How about them meeting their SO's family? In specific, their parents. Maybe it's a big messy family or they have very judgemental parents for whatever reason. Just make it interesting somehow! John included this time perhaps? Thank you <3
For asks, Iâll only do a three of max just so I wonât get overwhelmed. This will be for: John Watson, Sherlock Holmes, James Moriarty.
I also went with a different family for each scenario, so hope you like!Â
The prompt: Above
Genre: Gen
Rating: K+
John Watson
John has been through the dating process before. He knows what to expect when meeting parents, and how to act.Â
That does not make it any less nerve wracking, though.
The two of you had been together for over a year, and normally he would have met your parents sooner, but between juggling Sherlock and work...Â
But tonight was the night!
He was invited over for dinner to meet your family.
Your large, rambunctious, loud, unpredictable family.
But John Watson was a man with nerves of steel, and he prepared himself for one heck of a night trying to butter up to your parents and apologize for being so late to meet them.
He dressed well - business casual - and met you at your parentsâ home.
He was immediately greeted by two children slamming into him in an attempt to run away from a third child.Â
This was followed by the family dog jumping onto him, and completely knocking him to the ground.
Some men might have been flustered, but John only laughed, happily petting your sweet malamute. Your father and mother came out next, both laughing upon seeing John, but helping him up.
Once John had stood back up, he extended a hand out and said with an easy, charming smile, âHello there. Iâm Doctor John Watson, and I have had the absolute pleasure of falling in love with your daughter/son.â
Your family loved him.
Sherlock Headcanons
Uhh...
You loved Sherlock, you really did. You loved him more than anyone else in the world. You even loved his brother, like family, and you had an adoring friendship with Sherlockâs parents.
You were well and truly integrated into the Holmes family, enough so that Mrs. Holmes even began to nag her son about proposing to you soon.Â
But in doing so, this brought up a question you had been dreading since dating Sherlock.Â
âYour parents. When are we meeting them?â Sherlock asked you.
You choked on your tea, your stomach dropping. âU-Um. Y-You want to?â
âWeâve been together three years, and I have not met them. Why?â
You did not get along with your parents.
You did not get along with your parents at all.
Your parents were strict, overbearing, and controlling. High school was the single most stressful point in your life, because you worked tirelessly to win enough scholarships to afford to go to the school of your choice on your own.
Because you knew the moment you told your parents you were not becoming a doctor, or lawyer, or some other high-paying job... you were effectively useless to them.
And lo and behold, when you told them the truth your mother threw into such a fit you had to pack your things that night and leave.Â
You hadnât seen, or talked to them since.
The past couple of years you knew they had been trying to reach out to you. Youâve ignored every attempt, certain they would only try to control you once more. You fought so hard for your independence and freedom, and you would never give them the chance to have any say over you ever again.
But this wasnât something you really liked to talk about.Â
So you didnât.
âIâm, um, Iâm not speaking terms with them,â you admitted to your boyfriend. âThey... do not approve of my choices in life.â
Sherlock was silent for a moment, studying your expressions. You fidgeted anxiously, wanting to move on from the topic.
âI know,â he said, âI met them two years ago.â
Your mouth dropped open. You were stunned. âWhat?â
âJohn and I happened across them during a case. We... talked. Theyâre very eager to hear from you again, and I understand they regret what has happened. John determined them to be honest, but I was more skeptical. I have spent the past two years studying them, and I can confidentially reassure you that they are indeed sincere. Now if I am to propose to you, I would prefer if I could at least properly have dinner with your parents with you there before doing so. I will ask again with better clarification: When would you like to have dinner with your parents?â
You stared at him in disbelief, and then a brilliant smile lit up on your face. âSunday.â
He gave you that little crooked smile that was almost a smirk. âSunday it is.âÂ
James Moriarty Headcanons
You were a private individual. Even when you had begun your relationship with James Moriarty, you were reluctant to share things about your past, or yourself. As the two of you grew closer over the years, you became more open to him.
But not completely.
It wasnât that you didnât trust him, or any such thing. It wasnât that you didnât want to, either, so much as...
You didnât know how to bring up your past.
It was something kept so deeply buried. Your name had been changed as soon as you had turned eighteen, and nearly all records of your family - and of yourself - had been destroyed in a terrible fire before they could be digitalized.Â
Growing up in a small country town meant people still remembered who you were, but since coming to London no one had come to learn about you.
No one except Moriarty.
And again, you werenât intentionally hiding your past, so much as you just genuinely didnât want to talk about it. You didnât even like thinking about it too much, because it was such a terrible, awful, scar. It stretched over your heart and made it ache every year on the anniversary of when your whole life changed.
You didnât even realize how much you kept hidden from him until he asked you, âWhen do I meet your parents?â
âWhen do you want to?â you returned, feeling your chest tighten up.
âHow about tomorrow?â
And so the next day the two of you left to return to your little home town. Moriarty seemed surprised to learn where you grew up, and how the town had deteriorated into almost nothing in the past decade since you had been there.
He was even more surprised when you had the car pull over to a run down, weed-filled plot of land.
You took his hand, your heart aching, and you guided him through the neglected land that was once your home. He walked beside you, silent, watchful, as he took everything in.
You brought him to where your house once stood, now only two grave stones.
He understood.
âHi, Mom. Hi, Dad,â you whispered to the stones. âThis is my fiance, James Moriarty.â
Moriarty squeezed your hand once, and said to the stones, âHello. Itâs good to finally meet you both. Your daughter/son has been nothing but a sunrise in my life.â
The stones didnât talk back, they never would, but Moriarty continued on.Â
He chatted for another ten minutes to your parents. He talked about meeting you, how he fell in love with you, and what the two of you planned on for the wedding.Â
And for the first time in too many years, you felt the ache in your chest ease.
Hey, could I request a one-shot where we have Uni!Reader who studies linguistics and is bilingual in idk how many languages and Sherlock uses them as a source like for example the Chinese Yakuza deciphring or smt and it's fluffy in some places? Dunno, he could just adore the drive the reader has for perfecting this skill or so. Thanks and welcome baaaaaaack
The prompt: Above
Genre: Sweet like sugar
Rating: K+
Reader type: Uni!Reader who studies linguistics and is fluent in several languages.Â
Languages were fascinating.
From all over the world, from dozens of different eras, people learned to communicate with one another. Verbally, non-verbally, through their words or actions. And while at first glance they could all seem so vastly different from one another - they actually werenât.
From a young age, as the child of a diplomat, you were exposed to a multitude of different languages. It forced you to adapt to better understand those you talked to. You rapidly devoured new languages introduced, and once you had mastered your third new language you discovered something amazing.
At the core of all languages there was this intuitive pattern. A guide everyone, everywhere, followed. As soon as you discovered this extraordinary thing you began your journey into linguistics.
From dead, to current, every language had this pattern at its core, and you loved it.
Seeing that pattern made you feel connected to the language in a way that could never be accurately described.
You loved it.
You were enamored by it.
So much so, that as soon as you could choose your future, you headed off to a fine university in London to study linguistics.Â
And in doing so, you inadvertently met with one Sherlock Holmes.
By your first semester everyone knew you were the person to go to when it came to foreign languages. You had shown your fluency for French, Japanese, Mandarin, English, German, Latin, Gaelic, Korean, and Russian. Your intimacy with these languages even went as far as to understanding their slang, and dialect. You were a prodigy.
 This, inevitably, brought you into the radar of Sherlock Holmes.
He was an eccentric man with such piercing blue eyes. He asked you to do some translations for him, and you found yourself agreeing without issue.
With ease, you translated what was provided.
He left without another word, and you didnât see him for three weeks.
He returned, more languages to be translated, and you did so with ease.
Another week passed, and he came back.
Then he returned the next day.
And the following day.
He seemed to have realized that what he brought you, you found laughably easy.
This seemed to spark an interest in him, and he started to actively find and bring you complex pieces of literature. Some of them fluidly mixed together different languages, and others were straightforward.
You translated all of them within the hour, and Sherlock Holmes was downright impressed.
(He didnât say it, but he had this spark in his eyes when he looked at you, and it made you laugh.)
âWhy are you laughing?â he asked you, tone flat, despite the shimmer of interest in his gaze.Â
âYou! Youâre interested in me,â you laughed, and he curled his lips back into a sneer. âI can read any language, Sherlock. Even yours.â
âI speak English, so I would certainly hope so,â he snapped testily.
âYou may speak English, but your body has its own language,â you said with a teasing smile. âShall I translate it?â
He didnât respond. At first glance, one would find him icy, and furious at your remarks, but you could easily tell he was actually flustered. He left, and you giggled quietly to yourself.
Similar prompt(s): P is for Pregnancy, O is for Opportunity for Parenthood, M is for Marriage
You took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and stared down at the pregnancy test.Â
You were a smart woman. You saw the signs, and you put the pieces together. You knew it was a possibility - protection was not 100% - but you didnât want to believe it. You didnât want to even acknowledge it.
Pregnant.
You, one of the best field agents for Her Majesty, were pregnant.
At first, you could only stare numbly down at the stick, your normally quick-witted mind slowed down due to the shock. You slumped down onto the bathroom floor, pressing your back against the cool tiled walls. Under normal circumstances you would never sit in a public bathroom, but your legs somehow gave out and you couldnât help but completely crumble under the weight of your new responsibility.Â
At least the bathroom you were using was clean. Her Majestyâs secret serviceâs headquarters was pristine from top to bottom. A precedent demanded by your superior, Mycroft Holmes.Â
Time moved too quickly. While you were still dealing with the news, it marched on to its own beat, and somehow you had ended up sitting in that small bathroom for over an hour.
You managed to force yourself to get up when your legs began to cramp up from sitting in such an uncomfortable position for too long. You washed your face, wrapped up the test in toilet paper, and tossed it in the bin for tampons. You straightened up your clothes, took a deep breath, and then it hit you.
You were pregnant.
You were pregnant.
You were going to be a mother!
You were a field agent hired by Her Majestyâs secret service.
You had an abundant of enemies. You lost count of how many times terrorists, or enemies of Her Majesty, attempted to kidnap or outright kill you. You dealt with the worst of the worst all for the sake of your country.Â
People would do anything to hurt you.
Your hand flew down to your stomach, hovering protectively over your unborn child.
Terror shot through you.
Sick, cold, clamoring horror made you gag. You retched over the sink, just as the bathroom door opened up and one Mycroft Holmes stepped inside. âGone for an hour... sick, Miss Y/N? If you are sick, head home.â
The paralyzing panic inside of you kept you still, your mouth trying in vain to work. You wanted to say: No. Iâm not sick.
You wanted to say: Iâm fine.Â
You wanted to say: Iâm not pregnant.
But none of those were true.
You were sick. Sick with fear. Fear for yourself. Fear for your child. Fear for the future. It was overwhelming, and once again you found your knees growing weak and trembling. You bowed your head over the sink, biting hard on your lip to keep from crying.Â
It was such an uncharacteristic display of vulnerability and emotion. You, a valued field agent, were not prone to expressing yourself.Â
Especially at work.
This immediately troubled Mycroft, realizing that something was very wrong with the situation. He shifted his weight uncomfortably, his face twisting into something closer to worry. âMiss Y/N?â
âIâm pregnant,â the words crawled out of your throat like a ghoulish zombie rising from the grave. Saying it out loud somehow made it even worse, and you almost gagged again.
A flicker of disbelief over his face, followed by panic, then understanding. He stepped toward you, his hand stretched out. Gently, he placed it over your back. He was never one for physical affection. He didnât truly understand how to properly comfort someone, or provide them with reassurances.Â
But for you, he would try.
âIt will be okay,â he told you.
You raised your head, tears in your eyes. âHow?â
He gave you that rare smile. That fleeting, half-crooked smile that only you - only ever you - got to see. âBecause I will make sure of it.â
Hello! Iâm new to this blog, or well Iâm new to tumblr, but I was wondering if itâd be able to request an imagine or oneshot (Iâm not quite sure which you do). I really loved your writing for the ABC prompts, and Iâm extremely curious to see how you write for one focused character. Iâm glad to hear that you are back and canât wait to read more from you!
Welcome to tumblr and the blog!Â
I can do prompts / imagine / scenarios / one shots / headcanons. Iâm open to all characters for the BBC Sherlock-verse.Â
I will not do anything NSFW, though. That includes smut / gore / cruelty.Â
Yes, I'm going to join and discuss how much we've we missed you. It's nice to see you writing again, and I agree. Seeing John would satisfy me to. This wait was worth it, but I hope we can see you more often
Thank you so much! If you have a John prompt or hc, send it on in!Â
You have no idea i screamedwhen i saw the notif that you posted again! I'm glad tho I'm sorry to hear about the block! Will you include the JohnxReader when you are in the mood? That could be interesting too:) And will you include other fandoms maybe? Anyway, thank you for the updates, I'm sure everyone who follows you appreciates it! Take care!
Iâll write any and all characters, including Mr. John Watson.Â
Rating: R (WARNING: unhealthy / dangerous relationships)
SHERLOCK MASTERLIST
Boy, these are some of the worst people youâd want as a yandere.
Sherlock Headcanons
He is all about âprotectingâ you.
Sherlock is intimately familiar with the depravity of human nature. He understands, better than anyone else - certainly better than you - how utterly savage, and awful human beings are.
He knows the statistical average of how many serial killers are currently at large in London. He knows the average of how many murderers, rapists, thieves, and so forth, currently operate in London. He knows these facts by heart, and it is with this knowledge that he acts.
You didnât understand, he told you. You didnât see the truth of human nature, the horror of it.
It was why he had to protect you. He had to be with you every time you left the flat. He had to make sure no one would try to take you, try to hurt you.Â
He knew humans, and you did not.Â
It was why you didnât notice that cashier!Â
That cashier who stared at you too long must have been dangerous. Sherlock could tell immediately, and that was why he had to get you out of there. He had to get you back home, where it was safe, and then he had to make sure that the cashier would never, ever, hurt you.
And when he got home, and told you it was time to move far, far, away it would be best if you did not argue.
Arguing might mean that Sherlock would have to take drastic actions to keep you safe.
Like drugging you.
Tying you up.
Throwing you into a trunk, and taking you far, far away.
It would safest to go along with Sherlock to this âfar, far awayâ home that he had prepared. A place so isolated the two of you could finally live in peace. There was no need for neighbors, or a town. Everything could be delivered - and Sherlock would always be the one to pick up the mail, or answer the door.Â
You had no need to see your family, or friends again. They could not be trusted.Â
You could work from home, or not at all and let Sherlock provide for the two of you.
You really only needed him, he said.Â
Sherlock only wanted to keep you safe, after all.
So surely, for him, you could let him?Â
âStay here with me, stay safe with me.â
Mycroft Headcanons
He would be a âcontrolâ focused yandere.
Itâs important to know that Mycroft knows best. He knows what you want and need better than you do!
Heâll commit all of your favorite things to memory, and surprise you with them.Â
But when things get sour - as all relationships do at some point - Mycroft isnât afraid to make the necessary precautions to keep you safe, happy, and his.
Even if that would mean locking you away in some far off location, and only he would keep the key. For your happiness, he would tell you what to eat, when to eat, when to sleep, what to wear, what to read... everything in your life would be orchestrated by him.
Because Mycroft knows best.
Fighting back would be hard, and dangerous. This man has so many connections that itâs doubtful you would ever be free from him. Even if his brother chose to help you, itâs no guarantee.Â
If you do choose to still fight back and try to escape, you will be met with clinical fury.Â
He just wants you to understand that heâs only trying to help you. He needs you to accept his help, or he might start to lose his temper with you.
While itâs highly unlikely heâll go so far as to kill you, he very well may do what he can to break your mind.
He knows best, so he knows how to take care of you... including a catatonic, traumatized version of you.
So accept his help. Play your part. Obey his every command, and heâll treat you like a prized possession.
He loves you more than anyone else in the world, after all.
Only he could take such good care of you.Â
Only he could have you. Â
âMy own little doll.âÂ
Moriarty Headcanons
This guy is d a n g e r o u s
 Murder-suicide is an honest ending for Yandere!Moriarty and you, so you have to be extremely careful with this guy.
He wonât let you leave. There is absolutely no option for you to leave him once heâs got you. Heâll invite you up to his home (and it will filled with special rooms in case you disobey him) and then you simply wonât be allowed to leave.
Itâs not like he thinks heâs protecting you or anything (because he knows heâs the most dangerous man out there). But he will not tolerate the idea of someone else looking at you, let alone being with you. He wants you all to himself.
Heâll eliminate anyone who tries to search for you. Family, friends, coworkers, officers⊠it doesnât matter. Within days you wonât exist to the outside world and anyone who would have remembered you would be dead and buried.
There wonât even be a single picture of you on the internet.
As long as you behave heâll treat you like royalty. Heâll buy whatever you want as long as itâs not something he disapproves of.
He demands absolute obedience. Even one murmur of disobedience will be systematically punished. He wonât want to mar your precious skin, but he can be extremely cruel in other ways.
Heâll be very affectionate, though. Heâll wake you up with kisses and take you dancing around his penthouse. Heâll cuddle with you, hold you, and watch movies with you. Heâll go out of his way to make you smile (as long as you donât ever fight him or try to leave.)
This guy is not above breaking you to get his way. If you resist too much heâll b u r n you. He will ruin you to the point that you literally cannot live without him. And if by some miracle you retain a will to fight against him heâll kill you and then himself.
If youâre able to have children heâll probably want to rush a child on you, because thatâll be an easy way for him to control you.
No more than one, though, because he doesnât want to share you too much.
The prompt: Very Bad Timing: They saw finding the perfect someone requires a a good deal of luck, patience⊠and timing
Genre: Fluff, sweet, kind
Reader type: General!reader
Rating: K+
SHERLOCK MASTERLIST
Sherlock Scenario
It was an awful day.
Truly, truly an awful day. The kind of day where you honestly wanted to go home, curl into a ball under a blanket, and cry into a tub of ice cream.
Not only was work incredibly stressfulâfrom a combination of a mean boss, idiotic coworkers creating more work for you, and stupid dramaâbut you ripped your favorite shirt, your trusted shoes fell apart, your umbrella was stolen (âborrowed without asking by a coworkerâ), and you could not find a single cabby.
You called for one an hour ago as soon as you noticed the heavy downpour, but since it hadnât bothered to show up you decided to make a break for it and try to get on a bus.
You missed the bus.
You were starving, and it was starting to get dark. You really had to get home because oh my God could this day get any worse?
In a fit of anger and desperate need to get home you decided to walk. If you managed to find a cabby then great, if not, youâll get home sooner or later.
So you started walking down the bustling streets in the pouring rain without an umbrella and only a very light coat.
You were cold, sore, furious, and on the verge of tears.
If today wasnât Friday, meaning no work tomorrow, you would have already been sobbing (inwardly) at the thought of having to go back to work tomorrow.
Onwards, you trekked through the freezing rain, hoping against all hopes to catch a cab when suddenlyâ
One catches your attention. You wave (rather frantically) towards it and it (oh thank you, God) pulls over to the curb.
Just as you reach out a hand to open the door another hand shoots out and opens the door.
Youâre so caught off guard by the sudden rudeness, all you can do is gape as a tall man ushers another man inside the cab. âCome on, Watson. Itâs finally starting to get interesting.â
âUh, Sherlock?â The man dubbed as Watson questions, staring at you with wide eyes. âI believe this young wo/man was about to use it.â
Sherlock turns to you, looks you up and down, and flatly says, âCatch another one.â
After everything you went through today, and after an hour of walking in freezing hell, some part of you broke.
With a scream of fury you threw yourself at the dickwad who would dare deny your warm cabby. You knocked him straight into the sidewalk, kneed him as hard as you could into the stomach and then made a lurching jump into the open cabby .
âDrive,â you barked at the cabby driver.
You didnât look back at the utterly flabbergasted man that laid on the street. You didnât care enough to do so.
All you could think about was home, which meant food and a hot bath.
(Un?)Fortunately for you, Sherlock would be back in your life within the hour to question you about your landlord that doubled as a serial killer who was obsessed with you.
(Wow, what a night for you, huh?)
Even after that whole case, though, your timing could not have been odder. Like perfect clockwork you and Sherlock ran into each other on every case that took the detective outside his flat. It was such a strange thing that Sherlock actually started to investigate you, saying he was wondering if you were planning his murder after the cabby-incident.
Of course, you werenât, and he knew that.
In fact, it would come about years later after your lovely wedding with said detective that he orchestrated every âcoincidenceâ meeting after looking into after the cabby event. He felt⊠intrigued by your reaction, and after saving you from the landlord serial killer you managed to further catch his attention.
After all, it wasnât every day someone literally tackled him in the street over a cabby.
A day that would, evidently, change the entire course of your life.
If it werenât for that tiny moment you wouldnât have caught your future husbandâs attention.
Mycroft Scenario
You stared down at the gift certificate in your hand, wondering how much worse your timing could have been.
You had entered a raffle at work hoping to win the grand prize: all expenses paid five day vacation anywhere in the world.
The grand prize had attracted nearly every worker to rush to grab a raffle ticket in life. Through sheer dumb luck the person in front of youâwho cut in front of youâgrabbed the ticket and won.
If you had told that person to head back to the line you would have been the one holding that prized ticket.
You could have been anywhere you wanted in the whole world.
Instead, you won a gift certificate to some high-end pastry shop in London.
It wasnât a bad prizeâI mean who didnât love pastries?âbut boy did you really need that vacation.
You couldnât resist glaring sullenly at your prize, wishing it was something else.
Letâs get this started, you told yourself. The certificate expired tomorrow, after all. You didnât want it to go to waste.
You headed inside the classy shop, the smells of freshly baked goods and chocolate filling your nostrils. Everything looked positively decadent and smelled heavenly. You couldnât resist licking your lips once before approaching the  maĂźtre de and presenting your gift certificate. The well-dressed man looked it over before giving you a polite smile. âAllow me to seat you. This is for our VIP section.â
âAh, thanks,â you mumbled, following behind the older man. He took you up the marble staircase and lead you into a quiet, classy-decorated room. He seated you by the window and presented you with a menu filled with odd-sounding names.
You searched for anything familiar, like cake, but found nothing.
I honestly have no idea what to pick, you thought to yourself, your eyes widening in genuine surprise. I knew this place was fancy, but jeeze is any of this English?
You chewed on your bottom lip as you thought.
âMight I suggest the baumkuchen opera?â
You looked up sharply to find a handsome and well-dressed man giving you a polite smile from a table across from yours. âIâm sorry, what?â
âThe baumkuchen opera. You looked a little lost,â the man explained.
âOh,â you said. âThank you, I am, actually. Iâve never really been to this sort of place. Whatâs a baumkuchen?â
âA cake,â he answered.
âCanât go wrong with cake,â you said. âThanks. Um, Iâm Y/N.â
âMycroft,â the man returned.
You hesitated for a split second before trying out a warm smile. âWant to join me, Mr. Mycroft? Iâll need sides to go with my cake, after all and you seem to know what to pick.â
The man looked momentarily surprised before he smiled back at you. âI suppose youâre right. Iâd be delighted to, Y/N.â
Hm. Maybe my timing isnât too bad, you thought to yourself.
Hi there, I found your blog a couple of data ago and i was wondering if you are still active and writing the ABC, 'cause i love them! Take care!
I am still active, but Iâve been working on other things. This is my side blog and unfortunately my muse is hiding from the Sherlock fandom. :( Really sorry about the long wait!Â
Reader type: Booklover!reader for Sherlock, and Gardener!reader for Moriarty. Standard nice reader.Â
Rating: K+
SHERLOCK MASTERLIST
Sherlock ScenarioÂ
You smiled at the cashier as she scanned the books you were buying. It was quite the stackâeleven decently sized books to be exactâand you felt a little sheepish. You had come to the bookstore only intending to purchase one, but you got side-tracked easily at the New Releases and Discount sections.
Sherlockâs flat wasnât too far, thankfully, so you would be okay to carry them there.
The cashier double bagged the books for you after you finished paying. She managed to fit everything into two bags, thankfully, so your trip home wouldnât be so arduous.
With a good grip on each bag you started to make your way to the front door in the large store when you noticed the weather.
It wasnât uncommon for London to have gray clouds covering the entire sky, but it was uncommon for them to be so heavy and dark that daytime looked like night.
And you could now hear the hard rain slapping against the window.
Oh, you thought to yourself.
It wasnât supposed to rain today. It was perfectly sunny when you left that morning, so you had no reason to suspect rain. Naturally you didnât bring your umbrella, and even if you had it was doubtful youâd be able to carry all your books and use the umbrella.
Should I wait it out? You glanced towards the Starbucks in the store, wondering if it would be best to have lunch here and wait out the worst of it. But then what if it only gets worse?
You didnât want to order a cab because the flat was literally a few blocks away. It would be a waste of money. Not to mention who knew how long it would take for a cab to even show up.
Run for it?
Tempting, but you really didnât want to get your books soaked.
Just as you were about to start moving towards the coffee shop the front doors swung open and a disheveled Sherlock walked in with a fairly large umbrella.
The two of you immediately met one anotherâs gaze and you offered your boyfriend a smile. âFancy meeting you here.â
Sherlockâs gaze lowered towards the bulging bags you carried. His lips twitched upwards in a flash of amusement before he quickly crossed the distance between the two of you and grabbed one of the bags. âYouâre too predictable, Y/N.â
You only smiled in response as you walked out of the store with Sherlock. He easily held the umbrella between the two of you, and carried one of the bags on the outside. You switched grips on the other bag so that way you could walk closer to your boyfriend.
âBeing predictable saved me a very wet trip home,â you responded.
âHaving an excellent boyfriend such as myself saved you a wet trip home,â Sherlock corrected.
âThat, too,â you agreed amicably.
Mycroft Scenario
âAh.â
The sound slipped out of your mouth without much thought. It couldnât have been helped, really, since you were so genuinely caught off guard. You had taken one tiny step outside your home and opened your umbrella when all of a sudden a sharp wind had literally ripped your umbrella right out of your hands and shot it up high into the sky.
You watched your umbrella dance in the wind for several moments before landing at the top of one of the nearby trees in front of your home.
Mycroft made a small hmm sound at that, raising a single eyebrow. âNot paying attention, my dear?â
You could only give a sheepish smile in return. You knew it was raining rather heavily outside, but you hadnât expected such a strong wind.
It made you reluctant to leave the front porch, car waiting or not.
Mycroft gave a put-upon sigh, turning towards you and tugging up the collar of your jacket so it would cover your cheeks. He brushed back a bit of your hair, and then gently pulled you into him with one arm around your shoulder. With his free hand he expertly opened his umbrellaâand held onto itâbefore raising it to cover you.
âCome along then. I will not let go.â
You thought about making a smart retort, but decided against it because it wouldnât be terribly surprising if Mycroft accidently tilted the umbrella to get you soaking wet on the way to the car.
He might have been a gentleman most of the time but he was still a Holmes, which meant he could be bratty when he wanted to.
âThank you,â was all you said in return, swallowing your sass.
You really didnât want to sit soaking wet in the car on the way to Mrs. Holmes, after all. It was already going to be a long enough day when you told her about the engagement.
âNot feeling nervous, are you?â Mycroft inquired, his lips twitching as he fought back a sardonic smile.
âShut up and hold the umbrella before I tackle you into the mud.â
âYes, dear.â
Moriarty Scenario
You sat on the penthouse rooftop with your eyes closed. The gentle rain fell against your skin feeling cool and refreshing. The day had been a hot one, and the sudden light rainfall was welcoming. Your hands were caked in dirt because you had been working on the garden for most of the morning.
Since moving in with Jim you were unceremoniously âgroundedâ at his skyscraper. Everything you could ever want, or need was brought to you. You could work remotely (if you ever had the desire to do so), and any reason for you to leave was effectively taken care of.
That being said you couldnât simply remain inside for the rest of your life. You craved the sunlight and fresh air only outside could provide.
So Jim dolled up the rooftop penthouse into a beautiful garden. With a press of a button a greenhouse ceiling would fold over the entire rooftop and keep out the worst of the weather. He was prepared to hire a gardener to take care of the nature-oriented area, but you declined.
It was something to do, and there was something nice about smelling the roses that you cared for.
(And you had to admit there was a bit of a romantic attraction to caring for a garden. In London you would be hardpressed to find a decent enough apartment with enough room on the balcony for a few plants, let alone an entire proper garden.)
You could close the rooftop, or grab an umbrella if you so choose to do so, but you remained where you were: sitting on a beautiful stone bench beside the roses.
This feels nice, you thought to yourself, taking in the moment.
Then you stopped feeling the rain against your face, so you opened your eyes and found Jim leaning above you and holding an umbrella. âAfternoon, love.â
âAfternoon,â you greeted in return, smiling with affection. âYouâre back? Howâd it go?â
âWell as expected, so it was dreadfully boring,â Jim said with a sigh, looking you over. âYouâre soaked.â
âThe rain felt nice.â
âYouâll catch a cold if you stay out here like that. Itâs going to get cold tonight,â Jim said, offering you his hand. You placed your own, rather dirty, hand inside his. âCome on, letâs get you into a warm bath.â
âOh, that does sound nice,â you admitted, standing up and glancing over at your roses. âWeâll have to turn the heater on tonight if itâs going to get too cold.â
âOf course,â Jim agreed. âCome along, love. Letâs get you taken care of.â
You leaned towards Jim and placed a brief kiss on his cheek. âThank you.â
Rating: T for violence, horror, kidnapping, and death. Please be aware of any possible triggers in regards to being kidnapped and their reaction.Â
SHERLOCK MASTERLIST
Sherlock Headcanons
P A N I C
This guy is full on frantic. Weâre talking shaky hands, wild eyes, meaner than usual, quick to snap, and pacing furiously in his mind palace.
And if, goodness forbids, he knows youâre being harmedâ
Oh itâs simply unthinkable to him why anyone would ever want to hurt you. He is furious. His eyes will be burning with absolute rage and hatred.
He is going to find you. Heâs not going to be showy about it because he is beside himself with worry.
All he wants is for you to be safe in his arms again.
So he will find you. If he needs to ask for help he will do so. Heâs not going to let his pride get in the way of your safe return.
When he finds you if youâve been injured his first priority will be getting you to a hospital. You will be his number one concern and focus. You, above all else, need to be safe and okay.
Youâre gonna get a full police escort. Youâll be heavily guarded by Mycroftâs men. Youâll be protected 24/7 until the monster who took you is apprehended, or dead.
Once he knows youâre safeâand you better believe heâs kissing you all over and squeezing you so tightly it hurts a little bitâthen his next goal is to hunt.
He will not rest until the bastard who harmed you is dead, or thrown into the darkest pit and forgotten.
N o t h i n g will stop him.
Tbh heâll probably be a little dramatic about his hunt for vengeance and yâknow heâs gonna psychologically harass / torture that sonuva for a good bit. He wants that monster to suffer for what s/he did.
Sherlockâs smart enough to know how to hurt someone without leaving a trace.
When the deed is done (and how messed up the villain is will be directly proportionate to how much s/he harmed you) heâll return to your side and hold your hand tightly.
He wonât be letting you out of his sight any time soon.
100% has your back through the recovery. If you have to deal with PTSD, or other long-term effects from the traumatic experience he will do his absolute best to accommodate you.
Heâs not the best at comforting, but he will be doing extensive research in how to handle night-terrors and flashbacks. He has some experience with John, but Johnâs relatively well-adjusted and knows how to self-comfort.
If you need anything he will do everything in his power to provide it.
Will never rush your recovery time. He might push you to try things if he honestly thinks it will help, but he will immediately back out if he sees itâs too much.
So many hugs and kisses after nightmares.
All the love and support this bby boy can provide will be yours.
âIâll protect you. I swear.â
Mycroft Headcanons
Hurrrk.
This hurts.
Right in the chest.
Heâs left breathless when he discovers youâve been taken. His vision will literally tilt as his whole world loses balance. The pure fear he feels for you in that one moment is staggering.
Then heâs repressed it and heâs all cold fury and meticulous planning.
Heâs going to find you.
Heâs going to kill anyone who hurt you. It will not be an easy death, either.
Heâll use every bit of resource, power, and money he has in order to guarantee your safe return (and eventual demise of whoever took you).
If, goodness forbid, that monster hurt youâ
Mycroft will have never felt so furious in his entire life. It would not be out of the question for Mycroft to personally see to that bastardâs torture.
When he finds you he will take you to a safe house with the best security he could provide, along with a therapist on standby and several doctors.
He will stay by your side and leave it to his subordinates (and Sherlock) to hunt down the monster who took you.
Mycroftâs priority is you, and your well-being.
When that villain is found s/he will be put to death. Mycroft will not chance a repeat. How long s/he suffers before death will be dependent on how much s/he harmed you.
Mycroft will hold you tightly in his arms and gently kiss your forehead.
Beyond supportive of any after-effects you have to go through after your experience. Heâs well-versed in psychological traumas so will be super helpful in coaxing you down from flashbacks or night terrors.
Whatever you need he will provide.
Absolutely no judgement for however long it takes for you to recover.
Everyone heals and processes things differently and what you went through was awful.
He only wants you to be happy, healthy, and safe.
âI will keep you safe, my dear.â
Moriarty Headcanons
Oh. My. God.
Heads are rolling. Buildings will crumble. The whole world is gonna be thrown into terror if someone dared to take you.
Not only will you be found the very day youâre takenâbecause hello, Criminal Mastermind who controls the undergroundâbut you can bet your sweet ass that heâs gonna be in a right furious mood for a good while.
He will make that monster plead for death by the time heâs done with âem. Moriarity wonât stop there, though. Oh, no. He has to make a statement. He will not let this be a repeat.
Heâll be meticulous. Every person that was friends, family, or colleagues with this monster will be taken out in a brutal fashion.
The place you were taken from? Burned to the ground.
The place you were held captive? Blown to smithereens.
Those that failed to protect you? Buried alive.
He is gonna make the world feel just as terrified and vulnerable as he felt when you were taken. He wants the world to suffer as much as he had.
If, goodness forbids, you were harmedâ
For every scratch, or bruise on your body is another city thatâs gonna suffer.
(Of course thereâs a good chance youâll be able to curb the worst of his anger with reassurances that youâre fine, and that you love him, and no of course you donât blame him for getting kidnapped. Maybe he wonât ruin entire cities. Maybe heâll just create a few dozen serial killers and set them loose.)
Heâs gonna be overly protective of you for years to come.
You are his whole world and the thought of ever losing you horrifies him.
Heâll be reluctant to leave your side any time soon.
You definitely wonât be able to leave his safe house with heavily armed guards for a good long while.
Lots of cuddles and kisses.
Heâll keep therapists and doctors on standby. Heâll be extremely supportive of any PTSD, or after-effects you have to go through from your kidnapping.
(It may trigger a few of his own night terrors, though, so please be aware)
The prompt: How do the boys handle summer vacation with their S/O?
Rating: K
SHERLOCK MASTERLIST
Sherlock Headcanons
Going on a summer vacation with Sherlock will be a struggle.
Mostly because he does not want to leave his beloved flat because the world is woefully boring.
Best way to entice Sherlock out on a vacation is to either 1.) go on your own and heâll follow along like the lovesick puppy he secretly is or 2.) find an enticing case to lure him out. If doing the second be prepared for him to get heavily involved with the case and frequently sneak out to investigate. And possibly force John to come along.
That being said regardless of what happens when Sherlock is actually at the destination heâll accompany you wherever youâd like to go (although if a case is involved he may leave halfway through and come back an hour later like nothing happened).
He may not be much of an activity person, but he loves you and wants you to be happy so heâll indulge your desires with minimal fuss.
Heâd enjoy seeing music shops, though. Especially one that handcrafts instruments like violins or violas.
His favorite part of the vacation will be seeing your happy face, though.
Going by train or boat will always be better than airplane. Sherlock gets antsy on planes and will be especially bratty if he has to be in close contact with strangers for a prolonged period of time.
If you absolutely do have to go by plane, be prepared to pay a little extra for roomier seats. Entirely worth it to prevent Sherlock snapping at someone and making them cry hysterically the whole way there.
He likes traveling by trains more than other mode of transportation because he likes to be able to move when he wants to.
Packs sparingly, only what he absolutely needs. This may or may not include his violin.
Will research the weather ahead of time.
Always prepared.
Mycroft
Mycroft isnât that hard to persuade to take on a vacation, but it will be difficult to find an appropriate time with his work. Itâll definitely take months of planning in advance to coordinate it and a good amount of luck to make sure no huge disaster happens to cancel the trip.
He likes to take vacations in quiet, relaxing places. A lovely cabin in the mountains would be his ideal trip.
He detests crowded areas. If you want to go someplace bustling then heâll of course come with you, but itâs really not his cup of tea.
That being said visiting authentic or local-exclusive restaurants will be his all-time favorite thing to do on vacation (aside from being with you, of course). He loves sampling and trying different kinds of foods.
Take him to a pastry shop and you will make his heart sing.
Inwardly, though. Outwardly heâll smile at you that special kind of smile reserved just for you.
Big fan of indoor activities.
Please donât make him go on roller coasters. Theyâre too⊠unclean and dull for him.
(Sherlock is enough of a roller coaster for him, thank you.)
He loves traveling by private jet.
Packs for everything.
âWhy are you packing wolf repellent? Weâre going to Paris.â
âYou never know, my dear.â
Moriarty
Definitely the adventurous type when it comes to vacations. He lives for thrills and excitements, so a calm and relaxing vacation will make him lose interest pretty quick.
But he does love going to really gimmicky, or obvious tourist-attraction places and acting like a stereotypical tourist.
Plans parts of the vacation to surprise you, but doesnât have every little detail planned out. Likes to be sporadic and random.
âLetâs go to Tokyo.â
âWe just got to Paris?â
He loves shopping with you. Will buy anything and everything that catches your attention.
Definitely wants to explore everywhere you go.
Donât be surprised if you wake up and he wants to go skydiving that morning.
Overall itâll be a very energetic and probably exhausting (in a good way) vacation.
Likes to go by boats, surprisingly enough. If he canât, then private jet is the only way to go. He hates traveling with strangers.Â
Doesnât pack (except his phone). Buys everything when he gets there.
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