#sherlock ficlet

[chriscalledmesweetie]

But It's a Ten, John!

“Don’t you dare respond to that text.”

“It’s Lestrade.”

“It could be the queen for all I care. Don’t respond.”

“It might be a case.”

“It could be a hundred cases. Don’t even look at your phone.”

“It’s a locked room triple homicide!”

“I told you not to look. Put the phone down.”

“But it’s a ten, John!”

“I don’t care if it’s an eleven. Drop the phone.”

“The scale only goes up to ten.”

“Sherlock, I am not going to ask you again. Drop the phone or I’m pulling out.”

“Fine. But this fuck had better be a ten.”

The OTW invited folks to create drabbles incorporating the number 10 on February 15th to celebrate the 10th annual International Fanworks Day. I spent 10 minutes on this little tidbit for you. It’s inspired by a scene from The Only One in the World, I Invented the Job by @apliddell.

I’m tagging some folks who might be interested. Please let me know if you’d like me to tag or untag you.

@mydogwatson  @totallysilvergirl  @bluebellofbakerstreet @sarahthecoat  @helloliriels  @daisyfairy1 @imnova  @kittenmadnessandtea  @marta-bee  @whodwantmeasaflatmate @iwantthatbelstaffanditsoccupant  @jobooksncoffee  @peanitbear @bakingsherlycakes @missdeliadilisblog @kettykika78 @stellacartography @shelleysprometheus @iamjustreading @chinike @sgam76 @loves-to-read-fanfic @inevitably-johnlocked @johnlockismyreligion @calaisreno @with-a-ghost-mr-holmes @macgyvershe

[topsyturvy-turtely]

Fluffbruary with turtely

(missed days edition)

Day 25

[day 24] [day 26]

prompts: breathe | offer | ignite by @fluffbruary <3

fandom: BBC Sherlock

will be uploaded to "That Stuff Called Fluff" on Ao3!

A/N: *loading dots* the... slowest... updates... ever... idk what you were expecting?! i AM a turtle?!

♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡

a 221b

He breathes out.

He follows the goosebumps caused by the carbon dioxide and oxygen mix coming from his lungs with his eyes.

Then his fingers itch to touch the bumpy skin; his fingertips almost not touching.

The man underneath him stretches and a noise is formed inside. It's a sound of content.

“What are you doing, Sherlock?”

“Deepening my analysis about the impact of my breaths on your skin.”

“You mean my goosebumps?”

“Horripilation, yes.”

“Nobody says that, you know.”

“Doctors say that. And I happen to know one.”

“But you aren't!”

Sherlock falls silent. So John turns around laying on his arm now, his upper body facing Sherlock. “What have you found out?”

“A variety of deductions, really.”

“Well, tell me about them.”

“First: Me breathing on your skin causes horripilation. Second: You like it when we share the air in between signs of affection.”

“It's called kisses, babe.”

“That's what I said, yes. Third: You like it when I breathe into your ear.” Sherlock whispers this into said body part. John stifles a shiver.

“You're such a tease.” The blogger growls and pulls Sherlock on top of him. They breathe the same air, hesitating, anticipating, until John gives in and kisses him lightly.

“Conclusion?”, he asks then.

“Conclusion”, Sherlock answers. “I am breathtaking.” Then he kisses him until breathlessness.

♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡

A/N: i simply can't be objective with my own writing. i love it and hate it at the same time (usually tending to the latter). PLEASE: give me feedback!

tag list! (tell me if you wanna be added or removed💚) @justanobsessedpan @helloliriels @fluffbyday-smutbynight @inevitably-johnlocked @hisfavouritejumper @rhasima @forfucksakejohn @ohlooktheresabee @turbulenttrouble @so-youre-unattached-like-me @totallysilvergirl @peanitbear @train-mossman @loki-lock @smulderscobie @timberva @grace-in-the-wilderness @chinike @pansherlock @the-smol-bean-libby-blog @jawnn-watson @whatnext2020 @escapingthereality @missdeliadili @kettykika78 @musingsofmyown @7-percent @speedymoviesbyscience @astudyin221b @francj15 @almosttinycowboy @ladylindaaa @we-r-loonies @mxster-jocale @sherlockcorner @noahspector @our-stars-graveside @jobooksncoffee @baker-street-blog @psychosociogentleman @quickslvxr @macgyvershe @myladylyssa @johnlock2708 @battledress @a-victorian-girl @dreamerofthemeadow @oetkb12 @ohnoesnotagain @mutedsilence

[calaisreno]

Prompt for May 24: Flattery

@lisbeth-kk @elwinglyre @meetinginsamarra @raina-at @prettyrealisticjohnlockfanart @bertytravelsfar @momma2boys @jrow @helloliriels @the-reading-lemon @totallysilvergirl @gregorovitchworld

No invitation necessary! Write a ficlet! Tag some writers!

Thank you for reblogging 💗

[helloliriels]

2022 Year of the Crack Fic: WRITING ✍️ CHALLENGE

Break out of your usual mold! Write something you think is silly! I challenge you, be wild! be free! (your plot bunnies will thank me!)

What wild idea could you smash into a fic? What unhinged headcanon would make a masterpiece? What would be ridiculous for *you* to write? We want a piece o’ this insanity! (Worried your fic would be ToO CrAcKeD ...?? you can always blame it on me!!! 😁)

CRACK FICS WANTED! Any Length, Any rating! Johnlock, Mystrade or Sherlock content all welcome!; post to AO3 collection ’2022_Crack_Fix’ by Dec 32nd, 2022 to qualify! Accepting WiP as long as it gets cracky before 2023! (Please properly tag your entries!) Fic does not require a pairing. ACD sherlock welcome!

Let’s fill some inboxes with SMILES and spread a little cheer! 🥳🎉(Can’t stop, won’t stop! ‘til the new year rings!)

WARNING! Crack fics are not for everyone. Use of Crack Fics may result in uncontrollable laughter, incoherent giggling, unresolved happiness, and the need for more absurdity! If you use Crack Fics more than thrice daily, your threshold for seeing possible humorous plot points in everyday fics may improve. Use crack fics at your own risk. Side effects may include: the overwhelming urge to write crack fics; an excessive use of hyperbole; an uncontrollable desire to read more crack fics; and in some rare cases, a desperate pleading for authors to post another chapter to their current crack fic! Stop reading crack fics if you feel your toes going numb (Seriously, we’re still not sure what is causing that one … ) 🤔⁉️

Read CrAcK Fics | Submit CrAcK FiCs | RuLeS? WhaT RuLeS?

(accidentally deleted the OP! haha, so here it is again!) 💋

@johnlocky @chinike @rhasima @whatnext2020 @janetm74 @ohlooktheresabee @fluffbyday-smutbynight spread the word!

[meetinginsamarra]

5 New Sherlock Ficlets Just Dropped !

Want to read something short?

There are 5 new Sherlock ficlets by me! All under 404 words.

Find them here Sherlock Ficlets for Writing Challenges parts 6-10

Have a look and give ‘em some love. Please.

First posted on my tumblr, now also on AO3 (the 6th will be added soon and it’s very likely that there will be more).

[emaster875]

Sick Fic

1k+ words, John’s POV <3

“Sherlock, I’m going out to the shops. Do you need anything?” He called out as he pulled on his shoes.

Sherlock had been in his room all day, presumably catching up on the sleep he had missed out on after their most recent case which had them both neglecting a reasonable sleep schedule. 

He got no response but he just assumed it was Sherlock being Sherlock and was soon on his way out the door to do the shopping.

…

After he had gotten back he laid his handfuls of grocery bags down on the counter and started putting everything away. When he was done he decided he would make some tea for himself and his flatmate.

“Sherlock, I’m making tea, do you want any?” He called out in the direction of Sherlock's closed door.

He waited a moment but there was no reply. He called out again but still, there was no response. He decided to go to Sherlock to ask, now that he thought about it he hadn’t seen him all day and it was well into the afternoon.

“Sherlock, are you in your mind palace again?” He asked through the door. He of course got no response “I’m coming in, I hope you're decent.” He said as he opened Sherlock's door.

The first thing he saw when he opened the door was a mound of blankets on the bed under which he could see the curls of the one and only consulting detective.

“Sherlock, are you asleep?” He asked even though he knew Sherlock would think that was a stupid question.

Sherlock stirred and peeked his head out of the pile of blankets cheeks flushed abnormally red “Hmm?” he hummed.

“Are you cold?” He asked. It wasn’t exactly a hot day but the number of blankets Sherlock was using seemed a bit excessive.

“Quite the opposite,” Sherlock said and he saw him visibly shiver. “Is that all you came in here to ask me?” Sherlock asked.

“Um, no, sorry. I came to ask if you wanted any tea.”

“Yes, please.” 

“Alrighty,” He said and stood in the doorway awkwardly for a moment then left the room closing the door behind him.

As he put the kettle on the stovetop he heard Sherlock’s door open and the man exit the room heading straight for the sofa dragging at least three blankets along with him.

Soon the kettle was whistling shrilly and he was pouring the hot water over the tea bags and adding sugar to his and Sherlock’s cups putting a splash of milk in his.

He walked over to the sofa and set Sherlock’s tea out in front of the man and sat down with his own cup blowing on it to cool it down. 

As he sipped on his own cup Sherlock’s still remained untouched.

“Sherlock, are you not going to drink your tea?”

Sherlock looked up, he had obviously been spaced out thinking, and picked up the teacup and began sipping off of it. 

While he sat there he noticed an occasional chattering sound and looked to see it was Sherlock’s teeth that were chattering and that the man was noticeably shivering throughout his whole body despite being surrounded by blankets.

“Sherlock are you alright? You don’t look too good?” He asked, concerned.

“I’m fine, John,” Sherlock said dismissively, taking another sip of his tea.

“If you say so,” He said but as they both sat there every once and a while he would hear Sherlock’s teeth chatter or, out of the corner of his eye he would see him shiver but it was apparent Sherlock was trying not to show how cold he was.

After about a half an hour of this, he decided to check if Sherlock was sick. The other man wasn’t exactly known for being able to take care of his health properly and he wanted to make sure that Sherlock didn’t make anything worse.

“Sherlock,” He said looking over to him and seeing the man was sweating as though he had just run a marathon in the heat of summer.

“Yes, John?’ he answered.

“You’re sick aren’t you?”

“No, I’m just cold.” Sherlock could be so childish sometimes. It was becoming increasingly obvious that Sherlock was sick, contrary to what he was claiming.

“I’m a doctor, Sherlock it wasn’t really a question. I know when someone is sick.”

“Well, I’m fine. I probably just have a cold.” Sherlock said not so subtly wiping away the sweat that was beading on his forehead.

He got up from his chair and walked over to where Sherlock was lying and put a hand on his forehead to check if he had a fever causing Sherlock to roll his eyes. Just as he had suspected Sherlock was burning up.

“Yep, you have a fever. It’s not just a cold and I’m going to make sure you get better because knowing you, you wouldn’t make the effort to.”

“I can take care of myself just fine,” Sherlock said stubbornly and sat up from where he was lying.

“Yes, you’re right you can take very good care of yourself now get up so we can get you back into bed.” He said sarcastically.

Sherlock did as he was told and shivered the whole way to his room. When he was back in his bed he helped him pile blankets on making sure that he was as comfortable as possible before leaving the room promising to come back with soup that would hopefully help warm him up.

He made a thin soup so that in case Sherlock started feeling nauseous enough to throw up it wouldn’t be too bad. He made it as fast as he could so that it could warm up the other man as soon as possible. He knew how awful it felt to be sick and cold and fighting to keep warm.

Before he walked into Sherlock’s room he gave a short knock to let him know he was coming in. “John?” Sherlock answered.

“I’m here,” he said walking over to him with the bowl of soup.

He set it down on the side stand and helped Sherlock sit up listening to him mutter something about being achy and unable to stop shivering.

“Here you go,” He said laying out a kitchen towel on Sherlock's lap (in case of spills) and passing him the bowl of steaming soup.

“Thank you, John,” Sherlock said sounding truly grateful as he held the bowel close to absorb its warmth.

“No problem. Call me if you need anything,” He said and turned to leave.

“Wait, John,” Sherlock said just as he reached the door.

“Yes?” 

“Do you think you could stay here with me for a little while?” He asked looking down at his soup seemingly embarrassed to ask.

He smiled fondly at the sick man “Of course I can, let me just grab myself my own bowl of soup. Do you need anything from the kitchen?”

Sherlock gave him a small smile that made his heart flutter and said “Another blanket would be appreciated,”

“Sounds good,” He said and left the room.

Before he went to serve himself up some of the soup he went to his bedroom to get his favorite blanket which was very warm and very comfy.

When he returned to the room he saw Sherlock had only had a few bites of his soup which was no good.

“How’s the soup?” He asked as he put his bowel down so that he could lay the extra blanket down on to the sick man.

“Mmm, very good,” Sherlock said and put a big spoonful into his mouth to show he liked it.

“Good,” He said as he sat down with his own bowl next to Sherlock. They sat shoulder to shoulder both peacefully eating their food. 

“Aren’t you afraid to get sick sitting so close to me?” Sherlock asked.

“I’m a doctor, Sherlock if I was afraid of getting sick I would have chosen a better profession.” He said scooting closer to prove his point.

“Fair enough,” Sherlock said and put his half-finished soup on the side stand and snuggled farther down into the bed leaning his head on his shoulder causing him to stiffen. Sherlock rarely let himself be touched let alone touched other people but here he was leaning against him like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“You’re so warm, John.” Sherlock said snuggling in even closer then he looked up at him “You don’t mind, do you, John?” He asked as he wrapped his arms loosely around him.

He swallowed thickly and then said, “Yeah, sure what ever’s comfortable for you.” 

“I’m going to lie down then, not to sleep just to rest my eyes,” Sherlock said and scooted down and laid his head in his lap and making sure every part of him except a bit of his face was under a blanket.

Within minutes Sherlock was asleep even though he said he was only resting his eyes, not that he cared. He could feel the warm exhale of Sherlock’s breathing against his leg and felt him occasionally shiver in his sleep.

He put a hand down on Sherlock’s side and leaned his head back against the headboard and decided to “rest his eyes” too.

@musingsofmyown I hope you liked it <3

Idk why but I had the urge to write a sick fic for so long so I finally did it. Also don’t mind the tittle. I wasn’t able to think of anything.

[musingsofmyown]

I'm going to make a new mini-fic series! It's going to strictly be on here so if you guys want to be on a tag list then by all means let me know in the comments or reblog!

I have an old document called "Things Sherlock has said but nobody will believe them" so I've decided to turn the dialogue into mini-fics!

I introduce: The Missing Cases of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson

Missing case #001

Sherlock Holmes doesn't drink.

Correction: Sherlock Holmes doesn't drink often, and when he does, it's usually to the point of drunkenness and then some.

The night previous, he and Doctor John Watson celebrated 3 years living together in 221b Baker Street. John, having a bit more tolerance than Sherlock, made a bet to see who could down the most alcohol by the end of their 'party'.

Spoiler Alert: neither of them were conscious enough to remember who won-

Unfortunately for them, having passed out on the couch (together), Lestrade came the next morning with the murder of six men:

He didn't bother knocking after hearing Mrs. Hudson's account of the Baker Street Boys' activities the night prior,"Morning boys!"

The two jumped up from their tangled positions,"Fuck off-" Sherlock was the first to realise what was going on,"I don't want the case Gavin."

"Too bad kid, and you're coming too John,"He pointed at each of them,"C'mon, make yourselves decent, we leave in ten."

The ride to the scene was less than ideal considering that every bump in the pavement felt like a mountain and the sun had chosen to shine that particular morning. What a miracle, or rather curse as Sherlock was so kind to point out as they left the flat only minutes before.

"You two look properly hung over, had fun last night?" Donovan let the two disoriented men under the tape,"Better not have done anything scandalous, the press would have a field day with that."

"How about-,"Sherlock turned, very slowly as to not increase the severity of his migraine,"-you piss off."

She raised her hands in mock surrender and let them carry on into the building where Lestrade and Anderson waited,"Sherlock, are you gonna be okay working this case with your hangover-?" John had pretty much recovered by this point,"You seem- off."

"Oh, oh so after years of working together you're complaining about me being 'off',"Sherlock blinked a couple times after his remark,"I don't think I should be here-" his mind swam with incoherent deductions as they enetered the room.

"Greg told me about the little party you guys had, is he even going to be able to solve-"Anderson was cut off by an abrupt comment from Sherlock.

"Shut up! The genius is about to speak!"

case end-

[ileenhaddockhawkins]

Night terror (Parentlock ficlet)

READ ON AO3

Last night, the wind was blowing so hard it woke me up several times. During one state of consciousness, a plot bunny appeared and I had to write it down. This ficlet is the result. Enjoy some parentlock with Rosie!

English is not my first language, unintended mistakes may happen. Though chaotic punctuation is intentional, that’s the way I like to write emotional scenes.

Also, this ficlet is my first attempt ever at writing these characters, please be easy on me.

Amazing gif made by @sherlockspeare​

The whole flat is rumbling. It comes from all sides, an invisible noose tightening everything around, entrapping the world and leaving no room for sleep. Everything is noise, unfamiliar and startling. These are unpredictable blows, attacks launched so viciously that they aren’t seen coming.

Eyes wide open, hidden under the duvet, Rosie is on the lookout. She lies, waiting for a moment of silence for her fatigue to finally slip into and bring her back to the blessed unconsciousness of sleep.

But another loud tear cuts into the comfortable space of her bedroom, and that’s more than she can bear.

It only takes her a few seconds.

She pushes back the duvet, her bare feet on the ground (no time to put her slippers on, never mind), worried thoughts trailing after her,

“quick, it’s coming

quiet, it’s coming for me”

she opens the door crosses the landing hurtles down the stairs–

/Another tear ripping through the air/

in the middle of the living room she stops jumps covers her ears

deer in the headlights, frozen by fear

then pulls herself together, runs–no, flies–to the door at the end of the hallway, bursts into the bedroom like a fury,

“Daddy! Papa! I’m scared!”

She hops on the bed and grips the sheets, everything she can hold onto: John’s shoulder while he sits up, surprised; Sherlock’s hand coming to find hers and calm her.

“Hey, hey, Sweet Bee, it’s alright, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not! It’s coming to find me!”

John hushes his daughter’s cries, wiping her tears with a gentle thumb, running his other hand in her hair, pushing away the fear out of her.

“Ssh, it’s alright. It’s just the storm. Just the wind and the thunder. It’ll pass. The house is not going to crumble.”

“No, I know that. But… it’s coming for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m scared because it’s here to find me, because… because I did something wrong.”

“What is it that you did, sweetheart? You can tell us.”

Sherlock props himself up on his elbow, watching Rosie with a glint in his eye, half smiling.

“Is it about you breaking one of my flasks and hiding it away, hoping I wouldn’t notice?”

Rosie lowers her head so as not to catch Sherlock’s eyes. John stares at them, in disbelief.

“What? Rosie, have you been playing with Papa’s equipment?” Then to Sherlock, “I told you to keep this safe away from her!”

“No! Daddy, I didn’t play with it. I was playing with the bouncing ball and it hit it.”

Sherlock chuckles, then takes Rosie’s tiny hands in his.

“Sweet Bee, listen to me. First, there’s no need to hide anything from me as I can deduce it just by looking at you–no, don’t laugh John, you know it’s true. And second, I don’t care about the flask, okay? I have plenty of those anyway.”

“So you’re not mad then?”

Sherlock sits the little girl on his lap and starts tickling her. Rosie rewards him with waves of laughter.

“Of course I’m not! Nor is the sky, by the way. This is just a good old storm, it’s not here to punish you or anything, alright?”

”Alright,” Rosie manages in between two giggles.

John smiles at them with infinite softness.

“Okay, but to avoid any further incident, Papa will make sure to put away his stuff once he’s finished with an experiment, right Sherlock?”

John is still smiling, but the look he throws at his husband bears no argument.

“Yes, yes. It’s obvious this ball holds a grudge against my flasks anyway. Better hide them!”

Rosie flashes them a mischievous smile and they all burst into laughter.

“Very good. Now, sweetheart, it’s time to go back to sleep.”

“Okay, but... Can I stay with you, just for tonight?”

John tries his best to keep his this-is-serious face on.

“Rosie, remember what we’ve said–“

“Oh, come on, John,” Sherlock groans, looking very amused by the situation. “Can’t we break the rule for one night? I promise this episode isn’t going to question any of your past and future strategical decision regarding our daughter’s education.”

Pursing his lips, John gives it a thought and nods, sighing.

“Okay, okay. Come here, sweetheart.”

As they all shift and settle back down onto the bed, John whispers knowingly into Sherlock’s ear:

“You’re a bad influence, Sherlock Holmes. You might have to make it up to me.”

“Please, by all means, I’d be happy to,” Sherlock replies, which earns him a playful nudge on the shoulder.

And that’s how Rosie Watson managed to fall back asleep for the rest of the night, nestled in between her dads, spread out on the bed like a starfish. Needless to say, John and Sherlock didn’t have the best night of their life, but this was nothing compared to the innocent and content smile adorably displayed on their daughter’s face.

[khorazir]

“Sherlock?”

“Hmmm”

“You asleep yet?”

“Obviously not, or I wouldn’t be talking.”

“You weren’t talking until now, just humming.”

“Well, I’m awake now. What’s the matter?”

“Your phone hasn’t made that noise yet.”

“What noise?”

“You know. That text alert noise it makes whenever you get a text from ... her.”

“I changed it.”

“You did?“

“Yes.”

“When? I thought it wasn’t possible.”

“It turned out to be possible.”

“Right. So ... she hasn’t texted you yet?”

“Why would she text me?”

“Because it’s your birthday. Midnight has just passed.”

“Oh. Will there be cake later?”

“Happy birthday, Sherlock. And yes, of course there will be cake. It’s obligatory, after all.”

“Indeed it is. And John?”

“Yeah?”

“Stop being jealous. After all, I’m here with you now, and you’re the only person I want in my bed – or have ever wanted. Even if I might get a text from The Woman later, and even if I text her back occasionally.”

“Sorry, Sherlock. I love you, too.”

“Obviously.”

“When, it wasn’t obvious to either of us for a good while.”

“Yes, because we were idiots.”

“Even you?”

“As much as I hate to admit it, yes, even I.”

For Sherlock’s birthday, and also for this month’s @sherlockchallenge : Envelope

[strawberrywinter4]

Unleash

Fandom: Sherlock (TV)

Rated: Mature

Tags: BAMF John Watson, Protective John Watson, Doctor John Watson, John Watson Loves Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Holmes Loves John Watson, Dark Themes, Case Fic, Sherlock Holmes Whump, Hurt Sherlock Holmes, Drugs, Drugging, John Watson to the Rescue, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, First Kiss, Kissing, Rough Kissing

Sherlock touches John’s arm briefly and John’s attention goes back to him instantly. His hand grips Sherlock’s form, bringing him impossibly closer. John presses their heads together, his voice coming to a whisper. “Everything will be okay, darling. I promise. Just hang in there for me. Stay awake.” Darling was on instinct. Really, it’s the only thing that grounds John. Sherlock’s anguished eyes meet John again, though it seems like he’s struggling to do just that.

Read here on ao3.

Tags: @a-victorian-girl @jolieblack @whatnext2020 @helloliriels @colourfulwatson @totallysilvergirl @ninasnakie @thegildedbee @whodwantmeasaflatmate @with-a-ghost-mr-holmes @sherlocknjohn221b @jawnn-watson @blogstandbygo @lisbeth-kk @holmesianlove @7-percent @itsonlytext @chinike @peanitbear @mary-johnlocked @bakerstreetbe @curlyjohnlock @keirgreeneyes @ceceliajupe @ghostofnuggetspast @dw91165 @demonboycrowley

(Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged or wouldn’t like to be tagged.)

Omg, I finally finished it! Thanks to all who encouraged me with BAMF John. It meant so much🥰

[topsyturvy-turtely]

Purple doesn't suit him anymore

I had always thought purple suited him. That specific purple shirt... not elaborating, in case kids read this, but let me tell you... it did things to me.

And again... purple on him does things to me. Bad things. Initiating gut-wrenching guilt, which causes nausea, mental and physical pain. I want to bend over and throw up. But I don't deserve that kind of relief. I don't deserve to cry. I don't deserve to be even close to him. How could I deserve that... when I - me, John H. Watson - am the very reason for this distinct purple colour around his eye. When I am the reason he got broken ribs... and more purple bruises hidden behind this light blue shirt.

I am supposed to be his doctor, not his tormenter. I've failed, and if I could tie my arteries and veins to knots to make my heart start turning purple... I would.

~~~

prompt "purple" by @notjustamumj

thanks for the tag @meetinginsamarra and @lisbeth-kk

tagging @helloliriels @totallysilvergirl @gregorovitchworld

[lisbeth-kk]

December moments

Prompts used in this chapter: seasonal illness - the Case of the Frozen Corpse - midnight - jolly

What’s worse than an ill doctor, you wonder? I’ll tell you. It’s an ill consulting detective. 

December 15

“I’m dying, John” Sherlock rasps with a hoarse voice. 

“No, you’re not,” John says and places a cold cloth on Sherlock’s hot forehead. 

The great detective is rarely ill, but when he is, his dramatic personae comes forth with full force. He’s got John’s full sympathy, because John hates being ill himself, and he sucks at being a patient. Where John gets grumpy and aggressive, Sherlock whines and gets clingy as a child with separation anxiety. It can be endearing but also utterly taxing. As long as Sherlock’s fever is this high, John’s reluctant to leave him by himself, and has asked Mycroft to get one of his minions to do some shopping. Mrs. Hudson is also under the weather, so John’s included her shopping list too when he texted the older Holmes brother. 

***

When John comes back from checking on their landlady, who doesn’t need a doctor’s attention thank you very much, Sherlock’s dozed off on the sofa. John sighs relieved, finally getting some time to himself. He takes a quick shower and starts to write down their last case on the blog, which he calls The Case of the Frozen Corpse, fully knowing that Sherlock will disapprove.

It never ceases to amaze John how vast Sherlock’s knowledge about obscure establishments and businesses within London is. It had only taken him a glance at the missing man’s correspondence to realise where he was. The butchery hadn’t been mentioned per se; only the word Baron, which evidently was enough for the great detective. 

Close to Baron’s Court was a butchery with a large freezer. After a thorough search, that made all the involved cold to the bone, they’d found the corpse of the missing man. 

Brilliant, as always, John concludes and posts the entry. 

He startles when he hears his name being called. It’s almost midnight and John’s ready for bed and is grateful that he doesn’t have to rouse Sherlock from his sleep. 

“How are you feeling, love?” John asks and kneels in front of the sofa. 

“Still dying, I’m afraid,” Sherlock mutters, but his temperature is more to John’s liking now. 

He’ll probably be fine after a couple of days with enough sleep and rest. 

“Let’s get you to bed, and if you’re a jolly good boy I might read my last blog entry as a bedtime story to you,” John promises. 

It’s clearly too painful to roll his eyes, but Sherlock manages a sound John chooses to interpret as yes, John…

Read it on AO3

@totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @a-victorian-girl @phoenix27884 @helloliriels @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitchworld @topsyturvy-turtely @sabsi221b @peanitbear @raina-at

[helloliriels]

'When all is lost, your face I see ...

... Do you, still then, remember me?'

Remember Me by helloliriels (GIF art made to accompany ficlet)

Based on this actual knitted soldier found in UK for Remembrance Day, Syston, Liecestershire. (I've moved it to London .... shhhh!)

Uncle Rudy w/Baby Sherlock, Mummy Holmes with Kindergarten Lock, Teenlock w/Mycroft, Sherlock alone, The Soldier (John) carrying Sherlock home to 221b. (wanted to do a few more of the in-between years, but stuck with just adding Uncle Rudy, like it had been their routine for years)

@chinike @rhasima @johnlocky @whatnext2020 @iwlyanmw @mrb488 @fluffbyday-smutbynight @totallysilvergirl @7-percent @sarahthecoat @kettykika78 @khorazir @musingsofmyown @mutedsilence @cmorris-art @safedistancefrombeingsmart @chriscalledmesweetie @discordantwords @john-smiths-jawline @gregorovitchworld @lisbeth-kk @dontfuckmylifewtf @so-youre-unattached-like-me @colourfulwatson @pocketwatchofmycroft @aquilea-of-the-lonely-mountain @loki-lock @missdeliadili @sgam76 @peanitbear @morgendaemmerung89 @zira-and-crowley @teamkidman @meetinginsamarra @keirgreeneyes @impalaparkedat221b @topsyturvy-turtely @a-victorian-girl @thegirlfromthesouth @insistentbass @arwamachine @solarmama @amyreadsandstresses @glows-n-the-dark @masterofhounds @inevitably-johnlocked @kittenmadnessandtea @raina-at @anyway-kindness @purplevatican

[ceruleanmindpalace]

Yay, finally managed to do some art this week. It comes with a ficlet:

TLD - Missing Scene

After 'The Hug' and before Euros shot John.

John heard a soft creak on the stairs outside his room and froze. Mrs Hudson was already asleep and the only other adult person in the house was Sherlock. Rosie was peacefully sleeping in her cot across the room. Sherlock rarely ever came up here and he had lain down to sleep early. Due to withdrawal he was constantly tired and slept a lot these days.

John was not sure what to do. Whoever was out there was trying to cause as little noise as possible. His gaze wandered to his desk drawer, the place where he had stored his gun when he still lived here, but it was long gone.

Another barely audible creak of the floorboards, this time just outside his room.

Then a sound that was so soft, he almost missed it; a very gentle knock, not on the wood of the door itself, but probably on the doorframe.

No intruder would be so stupid to cause this much noise, John decided and stood up, careful to not  disturb Rosie.

He was over at the door in two steps and slowly opened it.

Outside, in the dim light, stood Sherlock. Looking dishevelled and worn down by weeks of substance abuse as well as John's fists. The black eye and the stitches on his brow a dark reminder of what John had done.

He just stood there in silence, obviously at a loss for words. He didn't meet John's eyes and he was clearly unsettled about something, if his trembling hand on the doorframe was any indication.

Had he taken something? Was he about to? Did he came up here to ask for help for once?

"Sherlock?" John whispered. "You okay?" It was a stupid question, it was obvious, he was not.

Sherlock minutely shook his head.

"Right," John mumbled. Whatever Sherlock needed, he couldn't put it into words. But apparently, whatever it was, he had turned to John for help, had actually made the first step, which was a big one in John's opinion after all that had happened in the past months. John could do the rest and figure out how to go from here. Maybe the only thing Sherlock needed was company or someone to distract him from his cravings.

"Tea?" John suggested and Sherlock nodded.

--------------------

Feel free to reblog, but don't post my art on other sites/social media or use in any other way without my written permission.

[shirleycarlton]

Ball in Your Court

Brisk footsteps come up the stairs. The door to 221B opens and John steps inside, a decisive air about him.

Sherlock puts the book back on the shelf in front of him – it isn’t the one he was looking for anyway – and partly turns around to face his flatmate.

John seems to square his shoulders. Without taking off his coat, he starts speaking. “Sherlock, I’ve decided to just say it. I love you. Always have, always will. So there.” He nods, as a weight almost visibly falls off his shoulders. “The ball is in your court now. Do with this information what you will. You may either kiss me, shag me or ignore me, pretend I never said this. You can also say to my face it’s not reciprocated. At least then it’s clear.”

A beat of silence.

The smallest traces of shock, regret and shame briefly ripple across John’s face.

“John,” Sherlock says, breath catching, as he faintly raises his right hand in the direction of the kitchen. “Meet my parents.”

Wide-eyed they sit on either side of the kitchen table, clutching their cups of tea. The next instant, they’re getting up and gathering their things, all nervous smiles. “We’re just going to go for a stroll around the block. We’ll… we’ll come back later,” Sherlock’s mother says with a friendly nod, voice pitched high. “Yes, yes,” is all his father can say.

Before John can blink more than three times, they are gone.

John cringes, his shoulders sag. “Oh god. I’ve embarrassed you… in front of your parents.” He runs a hand over his face and starts turning away. “This was… a huge mistake.”

Sherlock stops John and grabs him by the shoulders with both hands. He takes a deep breath. Looking at him intently, he says, “John. You know where I got my deduction skills? From my mother.” His voice starts sounding wobbly now. “Do you know what she just said, minutes before you entered?” Sherlock swallowed. “She deduced that I was heartbroken, madly in love with my flatmate who I was convinced could never love me back. She just finished her last sentence when you opened the living room door.”

John’s mouth falls slightly open.

Sherlock whispers, “She’s never wrong.”

With many thanks to @otter-von-bismarck for the quick beta!

Also tagging some other people who might enjoy this: @totallysilvergirl @blogstandbygo @mama-orion @chained-to-the-mirror @shiplocks-of-love

I haven’t written anything in ages, so finally posting a tiny ficlet makes me disproportionally happy and proud, LOL.

[khorazir]

“I can’t believe it – even though I should. It’s bloody Christmas Eve, and we’ve been captured. Again. Locked up. Again. Sitting somewhere in the fucking cold freezing our arses off. Again.”

“Okay, yes, I concede you have a point, John. But what exactly are you complaining about?”

“Sherlock, I swear to you—”

“No, I mean it. We’re unhurt – apart from the cold, perhaps. We’re together. And do look on the bright side, John. We’re not even tied up this time. Things are definitely looking up, I’d say.”

“‘Looking up’? Seriously? Are you kidding me?”

“Well, chances are that we will be rescued in an hour or two. And until then, we can try to get comfortable. Share body heat, that kind of thing.”

“Very funny, Sherlock.”

“You know, John, I begin to suspect that you actually miss the ‘being-tied-up-part’ of what seems to have become somewhat of a Christmas tradition.”

“Shut up. And come here.”

For this month’s @sherlockchallenge : Cold

And because it’s a tradition, too, this is my 2023 Sherlock Christmas card. If you’d like to receive one (in exchange for a charitable donation), drop me a note. More information about the card and a look at the motifs (and ficlets) from previous years can be found here: