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topsyturvy-turtely · 1 year

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OTP challenge - day 17

[link to day 16]

17: washing something

"Sherlock?", the name sounded from the laundry room, formed as a question by John Watson.

Sherlock hummed, doubting his flatmate would hear him but not caring. But said man kept going anyways, "Do you have any idea where my jumper is?"

"The hideous one?"

"You find all my jumpers hideous, I mean the grey one! I need to wash it!"

Sherlock eyed his bedroom door. "No idea."

*one week later*

"Where the hell is it?", John asked, kneeling on the floor, looking under the couch. Sherlock rather enjoyed the view.

"Where's what?", Sherlock asked, while continuing to eye John's arse.

"My jumper!", with that John stood up and flapped his arms, frustrated.

"I'm sure it's somewhere, you just gotta look better."

John grunted. "Thanks for your help, Sherlock." Annoyed sarcasm was floating from his voice.

*two weeks later*

"I don't get it!", a very grumpy John Watson stomped through the flat. Almost aggressively searching for the one jumper. The jumper! The John Watson jumper! He had to find it!

Out of a sudden spur, John marched into Sherlock's room without knocking. Sherlock, who was sitting on his bed, looked at him, startled. With John's jumper in his hands.

"Is that... my jumper?", John asked surprised.

Sherlock - looking caught - stared up at John. Looked at the jumper in his hands... and at John again. "It... might?"

"I'm... confused... Did you... keep it?"

"I... might have.", Sherlock said, visibly uncomfortable.

"But, why?"

"It doesn't matter!", Sherlock said, suddenly all of the awkwardness gone. He stood up and moved as if to exit the room.

"Oh, no. You're not leaving-" John stood in front of the door. "-until you've told me why you kept my favorite jumper for over three weeks!"

"It's for-", the smallest pause, almost unnoticeable, but John did notice. "-an experiment."

"Yeah? What kinda experiment is that? Why would you need a sheep wool jumper for it? Hell, the last time I had it I spilled freaking tomatoe-sauce on it!"

"I washed it out."

"You washed what out?"

"The tomato stain, obviously, John. Do keep up. Now will you let me-", Sherlock wanted to push by John, but the doctor wasn't having it.

"The whole reason why I was looking for my jumper in the first place, was, because I needed to wash it, so-", a realization hit John. "For god's sake- did you wash it by hand?"

With two big steps he was at his jumper. The red-brown stain still faintly visible. With an incredulous look he held the jumper up towards- nothing.

Sherlock was gone.

He had fled the scene.

When John quickly walked into the living room, he faintly heard the outside door close.

With an exhausted sigh, his jumper in his hands, John sat down in his armchair. What has Sherlock's mission been? Confused, John glared at his jumper. Then he picked it up, grabbed more laundry and turned the washing machine on. He had missed this piece of clothing. A lot. Maybe... if he looked into Sherlock's room...?

***

Sherlock called a cab as soon as he was outside of the flat.

He couldn't believe he had been caught like that. John is suspecting something for sure. He didn't lie however - he actually had needed the jumper for an experiment. He wouldn't waste his thoughts on this right now, though. He was dropped off at Bart's and immediately started working on some poor guy that had already been half-eaten by chrysalises before Scotland Yard had found him. The murderer was the husband of course - it is always the husband.

Sherlock lost himself in documenting the stage of decay of the corpse and for an hour or two he almost forgot about John Watson and his jumper. Almost, never all the way.

When Sherlock returned home, he found John in his armchair calmly typing away on his laptop. A relieved sigh escaped- and immediately got stuck in his throat when he saw his journal on the coffee table next to his flatmate. It was where he had kept track of all the different smells of John, and how it had been impacted by keeping it in his room. (He would never admit he sometimes would sleep with it. Well- It was for the experiment!) The jumper was the John-est thing he could find. John wore this article of clothing the most. Therefore it was the best sample for his research.

"Why are you still standing there like you've seen a ghost? Sit down!", John asked him. Slowly, like he was approaching a wild animal, Sherlock did as he was told.

The doctor then looked up, smiled, put his laptop away, leaned forward. Sherlock gulped and considered running away again. He was not ready for the conversation that was about to be held.

"So." John started, and Sherlock eyed the door. "Don't run away I am not mad, I promise.", John saw through his flatmate immediately.

Sherlock nodded.

But when he saw, John still had that assuring, patient smile on his face, it somehow put Sherlock off. He was just considering jumping up and running away again when John spoke up, "I'm gonna make a deduction."

Sherlock opened his mouth but John continued before Sherlock could say anything.

"You love-", John began too loudly. He cleared his throat. "You love... my jumper."

Alarmed, Sherlock immediately started to find an excuse. "Look, John. The only reason I took that-"

"Actually, I think you love... me."

Sherlock was dumbfounded. "No. No, John, you're misinterpreting this. I-"

"And I...", John took a deep breath. "...love you, too." John apparently wasn't gonna let Sherlock finish one sentence.

"-never meant to make our friendship... Wait. what did you just say?"

John looked at him, eyes intense. "You love me. And I love you, too.", he said matter-of-factly. A statement - a deduction - in John-Watson-style: Not a long monologue, only the hard facts.

"Did I seduce you, Mr. Holmes?"

"I'm certain you meant 'dedu-'" an abrupt ending. "Oh.", Sherlock said.

A smirk crept on John's face. Slowly, he inched closer towards Sherlock. He was sitting on the edge of his armchair now.

"I'm gonna kiss you now, are you okay with that?"

"John, what-"

"That was a simple yes-no question. So, what is your answer? Yes or no?"

Sherlock gulped and looked at John. "Y-Yes."

"I was hoping you'd say that."

And just like that, something, Sherlock never even dared to dream of, came true.

---

hi!

i, originally, wanted to update Human Urges but i have the biggest fucking writer's block with that fic. every time i open that doc i am immediately mad because i dislike it SO MUCH and do not know how to fix it. and then i just close it, because WHAT. if any of you are reading it - i apologize for the extremely slow updates. please know i will manage eventually and i hope it will be worth the wait!

anygays. decided to finally publish this silly little thing at least. hope you like it! lmk! thanks for reading and reblogging, babes! -🐢

btw i will probably join @fluffbruary - sounds like a cool challenge. maybe i can actually pull through with it :D

tag list! (tell me if you wanna be added or removed💚) @justanobsessedpan @helloliriels @fluffbyday-smutbynight @inevitably-johnlocked @hisfavouritejumper @rhasima @forfucksakejohn @ohlooktheresabee @turbulenttrouble @7arantellgrrl @ssmeowl123 @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

#turtely writes #turtely's otp challenge #day 17 #prompt: washing something #happy about reblogs 🥰#johnlock #johnlock fic #johnlock ficlet #bbc sherlock #sherlock #john watson #sherlock holmes #sherlock x john #sherlock fic

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topsyturvy-turtely · 1 year

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OTP challenge - day 15

here it is! part 2/2! (because i simply suck at keeping myself short) -> link to part 1

[link to day 14]

TW: detailed description of needles and stitches. knife wound.

15: teaching each other how to do something

(pt. 2/2)

[Last sentence from part 1: But soon this something, that danced in the room to the tone they had played together, was interrupted by the thunder of upstairs-running kid's feet.]

***

That was last week. Tonight John had invited Sherlock over for dinner with him. Rosie had a movies night with her aunt Harry. (John seriously wasn't sure who whorshipped whom more. These two were soulmates, no joking.)

The doctor was determined to make Sherlock a nice proper meal. He didn't cook often, but he ought to get better at it, he can't keep ordering takeout with a kid at home. What if Rosie will never eat anything homemade?! That could end up into an embarrassing situation at a friend's house...

Lost in his thoughts he prepared his 'easy but fancy meal' (no, he hasn't googled this). He had ended up with Lasagna. The bechamél sauce was the difficult part about it, but he was confident it would work out. He heard the bell ring and - wiping his hands on the ridiculous apron Harry got him (it says 'BAMF' in pink, purple and blue colors on it. According to her that means 'bad ass motherfucker', which he thought was absurd, but, well, he didn't wanna get his shirt dirty) - he went to open the door for a very early Sherlock. Who has apparently just been in a massive fight.

"Bloody hell, Sherlock! What happened to you?"

"Idiot brought a knife to a gun fight. Still managed to cut me however, that imbecile."

"They cut you? How deep? Where? Let me see.", John Watson was in immediate doctor mode.

"Not that deep.", Sherlock said waving his hnd dismissively.

"Oh no! We are not doing this! Go sit down somewhere, I'll get my doctor's kit.", John commanded and went into the bathroom to wash his hands and get the kit.

When he came back, Sherlock was sitting on the couch, no coat and jacket on, limps spread out around him, right hand to his side, the blood running through his fingers.

"Jesus. Sherlock.", John was frozen for a second, anxiously staring at his friend, regretting he couldn't protect him anymore whenever he decided to run after a serial killer.

Then the feeling faded and with his usual professional tone he told Sherlock to take his shirt off. The great idiot detective sighed but obeyed. Meanwhile John put on surgical gloves and poured disinfectant onto a cotton ball. When he looked up and stared at his friend's freed stomach he gulped. Not because he hasn't seen worse, but because it was Sherlock who was the injured. What if he wouldn't get away so easily next time? John wasn't sure how he would take another one of Sherlock's funerals. A real one this time. Internally John shook himself and focused on his task.

"I'm gonna clean the wound and see if it needs stitches now.", John told his patient. When he started disinfecting, he heard Sherlock take in a sharp breath. That, and a few seconds of cleaning, made him realize, "Sorry, mate, but the wound is deep enough for sutures. I'm gonna call an amb-"

"No!", Sherlock immediately protested and his face was a mask of pain. "It's you or nothing at all."

John stared at him, he had done that often before, back in the days, but how could Sherlock still insist on John stitching him up? With a resigned sigh, because he knew there was no reason in arguing, he took off his gloves. "Alright, I'll get you some ice. It will help with the pain and the swelling."

When he came back, he sat back down and put on a fresh pair of gloves. "Listen. I hate you getting injured, and I am honored you let me have you stitch up but you will have to learn to do this yourself. I am not available 24/7 and I can't risk you passing out while having a fever dream from the blood loss, simply because you refuse to seek medical attention like a child. So you gonna watch, listen, hell- observe while I am doing this. You got me?"

Sherlock had a neutral facial expression, but stared deep into John's eyes. "Yes, sir."

"You already know who is in charge here, that's a good start.", John smirked. Then their eyes met and just how it always has been, there was a connection between the two men which took actual willpower to break. When they did, John started explaining, "Step one: sanitize and examine the wound. Deeper than half an inch? Sutures are needed.

"Step two: if the wound is swollen, ice it.", John nodded at the ice on Sherlock's stomach, while he disinfected the needle and thread.

"This will provide a numbness as well. Helpful, when there's no local anasthetics available."

"Step three, actually- step zero: wash hands, and wear gloves to prevent infection. Always wash your hands and wear gloves, hear me?", John fixed his gaze on Sherlock. The detective was determined to show no pain but he couldn't fool John. A simple nod satisfied John.

"Good. Step three: Disinfect needle and thread and the rest of the equipment. I use a needle holder, to ensure no infections will occur. Holding it with your hand may easily cause them." John was glad Sherlock had his voice to focus on. That he had given that genius brain something to fixate on, to save into a room or a file or whatever in his mind palace with every little detail. Because the stitches - even with the ice - are gonna add another pain level.

"Step four: with your forceps" - John grabbed them - "check the skin and determine what needs to be done.", John did as he was explaining, wishing he had a mask to further protect Sherlock from a possible infection.

"Step five: punctuate the skin and make sure the needle penetrates the skin up to 0.5cm, exit on the other side of the wound. The needle needs to be held perpendicular to the skin and you rotate your hands clockwise.", when the needle sank into Sherlock's skin, his patient groaned in pain. "For this you'll need to release the needle holder by pulling it right with your ring finger-", John did as he was explainig. "-and pushing it left with your thumb.

"Step six: hold the needle holder and pull the thread. Leave 3-5cm on the side of the wound. Step seven: hold the thread with your right - in your case left - hand and wrap it around the tip of the needle holder. Catch hold of the thread on the left of the wound using the needle holder. Make the wrapped thread pass out of the needle holder and tie it around the loose thread and then cut the excess thread.", John was glad Sherlock was a genius because when he had first learned this, he still had had a million questions.

Satisfied John looked at his work. "This was it - you had made a secure knot. Now, step eight: repeat this process by moving up the wound about 0.6cm to perform the next suture."

Sherlock was making pained noises while John performed step eight. "Do you think you can focus on my hands and describe what I am doing? Might be a good distraction.", the doctor suggested.

Sherlock gritted his teeth, nodded and did as he was told. Indeed, his pained sounds decreased and his observation-mode was turned on.

After a while John said, "There. Sutures are done. Now the final step is putting a sterilized pad and bandage on. Here, sit up."

Sherlock did and John wrapped the bandage around Sherlocks rib cage; tight but not too tight. His breath gave Sherlock's skin, that had broken out into a sweat during the suturing process, goosebumps. John followed them up... over side, arm, chest, nipple. John licked his lips. Then he cleared his throat and stood up. "I'll look for a shirt that will fit you. You hardly can wear that one over there." John pointed at the ripped and blood covered dressing shirt on the ground.

"Your clothing choice is a rather interesting one, too.", Sherlock countered, a hint of a raised eyebrow visible on his carefully controlled face.

For a second John was confused, but when he looked down at himself he remembered his 'BAMF' apron... John's eyes widened.

"Fucking hell!", he swore. John ran into a kitchen and already saw smoke coming through the oven. "THE LASAGNA!"

A bunch of further curses escaped John's mouth while he took the burnt piece of pasta out. Sherlock followed him into the kitchen. He leaned on the door frame crossing his arms over his bare chest. "Apparently bisexual Badass Motherfuckers can't cook.", he stated.

Waving around with a kitchen towel and opening a window to get rid of the smoke, John was busy with other things. But when Sherlock's words sank in he slowly turned around. "I'm sorry- what?", he asked incredulously.

Sherlock nodded at John's garment. "Your apron. It's in the bisexual pride colors."

With oven mittens on, palms up, John stared down at his apron. "Oh. Oh, Harry that absolute-"

"-genius lesbian with her evidently accurate observations regarding sexuality?", Sherlock finished, pushing himself off the wall. He slowly walked over to John.

"Hold on one second! How many times did i say I am not-"

"-Gay? No, but bisexual you are, my dear Watson.", with that Shelock stood in front of him, his upper body only wearing a bandage John had put on him only a moment ago.

The blogger shook his hands in denial. "I- I am not..."

But he didn't get further because Sherlock pressed his lips against his and John forgot what he wanted to say. Soft, cupid bowed lips, rested against chapped, thin lips. Until John pulled back and stared at a rather precarious Sherlock. And without another thought he ripped his oven mittens off and clasped his hands around this face, this familiar beautiful face and kissed Sherlock again. He was moving on pure instinct, none of this was his brain's doing, it was all his body's. It knew what it had wanted for years and now wouldn't let the opportunity slip. They kissed and gasped and pulled and moaned. Until Sherlock hissed in pain, because John had eagerly pulled him close and it hurt his freshly sutured wound.

John loosened his grip and they let air drift between their bodies again. "I- you-", John tried.

"Harry and I might have a point?", Sherlock said with cocky grin.

John sighed, laughed, and let his forehead drop into his hand. "Yeah. I suppose you might."

They caught their eyes and then started giggling, like they did after their first case.

Sherlock's gaze fell on the burnt lasagna behind John. "Takeout?"

"Starving", John replied with a soft but genuine smile on his face.

---

this time i have to thank my lovely friend (lol are we even friends?!) @safedistancefrombeingsmart for 1. telling me that John can't cook and should teach Sherlock how to make proper stitches instead. And 2. for her genius photoshopoed bi-colored BAMF sweatshirt. This oneshot would have been a lot less fun without you. Thank you, smartin'! ;)

this part required a lot of research (as i am an absolute no-hoper at anything medical). i must admit i partly directly quoted from the site. check it out if you're interested!

tag list! (tell me if you wanna be added or removed 💚) @catlock-holmes @justanobsessedpan @helloliriels @boredsushi @fluffbyday-smutbynight @inevitably-johnlocked @hisfavouritejumper @rhasima @forfucksakejohn @ohlooktheresabee @turbulenttrouble @7arantellgrrl @ssmeowl123 @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

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topsyturvy-turtely · 1 year

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OTP challenge - day 15

there are two parts because I couldn't didn't want to shorten it for the life of me.

I wanna apologize for not updating regularly - never mind daily. i hope you can forgive my non-existent organization talent! thank you to everyone who is still in on this challenge!

[link to day 14]

15. teaching each other how to do something

(pt. 1/2)

Five year old Rosie stopped playing the violin with a loud dramatic note. "Well done, Watson. Keep practicing and it will be perfect." Sherlock praised his little apprentice.

John scoffed which turned his daughter's and best friend's head around. "Whatever do you you wanna say, John?"

"Just that Rosie already sounds perfect to me."

"Oh, she is. However let's not feed her ego too much.", Sherlock countered and winked at Rosie who grinned up at him.

"Yeah, she is already better at everything I am, aren't you, honey?"

There was a proud twinkle in Rosie's dark blue eyes when she giggled at that.

"Well", John stood up from the armchair that used to be his. "Thank you for the lesson, Sherlock. Are you sure you don't want-"

"I will not accept any payment from my favorite student." Sherlock immediately interrupted.

John made an amused noise. "Yeah, alright. It- it was good to see you, Sherlock." Their relationship ever after the Culverton case has been fragile, they never quite went back to what it used to be but... each man took what he could get.

"Good to see you too, John", Sherlock said softly. "Watson", he added, making the littlest bow towards Rosie. John adored how Sherlock treated his goddaughter. It made the doctor feel soft inside and sometimes this softness creeped through his walls to show through a smile. Like right now. Then he caught himself and clapped his hand against his thigh - a sign to say goodbye.

"Say thank you, Rosie, so we can head home."

Rosie finished putting away her tiny violin, then stretched her arms out, so Sherlock would pick her up. The detective did so, and then let her kiss his nose. "Thanks, Sherlock. Love you."

"Love you, too, Watson.", he said and kissed her temple.

At that moment, Mrs. Hudson walked into the room with a tablet of freshly baked biscuits. (Sherlock doubted it was anything but very calculated timing. She missed John terribly and adored Watson horrendously.) "Hoohoo, darlings! Buiscuits and tea anyone?"

"Mrs. Hudson!", John exclaimed pleasantly surprised (he had of course not seen through the landlady right away like Sherlock). "It's so good to see you!"

"Oh John, you should visit more often! Baker Street misses you.", she shot a meaningful glance at Sherlock, who pretended to busily clean his violin bow.

"And my sweet little Flower, how have you been?"

"Good! I love my violin sessions.", Rosie said enthusiastically.

"I can imagine, it sounds lovely from downstairs. Ooh! But I gotta go! The next round of biscuits is in the oven still!"

"May I come?", Rosie asked excitedly.

"Of course, dear.", Mrs. Hudson immediately agreed (no doubt this was her plan all along).

"Dada, may I?", Rosie asked her father.

"Yeah alright, I'll be right down."

"No hurry!", the two girls said in unision, on their way out.

John laughed after them, "Yeah, I see how it is."

Sherlock smiled, "Hudders adores little Watson."

"Everyone adores that kid.", John replied, shaking his head affectionately.

"Yes, indeed.", agrees Sherlock. He still had that soft smile on his face. Back in the days John liked to think it was only for him. These days, Rosie Watson was on the receiving end of it most of the time. John was glad at least one Watson had that honor.

"You're a fantastic teacher, Sherlock. Rosie... she really loves you.", John wasn't sure why he felt so awkward. They used to flow, now they are stuck in unspoken words and unspeakable emotions.

"It's my pleasure. She - both of you - mean a lot to me."

John softly carressed Rosie's violin case. "Do you know why I wanted her to learn to play the violin?"

Sherlock didn't say anything, but his interest was piqued, John didn't have to see him to know that - he felt it.

"It reminds me of you.", John said quietly and now he did look up at Sherlock. He hoped Sherlock knew what he actually meant: John missed him. How they used to be together.

For a long few seconds Sherlock looked at him. As so often, John could not look away. He didn't want to anyways. Then Sherlock breathed in sharply, turned around and grabbed his violin. John immediately fought an eye-roll. Of course they wouldn't be able to talk, how had he ever thought they-

But Sherlock held the violin out for John to take. "Sherlock, what do-"

"Take it."

Bemused John looked back and forth from the instrument to the man. "Are you sure- ", he started.

"I want you to try. Take it.", Sherlock insisted.

Hesitantly, carefully, John took the instrument. It felt fragile, but it was heavier than John had expected it to be.

"Put it under your chin. Like-"the gentlest touch redirected John's chin. Cold fingers. "-this."

"Hold the bow like-" Again, cold fingers on him, gently, just a whisper of a touch. "There you go."

Sherlock's mouth was close to John's ear. His voice velvet and deep. It crept inside of John, making the fine hair at his neck stand on ends.

"Now play for me.", Sherlock whispered. John surpressed a shiver. He was pretty sure, this shouldn't sound this alluring.

He didn't try to push his finger on a string. He simply let the bow glide and he produced an actual passable sound from a violin.

"Good, that was an A. Now try-", but John forgot to listen when Sherlock stepped behind him, feeling his fingers placing his index on the string, feeling his hand wrap around his bow hand, feeling Sherlock's chest against his back. John is pretty sure he forgot to breathe.

Sherlock was simply too close. He registered the man saying something, but he didn't know what. He tried hard to force the fog away. Instead he felt Sherlock leading his hand over the string, it was so darn cold against his own sweaty hand. A tone played and it was all so surreal: Sherlock teaching him to play the violin, Sherlock against his body, Sherlock whispering in his ear, Sherlock's cold fingers against his own warm ones. The tone sounded on and on and it sounded like the beginning of something. Like the beginning of something magical. Like the beginning of them.

But soon this something, that danced in the room to the tone they had played together, was interrupted by the thunder of upstairs-running kid's feet.

[to be continued in part 2!]

---

Special thanks to @totallysilvergirl whose series "Drawn to Stars" but especially "Teach Your Children Well" has subconsciously inspired me to write this incredibly talented and loving Rosamund Watson. I didn't realize until later, that it was very much inspired by you. Check this series out if you haven't yet! I love it so much!

tag list! (please tell me if you wanna be added or removed! 💚) @catlock-holmes @justanobsessedpan @helloliriels @boredsushi @fluffbyday-smutbynight @inevitably-johnlocked @hisfavouritejumper @rhasima @forfucksakejohn @ohlooktheresabee @turbulenttrouble @7arantellgrrl @ssmeowl123 @so-youre-unattached-like-me @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

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topsyturvy-turtely · 1 year

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OTP challenge - day 14

IT IS BACK YOU GUYS!!! I am bringing it back! ✨turtely's otp challenge✨

please someone tell me they are excited- i need that, lol.

I had the BIGGEST writer's block ever: didn't come up with an idea for mOnThs and when I finally did have one I was like "idk how to wriiiiite that" but today I was like *slams table* yk what?! Fuck that! I am bringing it back! Soooo yeah. Here we go? please lmk what you think!

Btw it is a bit (a lot) different then my other stories sooo bear with me yeah?

[Link to day 13]

14. Geeking out over something

Blue vs. red. Grunts vs. robotic breathing. Good vs. bad. Two lighsabers meet, trying to push the other away. Two male counterparts, fighting for what they think is the right way, which looks decidedly different from each view.

Suddenly - the taller, darker haired, with the black mask - strikes and-

"AAAAAAHHH", the shorter, blonder, with perspiration in his shaggy hair - cries in agony. His hand has been separated from his arm. (Or was he just hiding it in is sleeve?) The boy steps back, covering his injured arm under the healthy one. His weapon is lost. The dark guy steps closer and the blond is trapped on a small part of the treehouse platform.

The other boy man speaks up, "There is no escape. Don’t make me destroy you. You do not yet realize your importance. You have only begun to discover your power. Join me and I will complete your training. With our combined strength, we can end this destructive conflict and bring order to the galaxy."

But the blond boy - even with no escape in sight, even being greatly injured - refuses. Brave soldier until the bitter end, he counters, "I’ll never join you!"

But the masked one does not give up, "If you only knew the power of the dark side. Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father."

Desperately holding onto the tree branch the metal construct the blond boy speaks through gritted teath, "He told me enough! It was you who killed him." Perhaps you would see a sad smile behind the mask as his friend enemy speaks. "No. I am your father."

Shocked, the blond stares at his counterpart. Refusing to believe even one word, he yells, "No. No. That’s not true! That’s impossible!"

The taller argues in his deep voice, "Search your feelings. You know it to be true."

But the smaller won't believe. "No! No! No!"

 "Luke. You can destroy the Emperor. He has foreseen this. It is your destiny. Join me, and together we can rule the galaxy as father and son. Come with me. It is the only way." He puts away his sword, and offers his hand to the shorter boy man.

The injured breathes deeply, indescribable but pronounced tranquility waving over him. He looks over the edge, looks back at the masked man and-

He jumps off, landing safely in a trampoline underneath, falling into the endlessness of the galaxy.

The taller boy rips his mask off and reveals messy dark curls. With one jump he follows the blond boy and lands next to him on the trampoline. The shorter boy giggles and turns around on his belly. His face prepped on his palm, blue eyes sparkling as he looks at his friend. The dark haired boy grins widely and lays onto his back, with one arm under his head. "Nice acting there, Martin"

The blond laughs, "Yours was pretty good too, Ben"

Ben, the taller, dark-haired boy, grabs his own hand and imitates the shout of pain from the act, that appeared minutes before, "AAAAAHHHH!"

The blond - Martin - playfully nudges Ben's shoulder with his hand. "Oh, shut up!"

The dark haired boy smiles at him. Then his face turns serious, "Join me when I go to acting school, after high school."

"We could be Holmes and Watson", Martin grins.

Ben grabs Martin's hand, "Whatever happens you'll forever be the Holmes to my Watson."

But as soon as he says that, Martin has to visibly fight a laugh back.

"What? What is it?"

"It's just-", now Martin can't help laughing. "Have you looked at yourself?! You definitely got the looks for a genius. You- with your cheekbones..."

"My cheekbones?!"

"Yeah! And the dark hair and all that." Martin waves generally at Ben's face. "Gotta be you."

Ben considers that. Then he shrugs. "Alright. As long as it is us."

"Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.", Martin says with a gentle smile, squeezing Ben's hand.

"John Watson and Sherlock Holmes.", Ben replies.

"Yeah, could work." Martin grins.

"BBC is gonna love us." Ben says, a dreamy expression on his face.

"Everyone is gonna love us." Martin says, shrugging, completely unaware how true these words will be.

~The story about how Freebatch turned into Johnlock because of Star Wars.

---

(tags and info under the cut)

sooo yeah I guess that was a multi crossover? Ever looked for a "young Freebatch geeking out over Star Wars and then talking about becoming Johnlock"-fanfic? Well there you go! xDD This was my first freebatch fic ever (I don't usually write or read that because I think the actors deserve some privacy...) and probably my last so don't hate please :P

The dialogue (the one written in italics) is taken from the Star Wars, The Empire Strikes Back movie. Check out my Source.

All I've got left to say is: Thank you for sticking with me and reading, my lovely turtles!

tag list! (please tell me if you wanna be added/removed or if i forgot you!) @justanobsessedpan @helloliriels @boredsushi @fluffbyday-smutbynight @inevitably-johnlocked @hisfavouritejumper @rhasima @forfucksakejohn @ohlooktheresabee @turbulenttrouble @7arantellgrrl @ssmeowl123 @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

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topsyturvy-turtely · 2 years

Text

OTP challenge - Day 10

[previously called June challenge! Find day 9 here]

10: Watching the other sleep

The story of how Sherlock and I got together is a funny one. And it is strange. You wouldn’t guess it if you tried. So I will tell you what happened.

It was a hot summer night when I awoke. Loud honking and screams were heard from the street. I was sleeping lightly anyhow and my curiousness was on alert immediately. I peaked out the window – to see some maniac wandering around on the streets. Only wearing a sheet. It took me a moment to realize that maniac was my flat mate. “Shit, Sherlock- what the-“ I quickly put on my pajama that I have taken off earlier, because it was simply too warm, to see what had gotten into him and rushed downstairs. I burst through our front door: “Sherlock! What the heck are you-“

The man turned around his eyes big and a bit crazy. “Oh, John! Lovely to see you join me! Isn’t it a beautiful day to solve crimes?”, he said, spread his arms and almost dropped the sheet. Then he frowned: “Why are you wearing pajamas at a crime scene, John?”

That’s when it hit me. The crazy eyes, the disorientation about time, not realizing he was in the middle of the street – Sherlock was sleep-walking! Oh dear lord… I had to deal with a few sleepwalkers in the army – the constant danger made you restless – and knew the easiest way to get them back to bed is to just tell them, maybe leading them there.

So I said: “Because it’s the middle of the night, Sherlock. Go back to bed, come!”, I put a hand on his sheet-covered back and led him to the front steps. I waved apologetically at the cars that have stopped.

Sherlock frowned: “But- the case?”

“You can solve it tomorrow. Come now.”, when we were inside I gently pushed him up the steps and warned him of the last one – just in case.

“Tomorrow?”, Sherlock’s confusion was almost adorable.

“Just a few hours, alright?”

Sherlock nodded, while slowly walking into the living room. “Just a few hours.”, he repeated. I nodded, even though Sherlock was not looking at me anymore. I already thought of locking him in his bedroom and taking the key with me when Sherlock asked: “Aren’t you gonna come to bed?”

What did he mean ‘come’? “Why, yes of course, I will head upstairs in just a minute, when I know you are safely in yours.”

Again sleeping Sherlock frowned: “But John… Did I upset you? Why won’t you come sleep in our bed?”

“Our-“, what the hell did this sleeping version of Sherlock imply? “I have my own bedroom, upstairs, Sherlock…”, I said hesitantly.

The frown increased. “No, you don’t. Mrs. Hudson asked if we needed two bedrooms when you moved in and you declined. We share the-“, Sherlock suddenly stumbled back a bit. “You are my boyfriend, John. Did you FORGET we are together?” My flat mate seemed seriously taken back by this. It was eery though, because his eyes looked right through me. He was seeing different things than I was at the moment. My main concern was to bring him to bed safely so I decided jumping into this funny parallel-universe created by my sleeping flat mate was the best way to do just that.

“Ah, of course not, darling. You really gotta got to bed now though. Huh?”

Sherlock crossed his arms. “Only if you will come to bed with me.”

I took in a sharp breath. “Jesus- fine. Alright, I will. Go ahead. I will be right there.”

When Sherlock walked back – only wearing his sheet – shit, was he only wearing a sheet?!

“Sherlock, please tell me you are wearing underpants.”

Sherlock stopped in the door frame to his bedroom. “Of course not.”, he answered, sounding irritated.

“I- Can you put some on, please?”, I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. Sleeping with my platonic flat mate in one bed is one thing; sleeping with my platonic flat mate in one bed without him wearing anything, is a completly different thing.

“Why, John?”, he sounded so irritated. And… hurt?

Fine. It was just a dream, right? At least for Sherlock. I just wanted him to go back to bed so I said – and I still can’t believe I did – the following: “You know how much I like to take them off, Sherlock.”

I couldn’t see his face but I heard the smirk in his voice when he said: “Yeah, you do.”

Still embarrassed by this encounter I finally did slip into his bed. He immediately wrapped an arm around my waist and laid his head on my chest. His breathing soothed into a calm one right away. I felt guilty of how much I liked laying like this.

For most of the rest of the night I laid awake, wondering if I had done the right thing. Have I not secretly taken advantage of the situation? Did I not move on my behalf of own crush on my flat mate? For sure I could have said something to make him go to bed by his own, couldn’t I? Several times I tried to free myself and go upstairs, but it seemed undoable. Sherlock held on to me very tightly when I tried to get up. The last thing I thought, before I finally allowed myself to fall asleep was ‘At least he’s not getting hit by a car.’ I slept surprisingly well after that.

The next morning I woke up from someone hugging my upper body tightly: “Jaawwn”, a rough baritone voice said. Then said baritone voice sat up quickly – completely awake now. “John, why are you in my bed?”, Sherlock asked, sounding alert.

I, too, propped myself up on my elbows: “Sherlock, do you remember anything of last night?”

The detective frowned: “I was thinking about the case. Then I went to bed, as it was utterly frustrating to not be able to solve it. I dreamed-“ Sherlock’s eyes grew big. Then he quickly gathered his bedsheets to his chest, as if that could protect him. A second later he dropped them and pinched the bridge of his nose: “I sleep-walked, didn’t I?”

I couldn’t help but smile: “Yeah.”

“I convinced you coming to bed with me?”

I nodded, a grin involuntarily spreading on my face.

“And- and you… did? Come to bed with me?”

“Brilliant deduction, Mr. Holmes.”, I said cheekily.

Quickly he shot a look at me, then he looked away, that frown growing bigger and bigger. “Alright, John, in case I-“

I wanted to know how far this went - maybe Sherlock actually did have feelings for me – and grabbed his hand. He stared at it in wonder. “It’s fine by the way.”, I said, while gently squeezing the bigger hand in mine. “It’s all fine.”, I smiled at him in – what I hoped – adoration.

“Is it?”, he asked insecurely.

“Course. Of course it is. I’ll be your protective boyfriend whenever you need me to.”, I announced, winked, and got up.

Only to have a full on gay crisis in the kitchen. While making breakfast. Why the hell did I just say that to him? Sleep deprivation. That was a good excuse. But would he buy it? Oh. My. GOD.

When he finally emerged from the bedroom – fully dressed in purple shirt and tight black trouser – my breath caught a bit. Then I scooped the egg for him onto a plate and sat opposite of him. We – well actually just me – ate in silence, until – suddenly – Sherlock blurted out: “In fact, I would like you to be my protective boyfriend all the time.”

I smiled at my (very well cooked) eggs: “I would like that too, Sherlock” and stretched my foot out to reach his.

We sat like that, feet touching, silently grinning, until we finished breakfast.

---

hey my darling-turtles! i am finally back and here is a sweet fluffy oneshot for ya! i hope you enjoyed it! feedback as always is welcome! tell me mistakes/flaws etc. btw i passed that stupid exam and am totally over that cute person from the pride parade *actually isn't*... anygays... hope you are doing well? *throws badly cut out paper hearts at you*

tag list ✨ (tell me if you want to be added/removed) @catlock-holmes @helloliriels @justanobsessedpan @boredsushi @fluffbyday-smutbynight @inevitably-johnlocked @hisfavouritejumper @rhasima @forfucksakejohn @ohlooktheresabee (i hope it is better to read now with the capital letters that i am usually too lazy for... <3) @turbulenttrouble @7arantellgrrl @ssmeowl123 @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 @toobluebrunette thanks for reading turtles! 💚

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topsyturvy-turtely · 2 years

Text

turtely's OTP challenge masterpost

ficlets/oneshots based on prompts from THIS list from pinterest

getting lost somewhere

pet names

patching each other up

hospital visits

scar worship

making fun of one another

a death of someone close

sleeping in

hugging

watching the other sleep

drawing each other

having a lazy day

in a fairytale

geeking out over something

teaching each other how to do something pt. 1 & pt. 2

needing each other

washing something

[to be continued]

will be uploaded to ao3 as well!

#turtely's otp challenge #turtely's masterposts #johnlock #bbc sherlock #sherlock #john watson #sherlock holmes #sherlock x john

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topsyturvy-turtely · 2 years

Text

OTP challenge - day 12

[link to day 11]

12: having a lazy day

John had to hold back to not hop out of his class. Finally summer break! He still had to write a paper and he would only get results on the last exams in the next two weeks but for now he didn’t care. He was gonna do exactly… nothing for the rest of the day. A grin spread across his face as he thought that. Well, he would probably listen to music, read a book or watch a movie at night but... nothing that involves brainwork! He couldn’t believe he was done with his first year of his doctorate. He had done it! The first year was always hard and he knew that before, but this hard?! University made the first years most challenging so they could pick out the toughest students. John Watson was proud to say that he was ONE of those.

With a smile dancing on his lips he walked out the university building. He had originally planned to head back to his tiny apartment right away, but now that he was outside, the campus seemed surprisingly inviting. He decided to stay here for a while. He found himself a tree to sit down underneath. Then he pulled out his headphones and put his favorite rock playlist on. With a content feeling starting to spread inside of him he laid down on his backpack. This day was gonna be great!

'Sweet child o’mine' by Guns n’ Roses had just started playing when somebody suddenly stood in front of him, blocking the sun.

“…tson, right?”, he heard somebody asking. Reluctantly and a bit annoyed John took off his headphones. “Sorry?”

“You’re John Watson, right?”, a boy asked him. John didn’t see any of him, since he was standing against the sun. He only saw his silhouette: tall, slim, locks. The sun gave him something like a halo.

“Uh, yeah? Why are you asking..?”

“You left your notebook in room 404.”, the young man held it out to him. Hesitantly John stood up and took it.

“How did you know it’s mine? And how do you know me?”, John asked. His name (stupidly) wasn’t written on the notebook and- hell, he’d remember that face for sure.

The young man spluttered but looked to the side: “Come on, every body knows that new rugby player who, for once, doesn’t fucking suck.”

John frowned. “They do?”

The young man just shrugged, still avoiding eye contact.

“And how did you know this was mine?”, John held up the notebook.

The other man finally looked at him with a hint of a smile. “I deduced it.”, he simply said, then he turned around to walk away.

It took John a moment to recover. That guy’s face was- fuck. Those eyes and that almost-smile? My lazy day is gonna involve him, John thought and turned around towards the direction where the boy has disappeared.

“Wait!”, he yelled, waving his notebook in the air and started running - forgetting his backpack, phone and headphones on the ground.

He caught up to the guy. He needed a second to catch his breath (which was not only because of the running) and finally looked into the guy’s eyes.

John scratched the back of his neck. “Do you wanna- would you like to have a lazy day with me?”

The guy just stared down at him. Then John almost facepalmed ‘have a lazy day with him’??? What the actual fuck?!

“You know, this semester was really stressful and I planned on just having the laziest day in the history of lazy days, because I didn’t have a lazy day since what? Three? Four? Months? And I would still like to have a lazy day… but maybe with you? Not that it would be boring. With you I mean. Boring doesn’t equal lazy. Oh my god, how often did I just say lazy? Quite often I think. Too often probably. Am I talking too much? I am talking too much. My god, I am so sorry…”

The boy finally opened his mouth, then he looked away while clearing his throat. Finally he opened his mouth: “I… don’t really do lazy days.”

“Oh.”, John said. He doesn’t wanna hang out with you, Watson. You’re being a mess and obvious and now he doesn’t wanna hang out with you. Well done. “Then… I guess… never mind. I’ll just- you know- okay have a lazy day! Good day! Good day, I mean. Damnit.” John turned around and tried to flee from this very awkward situation.

“But I- wait! John!”, the man had grabbed John’s arm. “I- spending the day with you sounds great.”, he said.

“Oh- really? Are you sure? You don’t have to if you don’t wanna. Obviously. No pressure, of course-“

The young man chuckled softly. John immediately stopped talking. “Why are you laughing?”

“I just thought-”, the mysterious man walked backwards towards John’s stuff, facing him. “-John H. Watson, doctor to be and future rugby-captain, wouldn’t be that flustered by asking a boy out.”

“I didn’t- I didn’t ask you out! I just wanted to spend a lazy day with you!”

“Uh-huh. Sounds like a very bisexual thing to say to me.”, the young man smirked, and turned around walking just a step in front of John.

“Woah… I am not- What do you mean by- Jesus Christ! How could you POSSIBLY know that!”

“I deduced it.”, the man said, looked back and John saw that this (decisively too good-looking) smirk has never left those (decisively too inviting) lips.

“What does that even mean? And can you not spread out all my secrets while I don’t even know your freaking name, please?!”

“The name is Sherlock Holmes. Do catch up, hm? I know a good Italian place where we could-”

“Sherlock Hol- yeah, hold on one second.”, John stopped walking and pulled Sherlock back by his hand. “It’s my lazy day. You are just bonus material. I’m gonna decide where we are going.”

Sherlock raised his eyebrows. “Did you just call me bonus material?”

“Yes, I did.”

Sherlock playfully gasped: “How dare you.”

John smirked. “I am a sass king. I kinda do things like that.”, now it was his turn to turn around and walk off.

Sherlock snorted: “Yeah, unless you’re asking boys out.”, he called out.

“Shut up and come already, will you?”, John replied.

Sherlock caught up with John, then they walked off the university campus to spend a lazy day together. And it was gonna be the best lazy day in the history of lazy days, John thought.

---

does this suck as much as I think it does? ohmyturtle... (i'll maaybe write their actual lazy day another time. but i wanted to get this out there...)

Tagging poeple yyaaayyy (tell me if you wanna be added or removed) @helloliriels @justanobsessedpan @boredsushi @fluffbyday-smutbynight @inevitably-johnlocked @hisfavouritejumper @rhasima @forfucksakejohn @ohlooktheresabee @turbulenttrouble @7arantellgrrl @ssmeowl123 @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 @toobluebrunette

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