#2025 easter egg prompts

[lisbeth-kk]

Easter Egg Prompts (2025) Day 8

This is the last one, lovelies. Time flies when one's having fun, right? Thanks again to the sweet @helloliriels for making the prompts. It's been a joy sharing this story with you all.

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Rosie is acting like the teenager she's become, which rattles Sherlock to the core.

Marshmallows

Sherlock is not prepared when his darling girl turns into a stranger overnight. Luckily for them all, John takes it all in his stride. He has after all grown up with a sister, not to mention invaded Afghanistan. Disassembling Moriarty’s network is like a bumpy ride in comparison.

“Why do you have to be so strict? Everyone else is allowed!” Rosie roars at her Daddy.

“Names, please,” John replies calmly.

“You just want me to live with you forever, never letting me unfold my wings,” she yells dramatically.

Sherlock is quite impressed by her drama queen appearance, but he can't shake the unease of witnessing the two people he loves most in the world having a dispute of this proportion.

“Of course, we don’t. It’s not healthy for a child to live with their parents when they’ve grown up. I’m afraid our rule still applies; you are not allowed to attend an all-night disco. You are barely fifteen.”

“You’re a coward!”

Before John gets in a word, Sherlock rises from his chair, filled with a terrifying fury.

“Do not speak to your father like that, Rosamund Watson-Holmes!”

His tone is as cold as an arctic wind. A tone he’s never used on either his daughter or husband. Not even on Mycroft. Well, perhaps on one or two occasions…

For a moment Rosie blushes and looks utterly devastated, but soon enough, she turns on her heel and stomps up to her room, slamming the door for emphasis.

Sherlock’s knees give way, and he falls back into his chair. John rubs his face, and sighs.

“What is happening to her, John?” Sherlock whispers.

“She’s a teenager, Sherlock. It’s nothing out of the ordinary. She’s testing our boundaries, and trying to find her place in the world, and desperately wanting her independence.”

“But she’s become a…monster! How can she say those things about you?”

“I’ve had far worse, and I’m pretty sure she’s already regretting saying them, but she’s too stubborn to admit it. Yet.”

“How can you be so calm? We are losing her!”

Sherlock’s voice is on the verge of panic.

“Look at me, love,” John says softly, crouching down in front of Sherlock’s chair. “We are notlosing her.”

Running feet down the stairs, all the stairs, and then the slamming of the front door, doesn’t exactly support John’s reassurance. He groans, Sherlock leaps to his feet, determined to follow his girl, but John stops him.

“Here.”

John shows Sherlock his phone. A text from Harry lights up the screen.

Having a domestic, John? Ro is on her way over. Just wanted you to know. We’re free to take her this weekend if it’s alright with you and Sherlock. I think you all need some space, and she needs some female advice. We’ll keep you informed.

Sherlock collapses in John’s arms, his body trembles, and he feels like he’s run around for hours. The sudden fatigue is unnerving.

John guides him to the sofa and lets him curl up in his lap.

“She’ll be alright, love. At least we avoided the disco. There’s no way my sister and Clara will let her out of their sight.”

A vibration from Sherlock’s phone seconds later, discloses that the surveillance works impeccably.

What is wrong? Where is she going? Have you thrown her out? Do you acquire assistance? Answer immediately! MH

John chuckles while Sherlock sends his brother a reassuring text.

***

“So, what’s got your knickers in a twist?” Harry asks when she’s welcomed her niece with a warm hug.

“Who, more like,” the teenage girl mutters.

Harry laughs heartily, soon joined by Clara, who embraces Rosie and holds her for a long time. When the girl starts to cry, Harry steps in an makes it into a group hug.

“Tell us, love,” she coaxes. 

“It was Papa,” Rosie whispers. “I’ve never seen him like that. Ever.”

Harry looks at her with a frown.

“Sherlock? Are we talking about the softest father I’ve ever met? I thought it’d be my brother who – “

“Oh, he did his too, you know, stayed calm and captain-like. But then…”

“Out with it,” Harry demands, not unlike the forementioned captain behaviour of her brother.

“I called him a coward.”

Rosie’s voice cracks at the last word and she hides her face in the crook of Clara’s neck.

“Uh-oh,” Harry murmurs. “Calling John that in front of Sherlock. Courageous of you.”

“He was…I…if he ever looks at me like that again…”

Rosie starts to cry in earnest now and clings to them both. They say nothing, because there’s really no words that will suffice. Everyone knows that Sherlock was in his full right to react like he did.

***

Before she goes to make them hot cocoa, Harry sends her brother a text.

Ro is fine. Well, almost. Broken-hearted. Regrets what she called you. Is terrified of your detective. We don’t blame him. The nerve of that girl, calling my brother a coward! Will keep you posted. Take care of him. I reckon he’s beside himself.

Thanks, Harry! You’re a lifesaver, and quite right about Sherlock. Tell Rosie to text him when she feels up for it, will you.

I might have to frame this text. Are you going soft on me, old man? Making cocoa now. Speak later.

“Do you want whipped cream or marshmallows in your cocoa, Ro?” Harry asks.

The girl has calmed down, but she looks a right mess with red rimmed eyes and a puffy face.

“Marshmallows, please. I’ll just go to clean myself up a bit first.”

When she returns to the kitchen, the rich scent of hot milk and dark chocolate welcome her like a warm hug. Clara hands her a large mug topped with multi-coloured marshmallows.

“Nothing like hot cocoa to mend broken hearts,” she says matter-of-factly.

They seat themselves around the circular kitchen table. Rosie braces herself for heaps of questions but to her surprise, gets none.

“In your own time,” Harry says softly and takes a sip of her brew.

The synthetic taste of the soft sweets paired with the rich cocoa, feel calming on the teenager’s frayed nerves. She closes her eyes and wallows in it for a few moments. 

“I’ve been an idiot,” she says before opening her eyes. “They just want to protect me. I didn’t really want to go to that stupid disco, but…”

She opens her eyes and sets down her mug and runs her fingers through her hair in a sherlockian way.

“Brian and his mates made a bet. Said that I’d never get permission to go. Told me my parents are overprotective, wanting to lock me up inside 221B until I’m thirty.”

A chuckle from Harry, quite reminiscent of John’s, coaxes a smile from Rosie.

“Alright, I know it was stupid, okay! I wanted to prove to myself that I could stand up to Captain John Hamish Watson and the world’s only consulting detective. Dunno what I was thinking.“

“Believe me, love, I’ve been at the receiving end of my brother’s calm and infuriating reasoning all my life. That said, I think Sherlock’s reaction scared you more than a hissy fit from my brother could ever do, am I right?”

“Yes,” Rosie admitted with a whisper. “You should have seen him, Harry. It was like witnessing a blizzard in the Arctic. His eyes were icy blue, and almost stung me. He hates me, doesn’t he?”

“Oh, darling,” Clara murmurs. “Sherlock Holmes will never stop loving you. You are the light of his life together with John. According to the text your father sent his sister earlier, your Papa is a mess. Send him a text later to ease his mind, yeah?”

This sends the girl into another heart-breaking crying spell, and it takes another cup of cocoa to calm her down.

When she’s drained her cup and grabbed a handful of marshmallows to chew on, Rosie picks up her phone and composes a text to Sherlock and then one to John.

Hi. I’m sorry I called Daddy a coward. I didn’t mean it, and it isn’t true. Your reaction was sound. You are scary when you’re defending him, you know. Forgive me? xx

Hi. You’re not a coward, Daddy. My outburst was totally uncalled for. I’m sorry. You’re the bravest man I know. Thanks for letting me stay with H & C. xx

***

They’re both a bit blurry-eyed after they’ve read their respective texts, though John is not as easily induced as his husband. 

Sherlock types out his reply first; he is after all able to compose a text with his hands behind his back.

My darling girl. Of course, I forgive you. I am sorry if I scared you; I scared myself even more. Never doubt how much I adore you. Papa.

We will have a talk about this later. Love you.

Sherlock has his chin on John’s shoulder and frowns at the rather clipped tone in the text.

“That’s a little harsh,” he remarks.

John hums in agreement. All of him radiates frustration and rigidness.

“I’ve earned the nickname Stubborn Until Death for a reason,” he huffs.

“Good lord. How many nicknames do you have? I thought the continents name was more than sufficient.”

This loosens something in John, and he wraps his arms around his husband.

“One would think so, yeah,” he agrees. “It’s not pertinent anymore, though.”

“I hope not,” Sherlock replies dryly.

“I’m only devoted to one lover these days. If you’re amenable, I can show you just howdevoted I am to my chosen one.”

John’s voice is husky and full of promise, leaving Sherlock breathless, and he willingly agrees to his husband’s suggestion.

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@totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @helloliriels

@meetinginsamarra @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitch-adler @topsyturvy-turtely @jolieblack

@221beloved @ninasnakie @shy-bi-letsfuckingdie @7-percent @lhrinchelsea

@peanitbear @bs2sjh @brandiwein1982 @johnlock-and-tea @a-victorian-girl

@missdeliadilisblog @salmonsown @oetkb12 @jawnscoffee @gay-ass-bitch

@acumberlockedgirl @willamholmeswatson @whatnext2020 @mydogwatson @redmondcollege

@thegildedbee @ilovegayangels @elizabethhood @xmengal03 @riversong912

@givemesherbet-blog-blog @couldbecannibal @2old2b-fangirl @dw91165 @jonkwatson

@binx72 @macgyvershe @raina-at @dragoonthegreatest @kholkate

@fookincarrotsandpotatoes28 @talkativeanxiousturtle @aloeverawrites @twoandahalfdimes @desi-yearning

@llcsecret @jobooksncoffee

(Let me know if you want to be tagged or removed from the list)

[nemisisnemi]

I'm very happy to of been able to participate in @princes-uprising 's discord secret santa event! I love looking at what everyone's cooked up <3

Happy holidays and final day of 2024 @artistnettles !! I wish good health and fortune upon you for 2025 my dear zine parent <3

i'm not sure how much tumblr will crunch the quality, but there's 4 easter eggs hidden in this piece!

also i'm so sorry to nettles that I didn't exactly follow the prompt!! >n<

my original vision and sketch didn't really work out, but I still tried to keep it related to the playful land event with Cater and your oc Lenny!

tagging:

@spookyavenuestreet @elenauaurs @yaamatic @oya-oya-okay @puowei

@aivy-saur @amatsuchan-eiliniel @aprityormarj @driedupeyeballs @distant-velleity

@fungifanart @glidiaxoxo @kingofech0park @le-monchou @cherrytreegrove

@ceruleancattail @cyath @cheshanoneko-draws @valy-gc @vauxxnm

@boopshoops @bunnwich @loser-jpg @nyx-of-night @celestcelest

@twistedwonderlandshenanigans @thehollowwriter @lumdays

(please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list!)

[helloliriels]

April Prompts 8 + 1 bonus:

You asked for it, so I'm sharing my list of (very) random things, that I've wanted to make art of 🌈✨️💜✨️🌈 and together this seemed to fit under ... Easter vibes???? So✌️✨😋 The 2025 Easter Egg Prompts are here! A short & sweet list of items to create in art, fics, limericks or whatever shakes your boat. Would love to have you join me! 8+1 prompts for the month of April, or 1 per month 'til the end of the year! I may take a while to finish mine also, but I'm shooting for April just to make myself DO EET and not put off the challenge!

Tagging in case you wanna join in! no pressure! these DO NOT have to be fandom related. Simply tag me if you post! 🪺🍭✨These are to challenge you to try something *new*. Break some eggs!

@chinike @rhasima @stephdrawsjohnlock @carla-creates @fluffbyday-smutbynight @bluebellofbakerstreet @chained-to-the-mirror @demonicangeling @khorazir @kettykika78 @a-victorian-girl @justanobsessedpan @ceruleanmindpalace @barachiki @thegildedbee @thetimemoves @calaisreno @stellacartography @thalialunacy @dragonnan @solarmama-plantsareneat @topsyturvy-turtely @safedistancefrombeingsmart @7-percent @lisbeth-kk @ninasnakie @peanitbear @peageetibbs @aquilea-of-the-lonely-mountain @meetinginsamarra @johnlocked-swiftie @theofficialinternetloner @strawberrywinter4 @keirgreeneyes @sgam76 @janetm74 @friday411 @ghostofnuggetspast @gregorovitch-adler @chriscalledmesweetie @petrifiedchild @mrb488 @unburstedbubble @neverlet @jobooksncoffee @amyreadsandstresses @kittenmadnessandtea @discordantwords @raina-at @arwamachine @londonlock @221beloved @hanschans @wizama @gaylilsherlock @naefelldaurk @windforkthewriter @whatnext2020 @jawnn-watson @iwlyanmw @muaddib-iswriting

[hunahuna-un]

❤ Yeehan Wip Week 2025 ❤

I made this for twitter/x since you can’t really post NSFW here anymore, but thought it was good to post here too for visibility! 💕 (below the post copied from twt, so post here only what is allowed)

Big thanks for sukuiddo for the chibis/art! ❤

~~~

So excited to announce #YeehanWipWeek2025 for April! 🤠🏹 Time to tackle some wips - or use the prompts as usual! All pieces are very welcome! 🥰💕

Themes tied around Spring / Easter this time! 🐰 yeehan love for everybunny! 💞

More info below! ⬇️

~

RULES:

💛 Any form of art, story or craft is welcome! Inviting all creators alike to participate! 💚 Each prompt has a two-day window. Pick one or combine the two! 💛 Late posting is allowed & encouraged! Share with us! 💚 R18 entries are allowed and must be properly tagged as #NSFW. 💛 Any wips you have are welcome! Please post them under day 5! 💚 Please support all participating artists/authors! Show love with like, rt and comment if possible! 🥰

Please tag all posts with #YeehanWipWeek2025 ! 🐰💞

~

PROMPTS AS TEXT:

Day 1: Apr 7-8th Blossom / Ritual

Day 2: Apr 9-10th Bunnies / Butterflies

Day 3: Apr 11-12th Chocolate / Eggs

Day 4: Apr 13-14th Spring / Goddess

Day 5: Apr 15-16th Free AU

Day 6: Apr 17-18th Rainbow / Storm

Day 7: Apr 19-20th Dream / Rebirth

💚 Have fun creating! 💛

Ps. Thanks @sukuiddo for the art! 🥺🫶 And all my friends who supported me! 💞

[erratum-paginae]

The problem when you have too many projects is that choice paralysis strikes hard when it's time to share them.

Thankfully, today marks the 8th anniversary of the launch of Yu-Gi-Oh VRAINS, which prompts me to share one of my (many...) 3am-bout-of-stressbinding projects. I was meant to leave for a professional trip abroad at 5am, and thus decided that I needed an emotional support notebook. And who could support me better than my bae Backup Secretary? Thus here it is, an 84-page quarto notebook about bonds and love and card games made in early March 2025.

More about the typesetting and binding process under the cut!

The endpapers and the typeset were made using stock image I got from pngtree and quotes from the amazing speech at the end of episode 120. Almost all the pages look like the one I shared above, but I added a few Easter Eggs: I'm particularly happy with the "Ai" including the kanji for love in the A.

The typesetting was made using Affinity Publisher 2. The font for the bottom-right quotes is Orbitron; the Vrains font I downloaded from Booth.jp for free 6 months ago or so but it seems to have been taken down since 😕 and the pixelated Japanese font is PixelMplus12. The quote in the typeset is in French, but I have an English version too!

I printed it on standard printer paper, because it was all I had at that time, on a new laser printer I had just received and wasn't familiar with yet. I was pleasantly surprised at the quality of the print!

It was my first time trying to do an insert with debossing; I then stuck the (well-loved, well-used) card in it. I had a leftover of that nice blue bookcloth, but not enough to cover the full notebook. I realised too late and since there was no way I was starting over at 2am, I made the last-minute decision of adding that heartbreaking image to complete the cover instead. It's laser-printed too, and since I didn't wax it, you can see the way the colour faded with time.

The notebook didn't spend enough time under the press, what with me leaving 2 hours after completing it, so the cover is slightly warped. And with my lack of guillotine, of course, the pages are cut askew. It's part of the charm.

Much was learnt, not much sleep was had, and I'm pretty happy with the result. It is now my daily notebook, and I bask in the knowledge that once I'm done writing in it, I could well bind myself a new one if I want (...hopefully not at 3am this time.)

[keopihaus]

KEOPIHAUS SPRING EVENT 2025

Happy Spring Equinox, visitors and patrons! Kicking off this year, we’ve decided on the Carnival of Venice for the spring seasonal event theme! The Carnival of Venice, also called Carnevale di Venezia in Italian, is an annual festival held in Venice, Italy. It is famous throughout the world for its elaborate costumes and masks. The Carnival ends on Shrove Tuesday (Martedi Grasso or Mardi Gras), which is the day before the start of Lent on Ash Wednesday. The Carnival traces its origins to the Middle Ages. It has existed for several centuries until it was abolished in 1797 after the fall of the Republic of Venice. Carnival was reestablished by the Italian government in 1979 and now attracts nearly 3 million visitors annually.

See event details under the cut!

For this event, a masquerade is in effect! Pick one of the six following well known mask types that are popular during Carnevale and use the associated prompt in your work!

Bauta/bautta → bauta or bautta masks were used to preserve one’s anonymity without sacrificing their ability to eat or talk due to the mask not being fitted along the jawline. This mask’s prompt is hidden. Use easter eggs or shadows in your work

Colombina → this half mask was popular with women and is commonly used in modern times. It only covers half the wearer’s face. The prompt for this mask is duality. Use the duality between one’s personality or the duality between femininity and masculinity in your work.

Moretta/servetta muta → this mask was primarily worn by patrician women. It was worn by biting down on a button or bit rendering the wearer unable to speak, hence the term muta. The prompt associated with this mask is muted. Whether it be muted as in wordless communication or muted colors, use these in your work.

Volto/larva → volto (face) or larva (ghost) masks are the most iconic and well known of Venetian masks. These masks are tightly fitted which do not allow the wearer to eat. This mask is paired with the prompt iconic. Use an iconic look or era or set your work in an idolverse.

Pantalone → the pantalone mask is a classic character from the Italian stage. It is usually represented as a sad old man with an oversized nose like the beak of a crow. The prompt for this mask is bird-like. Include birds or bird symbolism in your work.

Arlecchino → the final mask, the arlecchino or Harlequin, is a Zanni character of the commedia. He is meant to be a type of “noble savage”, devoid of reason and full of emotion. He may be a peasant, a servant, or even a slave. The mask is a half one usually depicted with a short, wide nose, a set of wide, round, arching eyebrows, a rounded beard, and always a “bump” on the forehead which is meant to signify a devil’s horn. The prompt for this final mask is monster/demon/alien/etc. Idol. Make the idol in your work non-human.

Rules

Rules for this event are as follows: 🎊 Must include the meaning of one of the prompts in your work. Please note, these cannot be exchanged and you cannot make up your own. The prompts are up for interpretation. Just be sure to include the prompt you used in the details preceding your fic or graphics. 🎊 Deadline for submission is June 20th @ 11 PM AKST (Alaska Standard Time) 🎊 Writers must meet the minimum word count of 500 words. 🎊Use the official event tag #kh spring event 25 🎊Regular network rules apply.

[theswiftyhallows]

✨ The Swifty Hallows – May Sign-Ups Are OPEN! ✨

It’s time to embark on our very first magical, musical journey! 🪄🎶 This month, we’re diving into Speak Now (Taylor's Version) – and you’re invited to join the fun!

🔮 How It Works:

📜 Fill out the Google Form to sign up and receive a randomly assigned Taylor Swift song from Speak Now (Taylor's Version) as your prompt!

🥚 Want an extra challenge? Opt in for a mystery Easter Egg prompt for added inspiration!

📝 Write a Harry Potter-themed fic (min 500 words) and submit it by May 31, 2025.

🏆 Want to participate in The Hallows Choice voting round? Keep your fic under 10k words to be eligible!

📅 Important Dates:

Sign-ups open: April 24th

Sign-ups close: May 14th

Stories due: May 31st

The Hallows Choice voting begins: June 1st

🪄 Open to all HP ships and crossovers!

📖 Stories must be posted on Ao3 with proper tagging.

Ready to claim your enchanted song prompt? Click here to sign up: The Swifty Hallows - May Sign-Up ✨

#TheSwiftyHallows #HarryPotterFanfiction #TaylorSwift #FanficEvent #MagicalSwiftie

[eeveesplace]

Regressuary 2025 Day 13

“Link deals with chronic pain by regressing.” (feat. Zelda)

There are a couple of easter eggs towards the end, so let me know if you recognize them!

🩷 Many thanks to @mcschnuggles for the prompts list! 🩷

Ship: ZeLink

Word Count: 302

Applicable Tags: Post-Game: Tears of the Kingdom (Legend of Zelda), Mute Link, Chronic Pain, Phantom Limb Pain (Kinda), Mentioned Rauru (Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom), Fidget Toys, Comfort Items, Blankets, Chew Necklaces, Bedtime Stories, Regressor Link, Carer Zelda, POV Third Person Omniscient

Link groaned as burning pain shot up his right arm, irritatingly reminding him of the Gloom that had destroyed it before Rauru replaced it and then fully restored it. Despite peace now being restored to Hyrule, over a century’s worth of pain and anguish kept him from relaxing entirely.

However, some methods helped him find moments of reprieve and reminded him of simpler times. The Hylian took out a ball of semi-solid white Chuchu jelly, and the cold it emanated helped ease the pain while also acting as a fidget toy for Link to play with and stretch his fingers.

He slid into a younger headspace and found his fairy-shaped teether and comfort blanket. Nibbling on the circular center part, he rubbed the soft but well-loved fabric against his cheek. The comfort eased Link, helping him get more comfortable and ready to nap away the pain-induced fatigue.

“Link? How are you- oh!” As she entered the room, Zelda's voice hushed into a whisper, and she softly stepped to the other side of the bed before gently sitting down. “Is it one of those painful days?” Link nodded and scooched closer to the princess. “I know, I know. Would you like me to read you a story?” Link nodded once more, letting out a big yawn. “Seems like you won’t need much help,” Zelda chuckled. “But I’ll do it nonetheless.” 

Zelda walked over to the bookshelf that hosted chronicles of Hyrule’s millennia-long mythos. “How about The Three Totem Heroes?” Link shook his head. “No? Hmm… Does The Golden Lute work for you?” Link gives a thumbs-up, and she returns to his side. “I always forget that this is your favorite!” She clears her throat, beginning the myth. “Centuries ago, the King of Hyrule had a hand-picked magical conductor. Afraid of Ganon’s return, he…”

Liked this and want more? Check the full Regressuary fic on my AO3 here!

[jmflowers]

when are you going to post your new fic? i'm so excited for it 😭

dude!!!! 🥹🥹🥰🥰

I’m excited for it, too!

I finished draft two last night and it needs so, so much work before I’ll be ready to share it properly.

Picture this: a word doc with 7K words spanning a timeline from June 2025 to December 2032 in the Hygge universe, but half the scenes are literally just:

“Dialogue.”

“Dialogue!”

“Dialogue.”

Or, the also excellent:

Maya laughs. Carina nods. Child moves to this position. (Note to self: discuss this concept here.)

…it needs a lot still.

I’d like to have it done by the weekend, but that’s not realistic. So hopefully by next weekend? My goal is to have something to post every Friday/Saturday/Sunday and I’m bummed that I didn’t have anything ready to go this past weekend. Maybe I’ll aim for a sneak peek here on Tumblr this Friday.

What I can and will say for right now, is this piece is a monster and should really be broken up into a few chapters (I won’t). It has the soft I need in Hygge, but also the angst that has been requested. Someone asked for danger, so that’s in there. Someone else asked for a specific bit of dialogue in a pregnancy scene, so that’s also in there. And the song “prompt” is my favourite Easter egg of all - anyone who figures it out will get 40,000 points to their Hogwarts house.

And it’s Bea. Just… all the Bea. My entire purpose is to make everyone love her as much as @lacallemojada and I do already.

[lisbeth-kk]

Easter Egg Prompts (2025) Day 5

A special invitation leads to a significant change in someone's wardrobe.

Dressed Up

Mycroft and Greg have been a couple for almost eight years when they finally find a weekend that fits them both.

“It has always irked my brother that I tied the knot first,” Sherlock smirks when they receive the wedding invitation.

“Easily deduced,” Rosie snorts. “You two are like kids sometimes.”

“Says the kid herself,” John quips.

“I’m frequently much more mature than any of them,” the ten-year-old girl retorts.

“Well, let’s move on before this escalates further,” John says firmly. “You, young lady, will need a new dress. There’s no way your posh uncle will let you inside Dartmouth House in any of your clothes.”

“I know. Uncle Myc told me he would take me shopping before Easter.”

Sherlock huffs dramatically at this admission.

“Doesn’t that man have any confidence in our capability to dress our daughter properly for a fancy wedding?”

“Apparently not,” John comments. “We should just indulge him, or he’ll just kidnap her after school anyway. Or worse, during class.”

“Hm, you know him well,” Sherlock remarks.

“He is rather predictable. Compared to you. Don’t tell him I said that, sweetheart,” he addresses Rosie.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she lies.

***

Mycroft is quite civil about collecting his niece for a shopping spree. He consults her fathers and is given carte blanche when it comes to the kind of attire, he and Rosie pick.

“As if he needed it,” Sherlock snickers. “He’s going to spoil her rotten.”

“That is his habit,” John concedes.

“Indeed. I should have predicted a colour theme. Luckily, blue is a favourite of mine too. Will you be wearing – “

“Oh, yes, darling. I certainly will,” John interrupts huskily. “I might even go commando as the evening draws to a close.”

“How risqué of you, Doctor Watson,” Sherlock purrs, feeling slightly weak in the knees by the thought of his husband in his kilt without pants.

“Maybe we can persuade the aunts to pick up Rosie and take her for the night.”

“Who is the genius now, John?”

“I have my moments. Now, get your delectable arse over here so I can have my way with you.”

***

“Why did you want to have a colour themed wedding, even deciding that the guests should wear blue?”

“It is much more organised and unambiguous that way,” Mycroft explains.

“God, you’re weird. A good thing I love you, or you’d be in real trouble.”

“Rosamund Watson-Holmes!”

“Relax, Uncle Myc. I’m only teasing you. Now, which fancy establishment are you taking me to?”

“Patience, my dear,” Mycroft chastises her, but the twinkle in his eyes gives him away.

“Which shade do you think will fit me best? Light or dark blue?”

“Considering your blonde hair and fair skin tone, I would say, either. Let us not rush into such important matters without sufficient data.”

“You sound like Papa,” Rosie tells him with a broad smile.

“Well, let us keep that a secret, shall we,” her uncle replies haughtily.

“Sure,” she lies.

***

From early on, Sherlock took responsibility when it came to Rosie’s hair. Curls can be difficult to tame, and he had decades of experience. John was beyond relieved. He wouldn’t have known where to start.

On the day of the wedding, Sherlock locks himself and Rosie into the bathroom to style her golden locks to perfection. Once finished with hers, she goes upstairs to collect her new dress, while Sherlock takes care of his own curls. 

Neither of her parents has seen the garment. She wants it to be a surprise, but she needs help with the back zipper, which Mrs Hudson has agreed to help her with.

The dress is light blue with an A-shaped, wavy skirt. Magnolia appliqués, one large one blooming from the right hip to the middle of her chest, and three small ones on the left side of the skirt make for a striking appearance. White ballerina shoes and a silver bracelet with light blue and silver hearts, complete the outfit.

“Oh, Rosie, dear! You look like a princess,” her Nana exclaims when Rosie twirls around, making the skirt flow around her legs.

“Thank you, Nana. What do you think Daddy and Papa will say.”

“Probably nothing, dear. They will be too choked up to utter a word. Enjoy the silence when you can, I say.”

“Have you already started on your herbal soothers?” Rosie inquires with narrowed eyes.

Martha Hudson harrumphs and mumbles something about her hip acting up.

***

Rosie tiptoes up the stairs. Murmuring voices are heard in the sitting room, and she peeps through the gap in the door. Her fathers are standing in front of the fireplace dressed up in their finest clothes. Well, her Daddy at least. Sherlock is almost always wearing a suit, but today he’s also wearing a tie, which she knows he hates, so she guesses he's making an effort for his brother’s sake. 

Daddy in a kilt, is something Rosie’s only seen in photographs, and he looks even better in reality. The garment isn’t entirely blue of course, but she thinks Uncle Myc won’t mind. Its colours are subtle enough.

For a few moments, she marvels at how much they still seem to love each other. Her friends have told her in abundance about quarrelling parents, and most of them have never even seen their parents kiss.

Speaking of. 

They lift their right hands simultaneously, cradling the other’s cheek, and shares a tender kiss.

“I love you so much, John.”

“Love you more,” he replies, smiling smugly.

“Not possible,” the detective mutters.

They share another kiss, and when they part, Rosie walks casually into the room.

“You two look nice,” she compliments them.

To Rosie’s astonishment, Nana was right. Not a word escapes the men, but there’s no question about what they feel. Their faces are like open books, letting their beloved girl see what they cannot express.

“My darling girl, you are breath-taking!”

“Oh, Rosie! What an amazing dress. You look wonderful.”

They’re both in dire need of the tissues she procures for them.

tbc

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

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Easter Egg Prompts (2025)

I was planning to do these prompts from @helloliriels much earlier in the month, but better late than never. During the car ride home today, inspiration struck, and I will probably post one each day until next Sunday. We'll see how it goes.

Sherlock fandom. Established Johnlock. Parent!lock.

Jellybeans

John is in agony on the sofa. In Sherlock’s spot, but considering the state of John, Sherlock lets him. It’s actually quite thoughtful of him. After all, John has put himself in this situation. Sherlock did warn him. But alas, his husband’s stubborn nature won over reason, and here they are.

A groan from John makes Sherlock both smirk and wince in sympathy. Stomach-ache is a hassle no matter if it’s your own fault.

***

Two hours earlier, after their walk around Regent’s Park, Rosie had wanted to visit her Nana, who she knew had prepared a tiny egg hunt for her goddaughter. 

Upstairs, two unopened easter eggs were waiting for them. John’s egg was from Harry, Sherlock’s from Mycroft. It was no hardship to tell the eggs apart, of course. The one that looked like a replica of a Fabergé egg, filled with truffle chocolates of every flavour, was obviously Sherlock’s. The smaller metallic one with a white and pink bunny on it, was John’s.

“Are you sure you don’t want to have a taste from mine?” Sherlock asked.

“Nope,” John replied, popping the p for good measure. “Too posh for my taste. I’ll be fine with my jellybeans, thank you very much.”

“Alright. Just try to restrain yourself. Those abominations are a death trap. Your stomach will not thank you if – “

“Yes, yes. Our child is downstairs; no need to play parent at present. I’ve got this.”

Sherlock was not convinced. 

***

He remembered the last time John had got his hands on the vile sweets. Christmas at Harry and Clara’s. The three of them suffered temporary insanity when the colourful sweets were available.

“Try one,” John had urged him.

“No, thank you. I prefer something less synthetic,” Sherlock said, as politely as he could.

John had shrugged, but when he some time later straddled Sherlock’s thighs and asked for a kiss, which he knew Sherlock couldn’t resist, John’s tongue tasted of the foul stuff. Nausea was cast on him, and he all but threw John off his lap to get to the loo in time.

Since then, John was meticulously rinsing his teeth and mouth before asking Sherlock for a kiss, if he’d eaten jellybeans.

***

Stomping feet from the stairs, announces that five-year-old Rosie Watson-Holmes is ascending. She frowns when she sees her father lying supine on the sofa. Sherlock smirks, knowing what comes next.

“Daddy, are you ill?”

John groans again and tries to sit up, quite unsuccessfully.

“He ate too many jellybeans,” Sherlock informs her.

The grimace appearing on the girl’s face, warms Sherlock to the core. It’s so similar to his own expression when he finds something distasteful.

“Did you eat them all?” Rosie inquires, her hands on her hips.

John mumbles something unintelligible, and Sherlock answers for him.

“He did. Regrets it now, as you can see.”

“Brian in my class is much the same. He eats all the chocolate in his advent calendar the first day, and the same with the easter egg. Especially when it’s something he fancies.”

The little girl looks so grown-up, even John has to smile.

“Perhaps we can dosage them for him next time,” Sherlock suggests.

“There’ll be no next time,” John moans. “Never again.”

Rosie looks at her Papa and rolls her eyes.

“If you say so, John,” Sherlock replies, trying his hardest not to burst out laughing.

He’s certain John will see the fun in it someday. But not today.

“Can you fill the tub for me, Papa? I don’t think Daddy’s up for it just yet.”

“I will, my darling. Go ahead and find your pyjama and dressing gown first.”

Sherlock kneels in front of the sofa, cradles John’s cheek, and kisses his forehead.

“Rest, my little jellybean,” he whispers.

The Union Jack cushion hits him in the back of the head when he turns to leave the room.

“Even in this state, my aim is outstanding, mind you,” John growls.

Sherlock half turns and winks at his husband.

“I know, captain,” he purrs and throws the cushion back, which John catches easily.

“Smug bastard,” John mutters, but he’s unable to keep the smile out of his voice.

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

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Easter Egg Prompts (2025) Day 6

When Sherlock attends weddings things have a habit of escalating.

Inside Glass

Mycroft Holmes and Gregory Lestrade were married in the elegant Churchill Room.

“This room is made for Uncle Myc,” Rosie whispers to John.

“It certainly is,” he agrees.

The floor to ceiling walnut panelling oozes Mycroft all the way.

His eyes wander to the front of the room, only a few feet away from where he and Rosie sit, side by side with Violet and Walter Holmes. It reminds him slightly of his own wedding.

Sherlock is stunning in his blue suit, though it is a bit strange to see him wearing a tie. He hates the thing vigorously, and it’s only the third time John has witnessed his love tying the snare around his neck. All three times have been weddings.

At first, John had been astonished that Mycroft asked, and that Sherlock acceded to be his big brother’s best man. Seconds later, he berated himself for his short-sightedness. He knew that the brothers loved each other dearly. They just had an…atypical way of showing it.

Seeing them now, standing together before the ornate fireplace, makes John’s chest tight with emotions. Both men have soft expressions and warmth in their eyes, which truth be told, is somewhat unnerving. At least when they are in such close proximity to each other.

Greg looks utterly besotted at his soon-to-be-husband. His older brother, who bears quite a resemblance to the groom himself, much more so than the other set of brothers, seems to be far away. The DI has to elbow him to get his attention when they are supposed to change places. A glint in Sherlock’s eyes, tells John he has observed it too. 

“What is wrong with Uncle Greg’s brother?” Rosie murmurs.

Ah, my genius daughter. Your Papa is going to be so proud when I tell him you noticed it too.

***

It turns out that whenever Sherlock Holmes attends a wedding, apart from his own, which was a lovely and tranquil affair, crimes have a way of interfering. 

Greg’s brother, Herbert, had failed to inform the DI of his money problems, due to gambling. On the morning of the wedding, a threatening letter had been shoved through his letter box. Luckily, he was long since divorced and had no children. His ex-wife had remarried, going on ten years, so there was no one else to threat; or so he thought.

Apparently, the man Herbert owes money, isn’t the most thorough researcher the world has seen, because he has threatened to go after his little brother. The brother who is a DI at New Scotland Yard, newly married to the British government, and whose closest friend is the world’s only consulting detective, who is married to the finest crack shot in the whole of Britain.

This idiot of a blackmailer has never tried to disguise himself either, so it’s rather easy to get the man arrested when Herbert recognises him lurking around the bushes in the courtyard.

Both Sherlock and John look as presentable after the scrimmage as they did before they caught the villain. 

While the pair do what they do best, their daughter gets a hold of the professional photographer, who does a splendid job of immortalising the whole ordeal.

***

“Finally! I had no idea a sex holiday took so long,” Rosie exclaims when Mycroft visits Baker Street on a Sunday afternoon.

Sherlock sniggers, John rolls his eyes, and the eldest Holmes brother blushes furiously.

“Was it very sunny in Greece? Your face is all…red-ish. Daddy says one needs to use sunblock when – “

“Hello, Rosamund. Good to see you too. Have you been well?” Mycroft inquires when he’s gathered himself.

“Fine,” she mutters. “A bit bored. Have you got the photos from the wedding yet?”

Mycroft had expected another kind of welcome after three weeks away, but he is quite adaptable.

“I have. Why are you curious about them? Didn’t your parents take enough photos of you in that glorious dress of yours?” he asks in that supercilious tone of his.

“They certainly did,” she replies and rolls her eyes. “I’m more interested in the one of them catching that man threatening Uncle Greg and his brother.”

Mycroft’s jaw tightens, his eyes harden, and his voice is clipped when he answers.

“Gregory and I have no interest – “

“Of course, not. But I have. I want that photo framed inside glass. I’ve found the perfect spot for it too. 8 x 10 inches will do. A simple, black frame. Please.”

If the last word doesn’t do it, the warm hug Mycroft gets from his niece, closes the deal.

***

When Rosie gets home from school the following day, a parcel is waiting for her. Inside is a photo of her fathers and the idiot of a blackmailer. John has a sinister look on his face, bending the man’s arm painfully on his back, while Sherlock looks lovingly at his husband, not a curl out of place or a wrinkle on his outfit.

In the envelope she finds a card from her uncle and a few smaller photos.

Dearest, Rosamund

Considering your sense of the macabre, a patrimony from your Papa, I took the liberty to provide the booking photographs of the malefactor. 

Uncle Mycroft

Rosie sighs and seeks out Sherlock who’s sitting by his microscope.

“Papa, where’s the dictionary? I’ve got a letter from Uncle Myc again.”

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

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Easter Egg Prompts (2025) Day 4

A peculiar request from Rosie, causes John to momentarily panic.

Sacred or Divine (it's both, actually)

Although John and Mary were married in a church, and Rosie had been christened, John was not particularly religious. It had more to do with tradition; what was expected by society at large. 

Sherlock, of course, didn’t bother with such tedious nonsense, his presence at the forementioned wedding and christening notwithstanding. 

So, it takes both men by surprise when their daughter wants to visit one of Siena’s churches when they visit the city this Easter, just a week after Rosie’s ninth birthday. 

“Any particular reason?” John asks.

“I want to light a candle,” is the answer.

John grips Sherlock’s hand hard. They never talk much about Rosie’s mother, for good reasons, which perhaps has been an oversight. Could it be that their precious girl wants to light a candle for a woman she never knew. There’s no way John will deny her, but it feels awkward and a bit eerie.

“John?”

Sherlock’s worried voice is like balm to John’s nerves. He squeezes his husband’s hand reassuringly.

“Nothing. I’ll tell you later,” he whispers.

“You thought of Mary,” the detective states quietly.

John sighs, both relieved and exasperated. He’s never successful at hiding things from Sherlock.

“Yeah,” he admits. 

Before they enter the church, Rosie has picked, San Clemente in Santa Maria dei Servi, she discloses who she wants to honour.

“You know Chiara, right?”

They both nod. The girl is one of Rosie’s closest friends and has visited Baker Street on numerous occasions.

“Well, today is her grandmother’s birthday. She died when Chiara was two, so she doesn’t remember her. Her Nonna was Italian and apparently quite religious. So, Chiara asked if I would light a candle for her if I was near a church today. Which of course was a ludicrous reservation. Italy has churches everywhere.”

The two men have to try really hard to keep serious when Rosie rolls her eyes in a similar way as her Papa. They’re about to enter a sacred building after all. It’s one thing to giggle at a crime scene; doing the same inside a church – well, it’s considered a bit not good, isn’t it.

They wander around to admire the stunning architecture and the décor. The exterior of the church is quite mundane, but its interior is a wonder of craftsmanship. It’s spacious, calm, and that particular atmosphere churches have, is ubiquitous.

“Take a picture when I light the candle,” Rosie demands. “I want to send Chiara proof that I actually did what she asked of me.”

Sherlock fishes out his mobile and immortalises the image of his daughter in the beguiling light from dozens of flickering candles. John places his hand on the small of Sherlock’s back for a brief moment. They are after all in a catholic church, and although the current pope advocates for the LGBTQ+ community, not everyone shares his views. Certain looks from other tourists and locals, have not been lost on either of them.

***

Sherlock tells them about a previous visit to Siena as they walk the steep streets of the city.

“It was July 2 and the Palio had the place topsy-turvey.”

“What’s the Palio?” Rosie asks.

“A horse race held twice a year. Ten riders representing the city wards, riding bareback. There are actually seventeen contrade as they’re called. Why they’re only ten that participate, I have no idea. Perhaps it was the original number. It started in 1633, after all. They all wear the appropriate colours of their contrade, and each part of the city is decorated in the correct colours as well. Onlookers wear scarfs, showing which district is theirs, and there’s some good-humoured bickering among them. People gather at Piazza del Campo hours before the race to get the best seats. The race itself only lasts approximately 90 seconds, and quite often riders are thrown off their horse due to the speed and sharp curves. If the horse finishes the three rounds on its own, it wins anyway.”

Rosie’s eyes are wide with excitement, and she makes her fathers promise to take them back to witness the spectacle.

Later, when they eat lunch, the same girl commits a crime.

“This tiramisu is divine! Even better than Angelo’s.”

“The audacity,” John whispers in Sherlock’s ear.

“Outrageous! We can’t eat there with here ever again. If Angelo gets wind of this, I fear the consequences.”

“Surely, he’ll understand. She’s just a kid,” John protests.

“Oh, I’m not afraid for her. She’s got him wrapped tightly around her pinkie. It’s myself I worry for. He will want me to pay for our next meal, John!”

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

Also available on AO3 (the first chapter for now)

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Easter Egg Prompts (2025) Day 3

Did we know this about Mycroft Holmes? I sure didn't...

Stamps

Whenever Mycroft is travelling abroad, which is quite often, he sends postcards to his niece. This tradition came to life after a weekend she spent with him and Greg. Rosie is a curious girl, and her fascination with Mycroft’s stamp collection, took him by surprise. Greg wasn’t the least bit interested, and Sherlock never had the patience for it when their grandfather had introduced them to philately.

Mycroft frequently despairs over the receding amounts of letters, cards, and stamps in the modern world. Even the traditional Christmas cards are dwindling. Official letters seldom have stamps nowadays but are imprinted instead. It’s hateful!

“You are an endless source of astonishment and light, my dear,” Mycroft told her when Rosie leafed through his stamp albums, occasionally squealing when she caught sight of a particularly enticing one.

To his horror, his eyes temporarily blurred with moist.

“Such a softie, you are,” Greg whispered and kissed his cheek.

Mycroft blushed furiously, utterly mortified that the girl got exposed to all this sentiment. Upon closer inspection, Rosie didn’t even shrug when she looked up from the album filled with stamps from Asia.

“No need to be embarrassed, Uncle Myc. Daddy and Papa kiss all the time. It’s love. I’d be more worried if Uncle Greg smacked you on the head with a frying pan.”

“Christ, Ro! Where do you get such ideas?” Greg exclaimed.

“Where do you think, Detective Inspector?” Rosie asked, deepening her voice to impersonate Sherlock.

***

“You know you don’t have to cater to my brother and his philately if you don’t want to, right?”

“Excuse me, but do you know me? At all. Since when did I do things, I don’t enjoy without making a fuss? Name one. I dare you!”

John’s laughter is kind of evil in Sherlock’s opinion, and Rosie looks at her father with a satisfied smirk.

Time for a sulk, Sherlock decides, and flops himself dramatically onto the couch, and pulls his dressing gown tightly around himself.

None of his Watsons try to pull him out of it, for which Sherlock is eternally grateful. They know, from experience, that an interrupted sulk can cause all kinds of unpleasant experiments. Only Rosie, as a toddler, was able to coax him out of his mood without severe consequences. 

Nowadays, she doesn’t bother, fully knowing her Papa still loves her, despite his demeanour.

***

Rosie leafs through her own stamp album, showing Nana her favourites, once attached to several postcards from her uncle.

“Did you know the Vatican City in Rome has its own post office?” she asks the elderly lady.

Martha Hudson nods when Rosie points at a stamp, Easter-themed with a stained-glass window depicting Jesus’ cross and a fallen figure.

“A bit gruesome,” she remarks.

Rosie just huffs and tells her Nana that finding fingers in the sugar bowl is far worse than a tiny picture without even a tiny glimpse of blood.

To divert the landlady’s attention, Rosie shows her a colourful stamp from the Isle of Wight of Robin Hood’s hat with a swanky feather attached to the hatband.

“Uncle Greg sent this, actually. Papa scolded him for weeks for the unoriginal choice of stamp.”

“I can imagine,” Mrs Hudson replies dryly.

“This one is my absolute favourite,” the girl says.

The stamp is indeed a thing of beauty. A quilled paper heart in every colour of the rainbow, from the love collection, issued in Dallas.

“I think Uncle Myc sent one to Uncle Greg as well.”

Going by the impressive eyeroll Martha Hudson displays, her goddaughter deduces that her Nana finds that story highly unlikely. 

Rosie sighs. She knows that her uncle will always be a thorn in the lady’s side. That said, Martha Hudson takes great pleasure in the sumptuous hampers Mycroft Holmes gives her for Christmas and Easter…

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

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Easter Egg Prompts (2025) Day 7

Sherlock can't believe he's being ambushed. In his own home. By his daughter of all people!

Moons

“You have got to be kidding me!” Sherlock exclaims.

“Language, Sherlock,” Mrs Hudson scolds him. “There is a child present.”

“I’ve heard worse, Nana,” Rosie reassures her.

“What did I miss?” John asks a bit breathlessly, having run from the tube station due to the foul weather.

“Nothing,” his husband murmurs.

John chuckles, clearly looking forward to the disclosure.

“I just need to change out of these,” he says and indicates his soaked trousers and socks.

“Not even a kiss,” the detective mutters under his breath.

“I heard that. Soon, my love,” John shouts from their bedroom.

“Nothing wrong with his hearing, then,” their landlady remarks.

Rosie giggles, and goes back to her school assignment, which is the source of her Papa’s outburst.

Find out which other moons can be found in our solar system. Choose one or two and write 50-100 words about it.

Luckily for Sherlock, he gets his hello kiss before John inquires about what’s got him into a strop. When Rosie tells him, he’s unable to do anything but guffaw, much to his husband’s displeasure.

***

“You should show this to my brother. He is an aficionado of the Bard. It will most likely surprise him that Uranus’ moons are named after characters from his plays.”

“In some ways, I can picture it, but I guess he never attends the Globe,” John remarks thoughtfully.

“Certainly not. The seats are too uncomfortable for his derriere, the offered cushions notwithstanding,” Sherlock smirks. “He prefers ordinary theatres to that old thing.”

“So, why did you choose those two moons?” John asks his daughter, pointing at her assignment.

“Isn’t it obvious?” she asks, utterly nonplussed.

Sherlock takes a closer look, and spots it immediately, but he lets Rosie explain it to her Daddy instead of gloating, which he would’ve done a decade ago.

“Alright, then. Oberon was discovered in 1787 by William Herschel. His son, John, named it. Does this make it more understandable?”

“No need to be cheeky, young lady,” John says sternly, which has nothing to do with embarrassment for not seeing the obvious, but rather the tone Rosie uses.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, aware that she’s reached a limit.

“Apology accepted. What about Miranda?”

Rosie lights up when she realises that he’s truly interested in her findings and reasons.

“It’s a rather lovely name for an ugly extra-terrestrial body,” she begins. “Those who have seen it, describe the surface akin to a moth-eaten coat, or the Frankenstein monster’s patched together skin.”

“I see,” John replies, rising an eyebrow at his husband.

“Fitting for a Watson-Holmes, don’t you think?” Sherlock remarks innocently.

John hums in agreement, and peace is once again restored.

***

It’s Greg who picks Rosie up after her class’s visit to the Royal Observatory. Her classmates are well accustomed to all sorts of vehicles collecting her, and the DI’s badge doesn’t even get a second look.

“Hi, Ro. Hard crowd to impress,” he says dryly, gesturing toward her friends.

“Hi. They’re secretly incredibly jealous and curious, but they think of themselves as too cool to approach you. I bet they’ll interrogate me on Monday,” she replies with a shrug.

Greg chuckles and turns the car around.

“Just let me know if you want some advice about techniques to feign ignorance.”

“Thank, but no need for that. Papa’s way ahead of you.”

“I bet he is. Hardly surprising,” he retorts. “Did you have a good time?”

“Mostly. The astronomers were a highlight. And getting to look through the telescope was quite interesting.”

“I sense a ‘but’ in there,” her uncle prompts.

“Yeah,” she sighs. “Boys.”

Lestrade’s hackles rise and he’s instantly alert.

“What about them?” he asks seriously.

Rosie laughs and tells him it’s nothing inapt.

“It’s just…I mean…they are so childish! We read parts of our assignment out loud, right. When it was my turn…”

She sighs heavily before she continues.

“I was the only one who had chosen Uranus’ moons. The rest…well, I guess you can deducehow it played out after that.”

“Oh, I definitely can,” Greg tells her, and tries to keep up his strict façade, but fails spectacularly when Rosie starts to giggle. 

Even Mycroft finds it amusing when Rosie retells the story half an hour later.

***

Two weeks after Easter, Rosie is surrounded by her uncles and her parents in the Barbican Theatre, witnessing a stunning performance of Hamlet. 

John had thought she would be bored by the old-fashioned language, but in the interim, her eyes sparkle with excitement. 

“Did you know?” she asks Mycroft.

He doesn’t need her to elaborate, of course.

“Yes. I thought you would find that particular – “

“I did! I do!” she interrupts enthusiastically.

She turns to her parents, who both look a bit flabbergasted.

“He could be your twin,” John whispers.

“Indeed,” Sherlock agrees. “Quite extraordinary.”

A loud snore from Greg Lestrade makes them all pause. Sherlock looks a bit affronted, John and Rosie chuckle, while Mycroft sighs in that condescending way of his.

“I reckon my husband gets enough of your theatrics at work to burden himself watching your lookalike in his spare time, brother mine,” he retorts haughtily.

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[lisbeth-kk]

Easter Egg Prompts (2025) Day 2

Did I go overboard with my chosen prompt? I might have. Je ne regrette rien!

Skulls (in abundance)

Rosie’s preferred pattern at the age of seven, comes as no surprise to the ones knowing the décor in 221B. And of course, everyone indulges her. From her fathers to her godmothers, via the uncles and aunts; they all purchase every kind of items for the adored girl, if they have skulls printed on them. 

On Halloween that year she wears a black dress with glowing skulls scattered all over the skirt. The blood-red tights are adorned with black skulls with silver stars as eyes. An orange umbrella, especially made by Uncle Mycroft’s umbrella maker, has a black border of skulls. Her headband is white with red skulls, and in the hand not holding the pumpkin bucket for the sweets, is THE skull – Billy.

***

At Christmas, their tree has skulls on every other branch. Some tacky from cheap shops – those are from the aunts and Molly. Others are – well, not tacky at all. John has no idea where Mycroft has purchased them, but they’re not from Liberty, because he’s followed Sherlock there to buy ornaments, and skulls were not in their assortment. 

No, they were probably from Harrods or some posh shop abroad. John knows that Greg and Mycroft went to Paris in late November, and when he finds the box, the skulls belong in, the letters printed on it are in fact in French.

“She’s getting more spoiled than the Queen’s corgis,” he mutters.

“John, she is the only child my brother willingly comes in contact with. I consider it a huge win. Do you know what he said when I showed him a photo of her as a new-born?”

“Nothing nice, rather creepy, is my guess,” John answers.

“Indeed. He ascertained that she looked well-functioned.”

John giggles so hard, he has to sit down on the sofa, lest he fall to his knees.

When he gets himself together, John acknowledges that Mycroft has indeed come a long way since that odd remark.

“He adores her, John. And that is a rare thing, as you are aware. Neither of us give our love lightly, but when we do, it’s forever and in abundance.”

“I know, my love,” John murmurs and pulls Sherlock close to snog him thoroughly.

***

To John’s alarm, the spoiling of their daughter only continues to spiral, and before Easter and Rosie’s birthday, he puts his foot down.

He’s looking over Sherlock’s shoulder and what he sees on the laptop screen, makes him frown. The site his husband is engrossed in, is some sort of fancy wallpaper online shop. 

“The charcoal or the yellow one?” he asks.

“Neither!” John exclaims when he sees the ridiculous price. “We are not buying skull wallpaper for her, Sherlock. This insanity must stop.”

“It has nothing to do with insanity, John. Our daughter has inquired – “

“Our daughter had her room refurbished last year, if you recall.”

“Yes, but – “

“No,” John says firmly, takes the laptop out of Sherlock’s hands and closes the lid. “Come here.”

Sherlock looks warily at his husband but takes a seat beside him on the sofa.

“Look. I have no objections to spoiling Rosie, but I’d rather it be less of the material stuff. Our love and time, are things I find much more valuable than new wallpaper and bloody skulls.”

“But she loves the skulls!” Sherlock protests.

“She does. For now. How long do you think she’ll continue to be obsessed with them, hm? In two months, it might be something entirely different. Probably ponies if she’s anything like my sister. And then, she’ll detest the skulls; will want them all gone, and then what. We’ll have to redecorate her room again. The clothes, she’ll grow out of, and the items can easily be given to some second-hand shop or whatever, but big things like wallpaper, chairs, and so on – “

“Alright, John. I see your point. And I quite like the bees and honey pattern up there. More so than the skulls. I just want to give her…to make her happy.”

“I know, love, and you do. Every day. Your love for her is showing in everything you do for her. And growing up in a home with loving parents, who love both each other and their child – well, that’s not a thing every kid gets to experience. She’s so lucky to have you as her Papa, Mycroft and Greg as her uncles – everybody really.”

“You are forgetting yourself, John,” Sherlock says softly and strokes his fingers through the silvery strands. “The sane one. The one keeping us all grounded to earth instead of soaring aimlessly around in space.”

They don’t speak much after that. Rosie is at Molly’s, and they use the opportunity to make other noises in their bedroom.

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