#mtf sherlock

[mystery-deer]

There's antimony, arsenic...

  "John I need the...the thing." John looked up wearily from the book he was reading to see his flatmate leaning against the doorframe to his room, her eyes struggling to stay open and her clothes hanging off of her, giving her a slovenly look.

  "The thing? What thing? Are you drunk or high right now?" He really hoped it was the former, he didn't think he could deal with her being high after such a long time. 

 "Drunk, with Lestrade. I need the thing John." John sighed heavily, standing up and gently pushing her backwards, which, to his surprise, led to her falling over like a pile of bricks. "Ow, why?"

  "Sorry, I didn't think that you would....up we go, to the couch." He slung one of her arms over his shoulder and struggled to lift her up and drag her over to the couch. Sherlock moaned about the 'thing' she needed again and John rolled his eyes, dumping her onto the couch. "What thing?"

  "It's a....a bright thing. A....it's....John I really need it." John glanced longingly at his room, he could almost feel the cool pillow pressed against his cheek. "Jooohn."

  "Sherlock I haven't the faintest clue what you're talking about."

  "Sing the song."

  "What so- no, no Sherlock I am not going through this with you again."

  "But John-"

  "You may be a genius but I can't remember anything past Uranium."

  "Europium is next."

  "Great, cheers."

  "OH there's antimony, arsenic, aluminum, selenium..."

  "NO! Sherlock don't you dare!"

  "And hydrogen and oxygen and nitrogen and rhenium..." John listened in horror as Sherlock began to sing that infernal song once again, protesting every time she stopped to take a breath (which she ignored) until finally she stopped. "I figured it out."

  "What?" Asked John from his position face down on the floor.

 "Mercury, molybdenum, Magnesium. I need Magnesium!" Sherlock exclaimed, delighted, as she went over to her desk where she kept all of her materials, digging around draw after draw looking for magnesium.

 John watched in shocked silence for a moment before blinking slowly and standing, making his way back to his room. "Great, Sherlock?"   "Hm?" She replied, already lighting a Bunsen burner.

  "Next time just write it down."

[mystery-deer]

Sherlock drummed her fingers against the table as she read an article in the paper about a jewel she had recovered, frowning at how many times the reporter had addressed her as "he" and "the young man." She eventually got sick of it and began to tear the paper to shreds, muttering about how ignorant people were.

  John came into the flat, back from buying groceries and peeked his head inside Sherlock's room, a place he tried with all his might to stay away from. It smelled strongly of smoke and chemicals and he was positive he heard something growl at him one time. "Is that the paper? I was going to read that!" Sherlock made a humming sound that sounded like a short question. "If this is for an experiment why not use regular paper?"

    "Newspaper paper is different from regular paper and this isn't for an experiment." John raised an eyebrow and after making sure nothing would try to attack him he leaned against the doorframe. Sherlock glanced at him as she dumped the shreds of paper unceremoniously on the floor. "If you must know there was an article about a dashing man who returned a missing jewel in it." John looked confused for a moment, eyebrows furrowing.

   "But you and I were the ones who...oh." Sherlock looked away as John's face fell. "Oh Sherlock I'm so sorry.." She shrugged half-heartedly.

   "It's not that bad, no one reads the newspapers anyway." They both knew she didn't mean it and John marched across the room to wrap his friend in a bear hug. Sherlock protested softly but hugged him back, falling quiet after awhile. They both listened to the sounds of the flat, the people shouting upstairs and the cars honking outside. Somewhere in Sherlock's room something rustled and John placed his feet firmly on the bed.

   "Your room is disgusting." Sherlock chuckled but wiped away a tear that had snuck down her cheek. "I'm going to write my own article about you." She didn't reply but John didn't mind, rubbing her back in circles. "It's going to be ten times better than that newspaper one and it's going to let everyone who reads it know what an intelligent and beautiful and accomplished and absolutely mad woman you are." Sherlock smiled thinly at that and John knew that she was going to be okay.

   They spent the rest of the evening bad mouthing the reporter online and writing a new article about the stolen jewel's recovery (John wrote and Sherlock commented and pointed out errors in his work.) By the end of the day were both snickering and eating chips and discussing their next job, the newspaper article's remains burning into soot in the fireplace.

[eggsnbaconthisonestaken-blog]

On top of the world

Sherlock disliked not being taken seriously, either because the person saw her as a woman and therefore not worthy of being listened to or because the person saw her as a man dressing up as a woman and therefore not worthy of even acknowledging.

   She was lucky to have found Jo, lucky to have been with Jo for long. She had noticed that the woman was...attractive, yes, and interested in her as well. She always sat a bit closer than need be to Sherlock or touched her a bit longer than necessary, she didn't think that Sherlock noticed. But of course, Sherlock noticed everything, it was her job description in fact.

   She sometimes lay awake at night (or sat awake, or paced around the living room awake) thinking of Jo. How she sat with her back hunched a bit, how she complained about her knee hurting whenever it was going to rain like an old woman. How they had talked over dinner about if she had a boyfriend (not her area) or a girlfriend (no) and Jo had told her that it was all fine. Sherlock wondered if maybe it was worth a try...she sighed and plopped down in the armchair Jo usually sat in, it smelled like the cheap perfume she put on before dates. She closed her eyes and breathed in the smell, opening them a few hours later, dazed and confused by the sunlight targeting her.

    "Oh good, you're finally awake. I made tea and you're up just in time to enjoy it with me." Sherlock blinked sleepily at her companion, who was typing on her computer with one hand and holding her cup in the other. Sherlock groaned and curled up into a ball, muttering about how she hated the sun. "Hey! Don't fall back asleep, that's my favorite spot!" When this did nothing to inspire the detective to move Jo sighed and set down her cup of tea. "Lestrade called earlier-"

   "Tell Giovanni that I don't care about that double homicide."

   "His name's Greg and it wasn't about that, it's a serial killer, eight victims so far and no one's even close to catching him. All of the women were born men." Sherlock froze, waiting for Jo to say something hateful or ignorant about it. Jo took the other woman's silence as not being interested. "...Look if you don't want to take it I'll tell-"

   "Jo, what do you think of self made women?" Jo blinked, baffled by this line of questioning.

   "I assume you don't mean business women?" Sherlock shot her a look and Jo rolled her eyes. "Okay, trans women right? I don't understand it really, couldn't since I'm not, but I think that it must be hard...I'm glad that the medical world is being more open to helping people fix themselves." She looked back over at Sherlock to see that her friend's face was a mixture of fear and anger. "Are you okay? Why did you want to-"

   "I have something to tell you!" The words tumbled out of Sherlock's mouth inelegantly and rushed, she had wrapped her bathrobe tightly around herself. Jo flinched at the sudden volume change but nodded seriously. "I-I...I don't really know how to tell you this..." She stopped, trying to put the words together in a way that was most likely not to send her one and only friend packing. "I'm one...I'm trans." When Jo didn't respond immediately Sherlock went into panic mode and started to explain herself. "I know this is a hard thing to discover about me and if you don't...want to live with me anymore I'd completely understand but please don't tell anyone. I don't want you to leave of course but If you feel that you need to it's alright and I completely-" Jo had moved over to Sherlock's armchair and was kneeling, looking up at her.

    "Sherlock, I still want to live here. You're a woman to me no matter how I look at it and I can't see you any other way." She smiled softly, Sherlock admired how her cheeks dimpled when she did that and for a moment imagined her with smile lines and gray hair, the both of them in some remote country place sitting in rocking chairs. The thought quickly fled her mind when Jo started leaning up towards her for a kiss, her heart began to pound and she started leaning downwards to capture her lips in hers...

     The teapot began to shriek like a banshee, startling the two women out of their almost-kiss. Jo cursed loudly to be heard over the sound of the kettle and raced over to turn it off. Sherlock smiled and got up from Jo's seat, looking out the window at all the people bustling below. "Jo!" She called, feeling herself being filled with new energy. Her best friend accepted her for who she was and the love of her life had nearly kissed her, in all in all she felt invincible. "Call back George, I've decided I'll take both cases!"

[corrodedbattery]

Idk if you know this song, but John singing "She's Always a Woman" by Billy Joel to trans femlock when she's feeling dysphoric and self conscious.

I actually have this on vinyl also GOOD

[sherlockgenderheadcanons-blog]

Life is but a dream

Sherlock yawned and swung her feet, frustrated that they didn't reach the floor. "How much longer Myc?" Her brother responded with a disinterested grunt as he ran the brush through her hair, which was slowly getting longer now that she pitched a fit whenever her mother or father tried to cut it, stating "A gentleman's hair should never look so messy!" She liked her hair messy, and she wasn't a gentleman.

   She sighed heavily and kicked her feet harder, whining under her breath until Mycroft finally snapped. "You were the one who asked me to help you in the first place Sherlock!" She turned her head to smile at him, she was glad that he was here with her, being less than perfect.

    "Sing me a song!" She demanded, looking at herself in the mirror that Mycroft had given to her the last time they were alone. "And you're not doing it right, that's a ponytail not a braid!" Her brother rolled his eyes and undid his work, starting over again. He waited a few moments before choosing a song to sing.

   "Row, row, row, your boat gently down the stream..." He ran a brush through her hair, working out any tangles that may still be present after the last round. "Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream." He began to weave his younger sister's hair together into a loose braid, knowing that she liked it to look messy. She complained about it hurting if it was too tight and would make him do it again. "Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream..." He started to sing again, smirking. "If you see an alligator don't forget to scream!" He finished, reaching to tickle the little girl.

    Sherlock shrieked and fell out of her chair, Mycroft following to tickle her on the floor. "Mycroft stop! Stoppit, I-I can't!" She managed to choke out the words between giggles, kicking at him to try to get him off of her. "No faaaiir!" She whined once he stopped tickling her, looking proud of himself. "That's not part of the song!"

  "Consider it punishment for making me redo your hair three times." He stated, standing up and brushing himself off. "Now, I have to go see father and talk to him about something." Sherlock frowned as she watched him head for the door, stopping him by grabbing his shirt sleeve and glaring up at him. "Sherlock I have to-"

   "Play pirates with me instead! I'll let you be the captain this time if you do!" She pleaded with him, her voice getting high pitched as she tugged on his sleeve. "Please?" Mycroft stared at her for a moment, debating with himself before visibly giving in, his posture relaxing.

   "I suppose so, but Sherlock?" She paused her celebratory dance when she saw the grave look on Mycroft's face. Tilting her head and wondering if she did something wrong.

   "What?" Mycroft smiled and tussled her hair, to which she protested loudly.

   "I'd be a terrible captain."

[corrodedbattery]

John singing Tenerife Sea to trans femlock whenever she's feeling dysphoric and sad

John laying down next to her, rubbing little circles with their hand on her hip, kissing her in the pauses of the song

[watsonaname]

Sherlock loving on John's pudgy tummy and her stretch marks and John's awkward and embarrassed and says that "nobody likes stretch marks" but Sherlock reminds her that she loves Sherlock's surgery scars from when she got breasts so how's it different

Ugh. They’re always so sweet to each other. I love it.

[shamrockghoul-blog]

sassy and intelligent mtf Sherlock is my life right now