Baker Street

Ask Johnlock. Edits, texts, drawings, more.

[2-2-1b]

Sherlock: Merry Christmas Anderson *gives box*

Anderson: YOU, giving ME a gift?

Sherlock: Yes, enjoy. *walks away*

Anderson: *looks at box* Huh... Shake vigorously. Have a buzzing holiday? -SH What does that even mean?

-

John: Sherlock, did you order 500 bees?

Sherlock: Yes.

John: What for?

Sherlock: *sips tea*

[2-2-1b]

Sherlock: *bursting in through door*

Sherlock: I need to contact Mycroft Holmes this instant, wait- John?

Everett:

Everett: Is this how Stephen would be if he were British?

Sherlock: Who?

Everett: Oh my god.

[2-2-1b]

John: What do you mean wrong universe?

Stephen: Honestly, I don’t know if I should be amazed you don’t question my origin, or worried about what has made you so immune to this type of stuff.

John:

John: I don’t know.

[2-2-1b]

John: Can you explain what these mean? *lifts mugs up*

Mug #1: DRINK

Mug #2: DO NOT DRINK

Sherlock: *turns page in newspaper* It should be self explanatory. And after certain incident kept happening, I thought it to be useful. Don’t worry.

John: Not worry? Um... What exactly have you drank?

[2-2-1b]

Anderson: *opens mouth*

Sherlock: You’ve been stopped.

[2-2-1b]

Sherlock: *sighs* Ugh fine, let’s watch that... that-

John:

Sherlock: *gripping armrests* The box thing, with a smaller box thing... You know... the...

John: Go on.

Sherlock: *choking* L-let’s... watch... t- TELLY. LET´S WATCH TELLY. *slumps back*

[2-2-1b]

John: *walking out of kitchen with tea in hand*

John: *stops*

John: Umm... Do I know you?

Stephen: Of course you- oh.

Stephen: *slowly stands up*

John: 

Stephen: Sorry... wrong universe.

[2-2-1b]

John: Here it says that the man was... scooped to death with a sharpened spoon?

Sherlock: *trying not to tear up from how it is the perfect depiction of murder* Oh my-

John: *stares*

Sherlock: *sniffling* Gross, ugh, no, get it out of my face.

[2-2-1b]

John: *shoots cabbie*

Sherlock: *saved* ...

Sherlock: HEY, I THINK YOU ARE REALLY COOL, I LIKE YOU A LOT, MAYBE WE CAN HANG Out or something...

[2-2-1b]

I come back and see I have 3000 followers

Thank you all, honestly I never thought my trashy content would be seen.

I’m about to make a new batch of posts since I am back. *cracks knuckles*

[2-2-1b]

Sherlock:

Sherlock: Welp I wasn’t aware microwaving that would cause this.

John: *covered in a suspicious substance* No shit Sherlock?!

[number-one-spacedad-blog]

“Of course it’s not that, have you even been paying attention John?”

[2-2-1b]

“I didn’t mean tha- You know what, never mind. I’m just going to take a shower and if I don’t see this- this gone by then, let your brother help you because a detective will be knocked into oblivion.”

[number-one-spacedad-blog]

“Oblivion is a concept of the mind that I assure you I cannot be knocked into”

[number-one-spacedad-blog]

…

“What are you covered in?”

[2-2-1b]

“... Take a wild guess. You concocted this yourself.”

[2-2-1b]

Balloon John: ...

Suddenly. Balloon Sherlock

Balloon John: (:

Balloon Sherlock: c:

[2-2-1b]

John: Sherlock, I would like to take our relationship to the next level.

Sherlock:

Sherlock: John.

Sherlock: I would love to have the sex with you.

[2-2-1b]

Sherlock: We wanted to tell you all that John and I are engaged in a relationship.

The Yard: *staring*

Lestrade:

Donovan:

Donovan: *hands Lestrade ten quids*

[2-2-1b]

Sherlock: John... It is what it is...

John: YOU BLOODY BURNED MY JUMPER. A BLACK EYE ON YOUR HANDSOME FACE IS WHAT IS GOING TO BE.

[2-2-1b]

Holmes: Ah, good evening, pleasure to meet you good Sir. I perceive you’ve been in afghanistan.

Watson: Quite so, that’s very remarkable my good man.

- (Alternatively)

Sherlock: I’M AGAINST NEW PEOPLE

John: Sherlock.

Sherlock: *wrapped around John, hissing at a new person*

John: Sherlock.

[2-2-1b]

John: *typing* And despite his attempts at masking his anger under a façade that couldn’t be deciphered not even by the best experts in human expression, he could only but watch as the suspect ran off. When I finally caught up with him at the rooftop and saw his calculating gaze following the shadowed figure, I could not but help notice that even under the worst of emotions he managed to hold a beauty and undeniable grace not even the angels could possess.

Sherlock: JOOOOOOHN. *sliding off the couch on his back lazily, landing on the ground sprawled* I CAN’T GET UP JOHN. *attempts to get up*

Sherlock: *hits head against coffee table*

Sherlock: JOHN?-