it is what it is...

here i just reblog and type shit up about johnlock, that's it really - [ main blog ]

[johnbeewatson-blog]

John: Why don't you text her back?

Sherlock: *gazes lovingly at the complete idiot in front of him*

[221beestings-blog]

221b floor plan

[textsfr0mbakerstreet]

Submission by drlecters2ndwife

[atikiology]

new rosie headcanon: at age 4-5 rosie gets really into fairytales and princes and princesses and all that jazz and she adores love stories and sherlock is so good at telling good night stories but they’re never about love, they’re always about adventures and good people defeating bad people and daddy and sherlock running through london at night chasing thieves and villains and it’s exciting but … there has to be more to it, right? so one evening she and john are sleeping over at 221B rosie asks sherlock to tell her a love story and sherlock starts out like “mmh well…um… once upon a time there was a princess in a land far far away,” and he’s already lost because he’s really not good with princes and princesses falling in love, and rosie interrupts him because he’s getting this all wrong anyway, a true love story has to be Real, so she asks if sherlock has ever been in love? and sherlock’s smile falters for a second and then it comes back, brighter than before but a bit bittersweet and maybe a bit sad, and he says “yes, once,” and rosie wants to know if it was a princess or a prince and sherlock tells her it was a prince, a beautiful, brave one who had faught many battles and defeated bad people and healed good ones before he met sherlock, and the very first night they spent together an evil cabbie tried to kill sherlock, but his new friend, his prince, saved sherlock’s life and sherlock fell in love instantly – and rosie asks why sherlock and the brave man he fell in love with are not together and sherlock just smiles and explains to her that the prince didn’t love sherlock back, not like that, he fell in love with a beautiful woman a while later and even married her, and that’s okay because when you really love someone, sometimes you have to give them up so they can be happy. sometimes love stories are a bit sad but they’re still love stories, and sherlock has many happy memories with the man he loves and that’s enough, and sherlock is slowly starting to feel extremely weird, opening up about unrequited love to a 5 year old who should have been asleep 30 minutes ago, the subject of the conversation being her father who’s waiting downstairs with the tea that’s getting cold but… sherlock just keeps going, he can’t really stop, until rosie is sleepy enough for him to give her a good night kiss on the forehead and switch the light off.

so the thing is, rosie is not an idiot and when they’re sitting at the breakfast table the next morning she fumbles with her toast gives sherlock a look and says, “is it daddy?” and sherlock nearly drops his fork and says “What” and rosie just completely matter-of-factly says “the prince. the one you fell in love with. who saved you from the cabbie. i think it’s daddy” and. sherlock and john on opposite ends of the kitchen table just. fucking dying.

[80scifi]

pl e ase my crops are Dying

[fideliant]

😏

[docclaras]

Sherlock & Toby

[johnbeewatson-blog]

sherlock: *holding rosie*

rosie: daddy...

john, internally: same

[craniuum]

[johnbeewatson-blog]

unrealistic expectations

Rosie: I think I'm gonna ask this person out on a date

Sherlock: have they killed for you

Rosie: no but-

John (from the other room): THEN THEY'RE NOT WORTH IT

[johnbeewatson-blog]

johnlock drabble to get through this week

It was a tranquil morning in Baker Street; one man coiled up in his armchair while another meandered around, scooping up scattered toys as he went. Neither one of them said a word to each other. They didn’t need to, really. Simply being in one another’s company was pleasurable enough. The small babble of a child eventually broke the peaceful silence, both parities glancing up from what they were doing to figure out why the noise had been made. After a moment of thought, Sherlock was the first one to talk,

“Hungry.” He stated with the utmost certainty.

“My bet’s on tired,” John commented, sounding just as confident as his counterpart.

The pair often had little ‘competitions’ like this, trying to figure out the baby before the other person did. The reward? Bragging rights, of course.

Currently, Rosie was sat upright in her father’s armchair, a soft, plush dinosaur clutched in one of her chubby yet delicate hands. The sound she had made was a soft whine, one obviously designed to get the attention of the two men who cared for her. John was the first to wander over, a bright grin on his face and he gently brushed his index finger against her smooth cheek,

“Is my little bumblebee getting tired?” He asked in a cooing voice knowing that half the time, whatever the question was, Rosie normally smiled and nodded, probably due to the caring voice. Unfortunately for him, that trick didn’t work this time and this was oh so fortunate for Sherlock now, though… He was taken off track by hearing the name ‘bumblebee’ being directed towards Rosie. Only he had called her that once before and they were alone at the time; John off having a shower leaving Sherlock to put her to bed. Damn it. John had been listening in on them, hadn’t he?

Standing up himself now, Sherlock loomed over John’s shoulder but despite his sly approach, the man was nothing but smiles as he beamed down at the young child. “She hasn’t yawned once, John. Tiredness is not the cause. Hunger? Could be. She’s a growing being, maybe she wants more frequent meals now? Also, while I’m proving you wrong, I’d love to ask a question; why did you listen in on Rosie and I the other night?”

That… Caught John by surprise. He didn’t think he would have been found out but the it all suddenly clicked in place - bumblebee. “Well, I…” He trailed off to clear his throat a little, twisting his head round to look over at the taller man. “I thought it was cute. I was going to leave the room completely but then I heard you muttering to her—”

‘Your daddy loves you a lot and so do I. We’re a family, my little bumblebee; the three of us against the world.’

God, just thinking back on it make John’s heart grow warm with everlasting joy. Sighing, John abandoned the end of his previous sentence, starting afresh instead. “You have no idea how happy it makes me when I see you bonding with her, Sherlock. I love her with all my heart and - despite you insisting that the heart does not process affection -I love you with all my heart too.” And that, people, is how you silence the great Sherlock Holmes. You remind him that there are people in his life who truly care about him. Love him. After blinking for a while, the expressionless man soon relaxed his features, a faint smile even tugging at his pink lips.

“I told you months ago that if you’re to be announcing your love for me, you ought to do it without the cheesy lines,” teased Sherlock, though secretly he adored it when his partner came out with his romantic lines. It made him human. It made then both human. “Anyway, back to the matter at hand— Oh bugger!” With that weak curse, John quickly snapped his head back round to look at his daughter, about to cover her ears before realising the reason why Sherlock had blurted that out.

She had fallen asleep.

“Ha! I win!” Boastful? John? Woah, not in a million years…

“I suppose it was a fair match,” muttered the defeated man, his hand reaching up to lightly rest on John’s shoulder, his thumb tracing small circles against the back of his shirt. “You’re an amazing dad, I can’t argue with that.”

“So are you, Sherlock. So are you. Never forget that, okay?”

[scullyseviltwin]

[chrispineofficial]

[soundsofmyuniverse]

When life gets too strange, too impossible, too frightening, there’s always one last hope. When all else fails, there are two man sitting, arguing in a scruffy flat. Like they’ve always been there and they always will. The best and wisest men out of all the rest. Two Baker Street boys. Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson.

[sturfadurf]

This is the part they didn’t show you in The Final Problem.

That rope was for Sherlock to climb down into the well to John. John had been struggling to keep his head clear of the water for a good while, and he was getting exhausted; hypothermia starting to set in. It was going to be another 10 minutes or so before the police arrived to unchain John and get all of them out of there, but that could seem an endless and fatal time for a fatigued man barely able to get a gasp of air. 

Sherlock was quite a bit taller than John, so he took it upon himself to clamber down into the well and take on John’s weight so his friend could rest. How overwhelmed with relief he must be to be able to finally save his best friend from that cursed well. At this moment, it’s just the two of them, nothing else and no one else mattered.

(Discontinuity Error: I forgot to add the skull and some bones; I might add them later but who knows)

[captain-flint]

Do something while there’s still a chance, because that chance doesn’t last forever.

[johnbeewatson-blog]

john and sherlock being domestic: john redecorating the flat while sherlock teaches rosie how to talk, though not having too much luck

[mr-brightside24]

i’m just going to leave this here

[3s0i4-deactivated20180220]

put it back