Hello, you have somehow reached the ask blog of me, the woman Sherlock Holmes. You, however, can call me Shelock. Go on then, do whatever you came to do and go. I have business to attend to.
// NOTE: Faceclaime is... Me! This is an ask, cosplay, and RP blog. Don't be shy!
Very small NSFW chance.
cheapversionofalyssaedwards said: TAG! You’re it! State 10 random facts about yourself and then tag 10 other blogs. Have fun!
1. I’m a girl
2. I’m quite geeky
3. Fashion is my second language
4. I can speak French fairly well
5. If I could have any superpower, I would be able to teleport (cause I’m a scaredy cat), not only from place to place, but as well as to past and future.
5. I love Tom Hiddleston
6. I plan on traveling Europe once I’m done with collage, and living in either England or France.
7. I’m dating a very wonderful and handsome English man (yes, in real life)
8. I was born October 7 1995.
9. I live life on Tumblr
10. I wish I could live in America or England in the 1940’s
She shrugged the answer not pleasing her. She really was curious. Was he in some sort of contract with someone? Not likely, considering that Sherlock would have caught it by now, and he turned down a paid job of Mycroft to spy on her. Perhaps he was just one of those people who…
Sherlock made a small scoffing noise in the back of her throat. Did John think her that helpless? After all, she had survived on her own before him. She could fight professionally. Not that it was nearly as enjoyable as having his company, though. She liked having John around to make her tea, and do that annoying blogging thing. Things were more interesting with John here.
She allowed her face to fall. “How do you stand to live with me?” The last thing Sherlock was would be a fool; she knew most people that interacted with her just once found her either intimidating, annoying, or without emotion. Even Lestrade and Molly wouldn’t last long in a house with her. She was a difficult person.
John shrugged at a loss for words. He honestly had no idea why he stayed half the time. Sherlock was Sherlock and there was no other way to describe her. It was true that she drove him mad a good portion of the time, but he wouldn’t leave. He couldn’t. “Because I’m your doctor, and I look after you.” He figured that was a safe answer.
She shrugged the answer not pleasing her. She really was curious. Was he in some sort of contract with someone? Not likely, considering that Sherlock would have caught it by now, and he turned down a paid job of Mycroft to spy on her. Perhaps he was just one of those people who were naturally able to deflect narcissism and indifference. “That wasn’t a real answer. However, I won’t press you. I’m too tired.”
Sherlock loosened her lips, pursing them. She crosse her arms. She wasn’t a child… Sherlock glared at John, though not with intimidation. “I’m no child, John. I’m a grown adult, thank you.” She pointed out. Okay, so she was barely twenty, but she was technically an adult. And…
Sherlock felt a little bad for shooing John away so defiantly. After all, he was only trying to help her. She was the or who had persuaded him to stay here and baby her. Sherlock sighed, taking a small note of her soup. She let the spoon fall from her loosely gripping fingers, eyeing him. “Are you upset?” She asked, quite literally.
John shook his head. “No, I’d just appreciate it if the help you wanted-no-demanded would be accepted.” he said, laying back onto the bed, clasping his hands behind his head. “Don’t make me forcefeed you that soup.”
At first, Sherlock felt a slight bit guilty. However, the mood lightened soon, and she took another bit of her food. Surprisingly, it was pretty good. This was why she always got John to make the tea and such. “John,” She sighed nonchalantly, face calm, “how do you do it?”
John furrowed his brow, and looked over to Sherlock. “How do I do what?” he asked, before looking back to the ceiling.
She allowed her face to fall. “How do you stand to live with me?” The last thing Sherlock was would be a fool; she knew most people that interacted with her just once found her either intimidating, annoying, or without emotion. Even Lestrade and Molly wouldn’t last long in a house with her. She was a difficult person.
Sherlock loosened her lips, pursing them. She crosse her arms. She wasn’t a child… Sherlock glared at John, though not with intimidation. “I’m no child, John. I’m a grown adult, thank you.” She pointed out. Okay, so she was barely twenty, but she was technically an adult. And…
Sherlock felt a little bad for shooing John away so defiantly. After all, he was only trying to help her. She was the or who had persuaded him to stay here and baby her. Sherlock sighed, taking a small note of her soup. She let the spoon fall from her loosely gripping fingers, eyeing him. “Are you upset?” She asked, quite literally.
John shook his head. “No, I’d just appreciate it if the help you wanted-no-demanded would be accepted.” he said, laying back onto the bed, clasping his hands behind his head. “Don’t make me forcefeed you that soup.”
At first, Sherlock felt a slight bit guilty. However, the mood lightened soon, and she took another bit of her food. Surprisingly, it was pretty good. This was why she always got John to make the tea and such. “John,” She sighed nonchalantly, face calm, “how do you do it?”
Sherlock loosened her lips, pursing them. She crosse her arms. She wasn’t a child… Sherlock glared at John, though not with intimidation. “I’m no child, John. I’m a grown adult, thank you.” She pointed out. Okay, so she was barely twenty, but she was technically an adult. And…
Sherlock felt a little bad for shooing John away so defiantly. After all, he was only trying to help her. She was the or who had persuaded him to stay here and baby her. Sherlock sighed, taking a small note of her soup. She let the spoon fall from her loosely gripping fingers, eyeing him. “Are you upset?” She asked, quite literally.
