notice has been put on the entire incident. no-one [but us] will ever know the whole truth." and then there's the agra wikipedia quote my beloved and that entire scene is just. MWAH! opens with a mirrored shot and he's got his feet kicked up on his desk and he's twirling a pen in his hand and "i love an acronym. all the best secret societies have one" with that stupid smirk on his face. and then he just sort of stands there and watches while mary dies at the end! so it's fun. 10/10. i might have to write a book about it.

3. a study in pink. we bring the plot to a screeching halt halfway through the episode (thank you so much hbomb for that insightful analysis) to introduce sherlock's older brother who's only even in like two stories from the canon and who is here portrayed by none other than the programme's co-creator himself so that he can stand in front of you and tell you that john watson is a little liar and that sherlock holmes and dr watson are freak4freak. 10/10 no notes.

2. the reichenbach fall. truly the episode of all time. no it's still not enough to top tfp but come on. my man gives jim moriarty sherlock's life story and has to confess all of this to none other than john watson himself and then has the audacity to say "tell him i'm sorry. would you?" and after the fall itself they show him reading a tabloid paper in the diogenes club. because god forbid he put himself in a place where silence is not tradition, where he might be asked to use his words to discuss that which has just transpired. 10/10, no notes. (i mean. hm. actually i have rather a lot of notes on this. but we don't have time to get into that here.)

and coming at number 1: the final problem. he's got an old-school cinema room in his house and an umbrella-sword-gun and "who was it said, truth is rarely pure and never simple?" and "say thank you to dr watson. he talked me out of lady bracknell. this could have been very different." and "memories can resurface. wounds can reopen. the roads we walk have demons beneath, and yours have been waiting for a very long time" and "heaven may be a fantasy for the credulous and the afraid, but i can give you a map reference for hell." and "colloquially it is known as the patience grenade" (and he's authorised the purchase of quite a number of those but he'll still retch at the sight of blood) and i think i need to go and lie down now so everyone say thank you mark! 13/10. absolutely delicious. mwah!

[meetinginsamarra]

Fanfics I really liked in March 2025

So. Since I keep a list of what I´ve read anyway (there´s always a list), I will rec all the fics I´ve wholly enjoyed on a monthly basis. Old and new, canon or AU, big or small authors, long or short but nearly always Johnlock (-ish).

-----

Responsible Adults by J_Baillier @jbaillier

After the events at Musgrave Hall, those affected are trying, and struggling, to move on with their lives. And life is hardly going to stop throwing new challenges at them.

How they are finally, slowly and sometimes painfully going to overcome the Eurus disaster.

Drift Compatible by J_Baillier @jbaillier

A washed out war hero struggling with his past. A prodigy who wants nothing to do with his family legacy. Both are looking for something—and someone—worth fighting for in a world where human civilisation is constantly under threat.

With Part 2 "Drift United" well under way, it was time to re-read the epic Pacific Rim AU.

Drift War Games by 7PercentSolution @7-percent

Based in the Pacific Rim Johnlock AU devised by J_Baillier, this story explores what happens next, especially the pressures Rangers Sherlock Holmes and John Watson will face in their drifting relationship that lies at the heart of their control of the Jaeger, Ravager.

What it says on the tin.

34 Minutes by bendingsignpost

An experiment in eye contact.

A true fandom classic. After 30 minutes of talking and 4 minutes of eye contact something unexpected happens.

A Flawed Design by thewriterofperfectdisasters

After two months in rehab, Sherlock comes back to school to find he has a roommate. Sherlock has never had a roommate, nor has he wished for one. This will either go badly or... Well. Badly. At least for someone.

Teenlock boarding school AU, enemies to lovers, Molly is very nice and Jim is a creep.

The night visitor by Snoozydog

John Watson, former army surgeon, employed by the secretive and indefinable government official Mycroft Holmes, accidentally saves the life of his employer's younger brother and ends up being hired as his private physician. John is immediately fascinated by his new patient but not only is Sherlock engaged to be married to someone else, but he is also a man surrounded by many dark secrets. Under the looming threat of Mycroft’s watchful eyes, as well as Sherlock’s imminent wedding there is also something else that lurks in the shadows, something that threats the budding relationship that has started to develop between the doctor and his enigmatic patient.

What it says on the tin.

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom.

Poignant Invocation

It wasn’t until the little girl they raised together was six years old, the two men realised they had experienced something quite similar, numerous times, in their childhoods. The girl, Rosamund Mary Watson-Holmes, only her uncle Myc addressed her that way, everyone else, even her teachers, called her Rosie. Her fathers also called her Bee, sweetheart, darling, precious girl, and sometimes, Watson. It was she, who asked the question, that lead to this revelation from Sherlock and John’s past.

“What were your grandmothers like?” Rosie asked one Sunday after they’d come back from visiting Sherlock’s parents. They were the only grandparents she had.

“Eccentric,” her papa rumbled.

“Thought she was clairvoyant,” her dad said, earning him a raised eyebrow from his husband.

“Really?” the detective asked. “You’ve never said.”

“I guess I haven’t. Never seemed to be an appropriate occasion for it,” John shrugged. “How eccentric was yours, then? The normal Holmes quirkiness, or something spectacular?

“Same as yours, actually,” Sherlock replied slowly.

“No way!” John exclaimed.

“Way,” the other man assured him.

“What is clair – that thing?” Rosie asked a bit affronted, feeling left out of the ongoing conversation.

“Clairvoyant,” Sherlock said patiently, making his daughter repeat it until she pronounced it perfectly.

***

Neither John, nor Rosie, was the least bit surprised when they came home the next Friday afternoon, finding their home redecorated.

“At least it smells nice,” was John’s response.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, before kissing his husband and kneeling in front of Rosie to give her a welcome home hug.

Five scented candles were placed on the mantlepiece, purple in colour, the scent something citrusy with a touch of lavender. The curtains were drawn, and all the lamps were covered in black fabric adorned with silver stars and golden moons. 

John half expected a crystal ball or a Ouija board on their coffee table, but instead, a large book rested there; a book John had never seen before. 

Rosie stood, mouth agape, then moved around the room, carefully.

“What’s all this, love?” John inquired silently.

“A tribute to our grandmothers, John. To Annabelle and…”

He waited for John to fill in the blank.

“Hester. Her name was Hester,” John murmured.

Sherlock repeated the name, then gestured for them to take a seat. 

Large oriental-like cushions were placed around the table, all in different colours, reminiscent of gemstones. Ruby-read, emerald-green, sapphire-blue, topaz-pink, tourmaline-yellow.

With his usual agility, Sherlock seated himself closest to the book, while John and Rosie sat down on either side of him.

“This book is one I remember from my childhood. Annabelle, my grandmother, used to read it to Mycroft, and later to me. The legends are from Japan, where she grew up,” Sherlock began.

John cried out, horrified that he knew nothing about this.

“She was Japanese?” he asked, searching his husbands face for Asian features.

“No, John,” Sherlock smiled. “Her father worked there. As a chemist. They moved to England when she was twelve.”

John looked at the book, realising it was written in Japanese.

“Do you? – “

“Yes, me and Mycroft both. She taught us.”

“Wow!” Rosie exclaimed. “That’s amazing, papa.”

“Quite extraordinary,” John said and reached out a hand to squeeze Sherlock’s arm.

“Can you teach me too? Please,” Rosie asked.

“Of course, Bee,” Sherlock said.

The little girl rose quickly and threw her arms around her papa’s neck and murmured her thanks into his cheek. 

John looked fondly at them, his eyes a bit blurry.

Once Rosie was seated on her green cushion again, Sherlock started to read, translating effortlessly, as if he read an English book.

“This is a bit sad, but the moral can easily be transferred to our everyday lives. It is called The Legend of the Grateful Crane.”

Rosie curled up in John’s lap as Sherlock got the end of the story, but she didn’t cry. She was as resilient as one would expect a daughter of the infamous Baker Street boys to be.

“One more, please,” she begged once Sherlock had finished reading.

“After dinner,” John said sternly, and she knew it was futile to protest.

She sighed dramatically, not unlike how her papa used to indicate his disapproval. 

***

“This was a brilliant idea, love,” John said after they’d put Rosie to bed.

“You think so?” Sherlock asked.

“Of course, Sherlock. Couldn’t you tell how enchanted she was? Me too, for that matter. God, we’re so lucky to have you.”

Sherlock sighed contentedly and made himself comfortable on the sofa, his head placed in his husband’s lap. As John carded his fingers through his curls, Sherlock purred like a big cat. When they made love some hours later, the sounds escaping Sherlock’s throat reminded John of those made by dragons of the legends.

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

@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @helloliriels

@meetinginsamarra @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitch-adler @topsyturvy-turtely @jolieblack

@221beloved @ninasnakie @shy-bi-letsfuckingdie @7-percent @lhrinchelsea

@peanitbear @bs2sjh @brandiwein1982 @meandhisjohn @a-victorian-girl

@missdeliadilisblog @salmonsown @oetkb12 @jawnscoffee @gay-ass-bitch

@acumberlockedgirl @willamholmeswatson @whatnext2020 @mydogwatson @redmondcollege

@thegildedbee @ilovegayangels @elizabethhood @xmengal03 @riversong912

@givemesherbet-blog-blog @couldbecannibal @2old2b-fangirl @dw91165 @jonkwatson

@binx72 @macgyvershe @raina-at @dragoonthegreatest @kholkate

@fookincarrotsandpotatoes28 @talkativeanxiousturtle @aloeverawrites @ch0s0lvr

(Tell me if you want to be tagged or removed from the list)

[dragonnan]

Saturday Sherlock Fic Recs

Gathered from my bookmarks :)

It's Not The Violin by copperbadge - M Somewhere between Alejandro and the fistfight, John Watson became someone Sherlock Holmes would kill for.

Sound of Silence by SailorChibi - G Sherlock returns from the dead but nothing is like it was. He doesn't speak and John doesn't understand, not until an encounter with the Yard explains the depths of Sherlock's trauma.

Lost for Words by awanderingbard - M Sherlock is assaulted by an unknown assailant while John is away at a medical conference, leaving him with a severe brain injury. While his intellect and personality are intact, he's lost the use of his right-side limbs and his ability to speak freely. John suddenly finds himself as the main source of support, and possibly a caregiver, to a flatmate who is struggling to do the things he loves most. And Sherlock Holmes has never been the best of patients.

Following On by in_in_in_in_in_in - G ‘Well,’ says Sherlock, throwing the empty bottle down into the foot well. ‘I did think I was going to die.’

‘You thought you were going to die?’ Donovan chokes out. ‘I knew you were a freak, but are you really so self-centred? I thought he was supposed to be your friend, and instead of worrying about him you’re worrying about yourself? Did you push him in front of you or something?’

When something happens to John, Sherlock doesn't understand why everyone's so surprised that he was worried for his own life.

Flinch by Salr323 - G "We hated him."

Oubliette by CherryBlossomTide - T After a traumatic incident, Sherlock becomes trapped in the darkest part of his Mind Palace. The only thing that can still reach him is the sound of John's voice.

A Cure for the Final Problem by Saasan - T (Warning for Character Death) As far as Sherlock knows, he's back in rehab, but something is amiss. Why won't John come visit him?

The Holiday by Scriblit - M (Warning for offscreen noncon) A month following an horrific, sadistic attack during a case, Sherlock is still physically incapacitated and emotionally damaged. A holiday is suggested, but even stuck out in the middle of nowhere, he and John happen upon a case that could make Sherlock begin to feel like his old self again - or could kill him.

Paying Back by Dayja - M Some men do not appreciate Sherlock's handling of their cases. They decide to pay him back.

Harmless Things by J_Baillier - M This is definitely not how John had imagined their Saturday night.

It takes John Watson to save your life. by Sparkypip - T A series of One shots where John saves Sherlock's life in so many ways. Will be updated sporadically as and when I get any time to write. As always I like my characters hurt, so plenty of angst, H/C, whump and bromance.

Seek Out The Unworthy by squire - T Set after the events of His Last Vow - but this time, the plane carrying Sherlock off to Eastern Europe never turned around, and John's life is very different as a result.

Hopeless Wanderer by Cyane (orphan_account) - Not Rated Mycroft wakes up in a cold, dark, cliche. Normally this would be fine, except this time, his captors were smart/stupid enough to drag Sherlock into this.

And they're going to be there for a while, until his agents and Scotland Yard figures out where they are.

This would be a hell of a lot easier if Mycroft wasn't blindfolded, tied up, and forced to listen to Sherlock's screams.

Redemption by sgam76 - G The reappearance of James Moriarty means an initial reprieve for Sherlock Holmes. But the consequences of that reappearance put not just the Holmes boys, but most of the world, at risk. An emerging threat in Eastern Europe brings visions of the plagues of the Middle Ages--but that's the least dangerous part.

English as a Foreign Language by standbygo - G Sherlock is not quite right after Mycroft pulls him out of Serbia.

When Your Belly's in the Trench by Morgan_Stuart - T The next time that door opens, John Watson will kill the person on the other side.

The Least of All Possible Mistakes by rageprufrock - M If ever a people deserved tasering, it’s Holmeses.

Define Vulnerability by TheGracefulBlueCat - T Shortly after Sherlock's return John realises something is very wrong with his friend. He, Greg and Mycroft try to help Sherlock as he falls deeper and deeper into the abyss called PTSD. But Sherlock is not ready to allow anyone in, but then the events of the current case cause him to hit bottom hard.

Into the Gloaming by Vulpesmellifera - M She lays the sage bundle down in one of his seashells, avoiding the label. How he loved cataloging natural items. That sharp mind of his so naturally tended to the sciences, and she’d taken great joy in encouraging him all his life. All the first thirteen years of it. The last year has been entirely different.

His hand lies just outside the white comforter. When she touches it, the chill of his skin sends a shiver down her spine. His lips move, his voice as soft as dead, dry leaves.

“What’s that, love?” she says.

“In the trees,” he says, his eyes still closed. “Is it John there in the trees? I think he’s waiting for me.”

Viola turns her gaze out the window and to the closest tree, a resplendent cherry in the throes of autumn. In the branches there, for just a second, she thinks she sees it: a black bird, feathers gleaming in the sun.

Learning the Heart by Calais_Reno - T An android tries to understand love and grief.

The Ancillus's Tale by Chryse - E (Warnings for noncon and MPREG) Once Sherlock’s body had been his alone. He was free to treat it with great care or none at all; to live on cigarettes and coffee and cocaine and then sleep it all off for days on end. He was free to stay in and sleep alone or to go to clubs and choose someone to touch him, mark him with nails and teeth or to kiss him with sweetness and care, according to his whim. Every part of it had been his decision. No more. Now he was property of the Crown, tagged and marked like one of the King’s deer, to be bred like one of his horses.

[calaisreno]

Nobody

663 Words / Prompt: Hero

No one ever calls John Watson amazing. As far as he can recall, no one has ever said he was extraordinary. 

His father laughed when he said he wanted to be a doctor. His mother said nothing. 

His sister came out when she was thirteen. John was ten that year, and learned from her experience that it’s better not to stand out. While Harry was being dramatic, having angry confrontations with their parents, making everyone love and hate her, John flew under the radar. 

At school, he stayed in the upper third. He worked hard, took part-time jobs to help with the bills, got regular haircuts, and never even considered a tattoo. 

Harry was a full-blown alcoholic by the time John started uni. He also drank, but kept his family history in mind and focused on what he was there for. 

His father was a gambler who always had a new plan; his mother poured her energy into charity and church. Harry seemed determined to fuck up in every way imaginable, as if she had a sacred destiny to be the black sheep. Blood was not destiny. John was the responsible one.

His army buddies gave him the nickname Three Continents. As a child, he’d spent a few years in Australia (one of his father’s schemes to get rich), but that didn’t really count. He’d grown up in Britain, travelled to the continent one summer. His luck with European women was nothing to write home about. When he left for Afghanistan, he didn’t have much hope for that continent, either, since most of the women there were Muslim. The nickname was ironic, not iconic.

In the army, he was commissioned as a captain. He took his office seriously, gave orders with confidence, not out of a sense of ego or pride, but because he was responsible. When you’re responsible for lives, you don’t let people down.

In essence, he was a humble man. 

When he returned home, he was a surgeon who could no longer do surgery, thanks to a shoulder wound that left him with nerve damage. He was a doctor with PTSD who couldn’t make it through the night without waking up in a sweat, hyperventilating. He had a limp. Women looked at him with pity, not interest.

And he began to suspect that dates with women weren’t what he wanted. His buddies might still call him Three Continents Watson, but there wasn’t any reputation to uphold. He often protested, I’m not gay, but his eyes tended to follow men rather than women.

That’s why, when he met Sherlock Holmes and agreed to share a flat with him, he felt fortunate to escape his tiny bedsit and move in with this odd man, who had somehow decided that John must accompany him at any hour of the day or night, usually to look at dead bodies. A man of eccentric habits, John seemed to have become one of them.  

It didn’t hurt that his flatmate was good-looking. Sherlock Holmes had high cheekbones, dark curly hair, and a lanky grace that was enhanced by the tailored trousers and jackets he wore. He spoke in a silky baritone. To John, at least, it didn’t matter that he was arrogant or even insulting. He was extraordinary. 

So when Sally Donovan frowned at John Watson and said, “Who are you?” he didn’t hesitate to say, “I’m nobody.”

But that same night, he carried his gun out into the night, chasing after a man, a murderer. He saw Sherlock about to accept the challenge, and his hand did not shake when he sent a bullet through two panes of glass, into the man’s chest.

John will never call himself a hero. They might exist, but he’s not one. 

He’s just an ordinary man who lost his limp when he began following Sherlock Holmes. 

And in that moment his only thought was that Sherlock Holmes had saved his life, and John wasn’t going to let him die. 

[universeofdreams]

Common Sense Pt. 1

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

BBC Sherlock Holmes x Fem!Reader

Genre: Pure Nonsense, a little bit of Mystery

Warnings: gunshots, nothing else.

Wordcount: 1800-ish. Sorry, I forgot the number TT

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Summary: You didn’t really engulf in hanging out with your neighbours, especially because most thought one of them was going bonkers, until you got a demonstration of it in form of a very big hole. Curious, as you were, you didn’t bother listening to their conversations. And to their surprise, you weren’t just the „little neighbourhood girl“, you were also bloody intelligent.

A/N: Here I am, able to finally announce my comeback with nothing greater than a good ol‘ Sherlock fanfic. Thanks to Prime for the given opportunity to re-binge-watch the show because it’s only available for 8 more days, I had to make a move and rewatch it. I was addicted to Sherlock a few years before I actually started writing fanfictions. And I’m going to Paris for the christmas holidays so there will be plenty of time for me to write. Don’t be shy, send me your favourite character and I’ll write a oneshot about them!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Thank the heavens it was a normal morning ���til now. You walked down the creaking stairs into the kitchen of your two-floors-flat. It wasn’t particularly early but your alarm didn’t ring yet, which means it should be around 8am. 

You mentally thanked yourself for filling up the kettle yesterday evening as you turned it on and got one of the tea bags out of their little box.

A few birds were chirping outside and the sound of cars passing the house was a sign that the people of London started to wake. The sun beamed through your kitchen window that had little lace curtains on the sides and filled the kitchen with warm, cozy light.

The bottom of your favourite mug touched the countertop and the water in the kettle was bubbling uncontrollably. The sweet, slightly aromatic smell of the tea unfolded in the ground floor as soon as you poured the hot water into the cup and the dark brown colour took over the plain, transparent water.

The gunshots almost made you drop that favourite mug. It wasn’t like you weren’t used to disturbance caused by your - almost - lousy neighbours but things like this didn’t happen YET. And so you sighed, placed that mug back on the counter and walked up the stairs. 

Right in your bedroom was a big, gaping hole in the wall. 

‘Oh, come on, that’s not possible.’, you thought to yourself, brushed the hair out of your face and looked through that hole. The grey hair of your neighbour, Mr. Watson, came in sight.

He pointed right towards the hole and Mr. Holmes, his roommate, was standing a little further away from it. 

“Now I will have to go wake (Y/N) and apologise for your temper.”, the doctor sighed and shook his head, pinching his nose bridge. 

But before he could leave, you cleared your throat, cocking your head to the side and waving them through that hole.

“No need to.”, you said sarcastically. 

He whipped his head around and his eyebrows shot up, almost meeting his hairline. He once again glanced at Sherlock, signalling him to apologise. Sherlock, who was holding the gun and seemed to be cause for this situation, just shrugged and walked away. 

And now it wasn’t a normal morning anymore. Well, that day was a week ago and since then you ignored Sherlock for a good reason. The hole in the wall wasn’t fixed and yet the dark-haired consulting detective didn’t seem to make a move on fixing it. Of course, you told your landlady, Mrs. Hudson, about the inquiry but she didn’t have an effect on him either.

“What? How are you not able to crack that code? You said it’s simple!”, you overheard John exclaim as you came home one day. 

“It’s not my fault. I’m not able to think.”, Sherlock bit back.

The feeling in your gut told you he was looking through that hole in the wall and so you, as quietly as possible, sneaking up the stairs to listen to their conversation.

“You’re unbelievable! What was the code again?”, now asked John. 

You perked up, fiddling a small piece of paper out of the pocket of your coat and the small pen you brought back from your trip to Ikea yesterday.

“3C-5A-2E-7B. Locker.“, the detective read out loud.

You scribbled the combination of numbers and letters down on what you had in hand and quickly shuffled down the stairs, hoping they didn’t hear you. Usually you weren’t one to eavesdrop, but codes were something that genuinely interested you. And so you found yourself sitting in your bed almost every night, thinking about that code.

After a week and three days you asked a good friend if he was able to fix the hole in your bedroom wall and when he agreed, you were happy to finally sleep without hearing John and Sherlock talk. He fixed the wall and while doing that, Sherlock inspected him and probably deduced stuff.

‘One daughter, divorced. Very overworked, enthusiastic, has a dog, probably a German Shepherd. 31 years old, has a crush on you.’ 

The latter made the detective eye your friend up and down. He wasn’t ugly, instead a slightly handsome man. Short, blond hair and green eyes. Tall and knew how to work with his hands. And how the sight burned in his eyes.

Until it knocked on your door. It was your only day off this month and you planned on enjoying this with some self-care, ordering take-out and watching your favourite TV-shows. 

Fiddlesticks.

John Watson was standing on your doorstep, still his finger on the doorbell when you opened the door. A puzzled look was plastered on your face as you asked the man to step inside since it was raining cats and dogs today. He gladly accepted your offer, tore his shoes off of his feet and placed them on the black mat you had prepared for soaked shoes. You took the wet coat out of his hand and hung it close to the heater so it at least had a slight chance of drying a little.

While he walked into the living room and took a seat in one of your beloved dark green arm chairs. You once again filled water into the kettle and prepared two cups of Darjeeling tea. You gently set the fine porcelain cup onto the coffee table and smiled at him.

“No sugar was that, right?”, you asked, to which he nodded with a little confusion. 

It wasn’t like you were able to listen to each conversation John and Sherlock had in the past few days. Nah, that wasn’t the case. Your hearing was just extraordinary and you heard them talk through the wall… Sike.

You sat down in front of him in the other dark green arm chair. You had two of them. One without pillows and the other one had a pretty pillow with white ornamental flowers on it. It did fit to your interieur and also kind of to your personality, at least that was what John thought.

“I have a feeling I might know why you’re here.”, you told the man opposite of you. His brows shot up the same way when you peeked through that hole a few days ago.

“How come?”, he asked, sipping on the freshly brewed and still a little hot tea, finding it a little more aromatic than his own favourite brand. And he didn’t mind showing his admiration for a good cup of tea. 

You nodded, got up once again and pulled a piece of paper out of the pretty little bookshelf that was standing next to your TV. Sitting down on the chair again, you placed the paper on the coffee table, written side up. John took a moment to read what you wrote down until he looked back up at you.

3C-5A-2E-7B. Locker.

A chessboard was drawn below the code, some of the squares were marked with a cross.

3C = 3. row , C column

5A = 5. row, A column

2E = 2. row, E column

7B = 7. row, B column

M-I-N-D

“Mind?”, John asked, even more confused than before. 

How was that girl from their neighbourhood able to solve a code like this? What did that even mean? You just nodded. There was more than just the word.

John knew how he and Sherlock would solve that mystery. He immediately stood up, ran to the door, put on his clothes and called out for you to follow, something you usually don’t like but today you let it slip. Slipping into your coat and shoes you followed behind John, just to enter the building next door. 

Mrs. Hudson was standing in the hallway, cleaning it sloppily with a worn out broom. She was very happy to see you but Watson dragged you further up the stairs, leaving the sweet elderly landlady behind without a conversation. You promised yourself to talk to her later today. 

John knocked the door of Sherlock’s and his flat open and Sherlock, who was currently experimenting in the kitchen, didn’t bother turning around.

“Why did you bring this woman?”, he asked while inspecting something in the fridge.

“Because she decoded the message we got.”, explained John. Sherlock wasn’t interested in your presence before but suddenly he turned around and you were able to take in the man you were trying to avoid the past two weeks. He was wearing one of his suits and the same basic white button down as every day but it still looked sleek on him.

His dark locks were seemingly freshly washed and hung a little in his face while his piercing blue eyes scanned you, up and down. He wasn’t able to read you. Well, I mean he was able to but there were only a few things everyone would deduce. 

Things like ‘Came back from work’ or ‘Looks a little tired’ were usually a little too inefficient for him. Why wasn’t there more?

“How can the girl, that needs someone else to fix a wall, decode something?”, he asked with a snicker and made you scoff. 

“Firstly, it was your fault. You didn’t fix it. Secondly, I might be more than just ‘The girl that needs someone else’”, you answered and repeated his words, making eye contact with him.

He could see that you weren’t happy about his wording, especially about the wall incident. But he also wanted to know the answer to the code and so he, same as John does, raised his eyebrows. He wanted you to tell him what you found out.

And so you sat down and explained your theory of how each letter is on the chessboard and showed him the sketch you did. The only thing both Sherlock and John didn’t understand were the words MIND and locker in combination. Little did they know.

“Okay, now that we solved the code, what is that word going to tell me? Does the murderer want to tell me that he thinks I'm brilliant? I am, I know.”, Sherlock said and started walking up and down the living room.

“No, it’s the code to a locker.”, you revealed.

Holmes puzzled gaze was definitely something you’d savour for later, moments in which he’d tell you he’s the brilliant one. 

“One of millions of lockers in London.”, John sighed and you added: “A locker in the British Library.”

Sherlock once again nodded, took his coat and grabbed your hand, kissing it. 

“I love people with common sense.”, he said, chuckling. “See you in the library.”

And then he ran off, leaving you and John behind. Both of you called a cab to follow him but you weren’t in a rush, unlike your consulting detective.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Five Fics Friday: February 14/25

Happy Friday everyone! Check out this week's collection of fics on my radar, and make sure to read the JFC fic for Sunday's meeting! Enjoy!

JOHNLOCK FIC CLUB

If Equal Affection Cannot Be by blueink3 (E, 31,156 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Family, Retirement, Grown Up Rosie, Angst, Reunion, Loneliness, Sussex, Fluff, Sexy Times, Happy Ending) – Sherlock fled London a couple of years after John left him in hospital with nothing but an old walking stick and a half-hearted goodbye. Rosie grew up thinking that Sherlock died when he committed suicide in front of her father by jumping from Barts' roof. So it's somewhat awkward when they run into each other in a Sussex general store between the loaves of bread and the Mars bars...

RECENT MFLs

An Authorized Biography by scrub456 (G, 2,644 w., 1 Ch. || ASiP Divergence, Angelo's, Epic Friendship, Humour, BAMF Angelo, BAMF John, Pawn Shop, John's Cane) – An account of what really  happened that night at Angelo's. It's possible maybe the biographers got it wrong. Part 2 of Reader Appreciation Prompt Extravaganza  || Part 7 of Singular

Golden Ticket by DiscordantWords (M, 6,167+ w., 2/? Ch. || WIP || Wonka AU || Crack Treated Seriously, Angst with Happy Ending, Suicidal Thoughts, Temporary, Character Death, Candy, Falling in Love) – Years after an odd, gruesome, and highly publicised breakdown ruined his career, a disgraced candymaker has abruptly reopened his factory. His motives are shrouded in mystery, something that only serves to inflame the curious public. To celebrate his triumphant return, he launches a contest: five golden tickets hidden at random in chocolate bars distributed throughout London. The lucky recipients of those tickets are promised an experience they will never forget. And so, on one cold morning in January, five winners gather to claim their prize. John Watson is among them.

The Secret of Agra by Calais_Reno (T, 17,921+ w., 4/19 Ch. || WiP || Alternate Universe || Post-TRF, John on a Case, Missing Person, Liminal Spaces, Otherworld, Minor Character Death, Eventual Reunion) – A year after The Reichenbach Fall, John learns that Sherlock isn’t dead, but has now found himself in a spot of trouble. John goes after him. This is a "down the rabbit hole" story, a London Below, a wonderland, an impossible place where missing people find themselves. It's also a love story about our two heroes desperate to find one another, realising things about themselves and each other.

The Second Smartest Man in London by FairSinner (E, 73,699 w., 14 Ch. || ACD Canon || Angst, Romance, Smut, Mystery, First Kiss / Time, Drug Use, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Falling in Love, Gay Sex) – Dr John Watson returns from Afghanistan to Victorian London, wounded, traumatised and alone. When he meets Sherlock Holmes, his life begins to seem worth living again. But Holmes is a man who despises sentiment and Watson cannot seem to expunge it from his heart.

[sandcobangevent]

Good Grief

By @shinymoonforest and saturn11dae

—- ˚ ༘ ⋆ —-

Sherlock never understood emotions very well. How they worked, how others experienced them in comparison to him, how he was either “too much” or “too apathetic” … All of this and more was a bit of a mystery to him, despite spending years trying to study people’s reactions. 

Detective Holmes had solved some of the toughest cases in the UK, from online creeps to diamond thieves, and yet emotions felt more difficult than almost anything he had ever experienced.

And this new emotion was no exception.

He and his friend and colleague, Dr. John Watson, were spending time at The Volunteer, the latter’s favorite local pub. It was nothing out of the ordinary that evening; a few drinks, a few laughs, spending time with his flatmate. Yet despite this, a sinking feeling made itself more known in Sherlock’s chest. Except it wasn’t sinking, rather it was… floating? Bubbly? Empty? He wasn’t sure what to make of it as he rocked back and forth in his chair, making popping noises with his mouth. Something that the doctor seemed to catch onto after a minute or two.

“You alright Sherls?” he inquired, noticing the other’s common methods of self regulation at play. Sherlock, meanwhile, merely looked at John with his lips tightly pressed together. It almost mimicked the constrictive feelings in his chest, as much as he tried to fight them. 

“Sherlock?” John asked again, brow now furrowed with worry after not initially receiving an answer. “Sensory overload?”

An assumption, based on past experiences with public places, but a correct one at that, and Sherlock quickly seized the opportunity to leave their current situation with a brisk nod.

“Alright- Hey, that’s okay, we can head home if you’d like- Would you like that?”

Another nod, his hand now fidgeting with his own shirt, as if he could twist this pressure free.

“Okay, gotcha, I’ll just—uhh— Oi, ‘xcuse me mate! Can we get the bill?”

—- 𖦹 —-

“It’s really rather difficult to explain, Watson,” huffed Mr. Holmes, quickly taking off his shoes and beginning to pace around the flat. The poor doctor nearly had to sprint to keep up with his flatmate, who had gotten a head start in storming out of the pub when the noise supposedly got too overwhelming.

“What, even for you?” John scoffed, earning a look from the detective and a nervous smile for himself. “Right, bad time— bad joke— If you don’t want to explain it, you don’t have to, mate, but it might help a bit if I knew what was going on.”

“Well, what if I don’t want to?” he chided back, finally bringing his movements to a stop with a curled up seat on the couch. 

“Then you don’t have to,” the podcaster replied, through which Sherlock could hear the sigh in his voice and thought that perhaps his tone was a bit harsh. “I’ll get your sensory things.”

As John wandered further into the flat to grab a few things for his friend, Sherlock’s mind couldn't help but begin to spiral. Clearly, he decided, this wasn’t a sensory issue - at least, not fully. He gave a nod and signed ‘thank you’ upon being handed his ear defenders first and foremost, but even with them on he still felt overwhelmed by something. It spiked and simmered in his chest with each back and forth the doctor made, rising and falling like his breathing, his heartbeat. Even in his current state he can deduce this, that something about the man was causing a disturbance in his mind. It was horribly distracting to his deduction process - an attribute he had noticed in some of their previous cases - and he wasn’t going to figure out what on Earth was bothering him so much with those sparks dancing in his head. 

“I am going for a walk,” declared the detective, suddenly standing from his current position on the couch just as John was about to hand him a cup of tea. The beverage is held by the perplexed podcaster for a few moments, too stunned to speak even as his flatmate begins to walk to the door. With ear defenders, no shoes, and a blanket still draped around his shoulders, he adds, “I would not like to be disturbed,” before closing the door behind himself. He could hear the confused sigh behind the door of 221B, the supposed placing of his cup of tea before John wandered off to do something else. 

It only stirred around the pit in his chest even more.

So he wandered down the stairs to the closest place that he could decompress and process… everything, really. 

221A. The door was shut faster than it was opened, somehow, causing Ms. Ametxazurra to practically jump in her seat. “Sherlock, wha-??” “Do not worry, Mariana, I am simply in need of an area to self-regulate.” Right on cue, the detective begins to pace back and forth in the flat. “And you can’t do this in your own room? It has to be my flat?” “Yes, of course it does!” he groaned with frustration, throwing his hands in the air as he spoke before they began to move repetitively. Mariana’s curiosity grew at the sight of such an abrupt entrance followed by such a tone. She paused her current TV show and resigned to watching Sherlock instead, attempting to discern what could be bothering him. 

“...Would you… want to talk about it?” She inquires following a pause. “First Watson, now you, for goodness sake-” The man stopped himself, both physically and verbally, from going any further after recognizing the tone of his voice. A deep breath was taken, in for four counts, holding for seven, out for eight, just as he had practiced and performed so many times in the past. Many times still, most likely, in the future, given the complications his own mind could cause him. The accountant noticed this technique and noted its implications, worry lines forming within her expression. “Sorry.” “It’s okay,” Mariana acknowledged, turning her body towards Sherlock and her full attention with it. “Frustrated?” “Very,” he started, his pacing picking up again. “There is a certain individual whose very presence causes me to feel sick. Or… not exactly “sick,” rather… anxious. Confused. A whirlwind of different emotions combined into one that seems as though it should make sense, and yet it doesn’t. I feel as though there is a great storm in my chest, sirens blaring, red lights flashing, a swarm of chaos ready to explode right out of my body. Just the same, this person brings me peace, comfort, stability, and while I do not understand how these two polar opposites can co-exist I do understand that it’s fairly overwhelming that-” He stopped. “Why are you laughing?” Sure enough, the Spaniard had partially put a hand over her mouth to try (and fail) at hiding her smile, only for small bits of laughter to slither through her fingers. “Sorry, sorry, cariño, I’m not laughing at you- well- I’m not laughing at your feelings-” “Then what?” he inquired, albeit with a bit of childlike impatience. “Just- you being you, Sherlock. I promise you, you’re getting yourself all worked up over something that’s not nearly as bad as you think it is.” “You have the answer, then?” This had grabbed the detective’s attention, his eyes widening as he stepped closer to her. She, in turn, made a silent offer for him to sit next to her on the couch, to which he quickly accepted.

“Mhm.” “Well?” “Love.” And all of a sudden, everything stops. The heightened heart rate, the restlessness, even the stimming all completely freezes as soon as that word is uttered by her lips and processed in his ears. “It’s… complicated, for sure,” Mariana continued, “But also beautiful. And messy, and charming, and chaotic, peaceful, gut-wrenching, comforting… That’s love. It’ll make you question everything and feel completely right all at once. The right person makes you absolutely frustrated with how much you adore them, one way or another, even if they frustrate you to hell and back sometimes.” Sherlock chuckled at this last comment, as if finally releasing some of that built up pressure in his chest. Still nervous, but it’s something.

“I’m not surprised that it’s overwhelming you, from what I can tell-” He nodded in response to this, both confirming her observation and urging her to go on. “But the only way to push through this feeling is to confront it. Otherwise, you may as well explode from pushing it down so much.”

“How on Earth would I go about doing that,” the man retorted, “when I could hardly word this- this blasted feeling myself??” “Sherlock-” “No, I-” He stood up again, taking a few steps forward, a few back, circling her couch a few times as he spoke. “This- this love is metaphorically oozing out of the very core of my being, infecting everything I touch. Cases, tasks, thoughts-” “Sherlock.”

Another forced pause, as he did earlier, though this time upon hearing her firmer tone. “Please just… take a breath, we can work through this, okay?” “...Okay.” Sitting down once more, he closed his eyes and rehearsed the breathing technique taught to him what felt like ages ago. In for four… hold for seven… out for eight. “There you go,” she sighed, her voice gentle, quiet, giving him the necessary silence to take a few deep breaths. Then, just as he’s exhaling, as if able to read his mind…

“...It’s John, isn’t it?”

He opened his eyes as he exhaled, preparing mentally as his secret was fully revealed. 

“...Yes.”

Her eyes held a certain sincerity that Sherlock often admired in people. The ability to properly empathize, know generally what the right thing to say was as if it was second nature. A type of kindness he had attempted to tap into but generally saw brighter in other people rather than himself. 

People like Mariana. People like John.

“Whether or not you tell him how you feel - which you should, by the way - these feelings won’t change anything.” “But what if they do?” His counter was quick, alert, frightened, as if he had rolled this thought through the crevices of his grey matter countless times.

“You really think he would stop caring for you that quickly? After all this time?” Her remark, meanwhile, came softer, her tone leaning on that apparent second nature of hers. The words gave the detective pause as he pondered them, thinking on how sensitive John had become to his needs. How he came to care for his scattered self, even when they were at odds. 

“...He did attempt to calm me even as I stormed out of the flat… Even… when I was unable to give him a straight answer as to what was happening...”

How much he cared for Sherlock, no matter what.

“And he’d do more than that, Sherlock. He has done more than that, multiple times.” “...I… I love him,” he stammered, as if fearful of the words being somehow forbidden or cursed.

“You love him,” reassured Mariana before gently going to hold one of his hands. She squeezed. He squeezed back. “And you want to tell him… don’t you?” “...I do.” “Okay,” is all she replied before aiding him in finding a solution. A plan to properly structure his feelings in word form, one way or another.

—-  ˏˋ ✸ ˎˊ —-

‘Stick to the plan,’ Sherlock told himself whilst marching back up to 221B. ‘Just stick to the plan, and everything will be fine.’ It was easy, he thought, until he was back at the door to his flat, his home, with test tubes bubbling in his gut all over again. A hum of… love, apparently, according to Mariana. One that motivates him to push open the door, albeit carefully, as if it would shatter if he rushed into things. 

John was turned away from the entrance, fixated on something in the kitchen. Archie soon perked up from his bed upon being alerted to the detective’s presence and ambled over to him, jumping up a bit to paw at his leg. A small half-laugh, half-sigh sort of noise escaped his throat, and he can’t help but lean down to give the dog his due affections. “That you, Sherls?” rang that oh-so-familiar voice, whose owner soon turned around to discover the answer to his own question. “Oh good- I uh-” He shifted back to what could now be seen as two pots on the stove. Next to it, two plates ready to go with one half of Sherlock’s favorite comfort meal.

“Did you make-?” “Yep, just ah- just finishing up the sauce here.” Soon enough, tomato sauce was poured onto the penne noodles, cooked just as it was preferred, down to the very brands of sauce that were combined to create what was often described as “the perfect array of flavors.” He really did care for him… The thought made the taller man smile.

Both men soon took their seats, glasses of water already set at the couch table that John brought their plates over to. It isn’t even a few seconds, though, until the shorter shuffled back to the kitchen to retrieve the earlier cup of tea from the microwave. “It’s not as warm as it was earlier,” he sheepishly explained after sitting back down, “but I figured it’d be a shame if I just tossed a good cuppa of Chamomile. Besides, I didn’t know if you’d want it later and-” “Thank you.” His voice was soft, though his smile seemed softer. The sight alone brought a tinge of warmth to John’s cheeks. “Oh- Yeah, of course. Anytime.” Just as that second nature of kindness fascinated Sherlock so, too, was he fascinated by the patience of some of the people around him. Never cross when emotions threw his tone and temperament out of balance (not unless it was deserved, anyhow), yet never infantilizing him due to his behavior. There were times where it felt close, yes, but many times it was for good reason. Many others it was because of genuine concern for his well-being, just as he cared for theirs. In his own way, yes, but still never usually questioned in a negative light. Another thing he admired about the man that was John Watson, it seemed…

Minutes went by filled with nothing but the clinks of forks on plates, the occasional scratches and wanderings from Archie, the doctor talking to himself and the dog a bit. All the while, Sherlock attempted to keep his metaphorical ducks in a row internally. His thoughts raced around in the waters, threatening to spill out at times where a random urge struck him, only to be pushed back by the dam that was anxiety and comforting food filling his mouth.

‘If you tell him now, you’ll ruin the plan,’ Sherlock tells himself. ‘Have dinner, then go over the bullet points, rehearse what you want to say, then just say it. That way you say everything you want to say, you don’t embarrass yourself, and-’

“I love you.” Even Archie seemed to go silent at the words, ones that the detective didn’t even realize have left his mouth until he noticed John staring back at him in awe. Maybe he didn’t hear…? “You…? Sorry, what?”

‘Bugger.’  His complexion was quick to match the podcaster’s flushed face and then surpass it, the dam beginning to crack under pressure as he finished his bite of penne, careful not to choke on it. 

“There’s a stampede in my chest that I cannot control and it drives me mad when I am around you.” The anxious stimming started as fidgeting with the fork. 

“There are times where I have to watch you through my fingers because staring at your face for too long causes a bubbling in my stomach and chest that is almost nauseating.” Then it transitioned to snapping once the plate was put down. 

“It is an absolute whirlwind that has distracted me for some time now.” Then his leg was bouncing. 

“With you I am both anxious and at peace and comforted and confused and all sorts of things in between that I can hardly decipher on my own-”

Then-

“Woah- woah woah woah-” The plate and fork alike have been placed onto the table, the blonde holding up his hands in Sherlock’s general direction. “Easy, mate, easy.”

He did his best to do so, to “take it easy,” as it may, even if he felt the exact opposite in the current moment. Alarms rang in his mind, blaring at how he had completely and utterly ballsed up his whole plan after Mariana had so carefully gone over things with him. And now what would happen? Who was to say what would happen now?

“...Sorry,” the detective murmured, looking down at his plate with a twinge of guilt tainting those striking eyes of his, complimenting the embarrassment clearly shown on his florid face.

“No, no, you’re okay!” blurted John, almost instinctively placing a hand on his arm without a second thought. “I…uhm…”

The unexpected rise in volume gave Sherlock just enough courage to raise his gaze to glance at the man next to him, only to be met with a face similar to his own. Blushing, nervous, avoiding eye contact, smiling. He was… smiling? “I… I love you too, mate...”

It was almost amusing how much four simple words could mean to a person, how much weight they can carry coming from the right people. All of this pressure inside of the detective, fizzing and soaring and popping like fireworks inside of him. A slight smile creeped onto his face, even if he did think it premature, as he hadn’t even confirmed the meaning of these four - or rather, five - words.

“You… love me? You-” “Yeah- uhm-” John cleared his throat as a means of pausing before speaking. “I have for a while, mate, I just… each time I thought about bringing it up, I got this… this sinking feeling in my chest. Like something-” “-would go horribly wrong if you revealed your feelings?” Sherlock’s smile grew as he finished John’s sentence, particularly when being met with a nod of confirmation.

“Y-Yep. Dead on there, Sherls.”

The doctor’s flatmate soon pulled him into a tight hug, burying his head in the crook of the man’s neck. A factor that, especially when he could feel his best mate’s warmth, only increased his own. Nevertheless, he hugged back tight, above the diaphragm just as Mr. Holmes liked it. His arms stayed there, too, even as they both pulled out of the hug. It worked out, though, as Sherlock’s arms also seemed comfortable wrapped around John’s torso. “I love you,” he proclaimed once more, as if to triple confirm they shared this feeling.

“I love you too,” John echoed, laughing upon being given a second, shorter hug before the detective - his detective - is zooming around the flat, jumping up and down with a grin. 

‘Good grief is he adorable when he’s happy,’ the doctor silently pondered. Because they were, truly, especially now. They were both in love and happy. 

Even if the road to the moment had its bumps, they were both content with that.

 —- ‪‪❤︎‬ —-

[under-loch-n-key]

Longggg Sherlock & Co plot rant. You have been warned.

I know the creator of Sherlock & Co. found the idea of writing Moriarty into the series intimidating. Plus, not knowing how to do Sherlock's "death" over a podcast and such. But I had an idea.

I love the idea of Professor Moriarty being some sort of hacker/online troll and MORIARTY is the name of a dark web corporation that is trying to hack into the Sherlock & Co. Company to send Sherlock puzzles/cases. You lot know those shady anon hackers on the dark web in films and certain websites? Like that.

I think it would be cool if at first Moriarty leaves hate/weird comments on John's podcasting sites and Watson just thinks it is some hater and thinks nothing of it and deletes the comments. He just grumbles about the comments being a continous thing.

Suddenly the comments stop. Watson isn't complaining about it, he is relieved by that because they were really annoying him. (no matter how many times Sherlock & Mariana told him to ignore them.)

Later on, Watson gets these emails from an unknown email of some shady guy (Moriarty) taunting Sherlock (and the rest of the company) and sending them on goose chase cases (Like the BBC did in that one episode with the phone calls, in a way?)

When Moriarty becomes the main centre of the podcast episodes, instead of Sherlock dying, he gets kidnapped by Moriarty's network. Watson and Mariana embark on and have to solve their most important case yet "Where is Sherlock Holmes?" This would give us some cool dynamics and more screentime between Watson and Mariana.

Watson starts to panick because he thinks he isn't like Sherlock and Sherlock did tell him that he would never be able to figure out stuff the way he could. Mariana is there to support and be there for him. Watson and Mariana have to channel their inner Sherlock Holmes to solve the case.

Idk whether I like the idea of Sherlock expecting this to happen and leave behind clues in some way. I do know though, that I like the idea of the following cases being them trying to work on finding Sherlock.

When they do, Sherlock is banged up and Sherlock tells him "I trusted that you would find me, Watson. You really are a persistent fellow."

And Watson just runs up and hugs him and Mariana joins in and they are just mother henning him like crazy.

Watson tells Sherlock "Don't do that to me again. Don't disappear on me again, you hear?"

And Sherlock is like "It's not like I was expecting to kidnapped, John. Besides, your podcast wouldn't last without me."

Watson just huffs and tells him "No, no, it wouldn't. Just come here," and then goes to hug him again.

Mariana pulls away from them both in realisation and she tells them "Boys, I don't mean to break up our moment, but we still do have one problem."

They both look at her and Sherlock nods and says "Moriarty. He's still out there."

I want it to be implied that they came face to face while Sherlock was kidnapped.

"He? Sherlock, you saw him?" Watson replies.

"Indeed, Watson and I think I know where he'll be waiting next."

*cue Sherlock & Co. End of episode music.*

Anyways, then we get to the episode of the Reichenbach fall, they have their final facedown. Sherlock doesn't die, but Moriarty does fall.

Watson would 100% be grumbling about how he can't pick up any audio over the sound of the falls.

Sherlock and Moriarty would begin fighting and Watson would start describing the scene in a panicked tone.

Sherlock calls over "Not helping, Watson!"

After more sounds of fighting and nervous ramblings from Watson. Sherlock & Moriarty turn the corner of the falls into a blind spot.

All Watson hears and sees is a cry and someone fall and crash into the water.

Watson panicks and shouts "SHERLOCK!" then dashes up to where they were fighting. Sherlock is sitting down and catching his breath.

Sherlock would probably make a smartarse comment like "Ah, John. Glad you make it. Help me up will you?"

"You're not dead."

"Clearly, or else we wouldn't be speaking. Now, would you please help me up?"

"Right, yeah." Watson helps him up.

"So, you, erm, you killed him?"

"I did. His baritsu was lacking, so his demise was inevitable."

"You're a clever, bugger, mate. Now, lift home?"

"Yes, of course."

I think it would be funny if the episode ended like this. They get home and Mariana starts mother-henning them both and she is scolding them both in Spanish about being more careful, how much she cares for them both, etc. Then she hugs them both.

Later on, we cut to them sitting in their chairs and talking about, well, everything.

"It's good to have you home, you know? I- well, Mariana and I both missed you."

"Mm. It's good to be home, Watson. I prefer the smell of our flat to the vile odour of where I was."

"Do you want to talk about it? Because, I, erm, am always here if you need a good talk."

"Not at the moment, Watson, but I will keep that in mind."

Long pause.

"So, Moriarty's network.. is it?-"

"Gone? Mm. No, but it will be taken care of."

"How? They are bloody HUGE, Sherlock. Shouldn't we, I don't know, contact Lestrade? Actually, the whole bloody Scotland Yard?"

"They're useless here, Watson. I'll leave this to the government."

"The government? Sherlock, we both know what they are. The government is not reliable in the slightest."

"Mm. The government you are discussing, yes. They are indeed unreliable, but in this instance I am discussing a WHO not a what."

"Friends in high places?"

"No. Much much worse."

"Oh, erm, an enemy then?"

"Mycroft is not an enemy, but certainly not a friend."

"What the devil is a 'Mycroft'?"

"My brother."

There's a long silence in the audio

"YOUR WHAT!?"

*Cue end of episode music*

I think this concept would be a cool way to be introduced to Mycroft, Watson realising his capibilities since meeting Sherlock, more screentime with Mariana and John's friendship, a way to do the podcast without killing Sherlock and having the time gap between Sherlock's "death" and resurrection, etc.

If you made it to the end of my Sherlock & Co plot concept ramble, good for you. Lol. Anyway, I just thought this would be a cool concept. The rant kinda blended into a fic, but oh well.

Do you lot like this idea? I thought it would be neat.

If John (or even the creator of Sherlock & Co) sees this ever, I will spontaneously combust. 😳

Enjoy my story/plot rant-

(Sorry for any typos, I am sick and half-asleep)

(I am so normal about them, I swear-)