#angry little hobbit
can’t help drawing them 🖤
Part 1 : The Signs Of Four 🌻
Pov Sherlock :
I said “yes” when John asked me to be his best man; said “yes” when Mary requested me to play at the wedding and didn’t say no when Mrs.Hudson suggested matching outfits , took help from friends to prepare a perfect best man speech, or to throw a perfect Bachelorette, composing wasn’t the hardest part - seeing the empty chair, while composing …. was.
The signs were there. Mary Mortson …. Watson showed all the signs of pregnancy the whole day,and to be the one breaking it to the couple was a beautiful feeling, even for me. They laughed , I smiled. They were thrilled , I was happy - they went for a dance - I stood alone.
The day was full of signs, the signs of three , I had known it - but as they went to the dance floor - I realized that there were no signs of four. “ We three can’t dance - people will talk" - of course we couldn’t , there are limits to a couple’s dance. And it wasn’t anything like the Baker Street rehearsals. It was “The” day - The biggest day of your life.
“……And I want to be with the two people who I love and care about the most - Mary Mortson … and you “
And as the day was finally getting over John, I realised, you wouldn’t be needing the latter anymore.
Dancing alone wasn’t the hardest part - seeing other people dance with other people…was. My eyes searched for Janine, and I wasn’t very sad to see her happily dancing with the man I told her was her best bet. My eyes looked for Molly Hooper next ; dancing happily with Tom - no - on her own , hiding herself under the shadow of a certain Tom , she didn’t love. Because the man who she did , was incapable of giving her the same. - Aren’t we the same?
Aren’t we the same ? I wasn’t ready to ask myself that question for a long time. But after I did, I had to leave.
“Who leaves a wedding early ?“
- Sherlock Holmes.
Part 2 : What I Need 🌼
Pov Sherlock :
Three days have passed since the wedding, domestic bliss , some said - John is suspected to have found that after all. Sometimes I can hear his chair screaming at me to bring his man back, but thanks to Billy who knows when to wake me up. But it’s not Billy who I want. It’s not even John. Not John, John is happy, I wouldn’t do that to Mary. Mary is my friend. And I have vowed to protect them.
Tough words from an addict - said Billy. But of course he lacks the potential to say something like that t o my face. Did I say it out loud? No, of course it was my mind messing. "I am a user” I shouted at him - lie! - I told that to myself.
But Billy is saying something. I wonder what.
“Mister Holmes, I need you to focus "
Billy doesn’t call me Holmes - he is not even that tall most importantly Bill doesn’t wear a dress - it is a woman, an old woman, someone I know, not Mrs.Hudson, someone related to Mycroft!-Oh!
"You need to pay attention , Mr.Holmes. - I have some serious business to discuss. ”
“I am high! All I need is to wash my face ”
Part 3 : So you see Janine … 🌹
Pov Sherlock :
To get hold of Charles Augustus Magnassen , I needed an inside man. But I didn’t know that I already knew the woman inside Charles’ locked doors. Janine!
I showed up outside her flat and asked her for a dance. She was worse than John. But both had one thing in common, the smile on their face. There was no music, only the sound of her happiness. At least one of us wasn’t faking, I thought - but when the dance ended and she left , my hands felt the loss of hers - Just like Baker Street.
I stood there till she came back. “ Thank you for the dance,” she said.
“Thank you for dancing " - came out of my mouth . Unplanned!
Later that night, Baker Street felt more empty.
Lunch? - SH , next day I asked her for lunch
Dinner? -SH, day after that , I took her to dinner
Movie ? - SH, day after that, we went for movie
Date ? - SH, On the fourth day, she agreed t o a date.
Going back home after the third formal date, I told myself that it was essential for the case to give Janine the keys to my flat . I knew in my heart it wasn’t really for the case.
Overwhelmed with Joy she approached for a kiss - I allowed it - I lied to myself that it was for a case.
When her lips departed, I couldn’t lie to myself anymore.
Each night after work she visited my place, we ate, drank, kissed, slept. In the mornings, when she used to leave for work, I went to the nearest possible drug den for part two of my plan.
Sleeping on my back watching the ceiling of that abandoned dump house, I wondered if ever I would be ready to move on? Would I be able to give anyone what I could have given the man who is not mine in the first place? If I could ever give Janine something more than just a kiss ? All the questions remained unanswered cause drugs and exhaustion made me close my eyes.
"Maybe after marriage,” one day I was not exhausted enough to listen to my own answer.
The same day John showed up and found you inside my room. And seeing him jealous and confused made me forget everything I felt I had realized before John. I made him the king again and you , my pawn. My life again started to revolve around the man I called my best friend and everything I did next was just to impress him, give him a taste of t he life he was missing on , get back that taste myself - overwhelmed by which I completely forgot that I never kissed you for the sake of just the case . Every kiss was given and taken out of my own misery and emptiness. Except the last one, last kiss was a show - performed for the king.
But now that his Queen has shot me and I am burdened with the job of serving my vow, and now that you are happily buying a cottage and settling in, it doesn’t matter if I say it out loud that , I wasn’t lying when I said “I was waiting for marriage,” I was indeed waiting for our marriage.
🥀………. 🥀 …………..🥀…………..🥀………….🥀
Another day, another topic based on @sherlockinktober. This one was a bit tricky, but I managed to come up with something. SO. Enjoy!
‘Find the grey bloke 1-0. Blonde hair. BG’s. - SH’
“John? John, mate, I need your help” Lestrade murmured, looking at the other man with with a frown. He was rubbing his temples, ignoring the scotch standing next to him.
“Hm?” the blonde glanced up, setting his glass down. “All right?”
“Yes, well, yes. But there is this case…” he started, but John quickly cut him off.
“Greg, you know it’s better to ask Sherlock.”
“Yes, I did, but I didn’t understand a word he sent me.”
“Well he is the expert when it comes to cases.”
“And you are the expert when it comes to Sherlock Holmes.”
John froze. There it was.
Although his friends knew Holmes much longer, they still believed there was a strong, deep bond between him and his flatmate. Much deeper than between anybody else. And to be honest, that was true. They understood each other, they needed each other. They were much more than they had realised.
“Fine” John nodded, moving to look at the phone. “Find the grey.. hmm…” he hummed quietly, soon beginning to type out a response. When he handed the phone back to the other man, all Greg saw was a response John had sent to Sherlock.
‘A man wearing a grey hoodie, with blonde hair, working as a chef in Blue Gardens’.
Greg blinked, looking up at him and back at the phone. He would never understand how those two understood each other… Soon enough a reply came. Detective Inspector snorted.
‘Thank you, John. - SH’
And then another one, simple, but enough to make John smile to himself, hiding his face behind the glass of scotch.
‘See you at home. - SH’
I have not heard him laugh often, and it has always boded ill to somebody.
- Sir Authur Conan Doyle, The Hound of the Baskervilles
BBC Sherlock writers be like
Are you actually serious?
Look at that face tracing… So much love!
Certainly a grey mist swirled before my eyes, and when it cleared I found my collar-ends undone and the tingling aftertaste of brandy upon my lips. Holmes was bending over my chair, his flask in his hand.
“My dear Watson,” said the well-remembered voice, “I owe you a thousand apologies. I had no idea that you would be so affected.”
I gripped him by the arms.
“Holmes!” I cried. “Is it really you? Can it indeed be that you are alive? Is it possible that you succeeded in climbing out of that awful abyss?”
Eurus be like
Right. So in NO WAY was Sherlock acting here. This was not Sherlock acting helpless so John would think the bomb was about to go off. This was not Sherlock faking sad so that John would forgive him. This was not Sherlock being dramatic for effect.
This was Sherlock coming to terms with the fact that he returned to London to find that the man he loved chose a future with someone else.
This was Sherlock accepting the fact that he was never to have a future with John, at least not in the way he wanted.
This was Sherlock forcing himself to say it out loud, no matter how much it hurt, because HE was the one who needed to hear it, not John.
- 𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝑾𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒐𝒏
- 𝑺𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝑯𝒐𝒍𝒎𝒆𝒔
Sherlock: Be gay, solve crimes
Moriarty: Be gay, do crimes
Gosh I LOVEEEE drunk Sherlock!
*chokes on cheetos* LINK
are we tho….?
currently thinking about how Watson’s love language is clearly acts of service…like him reading things for Holmes? Helping him with cases? Making sure he eats? lads I’m losing it…