#Martha Louise Hudson

[satureja13]

Ji Ho's Therapy Game It starts -> here

It's a two day ride to the east from the Castle to Goldshire and the Princess took her time to get to know her future subjects. The Royals need the good publicity after the righful Heir had to leave. And the folks liked her a lot. Like Ji Ho in real life, the mermaid princess radiates sunshine and gives everyone around her the feeling of being welcomed and accepted and loved. It just feels so good to be near her. The word had spread that Princess Jihovere would visit Goldshire and so the Mayor and the dwellers already awaited her eagerly. (Well not exactly everyone, given Martha's face ^^' Is she jealous?)

Vendor: "The Princess is here!" Stefan: "She's even more beautiful than on Social Bunny!" Sara: "Aouwww I love her outfit! I bet the Queen chose it!" Mayor: "Welcome your Highness! We are delightfully at your service!" Martha: "Tch!"

After they greeted each other, the Princess showed the photo of the statue around and asked if anyone had seen this man. She didn't tell them who he was, though, to not turn them against her (should they still believe the hate posts about the reightful Heir's descent are justified) and to not start unnecessary rumors about her supposed marriage with Prince Caleb. One step at a time. The Mayor told the Princess that, a while ago, a handsome stranger visited Goldshire who looked alike the statue. He had no money and made a secret about his status so they quickly sent him westwards to the Castle so the Queen could verify his status. Mayor: "I hope he didn't cause any trouble at court? We would be devastated if." Princess Jihovere: "No. Not at all. He is a dear friend who went missing." Mayor: "Oh. We should have treated him better then. I apologize. To be honest, he acted like a criminal and he insisted to work for the sculptor! No one works for the sculptor." Princess Jihovere: "Don't worry. You did nothing wrong." And since Vlad found his ingame version molded in stone, they still need to know what happened to NPC Vlad after Vlad left Goldhire and logged out - so she also asked about him, but everyone claimed there hadn't been another stranger around lately... weird.

Meanwhile Stefan cared for Yang Mal. Which is also weird, the Princess expected Lou to. But he wasn't around and his shop was closed...

The dwellers prepared their most famous vegan dishes for the Princess and they had a delicious meal together. Sara interrogated Princess Jihovere about the latest fashion trends at Court. Gia laughed: "Let her breathe ^^' " But the Princess didn't mind. (Martha in the background still sulking ^^')

When the Princess asked about Jack, the mood turned gloomy. Everyone here likes him and they hope he will return back to Lou soon. They are so sweet together 💞 But no one had a clue why Jack ran away.

Suddenly an upset rooster interrupted them and shooed them loudly cackling over to the Sculptor's shop.

Where the bat was! But the shop was closed too and Sara told Princess Jihovere that the Sculptor left Goldshire to visit his partner in Bacalao Bay. She also spilled that many here think the Sculptor is acting suspicious. He is a witcher and it is said he keeps company with the underworld - demons and stuff. Hence anyone in their right mind refuses to model for him ö.Ö'

Sara sent the route to Bacalao Bay to the Princess' phone. It isn't far away.

It wasn't that late and Princess Jihovere said goodbye to reach Bacalao Bay before dusk. It sounds too promising to lose any more time! Maybe the sculptor knows how to find the demon that stole Jack's heart! After the Princess left, the village folk met in the pub to discuss the Royal Visit. (No photo of Martha and the Princess ^^')

They posted their selfies with the Princess on Social Bunny and got lots of likes and reblogs for their sweet pics🐇👑💖 And (almost) everyone agreed that the kind and beautiful Princess was the, by far, best choice to marry their future King. (Whoever it may be o.o)

And the radio in the Lion's Pride Inn was playing:

'When I'm lonely, well, I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who's lonely without you And when I'm dreamin', well, I know I'm gonna dream I'm gonna dream about the time when I'm with you When I go out, well, I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who goes along with you And when I come home, yes, I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who comes back home with you I'm gonna be the man who's comin' home with you But I would walk five hundred miles And I would walk five hundred more Just to be the man who walked a thousand Miles to fall down at your door'

Let's hope the Princess comes home with her King 💕

I'm gonna be (500 miles) - The Proclaimers What a coincidence, again a MV with Johnny Depp. This song was the title track of 'Benny and Joon' in which he played Sam. (This is also the song that played in a loop in Marshall Eriksen's car in How I Met Your Mother. And: the song that played in a loop in Rita's truck when the Boys went on their first weekend trip to Henford! ^^')

The Therapy Game Master Post with the sessions and places so far is -> here

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: 'Who killed Jack?' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

[j-eryewrites]

It Was a Rainy Day

Part One of The Arbitrary Lives of the Occupants of 221 B Baker Street

Word Count: 4.9k

Thanks to @bartokthealbinobat for helping me edit this chapter!

Next 

SERIES MASTER LIST | MAIN MASTER LIST 

I'm planning this to be an ongoing Sherlock x Reader series that mainly flows the plot of the BBC series. Let me know what you would like to see.

DISCLOSURE: I do not own any of the characters and plot. Those belong to BBC and Arthur Conan Doyle.

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“On behalf of our crew, we thank you again for choosing to fly with BWA Airlines. Please stay seated until the seat belt sign has been turned off. We will begin exiting the plane soon.” The speakers above chimed.

Immediately, chatter filled up the air. People were anxious to get off the plane. In all honesty, they had just endured an eight-hour international flight. Ching. The glow from the seatbelt sign flashed off, signaling for people to stand up and stretch their legs. Y/N would have taken the opportunity to stretch her legs, but she was seated next to the window towards the back of the plane. She didn’t think she would be standing up any time soon. Instead, Y/N occupied herself with the view outside of her window. 

The sky was an opaque gray. Numerous dark clouds of the same hue covered the warm light of the sun, stopping it from gracing its presence. It was raining. A typical forecast for London in September. But it wasn’t a gentle rain; the rain that tickled your skin as it fell from the sky. No, it was the rain that soaks you to the bone the minute you step outside– real rain. The best kind of rain. Y/N found the rain to be peaceful. Maybe it was the smell that came with the rain as it made the earth anew. Maybe it was the unpredictable yet consistent pattern of the pitter-patter as the water came in contact with the soil. Y/N enjoyed the view of the rain. She let her gaze flip out of focus as she watched the ripples in the puddles. Each wave moved farther away from the center.

“Pardon me, miss.” A cheery flight attendant chirped. The flight attendant’s eyes had dark circles underneath them, yet they held the most pleasant expression. “If you can exit the plane now, we need to prepare for the next flight.” 

Y/N tore her eyes away from the view and quickly apologized. Her cheeks burned red out of embarrassment as she hurriedly stood up, snatched her luggage from the overhead compartment, and exited the plane. She was glad that the plane was docked at the main section of the airport, so she didn’t have to trudge through the rain. Any other day she would have been overjoyed to be soaked to the bone, but not today. Y/N wanted to look somewhat presentable when she reunited with her aunt, Mrs. Hudson. 

Martha Louise Hudson wasn't Y/N’s aunt by blood, but she was her grandmother’s best friend. Those two were peas in a pod. After Y/N’s grandmother had suddenly passed away from a heart attack, Mrs. Hudson took it upon herself to occupy the vacant role.

 “No child should grow up without a grandparent. They need someone to spoil them rotten,” Mrs. Hudson would say. 

Despite her family’s abrupt decision to move to the United States, Mrs. Hudson continued filling that role. Occasionally, she would send postcards and presents for birthdays and Christmas detailing her adventures in London. The latest of which was a postcard describing a vacant apartment she was looking to rent. With the prospect of seeing Mrs. Hudson again, with the additional benefits of living in the United Kingdom, Y/N packed up her life and moved back across the ocean.

Baggage claim for flight AQ178. Baggage...It wasn’t hard to miss. All Y/N had to do was peer across the vast sea of people to where the crowd stood. They were all huddled around the baggage carousel. All of them dismissed the advice to stay behind the yellow and black striped line unless they were retrieving their baggage. One by one, they retrieved their bags as they moved down the line. 

Eventually, after many turns of the metallic carousel, Y/N’s bags came into view. She crossed the line and grabbed the large suitcases. It was strange to think that all her worldly possessions fit into two suitcases. The cases were covered in dust and grime from the journey despite them being brand-new. Y/N counted each suitcase, a notion in the back of her mind told her something was missing. An unholy screech rang out above the crowd. A sound that could only come from the jaws of a tiny demon–her tiny demon. Y/N winced in embarrassment as she slipped out a small sheet of paper from her pocket. The screeching continued, dragging the attention of innocent travelers. Her cheeks began to flash red as she approached a desk. 

Behind the desk there stood a poor young man who was made the unfortunate victim. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and his brows were raised impossibly high. In his shaking hands, he held a crate at arm's length, as if the brown cat inside would bust down the door and steal his soul. 

Y/N reached the desk, and coughed, “He’s mine.”  She pointed towards the cat who stilled at the sound of her voice. 

The man gulped, nodding, and asked to see her ticket to confirm ownership. She quickly presented it to him. His eyes quickly glanced over it. Then he sighed in relief and threw the crate into her hands. 

Y/N carefully peered into the crate and was met with the wide golden eyes of Bjørn. The cat stood still as his golden eyes processed what was in front of him. They narrowed slightly and he began to meow again. He was no longer screeching like a demon but singing like an angelic child for his mother had arrived. Y/N whispered words of assurance to the cat, praising him for being the best boy on the flight. He purred under her sweet words. 

Y/N’s pocket buzzed, and she carefully set Bjørn’s crate down. Her eyes quickly glanced outside to discover the rain had lightened up. Remembering someone had messaged her, she pulled out her phone and began to read. 

___________________________________________________________________

Auntie M

I’m sending one of my good friends and one of your neighbours to come and pick you up from the airport. 

His name is John Watson, blonde, and a kind man. 

(Read)

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Y/N raised her brow at the message. She was puzzled as to why Mrs. Hudson had sent the description of “kind”. As she read the text over, the cogs in her mind began to turn. Y/N tried to conjure up an image of what a kind British man named John, who happened to be a friend of her Auntie's, looked like. 

Picking up Bjørn’s crate, she lugged her bags toward the exit. She passed by people entering and leaving the airport. Some people ran into the arms of their loved ones and others jumped into taxis that took them to their next destination. 

Her feet began to slow finally coming to a stop. She turned her head, looking around the crowd. She bit her lip, and a dazed look filled her face. A low drone crept up to her. Y/N’s eyes were immediately dragged down to the taxi in front of her. With a creak, the passenger’s window rolled down. 

“Hel’o there, how can I help you today?” inquired the taxi driver. The man wore a white and beige flat cap. He was an older-looking fellow who wore glasses. He flashed Y/N a smile that made her stomach fill with unease. 

“Oh no thank you” she quickly replied, stepping away from the car window and closer to the booming crowd outside of the airport. 

“American, eh? I’ll be able to take you where you need to go. No problem. You can trust me,” He insisted. With his hand aged with time, he took off his cap and brushed through his wispy white hair. His smile grew bigger as he faked a charming expression.

“No thanks,” answered Y/N. The alarms in her head were howling at her. “I am waiting for someone, you see, to come to pick me up.” Taking a big step back, she sank into the crowd behind her. A woman wearing all pink brushed her shoulder against Y/N. Y/N’s eyes winced at the explosion of color. Everything about this woman was pink: pink phone, pink suitcase, pink overcoat.

“Are you taking this cab?” distractedly asked the woman as she stuffed her baggage into the cab. 

“No,” replied Y/N. She wanted to warn the woman in pink, but before she could, the taxi had pulled away from the pickup station and was on its way to who knows where. A buzzing feeling came from the back pocket of her trousers. Pulling her phone out she saw another message from her aunt. 

________

Auntie M

I just realized I should probably give you John’s number. 

 Y/N

- That would actually be great.

 Auntie M

Sending it to you right now. I’ll be making a nice dinner to warm you up after all that rain. 

Also, your apartment is all set up and waiting for you. :)

 Y/N

- Great, that sounds perfect. Thanks, Auntie M

 ____________

As she waited for John’s number, Y/N thought it would be best to head back inside and find a place to sit. Hearing the ding of her phone and a number pop up she mumbled, “Remind me to thank Auntie M for that…” 

An Irish voice popped up next to her, and Y/N’s gaze rose from the screen of her phone to meet dark and mysterious chocolate eyes. “Remember to thank your aunt for that” he chuckled. 

Y/N couldn’t help but smile. Her eyes scanned the man up and down. He had an edgy and cool air to him. With his smirk, he oozed confidence. There was something about him that intrigued her. He had brown hair that was well-groomed and wore a nicely tailored suit. He reciprocated Y/N’s smile and even more of his charm showed through. “The name is Jim, '' introduced the man. He extended his hand for her to shake. 

Y/N couldn’t help but let a giggle escape her lips as she firmly shook Jim’s hand. His grip was warm and strong. “Y/N, and thank you for the reminder, Jim.” 

“Anytime.” He replied, making himself comfortable in the open seat next to her. They settled into a pleasant silence. The only sounds that occupied their ears were the wheels of rolling luggage and the light chatter of the other travellers and guests of the airport. 

“Work, family, or friends?” inquired Jim, his head tilting slightly to the right to look at Y/N. 

“Sorry?” 

“What are you here for?” Jim clarified. 

“I guess you could say work and a bit of family,” answered Y/N. She began to secretly pick at her fingers, a stim, and nervous habit of hers. Jim cocked one of his eyebrows up with curiosity. “I'm moving back to my roots.”

“From London?” Jim questioned, furthering the conversation. 

Y/N paused before answering. The encounter with the taxi driver was still fresh in her memory. She sighed and her shoulder’s relaxed. It wouldn’t hurt to have a friendly conversation, she thought. 

“Yeah.” She replied. “I was born here but after a few years my parents and I moved to the U.S.” She shrugged, “and now I’m back.”

“And now you’re back,” Jim repeated softly. There was a minute shift in his expression into something Y/N couldn’t decipher. By the time she noticed it, it was gone; leaving Y/N to wonder if she had imagined it. “Well, London is delighted to have you back,” Jim winked. Then he readjusted his seating position as he straightened his black suit jacket. 

“Well, I have to leave. Business to attend to” smiled Jim, “I bid you adieu”. Standing up from the seat next to her, he gave her one more smile. His eyes lingered on her figure. Without another word, he took a few steps, disappearing into the crowd of people. 

She sat back in her seat, the image of Jim in her mind. Her thoughts trailed from Jim to her aunt and then…Shit! Y/N realized she did not text John’s number. Immediately pulling out her phone, she sent a quick text. A little gray bubble appeared, and he responded by saying he was there at the airport with a taxi outside. Raising from her seat, she, once again, made her way out of the airport. Y/N searched the crowd, her eyes looking for a man that fit the vague description her aunt had given her.

Just then a young man with kind dark eyes, the shade of morning coffee, and blonde hair approached her. He was wearing a beige knit sweater. Hand knitted...looks like Auntie’s knitting...is this… but her thought was interrupted by his voice. “Are you Y/N? Mrs. Hudson’s niece?” he inquired. 

“Yes, that’s me, are you John?” replied Y/N. 

“Yep, John. John Watson. Can I help you with your bags?” politely asked John.  

A wave of relief fell over Y/N, “Yes, thank you, John.” 

John reached for two bags of luggage and began directing Y/N to where the cab was. “It’s no problem really, just doing a favour for Mrs. Hudson” he explained, turning his gaze back to Y/N to smile at her. It was strange to think about how there could be so many different types of smiles. John’s smile was different from Jim’s confident grin, and the eerie smirk of that taxi driver. John’s smile was kind, caring, and calm. It reminded Y/N of the smile etched onto a Teddy bear’s face. 

John carefully placed Y/N’s luggage in the trunk. Afterward, he held the door open for Y/N to enter the back seat. John sat down after her, closing the door behind him. “221 B Baker Street” instructed John. The driver nodded and drove off, the station growing smaller and smaller behind them. 

After a few moments of silence, John peered at the crate on Y/N’s lap. “You have a cat,” stated John with a questioning tone to his voice. 

“Yes, his name is Bjørn.” Bjørn happily meowed in response to his name. 

“Didn’t know Mrs. Hudson allowed pets in the apartment,” replied John. He lowered his head to get a good look at Bjørn’s yellow eyes. He smiled at the cat which was reciprocated by a purr.

“Oh, I think he likes you!” Y/N beamed.

John raised his brows flattered by the obvious complement of the cat. He cautiously reached a hand out to pet Bjørn through the crate, his eyes glancing up at Y/N. She nodded and he proceeded to pet the cat. Bjørn’s purrs rumbled the cage as he brushed his neck eagerly against John’s fingers. 

“Bjørn, you attention whore,” laughed Y/N. She watched as John’s eyes widened at the cat’s affection. It was as if he was a child who’d been handed an ice cream cone on a hot summer’s day. 

“I’m sure Mrs. Hudson would approve of you getting a pet for your flat,” stated Y/N. Her eyes reflected John’s adoration for the cat. 

“Oh god no!” Exclaimed John withdrawing his hand from Bjørn. “My flat mate is enough of an animal as it is.” He chuckled. “I don’t need another one.” His voice turned quieter towards the end, creating an awkward air between the two in the back of the cab. 

“...You have a flat mate?” Y/N asked. 

“Yeah.” Responded John. 

Y/N awkwardly nodded her head and then moved her gaze to the window. 

By now, the sky was the textbook definition of gray. The dark rain cloud from before had fled, leaving the sky empty and barren. Everything seemed dulled by the gray tint the sky cast down. Even the brightly colored leaves and the shimmering lights of the city seemed to fall victim to the solemness. 

Eventually, the cab began to decrease in speed as it approached 221 B Baker Street, slowly coming to a halt. 

“We’re here” stated John as he paid for the cab before exiting onto Baker Street. He then made his way around the car to Y/N’s side and opened the door for her. He eagerly took Bjørn’s crate from her hands.

Y/N stepped onto the black pavement of Baker Street and took a moment to process her new environment. Then she made her way to the trunk of the cab to retrieve her luggage. John had taken the liberty of placing Bjørn inside 221 and let Mrs. Hudson know that they had arrived back from the airport. He then walked back outside to help Y/N with her luggage. Mrs. Hudson followed suit to greet her grandniece. 

“N/N, welcome home!” exclaimed Mrs. Hudson as she made her way to Y/N. Y/N turned toward her aunt. She had a gleeful smile on her face as she reunited with her aunt. Mrs. Hudson opened her arms wide beckoning Y/N in for a hug. As soon as her niece was in arms reach, Mrs. Hudson yanked the young woman into her arms and gave her a tight squeeze. She slightly rocked Y/N back and forth. A large smile erupted on Mrs. Hudson’s face, and she became overjoyed. “Let’s have a look at you, shall we?” she said, pulling away from the hug to place her hands on Y/N’s face and tugging at her cheeks. “My you have grown up to be so beautiful! Just like your mum!” 

“Thanks, auntie” sheepishly replied Y/N. Her cheeks turned pink from all the attention she was receiving. 

“Oh, it’s so good to have you home. We have some catching up to do!” cheered Mrs. Hudson as she led the way inside 221. 

John was patiently waiting by the bottom of the stairs inside the building. Her eyes ran up the steps which Y/N assumed, led up to John’s apartment. “Need anything else Y/N?” inquired John, giving a cheerful smile. 

“No, I don’t need anything else.” Y/N gratefully replied. “But if you want to take Bjørn out of his carrier and meet him properly, you are more than welcome to.” 

John’s eyes widened with delight as he crouched down toward the crate. With a twang, he released the cat from its confines. Bjørn paraded around. His brown furry head was held high as explored his new kingdom. He then noticed John beside him, quickly bringing head to butt against John’s leg. 

A loud creaking came from the upstairs flat, scaring Bjørn. He dashed from John’s side toward his mother. She picked him up and cradled him in her arms. His tail swished around as his golden eyes narrowed in the direction of the noise. Distaste eminent in his tiny figure. 

John took that as his cue to leave. “Alright then, welcome to London.” He said before making his way up the stairs to his apartment. 

A sigh escaped Mrs. Hudson's lips, “I’m so glad that you’ve moved in. At least, I’ll have a bit more normalcy with you here.” She moved her gaze upstairs to where muffled voices were coming from. Y/N could make out two voices. One belonged to John and the other to, who she assumed was, his flatmate. The flatmate’s voice was baritone and clear. 

“Well dear, dinner will be ready soon. Why don’t you go on into your new apartment and get settled? I got it all checked out and even got rid of Sherlock's mold experiment.” 

Y/N widened her eyes and opened her mouth to ask but was drowned out by her aunt's continued explanation. 

“I had to replace the wallpaper, but I think you’ll like the paint I chose,” explained Mrs. Hudson. “I’ll come and get you when dinner’s done.” She then grabbed a pair of keys out of her pocket and handed them to Y/N. “This key is for entering the building,” she pointed to the brass key and then moved her finger towards a thin black key that looked quite old, “and this key is to your apartment.” Then she patted Y/N’s back sending her in the direction of her new apartment. 

The apartment was located on the same floor as Mrs. Hudson’s apartment. Just underneath John’s apartment. The walls were covered in beautiful dark green paint. The curtains looked a bit worn around the edges, but overall, it was cozy. Mrs. Hudson had allowed Y/N to decorate and improve the apartment to her liking, which is something she was very grateful for. But first, she needed time to unpack everything. She placed Bjørn down once the door had been closed. The brown cat immediately gave a big stretch and yawned. Bjørn then looked up towards Y/N as if he was saying he would be exploring now and took off. Chuckling, Y/N brought her luggage to her room and began the time-consuming process of unpacking. 

It wasn’t long before Mrs. Hudson entered her niece’s apartment to notify her that dinner was ready. When the elderly lady entered, she was met with open boxes scattered everywhere and loud music playing from the Y/N’s phone. 

“Y/N, dear…” grabbing Y/N’s attention, “dinner is ready”. 

Moving towards the phone, Y/N let the music die down. “I’ll be there in a minute, just let me finish unpacking this one thing.” 

“Of course, dear” replied Mrs. Hudson. “Oh!” Mrs. Hudson chuckled as Bjørn rubbed up against her. “What a good boy.” She reached down to pet the cat.  Standing up she brushed her hands off and made her way back out the door, slowly and carefully closing it behind her. 

Y/N placed the last book on the shelf and smacked her hands together in a wiping motion. “Right then, dinner.” She carefully stepped over the numerous cardboard boxes lying around the apartment. Eventually, she reached her door. Bjørn’s head peaked up in interest as the knob of the door turned. “No, Bjørn. I’ll be back”. The cat seemed to acknowledge her statement and jumped on the couch. After a few customary circles, he was satisfied and collapsed down to the soft surface. 

Upon closing the door, Y/N heard two pairs of footsteps making their way down the stairs. She stood still listening to them.

“No John, I do not intend on greeting the new neighbor.” There was that baritone voice again. John’s flat mate. 

“Come on Sherlock. She’s Mrs. Hudson’s niece, at least do it for her.” pleaded John. 

The footsteps had ceased, and a deafening silence had filled the air. “For the last time, John. I do not intend to meet this new neighbor. I guarantee you that she will have moved out by the end of the week. As most of the other tenants of 221 do.” Then a tall man wearing a long black trench coat appeared and then quickly disappeared as he slammed the door to Baker Street. 

“For heaven’s sake, Sherlock,” yelled John as he followed his flat mate out the door. 

 Y/N huffed in anger, as she made her way to her aunt’s flat.  I don’t want to meet you too, Sherlock, she thought. Y/N didn’t even have to knock on the door for Mrs. Hudson to state that she could come in. “Door’s open, come on in”. 

Mrs. Hudson was finishing placing the dishware on the table. “Sounds like you just missed John and Sherlock” chimed Mrs. Hudson. 

“And a good thing too,” muttered Y/N, causing Mrs. Hudson to ask her to repeat, “Oh nothing.”

“Alright then. Let’s not let dinner get cold,” Mrs. Hudson said as she motioned to the seats signaling Y/N to sit down for dinner. 

They chatted amongst themselves. Y/N relayed all the latest detail of her life to her surrogate grandmother: who she was friends with, her job, past relationships, how her family was, the whole lot. As they shared the meal, Y/N felt her bond with Mrs. Hudson restore as if she never moved away in the first place. 

Now, it was Y/N’s turn to ask a question. “Who is John’s flat mate?,” Y/N pondered. 

“That’ll be Sherlock.” Mrs. Hudson crinkled her eyes and nose with fondness. “He’s a consulting detective.”

“A consulting detective? Never heard of it,” Y/N mentioned. 

“Consults on difficult criminal cases. He helps Scotland Yard solves crimes and murders. He’s the one who got my husband the death sentence” explained Mrs. Hudson. Her eyes widened at the statement. “Any tea, Y/N?”

Glancing up from the now empty plate, Y/N replied, “Oh, no thanks”. 

Mrs. Hudson then nodded her head and continued to talk about Sherlock, bringing a hand to her heart. She talked about all the strange people who came to visit him. Often relaying stories that would make Y/N raise her brows in concern. Mrs. Hudson’s face contorted as she mentioned his strange and disturbing experiments, one of which was the mold that used to occupy Y/N’s flat. Switching back to her cheerful smile, she began proudly explaining Sherlock’s gift of being able to tell almost everything about a person. 

Y/N’s head began pounding as it filled up with all the compliments her aunt had to say about Sherlock. She chuckled trying to hide a wince from the pain in her head. Y/N placed down her fork and knife and leaned in slightly toward her aunt. “Auntie M, thank you for dinner, but…” she trailed off.  “I’m feeling tired, and I think that the jet lag is getting to me.”

Looking up in concern, Mrs. Hudson rose from her seat, “Of course, N/N.” She gave Y/N a soft smile and headed towards the door, opening it to let her niece out.  “Goodnight, sleep well.” She reached out a hand to pat her niece’s shoulder.

“Goodnight” replied Y/N. 

As Mrs. Hudson closed the door, Y/N brought a hand to her temple massaging it. It was still pounding. She trudged to her flat and opened it. With little effort, she crawled into bed. Bjørn hopped up next to her. He snuggled up close purring loudly as she lazily pet him. Her hand slowly fell limp on top of Bjørn’s brown fur. His deep purrs slowly guided his owner gently to sleep. 

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[missourifreereport]

Norways Princess Märtha Louise Marries Durek Verrett in Grand Wedding

Norway gave its princess the royal treatment.   Two years after announcing their engagement, Princess Märtha Louise and her now-husband Durek Verrett tied the knot in a lavish, three-day ceremony... September 03, 2024 at 06:08AM Manchester California Troy Vermont New Hudson Michigan Frenchtown Montana Van Buren Missouri https://unitedstatesvirtualmail.blogspot.com/2024/09/norways-princess-martha-louise-marries.html September 03, 2024 at 08:18AM https://anchoragealaskaflorist.weebly.com/anchorage-alaska/norways-princess-martha-louise-marries-durek-verrett-in-grand-wedding

[peachyfyodor]

“Here!” “Woof!”

“.......Don’t you bark at me, you ne’er-do-well!”

[dailymoriarty]

Hikaru Miyoshi’s illustrations

[inahochi]

★ MARTHA LOIUSE HUDSON ★ YūKOKᑌ NO ᗰOᖇIāTI 08

[thesleepy1]

A Morning Finding You

A/N: I was just in the mood for some Johnlock and although I have an angsty multi chapter fic in mind I realized that that’s a lot of work. And with most of my readers interested in Jack Kline fics and Eskel fics I don’t think they’ll be a following for my angst. This is sort of to test the waters and see who is interested. Unbeta’d as always. Also my first 5+1 fic. And probably the longest fic I have written. I regret everything. 

 Pairings: John x Sherlock

 Summary: Sherlock is planning something and it's making John worry. Especially since everyone but him was in on it.

 Word count: 2916

 Warnings: Language, suggestive language, mention of kidnapping, mention of pass near life experiences,

Sherlock was up to something. John just knew it. He had been acting odd for the past week, more so than usual and it was making John worried. 

 The first was when John came down to find the kitchen clean. No beakers or knives out of place. No heads or body parts in the fridge or cabinets. The kettle was even on the stove with hot water ready for morning tea. John’s favorite mug was just placed next to the stove as if it was supposed to be there every morning. 

 John had to be honest, it freaked him out, but he was not one to say no to a cup of tea. Then as he stepped into the living room turned office he froze in place. It was clean. Like actually clean. Every article, book, loose paper, everything, was put into its rightful place. The chairs were in their place. His laptop sat closed at his desk. Hell, even the floor looked like it had been vacuumed recently. 

 “Sherlock!” 

 “Oh, deary. Sherlock’s gone out with Mycroft, I believe,” came Mrs. Hudson’s voice from the stairs. “Oh goodness,” she exclaimed at the sight of the flat. John could rule her out for the culprit that cleaned his flat. 

 “That’s what I thought.” John had that look of dishevelment and disbelief. For once in the years that he lived in the 221 B Baker Street, he looked out of place. His hair stuck out on one side. He was in his robes, soft but it's been days since he washed it. And then there was the moustache he had grown out to spite Sherlock. 

 “W-what happened?” Mrs. Hudson choked out, her hand going to her mouth. She took in the room like it was a crime scene. And in a way it was.

 “I have no idea,” John shook his head, running his fingers over the laptop. “It’s been dusted. My bloody laptop has been dusted!” he laughed hysterically, taking a sip of tea only for it to be scalding hot. “Argh!” 

 “Oh do be careful, dear,” Mrs. Hudson took the mug from his hand, afraid he would spill onto the clean surfaces. 

 “Yes, yes. Did you say that Sherlock was with Mycroft?”  

 “Well, not exactly, but there was a car waiting for him outside so I assumed.”

 -----

 The second time was when John arrived at Mycroft’s ridiculously large estate. The man lived alone with a couple of maids but his house was large enough to fit a hundred people. John had seen it done when Mycroft was forced to host a gathering.

 As he exited the cab that he called and paid for, he was greeted by a maid who looked familiar but he couldn’t quite place where he knew her from. And before he could ask she disappeared. “Odd,” John thought to himself as he entered the room the maid led him too.  

 She seemed to do it with glea which didn’t seem like a trait that Mycroft would look for in hiring maids. Then again, the older Holmes brother probably had someone else to do that for him. The rich bloke. 

 “Aw, Dr.Watson, to what do I owe the pleasure?” came Mycroft’s voice from behind his desk. His messy desk, John noticed. There were files and all sorts of papers askew. Books were open and there were at least three mugs of tea sitting on the desk. This picture of dishevelment was something out of Baker Street, not the British Government himself.

 “Uh, um. I thought Sherlock was here?” John asked, unable to tear his eyes from the uncharacteristic disarray. 

 “Why would that brother of mine be here?” Mycroft clasped his hands together like he was some devil that tricked John into selling his soul. 

 “If not here then where is Sherlock?” 

 “How should I know? It's not like I have a leash on him or anything,” came his smooth reply. He was hiding something as well, John knew it. Something that would explain the state of his desk, he bet. 

 “No, but you do have your eyes on him.”

 “Whatever do you mean?” Mycroft asked with a hint of something in his eyes that John couldn’t place.

 “I’m onto you and Sherlock,” John exclaimed, walking through the door. The maid from before was waiting with a tray in her hand, more tea for Mycroft. “Have I met you before?” John asked before the thought could leave his mind. 

 “I don’t know, have you, Dr.Watson?” She had that devilish look that Mycroft had. The same look in fact. Brunette and possessed.  

 John looked down at her hands that were grasping the tray. They were calloused in all the wrong places. Her hands looked more like Sherlock’s than a maid’s. Like she constantly played an instrument rather than carrying trays for a sad excuse of an informant. 

 “No...I don’t think so,” John admitted, leaving with a cold unsettling feeling. 

 -----

 The third time should have rang all the alarms in John’s head, but to be fair he hadn’t had breakfast that morning. Just the barely touched tea that was sitting at his immaculate desk. Immaculate desk, he didn’t think he'd ever say that outloud. 

 “Oh, John, good morning,” Molly greeted him in the morgue, her smile wavering. 

 “Good morning, Molly. Has Sherlock been by?” he got straight to the point. 

 “Um, I-I haven’t seen him in days,” she hesitated, fidgeting with something at her station.  

 “Days? We were in here the day before last,” John exclaimed, looking closely at Molly. She looked rather fine, her hair was in a ponytail, she was wearing lipstick, her desk was clean as a specialist registrar's would be, her blouse was ironed. There didn’t seem to be anything out of place, but for her voice. 

 “Um, well, what I meant was I haven’t seen him in a while. Recently...it was an exaggeration, really,” Molly explained, her eyes darting around the room. 

 “Well do you know where he could be?” 

 “Have you tried Scotland Yard?” Molly asked though she looked like she regretted speaking. She said too much, she went off script and her mind was trying to make up for it. “O-or have you talked to his brother? Mycroft right? The tall one in parliament?” she stumbled, rereading the lines in her head. 

 “Yeah, but something seemed off about him.” Molly froze in her place beside her station, her eyes were blown wide and she stared down at her hands like they were the most interesting thing. 

 “I’ll try again though, it was like he was hiding something.” John neared Molly, his slight height advantage making itself known. “Do you know what he could be hiding?” 

 Molly averted her gaze from his, “N-no idea.” John nodded, leaving the morgue when the thought popped into his mind. She was wearing lipstick. 

 -----

 The fourth was at Scotland Yard. He was planning on going anyways but Molly’s apprehensiveness just gave him a gut feeling that this was where his questions would be answered. Hopefully. Lestrade was usually in the same boat as he was. 

 “John!”

 “Greg, good to see you. Do you-” 

 “Busy.”

 “I’m sorry what?” John’s confusion was crystal clear on his face. What did the detective inspector mean by busy?

 “I’m busy,” Greg stated like that explained everything. 

 “Yes, but this is important.” 

 The phone on Greg’s desk dinged in a notification. “Can’t right now,” he reached for the phone on his desk like it was his life force. “My wife wants me home early,” he checked his phone.   

 “You aren’t married.” 

 “Yeah, but that was yesterday.” He scrolled through his phone, texting whoever was ever on the other side something frantic. 

  “You can’t just marry someone in a day!” John exclaimed, throwing his hands up. The other detectives and desk jockeys looked up from their computers to see what the commotion was. One of them being Donovan who looked like she hadn’t slept in days. 

 “He can,” Donovan spoke with authority. She turned to Greg, “And I expect you home by five.” With that she left the building with her coat thrown over her shoulder.

 “You and Donovan?! Since when?” 

 “Like I said, yesterday. And really John, I have to get to work.” 

 -----

 The fifth time was during work, seeing as how running around London had caused him to be two hours late. The woman at the front desk, Diana? Kira? Ariebella? Sydney? Whatever her name was, was very displeased with his tardiness. 

 “You’re late,” she stated bitterly. 

 “I know, I know. I got caught up with errands.” She used to sound so nice, or was that Margot? He wasn’t sure and with the morning he had, he couldn’t be bothered to look into it. 

 “Errands, errands. It's always errands with you. Well whatever you were doing that was more important than your job, you have sixteen patients waiting.”

 “Sixteen?!” John gasped, closing his eyes and massaging his temples. He really didn’t want to work today. “Fine, bring them in.” 

 “If you were actually here on time you would have known that they’re already in there. Go do your job, Dr. Watson.” The clank and clinks of her nails on the keyboard could be heard on his way to his office. It was heaven to his migraine.

 “Thanks, Alana,” John called behind him.

 “It's Clementine, idiot,” she retorted with a sneer he didn’t see but could easily imagine.  

 “Of course, Clementine, how could I forget,” John mumbled as he closed the door behind him. Suppressing a groan he turned on his heel to face his first out of sixteen patients. 

 “Good afternoon, Dr.” said his patient, an old woman who was on the brink of death, agewise. 

 “Good afternoon, miss…?” 

 “Holmes,” came her assertive reply. 

 “Holmes...you wouldn’t have been related to Sherlock by any chance? Would you?” John asked, never really ever having the chance to meet the rest of his flat mate’s family. What with one of them kidnapping him and the other wanting him dead.

 “What relations do you have to him?” Her question would’ve been rude if he wasn’t already expecting it. Sherlock, Mycroft, and Eurus had to get their personality from somewhere. 

 “I’m his friend and flat mate. Believe it or not we solve cases together,” he explained, taking a seat across from her.   

 “You must be John Hamish Watson then. I am Sherlock’s aunt.” John winced at his full name. Sherlock must’ve told her. How much did Sherlock’s family know about him? Enough to know his full name apparently. All that Harry knew was that he was alive and living in London.

 “Well it's a pleasure to meet you.”

 “The pleasure would be all yours for I am here for a reason,” Sherlock’s aunt said briskly. 

 “Of course, how are you feeling?”

 -----

 The sixth and final time was after work. John got through all sixteen patients and an extra five patients that came later in the day. This made it so he left the office, thirty minutes after his shift. Clementine wasn’t even at the front desk anymore. She just left him to close up on his own, which on any other day he wouldn’t have mind but his migraine had not lightened. 

 “Sherlock just kill me now,” John moaned, slipping his keys back into his pocket. With everything going on he was surprised he remembered to grab the damn thing before leaving the flat. 

 “He can be unpleasant but he’ll never kill you,” said Mrs. Hudson from her car. The one she used only in emergencies. 

 “Mrs. Hudson is everything okay? What are you doing here?” He ran up to her car, checking her for any injuries or bruises or otherwise. 

 “Oh stop that, I’m perfectly fine. I’m here to get you.”

 “If you don’t mind my asking, why?” John raised his eyebrows, his mouth ajar. 

 “Why? Because I want to, of course,” she smiled, gesturing with her head for him to ride in the passenger’s seat.

“I won’t say no to a free side from you,” John pulled the door shut as he sat down, setting his bag on the floor and buckling his seat before realizing they weren’t going to Baker Street. “Um, Mrs.Hudson?” 

 “Yes, dear?”

 “Where are we going?” 

 “You’ll know in a moment.” 

 A moment passed and they were getting closer and closer towards central London. “I really don’t know where we’re going.” 

 “Oh be patient, we’re almost there.”

 “And where exactly is there?”

 “You will see.”

 John would really much not like to see. He wanted to know, now. Today was odd already, he really wasn’t in the mood to be kidnapped by his landlady, or held for ransom. Mrs. Hudson grabbing her purse only to see it empty did not reassure him on the latter. 

 “Here we are, dear.” By here she meant a restaurant far too expensive for his paycheck. He could already feel his wallet groaning in his pocket from the small bites of food on large plates that were advertised.

 “I’m not sure-” But she had pushed him out of the car and sped off. With his bag for that matter. All he had on him now were the clothes on his back, his wallet and keys. He’d been worse off honestly but now he wasn’t sure where he was. 

 “Fuck.” John looked around, hoping to find a cab to take him home when he spotted some very distinctive brunette curls. “Sherlock,” he groaned, having had looked for the man and finding the man brought very different emotions out of the doctor.

 “Where the hell have you been?” John yelled to the taller man, not caring that he was causing a scene. 

 “I had errands to run,” Sherlock answered, stoic and baritone. 

 “Errands to run!? I have been looking for you all morning. You made me late to work. Again!” John threw his hands in the air, stomping his foot. He was drawing an audience and there were even some who brought their phones out, expecting a show. 

 “I didn’t make you do anything. You did that of your own free will,” Sherlock smirked, smug as he came to the conclusion, “Were you worried about me?”

 “Of course I was. Everyone was acting as if they were being held captive. The flat was clean, as in spotless, Mycroft was an utter mess, his maid wants to kill me, Molly was wearing lipstick, Greg’s apparently married to Donovan, I met your aunt of all people at work, and then Mrs. Hudson practically kidnapped me! What the bloody hell is going on, Sherlock.” 

 “I asked them to distract you, not make you go insane,” Sherlock grinned, looking down at him through his ridiculously long eyelashes. He was in an equally ridiculous get up, a three piece suit with a velvet blazer that looked straight out of Mycroft's wardrobe.  

 “Well they did a great job of that, I feel like my head is splitting in two,” John shook his head, not wanting to believe all of this was done by Sherlock but he shouldn’t have been surprised. This was exactly something the lunatic would do. He faked his own death for two bleeding years, distracting John for the morning was nothing to the detective consultant. 

 “I’ll order you a drink then,” Sherlock began walking into the restaurant like he owned the place. Did he? No, no, John didn’t want to know. 

 “You could’ve just said you wanted to eat out,” John grumbled, feeling underdressed compared to the other consumers.  

 “Well Mrs. Hudson said I should make it special. And Mycroft recommended the restaurant so you should really be blaming them.” Sherlock pulled out a seat at a table set for two and gestured for John to sit. He did so reluctantly, feeling out of place. Sherlock took the seat opposite. “Distracting you was my idea, if you were wondering.”

 “Of course it was.” 

 Sherlocked beamed, trying to hide his chuckle. “Yes, well I couldn’t have you following me while I got everything ready.” 

 “So are you going to explain what all of this is for?” John made a gesture to indicate everything around them. If the gesture happened to look like his middle finger then they could kindly fuck off.

 “Our anniversary.”

 John raised an eyebrow in question, wishing he shaved his spite-stache earlier. “I’m not gay, Sherlock.” 

 The mentioned man rolled his eyes but relented, “Of course, of course, but what I meant was the anniversary of our first meeting.” 

 “You did all of this for an anniversary for some day?” John asked, thanking the waitress who handed him the menu. She looked familiar as well, brunette and with a glaze over her eyes.

 “It wasn’t just some day or else Mrs. Hudson wouldn’t have parted it on her calendar,” Sherlock explained, thanking the brunette waitress. She turned to face John as she brought over the drinks and that was when it clinked. 

 “Eurus!” John exclaimed, pointing to the waitress who was also Mycroft’s maid. 

 “Happy anniversary, John,” she congratulated him. 

 “She helped too.”

 “I more than helped, I made sure everyone was in their place.”  

 “You bloody idiot, you really went all out,” John looked at Sherlock in utter disbelief. What did he get himself into when he decided he loved this man. Wait, what? Since when did that thought come into his mind? Since when did he love Sherlock? 

 “Anything for you, John.”

 “I’ll just leave now, seeing as I’m no longer needed. I’ll bring condoms with your dessert.”

[lifeisastorybook]

The game, Mrs. Hudson, is on!

[fedelock221b-blog]

BBC Sherlock: A Scandal In Belgravia

[dragonsong-art]

“Not your houskeeper!” she calls out as she speeds off in her fancy red Aston Martin.

(She’s the best and deserves more love.)

Daily Doodle #24 - January 24, 2017

Art belongs to me; do not use or repost without permission!!

[satureja13]

Jack's Therapy Game (From the beginning: -> here)

After Saiwa (happily and refreshed) returned from his Therapy Game, Jack begged to go back to Lou because it did him so good. One of his painful rash spots already vanished, so of course they let him go. When Jack logged in, he found Lou and himself sweating and groaning in Lou's living room/gym. Lou: "When we're done here I'll show you the shop and after work I'll take you to my secret place in the woods. No one will see us there." A secret place in the woods? And no one will see them there - doing what? ö.Ö' Did Jack's NPC version already hook up with Lou?

It seems Lou was a bit too enthusiastic and overstrained his shoulder. Lou: "Would you mind giving me a massage?" Jack: "Uhm - sure." Lou: "No need to hesitate. Give it to me, I can take it *wink*" Ö.Ö'

And then Lou gave 'it' back to Jack - to reciprocate. Of course. Another round of loud moans... I wonder what the passers-by think? Ö.ö

They went down to the bathroom to shower when Jack noticed that the spot on his shoulder was gone too! Lou: "Haven't you noticed it vanished? I've seen it when you undressed. Doesn't it hurt less?" Lou watches him when he's undressing? ö.Ö' Jack can't tell him that it only hurts when he logs out. Jack: "Ah, no. The level of pain is still the same. I hope it will stop once the last spot is gone."

Lou: "That's really amazing. I've never seen anything like this going better, only worse. We should talk to Greg about this. He knows everything about us wolves." Jack: "Oh I don't think that's necessary. It wasn't that grave." No way he's going to deal with Greg here too!

It must be early in the morning and after breakfast they went over to Lou's shop. Jack: "Oh! You're making juice?!" Lou: "Haha yes! Since no one here knows I'm a wolf fighter, this is my 'undercover' job ^^. And it runs quite well. I deliver to the Lion's Pride Inn and two other pubs nearby." Jack: "That's amazing!"

Lou: "I only wish I knew how to make nectar too. I'm getting so many asks. The press was here when I bought the house but I never found out how to use it." Jack: "Well, today's your lucky day. I know how to make a decent nectar :3"

Lou: "I think my lucky days already started when I met you :3" Aouww! And Jack started to think the same way. He really likes Lou. And everything fits so well! They are both wolves, like a good fight, share the same interests and get along really well. Plus: Lou is handsome, clever, kind and funny. Tiny Can made the perfect partner for Jack. Well, he didn't actually make him since Lou already exists in the real world. But Jack never met the real Lou and doesn't know if his character and interests are the same as NPC Lou's.

Their work day was over and Lou took Jack to the secret place in the woods. Jack is a bit unsure what to do if Lou hits on him and wants more. Go for it? Maybe this happens so he can finally get over Kiyoshi? Even though Jack broke up with Kiyoshi it seems they are still fated mates. Will his rash get worse again if he 'cheats' on him? On the other hand, this is just a game, so it wouldn't matter, right? And they still have to find out if they can just be fated mates without being a couple and just be 'mates'.

But Jack's worries were groundless. Lou just took him here to spar ^^' No one will find them out here and so they can change in their wolf and spar unseen.

They didn't go easy on each other, like on their first fight at the Arena. But they still both had a lot of fun! Werewolves heal quick (except things like Jack's mental wounds or his rash, which has a magical cause) and they didn't hold back.

And after the fight, Lou hugged Jack again. So does that mean he wants more or is he just a cuddler in general? But all the other hints? The mating wolves statue and the lube in the bathroom...

Lou and Jack went back to care for the horses and Jack was very happy! And Valerian expressed his love (again) to Lunatic, who (still) hesitates... It's so sweet that they are here together too. Probably a suggestion from the Little Goats Satyrs.

Lou and Jack didn't cook today, they are both tired and so Lou treated Jack to one of the stands at the market and they chatted about this and that.

Lou: "Hiding that we are wolf fighters is something I really hate. But Barfolomew insists and somehow I can understand him and it would influence the bets. We wouldn't have a quiet minute here if folks knew about us. But I never would hide my partner. Uhm - for example. That's just not fair."

Did Tiny Can bump this conversation because Kiyoshi urged Jack to keep their relationship a secret to protect him? Maybe it's time to work on it in the therapy? And Jack can be honest to Lou because he's just a NPC in a game? Jack: "Yes, I wouldn't want that again either, it almost killed me. And I almost killed him..." And then he told Lou a bit about his relationship with Kiyoshi. That he would do things different if he ever had a partner again. Lou agreed and they spun some theories about how one could actually do things different. To talk to each other, to stand up for their own needs, to set borders... It was a very fruitful discussion and Jack liked Lou even more now. Yes, he would do a lot of things different and he's glad that this conversation with Lou brought him a bit out of his helplessness and his fear of having a partner (and tumble down into madness and chaos) again.

It's already late and it was a long day so they went back home. It's fun to think that he has a home here now. Together with Lou. It seems so surreal (and it is!). Lou: "Hey, you go ahead. I'm grabbing some stuff for breakfast, hm?" Jack was tired after a long and exciting day: "Ok. Thank you, Lou. For the talk and for everything."

Lou: "You are very welcome here, Jack. I mean it. And I'm glad we met." And then he hugged him again! And again in front of all of the world! (Well, in front of the market place in Goldshire ^^') Kiyoshi would have never done that! Mayor to Martha: "Aouwww look at them! I'm so glad Lou found someone! He was so alone and sad." Martha: "Well their groaning and moaning didn't leave anything in the dark!" Mayor: "Ach, they are still young. I remember when I..." Martha: "Yea, yea, I hear you!" I wonder why the Mayor and the others had been so unfriendly and distanced to Vlad when they are so happy with Jack?

'I took shelter from a shower And I stepped into your arms On a rainy night in Soho The wind was whistling all its charms

I sang you all my sorrows You told me all your joys Whatever happened to that old song? To all those little girls and boys'

A Rainy Night in Soho - The Pogues (Such a beautiful song. I know the song for over twenty years but I saw the MV for the first time today and I'm so glad I found it. Shows Shane so different from what we know him.)

There is even a version of Nick Cave and Shane MacGowan! Aouww

Only one outtake today because they had to be flirty for the massage ^^'

Oh and these two of Lunatic and Valerian. Lunatic is slowly melting as it seems <3

The Therapy Game Master Post with the sessions and places so far is -> here

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest Current Chapter: 🕹️ 'The One' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

[ebaeschnbliah]

SHERLOCK BBC - SUMMARY OF A THEORY

As my theory, regarding the story told in Sherlock BBC, is mostly developed now in broad lines, it’s time for a summary. Below are the main posts for each of the series, respectively for each episode of S4. This interpretation is entirely based on metaphorical reading and plays with the idea that Sherlock consciously investigates his own case, the pink one, inside his head on - what I like to call it - a mind stage. Of course, that’s only one of several possible ways to view the show but it’s the one that makes the most sense to me. Sort of TILOSH instead of TPLOSH ... one might say.  :)

From the beginning then:

MUSINGS ABOUT THE MEANING OF SERIES ONE  -  Introduction, User Manual, Chapter List

REICHENBACH (Rich Brook) AT CENTRE STAGE  -  SERIES TWO: The way to Reichenbach and the consequences

CHANGING OF THE GUARD  -  SERIES THREE: The big revelation and beyond

FROM PLANE TO PLANE - THE ABOMINABLE BRIDE  -  A SPECIAL detour across the Victorian tapestry

FROM WATER TO WATER - THE SIX THATCHERS  -   SERIES FOUR: Inside the Rich-Brook-Cauldron

FROM THERAPIST TO THERAPIST - THE LYING DETECTIVE -   SERIES FOUR: Deep in the pit and still sinking

FROM PLAN TO PLANE inside the plane - THE FINAL PROBLEM -  SERIES FOUR: The innermost core

Sherlock BBC viewed as the detective’s slow motion investigation of his falling in love with John Watson - THE LONG FALL DOWN TO THE BOTTOM OF THE WELL  

An additional list of more posts can be found below the cut. I wish anyone who’s interested a happy reading. :)

20 July, 2022

A CASE ABLAZE  -  MAIN POST: Fire and flames and a pink case that seems to be burning

WHEN SHERLOCK LIES DRUGGED IN A CAB  - Musings about the strange parts of the PILOT

FIRE ACTION - SLIDE TO VIEW  -  Impressions from Unaired Pilot, Green John on the phone

A DOG BARKS IN THE NIGHT  -  About barking dogs in PILOT & ASIP

TWO TIMES JOHN  -  When two Johns appear in one single shot 

ANGELO - A PERSON OF INTEREST  -  A comparison

BAKER STREET 221b  -  The ‘pink’ version 

PINK IMPRESSIONS  …….  A Study in PILOT-Pink

ICEBLUE  -  Colour-coordination between PILOT and TLD? Plus an iterview with Benedict Cumberbatch from 2010

IT’S AN EXPERIMENT  -  More thoughts about a PILOT theory

PILOT-VERSE  -  Some musings about an ExtraordinaryExtendedMindPalace starting point

ON VAMPIRES AND THE COLOUR GREEN  -  ‘Green-John’ and ‘Vampire-Sherlock’ … “I’ll burn you”

MUSINGS ABOUT THE MEANING OF SERIES ONE  -  MAIN POST: Introduction, User Manual, Chapter List 

A STUDY IN PINK

A SIGN OF CHANGE  -  The modern cockcrow

JENNIFER WILSON   MARTHA  LOUISE  HUDSON  -  About the meaning of names

COME WITH ME  -  The victims transitions

POISON  -  Shot by pill and dart, a comparison, ASIP & TFP

WELCOME TO ENGLAND  -  Sherlock greets a man from the West with the same words Zoe Van Helsing uses for a man from the East

THE BLIND BANKER

THE BLIND BANKER  -  The key to decode the whole story

PAIRS - TWINS - DOUBLE OHs  -  They always come in pairs, even John

COUPLES, PAIRS & THE GERMAN CONNECTION  -  The revelation comes from the East and the tool to translate the code is linked to German language

THEY COME IN PAIRS  -  Couples and mirror-couples in the Prince’s case

The NUTCRACKER and the WORKER  -  Sherlock and human history

THE WORRIOR BEHIND THE PURPLE MASK  -  Escapology Act and Deadly Spider

CLASSIC ESCAPOLOGY ACT  -  The whole show in a nutshell

DEADLY BIRD SPIDER  -   The whole show in a nutshell

’M’ - THE YELLOW DRAGON  -  About the identity of the dragon and the enemy behind the curtain

THE GREAT GAME

THE TRANSPORT SERIES  -  Impressions from TGG

BOILING BLOOD  -   When a DROP OF CHEMISTRY or a DROP OF EMOTIONS brings the blood to a boil

BOMBS and PILLS  -  A pattern of five: about the five victims and the five hostages in ASIP and TGG  +  ADDITION

SEKHMET  -  Lioness goddesses of war and healing

CONDUCTOR OF THE UNIVERSE  -  Love isn’t always blind - about professor Cairns

WESTIE’S ENGAGEMENT PARTY & JOE’S CONFESSIONS  -  The missing Bruce Partington Plans

THE CONNECTING ELEMENT  -  The barking dog in the distance

THE LOST VERMEER & THE VAN BUREN SUPERNOVA  -  Explosive connections between TGG and TFP

COUNTDOWNs  -  Lost-child-connections between TGG & TFP

REICHENBACH AT CENTRE STAGE  -  MAIN POST: A metaphorical interpretation of the events that led to Bart’s roof and beyond 

A SCANDAL IN BELGRAVIA

DISTRACTIONS & CONSEQUENCES  -  Metaphorical interpretation of the boomerang case

DOUBLE OH SEVEN - BOND AIR IS GO  -  Two times ‘0′ & the history of zero

PALACES - A COMPARISON  -  Buckingham Palace & Mind Palace

SHERLOCK - THE VICAR  -  About the definition of words

SCANDINAVIAN REFERENCES  -  In Sherlock BBC, TheGameIsNow - Escaperoom Event & Dracula

THE CABIN ON THE MEADOW  -  The hiker, bees, cars and the South Downs

THE SYRINGE IN SHERLOCK’S ARM  -  A comparison: ASIB & PILOT

JUST THE ONE  -  A calculated risk at Christmas time and a small breath of chemistry +  ADDITIONS

THE HOUNDS OF BASKERVILLE

SHOES FOR THE HOUND  -  He stole the shoes to send the Hound. Is Jim Moriarty the Hound of the Holmes?

HENRY KNIGHT  -  Musings about Henry and Sherlock

THE KNIGHT OF BASKERVILLE  -  Connecting dots & musing on knights, dragon slayers, pirates, distressed damsels and chess

THE DOGS IN SHERLOCK’S MIND PALACE  -  Rhodesian Ridgback, Irish Wolfhound and ‘Hound Dog’ by Elvis Presley

ELVIS & JOHN  -  The WATSON inside Sherlock’s mind palace

A DOCTOR WHO IS ‘FAMILY’  -  Dr Frankland and Dr Watson, Jim and the Hound

THE REICHENBACH FALL

WHEN THE MAN WITH THE KEY BECOMES KING  -  Metaphorical interpretation of The Fall

MAX & CLAUDETTE  -  The meaning of names & musings about another ‘neat’ plan

UNDER THE MICROSCOPE: Part ONE  TWO  THREE  -  A closer look at Clostidium Botolinum & the Glycerol Molecule & what the microscope reveals

JOHN OR JAMES  -  A beautiful transition & John’s rescue from fire and water

THE REICHENBACH FALL TIME CONUNDRUM - About time and daylight

THE HARDDRIVE, THE VIRUS & THE INDESTRUCTIBLE IDEA  -  About the impossibility to kill an idea

DEVELOPEMENT OF THE FALL  -  About the constant repetition of ‘falling’ and ‘flying’

NEAT - DON’T YOU THINK  -  Reichenbach and Bond Air under the lens - not as neat as one would think

SOLUTIONS OR CHOICES  -  About the three different ‘Fall’- solutions

THE SUN - THEY’R DOING A BIG EXPOSÉ  -  A comparison: Sherlock BBC: Exposé by the SUN vs. Dracula BBC: Exposed to the sun

CHANGING OF THE GUARD  -  MAIN POST: A metaphorical interpretation of TSOT and beyond

THE EMPTY HEARSE

SECRETS OF THE SERBIAN FOREST  -   Images, colours, similarities +  ADDITIONS  

DUNGEON ON THE MIND-STAGE  -  About the torture-scene in Serbia

DUST IS ELOQUENT  -  Some musings on modern dust, victorian fog and the importance of things that are missing

PACKED-UP CHEMISTRY  -  The chemistry at 221b never left the flat

AND THEN THE GOVERNMENT EXPLODES  -  Interesting connection between TEH and TST

LEARNING FOREIGN LANGUAGES  -  Absorbing knowledge - Dracula learns Bavarian and Mycroft Holmes learns Serbian very quickly

THE SIGN OF THREE

THE HAMISH INVESTIGATION  -  A pattern of five: Time determination & about the meaning of names

THE EYE-TREATMENT -  When seeing and observing leads to falling in love

VATICAN CAMEOS  -  About the pope, nuns, crossed keys, yellow and whithe, faith, hope and love

FIVE FUNNY STORIES  - A pattern of five: Sherlock’s funny stories and a possible connection to each series of Sherlock BBC

THE PICTURE IN FRONT OF SHOLTO’S ROOM  -  Similarities with the ghostly bride in TAB

GUARDSMEN  -  A summary

A STUDY IN PINK & GREEN  -  Similarities between the PILOT and the stag night in TSOT & ‘stag’-ADDITIONS

HIS LAST VOW

ON BEHALF OF AMO  -  ASIP & ASIB revisited in HLV, a metaphorical interpretation

CODENAME: AMO  -  Lady Smallwood, the Spirit of Ecstasy & Claire de la Lune

INVESTIGATOR OF SECRETS AND SCANDALS  -  Pressure Points inside Magnussen’s MP

ISAAC - SHEZZA - BILLY  -  Three addicts & ‘The man with the twisted lip’

HELEN CATHERINE DRISCOLL  -  About the meaning of names

PASTA PENNE  -   An interesting pasta performance

SMILEY’S HIDING IN PLAIN SIGHT  -  The wallpaper in Magnussen’s bedroom

CHAINED TO A WALL INSIDE A PADDED CELL  -  A line from Bram Stoker’s DRACULA and an image from Sherlock BBC

FROM PLANE TO PLANE - THE ABOMINABLE BRIDE  -  MAIN POST: An attempt to unravel the Sherlock BBC Tapestry based on metaphorical reading

THE CHEMISTRY OF LOVE  -  Visual impressions about similar reactions of the brain, regarding love, cocain & binge eating sweets

THE BLOODHOUND IN HIS HANDS  -  Dust is eloquent for the Hound  

HOUND(S) IN 221b  -  Jim, the Hound, at Baker Street

POT-KETTLE-CAULDRON  -  Playing with names, synonyms and translations

REICHENBACH ON SCARLET CHINOISERIE  -  What a wallpaper is able to reveal

LITTLE STUDY IN YPSILONS  -  Jim & YOU & Ajay  

LADY LOUISA CARMICHAEL  …….  About the meaning of the names 

THE LOUISAS OF SHERLOCK BBC  -  Martha Louise Hudson, Dr. Louise Mortimer, Helen-Louise and Lady Louisa Carmichael

Ms & Ws  -  Playing with letters and requests

WHEN 221b SHAKES  ……  And the elephant falls  

TEARS OF A VAMPIRE  -  The elephant in Dracula BBC

FROM WATER TO WATER - THE SIX THATCHERS  -   MAIN POST: An attempt to unravel the Sherlock BBC Tapestry based on metaphorical reading

BATCHES OF SIX  -   A pattern of five: connections between busts, pips, bombs & memory sticks

WHO’S A FAN OF MAGGIE T?  -  A pattern of five: the five bust owners compared to canon & the meaning of names

SPINNING THE PLATES  -  About the importance of little cases

MIRRORS IN A BIRTHDAY BALLOON  -  About the meaning of words

THE SMASHING OF THE TWIN BUSTS  -  Miss Orrie’s two busts, flashbacks and transitions

A DROP OF BLOOD ON THE DOCTOR’S BUST  -  Toby the bloodhound and chemistry + the  H:GROUP

MARY’S HIATUS  -  A closer look on Mary’s journey & musings about Dracula, Ireland, the Orient Express and langitudes

KASBAH NIGHTS - PRETTY RACY?  -  On Marrakesh-perfume connections & other Oriental vibes

SHOWDOWN IN MOROCCO  -  Here we are at last ... Ajay & Jim

CENTRE STAGE  -  A closer look at the hostage situation in Tiblisi

A VISIT TO THE TIBLISI WORKSHOP  -  About busts, coloured dust & some very strange looking manufactures for plaster busts

FATEFUL GARDENS - EMPTY HOUSES  -  A garden comparison: Lauriston Gardens, Leinster Gardens, Miss Orrie’s Garden + pink and blue

THE PLASTER BUST REVELATION  -  Scenes and dialogues used for Sherlock’s final revelation in The Six Thatchers

THE SWIMMING POOL VARIATIONS  -   A pool-comparison: That’s what it’s all been for, hasn’t it? & This is about Mary & This and that

DROPPING THE MASKS  -  Dracula BBC vs Sherlock BBC 

FROM THERAPIST TO THERAPIST - THE LYING DETECTIVE  -   MAIN POST: An attempt to unravel the Sherlock BBC Tapestry based on metaphorical reading

SERIAL-KILLER-CONNECTIONS  -  A comparison with PILOT/ASIP

BOTTOM OF THE THAMES  -  A gun comparison

TWO TIMES FAITH  -  The two Faiths of TLD and their transformation

ANOTHER REICHENBACH  -  Some similarities with The Reichenbach Fall 

THE REPTILE IN 221b  -  The frilled-necked lizard on the mantlepiece and Mycroft’s reptile brain

THESE WORDS EXACTLY  -  Sherlock and Mr Blue-Skull: ‘I must have blacked out’ 

THE INVOLVEMENT OF FIREWORKS  -  Explosives and the Woman

FROM PLAN TO PLANE inside the plane - THE FINAL PROBLEM -  MAIN POST: An attempt to unravel the Sherlock BBC Tapestry based on metaphorical reading

ONCE SHERLOCK HAD BEEN  -  A comparison: the addict & the emotional child

EVERY CHOICE YOU EVER MADE  -  Wrong ways, wrong choices and consequences

THE NUMBER OF THE BEAST  -  I666: History meets canon and leads to prisms and rainbow colours

THE RETURN OF BASKERVILLE  -  Baskerville vibes in Series Four

THE GOVERNOR AND HIS WIFE-revisited & expanded  -  A metaphorical interpretation of the first task of Sherrinford

THE TASKS OF SHERRINFORD  -  A summary

AMONG THE FUNNY GRAVESTONES  -  Brenda, the wolf and the bird &  Alice and James & Nemo and the lists

THE STAIRCASE COMPARISON  -  I want to break free, Freddy Mercury and the Queen Video

THE SKULL …  THE FRIEND  -  John fills in for Sherlock’s skull

A DOCTOR & A JUNKIE  -  When a piece of dialogue runs full circle back to the beginning

THE PRISM  -  MAIN POST: The show as metaphorical prism for Sherlock Holmes to analyse the character

The very first explanation of what became my favourite theory, back in August 2016, before S4 aired:

THOUGHTS AND IDEAS revolving around the possibility that more than just the second half of HLV might be a bit not real. Ok some basis thoughts for this idea:  TSOT is the episode where Sherlock deduces himself successfully to be in love with John Watson. What if it is also the episode where Sherlock tries to figure out what chances there are that John Watson might also be interested in him. What does John Watson like? A male version of a commanding officer with a difficult past? Because all the nice girls like a soldier? Or a female version of a clever and cheeky woman who knows about skip-codes and is eagerly at John’s heels when the possibility of adventure and murder can be anticipated but provides also a ‘normal’ life and maybe a child?

In short: could it be possible that in TSOT we are dealing with a James Sholto and a Mary Morstan - both existing only in Sherlocks mind. Both versions of Sherlock himself. All of TSOT a sort of mind-chess to deal in his own special way with everything that happens to him emotionally. Because this is something completely new to him and he doesn’t know how to handle it otherwise.

TEH - Sherlock’s awakening sexuality. TSOT - Sherlock deducing himself into love and figuring out what John might like.  HLV - Sherlock realizing that John would be bored in a 'normal’ relationship and also that he himself would not survive being parted from John. Losing John would kill him like a shot in the heart. TAB - Sherlock asking 'Who am I and what made me like this’ . Throwing himself finally in the waterfall of his emotions. Trusting John to be clever and always at his side.  That leaves only his past to be dealt with … the burried skeleton which is still not found. Then Sherlock is free for John.

That’s just a very short summary of all the thoughts that kept us talking the last weeks … months?  I don’t know any more. Anyway, now these ideas are out. It looks like in S4 the story goes back to Reichenbach. Maybe for more than just for solving the FALL. Remember where we left them, Mofftiss said. Maybe the real showdown between Sherlock and Moriarty hasn’t happened yet and in the end we will get John at Sherlock’s side when he is finally facing his archenemy (whoever it might be)  As it always should have been. The two alone against the rest of the world.

SHERLOCK’S WEBSITE  -  The document represents the author

THE WALL HAD IT COMING  -  It’s nearly all about the wallpaper, guns and smileys

LOVE, ACTUALLY? -  Elderly ladies in Sherlock BBC and their connection to love

LOVE IS A BURNING THING  -  Fire, flames and burning as a metaphor for love

THE ROADS WE WALK  - From 'headless nuns’ to sisters turned into 'ghost stories’

VATICAN CAMEOS  -  About the Vatican connections in Sherlock BBC

A CHRISTMAS TALE  -  It’s always Christmas & Christmas is about the birth of a child

THE LIAR SERIES  -  Summary of characters called: liars

SIMILARITY IN DIFFERENCE  -  Opposite statements but the same meaning  &  ADDITION

EVERY QUIVER OF HIS BEATING HEART  -  About flags, lions, dragons, vexillology and history

THE MONSTERS ARE LOOSE  -  Classical ingredients of horror stories also used in Sherlock BBC

FINGERNAILS  -  Musings on the meaning of fingernails and countdowns in Sherlock BBC and Dracula BBC

VILLAIN DESCRIPTIONS  -  Jim Moriarty, Charles Augustus Magnussen, Culverton Smith and Count Dracula

JEKYLL - DRACULA - SHERLOCK BBC  -  Stunning similarities

THE LAST CHAPTER  -  Sherlock Chronicles, Mind Palace - stuff that’s usefull

ANATOMY OF A STAMP SERIES  -   A Study in Pink   The Great Game   A Scandal in Belgravia   The Reichenbach Fall   The Empty Hearse   The Final Problem

STILL AT THE CENTRE OF THE WEB  -   Collage for the 10th anniversary medal of Sherlock BBC  & CHEMISTRY  & MAP OF LONDON

MAGIC IN SHERLOCK BBC  -  Real magicians involved in Sherlock BBC

To be expanded in case some new ideas or new data emerges. Thanks for reading. :))))

.

Complete list of all the posts sortet by the year:  2016 2017 2018 2019 2020 2021 2022

Source of PromoPics

[katefaith18]

Enola Holmes VS. Sherlock

The Holmes' Siblings

Sherlock

William Sherlock Scott

Enola Eudoria Heddassa

Eurus

Mycroft

Mycroft

The Holmes' Parents

Eudoria Holmes

Mrs.

Mr.

Honorary Holmes'

John Watson &

Martha Louise Hudson

[sorrowsflower]

The Women of Sherlock - Quotes from ACD

Irene Adler

You do not know her, but she has a soul of steel. She has the face of the most beautiful of women, and the mind of the most resolute of men.

And that was how the best plans of Mr. Sherlock Holmes were beaten by a woman’s wit... And when he speaks of Irene Adler, or when he refers to her photograph, it is always under the honourable title of the woman.

Mary Morstan-Watson

So we stood hand-in-hand, like two children, and there was peace in our hearts for all the dark things that surrounded us.

Martha Hudson

Mrs Hudson, the landlady of Sherlock Holmes, was a long-suffering woman. Not only was her first-floor flat invaded at all hours by throngs of singular and often undesirable characters but her remarkable lodger showed an eccentricity and irregularity in his life which must have sorely tried her patience.

Molly Hooper (from the Abominable Bride)

Amazing what one has to do to get ahead in a man's world.

[pixel3603]

Rules: Answer 20 questions, then tag 20 bloggers you want to get to know better. Honestly who gives a shit about me doing any of this but hey name reveal 1) I don’t even know 20 people let alone 20 bloggers 2) uughhhh all I can think of rn is @jenny-calendar 1. NAME: Martha 2. NICKNAMES: ‘the gay one?’ Or ‘fuckwad’ sometimes ‘bitch’, ‘Weirdo’, ‘crazy person’ etc. 3. ZODIAC SIGN: gemini or cancer, depends on where you read it tbh 4. HEIGHT: no bloody clue probably 1m 55 or something 5. LANGUAGES SPOKEN: English, tiny bit of Spanish, extremely limited German 6. NATIONALITY: British 7. FAVOURITE SEASON: probably Summer as there’s a huge ass holiday right in the middle of it 8. FAVOURITE FLOWER: I like roses I guess? 9. FAVOURITE SCENT: OLD BOOKS ARE THE BEST SMELL CHANGE MY MIND 10. FAVOURITE COLOUR: Yellow or Black 11. FAVOURITE ANIMAL: I like snakes and cats 12. FAVOURITE FICTIONAL CHARACTER(s): *deep breath* The Doctor, Rose, Susan, Ian, Barbra, Sarah Jane, Leela, Ace, Donna, Amy, Rory, River, Clara, Bill, Yaz, Graham, Ryan’s eh, Steven, Peridot, lapis, pearl,Garnet, Bismuth, Michal, Tahani, Jason, Elenor, Faith, Giles, Jenny, Anya, Tara, Willow, Louise, Tina, Gene, Sherlock, John, Mrs Hudson etc. 13. COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE: T E A 14. AVERAGE SLEEP HOURS: probably 6-8 15. DOG OR CAT PERSON: Cat 16. NUMBER OF BLANKETS YOU SLEEP WITH: one 17. DREAM TRIP: Australia or Canada 18. BLOG ESTABLISHED: 2019 19. FOLLOWERS: 8 20. RANDOM FACT: The Redon my favourite colour was yellow for a long time was because in ks1 I went to an optional Spanish class and forgot the word for pink so I just said yellow.

[sophyanderson221]

More IOUs in The Reichenbach Fall

Apart from the obvious ones (the one on the apple, the graffiti on the wall, the one painted on the windows), there are two funny IOU:

A ad for an iphone on the newspaper:

iPhone 4. UK’s lowest price. That’s an IOU and an Apple.

An IOU made of a headboard= IO+ a U-shaped magnet:

There are incomplete ones, made of ones and zeroes:

Number ten

I’m convinced it’s a misinterpreted message, like AMMO/AMO.

What could it mean if not IOU?

LOV ?

Löwe, German for lion? (that would be Anderson’s deduction)

Numbers as in TBB:  10 U? 10 V (5 in Latin)?

Is it LOU, short for Louise, as so many women in there have Louise as first or middle name (Louise Mortimer, Louise Carmichael, Martha Louise Hudson, dead Helen Louise)?