#married johnlock

[petite-madame]

Three Times - (2024)

Three times Sherlock and John couldn't resist kissing in the London means of transportation.

[fogdraws]

A passage of the start of The Valley of Fear I thought would be worth sketching. I'm still working on their designs tho- I really wanted to make them unique to me yk

[wildcatharsis]

With all the talk of ships that were lost in the war of queerbaiting (destiel, merthur, johnlock) after 9-1-1 WON the war (half way, we're still getting there) I'd like to pour one out for the oft forgotten but maybe worst queerbait of them all (imo at least)

McDanno

[sexy-sapphic-sorcerer]

(Rogozhin tries to persuade Holmes to marry Madame Petrova)

The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes (1970) dir. Billy Wilder

[sandwormb]

Disappearing Husbands

[elinordash]

SHERLOCK HOLMES (1984 - 1994) ↳ 4x03 | Silver Blaze

[xia0ming56]

Blue carbuncle is a new christmas classic in my book

[bd-wlf]

I CALLED IT, I-

JEALOUSY DR. WATSON ??!!!

This mf James Lovegrove, THEY'RE MARRIED YOUR HONOR

"I did not resent Grier for it. Rather, I resented myself for having left a void that required filling." IM FUCKING EXPLODED

[jolieblack]

Something finally came to me! (I usually can’t write to prompts to save my life.)

May Prompts 2024 by @calaisreno

May 24th: Imperfect

We've always done things the wrong way round.

We moved in together at a time when we knew no more than four or five facts about each other. Significant facts, granted, such as John being a war veteran and me having no patience with idiots, but neither of us could have claimed to have had anything even close to the full picture at the time. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if either of us had. Only on my really bad days, though.

I don’t have all that many of those any more, luckily. And when I do, I have plenty of good memories to help me pull myself up again. Take the ones of how we confessed our love to each other to a beautifully decorated room full of people in festive dress and in even more festive spirit, to much applause and cheering and well-wishing. Yes, you heard that plural right. Those are two separate memories, years apart and in two different places. I got to go first, and it wasn’t even me who was getting married at the time. That’s another thing that most couples would do differently. Coordinate it a bit better, at least.

The second time around, as a lot of you will remember well, it was John's turn to talk, and I‘d been told in no uncertain terms to keep my mouth shut and say nothing, not even to correct his grammar, till he was done. I can now attest that it is true that the groom never gets to have a say in anything at his own wedding. Someone got his late revenge there. And believe me, that doesn’t depend on whether it’s one groom or two. Yes, and I know there are still people out there even in this day and age who feel that it’s not normal to have two grooms at all. They can all go away and never show their ugly faces again where I can see them, or smell the foul breath of the bigoted filth they’re spouting. That’s not the wrong way around, that couldn’t be more right for both of us.

But we did other things the wrong way around, too. In most romantic stories, killing someone to save the person you love is usually the culmination of long mutual trust and dedication. It‘s supposed to be the crowning glory, the final sealing of a bond that has long been in the making. It’s not supposed to be the starting point. And John is usually the more patient of the two of us, but when it came to this, he could barely contain himself for 36 hours after our very first meeting before he did it. Ever heard of timing and pacing, Doctor, I hear you people wonder? And he’s supposed to be the one with the talent for good storytelling. The timing was good, though. The timing was excellent. There’s another 'what if' for you that is no fun to contemplate at all.

There is killing out of love, and - I have to say it, I can’t not, I‘d be lying by omission if I didn't - there's also dying out of love. I doubt, however, that there’s anyone out there who has ever put a more elaborate effort into pretending to die out of love than I have. As far as I‘m aware, that’s not really a romantic convention, either, and I sincerely hope I haven’t started a trend. I honestly can’t recommend it. Effort is well and good, and I dare say the execution in my case was flawless, but I can’t deny there was a certain lack of forethought as to the emotional impact on both parties concerned. Don‘t try this at home, folks.

People also usually date first, then start cohabiting, then get married, then raise children together. Please don’t ask me to define at what time in our lives exactly John and I were dating and when we weren’t yet. To this day we have never been able to agree on a definition for this mysterious activity that emphatically, according to John, for whatever reason, does not encompass two people who like each other going out together and having fun. But it is an undisputed fact that we had been raising a child together for a good while before we got married. And we have been going out together and having fun for years uncounted now. Crime scenes never fail to work that particular magic on us. Oh wait, no, that was another example I had on my list for what most other couples do differently. Hang on, do I see a certain Chief Inspector of Scotland Yard raise his hand in objection? Raising both hands, actually, showing us… what, seven fingers? Is that the number of couples working for the Metropolitan Police that you know personally who have met at crime scenes? Or are you reminding us of the number of times John and I were actually kicked off a crime scene because we were enjoying ourselves entirely too much, and were told not to come back till we could behave like adults? I could have sworn those were more than seven occasions, but I‘ll take your word for it.

Talking of raising a child together, I‘m sure Rosie will say a word or three about that herself later, but I have never understood why most of you had doubts about the practicability of that particular endeavour. Let me just tell you that a baby carrier is entirely compatible with a cashmere scarf, or didn’t you know cashmere can absorb up to a third of its own dry weight in liquid? And it got only easier from there when Rosie grew older and stopped affectionately drooling on whoever enjoyed the happy privilege of holding her and carrying her around. She hasn’t demanded being carried around in a good while now, and I don’t know what our poor old backs would say to that these days. But we were talking about happy memories, weren’t we, so there’s another. And at least in the metaphorical sense, I hope you know, Rosie, that you’ll be held and carried for as long as you want and need, as long as we both live. You were my daughter even before I was your father’s husband, and that has been one of the greatest honours bestowed on me in my life.

Because this is who we are, isn’t it, our crazy little family, where nothing is as you’d expect it to be. But we still wouldn’t have it any other way, topsy-turvy, weird, flawed and utterly imperfect, but also utterly us, unique, one of a kind. I don’t know if it was fate that threw us together, or if it really was just a whim on the part of the comfortable, corpulent, bespectacled gentleman sitting at this table over here, smirking with his trademark benevolence. But there’s a debt of gratitude to be paid there, and today is a good day to do it. In this at least, we’re doing the conventional thing, but who’s to say we’re not allowed to do that at least once in a quarter-century.

So, ladies and gentlemen, dear friends and family from far and wide, I give you: John Watson, the man of my life, the man at my side for over thirty years, and for exactly twenty-five years in the legal sense on this very day. Please raise your glasses with us to the next twenty-five. And for God’s sake stop snivelling like that, Mycroft. You’re embarrassing the whole room.

[sherlockcorner]

they are married in my heart or in another universe...

[fogdraws]

Just like Watson's marriage is changing Sherlock's habits :(

(excerpt taken from "A Scandal in Bohemia")

[ineffablesheets]

Sherlock: I’ve calculated the most efficient way to share the bed. If we both shift 15 degrees to the left—

John: Sherlock. Just sleep.

[echoesofcamelot]

Feeling a lot of feelings about these two today.

Are you happy? At this moment. Are you as happy as you would be on your honeymoon in Brighton?

[pix-writes]

Found this soft interaction in the Master Blackmailer episode - Holmes touches Watson's shoulder so tenderly! and its very brief part in frame, but you can see how Holmes' hand lingers on touching his shoulder even as he moves away <3

(spoilers in thoughts under readmore)

Watching this there are some wonderful moments of justified anger in it, I can see how much this case and the injustice wounds Holmes, and in turn stresses Watson (who's concern in Sherlock is also very justified, that even he himself says he went about the case in ways he's not proud of, in the end... poor Aggie made me laugh initially, but then feel burning second-hand shame at how Holmes used her during this case.) Robert Hardy is an amazing villain in this!!!! I got goosebumps from the way Milverton looked at people during this whole episode, like a predator sizing up its prey. Chilling

[so-youre-unattached-like-me]

I don't want the "they are practically living together, what's the point of marriage?", I NEED them to go through all the procedures, even if they seem stupid and too much.

I want to see how the gold band gains its meaning.

I want the exaggerated "I regret marrying you" when the least significant incident happens.

Please, let them marry in your stories more.

[with-a-ghost-mr-holmes]

Fluffbruary: Day 16

John runs into one of The Married Ones at Tesco. Prompts: neighbour, desire, horse.

John’s at Tesco when he runs into their next-door neighbour.

“John, hi!”

“Paul, how are you?”

“Fine. Don’t need to bother asking how you are, do I?” He winks mischievously, much to John’s mortification.

He and Sherlock were overwhelmed by desire the night before and might’ve been slightly louder than usual.

“Don’t worry, mate,” Paul reassures him. “We’re envious, that’s all.”

John can barely open his mouth before Paul is leaving.

“You’re a dark horse, John, I like that!” Paul calls out as he heads to the checkout counters.

John stands there and wishes the ground would swallow him up.

(Ok, this is not fluff, strictly speaking, but let us all just pretend like it counts 😂)

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