#bbc sherlock & johnlock was the reason i ever started on here | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

missholson · 4 years

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SHIP HISTORY MEME

Embrace your past and get to know your friends’ fandom origins!

Rules: Post gifs of your fandoms / ships starting with your most current hyperfixation and work backwards. (Bonus points if you share any stories about how or when you got into that ship! But not necessary!!) Then tag anyone whose fandom history you’d like to learn about!

Tagged by the sweet @unwillingadventurer, thank you girls! <3

Hoffmann & Tennstedt (Das Boot) The baby face & the stone face. :) The biggest reason for this series is my sister, who tried to lure me into the fandom already last summer by showing the first episode. Sadly it was a far too distressing experience. The story is about a WW2 German warfare, so it isn’t very light entertainment for Saturday night. The show seemed like a worth watching production, though, but I doubted if I could ever watch it completely. After visiting Berlin now in February 2020 there was no hesitation anymore. The story focuses on the Nazi German submarine, U-612, and the occupied city of La Rochelle in France. However, not everything is as black and white as one might expect. One of the biggest messages of the show is that war is always brutal, no matter which side you fight. The innocent are always suffering. It also shows how the ideal thoughts of warfare crumble, if it comes at the cost of greed, deception, health or life. There is disagreement among the leaders on boat, too. The new commander, kaleun Klaus Hoffmann, is young and inexperienced but kind-hearted and wise. Next on the scale, IWO Karl Tennstedt, is an experienced sailor and an glory-seeking soldier, who envies Hoffamann's position. He regards Hoffmann as incompetent and a disgrace to Germany. So, there is plenty of tension between these two!

Louis & Philippe (Versailles) I started watching the show sometime in 2015, but found it quite distasteful. It was more brutal than expected, and I was overwhelmed by people's greed and dirty behavior, so I stopped watching after a few episodes. Every now and then I saw pics/gifs on Tumblr, especially of Monsieur and Chevalier, that I finally wanted to give another chance in January 2020. This time the experience was the opposite, and I got a better grip on the story. I was surprised how little I liked the popular Monchevy pair and, instead, so much the quarreling brothers. I was very moved when they joked with each other and showed brotherly love. In the scenes of conflict, I missed their compassion. I haven't watched the rest of seasons 2-3 yet, so I don't know if they get better. I hope so because together they would be a powerful duo.

Matt & Cherry (Red River) I had recorded Red River (1948) on my set-top box, and the closing date was expiring in December 2018. It was Montgomery Clift’s breakthrough movie, so it was a must see. The movie was a refreshingly different western, where the hero is not a macho cowboy and John Wayne a bad guy for a change. But most of all, I was amazed how Cherry Valance's behavior towards Matt Garth was so heavily double entendre. At first they are presented as challengers and opponents of each other. Slowly Cherry starts to show admiration for Matt, and increasingly talks about his gun. In return, Matt needs Cherry's shooting skills to herd cattle. Eventually they become each other's trusted ones. I always find it fascinating, if tension begins to develop between the opposing characters. If the story has a couple that doesn't change, develope or lacks dynamics, it probably won't arouse interest.

Fritz & Dr. Frankenstein (Frankenstein) I had seen a Tumblr gif of Renfield crawling in Dracula (1931) in August 2018. It was Dwight Frye’s breakthrough role. The movie inspired me to watch other Universal monster movies, of which Frankenstein (1931) became my favorite. The work pair of the story, these two outcasts of society, melted my heart. For unexplained reason they have joined their forces and seem to be working well together. They have a mutual partnership, where they can act naturally without fear. Their work is unique, e.g. digging the graves or snatching hanged bodies, but they treat it like any other dayily job. Somehow, I like this way of approach. Actually I have written about Fritz already earlier, where I take a closer look at their relationship. The text can be read here.

Adrian & Antony (Sebastiane) Well, this couple is a specialty of its own. They are another ones found through Tumblr. I saw a picture of them in June 2018 which led me to watch the film. In terms of story or acting, it's not a very special movie but technically professional level. First of all, it was shot under the blazing Sicilian sun on 35 mm film. The light is a vital factor when using a film camera, so the pictures look very rich. The scenes, where these two are having fun together in slow motion, are breathtaking. I had never seen anything like it before and, in my opinion, stole all the attention of the story since they were just characters in supporting roles. It was like a gay paradise on earth. Here I realize the importance in the way how the characters are presented. The technical presentation can play a surprisingly huge role when we try to read and understand the characters. It can influence us either to share their thoughts or to move even further away from them. Bonus points I give for Latin, which the entire cast is speaking in the film. I would also like to clarify that this is not a p**n movie or a family movie either. It’s a gay erotic story with some full frontal nudity.

Reinhold & Conrad I’m not sure if this is a ship or fandom, but I feel extreme warmth and joy for this pair (the Berlin trip may have something to do with this). They are also the only people from real life instead of characters. I’d like to share my story about them, unfortunately it's very long (I've never been a fluent writer) but explains my interest in more detail. I got to know Conrad Veidt already in high school at the turn of the millennium, the time before DVDs. Near the school there was a buy-sell-exchange movie shop, where my sister and I visited regularly. Somehow we ended up with the idea that we wanted to see The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920), so we went to the store again. There was no copy, as expected, but the seller said he would keep in mind if one came up. Months passed and after a long break we visited our regular place again. This time, the man had news for us: he had received a copy and kept it in safe for us. We couldn’t believe our eyes and ears. First of all, the kindness of the man made us speechless, and secondly, we never thought we would get our own copy of such popular rarity. At that time movies were not re-released as often as they are today. It was a VHS cassette, bw, not tinted like the original version, and its quality was far from the 4K richness and sharpness. My sister still has the tape and is one of the treasures she will never give away. For years the film was the only Conrad movie we saw, along with Casablanca - until the digital age and the social media arrived. Again I have to thank Tumblr, where I found the actor Anton Walbrook. One of his most famous films, Viktor und Viktoria (1933), is directed by Reinhold Schünzel, whom I knew from Conrad's film Different from the Others (1919). I began to study Reinhold's background more closely in December 2017, and it turned out that he is a forgotten multi-talent in the film industry: He was a versatile performer in comedies and dramas, a prolific director and an idea-rich screenwriter. He had an eye for creating stories that were told in the minds of people in addition to acting and lines. He questioned gender roles and built juicy plot twists around them. He loved theater and was a popular celebrity in 1920’s Germany. He was also a colleague and friend of Conrad. They began their film careers at the same time in Richard Oswald's films, shared the ups and downs, even their wardrobe, and reached fame. Eventually they both had to emigrate from the national socialist Germany, so their paths parted. The following reunions were always a joy, “like the meeting of comrades who fought in many wars together”. Reinhold was supposed to direct Conrad’s first film at MGM in Hollywood, but the plans were changed. They never got to work together since the German years, when Conrad died suddenly. “Part of my life is gone forever”, as Reinhold wrote in his tribute to Connie's death in 1943. He returned to Germany in the end of 1940s and died in Munich in 1954. This is why they are so precious to me and why I find it important to share the memory of these two lifelong friends. The picture is from Eerie Tales (1919), one of their earliest movies together with the director: Reinhold, Richard and Conrad. Reinhold’s full tribute can be read here.

I’m tagging: @wohlbruecks, @perfides-subjekt, @kennyboybarrett, @chapinfan69, @electricnormanbates, @ars-historia-est, @suchamiracle-does-exist and anyone who likes to do it. Would you like to share your stories behind your otps? :)

#tag post #ship history meme #ships & fandoms #personal #many thanks for posting this #unwillingadventurer #this was so much fun to do #it gave a much needed break to the situation we are living atm #i guess that’s why the text became so long sorry for that #i had to write it in finnish first #in order to get a proper structure #these are my current ships/fandoms #bbc sherlock & johnlock was the reason i ever started on here #own post

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kettykika78 · 2 years

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Podfixx: Johnlock love at first listening

I owe to only one person my deep love for bbc Sherlock, @podfixx

This is a message of love and thanks to her. ♥♥♥♥♥

In 2019 I managed very intense work at the desk added to the housework and as a new mother. While working I listened to podcasts, but I love fiction and had recently discovered Good Omens. Looking for other similar material I came across tumblr and AO3 but I couldn't read anything for obvious reasons of time. The solution was to listen to the fictions as if they were podcasts and audio books, and here Podfixx enters the scene! I devoured her entire Good Omens collection on AO3, I fell in love with her voice and thoughtful comments. But there's a lot more BBC Sherlock material on her profile, and another alias @Lockedinjohnlock. Obviously I already knew the subject, having read Doyle's novels and as a fan of crime series. But I was hesitant: "No, I don't have to start on Johnlock fanfic, it could become my new monomania!". No sooner said than done.

According to my AO3 story, from march 2020 to may 2022, I have read or listened to over 2500 bbc sherlock's fanfic. I have lovely mutuals. I've created fanarts and even written a ficlet.

All thanks to Podfix!

♥♥♥ Thank you @podfixx !! ♥♥♥

So, now please enjoy the first BBC Sherlock fanfic I ever heard: "About Sleep and Coffee and the Existence of Fate" by Atiki and read by Podfix!

#podfixx #bbc sherlock #sherlock fandom #i'm loving this fandom #podfic #sherlock podfic #atiki #SoundCloud

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merlinoutofcontext · 4 years

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wait so why do you think merlin isn’t queerbaiting? this isn’t meant to be rude im just curious

hey! happy to answer, and i didn’t perceive your question as rude at all btw. here are my thoughts, i’m sorry they’re so long but i also don’t think this is a topic that can be summarized in a few sentences, so...

i don’t really know how else to say that it isn’t queerbaiting by just stating that it isn’t. there is very little evidence in the actual show to even claim that the show was at any point queerbaiting. but to be fair, i also think it’s important to note the term “queerbaiting” doesn’t even have an “official” definition so it can mean very different things to different people. this is the definition that i am working with.

“When an author/director/etc. gives hints, and clever twists to paint a character as possibly being queer, to satisfy queer audiences, but never outright says they are so they can keep their heterosexual audience.”

bbc merlin is a family show. and i don’t mean “family show” in the way that it is usually insinuated - as in it’s supposed to be “clean” and “nice” and “appealing” to a family audience, so therefore any queercoded message is bad and not appropriate. what i mean is that it’s a tv show that was expected to be approachable by families of all ages, at any point throughout the series, so that they can understand what’s happening. whether or not you watched the episode that aired the previous week has absolutely no bearing on the next episode. merlin only started having multi-episode arcs in series 3. and it’s this reason why i think so many ppl are dissatisfied with the show, bc it wasn’t meant to be this deep narrative. they didn't have enough time to write in full fledged storylines. but i digress.

i’m going to be using other tumblr obsessed tv show and ship as examples here.

i will admit that my original post was sparked by some of the stuff surrounding supernatural that’s happened, but i’m not really going to speak to it much. i do think the internet may have went a bit overboard, and i don’t want to sit here and claim spn was queerbaiting its audience because i actually do think thats kind of a subjective thing. but in my opinion, the fact that they waited until their final season, and what appears to be a characters last episode, to make the ship that has been a large driving force of their remaining audience for the past 12 years, canon, does sit a little weird with me. anyway.

lets use another ship as an example that is literally, unequivocally queerbaiting. i don’t care about your opinion here, this show queerbaited the hell out of its audience for 7 literal years. johnlock.

multiple times throughout the show the relationship between john and sherlock is hinted at through the language of the show, by characters in the show, etc. more often than not, the concept of a relationship between them is framed as a joke. additionally, bbc’s sherlock kept the sexuality of their main character (coincidentally the titular character) ambiguous, while also managing to make fun of their audience of shippers for even thinking that johnlock could be a possibility.

never once in bbc’s merlin is the concept of arthur and merlin being close to one another, or connected by fate/destiny/magic (which is often seen as being coded for sexuality) as a bad thing. not in the text of the show, not by the creators of the show, not by the actors in the show. in fact, even in the last episode, merlin’s devotion to arthur is only ever framed as a positive:

“Some men are born to plow fields, some live to be great physicians, others to be great kings. Me, I was born to serve you Arthur and I’m proud of that. And I wouldn’t change a thing.”

similarly, sometime after this arthur tells merlin to never change. in my opinion, a distinct aspect of a queerbaiting show is when the show places hints in the language used by the characters to say that a character might a) be queer in some way or b) have a relationship with someone of the same gender as them. but then when the fandom talks about this towards the actors, or the creators of the show, it’s immediately pushed away by creators and seen as a negative thing. or it’s completely ridiculous that the fandom would even think of such at thing.

people will argue that merlin’s devotion to arthur, and their relationship in general is what makes it queerbaiting. that by the sheer existence of some longwinded eye contact, or statements of friendship and devotion to each other that the show was queerbaiting its audience. but the difference is that merlin’s devotion to arthur and subsequently arthur’s devotion to merlin was never framed as a joke for the audience, or as a negative thing. it was written as something we are supposed to celebrate about merlin.

this show was never written with the intention for merlin and arthur to be together. it’s a retelling of arthurian myth with a bit of a twist in it. merlin and arthur are meant to be the main characters, but a romantic relationship was never on the table.

characters do remark on merlin’s loyalty to arthur, but it’s always in a questioning way, a why is this man so loyal to the king? what is the big reason? and, yeah, the Big Reason is his magic and their shared destiny. and yes it’s a valid interpretation that magic/destiny = sexuality, and merlin = gay (used as an umbrella term here). but that doesn’t mean it’s queerbaiting. it’s just subtext.

and subtext =/= queerbaiting.

#answered #long post

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swissmissficrecs · 4 years

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Most kudoed Sherlock (BBC) fics in 2019

Sherlock fics from 2019 with more than 1000 kudos on AO3*

1. Riptide Lover by jinglebell - 4011 kudos 114K, E, Johnlock, John/others The year is 1866. When John becomes swept overboard, he never expects to encounter a living creature of myth. When the merman absconds with John, the lost sailor must use every tool at his disposal to convince Sherlock not to kill him. But it seems that killing John Watson is not what the deadly, beautiful creature has in mind at all...

2. The Only Unproblematic Slash Fic by songlin - 2641 kudos 554 words, M, Johnlock I decided to write this after being OUTRAGED by the number of highly problematic and abusive fanfics I see on this site! Honestly I shouldn't even post it here at all, since AO3 is complicit in LITERAL SEX TRAFFICKING and ABUSE by allowing just anyone to post whatever they want. But it's the best website for posting fic. What am I supposed to do, raise money to pay for servers and use AO3's entirely, 100% open source code to start a new site that upholds REAL MORALITY? Anyways here's my fanfic.

3. A different kind of adventure by curiousbees (orphaned) - 1996 kudos 27K, E, Johnlock A series of rash experiments at twenty-three left omega Sherlock unable to form a bond or have a child. He never particularly cared, even if he sometimes caught himself wishing after meeting John. Now at 36, this inability is simply another part of who he is, like his intellect or his tendency for addiction. So after one night's loss of logic with his married best friend, he doesn't think to question it. In hindsight, he really shouldn't have taken it for granted.

4. What We Could Be by Mottlemoth - 1908 kudos 46K, E, Mystrade Ficlets and short stories featuring Mycroft Holmes and Greg Lestrade. Fluff, smut, humour, a little well-marked angst... and of course, lots and lots of romance.

5. East End Boy by Mottlemoth - 1620 kudos 192K, E, Mystrade "You fear becoming the plaything of a powerful man." Greg Lestrade might have risen to the rank of Detective Inspector, but he's still just an East End boy at heart. That's why this arrangement with Mycroft Holmes, power incarnate, is starting to feel so weird—if only Mycroft weren't so hard to resist.

6. Minutiae (Or 156 Things I Know About You) by AtlinMerrick - 1572 kudos 105K, E, Johnlock Here, in no particular order, are some of the things John has learned about Sherlock, and some of the things Sherlock has learned about John.

7. A Novel Romance by EventHorizon - 1511 kudos 357K, M, Mystrade Mycroft Holmes is a successful, yet reclusive, mystery writer. His agent nearly had to resort to torture to persuade the writer to allow a studio the rights to film one of his books. The studio wants the highly profitable and extremely sexy Greg Lestrade for the role, but Mycroft isn’t happy with the choice. The studio sends him to Mycroft’s remote country home to do some persuading. Once there, after getting to know the secretive, brilliant and slightly-eccentric Mycroft Holmes, Greg isn’t certain which ranks higher on his persuading list - him getting a role he dearly wants or him getting a man he dearly wants.

8. Sensory Science by sussexbound (SamanthaLenore) - 1439 kudos 80K, E, Johnlock John Watson has been invalided home from Afghanistan and is struggling with anxiety, depression, PTSD and insomnia, when an old friend from med school recommends something that might help: An ASMR YouTube Channel run by a friend. One session in and John is hooked, not only by the way the ASMR seems to calm him after nightmares, and help him sleep, but also by the mysterious man who runs it.

9. White Knight by DiscordantWords - 1360 kudos 69K, M, Johnlock Sherlock needs to fake a relationship for a case. He doesn't ask John.

10. Just To Hold You Close by sussexbound (SamanthaLenore) - 1324 kudos 70K, E, Johnlock When a woman is murdered and the last person to see her alive is recently invalided army vet turned reluctant (and prickly) professional cuddler, John Watson, Sherlock Holmes is pulled into a world of intimacy and intrigue he never could have imagined.

11. Proving A Point by elldotsee, J_Baillier - 1296 kudos 186K, E, Johnlock Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

12. Dearest Life by InnerSpectrum - 1265 kudos 276K, E, Johnlock / Warstan / Mystrade Sherlock is forced to marry John, a wealthy Alpha doctor, who is married to Mary, an infertile Beta. Both of whom hide dark secrets from each other.

13. Soul Mate by Mottlemoth - 1258 kudos 4K, T, Mystrade The words appeared on Mycroft's arm aged fourteen, foretelling the first thing his soul mate would ever say to him—and horrifying his respectable parents. He's now lived with the unfortunate words all his life, not certain that he even wishes to meet his soul mate if that's how the man talks. But when Sherlock befriends a Scotland Yard inspector named Lestrade, Mycroft might just change his mind.

14. Isosceles by SilentAuror - 1212 kudos 56K, E, Johnlock and Sherlock/OMC After solving a case for a major celebrity, Sherlock gets himself asked out. When John asks, he discovers that Sherlock has no intention of going, at least not until John agrees to coach him through whatever he might need to know for his date...

15. Beloved Baker Street by LadyLibby - 1164 kudos 203K, T, Sherlock/female!Reader / Warstan / Mollstrade / John/OMC Y/N Hudson grew up in America, daughter to a loving British mother and the leader of a notorious drug cartel in Florida. She grew into a brilliant and yet compassionate young woman with a penchant for solving mysteries. Accepted into the forensic department at Scotland Yard, Y/N never expected to be swept up into the whirlwind life of Sherlock Holmes....

16. It takes John Watson to save your life. by Sparkypip - 1135 kudos 105K, T, Gen A series of One shots where John saves Sherlock's life in so many ways.

17. The Bells of King's College by SilentAuror - 1131 kudos 64K, E, Johnlock It's only been two weeks since Eurus Holmes disrupted their lives when Mycroft sends John and Sherlock to Cambridge to pose as an engaged couple at a wedding show in the hopes of solving six unsolved deaths...

18. And if it begins anywhere, it begins here by Salambo06 - 1080 kudos 26K, E, Johnlock When Sherlock finds a letter in his bedroom, he doesn't expect to read the words of another version of himself from a parallel universe. What he expects even less is to read Sherlock Watson-Holmes at the bottom of the letter.

19. Pink, Purple and Blue by Mottlemoth - 1044 kudos 5K, T, Mystrade After eight years of failed marriage to a woman, with his boyfriends now a distant memory, Greg feels unwelcome in his own sexuality. Fallen between two factions, it seems like he belongs to neither. Comfort and reassurance come from an unlikely source.

20. Better Late Than Never by sussexbound (SamanthaLenore) - 1020 kudos 3K, T, Johnlock He suddenly wants John Watson out of his bedroom, out of his flat, out of his life, because he has been lying to himself these last few months, he realises. He doesn’t want John here, not with the way things are. He doesn’t want to keep being so careful, so generous, so, so…

* And now for the caveats:

- I’ve cut some of the summaries down because they were way too wordy. Sorry, authors. Write shorter summaries. It’s an AO3 blurb, not a dust jacket. - The kudo count is as of 2 January 2020. Obviously, fics that started posting earlier have the advantage, since they had a longer time to gather kudos. - For this list, I disregarded all fics tagged with multiple fandoms, since their popularity may be due to those other fandoms. - Fics may get - or not get - kudos for various reasons. This is not intended to be a rec list per se, and being on or off this list is not a statement on the quality of any given fic.

#rec list

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kajaono · 4 years

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Why you should watch CBS Elementary

This show had the misfortue to be released during BBC sherlock season 2 to 4 so many people didn’t paied attaention to it. Reasons why you should give it a try:

Plot

The story is a modern Sherlock Holmes adaptation.

Similar to BBC Sherlock it plays in modern 21st century but is set in New York. Sherlock is still british though. Season 1 starts with Sherlock just being released from a rehab center and Joan should help him to live a clean life without any drugs. During that time they start to solves cases together. Every season has up to 22 cases with a overall plot.

Sherlock Holmes:

Even though he is a tattooed ex-junkie (his words btw) he is closer to the ACD then many other modern Sherlocks (including BBC) ever where. He is a super nerd. He is grumpy, but once being your friend he would do anything for you. He is sarcastic and of course super clever and most importantly, ready to learn. He is ready to learn how to be more polite, how to open up to other people, how to be more human. Which is amazingly written and makes this show really personal, while never letting you forgot that Sherlock is a 1000x times cleverer then you. His drug addiction is a heavy story focus with him going to meetings, getting medals etc. Self care is one of the main center of this show. Also self grow and self acceptance. Also did I say that he is a nerd? Only major difference, he is really interest in women and really sexual active (nothing explicit of course) That, on the other hand, doesn’t mean he is 100% straight

Joan Watson:

Let me make that clear: Her being female doesn’t make her into Sherlock love interest. In contrast to ACD she was never part of the army but a professional surgeon. She quit the job to help people after being released from the rehab center. She is as sarcastic as Sherlock and a good match for him, because in the beginning she is the only one who can deal with Sherlock. Later she starts her own detective career and solves cases on her own, which is really refrshing to watch, because with practise she becomes nearly as good as Sherlock. Also her chinese roots are never forgotten and often refrerred to.

Canon references:

When i say that there are a lot of references then the are A LOT of referneces. One epsiodes is named: The geek interpreter (got it?), at one point Raffles gets mentioned, we see Sherlock in box clubs, having the Bakerstreet irregulars, Sherlock breeding bees and so much more. Some tiny details you don’t notice when you watch it the first time. It is a blast for canon fans to find all the little hints and easter eggs.

Representation:

The focus of the show is not on LGBTQ representation, but one of the orginial acd!canon characters is trans (guess who) and there are more non-white people in the cast then white people. At one point Sherlock is dating a disabled woman and it is multiple times hinted that Joan is not straight (for marcus and Sherlock as well btw, see below). The show is diverse in its own way. In a way that you can not live in NY without getting in touch with LGBTQ and disabled and people of color, without necessarily yourself belonging to one of the groups... and i mean Joan and Marcus Bell are both non white. So for a crime show the show is doing pretty good and imo a lot better then BBC Sherlock because it allways treats their diverse characters good.

Shipping

Normally I am: Joanlock/Johnlock.” Here i am more on board of: OT3!” but it actually doesn’t matter because this show treats all ships with respect which makes shipping a lot of fun in this fandom. Of course you have plenty of nice Joanlock moments, but also Joan x Marcus, Sherlock x Marcus (especially in season 6) and Sherlock x Joan x Marcus. The whole thing gets even better that it gets multiple times implied that both Sherlock, Joan and Marcus swing both or all ways. But also shipping them with other side characters in fun in this show

Nerdy Humor:

... just because. Seriously, watch the show!

Clyde:

Yeah, did i mentioned the pet tortoise that Mrs hudson is knitting little sweater for?

Also the fashion is amazing, Lucy Lui in a lot of suits:

You see i have a lot to say about that show. It is my favorite Sherlock Holmes adaptation, with also a well written Kitty Winter, as well as a lot of surprises for Moriaty and other characters.

I could go on and on why this show is amazing, but just watch it for yourself... also the intro is the most beautiful i know.

And please do not get repulsed by the aboslut horrible promo pictures

#cbs elementary #elementary #tv show recommendations

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marta-bee · 4 years

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More Mary Thoughts

@wizardlysherlok replied to this post on AGRA/Agra parallels in Doyle-cannon and BBC-canon:

it feels like if AGRA was empty of full, it wouldn’t be right for john neither way: if it was full, it would the the great betrayal and also the “she wasn’t supposed to be like that”, the wife who lied immensely to her husband and(for god sakes) shot his bf. If it was empty it wouldn’t work either because it was boring and the same life john was trying to scape because it was making him unhappy...conclusion : Mary does not work for john in every way

Ooh, a chance to talk about Mary generally! I’ve apparently got just enough codeine still in my system, and it’s close enough to the witching hour, that this seems like a fun topic rather than the don’t-poke-the-bear dread that usually falls on me when I speak her name in this fandom. Here’s hoping I don’t regret this come tomorrow.

Even in Doyle canon, I never particularly liked Mary’s story, which is meant as a judgment on Doyle and not some fictional woman. She’s clearly introduced because Watson --being a romantic-- needs a romantic partner, and for a whole host of historical reasons Doyle felt like it needed to be a woman. Any woman would do, apparently. And even without getting into issues of whether this is akin to queerbaiting, it also just makes for a very boring character IMO. Mary is the equivalent of a Bond girl : more saintly than sex-appeal, perhaps, but who only really exists as an object the male characters get to react against. There’s precious little of Mary specifically that makes any difference to SIGN.

I do like some of the grace notes Doyle gives her in later stories. I think there’s a reference in one of the stories that she had a reputation for being both kind and clever and women from her neighborhood came to her to help them solve their little problems, a sort of more everyday vision of Sherlock Holmes. But at least in SIGN she’s a walking trope and frustratingly little more.

I think the Granada series was wise to leave her out almost entirely. (She only appears in the movie version of SIGN, and there is only a client.) She just would have been a distraction to the story they were trying to tell. In the RDJ/Jude Law movies she’s actually brilliantly done, somehow challenging and supporting their relationship at the same time. She’s also witty and daring and would not seem at all out of place in a Jane Austen novel with all that witty back-and-foth, and all three of them have this great chemistry. If ever there was an adaptation that screamed both Johnlock and Johnlockary (and of course Warstan), it’s this one.

Goodness, we need more fanfic about Kelly Reilly’s Mary. I need to write her again. She’s brilliant.

Which brings us to the BBC. I’m going to be very brave and say my biggest problem with her isn’t that she wedged herself into John’s and Sherlock’s relationship and somehow came away with the right to dictate its terms, even posthumously. It’s not even that she lied to her husband and manipulated him, endangering him and their child in the process; or that she shot Sherlock, or was an assassin who apparently went mercenary. All of that could be really interesting if done well! And really, I can think of storylines that would actually justify quite a lot of that. Even shooting, even killing Sherlock, even not being apologetic about it after the fact- I could write a story where that character made sense as a romantic opposite to John. I actually got about 10,000 words into one attempt, though I never finished or published it because the fandom was pretty toxic to anyone interested in a more shades-of-grey ersion of Mary at the time.

No, what really drives me up the wall with BBC’s version of Mary is they don’t really settle on any one version of her. Actually in each of the five episodes she appears in, there’s this radically different version of who she are and what motivates her: supportive friend; bride; sociopath assassin; government agent; martyr. The most sympathetic take on that I can give is that Sherlock himself is trying to figure her out and can’t make sense of her so keeps trying one mold after another. But whatever the intent, the effect is that Mary’s just ridiculously muddled for me, and I never really connected to her because I didn’t understand her. I’m not sure the show-runners did either. Seeing what Moffat in particular did with women characters in Doctor Who makes me think he genuinely struggles to find them interesting if they aren’t really... extra, for lack of a better word. John and Sherlock, being men, had their BAMF moments but also a psychology that actually made sense along somewhat normal terms; Mary had to be a super-sekrit assassin, and a rogue that was targeted by a media mogul, and the hero who saved Holmes and then did it again from beyond the grave. All of which would have been fine if it actually came from a coherent characterization. But BBC’s Mary was all BAMF and stunning reveals and little to no coherence that made that make sense, so her character never really developed any kind of a reality for me. My brain couldn’t make sense of her, so my heart never latched on either. In the end I was just left confused and frustrated

Even all these years later! I still don’t know what to make of her, and that’s just bad writing. I would love to have a Mary who lied from start to finish with John “Trust Issues” Watson, or who shot Sherlock to the chest where it somehow made sense. That could be fascinating. It’s not what we got, though; at least it’s not what I was able to get out of the show.

Here’s another thing that would be fascinating, and I’d really love to see in some adaptation; even this one, though I don’t think we’ll get it. Mary Morstan in 1895 makes some sort of sense even with a suspiciously close friendship between Holmes and Watson, because male friendships operated in a very different realm than heterosexual marriages did. There were different kinds of intimacies in that time, I think. But when you bring the characters into the modern world, it eems like a super-close friendship like Holmes and Watson seem to have, one that seem to emotionally resemble marriage even if there’s no physical/sexual component, would be a challenge to what any self-respecting modern woman would tolerate from her husband. I don’t mean because it makes John gay, and of course married people can have friends, but there’s something about John and Sherlock that in the modern world strays damned close to emotional infidelity.

I mean, how can you have that without either weakening the relationship between John and Sherlock, or making Mary cuckolded in some sense? Now throw into the mix in this particular adaptation, even before Mary, John and Sherlock had a ... unique relationship. John would date and have sex (or not), Sherlock would be stuck in seemingly perpetual celibacy, but if Sherlock dared to date (and I think this would be true for a man as well as a woman) John goes into a disbelieving jealous rage. This strikes me as not normal male friendship, though it’s not romantic or sexual either. It’s queerplatonic af on Sherlock’s side, increasingly stretching the bounds of what can be called “platonic”, and for John, it’s kind of a monodirectional monogamy in at least an emotional sense. I mean, the man went and got married, but we all saw his reaction when Sherlock dared to (seemingly) date someone else.

Now throw a modern woman into that mix, trying to marry and start a family with one half of a duo in that truly fucked-up dynamic. Imagine what it would be like for her to exist in that world. You can imagine polyamory of some variety, or jealousy, or a very altered view from what the mainstream imagnes are the expectations of married life, or whatever spin you like to put on it.

I guarantee you -- if done well -- it would be fascinating. And I’d very much like to see it. Or read it, or something. If you want to make that woman as much of a danger junkie as John, as much of a skilled, professional killer, wehther on the government’s payroll or a disillusioned former agent who refused to follow orders and was forced to “branch out” or even just a true psychopath who was utterly self-motivated and ruthless but still wanted to protect John or at least what John represented to her?

Well, that could be fascinating, too. Even more so. There’s just one catch: you’ve got to actually tell the story. They never seemed to get around to that, and I think I’m still more than a bit bitter.

..... And apparently I’m rambling. Thanks for allowing me to talk about her a bit. I’ll shut up now. :-)

#sherlock holmes #mary morstan #marta blathers

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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years

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Hi Steph, so, uhh, two things; dumb question: WHY in the world are S5 Sherlock BBC discussions popping up again right now? Like, the show got a pretty solid ending-feely-ending, strange/shitty as it was. Also, I never ever listened to Sherlock soundtracks on spotify but now, while studying, it threw the very last soundtrack of S4 at me after a classical Handel piece. I instantly started crying so uhh time to leave the fandom again I guess, I'll be back sometime. Take care 💖

Hi Lovely!! Aww, I still get lots of feels for the Sherlock Soundtracks, though I actually don’t have S4′s on my iTunes so I don’t listen to it as often as the tracks from 1 to TAB, LOL. But the music is lovely

With regards to the recurrence of S5 suddenly popping up, I can pinpoint it to a few things:

Partly my fault on my own blog because I brought it up again with this first post I made on New Year’s Eve because I wanted it out before Dracula. Since then people seem to be wanting to put in their thoughts as well in Nonny Messages to me, which is totally cool! Just takes me awhile to answer them because it’s been so long since I’ve had to do meta-style answers LOL. And it’s interesting to me to talk about now since most people know that I’m not very biased on it anymore.

Outside of my blog: Ben’s hair is growing out so he MUST be filming Sherlock soon (yes, seriously, this is the one I’ve seen the most)! I theorize on this post here that it’s very much unlikely, plus Ben has never had a problem wearing (awful) wigs for Sherlock, so honestly, his hair growing out has never been a good indicator of Sherlock filming.

Dracula is done filming, and there were (apparently) easter eggs in Dracula for Sherlock, so they MUST now prepping for filming S5! Again, no. Gatiss is doing some filmwork himself for Operation Mincemeat, and Moffat is currently in pre-production for Jekyll, according to IMDb.

Allegedly, the Dale P*ke troll is active again, [1] [2] possibly under another name, and another prominent blog was heavily promoting their stuff. Which is totally fine, but I just want people to be wary about any “clues” coming from “dale p*ke”; they put out a “not a fanvideo” recently and it apparently contains clues.

A few more of the Sherlock Holmes stories enters into public domain in the US this year, namely The Three Garridebs, which is the story many TJLCer’s and Johnlockers alike have suspected Mofftiss wanted to properly adapt but couldn’t do in their own way until they could air it in both the US and UK without problems, I believe. Not 100% on how the copyrights for filming works in relation to “can we air it in the US or not without paying something to the copyright holders”, I’m not sure, LOL.

And It’s been about the normal time frame between seasons for Sherlock, so people think it will just... drop on us without us knowing it was filmed, I guess LOL. Although, many still hold out hope for the “Secret Episode” / “secret season” to release soon. I’ve speculated on this blog that the secret episode was already filmed during the filming of S4, and will be released as the “real Season 4″. Which I still kinda lowkey hope for, but yeah, the occam’s razor part of my brain is like, “No, Steph, no.”

It’s fun to speculate about S5, so I guess we’ve reached that part in the fandom where we USUALLY have another episode to speculate about... but we don’t so we’re just trying to cope, LOL.

And, totally not a real reason but I literally am keeping it up there to troll everyone: My countdown timer is still going on my blog. 1102 Days and counting since S4 aired XD XD

Hope that helps, and if anyone knows any other reasons why S5 talk has picked up, let me know! I usually just stay within a little corner of blogs because there’s a lot of fandom gatekeeping away from here so I just... don’t leave LOL.

#steph replies #mofftiss #s5 speculations #my thoughts #s5 and beyond #dreamingbrownie

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azuresins · 4 years

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This is so out of the blue but one day I might just snap and explain how I think BBC sherlock fell and survived the fall, why it was never actually explained in the show, and also, why it was collectively decided to be scrapped and the last episode was so fucking terrible and badly botched when it could have been really good. I don’t want to explain the actual theory because I know if I just say things; that’s not enough and I don’t know if it’s really worth going through all the effort to gather the evidence. I just might snap a little, because it’s a welcoming distraction from the apocalypse. See the thing is; I would have loved to write theories and participate in that fandom when it was in it’s hay day and I started to bark up that tree; but I remember what the BBC Sherlock fandom was like, and why I backed out of it when I did. That’s a big hell no from me; I can hardly stand on my own theories and analysis about Kuro. Anyway: I think sometime during the hayday fans figured out how Sherlock survived and where the plot was going, the writers couldn’t stand that and so they had to change things around and it ruined the show. That my theory and I will explain. I was sincerely invested in that show like so many people, and there’s so many faucets of that show that were really well-written and very teasing-- teasing that bigger things were to come. Anyone can say what they will about the writing, but simply put... if it wasn’t interesting, then no one would have watched it. It was madly successful for a reason, and it is honestly hard to write a show that a large amount of people find interesting and want to keep watching (try it sometime). The Ethics in the end were bad, and I get that’s why people got so bent out of shape; the writers made their money, and then they gave up. I loved the interpretation of a modern-Sherlock Holmes that they were going for, I was especially fond of the fact that they decided to make his drug use a PROBLEM and not a super-power like it was in the books; and I felt that a lot of plot holes and little hang-ups, could have been hammered out in the last season if they really wanted to hammer them out. Irene Alder certainly had some ethic issues surrounding her character but I wont bother getting into that, other people have explained it already. The problem is that during the hiatus, so many people wrote their own theories about how he did it, why he did it, what’s going on-- and the writers didn’t anticipate someone would ACTUALLY figure out the twist (and unfortunately a lot of people thought it was stupid) that would be the backbone of the show, going forward. In fact a lot of fans thought the theory was stupid and cliche’d because, yeah, it is a bit cliche. But that’s the thing about Cliche’s: they still work. If you do it right. And the big issue is: they swapped the cliche for an even WORSE cliche and thought people would prefer it to what they initially had written/planned before. It’s not a secret that a huge majority of people felt the show was bad for two reasons 1.) the last season was garbage because of the sister 2.) it didn’t end in JohnLock and therefore it was all queerbaited garbage I’m here to tell you it’s not garbage (well the last one might not have an excuse) for the first reason; it’s garbage because they didn’t follow through with the ending that was initially written and as a result; evidence of the original ending is still in the show. You can almost pinpoint the turning point when the writers changed their minds and it’s even more annoying. Because someone figured it out already... and it directly ties to the fall. And I’m just sitting here like... The only reason why this show ended up the way that it did, was because someone online figured out how he did it, and they couldn’t STAND it. Pride got in the way; and they couldn’t stand how many people online just found this theory to be stupid, that it would be the worst thing to happen ever, and so they did the worst possible thing and changed it to something even worse. It was like a punishment. But what they changed it to was SO MUCH WORSE and I think they vastly underestimated how cool it would have been had they stuck to their guns; and it would have tied up every single plothole. Because now the issue is there’s a huge one left and it’s going to go forever unanswered: Why. The fuck. Would Moriarty... prerecord himself in advance for Eurus, help her set up “the final problem” KNOWING Sherlock would live to see her and survive the fall, anyway. Why make him jump and delay him, in the first place and kill himself, give up his entire criminal empire for nothing and with no payoff other than taking her word for it? What would that actually accomplish in the end, if Sherlock wasn’t actually dead and everyone of importance tied to Eurus also knew, he wasn’t dead? Most assume it’s because Moriarty isn’t actually dead; and while I don’t think he is, and they’re not asking themselves the right questions-- he knew Sherlock wouldn’t be dead, either. So what. Was the point. Of the fall. What did that do? Why set it up like that and why go through so much effort for something that didn’t even matter, because Sherlock’s reputation was restored anyway and he’d just come back to life at some point regardless? It kept me up all night, wondering what the fuck happened here... until I figured out what the fuck happened here. Moffat and Gatiss are... notoriously guilty for sending people mixed-messages and mixed signals during an on-going popular show. They’ve written back-up endings and all sorts of things in case fans aren’t going in a direction that they like and there’s evidence of this. They just forgot to tie up a lot of loose ends and they honestly don’t care. If we ever do get another Sherlock Special... I hope it’s a one-off and they do not attempt to address what the hell they’ve done or try to fix this plot hole because it’s wholly unfixable, at this point. They can make Moriarty not-dead and stick to the explanation that, I believe, is the only reasonable one as to how HE is alive but they’re also going to have to do something extremely strange in addition, that they weren’t planning with the initial ending. Sherlock-.... it’s just. Ugh, it’s all so poorly botched and for nothing and I think that’s why I’m so irritated. The way they set this up ... I can’t see how anything taking place post Season 4, would make any kind of tangible sense or be good, unless Sherlock and John were really old. Like in their 60s, maybe. Honestly Johnlock might be the only way god damn way to resurrect that fucking show. TLDR; Someone figured out the ending and twists and explinations, they hated it; so they had to make fun of it in the show and change everything around.... they second-guessed themselves and took a piss because they made all the money they were going to get from it anyway and honestly. And they just didn’t really care. As a result a lot of plot holes that were supposed to be resolved in the grand finale, didn’t, because they changed the way it was supposed to end. It was all so avoidable. God damn it. If I had the time I’d just rewrite the entire thing Mid-Season 3, jesus christ. Sorry if anyone read to the end of this... angry ramble about BBC Sherlock I’m still bitter. I loved that show. >_> It haunts me it didn’t get the ending it was supposed to and I can barely stand watching it seeing leftover clues to what we were supposed to get. And the worst part? I don’t think THAT MANY FANS actually even READ the damn theory or paid it much mind.

#not kuro #this is a long ramble about bbc sherlock actually so dont feel the need to read it #Kuroshitsuji is a fav to theorize and meta but its a lot more ... tame compared to the travesty that is bbc sherlock #jesus h christ that show haunts me

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theemptyquarto · 4 years

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Abandoned WIP

Warstan (but John got killed off before the story starts) and purely platonic Sherlock & Mary. Quite AU... John and Mary get together before Sherlock jumped off of Bart’s. Maybe a little bit of hinted unrequited Johnlock, I honestly can’t remember if I was going there with this fic. A “Mary is the new Watson” retelling of “The Adventure of the Empty House,” rated T. This was written before S3 happened and I fell in love with BBC Mary and she actually made me view BBC John as an interesting character in his own right and I rejiggered my alignments.

I’m going to rant here, just briefly, about how ACD’s Mary Morstan is probably one of the most wronged-by-their-author characters that I can think of, which is why I started writing this fic where she takes the lead.

She appears for the first time in the second-ever (authorially, not chronologically) Sherlock Holmes story, “The Sign of the Four,” and is delightful. Watson falls hard in love right away and acts like a huge dweeb about her, she’s courageous, clever, and kind. Maybe without all the panache of the later Irene Adler, but a more traditionally Victorian heroine for our more traditionally Victorian junior protagonist. Her next appearance, “The Adventure of the Crooked Man,” is significantly more tangential, but she sets the action of the story in play and is shown to be a helpful, kind figure.

And then all of a sudden Conan Doyle ships her off to visit her mother (she was established as an orphan), stops using her at all, and finally kills her off.

Not even on the page. Between books. And it’s mentioned so tangentially in two lines of “The Adventure of the Empty House” that you can easily miss it if you aren’t looking for it.

(Incidentally this sort of shit is why ACD fandom can’t agree on how many wives Watson had or who the subject of his “sad bereavement” is. The number ranges from 1-13.)

Why, Artie? Why did you do that? I mean I get if you want to park Watson back at Baker Street you probably do have to off her but you were a fairly good hack and doing it this way made you give up the opportunity to have some sort of emotional payoff in your stories. Especially since you later introduce another wife character who is in no way distinct from Mary (a niche component of ACD fandom thinks that Mary didn’t die at all and Watson “abandoning (Holmes) for a wife,” was him and Mary reconciling after an estrangement.)

Anyway. Don’t create cool characters and then kill them for no good reason. That’s my point.

_____________

The Empty Flat (Mary)

I had been widowed for three months and was rather surprised at how badly I was doing with it. The snug three-bedroom garden flat in Maida Vale had been the perfect size for a not-quite-young couple planning on children. Now it seemed vast and empty and utterly, utterly silent. When I slept, which wasn’t all that much, I did it on the sofa. Our bed still smelled faintly of his aftershave, and I couldn’t stand either to sleep there or to wash the sheets. Arthur, the blue point Siamese cat who I had bought into the marriage, would curl up on my feet and awaken me with his yowls in the morning.

To some extent I had been able to occupy my mind with work, and the requirements of my job had kept me more or less a functional adult. But the summer holidays had begun a week previous, and I was thus thrown entirely on my own resources, which were scant. What family I had left were all back in America, and the friends I had made in England seemed to have melted away since John’s death. Some days, I thought that this was due to the universal impulse to avoid reminders of mortality. Other days I decided it was more likely due to the fact that I deleted their emails and declined to answer their phone calls.

The truth, as always, was probably somewhere in the middle.

Whatever the cause, my life was empty. I ate when I remembered that I was meant to. I wore pajamas all day. I left the flat when I ran out of cat food, and at night I would turn on the tv and stare at it without paying attention until I finally sank into oblivion.

Presumably it was on one of those descents into the maelstrom of crap British late-night TV that I first took note of the murder of Ronald Adair. The dead man was vaguely familiar to me, though I had never watched any of his shows personally. He was a scion of one of those impoverished but very old-and-noble families that the English keep on out of sentiment. Showing unusual initiative for one of his class, he’d made a success of himself by appearing on a famous reality show, then on the “celebrity” version of that show, and parlaying that into one of those mysterious but apparently quite lucrative careers that consist mostly of having your picture taken.

And now, he was dead, shot in the back of the head in his own bedroom on Park Lane.

The story struck me, for some reason. John, when he’d been alive, used to take four daily papers and half a dozen weeklies, and I had not cancelled them yet. I plucked a week’s worth out of the recycling where I had tossed them, unread, and scanned through them for articles about the murder.

Ronald Adair had been alone in his bedroom, drinking neat whiskey and updating twitter, when he died. His last tweet (@JustLukeyA, “LOL C U @ Ibiza”) had been sent at 10:11 in the evening. His personal assistant had heard the sound of breaking glass, broken down the locked door that led into the bedroom, seen his body, and dialed 999 by 10:17. The bullet had been a large caliber hollow point round that had done severe damage to the back of his skull, and he had most likely died almost instantly.

The entire affair was mysterious. While the police hadn’t released any real statements, the personal assistant had been the only other person in the house at the time of the shooting, and had been released after questioning. This would suggest the shot had been fired from outside, but the window in Adair’s bedroom, while open, was on the fourth floor. There was no evidence to suggest anyone had climbed to the window, meaning that the shot had come from somewhere outside.

This made no sense at all to the gossip rags. The window faced directly over Hyde Park, and any level shot would have had to come from over a mile away. And shooting from ground level would have been impossible: the Park was open, reasonably crowded given the warmth of the summer evening, and no one had heard a thing. The American embassy was less than two hundred yards away, and even its overblown security hadn’t noted any unusual activity. Essentially, it was impossible that he could have been shot, and yet there he was.

As I read through the papers, I thought how John would have gone through them at the breakfast table to try and figure out what had happened. Although his professional interest in solving mysteries had died with Sherlock, he never lost his fascination with the more arcane sorts of crime. He would have loved this one, and I could imagine the crinkles that would form around his eyes as he would describe the possible motives, mechanisms, and solutions. It was a Sunday, and I suspected that he would have wheedled me into taking our normal long walk in the direction of the crime scene. I’d have teased him, said he was morbid, but I’d have gone, and he’d have hypothesized happily for a while.

I could so clearly imagine it, and it made me smile, despite myself. It had been difficult to like Sherlock Holmes, and very difficult to deal with the fact that their association put John into danger on a regular basis. Yet, now that they were both gone, I found myself forgiving every thoughtless insult and sleepless lonely night the detective ever gave me, since he had made John so happy.

Wishing to hang on to my happy memory, I decided, abruptly, to take the walk over to Park Lane myself, just as John and I would have done. It was past time I actually started doing things again. I would go and see where Ronald Adair had died, and I would try and solve the mystery, and I would remember John. Quickly, before I could change my mind, I showered, dressed, and left the flat.

July, in London, is one of the few times of the year when it approaches being warm enough, and it was a beautiful day. I took the long route around Kensington Park, since a straight shot would have taken me directly past St. Mary’s Hospital, where John had worked - and where his body had been taken. The trees were brilliant green, and it seemed everyone in London was sunbathing or playing football or falling in love around me.

Ronald Adair’s flat was adjacent to the Mariott, in one of the converted brick Georgian edifices that infest all of Park Lane. I had forgotten to take note of the number, but it was easily identifiable by the flowers and stuffed animals heaped up on the low fence that surrounded it. There were a fair number of gawkers, and by asking, I found which window Adair had been shot through. I was stumped, for the moment, but thinking logically, decided the best route was to see from where I could have made the shot. The busy street and the shrubbery borders of the park being ruled out, necessarily, I confined my attention to the sidewalks. I took pictures on my phone, and paced around, and tried to work out the trigonometry involved.

Then I stopped. There were half a dozen locations from which the shot could have come. It would be the hell of a task: the window was small and high, but if it were dark out and the shooter were aiming into a lit room, it would be possible. I had hunted a lot as a kid, and might have been able to make it with a rifle. John, who had been an excellent marksman, might have been able to do it with a handgun. But to do it quickly enough to avoid notice in a busy neighborhood, to do it silently? That was impossible.

All facts that were undoubtedly obvious to the police. If John had been with me, it would have been a fun little mathematical exercise. We’d have followed it with a walk home, dinner at the pub on the end of our street, and making tipsy love in the light of a summer sunset in our flat. But he wasn’t with me, and he never would be again, and the day would end as all days did, alone with the cat and the television and the dark. The whole thing was a pointless, futile exercise - a little girl’s attempt to play make-believe.

I knew, suddenly, that I was going to cry. It happened a lot, and it wasn’t an experience I wanted to share with all London, so I spun around to depart and slammed full-force into a souvenir hawker who had been just behind me. Grace has always eluded me. The pole she carried, hung with ballcaps and other tat, fell to the ground, and she gave an indignant Cockney squawk of “Oi! Watch it!” I bent to retrieve her pole and handed it back to her, mumbling, “Sorry, sorry,” and fled outright into the park, keeping my eyes firmly on the ground.

Leaving the path, I hurried through the park, not really aware of where I was going as long as it was quieter and emptier. I reached a dim copse free of children, tourists, and lovers, where I sat down, and let the tears flow.

It’s easy to see why the ancient Egyptians thought that the heart, and not the brain, was the source of love. True sadness isn’t felt in the head, it’s felt in the chest, and I could feel every choked beat of my heart as I sobbed and gasped and tried to catch my breath for what seemed like ages. But from a pragmatic point of view, I’m sure I didn’t go for long. Crying is too tiring to keep up for much time. Of course, I had come out without any tissues, so I wiped my aching eyes and puffy face on the corner of my cardigan.

At that moment, the hawker walked into the copse.

“There you are!” she called out, “Wondered where you’d got to!”

I sighed. “Look,” I said, “I’m sorry about knocking into you. It was an accident. If I’ve damaged anything I will be happy to pay-“

“Na, na, love. Just a load of rubbish. Can’t hurt it if it isn’t worth anything to start with. But I saw your face and thought you might be in some trouble.” The woman was elderly, with a mop of dyed auburn hair and a thick Docklands accent which I would love to render in text, if it didn’t look so silly. But her blue eyes were kind, and she handed me a miniature water bottle marked with “Souvenir of Hyde Park.”

“I’m – fine. I just got a little upset. Thank you.” The water was lukewarm and tasted faintly of plasticizers, but it soothed my irritated throat.

The woman seemed to take this remark as an invitation, and placing her wares on the grass, sat next to me. I have lived in London since I was twenty-five years old and I could tell what was coming. There are two main personality types among the English: the type that is intensely uncomfortable with any sort of emotion, and the type that delights in every possible expression of sentiment and wishes to hear all about it. They’re like New Yorkers in that respect.

Apparently I had found one of the latter variant.

“You get to see a bit of everything, my line of work,” she said, digging a battered packet of Silk Cut out of her pocket, “Care for one?”

I had officially quit smoking years ago, when I finished my doctorate, and stopped even having the occasional one when I started dating John, since he loathed the things. Just at that moment, though, it sounded like heaven. “Yes, thank you.”

She shook two out of the packet, and passed one to me before getting out a transparent plastic lighter. She lit hers, and then handed over the lighter. A brief breeze kicked up, and I bowed my head over the tiny flame, trying to make the cigarette catch, as she said, quietly, “Now, Mary, you need to remain calm.”

The cigarette caught, and I took that first delicious, poisonous drag, before the fact that this stranger knew my name really filtered into my mind.

I looked over, and where the woman had been, sat Sherlock Holmes.

The Sign of Four (Sherlock)

The art of disguise, as I have often remarked, is in context far more than it is in costume. Truly approximating the appearance of someone else is only possible from a distance: in ordinary situations major alterations to the face appear theatrical and attract more attention than not. If, instead, you select a character who would be entirely appropriate in the context in which he appears, you need make only minor changes to your own appearance. The observer’s mind will then do ninety per cent of your work and you will be de facto invisible. I intend to write a monograph on the topic when I have the time.

Mary Morstan may have had some subconscious understanding of this. On the occasion of our first meeting, I observed that she was wearing a carefully calibrated disguise, although I doubt she would have referred to it as such. Very high heels, but an intentionally prim and boxy suit, severe makeup and hairstyle, heavy-framed glasses. She introduced herself with a flat, middle-American accent, only slightly sharpened by years of living in London.

Just after she arrived, John walked into the flat, his arms filled with carrier bags of groceries, which he set down with great rapidity in order to shake her hand.

“Mary Morstan, my associate, John Watson. Miss Morstan,” I said, “Teaches maths at Westminster School.”

She stared at me when I said that. John, I noted, didn’t let go of her hand when her attention was distracted.

“How do you know that?” she asked.

I sighed, though in truth I always enjoy it when they ask for the reasoning.

“You’ve obviously come straight from work, meaning that you work Saturday mornings. Chalk dust on the right cuff, which is worn in a way that you only ever see with people who spend a great deal of time writing on blackboards. There are traces of red ink on the heel of your hand and a splotch near the tip of your index finger. Thus, teacher.”

As I’d expected, she dropped John’s hand to examine her own.

“You took the tube to get here, and in those shoes you probably didn’t walk far before you boarded at Westminster station: there’s construction digging up the street there and the fresh splashes of yellowish mud on your left stocking are quite distinctive. Half a dozen schools in that area, but your ensemble suggests older students and moneyed parents. Hence, Westminster School.”

The last was a gloss, as her ensemble suggested nothing of the sort. It said quite plainly “I teach older boys.” Her skirt was unfashionably long, her blouse was buttoned up to the neck, and her jacket was boxy in order to conceal her rather large breasts. Having attended an all-boys senior school, I recognized the style, and the motivation behind it. But since I was undoubtedly going to receive the ”abrasive” and “show-off” lectures after her departure, I saw no reason to add the “inappropriate” one, and simplified the matter.

“And… maths?”

I sighed again, this time sincerely. The easy ones are never any fun.

“There’s a graphics calculator in the right pocket of your overcoat.”

At that, she laughed. Giggled, really. But almost instantly, she caught herself, cleared her throat, and dropped back into the lower vocal register that she had previously affected. Everything I could ever have wished to know about Mary Morstan’s character was thus revealed in the first five minutes of our interview. Nature had given her a respectable brain and deposited it in a body that was small, blonde, and rather fluffy. Her disguise did a reasonable job of concealing this, but she would spend the rest of her life trying to make people take her seriously.

“That’s amazing,” she said, “I read in your blog, Doctor Watson-“

“John, please,” he interrupted. Oh dear.

“John. I read about this kind of analysis but it’s remarkable to see it in real life.”

“Can be a bit creepy if you’re not used to it, though,” John replied, which I thought extremely unfair, given that I had been very polite and not mentioned that her teeth demonstrated her adolescent bulimia or that her fingers and eyebrows strongly implied a mild obsessive-compulsive condition. I maintained my dignity, and said only,

“Thank you, John. State your case, Miss Morstan.”

“Right. Well. I suppose I have to go back to the beginning. My father, Thomas Morstan, was English. I was actually born in Sussex, but when I was two my parents divorced and my mother and I moved back to America. I never got to see him much, growing up, but he always kept in touch, by phone and letters, and then by email when that came around. Sent birthday gifts and that sort of thing. Ten years ago I finished grad school, and he offered to buy me a ticket to come and meet him in London. I hadn’t seen him for several years at that point and I didn’t have a job so, obviously, I said yes.”

“Mmm. Continue.”

“He’d booked us rooms at the Langham, which I thought was much too expensive for him, but he said it was a treat for my graduation.”

“What was his profession, then?”

“He started off in the Army, but he resigned his commission after the first Gulf War and joined the diplomatic service.”

“As?”

“An attaché. Just an office job, basically. Visas and helping distressed tourists and so on.”

“And his rank in the army?”

“Ah, he ended as a Lieutenant Colonel, I believe.

“Go on.”

“I flew to London, expecting him to pick me up at Heathrow, but he wasn’t there. No answer when I tried to call him. I took a cab to the Langham and asked if he’d checked in, and he had, but there was no answer when they called up to his room. Eventually they agreed to open the door – he’d had a heart attack a few years before, and I was getting very upset - and all of his things were in there, but no sign of him. I never saw him again.”

“Interesting. Did the police investigate?” John was patting her shoulder, sympathetically, which seemed excessive given that the death (and yes, it was death, almost certainly) was ten years in the past. She should have been well beyond it by this point. But upon closer observation, I could see that he was right: a slight swimminess around the eyes and the set of the jawbone indicating gritted teeth. Oedipal complex. She replied, calmly enough.

“Yes. They didn’t find anything.”

“Of course they didn’t. They never do. Did your father have any acquaintances in London?”

“Only one that they could find: a Major Sholto. He had no idea Dad was even in town.”

“Mmm. I doubt a disappearance ten years ago would incline you to seek the services of a consulting detective today. What has changed?”

Morstan cleared her throat and opened the battered leather attache case that had been sitting at her feet. From a manila folder, she removed a broadsheet page of yellowing newsprint, with a quarter-page sized advertisement in the upper right hand corner circled in red ink. The paper was the Omaha World-Herald, the date was May 4, 2004, and the advertisement simply stated:

“If Mary Morstan, daughter of Captain Thomas Morstan, will contact the address below, it will be to her advantage” followed by an email address.

“Half a dozen of my friends from high school saw this and forwarded it on to me.”

“And what did you do?”

“I sent them an email. I said I was Thomas Morstan’s daughter, that I’d relocated to London, and asked what they wanted.”

“Any reply?”

“No. And when I sent on a follow-up a few days later, it bounced. It was just Hotmail… could have been anyone. But then a few days after that, I received this in the mail.”

Reaching back into the attaché case, she pulled out a small pouch made of black jeweler’s felt. Loosening the drawstring, she tipped something small and square into her palm, and passed it over to me.

I could hear John inhale sharply through is teeth as I reached for my lens. Mary said, wryly, “Yes, that’s pretty much how I felt. It’s a three carat, blue-white, flawless diamond. Probably dug up in India, if that’s any help. It’s worth around $150,000, retail.”

“Unusual cut,” I murmured, looking at the magnified lump of crystallized charcoal, “It’s called the-“

“The old mine cut,” interrupted Mary, “Meaning it was most likely faceted sometime between 1700 and 1900. I know. After the police gave it back to me, I had it appraised at Sotheby’s.”

“You went to the police again?”

“I did.”

“Any good?”

“Not really. They hung onto it a while, but nobody reported any similar gems lost or stolen, and then they gave it back. Apparently it’s “not illegal to be given things.” So after that I was on my own. But I still didn’t feel right about it, so I had the appraisal to see if a real professional could find anything more useful.”

“Well done,” said John, heartily. He was in a fair way to make an idiot of himself over this woman, although she seemed flattered by the compliment.

“Thank you,” Mary replied, “And then, the thing is, Mr. Holmes, that it didn’t stop with this. Every year since then, on May 14, I get another one of these in my mail. I’ve changed addresses and it didn’t make a difference. Perfectly matched, very expensive diamonds. I left the rest of them in my safe deposit box: even carrying one of them around makes me edgy. And then, yesterday, there was this.”

She passed over a letter. Fine, high linen content paper, no watermark, 10-point… Trebuchet font, printed on an HP laserjet printer. It read, “Be at the third pillar from the left outside the Lyceum Theatre on Saturday, July 9 at seven o'clock. If you are distrustful, bring two friends. You are a wronged woman, and shall have justice. Do not bring police. If you do, all will be in vain. Your unknown friend.”

There was no signature or address.

“Did you keep the envelope?”

“Yes, here. And here,” she said, passing over a small heap of padded mailers sealed into plastic zip-topped bags, “Are the envelopes the diamonds came in.”

“Well, you do have the right instincts. Not much to see here, though… the letter and the last three packages had their labels off the same printer. The first four were from another. It stretches credulity to think that there are separate groups doing this so we’ll assume for the moment it was simply a matter of replacing an outdated device. The mailers can be bought anywhere. Various London postmarks… thumbprint on this one, Miss Morstan, may I see your right hand please? Thank you. Your thumbprint. I’ll put them under the microscope later but I doubt there’ll be that much to learn.”

“And you’ve no idea at all who may have sent these? No… admirers, things like that?” John asked.

She laughed at that. “Generally, when men are interested in me they go more for things like asking me to dinner rather than anonymously sending me a million dollars in gems over the course of seven years. I’m not that unapproachable.” I rolled my eyes at their stale flirtation, although I don’t believe either of them noticed it.

“But…” she continued, more hesitantly, “Mr. Holmes, do you think that there’s any possibility that these are from my father?”

John was glaring at me, and so instead of saying “Of course not. He’s been dead for ten years,” replied “I’m afraid it’s very unlikely.”

“I see,” Mary replied, quietly. She drew a deep breath and continued, “Well, regardless, I had planned to go… unless you can give me a real reason not to. If whoever it is wants to hurt me it seems like they’ve chosen a really baroque way of going about it. I mean, they already know where I live so it’s not like there’s much point in avoiding them. And I’m getting sick of this mystery.”

“There are, however, a few points of interest in it. As you are allowed to bring two friends and John is already planning on accompanying you, I believe I shall join him.”

She darted her gaze back and forth between us, smiling, “Really? You will? Both of you? Oh, thank you, thank you so much! This whole saga has just been so shady and I didn’t know anyone who’d be any help with this kind of thing. It’s such a weight off my mind. Thank you.”

She was gushing, and her voice had inevitably pitched up again. I responded calmly with, “Yes, well. Can you be here by five thirty on Saturday? And leave us your contact information.”

“Of course!”

And, writing an email address and a phone number on a sheet of scrap paper, she disappeared in a whirl of gratitude.

John rose to escort her to the door. I remained seated, and began texting.

“That, he said, picking up his carrier bags and taking them into the kitchen, “Was a very attractive woman.”

“Hadn’t noticed.”

“Really. I knew you were a human adding machine but I never thought you were actually dead. Sherlock, it’s an objective fact! She’s got a beautiful smile.”

“Very short.”

“Oh, come on. She’s an inch or two shorter than I am.”

While this statement would not actually exclude “short” from consideration, I simply raised my eyebrows and replied, “Women have developed this remarkable technology called shoes which they use when they wish to increase their height, John. She’s no more than five feet tall.”

“Yes, well, shortness is not a handicap, Sherlock. And she’s clever.”

“She’s adequate.”

“And brave. She was going to walk by herself into a threatening situation just because she wanted to find out the truth.”

“So are you. So am I, for that matter. I fail to see why it’s so much more meritorious when it’s her doing it.”

“I’m a combat-trained military reservist, and you are England’s only consulting detective. It’s our job. She’s a very small maths teacher.”

I set down the mobile and glared at him, “Mary Morstan, John, is in no need of your protection. This affair of the diamonds is a mere personal intrigue. She’ll meet with the woman and resolve it without the benefit of your attention.”

He paused from putting the potatoes in the bin and inquired, “It’s a woman sending the diamonds? You’re sure?”

In general, I don’t admit which of my deductions I’m certain of and which are (very good) guesses. Maintaining a reputation as infallible isn’t a trivial exercise. But John had repeatedly earned the truth from me, and so I said, “No, I’m not. I’m reasonably confident, given the font choice, the computer used, and the wording, that it’s a woman, and a rather melodramatic one. But there’s more – uncertainty in these things than I would like.”

John chuckled. “I should take a picture of you right now and call it ‘Sherlock Holmes admitting he might be wrong’. They’d love to have it down at the Yard. So why take the case if you don’t think there’s any mystery?”

“Oh, there is one, just not the “why is someone sending me expensive gemstones” one she came in with. Can you log on to the GRO database and look something up for me? My email address and password will get you in.”

“Sure,” he said, walking back into the sitting room and picking up his laptop, “What?”

“Deaths. Start by looking for “Sholto” in late April, early May of 2005. If that doesn’t bring up anything, look for ex-military, older, in London, same time frame.”

“Right. What are you going to do?”

I held up my mobile. “I’ve done it. I’ve sent a text to brother Mycroft.”

“Why?”

“Watson, when a man leaves a high rank role in the army to become a low-end functionary in the diplomatic service, what does that suggest?”

“Er, PTSD?”

“No. It suggests spy. I want to find out exactly what Thomas Morstan did for a living.”

A week after that, Mary Morstan arrived punctually back at Baker Street. She’d replaced the dowdy suit with trousers and a blue blouse cut low in the front, left off her glasses, and undone her severe bun to let her hair hang over her shoulders. She had chosen flat shoes this time, which was a relief, as it showed the target of all this display was John rather than me.

Six hours after that, I saw that the display had been successful. I had to physically restrain John from going to her as she was handcuffed and loaded into a black maria for the murder of Barbara Sholto. As typical of Americans, she was explaining loudly and slowly to the arresting officer that there had been a terrible misunderstanding, clearly expecting this to rectify the situation.

“John, look,” I said, sotto voce, as I pinned him to the wall of the alley, “If you go over there you’ll only be arrested too. Athelney Jones has already picked up the entire domestic staff and Theresa Sholto and would be only too happy to increase his bag. The man’s an idiot, even by the standards of the metropolitan police. We’ll text Lestrade to let him know, and the worst she’ll have is a few uncomfortable hours, but we need to be on our way if we’re going to actually catch the killer which is the only thing that will do her any good.”

Even that early, I suspected that Mary would not be as swiftly forgotten as the rest of the girlfriends.

Three days later, Mary was a free woman again. The lost crown jewels of the Russian Tsars, of which she had been offered a one-third share, were scattered along six miles of the bottom of the Thames. She had accepted this development with equanimity. As she said to John, “Even if they hadn’t been lost, it’s not like I was expecting to keep them. I’m sure there’s still some Romanovs somewhere who’d like to have them back. The whole time Teresa was telling me the story of how she got them I kept thinking “Yeah, this kind of stuff doesn’t happen in real life.””

I heard, while they were falling in love, enough of “The Things Mary Says” to gag a cat. I heard about Mary’s feelings on politics, the arts, and current events. I heard about Mary’s emotional turmoil on the discovery that her father was an intelligence agent who had taken the pay of so many competing nations and organizations that even now nobody could say who he had really worked for. And that was apart from his being a jewel thief. I heard enough recitations of her personal charm, intelligence, and integrity to gag a dog.

Not being enamored of her, I was able to observe her far more clearly. I saw that she omitted to mention during the investigation that she was already in receipt of seven perfectly-matched flawless three carat blue-white diamonds, pulled from a coronet made for some forgotten Tsarina. I saw no reason to bring it up to anyone, if she had overcome her scruples about receiving stolen property. I would rather the money have gone to John than to anyone else, and it was clear by that point that it would.

Over the next months, Mary incorporated herself into John’s life, and thus, into mine. I grew accustomed to the scent of her cosmetics in the flat’s shared w.c. (she was a disgustingly early riser and had usually gone before I woke up), and the sounds of their post-sex conversation from the upstairs bedroom (they kept the actual lovemaking quiet, out of politeness, but the after-chat was quite distinct). I drew the line, however, at allowing her to tidy the place. She didn’t understand the system and would have made a hash of it.

Ultimately, just over six months after the day she rang the bell at Baker Street, I found myself ordering a round of tequila shots at the bar of the White Lion and slipping chloral hydrate into three of them. Earlier, Mary had balanced on tiptoe to kiss my cheek and whisper in my ear “Can you please try not to let them get him too drunk?” I carried the round back to the table where a flushed and grinning but not yet weaving Watson listened as a dozen of his Army and medical school friends speculated on whether Mary would qualify him as “Four-Continents Watson” or if the actual location of the coitus mattered more than the origin of the lady in question. I passed the shot glasses around, judging that the administration of three Mickey Finns to three particular members of the party would bring the night to a graceful but early end in about an hour.

I judged, as usual, correctly. After decanting the three dazed ringleaders into a cab, the party broke up, and John and I made it back to Baker Street with only slightly more difficulty than usual. The stairs did give him some trouble, but ultimately I was able to successfully deposit him on the couch. I shook two aspirin from the bottle and handed them to him along with a glass of water. He took both uncomplainingly.

“Sherlock?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks. For whatever you did back there. I’d hate to be a mess tomorrow.”

“I looked up the duties of the best man and apparently making sure the groom is present and presentable are tops on the list.”

“And you even agreed to wear a tie!” This non sequitur amused him, and he chuckled at his own joke for a moment, before sobering (comparatively), and staring around the flat. “I’m going to miss all this.”

“No, you won’t,” I predicted, climbing the stairs to fetch the blankets off his bed.

“I will!” he insisted, “I’m happy, really happy, about Mary. She’s wonnerful. But I’ll miss this life. And you.”

“It’s not as though I’ll be dead. You’ll be ten minutes away. I’ll be sure to call you whenever I need my cases blogged.”

“I love you, mate, you know that? Even though you are- just such a prick.”

I smiled and pitched the blankets at his head. “I do. Tosser. Now go to sleep. You have a busy day ahead of you.”

He was out and snoring, wearing everything but his shoes, five minutes later. I refilled his water glass and left it on the end table.

At noon the next day I (wearing not only a tie but my entire morning suit) stood at John’s left shoulder and watched Mary Morstan walk down the aisle. I doubt she saw me: her eyes were fixed on John, who was sober, alert, and in full dress uniform, as requested. The expression of love and joy on her face obliged me to concede that, at the moment, she was in fact a very attractive woman.

I don’t think I could have given him up to anyone who loved him even a bit less.

At the reception I gave a speech which everyone said was very interesting, and drank one and a half glasses of inferior Prosecco. I watched them cut the cake, noting that the new Mrs. Watson was far more comfortable with John’s ceremonial saber than he was. She’d lost the callosities of the dedicated fencer, but the skill remained. Then, as Molly Hooper was prowling around with an eye towards dancing and my actual duties were complete, I slipped out of the hall and walked back to Baker Street.

I stopped in at the chemists and bought a packet of cigarettes, then let myself into the flat. There was a peculiar sensory illusion that it was larger and emptier than normal: nonsense, of course. John was routinely absent when I was there. The fact that the absence would now be permanent didn’t alter the actual physical size of the place.

There was always work, and heedless of my dress clothes, I went to it. Three months later, I “died.” And three years after that, I returned to a London which seemed larger and emptier than I recalled. Sensory illusion again. The softer emotions have a very negative impact upon accurate observation, and the world in general doesn’t change at all when a single person drops out of it. On an individual level, though, a single death can rip the bottom out of everything. Such was the case with Mary Watson, who I encountered on a bright August day in Park Lane. She’d lost a stone in weight, which was significant at her height, and was wearing an oversized camel-colored cardigan which I recognized with a pang as being one of Watson’s. She had, in general, the appearance of a child’s toy where the stuffing had been pulled out. I approached her, unseen, as her attention was on Ronald Adair’s flat. When she lost her composure and fled, I hesitated. Then I followed. There were two reasons for this. The first, as always, was John. I couldn’t envision a situation where he would not have come to the aid of a crying woman. In the particular case of Mary, he’d have sprinted to it.

As for the second, well… On the occasion of the case of Neville St. Claire, John had said to me that, “People in trouble come to my wife like birds to a light-house.”

And I truly had nowhere else to go. Chapter 3: The Death of Ronald Adair (Mary)

In general, I am not a fainter, and I didn’t faint then. But a grey mist swirled in front of my eyes, and when it subsided I noticed I had dropped the cigarette onto the well-clipped Hyde Park grass. I picked it up with numb, nerveless fingers. With my other hand I reached out to Sherlock and pushed on the flesh of his bicep. He was reassuringly solid.

“So I haven’t gone mad.”

“No.”

“Not dead, then?”

“Yes.”

I took a drag from the Silk Cut and asked, “Does anyone else know besides me?”

“Mycroft.”

“Of course.”

“And Molly Hooper.”

“That bitch!” I exclaimed, before I could stop myself. I wouldn’t quite have called Molly a friend. We didn’t see much of one another, but her quiet competence had gotten me through the hellscape of the funeral. I found it startlingly painful to believe that she had been concealing a secret like this- especially from John.

Sherlock quirked an eyebrow at me and said, “You’re harsher on her than on Mycroft?”

“There is nothing that I would put past one of the Holmes boys.”

He sighed, and drew on his own cigarette. The sun dipped below the treetops and set us into shadows.

“Sherlock,” I asked, eventually, “What do you want?”

“I need a gun.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ. Of course you do.”

“Mary, please-“ and he hesitated. He and I had never been more than “friendly”, and he certainly had never been inclined to ask any favors of me.

“You’re still in trouble, aren’t you?” I accused.

He hesitated again.

“Yes.”

“Right,” I said, brushing off my pants and rising, “We’ll talk. Baker Street, or our place? My place.”

“Baker Street is being watched.”

“Can we take a cab?”

“Probably.”

It was actually very impressive, how he collapsed his face into that of the Cockney souvenir hawker. He even seemed to lose several inches in height. The stage lost an excellent actor when he decided to go into detective work.

We walked in silence back to Park Lane, and took a cab (after he’d dismissed the first one that tried to stop). He sat next to me in silence, until a horrible thought overtook me, and I said, “Oh, God, has anyone told you? About-“

“Your… bereavement? Yes. I was… very sorry to hear of it.”

It was a relief. It had already happened several times: some colleague or acquaintance who I hadn’t seen in a while would, in the course of ordinary chit-chat, drop, “Oh, and how’s John doing?” into the conversation. And then I would have to watch their faces change from polite disinterest to horror and pity as I gave them the news. I would say it was the worst thing I had to do, but I had developed an entire new suite of worst things in recent months and was somewhat spoiled for choice.

We didn’t speak any further until I let us into the flat.

“Have a seat. I’ll just go get it.”

John, given that he was occasionally prone to physically violent nightmares, had always kept the Sig Sauer semi-automatic securely locked away in a box in the master bedroom closet. I retrieved it, and returned to the living room. Sherlock had installed himself in his old favorite spot on the sofa, and Arthur had climbed onto the arm next to him. They were watching each other with matching expressions of flat-eyed distaste.

“I don’t know where the key is,” I said, passing the box over.

“It’s fine,” he replied. And indeed, he materialized a lockpick from somewhere and opened it within ten seconds.

He’d removed his auburn wig, although he still had on an excellent shade of lipstick for his complexion: a glossy transparent berry-stain. It was almost the only color on his face. Whatever he’d been up to, it was doing no favors for his health. I wouldn’t have thought he could have gotten thinner or paler, barring his contracting tuberculosis or vampirism. And yet, he had managed. At some point, he’d cut his hair off close to the scalp, and it was faintly peppered with grey. Sherlock was a year or two younger than I, but at the moment I could see what he would be like as an old man.

“You know that thing’s illegal, right?” I said.

“It’s not something that’s a real concern just at the moment,” he returned, calmly.

“It should probably be cleaned. It’s not been touched since… well, I’m not sure of the last time John cleaned it.”

“It will be fine. They’re very simple instruments and Watson was always over-cautious. I didn’t clean my old one for years and it never had any problems.”

“That’s because John would secretly do it for you every few months.”

One of the small pleasures in life that everyone should get to experience at least once is to watch Sherlock Holmes’ face when he is informed that one of the normals has gotten something past him. I had to suppress a flicker of a smile at how thunderous he looked.

“Look,” I said, “Give it here and I’ll do it. The cleaning kit’s on the top shelf above the stove in the kitchen, if you’ll reach it down for me.”

I could hear him rummaging around in the cabinet as I released the clip, disconnected the slide, and popped out the spring. I laid everything down on the coffee table and accepted the kit when he returned and gave it to me. When I sighted down the barrel, I could see ample dust, and a fair bit of corrosion from the soggy English atmosphere. It only made sense, really. When Sherlock had died, John had lost any professional reason to carry a gun, and gained a strong personal reason to lock it away and leave it to rust. Dipping the cleaning swab into the wide-mouthed jar of solvent, I began passing it through the barrel.

“’In a self-defense situation, there will be many things you can’t control. The condition of your weapon is not one of them,’” I quoted.

“Did Watson say that?”

“No, though he’d have agreed with the sentiment. That was my stepfather. He was the one who taught me about shooting.”

Sherlock blinked at me. “I didn’t know you had a stepfather.”

“Like everyone else, I do actually have an objective existence apart from the parts you find interesting, Sherlock.”

I sounded bitter, but I didn’t care. I had been the one to put John back together after Sherlock’s quote-unquote death, and having him sitting calmly on my sofa irked.

“I only meant,” he replied, “That he wasn’t at your wedding.”

“He has congestive heart failure and travel is very difficult for him!” I snapped,

“Sherlock, why the hell did you do this?”

“Well, I had in fact been exposed as a fraud and-“

“Bullshit. You have been more or less cleared for two years and I’m sure your brother told you that. D.I. Lestrade had to demonstrate that you weren’t, in general, a criminal, because he wanted to keep his job. Fifty people, including me, by the by, came forward to tell stories of how you had solved cases that you couldn’t possibly have faked. The only real mystery remaining is this whole affair with Richard Brook, and frankly the best person to justify that would have been you.”

He scrubbed his hands through the bristles of his hair. “There was more.”

“So tell me.”

Sherlock sighed, and stared off into the space over my left shoulder. “When the head of an organization is removed, the organization generally remains. John Kennedy is shot, the United States persists. The death of Jim Moriarty left a thriving multinational criminal organization with a vacancy at the top for which there were numerous keen candidates. I have spent the last three years attempting to take advantage of this situation and dismantle its operations entirely.”

Something about the cold way he said “dismantle” made me think I really didn’t want to hear much about this process. I asked, “And you couldn’t have done that in your own persona?”

“No. Because- Moriarty was in many ways a remarkable man.”

The tone of this statement was pure admiration, and I rubbed my forehead where I could feel the old familiar “Sherlock” headache coming on. “How’s that?” I asked.

“I don’t want to say he founded a cult of personality, but in his immediate circle were several men who genuinely did admire him and support him in his goals, as opposed to the ordinary hangers-on who simply were in it for the profit.”

“So, his friends.”

“What?”

I sighed. “Never mind. Continue.”

#quarto's fics #warstan #Sherlock&Mary #major character death #Mary morstan #mary morstanning #ACD Mary in BBC Sherlock #which used to be a thing

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the-signs-of-two · 4 years

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On Moftiss’ Dracula

I would like to begin with a short disclaimer: What follows is my own subjective opinion. Please feel free to disagree, but kindly disagree in a pleasant fashion.

A long ramble on the upcoming BBC Dracula and my thoughts on its possible relation to BBC Sherlock can be found under the cut.

So... as we all eagerly (or not so eagerly) await the premiere of BBC Dracula by Moffat and Gatiss in a couple of days, I’ve seen a lot of speculation, excitement and anger that I’ve mostly not been contributing to, not just because the series hasn’t come out yet and I don’t want to speculate ahead of time, but also because... well, while I am a huge fan of gothic horror and will be watching the show for that very reason, I don’t think I want to see this show in connection with BBC Sherlock.

If they make some kind of announcement about BBC Sherlock after the end credits, that’s one thing that I’d be totally, unquestionably down for.

But when it comes to the actual show, I don’t want it to be some kind of subtextual meta-commentary on Sherlock. I don’t want it to be a subtextual “S5″. I frankly don’t want it to have anything to do with BBC Sherlock.

I really want a BBC Sherlock S5 with canon Johnlock. With a big moment of revelation and a kiss and a happily ever after for them, preferably in a way that hints that they were intended to be together from the start and have finally come out of the closet after 130 years. And to be clear, I still believe in an S5 some time in the future, and if they choose to announce it during the premiere of Dracula, I’ll be the first person to cry tears of joy.

If, on the other hand, Moftiss’ intention always was to make only four seasons with the big climax being Sherlock’s secret sister who murdered his childhood friend because she was lonely... I mean, it’s not ideal for me, but I guess

HOWEVER. What I would NOT be okay with would be for the big reveal, the first openly gay Sherlock Holmes, the big Johnlock moment that was meant to be a groundbreaking moment in the representation of LGBT+ people on screen and a watershed in the history of Sherlock Holmes adaptations to end up as some kind of subtext in a completely unrelated show that just so happens to be made by the same people. I’d rather it only exist in the passionate minds of those who care about it than as some throw-away reference in a Dracula adaptation.

BBC Sherlock is its own thing. It’s its own show, standing on itself, no matter who makes it or stars in it or participates in its creation. Where it does lean on other works, to me those works are the Sherlock Holmes canon and other Sherlock Holmes adaptations.

And it’s for this reason that, while I will probably be watching BBC Dracula, I will be watching it as its own thing. I hope to see a reveal of BBC Sherlock S5 in connection with BBC Dracula, but as for the show itself, I will not be attempting to connect it to BBC Sherlock and I hope to God that Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat won’t either.

Of course, these are just my thoughts. If you’re excited to get meta-ing about connections between BBC Sherlock and BBC Dracula, please be my guest. I personally would feel far from satisfied with some kind of posthumous Johnlock hint hint nudge nudge, but if you’d really like to see that, far be it from me to spoil your enjoyment.

And who knows, maybe Moftiss have made no attempt to reference anything BBC Sherlock in BBC Dracula and this whole hullabaloo is all for nothing, in which case I apologise in advance.

Thank you so much for reading and a happy, happy New Year!!!! Here’s to lots of wonderful Sherlock and Johnlock content in the New Year!

#Sherlock #BBC Sherlock #BBC Dracula #some rambling ramblings

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vulpesmellifera · 5 years

Text

Vulpes’ Mystrade Recs

For @inevitably-johnlocked

I have a lot more than these but I don’t have the time today to add more. I hope to begin organizing them so that it is easier for readers to find what they’re looking for. This list is only a start! There are many more deserving fics and authors who will show up on this list in the future. Enjoy!

Happens in BBC Sherlock Canon as far as I can tell, but is not necessarily canon-compliant

Hope by sandwastesinthevoidofmychest. Mystrade. Teen. 5,222 words. My heart died reading this one, though it did restart. Mycroft suffers an acid attack, and retreats from public scrutiny.

Out of the Ashes by wendymarlowe. Mystrade. Explicit. 34,679 words. A tale of post-Reichenbach Mystrade. I loved it! It also includes some casefic.

The Sheltering Tree by Mottlemoth. Mystrade. Explicit. 89,113 words. I think this is the sweetest story Mottlemoth has written so far. I just adored it.

Darlin’ by Mottlemoth. Mystrade. Teen. 2,295 words. Mycroft is injured, and when he wakes in the hospital, he finds out that he’s married to Greg Lestrade.

Breaking Point by Hastalux. Mystrade. Mature. There’s a terrorist attack and Mycroft is caught in the middle of it. Greg refuses to leave him there.

Memoranda of Understanding series by mydwynter. Mystrade. Explicit. Good god, I need to reread this one. I just remember loving it, and just being blown away by how good it is.

As The Stars of Heaven: Holmesian Reproductive Strategies by Tammany. Mystrade. Teen. 24,342 words. Mycroft decides he wants a family. Greg is sort of jealous. Well, really jealous.

At Least There’s the Football series by sheffiesharpe. Mystrade. Explicit. It’s popular for a reason, y’all. Truly awesome domestic bliss and a wonderful romantic partnership between Mycroft and Greg.

The DI and the Spy series by chasingriver. Mystrade. Explicit. I’m pretty sure January of 2018 was me having just discovered Mystrade and devouring the big time popular fics. This one was super sweet and funny.

Fire and Ice series by kazvl. Mystrade. Explicit. This one is soooo good. There’s drama and angst with a wonderful storyline that diverges from post-Reichenbach canon in a believable way.

East End Boy by Mottlemoth. Mystrade. Explicit. So my headcanon is generally that Greg is someone who married a woman but was always gay (I know bisexuals exist; I am one, thank you), and when I read this I was like “YASSS! Thank you Moth!” because not only did it meet my headcanon, but the story is one of the best ones I’ve read, hands down.

To All the Lovers in the House Tonight by kedgeree. Mystrade. Mature. 15,950 words. Greg always gets his man, doesn’t he?

The I Know the Steps Series by stardust_made. Mystrade. Explicit. 37,394 words. This is great - Mycroft and Greg come to know each other - first from Mycroft’s POV, and then Greg’s.

like a moth to a flame by egmon73. Mystrade. Mature. 12,343 words. Greg realizes that he’s attracted to Mycroft. How can he be 52 and just now attracted to a man???

Sweetheart by janto321 (FaceofMer). Mystrade. Explicit. 1,312 words. Mycroft thought it would just be sex between them.

Taking His Time by sanguisuga. Mystrade. Explicit. 8,040 words. Mycroft didn’t quite expect these developments with Greg Lestrade.

Damage Control by TheDevilsFeet. Mystrade & Johnlock. Explicit. 46,679 words. Mycroft and Greg go on a drive to extract Sherlock from a precarious situation. It has some very awkward moments, but they get to know each other better.

Sinking the Land by emungere. Mystrade. Explicit. 34,302 words. It started with random cock sucking. And then it gets even better. So good!

Beyond These Games by recreational. Mystrade. Explicit. 37,736 words. Greg wants to know about the man behind the voice. It gets complicated.

Mister Big series by L_Morgan. Mystrade. Explicit. 41,007 words. This is one of the sweetest Mystrade fics out there. And not fluffy sweet…just sweet. Well done.

Virtually Perfect by Random_Nexus. Mystrade. Explicit. 19,680 words. A great Mystrade fic! I’ve reread this one when I needed a pick-me-up. Mycroft and Greg meet over the internet.

Cracks in the Ice by Mice. Mystrade. Explicit. 31,739 words. This is fantastic. It takes Greg and Mycroft from pre-canon to post-Reichenbach, and the ending is such a surprise.

And the Law Won by MofBaskerville. Mystrade. Explicit. 10,531 words. Mycroft has had a less-than-stellar experience with relationships, and breaks it off with Greg before those things can come to past. Greg isn’t happy about it.

Out of Thought by green_violin_bow. Mystrade. Explicit. 89,323 words. A fabulous love story wherein a disbelieving Mycroft is pursued by a besotted Greg.

The Habits of a Lifetime by out_there. Mystrade. Explicit. 54,234 words. One of my very favorite Mystrade stories. Mycroft is dealing with the aftermath of Sherrinford.

The Sad Divorced Bastards Club by out_there. Mystrade. Explicit. 19,987 words. Greg invites Mycroft to join a club. Mycroft accepts. I love out_there’s work!

Finding a Way series by MuchTooMerryMaidean. Mystrade. Mature. 116,152 words. This one is a difficult but wholly worthwhile read. TW for rape and rape recovery. I think this is a really important piece, though, the most genuine treatment of the topic in the fandom that I have come across - how rape impacts a person, but also the people around them. It also explores identity, politics of sex and gender, family relationships, and so much more. I’ve reread it twice now, and will probably reread again.

Take Care of Me (Scenario 52-B) by Aelfay. Explicit. 10,788 words. Need some hurt/comfort Mystrade in your life? Here ya go!

Please, Please, Please series by Sunnyrea. Explicit. 180,302 words. Mycroft begins courting Greg, but nothing is ever easy. Great story!

A Sense of Home by snorklepie. Explicit. 50,401 words. Greg pursues Mycroft. He also decides to get his life together.

AUs

Soul Mate by Mottlemoth. Mystrade. Teen. 4,068 words. Remember up above when I said The Sheltering Tree was the sweetest thing Mottlemoth ever wrote? I was wrong. It’s this soulmates AU.

Cold Hands, Warm Heart by chasingriver. Mystrade. Explicit. 51,553 words. Mycroft gets forced into a family ski vacation. The ski instructor is hot!

Pater Noster series by manic_intent. Mystrade. Explicit. 26,551 words. Good Omens AU! Mycroft is a demon and Lestrade is an angel. Things get tangled from there.

True Minds series by green_violin_bow. Mystrade. Explicit. A Jane Austen Persuasion AU! Need I say more?

The North Wind’s Lord by Mice. Mystrade. Explicit. 7,931 words. An AU where Greg tries to find out why the winter won’t stop. Mycroft is an out-of-sorts sorcerer.

A Safe Prisoner of His Fate by out_there. Mystrade. Explicit. 33,812 words. Young Mycroft is the captive of a dashing pirate. Yes please!

Bonfire Heart by JessieBlackwood. Mystrade. Mature. 44,075 words. Greg is a surgeon, and Mycroft is a pain in the arse. Excellent story!

Magical Realism or Sci-Fi in Canon

The Tenth Muse by Vulpesmellifera. Mystrade. Explicit. 25,365 words. Post-Reichenbach, magical realism, diverges from canon, and includes a side of Johnlock. Mycroft doesn’t deduce like Sherlock - he sees things. Creepy things.

Time Slips by mezzo_cammin. Mystrade. Explicit. Mycroft will do anything to save Greg’s life, even if it means making deals, and messing around with the space-time continuum.

Xmas Tales

A Christmas Carol by Mottlemoth. Mystrade. General. The funny part of this was that I was working out a Christmas Carol Johnlock version with my BFF, and I discovered this story and was all like “BFF! There’s a Sherlock fanfic of A Christmas Carol, but it’s a Mystrade.” And then I liked it so much I decided to abandon my version. Which is okay, because I moved on to fics for which I have a greater urgency to write later on.

Thawing the Ice Man by sanguisuga. Mystrade. Explicit. 5,681 words. Mycroft and Greg get stuck at Baker Street one night and have to share a bed. It’s Christmas!

So Full of Light by mydwynter. Mystrade. Explicit. 21,450 words. One of my favorite Xmas fics. Mycroft and Greg grow beards for a cause. And beards are hot.

For Services Rendered by Mottlemoth. Mystrade. Explicit. 10,582 words. Greg runs into someone at A&E on Christmas Eve.

The Christmas Spirit by ByrnTWedge. Mystrade. Explicit. 59,916 words. Inspired by It’s A Wonderful Life! Mycroft decides people would be better off without him, but interference by a miscalculating angel leads him to someone who wouldn’t be better off without Mycroft.

Tinder: A Christmas Tale by green_violin_bow. Mature. 8,860 words. This is excellent - Mycroft and Greg ‘accidentally’ match up on Tinder.

To Capture Light by Vulpesmellifera. Teen. 4,891 words. Post season 4, Mycroft has isolated himself in a Canadian chalet to deal with the personal consequences of Sherrinford. An unexpected visitor pops up on his doorstep.

Fideles by Anarfea. Mature. 4,744 words. I really liked this one. Greg’s wife is cheating, and Greg goes out for a walk. He meets up with Mycroft, and they sit for a drink. Maybe more?

Sickfics

Woes of the Pharynx by Vulpesmellifera. Mystrade. Gen. 844 words. An ailing Mycroft gets a little TLC from his detective inspector. Humorous ficlet. Promise it’ll make you smile!

Flu Humbug by Hastalux. Mystrade. Teen. 2,750 words. This could have gone under Xmas Tales, too, but here it is! Mycroft has the flu, and Greg gets creative in his care.

PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF A LINK DOESN’T WORK THANK YOU.

#Mystrade fanfiction #Mystrade #mystrade fic rec #sherlock BBC #fanfiction

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laws-yellow-submarine · 5 years

Note

4,5, and 20?

You both had number 20, and asked pretty much at the same time so I combined it 😂

4: Do you have a NoTP in your fandom? Are they a popular OTP?:

KidLaw 🤷‍♀️ I see it and I'm instantly annoyed because like I've said before, it makes zero sense lmao I'd never go out of my way to rant about it, but I scroll past it quickly if it shows up on my dash. Also really don't like Law x Doflamingo, cause that's toxic as shit, or Law x Corazon cause they're basically family bruh lol but I don't see those ones as much (it does happen though and I just...no lol and anything even slightly incestual is a big no-no)

5: Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?:

Ummm not in One Piece, everything's pretty chill here. I did sorta have it happen with BBC Sherlock though. I never shipped Johnlock (for much the same reasons I don't ship Luffy with people), but would still appreciate art and stuff the way I do with various ships in this fandom, but sooooo many people acted (still act) like it's the only possible canon, and if you don't agree you're homophobic, and that turned me completely off the whole thing (as well as the show, which I used to love). I don't care if people headcanon what they want or ship what they want, but remember it's YOUR headcanon until PROVEN canon, and not everyone that disagrees with you is doing it maliciously. It was so frustrating.

19: What is the one thing you hate most about your fandom?:

Sometimes I feel like people jump to conclusions really quickly and start forming theories or headcanons without looking at actual canon. For instance (spoilers ahead for the most recent one piece chapters):

the theory Law is betraying the alliance to Kaido? So many people jumped on that when it makes zero sense at all. He couldn't even have given over the info Orochi had, he was in prison for most of that time. Plus what would he get out of that? He's not gonna be subservient to an emperor, he's way too chaotic and (slightly) suicidal for that, plus he already fucked up Kaido's SMILE trade, I don't think he's the type to let that slide no matter what Law could offer him. But so many people were like "OMG HE'S A TRAITOR" like no he's not you're acting just like Shinobu stop. Also I think people jumped too quickly on the whole "Sabo is dead!" thing from last chapter. *END SPOILERS*

It's such a dumb thing to get annoyed about, I know, but it bugs me cause I'll constantly be sitting there like "did we read the same thing? Where are you getting this from?" But I leave it be cause I'm not one to like, pick fights, there's no reason to do that lol

20: What is the purest ship in the fandom?:

Frobin 😭😭 so good, so pure, so lovely

#one piece #frobin #eustass kid #trafalgar law #sabo one piece #op 954 #op 955 #op 956 #opspoilers #just in case #sherlock #ask meme #thanks for the ask!#anon asks #I ranted a bit there I apologize lol #it is a SALT ask meme for a reason lmfao

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johnlockficclub · 5 years

Text

Discussion Recap - Author Q&A!

Well, JFC crew, we’ve reached the end of another fabulous fic! Thank you so much to everyone who read along and participated in the weekly discussions - you all are the best.

And of course, a huge thank you to @swissmissing for writing The Baker Street Nativity in the first place and for coming along to our Author Q&A to share some insight into her writing process and background to this fic. Questions and answers are below the cut as this got quite long!

And finally, thanks once again to @frodosweetstuff for allowing us to use her artwork for these update posts!

Happy holidays everyone - may you and your loved ones be safe and happy this festive season! xx

1: Why this AU? What got you started on it? @ewebie

I saw the movie and with MF in it, of course I immediately started thinking of how it could be a Johnlock AU. I do that frequently anyway: imagine Johnlock versions of stuff. I just watched a few Netflix Xmas movies recently and I am still thinking of how to turn them into Johnlock AU's. I see the world through Johnlock-coloured glasses. Is that healthy or normal? IDK.

2. Would you ever consider publishing your fanfic? @norburylibrary

No. First off, the story is obviously cadged from a copyrighted screenplay. To publish it for real, as an original work, I'd have to scrub the names and characters so that they don't interfere with BBC copyright. That part should be feasible, but the story itself is too close to the Nativity screenplay. As for any of my other fics, the non-fusion ones, I don't think I've written anything that could stand on its own without the Sherlock association. One of the huge assets of fan fiction is there is a built-in character background and setting. I'm not up to rewriting to the extent of creating something that could be published as an original work.

3. What do you enjoy writing most, humor or angst and why? @elwinglyre

I can do both, but I guess I'm more drawn to angst. I think humor is harder to pull off, for me at least. I'm not a naturally funny person. I have to think hard to come up with funny situations and lines. Confession: In some of my fics, there are certain punch lines that were actually written by my beta readers. I think Sherlock and John - in fact all of the Sherlock BBc universe - lends itself more naturally to angst anyway. although there are humorour parts in the eps, I find them more geared towards angst.

4. Was it confusing at all having seen the movie to then switch the roles? When writing it. @sherlock-nanowrimo

Yes, totally confusing at first! I started out with the "natural" roles, with John as the teacher and Sherlock as the assistant, but it wasn't working for me so somehow I just got the idea to try it the other way round. Once I started down that path though, it wasn't confusing for me. I was worried throughout that it would be confusing for readers. But everyone who commented and said they had seen the movie, also said the switch wasn't hard for them to deal with.

5. When you write is it because you get a fic idea or for some other reason? Like stress reliever or for doing something fun? @tildathings

Good question. I always want to write. I get a great feeling of satisfaction when I write something. Especially when I finish a piece. It's a big shot of dopamine for me. It carries me for a long time, sometimes days. BUT I can't force myself to write. I tried that one year with nanowrimo and it was not a good thing. So I can really only write when "the muse" grabs me. When I get an idea that sticks with me for days and weeks. And with this fic, it really came alive and almost wrote itself, once I was on the right track.

6. How much do you base your writing on the show and how much on your headcanon? @travelingwithoutthedoctor

This is a problem too, as I haven't gone back and watched the episodes in a really long time. Many of the eps I only saw once in the first place. I have the feeling that the fandom circles you travel in tend to create a fancanon that pretty much replaces the actual canon. So that's something I struggle with. I actually try when I write to imagine and hear the TV characters speaking and acting things out, in the hopes that it makes it closer to how they might actually be in those situations. I suppose that's unavoidable. I'm sure I do have an image of the characters in my mind, and I write from that. I just hope they are pretty aligned with the original characters from the show.

7. I thought you did an incredible job making Sherlock a teacher for young children credible. That wasn't something we'd think of Sherlock doing, and you made it work. What did you take into consideration when doing this? @elwinglyre

Woo boy, that's a thing! He is so completely unsuited for this position. I had to justify him being in that position, however, so I kind of hand-waved something. Honestly, it wasn't my priority. I was just trying to create Johnlock moments. I mean, I think he's actually quite good with children. We've seen that on the show with Archie. I think it would depend on the kids.

8. I’m curious about the speed of writing. How quickly do you get a chapter done? @vitruvianwatson

Once I get going, I can usually do about a chapter a week. My chapters tend to be 2-5K.

9. The UST, miscommunication and angst of this fic was deliciously frustrating, and a lot of us were yelling at them to just sort themselves out. If that was the hardest part about reading it, I'm wondering about what was difficult to write in this fic? Were there certain sections or characters that you found challenging? @lediona25

I was honestly following the pacing of the movie, pretty much. I did need to add some scenes. I tried to pace it so that there was a romantic bit about at the halfway point, and another one for the big payoff at the end. One challenging bit was the dog. I wasn't sure whether to include him, but once I did, I kept forgetting about him. I kept having to go back and remember where the dog was and who was taking care of him. I don't have a dog so I was just doing what I've seen other people doing with their dogs. They leave them tied up outside of shops and restaurants all the time so I figured it was okay. Again, it wasn't really a priority. A lot of people commented that they liked the dog in there though, so I'm glad I left him in.

10. It was perfect casting! We were talking about it during the movie - like with Greg as the headmistress. @sherlock-nanowrimo

That's one of the best parts of doing a fusion, for me anyway, is the casting. I love discovering how characters map onto each other. Sometimes it's astonishing. I HAD SO MUCH FUN WITH JIM!! I didn't want to make him actually evil or a real threat. It always gives me massive anxiety when Moriarty shows up in a fic because often truly awful things happen then. But I wanted to keep this in line with it being a kids' movie. And to be fair, I didn't really need to change all that much from the movie bad guy anyway. That nativity play he put on was insane! And I actually was just teaching one of my classes last year about universal story plots such as the hero's journey. (Yes, I'm an English teacher.) 11. One of your ficlets suggests some pretty unpleasant stuff re: Jim's backstory. @bluebellofbakerstreet

Jim's backstory. I kind of imagined he and Sherlock had been rivals at the conservatory and Jim had tried to derail Sherlock with drugs. Perhaps somewhat successfully.

12. What the hell is the story with Sherlock and whatever he did to Seb Wilkes?! @ewebie

I don't know either! LOL that is actually something I like doing in fics because, again, I like it when fics do that: hint at something but not elaborate and leave it up to you to decide what was actually going on. I guess maybe that's frustrating to some people but for me, it gives fics depth and realism. It's like in some fics where you just hear about a case in passing but the details are never fleshed out. I was using it to show that Sherlock had made poor decisions with kids in the past, so this thing he did with taking the kids to the studio wasn't out of character.

13. John... as a classroom assistant. How did you see him ending up there? Our conclusion was that... lost people just sometimes end up places @ewebie

I don't recall if it's explained in the fic or not, but I actually had something in mind for that. He was invalided out of the army and bumming around with nothing to do, feeling useless. His good friend Mike, who was also a teacher, recommended him to Greg as a classroom assistant. No idea if that would be allowed in the UK but here in Switzerland it's frequently done. Usually a retired person will be brought in as a classroom assistant. This keeps them active and engaged, and is a big help to the teachers.

14. We loved the whole scene with Moriarty at the end when Mycroft pops out and saves the day. You did a bang-up job with that. When you're finishing a story, are you one those "I've planned it all out" writers or stream of consciousness writers. Let's go with the flow? @elwinglyre

In this case, the ending was written for me. I just followed the plot of the movie. Usually, though, I do have the ending in mind from the start. It's usually pretty much a sex scene, lol. The whole point of the fic is usually, how do I get these two together?

15. Oh! The sex! Is that easy for you to write. I have the hardest time with that. Is something your really get into? @elwinglyre

True story (which I also told on one of my guest slots on the TPP): I didn't use to be able to write sex scenes. But I wanted to. So I literally would copy sex scenes from fics I liked. Just like, typing them out word for word. This got me used to writing those words and those acts on my screen. Then I tried writing my own. I think I sort of have a reputation for writing awkward-realistic sex scenes. I'm not aiming for that, it's just how they come out. It's a mix of, again, imagining how the characters would appear and act and speak in those situations, and also I guess how I would feel and want things to be.

16. We have a lot of people in this group who are just starting out writing fic or are thinking about writing something, do you have any advice to new writers? @lediona25

I'll just say what we started out talking about: Write for yourself. Write what you want to read. You will always have an appreciative audience. I see so many writers get discouraged because they don't have massive hits and kudos, and they just give up. I think most of the popular writers in fandom have been around for years. This may be their third or fourth fandom. They've been writing in real life. Experience takes a long time to build up.So write for yourself. The rest will come. And... at the moment, it feels a bit like there's less readers than 2 years ago, so really really don't be discouraged.

Thanks to all those who asked questions and to @swissmissing for her thoughtful answers! :)

#johnlock fic club #the baker street nativity

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