#mycroft holmes x original female character

[my-head-is-an-animal]

The Sitter

Mycroft Holmes x Bethany Wheeler (OFC)

Story Masterlist

Chapter 4 - Austria

Over the next week, Mycroft hadn’t managed to drop by to see Bethany and felt a twinge of guilt over it, but she was in good spirits regardless, having had a very exciting week with Sherlock catching a murderer and feeling like she was a real-life detective. He had phoned her the day before John and Mary were due back to tell him all about it and he’d heard from Sherlock that they wouldn’t have been caught had Bethany not pieced together the motive.

‘I mean, people do crazy things for love, don’t they?’ She said, he could hear her walking home, it was still light out and Mycroft felt slightly comforted that she wouldn’t be in any danger from the men in the house down the road.

‘Indeed.’ He agreed, signing a document that Anthea put in front of him. Mycroft was good at hiding who was calling him by now that his assistant didn’t bat an eyelid. She soon left him alone and he felt comfortable enough to put his feet up before his next meeting. ‘So, you’ve had an exciting week?’

‘Yeah, it’s been great.’ She said, smiling and hopefully enjoying the sunshine. ‘Wish you could’ve dropped by, we would have solved it a lot sooner if you had.’

‘By the sounds of things, you hardly needed me.’ Mycroft said, picturing her in the sun again. ‘I’m sure Sherlock appreciated the insight you have into human emotion.’

‘Yeah, I did have to talk to the victim’s sister a bit more than I thought I would, Sherlock wasn’t being particularly sensitive.’

‘No, I’m afraid he isn’t the type.’ Mycroft mused. ‘You have plans though, don’t you? A hiking trip next week?’

‘Are you spying on me, Mycroft Holmes?’

‘I wouldn’t dare.’ He said playfully. ‘Sherlock mentioned something about it.’

‘That had better be the truth,’ she warned, her smile still evident. ‘If I find out you’ve been watching me in the shower, I’ll make your life very difficult.’

‘I have no doubt, Miss Wheeler.’ He agreed, though the image of her in the shower was a particularly desirable one. ‘Where are you going?’

‘I’m surprised you don’t know.’ She laughed. ‘Yeah, me and a few friends are going camping in Austria, a little bit of hiking and maybe rock climbing if we can. It’s good to get out into the world, see what’s there, you know.’

‘Not my scene, I’m afraid, but do enjoy it.’ Mycroft was a little sad that he couldn’t enjoy the outdoors the way she clearly did, but then again, he’d rather she just be happy.

‘Oh, I’ve been looking forward to this for months, there’s no way I’m not enjoying myself.’ She said, he could hear the sounds of a key unlocking her front door. ‘What are your plans while I’m away?’

‘Running the country.’ He deadpanned, making her giggle. ‘Unfortunately, I will be out of contact for the time you’re away, a few meetings that require my full attention, free from distraction.’

‘And I’m a distraction, am I?’

Mycroft was quiet for a moment, contemplating whether he should have told her the truth. ‘A welcome one, but a distraction nonetheless.’

He listened to her entering her room and making herself comfortable. Picturing her on her bed with a smile still plastered to her face.

‘I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or not.’ She teased. ‘So, come on, tell me all the top secret government things you’ll be working on while I’m gone.’

‘Well, seeing as you asked so nicely.’ Mycroft loved the sound of her laughing, far more than he wanted to admit to. ‘But I would like to hear about your trip when you get back.’

‘Yeah? You want to get some dinner or something?’ Bethany asked fairly casually, diminishing Mycroft’s hopes that it could be considered anything more than a friendly encounter. ‘It’s been ages since I’ve seen you anyway, it’d be good, I think.’

‘Dinner sounds perfectly acceptable. Let me know when you’ve returned and I’ll make the arrangements.’

‘Great, nothing too fancy though, I’m not a woman of class, I am a lowly peasant, remember?’

‘You sell yourself far too short.’ Mycroft said, gently. ‘But I will keep in mind your request.’

‘Good.’ She was still smiling. ‘Right, I’ve got some journals to read and you’ve got a country to run, or maybe the secret service to order around…’

‘Nice try.’

‘Can’t fault a girl for being persistent.’

‘Absolutely not.’

‘Right, I’ll catch up with you before I leave. Have a good one Mycroft.’

‘You too.’

Mycroft hung up the phone, idly wondering what journals she was reading, probably light reading as part of her course, but he wished he knew more, it was infuriating for a moment. He was used to just setting up surveillance on people and finding out what he needed to know, but he wouldn’t risk it with Bethany, he didn’t want to upset her for any reason.

He heard a knock at the door and Anthea reminded him that he had a meeting with Lady Smallwood concerning Charles Augustus Magnusson. He internally groaned and tried to focus on something else that wasn’t Bethany Wheeler and him sitting across from each other at dinner.

Mycroft received a final text from Bethany before she caught her flight to Austria, it was a picture of her in the airport with her friends waiting to board the plane and read:

Off to see the world and have adventures. Let me know if you want me to send photos, otherwise, please don’t start a war that means I can’t get home again! – BW

Mycroft smiled, trying to subtly text back whilst in a meeting with Lady Smallwood.

You’re the anarchist, I’m depending on you not to cause an international incident. My power only extends so far. Have fun. Stay safe. – MH

Mycroft would have loved to spend the next week getting the odd photo from her while she was on her travels, but while he was dealing with the Magnusson hearing, he couldn’t let himself be distracted or give him anything to use against him. Bethany was fast becoming a valuable bargaining chip for anyone who might have wanted to get close to Mycroft and he needed to be careful.

He spent the week trying to put out fires where he could, noting that Magnusson had leverage over Lady Smallwood, something that resulted in his interview being dismissed as inconclusive. Mycroft was furious that he’d managed to worm his way into her life like that, possibly with the intention of getting closer to him. Was it a warning shot? It wasn’t clever and it only served to bring out a side in Mycroft he rarely showed other than when someone irritated him a little too much.

He proceeded to distance himself further from a few situations, handing them off to someone who could just about handle it and hoped that would be enough to keep Magnusson at arm’s length. It worked for a while, but Mycroft was searching for a more permanent solution.

He spent most nights sitting in front of the fire, focussing on the next move he needed to make in several different operations he had going. Some more dangerous than others, but all of them as equally demanding of his attention.

By the time the week was up, he was exhausted and looking forward to everything being over so that he could move onto more pressing matters.

Guess who’s back! – BW

The welcome sight of Bethany’s picture message from the taxi home was all he needed to feel his body relax into something calmer. She was laughing in the picture with one of her friends, he hadn’t realised it was a male friend she was holidaying with and felt an instant jealousy. She was more tanned than she had been in the last message he sent, her freckles were almost hidden and her hair was sun bleached, making her look like some kind of exotic creature completely out of his league. She was stunningly pretty. Those dark eyes stared directly at him and made him feel like someone could really see him. It both calmed and unnerved him. Mycroft sighed and typed out a reply whilst getting into his car to go home.

Glad to see you made it back without causing too much trouble. Homeward bound? – MH

Pub. We’re meeting a few friends to celebrate our triumphant return. – BW

And so you should. Stay safe on the way home and please do call if you need anything or if you actually run into trouble. – MH

I will. Thank you, Mycroft. – BW

Mycroft took a deep breath and allowed his mind to finally relax properly after a week of worrying about everything under the sun. Bethany was back and she was in good spirits, Magnusson was being kept at a distance and every operation he was watching seemed to be settling right where he needed them to. There was nothing to worry about.

Well… there was one thing that had his mind racing. Dinner with Bethany. He promised they could spend an evening together once she was back and he wasn’t a man to break a promise.

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[fairy-writes]

fairy's fics for gaza

hello everyone! i'm not sure anyone would even be interested or care about this but i'm OPENING REQUESTS for @ficsforgaza !! by tossing my hat into the ring, i hope to help raise money and interest for this cause!

keep in mind i'll maybe close my requests if i get overwhelmed or can't fulfill a request. i am setting the donation limit for $5 for 500 words. ofc this is subject to change (e.g. you want a shorter or longer request)

how this works!

you (the reader): send me A DIRECT MESSAGE (not an ask pls, those are reserved for regular requests) asking for a request. i will start working on your request once you've provided proof to me (with any personal info removed) of your donation to a VETTED FUNDRAISER. DO NOT SEND ME THE MONEY

me (the writer): once i have vetted the fundraiser (there is a list to choose from HERE), i will begin work on your request. keep in mind i have other projects to get done (e.g. original stories, other requests still in my inbox, etc.) so it won't be published right away.

LIST OF FANDOMS/PEOPLE I'LL WRITE FOR (these are all x reader):

Arcane: League of Legends: Viktor, Silco, Jayce Talis, Vi, Vander, Caitlyn Kiramman, Mel Medarda

Bungou Stray Dogs: Nakajima Atsushi, Nakahara Chuuya, Dazai Osamu, Kunikida Doppo, Fukuzawa Yukichi, Saigiku Jouno, Suehiro Tecchou

The Case Study of Vanitas: Vanitas, Noé Archiviste, Roland Fortis, Dominique de Sade

Demon Slayer: All the Hashira, Akaza, Kokushibo, Douma, Kibutsuji Muzan, Kamado Tanjiro (aged up), Agatsuma Zenitsu (aged up), Hashibira Inosuke (aged up)

Doctor Who: The Doctor (9th, 10th, 11th, 12th), Jack Harkness, River Song

Fullmetal Alchemist: Roy Mustang, Greed, Riza Hawkeye, Jean Havoc, Envy, Alex Louis Armstrong, Olivier Armstrong, Edward Elric (post-FMAB), Alphonse Elric (post-FMAB), Ling Yao (post-FMAB)

Grimm (NBC): Nick Burkhardt, Hank Griffin, Sean Renard, Drew Wu, Monroe

Jujutsu Kaisen: Gojo Satoru, Fushiguro Toji, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Itadori Yuuji (aged up), Fushiguro Megumi (aged up)

Moriarty the Patriot: William James Moriarty, Albert James Moriarty, Louis James Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes, Fred Porlock, Sebastian Moran, James Bonde

Tokyo Ghoul: Uta, Kaneki Ken, Kirishima Touka, Kirishima Ayato (re: age), Nishio Nishiki, Tsukiyama Shuu

GENERAL RULES

i write specifically SFW. no NSFW or dark content here folks. though there are plenty of participating authors who write either dark content or NSFW!

all writing is gender neutral but can be customized to a female!reader

absolutely no exclusionists welcome. that includes anyone who is or condones racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, aphobia, ableism, islamophobia, antisemitism, or anything similar.

things that WON'T be written: nsfw/smut/spice (implied or otherwise), abusive relationships, yandere, self-harm, suicide, eating disorders, mental disorders, incest, character x character, character x oc

if you have any further questions please let me know!! i've never done something like this and it's very probable i've left something unclear lol.

feel free to check out the BLOG for more information! they also have a FAQ here!

[mzannthropy]

Sam Claflin + well developed female characters

I once posted a list of Sam's female-directed films [x], but as @jesstasticvoyage points out, it's also true that a lot of stuff he stars in features well developed female characters (I'm kinda tired of the "strong female character" phrase, so using this one instead). So, let's have a look at them.

The Hunger Games series (dir Francis Lawrence) - still the most obvious example for Sam as a role he's known for, and the purpose of this post. It's safe to say most people know Katniss Everdeen.

Their Finest (dir Lone Scherfig) - Gemma Arterton's character, Catrin, is an aspiring screenwriter hired to work on a script for a film about Dunkirk evacuation--this is a movie about a movie set during WW2. Sam is a fellow writer, in fact he is the one who discovered her. It's funny bc this takes place in 1940s and she gets the job of writing female characters, when even in our times we don't always have that. Worth noting is also Rachael Stirling's Phyl, a minor character but memorable and a lesbian--who doesn't die at the end. It's the straight relationship that gets treated like bury your gays trope this time!

The Nightingale (dir Jennifer Kent) - also known as the film in which Sam plays an absolute monster (you think Billy Dunne is bad, lol). The film centres on young convict Claire (Aisling Franciosi) seeking revenge for the indescribable harm done to her family. Basically, trigger warning for everything.

My Cousin Rachel (dir Roger Michell) - adaptation of Daphne du Maurier's novel. Sam plays Philip, the narrator, but Rachel is so intriguing, the whole story is named for her. She's played by her namesake, Rachel Weisz. There's also Louise (Holliday Granger), Philip's childhood friend. She's the relatable, girl next door type, but she is smart, in fact I think she is the one with the most braincells. (Also I have a theory about her, I think this version of Louise has a darker side!)

Enola Holmes (dir Harry Bradbeer) - title speaks for itself. Enola's mother is missing and the teenage heroine goes on a quest to find her and thus becomes a detective herself. Sam plays Mycroft, the eldest Holmes sibling, though he's far removed from the original Mycroft Holmes of Arthur Conan Doyle's books. Edith, who runs a teashop, is another notable female character.

Adrift (dir Baltasar Kormakur) - based on a true story of Tami Oldham, an amateur sailor, surviving 41 days adrift on the Pacific Ocean after a hurricane. Sam plays her bf Richard. Shailene Woodley has the role of Tami and is also the film's producer.

Riot Club (dir Lone Scherfig) - okay so what's this doing here, you ask, it's a film about an all-male elite club at Oxford. Yes but that's exactly the point, bc even though it is about an all male club, the female characters are surprisingly well developed. The play this is adapted from, Posh, was written by Laura Wade and the director is also a woman, so maybe it's not so surprising. We have Holliday Granger who plays the gf of one of the boys and Jessica Brown Findlay in the role of the pub landlord's daughter. Holliday's character certainly doesn't take any shit from the posh boys. Even Natalie Dormer in the role of a sex worker has enough self-respect to refuse their deranged requests, despite the amount of money it would earn her. Hence I include it on the list.

Charlie's Angels (dir Elizabeth Banks) - title speaking for itself, yet again. Sam's role is relatively minor.

Book of Love (dir Analeine Cal y Mayor) - a romcom. When Maria, played by Veronica Echegui, translates Henry's (Sam) unsuccessful book from English to Spanish, the book becomes a huge hit in Mexico. Turns out that while translating, she inserted some seriously hot steamy scenes. Sam travels to Mexico for promotion and the two of them now have to work together on the next book. So without Maria, the story would not exist and also, once Henry accepts the situation, he is happy to collaborate with her--and at the end, supports her in her own writing efforts. (If you can get round the premise, it is an enjoyable film.)

Daisy Jones and the Six - mini series based on a book of the same name. We have not one, not two, not three, but four amazing ladies to root for: Daisy, Camila, Karen and Simone. While Sam gives performance of a lifetime as the band's frontman Billy Dunne.

Other Notes:

Honourable mentions are Snow White (Kristen Stewart) in Snow White and the Huntsman, a film I have a definite soft spot for though there's many ways it could have been better. In The Corrupted Sam plays a convict who just got out of prison and reunites with his gf and son. The gf is played by Naomi Ackie. She's wary at first but does allow him back into her life and they get back together and raise their son. Unsure if another one of my faves, Pirates of the Caribbean On Stranger Tides apply. Sam's romance with the mermaid Syrena is my absolute favourite of his. She might seem helpless for majority of her screentime, bc she gets captured, turns human on dry land and is unable to walk as she's not used to having legs, Philip (Sam's character) has to carry her. But she was the one who saved him first. And POTC overall is not without good female characters.

[savvy-devine666]

Chapters: 13/? Fandom: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock BBC Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character/Original Female Character, Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Original Male Characters/Original Male Characters Characters: Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Original Female Character(s), Rosamund Mary "Rosie" Watson, Original Male Characters Additional Tags: Romance, Drama, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Gang activity, gun viloance, Gun Crime, Recreational Drug Use, Manipulation, Death Threats, same sex relationships, Friendship, Pregnancy, Gun running, Action, Canon-Typical Violence, Humor, Songs are involved, Human Trafficking Series: Part 8 of Roads Less Walked Summary:

Guns, gangs, and a client with a gripping new problem - for John and Sherlock it’s gratifying to return to normality after the sticky situation of Sherrinford a year and a half ago. Things aren't so easy for Mycroft and Melody however; choices need to be made, discussions must be had, and getting embroiled in Sherlocks’ latest case could have come at the worst possible time, or maybe best.

The Game isn’t over yet!

[honeypiehotchner]

Deception (John Watson x OFC) -- part seventeen

I think I’ve made you guys wait long enough, so I won’t be hesitating to post these last few parts. The epilogue is all that’s left. This one is pretty sad, I won’t lie :( 

Small mention/warning for pregnancy/abortion.

“These are yours, I do believe,” Sherlock says, nudging my arm.

           I turn and look to see he has my heels from the restaurant we’re leaving behind. “Thanks.” I take them from him angrily. He pauses walking, allowing me to use his arm to help me stay balanced while I slip back into them. Ahead of us, John continues walking, clenching and unclenching his hand, a habit I thought he had kicked a few months ago. The sight of his sunken shoulders and loud footsteps has my heart aching, and I know it’s all my doing.

           I know it’s only going to get worse.

           Inside the small restaurant – the name I didn’t bother to even catch – John sits across from Sherlock and I at a table for four. When I tried sitting next to John, he silently glared at the chair. That was enough for me to move next to Sherlock.

           Unbeknownst to the idiot private detective next to me, I would also like to slam his head into a wall right now. But I won’t. If I kick his ass, it’ll be done privately.

           John is silent, giving me the time to lay into Sherlock.

           “You couldn’t have talked to me about this?” I nearly yell at him. “You could’ve come to my house, not crashed our fucking dinner reservation and gotten yourself thrown out of the place!”

           “If I remember correctly it was John who punched me.”

           “Because you’re a giant idiot with no concern for anyone’s feelings!”

           “I could say the same about you,” Sherlock replies testily, narrowing his eyes. “When were you going to tell him?”

           I glare at the man before me. “Faking your death is not a good look on you, Sherlock. It changed you.”

           Sherlock merely tilts his head, firing up his next witty remark, but John speaks before he can. “Answer him.”

           I turn my head to my boyfriend – can I still call him that? “What?”

           “You heard me,” John replies, all affection gone from his tone. “I want to know. When were you going to tell me you knew him? And anything else I’m sure you’ve been lying to me about. Surely knowing him isn’t the only thing.”

           “John…”

           “Don’t,” he snaps, shaking his head. “Don’t. Just tell me.”

��          So I do. “My real name is Nicole Jane Stewart,” I say. “You knew me—”

           “I don’t know you at all. Keep going.”

           The blow stings when it hits me, but I nod, continuing. “I’m a retired federal agent. Or I was. About a year and a half ago, Mycroft came to me asking for my help. I wasn’t going to agree because I’ve been out of work for a long time, but Sherlock and I were friends, and Mycroft knew I could never say no to helping out a friend.”

           John scoffs. I blink the tears out of my eyes, catching one before it has the chance to fall.

           “My job was simple, to be your therapist and to keep you sane. I have a Bachelors in Psychology and a Masters in Counseling Services, so it wasn’t illegal at all. I was to report to…Mycroft about your wellbeing every month. It was for your safety, John.”

           “Great,” John shakes his head, nodding to Sherlock. “So while you were dead, your brother kept tabs on me through an undercover government spy right under my nose.”

           “I’m not a spy—”

           “You might as well be,” John interrupts me, his gaze falling on me, and I flinch when it does. “So all this time, you knew?”

           I nod slowly.

           “You knew he was alive and you let me grieve and you—We went to his bloody fucking gravesite—!”

           “I know!” I cry, wanting nothing more than to hold him as I tell him all this. That was the plan I had in mind, as silly as it sounds now. To be at home, my house, on the couch, holding him close, confessing it all. “I know, and I’m sorry, but you have to understand, falling in love wasn’t part of the plan. I was only supposed to be your therapist, but then you asked me out—”

           “So this is all my fault then, is it?”

           “No, John, it’s not, that’s not what I’m—”

           “Then don’t say it like it is,” he bites through every word, his eyes showing a hatred toward me that I never thought I’d see. It’s chilling. “Don’t. Pretend. That you care about me, when you let this happen. If you truly loved me, you wouldn’t have done this to me.”

           There is no point in arguing with him. None at all. I nod.

           “That’s it?” John continues. “That’s all you have to say for yourself?”

           “Nothing I say will make this better or change what happened,” I reply slowly, catching another tear on my finger. “I love you, John. My feelings for you have and always will be real. You have to know that.”

           He looks down, saying nothing.

           That’s that, then.

           I stand from the table, wincing as the chair squeaks against the tile. “I’m going to go,” I announce. “So you two can talk the rest of this out. Goodbye, John.”

           He barely moves.

           I look down at Sherlock. “Goodbye. I hope faking your death was worth it.”

           I brush past him and the table, not looking back. There’s no point in it. I was foolish and let myself believe John wouldn’t care. I was foolish and in love and it’ll never happen again.

           Never.

+++

Mycroft stares at me almost solemnly from his desk. I came here to see if he can fire up the private jet tonight and get me the hell out of England as soon as possible. Apparently, since he’s Mycroft, he can. The pilot said he should be ready in an hour.

           I return all of the documents and devices, including Jane’s iPhone. I’ll get a new one when I get back to America, or maybe I won’t. Who knows.

           I requested that Mycroft have some clothes for me to change into, and thankfully he supplied me with sweatpants and a hoodie. It’s exactly the kind of comfort I need right now.

           When I emerge from the bathroom in my new clothes, I muster up a weak smile. “Thank you for getting the jet and all. You can take it out of my funds for the pilot. I imagine he’s not happy to be flying at nine at night.”

           “That won’t be necessary,” Mycroft waves my offer away. “And the pilot is a night owl. It’s why I hired him for moments like these.”

           I nod, not in the mood for anymore arguments.

           “Thank you,” Mycroft says suddenly. “For coming out of retirement.”

           “No problem.”

           “I know it wasn’t easy,” Mycroft continues, and by the look in his eyes, I know exactly what he’s alluding to. “But John Watson would not have survived if it weren’t for you.”

           “If you say so,” I mutter. “I think he would’ve been better off without ever meeting me.”

           “I don’t think so,” Mycroft shakes his head. He eyes me for a moment, up and down, before settling back on my face. “You’re pregnant.”

           “I know,” I murmur. “Or I had my suspicions.” I only had half a glass of wine last night because with every sip, something felt off. And I opted for water tonight at dinner because of it. “I haven’t taken a test yet, but I will once I’m home.”

           Mycroft furrows his eyebrows. “You aren’t going to tell John?”

           “What’s the point?” I shrug, looking up through my tear-soaked lashes. “He wants nothing to do with me. I doubt a child will change that. It’s better if I just go.” I don’t even know if I’ll keep it.

           Mycroft must have read my mind just from my expression. He doesn’t mention it, though, and for that I’m grateful. All he says instead is, “I’m sorry, Nicole.”

           “Yeah,” I chuckle sadly. “Me too, Mycroft.”

           He nods, sensing the nearing end. “Well. I’ll call a car to take you to the airport. The pilot should be ready by the time you arrive.” He pauses. “You’ll let me know when you’re home safe?”

           “Sure,” I smile. Despite our differences, Mycroft has always seen and protected me as a sister. Even if sometimes his actions seemed twisted. “I’ll send an email.”

           “Alright,” he murmurs.

           I take a seat in the cushioned chair against the wall. I close my eyes, leaning my head back against the wall. Mycroft talks on the phone briefly before hanging up.

           “The car is outside, whenever you’re ready.”

           “Okay,” I whisper, opening my eyes. “You know, Mycroft, I get it now.”

           He raises his eyebrows. “Get what?”

           I keep my gaze on the picture opposite of me. “Why you’re alone. It’s easier.”

           “I don’t know about it being easier,” he admits, folding his hands. “But it’s hard to find love in this line of work.”

           “Caring is not an advantage, I think you said once.” I scoff, shaking my head. “How right you were.”

           I push myself up from the chair, surprised to find Mycroft is walking around his desk toward me.

           “I’ll walk you up,” he says. “I’ll never ask another favor from you, Agent Stewart. I swear.”

           “Please,” I try not to cry. “Just call me Nicole. I’m a shit agent.”

           “You’re not,” Mycroft protests lightly, pulling the door open for me. “But as you wish, Nicole.”

           We walk up the stairs and out front to the car in silence. Mycroft stands on the sidewalk as the car door is opened for me. At the last minute, I wrap my arms around him in brief hug. I’m not sure if I just needed one, if he looked like he needed one, or if I thought he deserved it after our conversation. But regardless, he hugs me back, swearing to me once more that he won’t ask another favor of me.

+++

The private jet touches down in America around ten at night. I’m at my home by eleven.

           Everything is the same as I left it.

           I grab my laptop and search for the charger. Once I find it, I plug the computer in and wait for it to come up. As soon as it does, I send an email to Mycroft, letting him know I have arrived and am back home now.

           He replies quickly (the notification nearly scares me half to death) and tells me thank you. And that John called him looking for me.

           I read it, but I don’t reply.

[that-irishman-fan]

sherlock sexuality headcanons!

Ay, everyone! I’m back with a brief list on my personal sexuality headcanons for the characters of the hit BBC show “Sherlock” that I fucking love. I’m only on the last episode of Series Three, so if y’all are going to comment or reblog, please NO SPOILERS! Anyways, sorry for my rants, I’ll just get right into what you came for here! As a LGBTQ+ member myself, I am so excited to write these headcanons for these OBVIOUSLY GAY cinnamon-buns! Let’s do it!

SHERLOCK HOLMES

Asexual biromantic in my opinion. I totally think he’s attracted to Watson, in a romantic and platonic sort of way, rather than a sexual infatuation. Johnlock is totally valid to me, and I can absolutely get behind it as one of my many ships!

DOCTOR JOHN WATSON

Bisexual, through and through, I fucking stand by this! I think he prefers women, but is in denial about his gay side. And I know that I am not the only one who believes that John is bi, though in my opinion he is still trying to process the fact that he likes both women and men. 

MYCROFT HOLMES

Queer, simply because he doesn’t like to use labels. I think he’s on the asexual spectrum like his brother, but is more open to having romantic relationships or sexual encounters than Sherlock is. Mycroft doesn’t really put limits on who he loves, he just does and that’s it, nothing more. 

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR GREG LESTRADE

Bisexual too, in my opinion, with no specific preference between male or female. Mystrade is my personal favourite Sherlockian ship in the fandom, and I could totally picture it happening. Lestrade was apart the community as a young punk in punk seventies London, and he still is even after cleaning up his life. 

MOLLY HOOPER

Closeted pansexual who prefers men or out of the binary individuals, but she won’t be fussy about who she loves. Sherlock knows Molly is LGBTQ+ but has kept his mouth shut out of the small ounce of love he holds for her. 

IRENE ADLER

LESBIAN and SAPIOSEXUAL in capital letters, everyone! Fly the sapphic flag, because Irene is as gay as you can get. People might question my reasoning due to the fact that in the show she is portrayed as being sexually/romantically attracted to Sherlock--but I think it was more of an intellectual lust rather than physical, if that makes any sense. 

MARY MORSTAN-WATSON

Bisexual, leaning towards women, I think. She was totally attracted to John and I will not hesitate to say that I ship them completely! They are perfect together, in my opinion. I like JohnLock too, but there is something about John x Mary that is very charming. But yes, Mary could be with a man or a woman, it doesn’t matter to her. 

PROFESSOR JAMES MORIARTY

Pansexual, and I won’t hear anything else! That was a joke, I respect all headcanons, y’all! I know pans when I see them, being pansexual myself, and he is pan in every single way possible! Moriarty has no limitations or constraints holding him back, and gender never mattered to him anyways. I will say that he’s defo aromantic, preferring a sexual relationship or platonic friendship instead of a marriage/dating scenario. HE IS MY PAN KING, THOUGH! 

MRS. HUDSON

A straight ally--she is super supportive of gay and transgender rights, and was one of the original JohnLock shippers too. To her, it isn’t wrong or strange to be LGBTQ+ at all. Mrs. Hudson is sympathetic, caring, and loving, there is not a homophobic or transphobic bone in her body!

[topsyturvy-turtely]

I posted 3,154 times in 2022

That's 3,090 more posts than 2021!

141 posts created (4%)

3,013 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@helloliriels

@loki-lock

@safedistancefrombeingsmart

@justanobsessedpan

@musingsofmyown

I tagged 2,195 of my posts in 2022

Only 30% of my posts had no tags

#johnlock - 611 posts

#bbc sherlock - 453 posts

#sherlock - 428 posts

#john watson - 366 posts

#sherlock holmes - 295 posts

#sherlock x john - 169 posts

#johnlock fanart - 151 posts

#martin freeman - 135 posts

#sherlock fanart - 135 posts

#benedict cumberbatch - 125 posts

Longest Tag: 121 characters

#am i funny? cringy? funny but in a cringe way? yeah probably funny cringy way... nah probably just cringy... in any case:

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

okay so we all want BBC SHERLOCK S5 right???

and imho it needs to involve:

- A JOHNLOCK KISS!!!! (one that ~actually~ happens irl and not just in the mind palace or the like...)

-HUDDERS NOT BEING DEAD (seriously she is the soul of johnlock and she deserves better than to die. let her go on vacation or something... saw that post a few days ago)

-AND HARRY WATSON PRETTY PLEASE!!! (in a happy way. where john and her rebuild their relationship. also... maaaayyybbee bcs i'm a tiny bit in love with her)

-MORE (happy!) JOHNLOCK

154 notes - Posted February 23, 2022

#4

how john watson found his heart again

[sequel to how john watson lost his heart ]

it's been two years since i've lost my heart.

two years of grief. two years of being lost. two years of darkness.

but it's okay, i've found her. she gave me a new heart.

it's not the same as my own but it does its job: it gave me life. it keeps me alive.

but suddenly you are back.

short version: not dead.

and you present me my long lost heart on a serving tray.

with your fake glasses, your fake mustache, your fake accent.

but my real heart.

right there in front of me.

abruptly i stand up. trying to hold back my anger.

alright. john. i'm suddenly realizing that i probably owe you some sort of an apology-

fist against the table.

two years.

keep it together, watson, i tell myself.

two years.

but how can i?

when the only reason to live is right there in front of me.

when the one reason i almost died myself was right there in front of me.

i thought-

not in the restaurant, watson.

i thought you were dead.

i died too that day. i have lost my heart that day. the day you died.

now you let me grieve...

i grieved for you, i grieved for my heart.

how could you do that?

HOW?!

See the full post

182 notes - Posted May 27, 2022

#3

"JOHNLOCKed in a Closet"

- now on Ao3!!!

[cover art by @topsyturvy-turtely DO NOT REPOST]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M, F/F

Fandom: Sherlock (TV)

Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson; Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade; Harry Watson/Original Female Character; Sherlock Holmes & Mrs. Hudson & John Watson; Harry Watson & John Watson; Sherlock Holmes & Greg Lestrade

Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Mrs. Hudson (Sherlock Holmes), Mycroft Holmes, Greg Lestrade, Harry Watson, Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: Fluff, Mrs. Hudson Ships It, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Johnlock - Freeform, Locked In, Trapped In A Closet, John is a Mess, John The Bisaster, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Harry the gay advisor, Confused John, Soft Sherlock, Sassy John, Shy Sherlock, References to Canon, Case Fic, okay mostly it's fluff but anygays..., STILL THERE IS A CASE

Summary: Mrs. Hudson is done. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson are just two silly little lovebirds who need to be locked together in a room until they can finally admit their feelings for each other! So this is EXACTLY what she does. And what room could be more fitting than a closet...?

Chapters: 15/15 (plus a dedication)

Originally published on Wattpad with the username "turtely". (21,6K views, 817 votes, 5K comments - status August 30th 2022)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40776522?view_full_work=true

204 notes - Posted August 4, 2022

#2

He really just needed a kiss...

John hated it. He utterly and truly hated it. He despised himself for it. It was going on his nerves. In fact it annoyed the fucking SHIT out of him.

That stupid, always present, torturing urge to be kissed.

It was plain out ridiculous. But he couldn't help it. He wanted- needed that kind of body contact. Where one was taller, the other smaller. Where one was the bold and made the decisive move. Where your heart stops and your breath catches and-

John put the tea pot down with too much force so the china chinked. He grabbed the newspaper off the table with an emphasis that really wasn't necessary and he walked over to his armchair with a frown on his face and heaviness in his steps.

He dropped into the chair and scowled at the news. He felt like a teenager, which dropped his mood even more.

"You're annoyed.", his flatmate Sherlock, eyes closed hands steepled under his chin, his legs half up half down, stated. And it made John even more grumpy. Because look at this arsehole! With his damn hair and annoying face and stupid athletic body he wouldn't struggle AT ALL finding someone to kiss him. Not that he would care for such mundane things.

"Yes.", there was no point in denying it, John decided but hid his face behind the newspaper again.

"Why?"

Behind the safety of the newspaper John rolled his eyes. "I just am."

Sherlock opened his eyes and leaned forward, "That's ridiculous every human emotion has its origin in a deeper-"

"Oh for fuck's sake. You of all people lecturing me about human emotions is really not a to-do-thing for today, okay?!"

Sherlock sat up and John - even behind the paper - felt his studying gaze on him and the irritation inside him flamed up even more. "Stop staring.", he grumbled

Sherlock tilted his head - eyes still fixed on his flatmate. He leaned forward, pushing the newspaper down and the sudden proximity made John uneasy.

"Ever heard of personal space?"

"Of course.", Sherlock said and invaded John's.

"Then why are you in mine?"

"Because you want it."

"I want- what?"

"You wanna be close to someone.", Sherlock said, both hands on either side of his armchair now.

"No", John awkwardly fixed his sitting position. "I think I am good. Go back to your seat, Sherlo-"

But then Sherlock's lips were on his and John froze. It was just a hint of a kiss. It was nothing really. He could back off and then they could just-

He put his hand on the back of Sherlock's neck and his hand barely touched his side. He hesitantly kissed him back and then Sherlock's lips pecked John's lightly. Sherlock opened his mouth and John sucked on the other man's lower lip. John (or more his libido) decided he'd go a bit further and used his teeth to tease. When Sherlock gasped, John pulled back quickly.

"Oh. Wow. I didn't- didn't expect to happen.", he said, Sherlock still hovering above him. His eyes were fluttering open and then stared into John's. There was something in his gaze that made John wanna hug him tight.

Sherlock straightened up and fixed his perfectly cuffed cuffs on his shirt. That heated look was completely gone. There was no evidence of what had just happened, except ,maybe, that John's trousers were a tad bit tighter than before.

Still uselessly fumbling with his cuffs (with elegant, slim fingers), Sherlock finally looked up. And with his look came a wall, being built brick by brick between them. "You needed stimulation. I gave you that. I hope you feel better now.", Sherlock said matter-of-factly, finally letting his cuffs alone, rolling his shoulders once. With four long strides he was at the hook with his belstaff, put it on with one swift movement and opened the door. "I'll be out. No need to wait up."

And John was being left behind. Completely stunned. He still felt lips on his own, still felt breath creeping over his jaw, still saw a heated look that John felt like had burnt him.

With a deep breath he heaved himself up, the newspaper forgotten on John's lap, flew to the floor. John needed tea. While the water boiled, John thought about what Sherlock had said. That he had offered him stimulation and that he hoped John felt better now. And he did, definitely, feel better but there was a tuck inside him that made him frown.

See the full post

256 notes - Posted August 22, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

sherlock: I KNOW!!!

john: you know what?

sherlock: i know what the H stands for!

john: *pinching the bridge of his nose* sherlock can you just dro-

sherlock: john hedgehog watson

john: ...

sherlock: ... :)

398 notes - Posted October 18, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[fangirlings-things]

Rescheduled Lesson

❦ PART. II

Fandom: Enola Holmes

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x female reader

Word count: 3K

anon said: Can I request a Sherlock x reader where she visited Enola often when Sherlock left on long cases, so they became good friends? And when Enola runs away to find her mom, she goes to stay with the reader, which Sherlock deduces and tries to get her to let him find Enola and talk to her? -&

A/N: this request was amazing and I loved every bit of it!!! I put all my inspiration in this, tried to make the personality of the character good, so I hope you like this piece, love, I did my best!! (also I’m thinking about a part 2? if you guys like it let me know, I would be delighted to write it) (had to repost guys, I'm sorry!!)

also, the tag list for this fandom is open!!!

gif credit: @henrycavilledits

❧ You knew the Holmes family was nothing like the other families that lived in the countryside. The father had died many years before. The two oldest sons had already left home, to live their lives and follow the careers they desired. On that incredibly big house, where once lived a family, there was only a mother and her youngest child left. Perhaps the fact that you yourself was considered a little off by other people, was the fact that made you become friends with them.

You lived completely alone, surrounded by books in a small house. Your life was made of studying, researching and writing texts about science. You loved it, great authors of the matter being your inspiration. You tried to learn their teachings and with luck, wanted others to learn as well. You almost couldn’t believe when one day in the middle of a sunny afternoon, Eudoria Holmes had showed up at your door and invited you to her house, where she asked you to be Enola’s science teacher. She educated her daughter not for society, but for herself, so that she could find her own path when she came to grow up. That instantly made you respect that woman and accept her offer.

Twice a week you would go to the Holmes’s house and spend hours and more hours teaching the girl. Darwin, Copernicus, Newton, Galilei. She was eager to know and you were eager to teach her. She was the first student you had that actually wanted to learn and that was amazing. Made you proud and happy, more than you could say. At the evening, Eudoria would ask you to stay for dinner. You would put lessons aside and talk and laugh together. They were like your family, the one you didn’t had.

You were always excited for the days of teaching Enola to come soon. They were your absolute favorites of the week. In the beginning of the afternoon of one of those days, you had been incredibly surprised by a knock on your front door while you gathered the books you would make the girl read and study. Frowning, because you never had visitors or received letters, you went to attend the door.

And when you opened it, you saw that your visitor was Enola herself.

“Hi, Miss (Y/L/N)” the girl smiled at you, a little forced smile that instantly made your frown grow deeper. She was wearing boy’s clothes, even a hat, and her long brown hair had been hidden inside of it. “I’m afraid today’s lesson will have to be rescheduled”

“Enola, what…” you began, confused. You had seen her dressed in boy’s clothes before around her house, that wasn’t a big deal. She did find them more comfortable, she had told you before. But the fact that she concealed her hair as if she wanted to hide it and the expression on her face, something that you couldn’t quite identify but resembled urgency, was enough for you to get anxious.

“Please, Miss (Y/L/N), can I come in? I promise I’ll explain everything you want to know” she pleaded, eyes locked on yours as she did so. The tone on her voice made you nod and take a step to the side, locking the door once she was already inside. “I had never been here. Your house is really amazing” the girl seemed overwhelmed by all the books and unfinished texts you had around, laying on tables and shelves.

“Thank you” you said, mind still running fast as you tried to understand what was happening. You walked after the girl, that had advanced until she reached the next room of your house, one who only had two couches and a table. “Enola, what is going on?” her face instantly lost the admiration she was having for your belongings. Her eyes went to the floor, and she went silent. That made you sight. “Enola, you promise you would explain. And you know you can trust me”

That seemed to make her come around, because she sighted as you had just did and sat at one of your couches. Or better, she laid down on it, placing her head over a pillow and focusing her eyes on the roof. Her hands were joined over her chest. “I came here because I wanted to hide, Miss (Y/L/N). I’m running away”

Your eyes went wide at that declaration and you sat on the other couch, realizing that would probably be a long conversation. “Enola! Think about your mother! She loves you. Your disappearance will hurt her deeply”

“No, no, I’m not running away from my mother. I’m running away to find her” the girl sat straight on the couch, eyes meeting yours again like they had before at the door. She could see the confusion in your eyes grow by each word she spoke. “My mother went missing a few days ago, Miss (Y/L/N). She didn’t say goodbye or said where she was going. She only left me clues, here and there that I’ll have to use to find her”

Worry got a hold of you, the same worry you had recognized on Enola’s eyes. Eudoria. Where would she have gone? Was she fine? Not knowing you realized, was terrible. As you thought about what Enola had just said, another question got to your mind. “If your mother is missing, who are you running away from, Enola?”

“My brothers. Sherlock and Mycroft. Well, especially Mycroft, because he wants to send me to a finishing school, that prepares young women for society” the clear disgust in her voice would have made you laugh if you weren’t so worried.

“Where will you go to find your mother, Enola? What plans do you have? Do you want me to go with you?” all questions left your mouth in such a rush, that it seemed like you had just spit out the words one after the other.

The young girl smiled kindly and got up, going to sit right next to you on the couch you were on. She grabbed your hands in hers gently and squeezed them tightly. “Thank you for offering to go with me, to support me, Miss (Y/L/N). Is more than my own brothers have done. But this is something I have to do alone, I have to be the one to find her and know why she left. And I think that the less you know, the better it will be”

Oh, that girl. You smiled while you looked at her. Eudoria had raised her to be a force of nature and had achieved that goal, brilliantly. You squeezed her hands back in affection. “When will you leave?”

“At sundown today” she said, so quickly that you realized she had already thought about everything. At least, on that phase of that 'plan' to find her dear mother. “Will walk to the train station, not the closest one but the next, and get on the first train in the morning tomorrow. In this way, I’m quite sure my brothers won’t be able to understand my intentions soon enough as to catch me”

“Very well” you passed your arms around her and hugged her tight, sighting. “Let’s get you some food for your journey, then. If you find Eudoria and she finds out I let you almost starve I’ll get in trouble”

Enola laughed as she hugged you back.

════ •⊰❂⊱• ═══════ •⊰❂⊱• ════

Enola had left at sundown of the previous day, just like she had said she would. Carrying nothing more than money her mother had left her, a bag of food you had given her and her favorite book of yours, Origin of Species, you had watched her walk away into the night alone, as her name backwards spelled.

You had spent the whole night incapable of sleeping, wondering if she was fine and if she hadn’t encountered any dangers as she travelled on foot. You worried so much but all you could do, was hope that she would stay safe and find her mother. Soon.

On the next day, you had spent the morning and the beginning of the afternoon distracted. Tried to complete some of your works, but couldn’t. Your mind would always go back to the gone girl and her well being.

You had frustratedly been trying to read the same page of one of your books for fifteen minutes, without being capable of keeping any attention on it, when for the second time in a long time, you heard knocks at the front door.

You got up instantly, leaving the book forgotten upon the closest table as you rushed to the door, already smiling at the thought at Enola had came around on her idea of going alone and was back to ask you to go with her.

When you opened the door though, you realized that it wasn’t Enola who had knocked. It had been a man. A man you had never seen before.

He was tall, it was the first thing you noticed. The fact that he had no beard, was the second. And then, details of him came rushing into your mind through your eyes. He had short, curly hair, bright eyes and memorable features. He wore a white shirt, a brown vest with small white details in it and a brown suit as well as trousers of the same color. No tie which was insula for men that well dressed.

“May I help you?” you frowned at him, holding the wooden door firmly with one of your hands. To receive the visit of men, had always made you nervous. You lived alone, after all, and the world was becoming a more violent place day by day.

“I hope so” he said, which such confidence on his voice that it actually made you raise your eyebrows at him. His eyes were fixed in you, analyzing your face with much intensity. Far more than you thought it would be appropriate. “I’m Sherlock Holmes. And I suppose you are Miss (Y/L/N), my sister’s science teacher”

You took a moment to watch him again, trying to put into your mind that the man in front of you was the Sherlock Holmes, the detective who was making a name on England, solving the most incredible and difficult cases on his own. After long seconds of silence where you only stared at each other, you cleaned your throat. “I am in fact Enola’s teacher, Mr. Holmes. How did you know?”

“I found her works, studies on great science authors. They all had writings on the borders where she constantly mentioned a desire to please and make a 'Miss (Y/L/N)' proud. It only took me a visit to one of the closest houses to ask who it was and get pointed in your house’s direction” he explained, in an impersonal tone quite fitting to a detective. He saw the incisive tone look you were giving him, filled with suspicion, and smiled slightly as he looked at his feet, before focusing his eyes back on yours. “I came here because Enola ran away from home, Miss (Y/L/N). And I think she would come here to see you if she needed help”

You sighted, looking into his eyes. You remembered Enola’s words, where she had told you Mycroft was the one who wanted to send her to a finishing school, the one who had made her run away. If that had been Mycroft Holmes at your door, you would have denied being her teacher or even knowing the girl, wanting to cut the conversation short. But that was Sherlock Holmes. Enola hadn’t expressed much anger towards him and honestly, he would for sure find out the truth on his own. He was the best detective there was in the nowadays. You tell him, would just spin faster the process and you would be able to send him away sooner.

“Come in, Mr. Holmes” you took a step aside, motioning for him to come in. He did, in slow calculated steps and once he was inside you closed the door, sighting. You expected him to say something, but he didn’t. Not at first. Instead he walked around just like Enola had done, eyes floating through the uncountable books you had, all in a complete mess over the tables, piles and more piles of them . “She was indeed here, your sister”

He turned his head to look at you, a genuine smile on his lips. “I was already certain of that” then he walked towards one of the tables, fingers running through one of works. The paper was a bit kneaded, but he didn’t seem to care. “The works you did with Enola, the amount of things she learned… they were quite impressive”

You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to contain your surprise to know you had impressed the most impressive man of all, Sherlock Holmes. You waited for him to speak again, but he didn’t, just kept on walking through the room and inspecting your things with his perceptive eyes. “I don’t know where she is, Mr. Holmes. She left many hours ago”

He placed his hands on the pockets of his trousers, turning completely to you the resemblance of his previous smile on his lips. “And I believe she didn’t tell you what were her plans?”

“No and if she had, I wouldn’t tell you” you said and went to sit on a chair, at the table he had been studying with his eyes previously.

“Mind if I take off my suit?” he asked simply. You just nodded for him to go on, not giving it much thought. He took off his brown suit in gracious movements, then placed it in one of the other empty chairs close by. “May I ask why you wouldn’t tell me my sister’s plans, Miss (Y/L/N), if you knew them?”

“Enola said your brother wants to send her to a finishing school” you replied, watching as one after the other, he folded the sleeves of his white shirt until they got close to his elbow. Unconsciously, you noticed how his muscles could be seen from under his shirt. “To try to turn such a brilliant, incredibly smart young girl into a 'lady society' would be a terrible mistake. She shouldn’t be forced to do it” at the end of that sentence, Sherlock Holmes had grabbed two books in his hands and after reading the tiles, he went to the shelves and started placing them there. “Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?”

“I am organizing your books, Miss (Y/L/N). In alphabetical order, of course. Like I’ve noticed you do after a quick inspection” he smiled at you again, placing those two in place. Then, he went to the table and grabbed a few more. “I personally agree with you. I don’t think Enola should be sent to such a place, but she is my brother’s ward. It is out of my hands” he read the titles, then turned around to return to the shelves. “I suppose you weren’t raised as a lady of society also, for you live by yourself apparently and your academic interests”

“You’re wrong” you said with a little smile taking a hold of your lips, and that made him stop organizing the books and look at you with a frown. She shouldn’t be wrong often. “I was raised to be a lady, until the point where my parents died. After that, I started to live on my own, for I had no more relatives. It gave me a chance to become who I wanted to be, instead of whom I was being carved into”

“You chose your own path” he said with a bigger smile this time and when you nodded in agreement, he returned his look at the shelves. “How did your parents die?”

“They were murdered” you tried to swallow the knot on your throat. Even though they had been controlling parents to the most when regarding your future, they were still your parents, and you loved and missed them. “The police never found out by whom”

“The police can be quite… inefficient” he turned back around with his hands already empty. “I’m really sorry”

“Thank you” you said, squeezing your lips in a thin line as old memories came to surface. Things you hadn’t you thought about in a long, long time. “If there isn’t anything else, may I escort you to the door?”

Your polite way of sending him away made him smile.

He placed the books he had just gathered back on the table, grabbed his suit and accompanied you towards the door, not bothering to dress the piece again. You opened the door and he stepped out, turning to look at you once more. His eyes were curious, interesting. Full of something you couldn’t quite identify, so mysterious as his sister’s.

“If you find Enola, don’t stop her from trying to find your mother” you told him, trying to repress the emotion in your voice. “Not knowing what happened… can be quite disturbing”

“I promise, stop her, is not my intention” he looked down at his feet once again, as if he was thinking for a brief moment, before his eyes went back to yours. “I could try to find out what happened to your parents. Who was their murderer”

“I don’t have much money, Mr. Holmes” you told him, your turn now to look down at your feet.

“I never said you would have to pay” he replied and with that your gaze snapped back up to meet his, and that made him chuckle. You couldn’t deny he looked quite beautiful when doing that. “You were there for my sister through much time and when she needed help, when I wasn’t. That is enough paying for me. Think about it, Miss (Y/L/N). After I find my sister and discover where is my mother, I am willing to take over your case. If you want me to” he nodded his head in your direction in a silent appreciation for your reception in your house and began to turn to walk away, but stopped himself in the middle of such movement. “May I know your first name?”

You smiled softly at that. “It’s (Y/N), Mr. Holmes”

“Please, call me Sherlock”

And after that, he walked away.

[zodiyack]

Promises

Requested by anon: Omg hi again may I request a Sherlock Holmes x reader were they get married and have kids! Thank you <3

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Female!Reader

Warnings: One smut-indication?, funny angst, fluffity fluff, no proof-reading

Words: 1,953

Summary: (See Request)

Note: I’m making this a continuation of Reminders if that’s ok with you-

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @thewarriorprincessxo, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @missihart23, @beckster07890, @maan24

Masterlist | Henry Cavill Masterlist

Tears were shed, laughs were scattered, cheers were shouted. Sherlock had made good on his promise and married the lovely beautiful artist. He couldn’t stray his eyes from hers the entire wedding. It was difficult to even form words with how breathtaking the angel in front of him looked. Did they really expect him to say vows with this gift from the heavens standing right before him?!

Although Sherlock found it hard, he managed to spit out the words that caught in his throat. You’d hardly be able to tell he was a nervous wreck; the loving words that should bind them in mere moments came from his lips like poetry.

As soon as they were wed, Sherlock was eager to have his wife to himself. The entire after-party, he sat beside her with his leg bouncing impatiently, and that night he’d made love to her more times than they’d ever done in a week. A new record. He made it known that his promise was good.

What was to come after, though, was surely to be expected.

“Rin, stop moving sweetie.” She begged calmly for what felt like the thousandth time. Her youngest daughter fidgeted in the chair. She looked like a baby-doll propped up in an adults’ chair with how small she was. Painting her children was not uncommon for Y/n. They loved to model for their mother but most of the time her children could just barely stay still.

Their oldest, Eddie, a nickname for Edward, was goofy and had a heart like his aunt’s, both Enola and Eddie more child-like than times would prefer. Second oldest, Will Claud, short for William Claud, was determined, like his father, but had a habit of over doing it. He was the strict and ...well, the nerd brother. Will Claud just wanted to impress his father and mother, but he seemed to listen to his uncle Mycroft too much.

Next born was Alice. She had her mother’s skill in art as well as her father’s skill in mystery. She and Will Claud were born not too long from each other, so it was no surprise that they were constantly wrestling for the spotlight. Alice didn’t try to outwit her brother as much as he did her, but she wasn’t new to winning.

Finally, the twins; Clayton and Catherine. Clayton was mischievous and didn’t hesitate to make it known, but Catherine, sitting in that chair across her mother as her soft skin is replicated by paint onto a canvas of color, was practically an angel.

While the other children would hurdle over each other to get to their father every time he stepped through the front doors, Cathy would wait beside her mother politely before walking to her father slowly. Her siblings would part, forming a walkway in the middle as if she were royalty.

So then the joke was made and the chair painting was currently underway. They had to find the right chair, and they did. It looked so elegant, so royally distinguished. It looked perfect. Fit for a queen.

And that was what the joke was. That Catherine was the “queen”. Not a very funny one without context, Cathy’s siblings later found out, but a good one to tease her with. However, queen Cathy didn’t mind it. In fact, she was quick to drop into character, the smoothest transition known to man-kind. 

While, yes, Catherine’s character was rather humorous, it still held some concerns. Would she become the lordly queen her siblings tried to paint her as? Would she ever realize it was all a joke her siblings made up? Growing up was never something she forced on her children, but she didn’t want to have them growing too used to a title like that. Y/n joked to her husband one night in bed as they held the sleeping majesty, whom had crawled into their bed without reason.

“I’m highly aware she’s ‘the queen’ and all, but I really hope she doesn’t decide she’d like to adopt the complete role. I wouldn’t be able to stand it if my baby became my nightmare. The other four are already so much work.” She chuckled as she brushed some of Catherine’s hair behind her ear.

Sherlock looked at his sleeping daughter. She looked so at peace, just as she always did, and he nodded yet noted his disagreement. “I doubt she’d ever become such a hassle. She’s been so patient and kind, I can’t see her actually devolving a bad side. Clayton, sure, but his sister?” Their eyes flicked up to meet each others. A beat later and they were in hushed snickers.

“Mummy?”

“Yes?”

“When will daddy be returning home?” She had relaxed her facial muscles, if only she’d done so with her limbs- make it easier for her mother, and held a casual tone of voice. Another thing with Catherine; she was harder to read than most.

“I’m not sure, my dear. He should be back before supper...” Y/n lifted her head to peak over the easel and watch her three older kids as they played with Clayton. He was a tough kid, but always overestimated how tough he really was. Y/n felt concern fill her gut when he first begged to play with his older siblings, but she let him anyways, Sherlock being the one to thank for that decision.

“Good. I want to sit next to him tonight. And you. I want to sit next to both of you, mummy.” She gave her mother a small smile, which she returned, before adjusting to her original pose.

Y/n paused after she finished the details involving the chair and Cathy. “Catherine, you do realize that I sit next to your father at dinner, right? And Eddie sits on his other side...that is, if Willy loses their fight tonight...I wonder why they don’t just take turns...” She muttered the last few sentences to herself in heavy contemplation.

“Mhm! You can sit next to him too!” The little girl watched her mother process her question with wide eyes of anticipation. She realized Y/n still didn’t quite understand and was quick to explain. “I can sit on your lap, mummy! Like when I was this big!” Catherine held up her hands to show an overexaggerated space between her small hands that supposedly represented her only one or two years ago.

“Well... Daddy and I can talk about it when he gets home. Is that alright with you?”

“Mhm! But I don’t want to crush the new me, so don’t be afraid to tell me no, mummy, okay?!” Her innocence was adorable, but not more than the grin that sat upon her lips.

Clayton rushed in, causing Y/n to instinctively reach for her easel protectively. He chortled to himself before announcing what was on his mind. “It’s not a new you, Cathy, it’s a new me! I’ll bet you on it, I’m shore I have the funs!”

“Clayton Luther Holmes!” Y/n’s eyes doubled in size. “Who taught you about betting?”

Her son ignored her question and continued, “Besides, what if I want to sit on mother’s lap?!”

“We can’t both sit on mummy- what about the baby?”

“Uhh, it can move, no doy?! It can move just like Will Claud tells me to. It doesn’t need to be shell-fish!” Clayton muttered bitterly. “If Will Claud really wants to call someone his funny names, he should call the baby them.” His time with the older kids was undoubtfully the reasoning behind the failed attempts of words he didn’t fully understand.

“Do you mean ‘selfish?’“

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Don’t you agree, mummy? See, she agrees!” Clayton tried to argue with his twin, but his words had no effect on her. Catherine stared at him blankly, confused like her mother.

“Mummy didn’t say anything, Clayton. She said we can talk about it when daddy gets home, so you can wait here with me.” She scooted over a bit in the chair and pat beside her. Clayton shot her a look of distaste and ran back out into the yard.

“That was...odd.” Y/n blinked. 

“He did remind me though, mummy... The baby can’t move... maybe I could sit with daddy instead?” Catherine sounded reassuring, her feathery voice calming her mother.

Which she really needed. She could hardly focus on her painting now. Her heart was begging for Sherlock to walk through the front doors already, spare her from another interruption that would throw her off-course for the fifth time that evening.

Like magic, her wish was granted and a knock sounded on the study door. Both Catherine and Y/n’s heads snapped toward Sherlock entering the room. “How’s her-majesty doing?” He smirked at Cathy as he set down his case. “I heard from two little competitive detectives that mummy is creating a masterpiece of her masterpiece! Are the rumors true?”

“That they are, detective. Seems you’ve found out the surprise before it could surprise you.” Catherine giggled as her father lifted her from the soft red chair and spun her around before planting a kiss on her forehead.

“So, my little queen, how are you?”

“Good.” She smiled brightly. “How are you? Did mummy ask you yet?”

Sherlock turned to face Y/n, who looked away as fast as she could- wide eyes and all. “Did mummy ask me what, Rin?”

“If I could sit with you or her during supper? I would sit on mummy’s lap, but I don’t want to hurt the baby, and even if I could, Clay wants to sit on her too. I don’t want to make it unfair!” Catherine frowned. “I told him he could wait with me until you were here to talk about it but he didn’t want to.”

“I’ll tell you what. Since mummy has the baby, you can sit with her and I’ll have Clayton sit with me.”

“Yeah! He moves around a lot and we want to be extra careful with mummy and mini-baby, right?” Sherlock nodded, Y/n still trying to figure out what her daughter was saying, and sent Cathy off to play with her siblings until Alice finished supper. It wasn’t intended for Y/n’s pregnancy, but it certainly helped. A system in which the kids could claim nights to help out with meals. Alice loved to make dinners while Edward loved to bake. The smell of a delicious homecooked meal was never lacking in the Holmes house.

“Hear that? Mini-baby gets to sit next to the queen tonight.”

“I’m jealous, quite frankly.” Sherlock’s grin never ceased to bring Y/n’s to her face. Though she was exhausted, her husband made her feel calm and peaceful. “So, our five little reminders never cease to remind you, do they?”

“No...and don’t forget the sixth, Mr. Holmes.”

“Believe me, I haven’t, Mrs. Holmes. I’m simply awaiting their arrival. Perhaps a few more before I needn’t anymore reminders?”

“Mayhaps...however- Let’s talk about it when I’m no longer expecting, please. I’m already resisting the urge to collapse.” Sherlock chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he watched his wife struggle to the doors before helping her. His arms scoop her up and carry her to their room. They passed the paintings that hung upon the walls, portraits of Sherlock, portraits of their children, a portrait by her mother in law of their wedding day. The wall was home to their present and past, providing room for their future as well.

They were in their room for only a few minutes before a loud chatter followed them. Both adults closed their eyes and prepared themselves for their little ones who would burst through their doors at any moment. His promise was good, and they had five, almost six, reminders to show for proof.

[my-head-is-an-animal]

The Sitter

Mycroft Holmes x Bethany Wheeler (OFC)

Story Masterlist

Chapter 15 - Gala

Mycroft spent the better part of the week avoiding Lady Smallwood and getting heavily distracted with his thoughts on Bethany. She had said yes in that many words, but had asked for the real reason why he asked her to the gala, he told her what he felt he could and explained that the Prime Minister disliked Lady Smallwood’s attempt at flirting with him. He’d been practically ordered to bring a date, but made sure she understood that she was under no obligation to do anything she didn’t want to. He promised to make it as entertaining as he could for her, by way of apology for dragging her along.

When the night finally came, Mycroft had been informed that her car had been sent and she was running late because she needed to go over to John’s to look after Rosie before he got home. She had a free afternoon and Rosie didn’t have a sitter for a couple of hours, she couldn’t say no and Mycroft, though slightly annoyed, couldn’t fault her for it.

‘I thought you said you were bringing a friend, Mr Holmes.’ The Prime Minister asked, almost mockingly. The other senior officials in the group were giggling a little, all of them suspected he was either gay or lying when he said he was bringing someone and it only served to annoy him.

‘Yes, I’m afraid she was kept working this evening, she’ll be along shortly.’ Mycroft smiled politely, keeping his patience.

‘Oh, I’m sure.’ Another of the officials was just outright making fun of him and he hated it, just the way he was looked down on for his lack of personal life.

I will apologise in advance; I think the anticipation at your arrival has exceeded that which even I am incapable of quietening. – MH

It’s fine, I knew what I was signing up for. I’m just getting in the car now and Andy said we’ll be about twenty minutes. Can you survive that long without me? Oh, and yes, I did bring a coat, so there will be no need for your casual annoyance at my usual dress code. – BW

Andy? – MH

Driver! – BW

Mycroft put his phone away and begun talking to a young man who worked in the defence department. Mycroft didn’t care much for the position he held, but judging from his constant wandering eyes, he wouldn’t last long. Any time any woman of any level of attractiveness walked by, he practically drooled over Mycroft’s shoes.

‘What about you Mr Holmes?’ He said, in a rather laddy way. ‘Any one here take your fancy? I’ll let you have first pick.’

‘That would imply that you are capable of bedding any single woman here.’ Mycroft pretended to be slightly oblivious.

‘It doesn’t take much, you know, a lot of women are pretty much up for whatever.’ He laughed, downing the rest of his champagne.

‘I see and is that a common requirement you have of the women you pursue?’

‘You what?’ He frowned, probably not understanding the question. ‘Look, I’m just looking for a pretty bird and a good shag. Don’t want to end up like you.’

‘Is that supposed to be an insult?’ Mycroft feigned annoyance.

‘Sir,’ one of the waiters had approached him, thankfully. ‘Miss Wheeler’s car has just pulled up.’

‘Thank you, I’ll be right there.’ Mycroft gave a polite nod. He felt slightly giddy. ‘Can I trust you not to make a scene while I collect Miss Wheeler?’

‘Who’s Miss Wheeler?’

‘If you don’t know, you’re not paying close enough attention.’ Mycroft said and left the young man as confused as before.

He strode a little quickly down to the main entrance where Bethany was being escorted by the driver who he imagined was Andy, she looked a little nervous, but that wasn’t what caught his eye.

Bethany allowed Andy to take her coat, revealing an ankle length navy dress, long-sleeved, with a simple flowered pattern sewn into the whole dress, making her look slender and elegant. It had a conservative v-neck, elongating her neck and the necklace she always wore, the one he gave her for Christmas, draped around her collarbone. She had elected to wear just a little more make up than usual, enough to highlight her pretty features and soften her dark eyes, even her hair was pinned up, it still had the slightly wild frizz that he associated with her, but she was making the effort to blend in.

‘Thank you.’ She said to Andy, he gestured to where Mycroft was standing just a few feet away. ‘Mycroft, thank god, I’m so sorry I’m late.’ She took a couple of steps towards him and the smell of ginger inflated his lungs. ‘Do I look okay? I wasn’t exactly sure, but I sent a picture to Anthea and she thought it was fine, so I just trusted her judgement. The last thing I want is to embarrass you.’

‘You couldn’t.’ Mycroft said, just a little too quickly. He cleared his throat and smiled. ‘What I mean is, you look lovely and no one will think otherwise.’

Bethany’s smile suddenly turned into a Cheshire grin and Mycroft was playfully wary of it. ‘I knew this day would come. You telling me I look lovely. How does it feel, complementing a known anarchist?’

Mycroft was thrown back to one of the first conversations they’d had at John and Mary’s wedding, where he’d gone to the special effort to not tell her in case he showed his hand.

‘I believe the score is now two nil in your favour.’ Mycroft offered his arm, which she took gratefully.

‘The rebels always win, Mycroft.’ She teased.

‘Indeed. Do you have your phone?’

‘Yeah, why?’

Mycroft smiled and held out his hand, she knew where he was going with this and handed it over for him to carry.

‘If there’s an emergency with Rosie, I will of course surrender the phone, but until that happens, we have a deal.’ He reminded her and guided her back to the gala. ‘Now, as I remember, I promised to make this as entertaining as I could.’

‘That you did.’

‘Well, there is a young man I was just speaking to who seems to think he can get any woman he chooses because they’re all “up for whatever”. I imagine he’ll need taking down a peg or two and I thought I’d save him for you.’

‘Very kind of you, Mr Holmes.’ Bethany chuckled. ‘What would you require in return for the privilege?’

‘First one’s on the house, Miss Wheeler.’ He said, in a lower tone than he’d used before. It had just a small effect on her and managed to keep her focus firmly placed on him. ‘Apologies, Mr Joiner,’ he said, approaching the young man he’d been speaking to previously. It seemed Bethany’s appearance had taken all of his attention and he looked hungrily at her. ‘What was it we were talking about before I so rudely left the conversation?’

Mycroft managed to catch the attention of a waiter and took two glasses of champagne from his tray, handing one to Bethany, standing just behind her in a slightly protective way.

‘Hi there,’ he said, and Mycroft felt Bethany leaning back, clearly she’d smelt his breath, but Mycroft didn’t move, letting her know she was safe with him, he wouldn’t let any harm come to her. ‘Sorry, didn’t catch your name, I’m Ben, Ben Joiner.’

‘Bethany Wheeler.’ She said, politely shaking his hand. ‘And what is it you do, Mr Joiner?’

‘Defence.’ He was trying to be suave and it made Mycroft’s stomach churn, but Bethany wasn’t having any of it. ‘It’s a tough job, but someone’s got to do it.’

‘Mm, I can imagine.’

‘What about you? Gorgeous girl like yourself? Let me guess, some kind of model? You been in Milan recently?’

Mycroft was only sipping his champagne to stop himself throwing up. Bethany took a deep breath and Mycroft felt his excitement rise, this was what he’d been waiting for all night.

‘No, I have been in Peru though.’

‘Peru?’

‘Yes, visiting my parents who are currently trying to solve the oil crisis there, you know the one where tonnes of oil has leaked into the river and has started poisoning the nearby wildlife and people. My father is building a new type of extraction machine to help get the oil out of the water before it does any more damage, and my mother is single-handedly running the nearby hospitals. I was just there on holiday really, but I did manage to solve the chemical equations that were giving them so much trouble in the first place. It shortened the timescale they’d set themselves for solving the crisis by several months and potentially saved thousands of lives. It was a tough job, but someone had to do it.’ Bethany shrugged and took a sip of champagne, while Mr Joiner just stared at her.

‘Right, well,’ he stammered. ‘That was good of you.’

‘No, that was easy, anyone could have done it, even you.’

‘Well, maybe you’re selling yourself a little short-‘

‘That does seem to be a common complaint people have.’ Bethany feigned wonder. ‘Even Mr Holmes has mentioned it on occasion.’

It seemed to be at that moment, Mr Joiner had notice that Mycroft was even standing there.

‘Yes,’ he cut in, standing a little more to the side and placing his hand quite obviously on her lower back. ‘I forgot to mention to Miss Wheeler that your department appreciated the Baskerville paper I sent over.’

‘You wrote that?’ Mr Joiner suddenly looked rather embarrassed, and Bethany’s eyes narrowed in on why, this was pure entertainment as far as Mycroft was concerned.

‘I did.’ She said with a wicked smile. ‘I heard it was being actioned, finally, but I do hope that whoever is in charge of the security at Baskerville doesn’t find out that their security was hole-picked by an overactive fourteen-year-old child. I would have gotten around to part two through ten, but as I remember it, I was studying for my GCSEs at the time and a piano exam.’

‘Right.’ Mr Joiner was suddenly very nervous and was almost shaking. ‘Well, if you’ll excuse me.’

‘Of course, lovely chatting.’ Bethany smiled her signature, bright smile as the gross young man scuttled away. She turned to Mycroft and sipped her champagne, glancing around the room. ‘Boom,’ she whispered. ‘That’s how to start an evening at a posh party.’

‘Indeed. I believe he was trembling as he rushed away.’

‘Probably.’ She sighed.

‘What is it? You didn’t enjoy that?’

Bethany looked up at him and there was a new expression he didn’t recognise. ‘Guys like him are a dime a dozen, they’re sleazy and gross and there’s a whole house of them living down my road. I like winning those small battles, but it just reminds me of a bigger war going on.’

Mycroft shifted a little. ‘I already told you that I could deal with them, if that’s what you wanted. You only have to ask.’

Bethany looked as if she was about to say something, when suddenly the Prime Minister herself bustled over.

‘Mycroft Holmes!’ She cheered, clearly having drunk too much already.

‘Prime Minister.’ Mycroft nodded, curtly.

‘Please do introduce us to the lovely young lady you’ve brought with you tonight.’

Mycroft was suddenly aware that he had more than the Prime Minister’s attention and that several people around them were listening in, this wasn’t what he wanted for Bethany.

‘Of course, this is Miss Bethany Wheeler,’ he said, placing his hand a little more firmly on her lower back, making sure she knew she was okay. ‘Miss Wheeler, I’m sure the Prime Minister of Great Britain and Northern Ireland needs no introduction.’

Mycroft caught something in Bethany’s expression that he almost missed, it was something of a challenging nature, one that he became wary of immediately.

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bethany.’ The Prime Minister shook Bethany’s hand.

‘And you.’ It was short and curt, to the point and Mycroft didn’t like it.

‘So, do tell us how Mycroft managed to rope you into this.’ She said, and suddenly they were being ushered into the previous group of officials that Mycroft had been previously mocked by. He kept Bethany well within his grasp, tucked under his arm.

‘Phone call out the blue,’ Bethany charmed. ‘He asked, I was free and said yes, no real rope involved I’m afraid.’

‘Oh, I see,’ the minister for defence himself piped up, again looking a little hungrily at Bethany. ‘We always suspected Mycroft had a secret girlfriend or boyfriend stowed away somewhere, why he kept you quiet, I have no idea. Mycroft you should have shown her off sooner.’

Mycroft felt his hand pressing harder into her back and took a breath to cool himself.

‘Really?’ Bethany looked almost genuinely shocked. ‘I didn’t know he had a secret girlfriend. God, Mycroft we really do need to catch up at some point. Every time I’m away there’s always something new going on, honestly it’s a wonder anyone can keep up.’

‘Oh right,’ the minister was taking back his words. ‘So, you two aren’t erm…?’

‘What?’

‘Well, you know… together?’

‘What do you mean?’ Bethany knew perfectly well what he was asking, but she was doing a very good job of pretending she didn’t.

‘Well, when we heard Mycroft was bringing a woman to the party, we assumed-‘

‘Bold of you to assume I have any time for a personal life, Mr… erm?’ Bethany feigned not knowing his name.

‘Call me Simon.’

‘Simon. Well, I’m sure it’s a pleasure to meet you.’

Mycroft had to stop himself laughing, the Prime Minister was giving him a warning glare.

‘Perhaps we stop making the minister’s life difficult now, Miss Wheeler?’ Mycroft playfully steered the conversation away from Bethany’s pricklier side.

They managed to start up another conversation with some other minister and did the rounds fairly quickly, Bethany was good at making small talk and had an extraordinary sense for extracting partial pieces of information that Mycroft would find useful in various upcoming meetings. How she was doing it was beyond him, but he was grateful she was on his side.

On occasion, he would check in and ask if she was alright. She was surprised at first, but her dark eyes softened and warmed to him and she soon begun letting slip a little more honesty.

‘It’s overwhelming,’ she chuckled, her arm around his waist while they moved onto the next conversation. ‘But I’m okay.’

‘Maybe some air would help?’ Mycroft gently guided her outside to where the air was significantly cooler and Bethany looked instantly more relaxed. ‘There we are, all you needed was a little room to breathe.’ He smiled, taking her to the balcony that looked out at the city.

‘How can you stand it?’ She asked.

‘What?’

‘The game they play, it’s not even fun, it’s just exhausting and seemingly pointless.’

Mycroft bowed his head a little bashfully. ‘What you’ve witnessed tonight is training of sorts, we use galas and gatherings for all sorts of things, but primarily, we play a smaller scale game of one played when running the country. It’s not about beating each other; it’s about holding each other accountable and testing weaknesses in your teammates.’

‘How does that work?’ Bethany frowned, shaking her head.

‘For example, my test tonight was to rise to the challenge the PM set me earlier in the week,’ Mycroft shoved his hands in his pockets and looked out at the view as well. ‘She wasn’t really asking me to bring a date because she was worried about Lady Smallwood, what she was asking of me is if I can be relied upon to follow through on instruction and separate myself from toxic situations with as little fuss as possible.’

Bethany nodded. ‘And did you?’

Mycroft chuckled. ‘No. I think more fuss was created in my turning up with a very attractive young woman than I anticipated.’

‘Three nil.’ She smiled.

‘Excuse me?’

‘You complimented me again, I’m taking a point for that.’

‘I see. When do I start winning this game?’ Mycroft teased, half playfully, half meaning it.

‘When you start telling me what you want and working a bit harder for it.’

‘What I want.’ Mycroft mused. It was a big question and one he couldn’t find a concise answer to. He definitely didn’t want to tell her standing on the balcony of a gala he’d forced her to.

‘Look,’ she said, stepping closer so no one overheard. ‘I don’t know what it is you really want from me and I’m not going to force you to tell me, ever. But there will come a time where you may need to start figuring it out. I like having fun with you, going to dinner, texting, even coming to some fancy gala has it’s perks, thank you again for re-enforcing my position with Dr Mathieson.’

‘You’re welcome.’ Mycroft nodded, wanting her to get back to the point.

‘I just don’t want either of us to be disappointed by expectation.’ Bethany’s dark eyes found his and that same warmth he felt when she was around was firmly placed in the pit of his stomach. ‘I’m on your side, Mycroft. You’ve been nothing but kind to me even though you didn’t have to be. And I never did thank you for looking after me that night at the aquarium.’ Mycroft suddenly looked down at his shoes. ‘I knew you didn’t stay with me all through the night and I know you were well out of your comfort zone… but I also know you did your best and that was enough for me. So, thank you.’

‘Of course.’ Mycroft didn’t know what else to say and it only made her half laugh, smiling widely and gently biting her bottom lip before quickly releasing it.

‘Come on,’ she said. ‘We’re a waste of brain power out here, I think the PM has had one too many and wants to question you about how you managed to land a hot young thing like me.’

Mycroft was glad she was back to the teasing and the playful nature of her personality, but he did not want to be put under the spotlight with the PM. As it turned out, he didn’t have a choice and Bethany gently dragged him into conversation. The only saving grace was his phone vibrating, he quickly looked down and saw he was needed in the surveillance room.

‘If you’ll excuse me a moment.’ He said, checking with Bethany more than the Prime Minister.

‘Go, I’ll be fine.’ Bethany said and he trusted that she would be.

Mycroft made his way out of the main gala room praying he wasn’t gone long.

‘For God’s sake, I was talking to the Prime Minister.’ He said to an aide he recognised from the surveillance team.

‘I’m sorry Mr Holmes, it’s your brother.’ The young man stumbled to explain. ‘He’s left his flat.

‘What is on fire?’ Mycroft asked, knowing this was a good excuse to get away from the gala, but worrying that he couldn’t just leave Bethany in the hands of the Prime Minister.

‘Nothing, sir.’ He stammered. ‘But he is acting strangely.’

Mycroft rolled his eyes and sighed. ‘I will need a security pass for Miss Bethany Wheeler, ensure it is in my hands before we arrive.’

Mycroft headed back into the main room and quickly moved to find Bethany who was still in conversation with the Prime Minister.

‘Apologies, Prime Minister.’ Mycroft smiled politely, gently guiding Bethany towards him, indicating they were leaving. ‘You’ll have to excuse Miss Wheeler and I; we have some urgent business to discuss.’

‘Oh Mycroft, work can wait.’ The PM moaned, clearly having drunk far more than she should have done.

‘No, I don’t think it can.’ Bethany was watching him like a hawk and managed to work out that this really wasn’t something that could be put off. ‘I’m sure we’ll meet again soon Prime Minister.’

Bethany nodded curtly and almost dragged Mycroft with her. ‘Is this Sherlock or Rosie?’ She asked on the way out.

‘Sherlock.’ He sighed. ‘He’s left his flat.’

Mycroft gestured for Andy to get the car ready at they entered the reception and he stopped by the cloakroom to get her coat, handing her phone back to her in the process. He tried several times to call John, but he wasn’t picking up.

Once they arrived, the aide Mycroft had sent to get Bethany’s pass was waiting.

‘Sir, we just need to add a photograph-‘

Mycroft held his hand up, knowing what was coming. ‘You can’t get into the security room without a pass.’ He explained to Bethany. ‘Please ensure Miss Wheeler finds her way up once you’re finished here.’

He smiled at Bethany before striding away, knowing she’d be fine, and heading up to where Lady Smallwood was watching in the surveillance room. He was unimpressed to say the least, something about feeling a sense of loss, something about Bethany not being with him. He tried phoning John again.

‘We can keep tabs.’ Lady Smallwood said as Mycroft entered the room. ‘You didn’t need to come in.’

‘I was talking to the Prime Minister.’ He said, annoyed.

‘Oh, I see.’ Lady Smallwood knew exactly why he decided to come in.

‘What’s he doing? Why is he just wandering about like a fool?’ Mycroft frowned at the screen.

‘She died, Mycroft. He’s probably still in shock.’

‘Everybody dies. It’s the one thing human beings can relied upon to do. How can it still come as a shock to people?’ Mycroft suddenly thanked his lucky stars that Bethany wasn’t there to hear him say that. Mary was her friend too.

‘You sound cross.’ Lady Smallwood turned to face him. ‘Am I going to be taken away by security again?’

‘I have, I think, apologise extensively.’

‘You haven’t made it up to me.’

‘And how am I supposed to do that?’

‘Mr Holmes.’ Thankfully the conversation was interrupted by the aide. ‘It’s Miss Wheeler.’

‘Show her in.’ Mycroft nodded.

‘We’re just letting civilians in here now are we?’ Lady Smallwood said, now she sounded cross.

‘She has clearance,’ Mycroft sighed. ‘You think I was going to let the Colbeck’s daughter remain in conversation with the PM.’

Even she couldn’t deny the logic in that. Mycroft turned to see Bethany, scanning the room quickly while she walked towards him. The way she always did that had the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, she was so incredibly perceptive, it almost scared him. Almost.

‘John isn’t answering his phone.’ He told her.

Bethany took her phone out and handed it to him. ‘He might answer if it’s me.’ She said. Mycroft hated to admit she might have been right, but the logic was sound.

‘Nice to see you again Miss Wheeler.’ Lady Smallwood interrupted. Mycroft tried with his own phone again, not wanting to admit defeat.

‘You too, Lady Smallwood, hope you’ve been keeping well.’

‘Yes.’ Mycroft knew that tone and shot a warning glare at Lady Smallwood. ‘I heard you suffered a snake bite in Peru.’

‘Two actually,’ Bethany corrected her with the same tone as Lady Smallwood’s. ‘Only one was venomous though.’

‘Bethany.’ He warned, no amount of glaring was going to calm her, a verbal warning was what seemed to work best.

‘What’s Sherlock doing?’ She asked.

‘Nothing, he’s just wandering around.’ Mycroft gestured to the screen. Bethany took one look and a small smile appeared at the corner of her mouth. ‘What is it?’

‘You’ll see.’ She said, keeping her eyes fixed on the screen. Lady Smallwood looked at Mycroft in questioning, but he didn’t have an answer.

Suddenly the room started giggling as they saw it too.

‘What is it? What now?’ Mycroft asked anyone who would give him an answering. John still wasn’t answering, he would need to give in and use Bethany’s phone.

‘Sorry,’ one of the technicians answered his question. ‘Erm, traced his route on the map.’

Mycroft sighed, seeing that Sherlock had spelt out “fuck off”. It only served to exasperate him further. Bethany was trying not to laugh and it was the only thing keeping him calm.

‘Is he with someone?’ Mycroft asked, trying to refocus.

‘Not sure, we keep losing visual. Mostly we’re tracking his phone.’

‘Looks like he might be though.’ Bethany leaned in. ‘Well, at least, it looks like he’s talking to someone, whether there’s someone there or not is another matter.’

‘I’m trying to sleep; can you stop ringing my damn phone.’ John finally answered.

‘Sherlock has left his flat for the first time in months.’ Mycroft said, getting to the point and being mildly annoyed that it was the first dial on Bethany’s phone that caused him to actually answer. ‘I’m having him tracked.’

‘Nice.’ John half laughed, mocking. ‘That’s very touching how you can hijack the machinery of the state to look after your own family. Can I go to sleep now?’

‘Sherlock gone rogue is a legitimate security concern,’ Mycroft snapped. ‘The fact that I’m his brother changes absolutely nothing, it didn’t the last time and I can assure you it won’t with… with Sherlock.’ Mycroft caught the frowning expression of Bethany. Lady Smallwood was also giving him an odd look.

‘Sorry, what?’ John was now curious. Mycroft had said far too much and the only thing he could think of was Bethany. He needed to be grounded again and somehow she was the answer.

‘Please phone me if he gets in contact. Thank you.’ Mycroft said, hanging up. He took a breath and handed Bethany’s phone back to her. She could sense that Lady Smallwood had something she wanted to say and made herself scarce, still watching Sherlock, but his eyes never left her.

‘Do you still speak to Sherrinford?’ Lady Smallwood asked, quietly.

‘I get regular updates.’ He nodded.

‘And?’

‘Sherrinford is secure.’ Mycroft said, firmly.

It was clear that Lady Smallwood was more than capable of keeping tabs on Sherlock and it was only frustrating Mycroft to be in the same room as her. He approached Bethany and silently told her they were leaving.

Bethany cleared her throat. ‘Good luck with the baby,’ she turned to the technician who was controlling the drone. ‘Hope it all goes smoothly for you.’

‘Thanks, Beth.’ He smiled and Mycroft just frowned as they left the surveillance room.

‘What baby?’ Mycroft asked as they made their way down the corridor.

‘Jack’s having a baby,’ she explained casually. ‘His wife’s due in six weeks, they’re having a boy.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Because I asked him Mycroft.’ She chuckled, weakly. ‘That’s how you get to know people, you talk to them, take an interest.’

Mycroft stopped and just looked at her. ‘What you heard in there, Sherrinford-‘

‘Before you go any further,’ Bethany stopped him, taking a step closer. ‘I’ve heard of Sherrinford, thought it wasn’t a real place at first, but let me make one thing clear. You don’t have to tell me a damn thing if you don’t want to, you’re not under any obligation to talk to me about anything.’

Mycroft took a deep breath, feeling somewhat relieved. ‘It’s safer if you don’t know.’

‘It’s funny how often that’s said right before something terrible happens.’ Bethany looked up at him and her dark eyes absorbed him for a moment. He wanted to kiss her, he was desperate to hold her, but she would never want him to touch her if he was keeping secrets like these from her. ‘Can I assume this night has come to an end?’

Mycroft gave a quick meaningless smile. ‘I think it’s best I drop you home.’

In reality, taking Bethany home was the last thing he wanted to do, but it was for the best. He’d had a wonderful night, pretending to be hers for moments, watching the way she worked a room with incredible ease and precision. She was a beauty for the ages and Mycroft would never see another one like her, certainly not in his life time.

‘Mycroft?’

He was suddenly snapped out of his daze by her voice, they’d arrived outside her house and he’d been idly tracing over her hand the entire way, committing it to memory. He looked over and saw her eyes were just about black, it could well have been arousal, but equally it could have been the darkness and the streetlights barely enough for her to see anything properly.

‘Are you going to let me get out? Or are we going to stay here all night?’ Bethany smiled and Mycroft felt his heart thumping a little faster.

‘Given the choice?’ He smiled, knowing exactly what he wanted.

‘Yes?’

Mycroft slid his hand beneath hers and slowly intertwined their fingers, her hand just seemed to fit with his perfectly and he didn’t want to let go. He ran his other hand over the top, feeling every single part of the back of her hand, again burning the sensation into his mind. This was the grounding he needed, he needed her to simply exist with him and everything would be okay.

‘Thank you for coming tonight.’ He said, looking up at her again and seeing that her eyes had been closed, absorbing the feel of him, she was stunning.

Bethany cleared her throat. ‘That’s okay. Any time.’ She smiled and Mycroft was done resisting.

His eyes landed on her mouth and he instantly leaned over, sliding his hand across her jaw and into her soft hair, inhaling the ginger that gave him so much pleasure. Her lips were soft and giving and Mycroft was desperate to feel her, even just for a moment. She responded in kind and he felt the weight of her palm against his chest. Surely the pounding of his heartbeat was penetrating through, it was beating so hard against his ribcage, she had to have felt it.

It was a moment that Mycroft wished wouldn’t end, but eventually it was obvious that they couldn’t stay kissing in the back of a car forever. He pulled away slowly, still feeling her breath shallow against his mouth, her lips were a little swollen and he hadn’t mean to be so desperate with her.

Bethany soon smiled and gave him her signature soft kiss before pulling back to look at him. ‘Given the choice.’ She repeated, understanding the position he found himself in and understanding why he couldn’t go any further that night. ‘I’ll drop in on Sherlock any chance I get, text you updates if I can.’

‘Thank you.’ Mycroft whispered, having lost his voice.

‘Call me if you need anything.’ She said and soon stepped out of the car, leaving Mycroft alone and frustrated.

Why was none of this simple?

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[possiblyimbiassed]

“E” as in Eurus, Enola and Estate

In June this year the Conan Doyle Estate Ltd filed a lawsuit against an impending Holmes adaptation movie on Netflix (article from RadioTimes here: X). 

Sherlock, Mycroft and Enola, starring Henry Cavill, Sam Claflin and Millie Bobby Brown.

This post about it by @tendergingergirl (X) seems to have gone largely unnoticed, but I think it deserves far more attention. In fact, it got me thinking “What’s all this actually about?” and looking a few things up.

My curiosity about the doings of this Estate began in December last year, before the release of BBC Dracula in January, when an interesting discussion initiated after an excellent meta by @yeah-oh-shit (X), who had made some investigations into previous copyright and public domain issues and lawsuits, which I had never known about before. 

And now it turns out that the Conan Doyle Estate Ltd (from here on I’ll call them ‘ACD Estate’) is suing the film makers, along with Nancy Springer, author of a book series based on characters from the Holmes universe called The Enola Holmes Mysteries (2006-2010), for copyright infringement. 

But I thought most of ACD’s Sherlock Holmes stories are now in public domain, including the Illustrious Client, the Sussex Vampire and the Three Garridebs, whose copyright under US law expired last year (2019)? Well, yes, but that’s still not all of them, and according to ACD Estate “for those of the stories whose copyright terms have ended, this action is brought within the three-year limitations period for infringement.”

More under the cut.

So, the ACD Estate’s copyright, they claim, still includes the following ten stories collected in The Casebook of Sherlock Holmes:

The Creeping Man (1923)

The Illustrious Client (1924) 

The Three Garridebs (1924) 

The Sussex Vampire (1924) 

The Retired Colourman (1926) 

The Lion’s Mane (1926)

The Three Gables (1926) 

The Blanched Soldier (1926) 

Shoscombe Old Place (1927) 

The Veiled Lodger (1927)

The whole lawsuit can be downloaded as a PDF file from this news article (X), and it’s quite an interesting read.

Claims about Sherlock Holmes’ emotions

So, since this is not the first lawsuit from the ACD Estate about adaptations, what’s their beef with the film makers this time? As far as I can see from their claims, this is about Sherlock Holmes’ emotions. 

This is how the ACD Estate reads Holmes’ character development in the lawsuit: “Conan Doyle made the surprising artistic decision to have his most famous character—known around the world as a brain without a heart—develop into a character with a heart. Holmes became warmer. He became capable of friendship. He could express emotion. He began to respect women. His relationship to Watson changed from that of a master and assistant to one of genuine friendship. Watson became more than just a tool for Holmes to use. He became a partner.” 

They even quote the famous passage in The Three Garridebs (3GAR, 1924) where Watson says: “It was worth a wound—it was worth many wounds—to know the depth of loyalty and love which lay behind that cold mask.”

But all this progress, they claim, specifically happened within these ten still (allegedly) copyrighted stories, which Conan Doyle wrote after World War One, where he had the traumatic experience of losing both his son and his brother.

They claim that Holmes’ emotional development is still under their copyright (which I believe in practise means their power to decide whether to allow a film adaptation or not) and apart from the emotions issue, they also provide the following other examples of developments that are (supposedly) unique to these ten still copyrighted stories:

Holmes employs a knowledge of medicine in Watson’s absence

Holmes and Watson use modern technologies in detective work for the first time 

Watson marries a second time during his association with Holmes (BLAN)

Holmes changes into someone who has great interest in dogs

Sherlock’s “secret sister”

The Enola Holmes Mysteries got me interested, and now I’ve read the two first of six instalments in total. The series is about Sherlock’s and Mycroft’s younger sister Enola, a clever teenager whom the brothers – in particular Mycroft - want to send away to a boarding school after their mother has disappeared and abandoned her. But Enola hates the idea of being confined to a place where she will be forced to wear a corset and restricted to a certain (‘female’) behaviour at all times. She escapes to London, where she starts a secret private detective career specialising in investigations of missing persons. Enola must keep ahead of her brothers who are determined to capture and force her to conform to Victorian society’s expectations for young women. She skilfully uses different disguises, just like Sherlock, and she meets John Watson pretending to be someone else. With her cleverness she manages to outwit even Sherlock. She is good at drawing and uses her sketches in her work. She manages to communicate with her mother (and eventually also with Sherlock) by using ciphers.

All of this does seem to have certain similarities with how Eurus Holmes is described in S4, doesn’t it?

Eurus is, like Enola, the secret Holmes sister whom we never have heard of before.

In TFP Mycroft claims Eurus’ intellect was superior to both Sherlock’s and his own; she was “incandescent”.

We see little Eurus draw sketches of her family members (not very pleasant sketches when it comes to Sherlock, though).

Mycroft made sure Eurus was sent away to an isolated prison/institution (Sherrinford) at an early age.

Their parents seemed absent and not particularly interested in the whereabouts of their own daughter (they didn’t even know she was alive); they let Mycroft and ‘Uncle Rudy’ take care of things, so one could easily suspect she was abandoned.

Eurus seems to have escaped to London at her own leisure, while Mycroft thought she was incarcerated.

Eurus appears in London under three different disguises: “E” (flirting and texting with John), 

“Faith” (walking the streets of London with Sherlock) 

and John’s new therapist. 

Eurus makes riddles with codes for Sherlock to decipher (“The cipher was the song”).

So, one might wonder if the Eurus plot is – at least to some degree – inspired by Enola Holmes? On the other hand, while Eurus appears cold and calculating, Enola is compassionate and sensitive and makes mistakes because of emotional bias. Enola seems more similar to Eurus’ disguised personas than to the supposedly ‘real’ Eurus - the one who burned the family estate down and killed Victor Trevor. 

I still believe that Eurus only exists inside Sherlock’s head in BBC Sherlock, being a part of himself, but that’s for another discussion.

As for the Holmes siblings, it’s also interesting that on the ACD Estate’s website, where they have a collection of ’facts’ about ACD’s characters, they seem to have included BBC Sherlock’s Eurus as a valid sibling of Sherlock and Mycroft (scroll down to “Holmes facts” on this page: X), even though this character is nowhere to be found in canon. Please correct me if I’m wrong about this, but the only reference I can find to ”the East Wind” in ACD’s stories is in His Last Bow (LAST, 1917), where Holmes says that ”There’s an east wind coming, Watson”, and goes on to talk about a cold, bitter wind that is threatening England; most probably a reference to WWI, which was raging at the time of publication. No one with the name Eurus is ever mentioned, though. If Eurus had already been part of canon, why would Mofftiss have claimed her to be the big ”rug-pull” in TFP?

I haven’t read the final part in the Enola Holmes series (X) yet, where allegedly Enola reconciles with her brothers (Sherlock in particular) and they end up respecting her independence and skills. But according to several reviews Sherlock softens up a bit in the end. In the parts I have read, the two adult brothers appear rather conservative, patronising and sexist towards their younger sister – indeed more condescending than I think Holmes view of women actually is described in ACD’s original stories (allegedly – we never see him treat women badly in practice, do we?). At any rate, I haven’t this far been able to find a single specific plot element from the ten (supposedly) still copyrighted stories in Springer’s work.

In their lawsuit, the ACD Estate claims that “The Springer novels make extensive infringing use of Conan Doyle’s transformation of Holmes from cold and critical to warm, respectful, and kind in his relationships. Springer places Enola Holmes at the center of the novels and has Holmes initially treat her coolly, then change to respond to her with warmth and kindness.”

So what they’re doing here is the same thing they’ve done before (and lost): they’re claiming they still own some intrinsic characteristics of Sherlock Holmes, even though most of the stories are already in public domain. 

Other lawsuits

A similar lawsuit towards Miramax (X) was made in 2015 for the film Mr Holmes, which had Ian McKellen as protagonist. But it ended in settlement before the defendants had responded to the accusations, which were similar to those regarding Enola Holmes about Holmes’ emotional life, but also had to do with the details of Holmes’ life as a retired man.

So, this is not the first time the copyright owners are interfering with content in Holmes adaptations. To complicate things further there seems to be two different estates claiming copyright for Doyle’s work. In 2010 there was some reporting that another estate had threatened Guy Richie’s Sherlock Holmes movies with disapproval after Robert Downey Junior had discussed Holmes possibly being gay on a TV show (X). According to Digital Spy, Andrea Plunket, who then represented the ‘Arthur Conan Doyle Literary Estate’, said: "I hope this is just an example of Mr Downey's black sense of humour. It would be drastic, but I would withdraw permission for more films to be made if they feel that is a theme they wish to bring out in the future. I am not hostile to homosexuals, but I am to anyone who is not true to the spirit of the books."

It’s very unclear which legal rights Andrea Plunket’s family (Andrea apparently died in 2016) actually has to represent ACD’s work, though. Andrea had been married to one of the copyright owners, and her family’s money had paid for the purchase of those rights, but after her divorce Andrea seems to have lost her part in the copyright, according to @mallamun on tumblr: (X). There’s also a lot of interesting things to read about these copyright issues in an article by Mattias Bodström from 2015: (X). However, there’s still a website from ‘Arthur Conan Doyle Literary Estate’ claiming ownership of the stories: X, and they have published a detailed account of their version of the matter (X).

The current case

I have no idea what the court will think about these new accusations against Netflix et al, but to me, if this isn’t farfetched, I don’t know what is. I think a good case could be made for most of these ‘unique’ elements listed above being expressed already before the Case Book. For example, in His Last Bow (LAST, 1917) they use a car, in The Dying Detective (DYIN, 1913) Holmes manages to fool Dr Watson that he’s very sick. When Watson declares his intent to marry for the first time already in The Sign of Four (SIGN, 1890), Holmes resorts to drugs. The dogs are all over the place since day one, and Holmes seems to appreciate them very much, not least Toby in SIGN.

And don’t get me started on the contradictions in Watson’s various discussions of whether Holmes has a heart. Holmes’ actions of helping people often contradicts the image of a cold, emotionless person. The Yellow Face (YELL, 1893) ends with Holmes being deeply repentant for being over-confident in his suspicion of a woman for adultery or maybe worse offences, when she was actually only trying to protect her little daughter from society’s racism.

In the Devil’s Foot (DEVI, 1910) there’s the following conversation (my bolding): “Upon my word, Watson!” said Holmes at last with an unsteady voice, “I owe you both my thanks and an apology. It was an unjustifiable experiment even for one’s self, and doubly so for a friend. I am really very sorry.” “You know,” I answered with some emotion, for I had never seen so much of Holmes’s heart before, “that it is my greatest joy and privilege to help you.”

Why on earth would it be a “surprising artistic decision” from ACD to develop Holmes into a little more caring and openly compassionate person as he grew older? Isn’t that the very classical character development of any literary hero’s journey and also a logical personal development for many people in the real world? It’s called ‘learning’ and ‘maturing’, as far as I know. To claim this is infringement of some unique idea is frankly ridiculous.

In short: They make a very literal, textual interpretation of the Holmes character, cherry-picking the parts that suit their interests, they claim there’s a clear story arc with very separate characteristics before and after WWI, and that they own the end of it. Thus, no adaptation with a progressive story arc regarding Holmes’ character would be permitted without their consent. Since apparently BBC Sherlock have ACD’s Estate’s license for their own franchise, this just makes me wonder how much trouble Mofftiss et al had with including things like Sherlock’s and John’s hug in TLD, or his emotional breakdown with the coffin after Eurus’ experiments on him in TFP.

Possible satirical meaning and small hints

Allow me to speculate a bit about the possible implications of BBC Sherlock in relation to the Estate. In a recent excellent meta by @raggedyblue, the ACD Estate as ‘Doyle’s bank’ is discussed, regarding the significance of the banker Sebastian Wilkes in The Blind Banker (X). Many interesting ideas are presented in this meta, I really recommend a read. This topic also initiated an interesting discussion about Doyle himself mirroring John in this post by @devoursjohnlock​ (X).

In an addition to that meta @shylockgnomes brings up John’s blog post about Tilly Briggs as another possible reference to the Estate (X). I totally agree with this; some time around the release of BBC Dracula this year, and our discussions about legal issues connected to both shows, I stumbled upon this particular ‘aborted’ blog post and came to realise its possible significance. It gave me the idea to change the title of my own blog to “Tilly Briggs Ship with Johnlock on it”, since I suspect that the blog post might be a clue about legal obstacles to a certain relationship. And that title is staying, at least until we know the true story (if ever). 

Canon contains some info about Matilda Briggs is in The Sussex Vampire, one of the late ACD stories that should be in public domain by now, since the copyright supposedly expired in December 2019. But, as shown above, the Estate now claims there’s a three-year lapse when they can still sue for infringement. Here’s the quote from SUSS (my bolding): “Matilda Briggs was not the name of a young woman, Watson,” said Holmes in a reminiscent voice. “It was a ship which is associated with the giant rat of Sumatra, a story for which the world is not yet prepared.” Sumatra, by the way, was Sherlock’s preferred destination in the TST tale of the merchant who met Death in Samarra. In Sherlock’s version, according to Mycroft, the merchant survived and became a pirate... ;-) 

John’s aborted blog post (X) is titled “Tilly Briggs Cruise of Terror”, which just might be yet another little jibe at the Estate. John says that “I had to take this post down for a while as the ship's owners are launching an appeal”. According to Jacob Sowersby (a Sherlock fan on the blog) and Mike Stamford, this was “mind-blowing stuff”:

So I can’t help thinking this sounds like a hint to us about the Estate and a certain ‘ship’ which is still partly in their (legal) power and control. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if the whole show - on the meta level - is partly meant as a satirical commentary on how Holmes’ and Watson’s characters, and therefore also their relationship, have been treated the last 100+ years by their ‘owners’. A treatment where I believe the hetero norm has always ruled, and where Andrea Plunket’s quote above indicates that homophobia regarding Holmes and Watson is still tied to legal obstacles.

Charles Augustus Magnussen also talks about ownership at the beginning of HLV (thanks for the quotes, Ariane DeVere): “Of course it isn’t blackmail. This is... ownership”. And later in the episode: “It’s all about knowledge. Everything is. Knowing is owning”. In fact, quite a bit of emphasis in HLV is put on Magnussen’s ‘ownership’ of characters people: “I’m a businessman, acquiring assets. You happen to be one of them!” Apparently - as this new lawsuit shows - it’s even possible to make money out of Holmes’ emotions.

@catwillowtree also pointed out, in another additional thread to @raggedyblue​’s meta, that Eurus’ burning down Musgrave Hall – the family estate - in TFP also seems like a reference to the ACD Estate. I would add to this, saying that the bomb that didn’t go off in TEH and the “patience grenade” that did go off in TFP might have to do with the same issue. What would happen if the ‘bomb’ of Johnlock would go off before the relevant stories are legally in public domain? Most probably another lawsuit from the Estate, which might become very expensive. 

Come to think of it, in TGG Greg Lestrade mentions an estate agent, when Sherlock receives a text message and a phone call on the pink phone from Moriarty: “What the hell are we supposed to make of that? An estate agent’s photo and the bloody Greenwich pips!” Well, if the Estate agent is somehow connected to the five pips, that fandom theory of the pips representing five series in the show comes to mind... For every pip in TGG there’s a victim covered in explosives; a huge bomb threatening to go off. (The third bomb did go off in TGG, but in S3 Sherlock found the ‘off-switch’ in time). If the fifth bomb is to explode in S5, I bet it won’t be until the relevant stories are safely in public domain. 2023?

More wild speculation while I’m at it: Maybe Sherlock and Ajay’s smashing of Thatcher busts in TST also ties in metaphorically to the same topic? The Thatcher era was not easy for LGBTQ people. There are several owners in TST whose Thatcher busts need to be smashed in order for Ajay’s lost memory stick to be recovered. AGRA is referred to as Ajay’s and Mary’s “family”. The memory stick contains personal information, ‘who you really are’. Could be read as if the info of who Sherlock Holmes really is can only be released once certain obstacles are overcome...

In another interesting meta from last year by @yeah-oh-shit​ (X), they mention the secret underground station at Sumatra road in TEH, where Howard Shilcott tells Sherlock and John that “They built the platforms, even the staircases, but it all got tied up in legal disputes, so they never built the station on the surface.” So maybe S5 is basically already written? It would make sense to me if the long hiatus we’re facing right now has a far more logical reason than the excuses Mofftiss have presented in interviews - the risk of legal disputes with the copyright owners.  

Tagging some more people who might be interested: @gosherlocked​ @ebaeschnbliah​ @sarahthecoat​ @sagestreet​ @thepersianslipper​

ETA: I have corrected some details about the copyright owners in this post; thanks @devoursjohnlock​ for pointing them out!

[swissmissficrecs]

Word count: 53,393 Chapters: 12/12 Fandom: Sherlock (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Rosamund Mary "Rosie" Watson, Greg Lestrade, James Sholto (Sherlock), Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character(s), Mrs. Hudson (Sherlock Holmes), Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock Holmes' Father, Sherlock Holmes' Mother Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s04e03 The Final Problem, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, POV John Watson, Mutual Pining, X-Files Inspired Case Fic, Case Fic, Christmas, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Minor Character Death, minor character illness, Idiots in Love, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Psychological Trauma, Divorce, Estrangement, Family Issues, Medical Conditions, Johnlock - Freeform, mentions of dementia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD Summary:

Sherlock’s father falls ill, leaving the surviving family members broken and rudderless. James Sholto shows up in London unexpectedly, his intentions unclear. John has to navigate the consequences of crime, illness and death and their impact on his frayed relationship with Sherlock.

======

Rec: I gobbled this fic up in a single afternoon, hooked from the get-go by the solid writing, perfect pacing, and juicy hints at sordid secrets. Reader, I was not disappointed. This is a beautifully written story that combines an original case with family drama, ghosts of the past, and emotional confrontations coming to a head over end-of-life medical drama. Although the prologue is from James Sholto’s POV, the rest is from John’s, and centers on him and Sherlock as they investigate a case involving Sholto - and by association, John. Complicating matters are the approach of Christmas, an unhappy reunion that dredges up issues in both the Holmes and Watson families, and the state of suspended limbo that characterizes John and Sherlock’s relationship in the wake of all that happened in series 4. All of these plots are tightly interwoven and coalesce into a highly rewarding and satisfactory tapestry of emotion, excitement, tension, and fulfillment.

The author says this was inspired by an X-Files episode, but there is nothing supernatural or spooky. Other than that, see warnings in the tags.

[thewatsonbeekeepers]

Chapter 5 – Hey, Soul Sister: Who is Eurus?

Do you get it? She’s his sister? But metaphorically, she’s a part of his soul? I was very impressed with myself for this title. Anyway…

This chapter of the meta is going to deal with the various times we meet Eurus before TFP and what this might mean, which will help us to understand who she is once we have stripped off the disguises.

Before series 4, we had real!characters and MP!characters set up as distinct entities, particularly in TSoT, which distinguishes between MP!Mycroft (the deducing brain) and real!Mycroft, as well as MP!Irene representing desire and real!Irene, who doesn’t come near the episode. The MP section in TSoT, for a lot of people in the fandom, broke down Sherlock’s psyche into MP!John vs. MP!Mycroft – and John is clearly winning.

However, I want to suggest that Sherlock’s psyche isn’t nearly so straightforward as a tug of war between the brain and the heart. Whilst MP!Mycroft undoubtedly represents the oppressively reasonable part of Sherlock’s psyche, that’s not the only thing repressing him – it can’t be. If it were simply a rejection of ‘sentiment’, this wouldn’t be the powerful queer love story we know it to be – there is a lot more internalised homophobia being dealt with than just love being illogical. That’s where Eurus comes in.

Eurus and Mycroft are parallel oppressive forces in Sherlock’s brain, but they’re oppressive in different ways. Having family members and childhood trauma be the psyche’s symbols for repression is particularly poignant in a queer love story, for obvious reasons. However, I want to take you through my reasoning behind Eurus being the most secret and troubled part of Sherlock’s soul.

The first clue is that her prison is called Sherrinford. We all assumed that the third Holmes sibling was going to be Sherrinford back before s4, and it seemed that way in the beginning, with Mycroft mentioning speaking to Sherrinford several times, construing it as a person rather than a place. This is no coincidence – for those who aren’t familiar with the history of the stories, Conan Doyle’s original name for his protagonist was Sherrinford Holmes, which he later changed to Sherlock. That Eurus is trapped inside Sherrinford is a clear suggestion that Eurus is something that’s trapped inside Sherlock – a dangerous MP entity. More important than that, Sherrinford is the version of Holmes that never made it into the books. Plenty of people have worked on queering the Holmes canon and working out what ACD might have been implying and leaving out and arguably none more so in an adaptation that Mofftiss. Let’s think about the implications of this. A kind of second self, not shown to the public, buried inside your mind and forgotten since childhood, which is bursting out into a moment of acute psychological distress. Gee, I don’t know what that could be about. The Sherlock that Sherlock thinks he is has thus far been dominated by MP!Mycroft, but this series is about uniting canon!Holmes with the non-canon, queer Sherrinford who has always existed, judging by the name, and who is currently dominated by the destructive MP!Eurus. The other important point to note here is that Sherrinford is an island in the middle of the sea – that’s not a coincidence, given how much water imagery abounds in this series. I spoke briefly in Chapter 2 X about how water represents Sherlock sinking deeper and deeper into his own subconsciousness – this is the deepest he can go. In Greek mythology, Eurus was the name of the wind most associated with causing storms at sea X – this isn’t a coincidence either. She’s very deliberately tied in with water.

(In real life terms, of course, all this means that a real!Eurus probably does or did exist in some form, although I can’t begin to hazard a guess about this. However, I’m trying to refer to her as MP!Eurus when she’s in her normal form in the MP, in case we get a series 5 with Sian Brooke as real!Eurus, and also to distinguish her from therapist!Eurus etc.)

This is my reasoning as to why MP!Eurus represents Sherlock’s innermost trauma. She is not merely the fact that he loves John – he deduced this in TSoT without her appearance. She is the trauma that he needs to come to terms with. A running theme through our analysis of Eurus will be that her gender is particularly important; her representation of Sherlock’s repression cannot be but as a woman, because for most of s4 he is only able to process his identity through the most heterosexual of lenses. We see this hinted at quite early on in TST, when Sherlock takes on a case called ‘The Duplicate Man’, warning John that it is never twins. The word ‘duplicate’ here, removing twins, leaves us with the only real possibility that it is in fact the same person. Eurus’s gender makes that more difficult to see; she needs to be female, but it’s much more difficult to elide the two characters without employing a Cumberbatch doppelganger. However, this hint that Eurus is not only male but an actual ‘duplicate’ of her brother should give us pause for thought. With this in mind, I want to use the rest of this chapter to analyse her three forms before TFP.

1.)    Faith!Eurus

I’m certainly not the first to point out that Faith!Eurus is a mirror for John, nor will I be the last – people jumped on it pretty much as soon as TLD aired. There are a few good reasons for this. Firstly, she walks with a cane, a throwback to ASiP – in case we’d forgotten, however, Sherlock has a flashback to John walking with a cane to make the link explicit. We are supposed to link these two characters, the authors are saying pretty clearly. Faith!Eurus is also suicidal, which John was at the start of ASiP, as made clear by the fact he carried a gun – and Faith!Eurus does the same. Sherlock also takes her out for food (for more on the food/sex metaphor, see here X) which he doesn’t with anyone bar John, and we certainly never see him talk so easily with someone who isn’t John. An eagle-eyed tumblr post that I can’t find now also broke my heart in pointing out that Faith!Eurus’s unseen self-harm matches long-sleeved John Watson a little too well.

This isn’t just the show trying to remind us of what John was like in ASiP, however. MP!Eurus is the trauma prodding Sherlock’s sexuality – it’s going to be hell to get through it, but he absolutely needs to do it. This is Sherlock’s trauma, not reminding him that John was suicidal, but forcing him to acknowledge it in the first place, something which Sherlock has buried. We know this because of the way the image of John forces its way into Sherlock’s mind – it’s much like the way Moriarty breaks into TAB. His brain is making a connection that he’s not quite capable of making and it’s knocking him. His deduction that Faith!Eurus is suicidal is accompanied by that image of John, and he then re-enacts the food ritual he completed with John the evening John left his cane behind, before throwing Faith!Eurus’s gun into the Thames – proving that it was Sherlock himself who stopped John from taking his own life.

This is trauma, however, and Sherlock can’t process it in full – hence why the image of John that breaks in is shaky, and Sherlock tries to push it out of his head. It’s also why Faith!Eurus, who in Sherlock’s subconscious could take any form, specifically takes the form of a woman. His gay trauma means that he first has to process John’s suicidal ideation in a heterosexual dynamic, before fully grasping and applying it to his relationship with John. (Chapter 9 X explains how that plays out over the rest of TLD in full detail.)

2.)   E!Eurus

Taking a jump back to surface level plot here, the first thing that grabbed me about E!Eurus was just how minor John’s flirtation with her was. In the terms of a television show which really rides on very high drama (multiple faked deaths and insane cliffhangers for a start), the emotional peak of John’s emotional arc with Mary being that he texted another woman – not went out for lunch, not kissed, not slept with – is bizarre, particularly when we know next to nothing about E!Eurus at this point. It’s incredibly anti-climactic as a means of John falling short of Mary’s view of him. Maybe we can accept it as in line with John Moral-Principles Watson, but it’s difficult to accept as in keeping with the nature of a show whose intent is nearly always to shock.

With this in mind, let’s delve back into the MP to see how that might give this moment greater emotional significance. Chapter 10 X is on the hug scene, and that will deal with John’s revelation of his infidelity in greater detail. For the moment, the most important thing to remember is that John Watson is not real!John – he is heart!John. In other words, we are seeing a similarly heterosexualised re-enactment of Sherlock’s relationship with John.

I will talk a lot in Chapter 10 X about how MP!Mary is linked to Sherlock’s compulsory heterosexuality; at the end of TST, Sherlock substitutes Mary’s body for his because he cannot conceive of John’s queer grief without breaking himself. This is interesting because the E of Eurus actually stands for Elizabeth in this scene (certainly in the credits, and possibly elsewhere, although I can’t remember Sian Brooke actually saying it). Elizabeth is Elizabeth is Mary’s middle name in BBC Sherlock, which looks like another of those shared name links our creators love so well. If so, this begins to justify how Sherlock’s heart is conceiving of its emotions. We will see in TLD that heart!John’s relationship with fem!John in the form of Eurus is aligned with Sherlock’s sexual desire in the form of MP!Irene. Both are hidden and exist only in texts – i.e., they cannot be spoken yet. But they will be.

 3.)    Therapist!Eurus

This one is perhaps the most straightforward on a symbolism level, but also possibly the most significant moment in the series. Therapist!Eurus, plain and simple, is Sherlock’s trauma prodding at John, interrogating him like a therapist would, trying to work him out – and largely failing, right? She can get basically nothing about how he feels about Sherlock out of him. But this is part of MP!Eurus’s ongoing project to get Sherlock to wake up – the Gay Trauma is interrogating John, trying to suss him, and failing.

Except, in the final scene of TLD, without the help of Therapist!Eurus, Sherlock has finally sussed John – it has taken until Culverton’s confession to recognise that John is suicidal without Sherlock (Chapter 9 X). The sigh of relief that is the hug scene (Chapter 10 X) is a kind of acknowledgement of that relief that he’s finally worked out what he’s been trying to cover up with drugs – so much so, that he misses the obvious, which is that John is suicidal again. When John leaves his cane with Sherlock in the hospital, it is a reminder of the first time he is suicidal, and Sherlock doesn’t make the immediate leap in his comatose haze that this is what his psyche has been trying to tell him. Hence you have this moment of immense relief and fade out at the end of the hug scene which suggests the end of the episode, and could feasibly end Sherlock’s life, except we’re started awake with a much more abrupt and troubling ending scene – Therapist!Eurus shooting John. Because, of course, if Sherlock is gone again, John must be suicidal again, and it has taken a few scenes of cognitive dissonance for this to clock. Indeed, it’s not Sherlock himself who clocks – Gay Trauma in the form of Eurus!Therapist returns and shoots John for us. This shooting isn’t, of course, permanent (in one of the worst cliffhanger resolutions in TV history), but that’s because it’s not real – it hasn’t happened yet. It is Sherlock, through MP!Eurus, finally recognising the problem – John.

This is particularly poignant in light of the opening and closing shots of TLD. Although there’s the fucky not-blood red that fills the screen at the end of TLD, apart from that the shots of Norbury shooting Mary and Therapist!Eurus shooting John are one and the same shot. It’s also a stylish shot (what I call split screen, but given that I never went to film school I think that’s just my name for it) and it’s repeated enough times over TLD that it’s pretty clear the creatives want it to be memorable. By the time John gets shot, then, we shouldn’t be caught up in the drama of it – we should be thinking, as so many did, “something’s fucky.”

And it is – but it’s brilliantly fucky! Head over to Chapter 7 X if you want to read about Norbury shooting Mary, but TLDR it’s a metaphor for Mary shooting Sherlock as understood from Sherlock’s warped and depressed perspective – and he’s finally realised what it means! The version in which Mary shooting Sherlock means John losing Mary (the Norbury version) is one in which John is sad, goes to therapy, and the world moves on. Now, however, that Sherlock has recognised that John was suicidal, he can also recognise that Mary shooting Sherlock will make John suicidal again – hence why it’s the same shot. Mary shooting Sherlock is the same as John dying – and the latter is much more important in Sherlock’s mind.

[It’s worth noting that the identical shots we see in TST and TLD don’t match the shot in HLV, although admittedly that one’s not in the MP – it does strike me, however, that the sounds are reversed – HLV sounds like a dart, whereas the MP shots sound like bullets. If anyone has any thoughts on that, do let me know – it has me flummoxed for the moment. If you want meta explaining why the shot from TST is the same as HLV, Chapter 7 is here X, and I’m certainly not the first to hypothesise this. For me, the TLD shot being the same is therefore a logical extension.]

[savvy-devine666]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock BBC Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Mycroft Holmes, Original Female Character(s), Original Baby Character Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Comfort, death of a child, mentions of stillbirth, after effects of stillbirth, Angst, Family, Feels Series: Part 10 of Roads Less Walked Summary:

Mycroft comforts Melody as they grieve for what they've lost, along with the psychological and physical effects she has been left with.

[honeypiehotchner]

Deception (John Watson x OFC) -- part fourteen

*hides behind door* Listen, I know it’s been a very long time, and I’m so sorry for that, but to make up for it, here’s a new (super long!) chapter! And I come bearing good news: I am getting back into this story again xx. I hope you guys don’t hate me too much for the absolutely absurd amount of time between these updates!

I leave early for my meeting with Mycroft, making it to his office just in time for him to tell me I’ve gone to the wrong one.

           “Would it kill you to let me know we’re going to be in the bunker today?” I sigh, shoving the door in front of me, earning a nasty look from the security guard who stopped halfway through opening the door for me.

           “Would it kill you to stop referring to my secret office as the bunker?”

           “Yes, actually, it would,” I reply, trying not to stomp down the stairs. I open his office door without knocking. “Good—”

           There, leaned back in the armchair in the corner of the office, looking rightfully irritated, is none other than the famous detective himself, Sherlock Holmes.

           “Close the door, please.”

           Mycroft raises his eyebrows at me as I slowly kick the door closed, leaning back against it. Strangely this feels less like a meeting between colleagues and more like two older siblings scolding the youngest. Which, now that I review our relationship to one another, isn’t far from the truth at times. Though typically it was Mycroft and me scolding Sherlock.

           “What the hell are you doing here?”

           “He’s not back for long, so do calm down. You little whirlwind romance doesn’t have to end just yet.” Mycroft rolls his eyes as he stands, buttoning his suit jacket while he steps around his desk. He sits on the edge, leaning back on his hands, staring knowingly.

           “I’m calm,” I defend, crossing my arms over my chest. “And whirlwind romance? Really?”

           “You’re scattered,” Sherlock comments, narrowing his eyes. “You woke up…hours ago, but not successfully. You didn’t sleep alone—You didn’t sleep alone.” His stare turns cold. “Nicole.”

           “William,” I retort.

           “When I agreed to you looking after John Watson, I didn’t mean getting attached.”

           “Funnily enough, neither did I.”

           Sherlock’s head tilts, his narrowed eye staring me down. He’s already irritated, but so am I. I had zero warning he would be here in person, zero time to prepare myself for this.

           “John Watson is—”

           “I don’t need a speech from you about hurting him, Sherlock, because I think you’ve done that well enough.”

           The detective’s mouth opens and closes. His older brother stares at me, daring to make an argument, but there isn’t one. I’m right and they both know it. No amount of “caring is not an advantage” bullshit could make Mycroft or Sherlock believe that what happened hasn’t crushed John Watson to pieces. Pieces which, by the way, I am helping him pick up.

           “What are you even doing back here, anyway?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. “I thought you were supposed to be fighting crime somewhere miles away.”

           “I am,” Sherlock mutters. “I’m here only for a check-in.”

           “Well. You’ve checked in. John is fine.”

           “I can’t believe you’re not worried,” Sherlock shakes his head. “I expected you to be squirming, worried he’ll see me somewhere and your relationship with him will be ruined.”

           “He sees you all the time,” I reply quietly. “You died, Sherlock. He still sees you. He has dreams. He’ll call me sobbing some days because he was out for lunch and saw someone that looked just a little too much like you. He’ll wake up in the middle of the night after reliving watching you fall to your fucking death. So, no, I’m not worried right now. Because I have the smallest bit of faith that maybe, just maybe there is one ounce of decency in you to know that you need to leave John alone until you know the time is right. Don’t play with him like he’s some toy.”

           “Funny to hear all of this coming from you.”

           “Who faked their death again?”

           “And who’s lying to him about her identity?”

           I sigh, shaking my head now. There’s no sense in arguing about this. The entire situation is sticky, that much is known already. Both of us are at some fault here, arguably Sherlock more than me. But arguing won’t fix anything.

           “How long are you going to be gone?”

           “Half a year. Final estimate,” Mycroft answers for his younger brother. “You’ve got half  a year left with Dr. Watson.”

           “And you’ve got half a year left before you ruin his life. Again.”

           “Let’s stop arguing semantics, shall we?” Mycroft intervenes on Sherlock and I’s heated glares. “Sherlock will need to return to London once in a while, which I will notify you of. Your job, obviously, is to look after Dr. Watson and make sure he stays oblivious to it all. Are we clear?”

           “Crystal. As always. Now, if you don’t mind, I have somewhere to be for lunch.”

           “With John?” Sherlock snorts.

           “No. With Molly,” I reply easily, smirking to myself.

           “Molly?” Mycroft questions.

           “Yes.”

           “Will you tell her I said hello?”

           “You’re Sherlock Holmes, tell her yourself.”

           “I can’t.”

           “Why not? She knows you’re alive.”

           “Yes, but—”

           “I’m not mentioning the fact that I was with you, Sherlock, so stop it. As far as she knows, I don’t know that you’re alive either – I don’t know you, period. Talk to her yourself.” I look to Mycroft, the one I was actually scheduled to meet here. “Are we done?”

           He shrugs his shoulders in the manner he always does, which is my cue to leave, not casting a second glance at Sherlock as I exit Mycroft’s office.

~~~

Molly Hooper and I first met one afternoon after we had seen each other in the same café every day after three consecutive days.

           I probably stared at her a little too long because Mycroft had shown me a picture of her – he showed me pictures of all those who still knew Sherlock was alive – and I immediately recognized her. No wonder Sherlock was in love with her.

           She’s practically the same as Sherlock, only…ordinary. And I mean that in the best of senses. She’s just as awkward as he is, has a bad habit of saying the wrong things at the wrong time – although she at least recognizes quickly when the time is wrong. She likes strange things. She likes working in the morgue possibly as much as Sherlock likes being there, if not more.

           She’s obsessed with him. Even though she has no idea I don’t know that she knows he’s alive, she still gushes about him. Well, gushes is a relative term for it. She doesn’t gush necessarily, but she does slip up and talk about him probably when she shouldn’t. She’ll stop and pause and apologize, mutter something about needing to keep her mouth shut, and I just have to tell her it’s okay. Keep up the lie that I have no idea who Sherlock is. None. Whatsoever.

           “But aren’t you and John…dating?”

           “We are,” I nod, letting myself smile.

           “Doesn’t he talk about…?” Then she catches herself, shaking her head. “Sorry…it’s probably not my place to…”

           “No, you’re alright,” I dismiss her worry. “And he does sometimes, but not much. I think it’s too hard for him to really…” I wave my hands. “Express it, I guess. He’d probably kill me if he heard me telling you this.”

           “Probably,” Molly laughs, glancing down at her coffee. “How is he? John, I mean. I haven’t seen him in a while.”

           “You haven’t?”

           Molly shakes her head sadly. “He doesn’t come around anymore, not since Sherlock…”

           “I understand,” I nod. “I think it’s just too hard on him.”

           “I understand,” she says, speaking to her plate. “Well, how are you, what are you up to?”

           “You know me,” I laugh dryly, “busy with clients and when I’m not, John is dragging me out – even when I am, he still takes me out. He did last night, told me I needed to take a break.”

           “Did you?”

           “Probably.”

           “Well, good on him,” she nods her head in agreement. “We all need to take breaks sometimes.”

           “Yes, I know,” I smile softly.

~~~

“What did you do today?”

           “I…had lunch with Molly.”

           “Molly?” John raises his eyebrows. “Molly Hooper?”

           “Yes, that Molly.” I reach up into the cabinet and get down two wine glasses. John came over for dinner and decided to stay the night (again), which means sharing more wine together.

           “I didn’t know you knew her.”

           I turn around, placing my hands on my hips. “Funnily enough, I didn’t know she knew you, either.” I smile, teasing. “She slipped up and began talking about you one day and from there we realized we had a mutual friend. I hope you don’t mind.”

           John furrows his eyebrows. “Why would I mind?”

           I shrug, my hands falling to my sides. “I know she was close with Sherlock and I just didn’t know if it would…upset you, or anything.”

           John smiles gently, stepping forward to take my hands in his. I can’t help but smile when he kisses my knuckles, squeezing my fingers in his briefly. “I’m not upset,” he whispers, soft but firm enough to let me know he’s being serious. “It’s funny, actually.”

           “Funny?”

           “It’s a small world, that’s all.”

           I nod, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. You have no idea, I think to myself. It’s better that my words are left unsaid.

[shipsforeveryone]

✨1/3 hello! can i have a harry potter, kingsman, mcu, x-men , new girl, sherlock, tvd, the originals, teen wolf and the lord of the rings ship please? and can i get a blurb for x-men or the originals? (an enemies to lovers or whatever you like!) i’m a short and kinda curvy 22 year old straight female, i’m an intp 5w6, i think physical touch is my love language, i love holding hands! i got slytherin on my pottermore quiz but i think i’m more of a slytherin ravenclaw hybrid. 🌪

✨2/3 i cry with almost every movie/show or book i watch or read but i’m unemotional in my actual life. my dad died suddenly, when i was 18 so i have severe trust issues.i like fictional characters more than real people, i have social anxiety but when i get comfortable with someone i become this awkward, bubbly ball of fun. i’m reallyy sarcastic, blunt and stubborn, i’m also quite competitive and a perfectionist. i was really smart when i was younger but then depression hit and i 🌪

✨3/3 forgot how to use my brain. i listen to music 24/7, i love listening to songs that make me cry! i also love binge watching movies/tvshows over and over again. i really enjoy painting. i did archery for about 5 years and i absolutely loved it. i love people who can get my sarcastic sense of humour and i hate small talk! i thrive under pressure.i love intelligent people and i wish i could know everything about everything. i'm really sorry this is so long, have a great day! thank you 🌪

Sure thing! Hope you don't mind but I decided to do Admitting Feelings for the scenario. Also putting this below a cut!

Harry Potter

Romantic - George Weasley. I think George would love how sarcastic and blunt you are and would want to participate in all of your hobbies. He'd do everything he could to win your trust. And he would show you how to cut loose and prank the hell out of anyone you had an issue with. On days when depression is really hitting you hard, George would be there for whatever you needed or wanted. He'd go out of his way to cheer you up.

Best Friend - Luna Lovegood. I think that Luna would be completely unfazed by your sarcasm and blunt nature. And the most understanding of your social anxiety and your sense of humor. Not to mention she'd understand the effect of losing a parent can have, so she'd always be there for you whenever you need her.

Kingsman

Romantic - Hamish Mycroft / Merlin

Best Friend - Harry Hart / Galahad

MCU

Romantic - Bruce Banner

Best Friend - Wanda Maximoff

X-Men

Romantic - Hank McCoy

Best Friend - Charles Xavier

New Girl

Romantic - Nick Miller

Best Friend - Jess Day

Sherlock

Romantic - Sherlock Holmes

Best Friend - John Watson

The Vampire Diaries & The Originals

Romantic - Klaus. I can truly see you with Klaus. Both of you have severe trust issues but I think you'd work through them together. Whenever your depression would get the best of you, Klaus would set everything up so the two of you could paint together or binge-watch your favorite movies and shows.

Admitting Feelings - Klaus would take forever to say it in words. His actions and behavior around you would indicate his feelings for you. Until one day, after a nasty fight with one of his siblings, Klaus would show up on your doorstep. He'd confide in you because you're the only person he fully trusts. While unloading everything else off his chest, he'd gently cup your face in his hands and tell you about the feelings he has for you.

Best Friend - Elijah Mikaelson. Elijah would understand you and he'd be the one to assure you that even though Klaus doesn't always show it, you make Klaus so very happy.

Teen Wolf

Romantic - Stiles Stilinski

Best Friend - Lydia Martin

Lord of the Rings

Romantic - Frodo Baggins

Best Friend - Elrond