#and how watson would inevitably FEEL ABOUT HIM.

[thesylverlining]

So, I, Um.... Yeah.

Perchance To Dream

Chapter One: First, The Storm

"There, there, you're all right now," I gently lied, as I lay him down to rest. And then, I told the truth, with all my heart. "And it will be all right. The room is dry, Sherlock. The waters are far, far from you, and they will not enter as long as I am here. Now rest. I will only be a moment." "Promise, John?" he asked, voice still high, faint, brittle. It was my name he'd said, I insisted to myself, most firmly. Mine.

(A fanfiction for Sherlock Holmes: The Awakened; Frogwares videogame series)

[abstractfrog]

HI I JUST SAW YOUR INCREDIBLE SHERLOCK AND CO COMIC YOU MADE AND I WOULD LOVE FOR YOU TO TALK ABOUT THE PROCESS AND THE SYMBOLISM AND INTRICACIES AND EVERYTHING PLEASE ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

GOD THANK U ok if i actually talked about EVERYTHING i would be here forever and ever, there were things about the process where it kept surprising me and i kept adding stuff.

I talk about my general comic process here , it started out mostly the same for this one. Analysis of the script, sketches, panel and colour blocking

The scene from Mr Sherlock Holmes presented me with a unique challenge (for me) because...usually I pick scenes from the podcast that are instantly visually stimulating. This scene is NOT that. It's sort of unclear and confusing and even the emotive narrative is sort of hard to pick out. Those things I had to sort of decide for myself. It's hard to draw a whole scene like this without first deciding what the scene is about, what its purpose is. If you go back and listen to the episode along with the comic you'll notice all sorts of changes and tonal shifts - that's because of me and my decision making.

I decided that the direction I wanted to go in was to show John having his realization about himself, his podcast, and Sherlock, showing him getting pulled into, yes, Sherlock's world, but also the world of the podcast as an adaptation. I knew i could do this just with colour, but if you've seen my other comics, you know i almost always use colour to show shifts. I guess I had some insecurity about doing the same thing over and over again so I pushed myself to think of other ways I could accomplish it visual. Enter: rendering technique

I will say I didn't expect this effect to make John seem so SAD and MISERABLE, i only wanted to show him getting pulled in, but its effective for his emotions in this scene as well. Scanning drawings into the computer sort of flattens the paper texture, so I started adding photos of the pages of A Study in Scarlet to make him feel more paper-y. And then, of course, realised i could use that to further elaborate on John's inner thoughts, backgrounds, and motivations. People are welcome to interpreted that how they like and i've seen a number of variations, but to me it operates on sort of a meta level, showing the inevitability of what John is going through. He's a Watson, he's always going to follow Holmes, he's going to try and figure him out, and that's why you sort of see a back and forth between acd and pod Watson, highlighting the ways in which they are similar, and then, John breaks off and becomes his own character, still with those foundations but also entirely different.

there's one piece of text that i haven't seen anyone pick up on or mention and I'm starting to think it's gone unnoticed because it's in an unexpected spot. I won't mention what or where because it is, for now, a very indulgent little secret.

I notice a lot of people are getting a kick out of Sherlock playing with the speech bubbles, which I am so pleased by because I almost didn't do it! I thought i was maybe breaking something in the comic but it was so fun that i didn't care and I'm so glad it came across well. It operates on a lot of levels, it shows his thought process, it plays into that fourth-wall medium play i've got going on, and it feeds into the web metaphor as well as visually showing him roping John in.

on the topic of Sherlock, I feel a lot of people are rather focused on John, which is understandable (he's the main event) but Sherlock has a lot of details I love too.

For instance, him pushing his hair back and putting on a coat when the officer arrives, almost like he's shifted modes, and then his hair falling back down when he gets excited and John starts to understand.

I really love this moment of Sherlock seeing John's potential for interest in mysteries when he's trying to solve the matter of what Sherlock Does, and being surprised and flattered for a moment (until John messes it up again)

John copying Sherlock's pose <3

There's deliberate things in the character design as well, things like the fact that once John comes into colour, it reveals that he's actually wearing more colour than anyone else in the scene, and the fact that the grey in John's hair only appears post-greyscale. Things you are welcome to read into. And there are, of course, the socks, which I've seen people pick up on.

Those are the main things for now so i might leave it there, but thank you so much for your ask and i'd be pleased to elaborate further on absolutely anything!

[gregorovitch-adler]

Messy

John turned off the microphone and sighed. He placed it on the side table beside his armchair and sat back in an almost dark room.

Sherlock, John and Mariana had been working on another case.

It was quite late, so Mariana had gone to bed in 221 A. John had been in the sitting room of 221 B, ruminating about his podcasting skills to himself.

John looked at Sherlock - who was sitting in his armchair across the room with his eyes closed - and inevitably began to think the differences between the two of them.

Must be different, being so perfect at almost everything, John thought, continuing to gaze at Sherlock.

Perfect analytical and observational skills needed to solve the cases, perfect timbre of the voice, perfect enunciations, and...

John had obviously noticed it a million times before but now he had to admit it.

... Perfect looks.

Not that John was jealous of all that (okay, maybe a little, but not too much), but now and then he would think that he made a wrong career choice as a podcaster after having served as an army doctor.

Oftentimes he would think that maybe he was better off as a general practitioner now that he was a civillian himself.

A comparatively ordinary job, without anyone else to work for or with.

Would that life suit him better?

John furrowed his brow at those thoughts.

"I won't be able to sleep if you keep your eyes on me the whole night," said Sherlock with his eyes still closed.

John parted his lips and got up from his chair, feeling heated around his face. "Oh, sorry. I'll, er, I'll just go upstairs. You should go to bed too, mate. Aren't you - aren't you uncomfortable here?"

John mentally kicked himself for stuttering yet again.

"No, stop. I could hear you thinking from across the room, just now." Sherlock finally opened his eyes and sat straight on his chair, looking at John intensely. "There is something on your mind, Watson. I need to know what."

John was taken aback by the kind of intensity he saw in Sherlock's eyes. He gave in. "Well, it's just that..." he trailed off.

A brief silence fell in the room as Sherlock and John locked their eyes together. Sherlock got up from his chair and walked over to John so he could be close to him.

"What is it?" Sherlock prompted.

"Am I doing this right?" John finally spoke, taking in irregular breaths.

"Doing what right?" Sherlock was looking at him with confusion.

"This whole podcast thing. I mean, I make it so awkward for our listeners sometimes. And half of the time my jokes don't even seem to land well." John gesticulated widely. "And, um, even after all that editing and cutting out the extra bits, the end result isn't flawless. It's so messy and imperfect."

Sherlock stared at John blankly for a moment. He then opened his arms wide looking at him with an awkward face. "Is it okay if we..."

John caught on. "Uh, yeah, sure," he said with his brow knitted.

They both wrapped their arms around each other. John's one arm was around his waist, and he ran his other arm over Sherlock's back. Sherlock's arms were around his shoulders.

John managed to place his chin on Sherlock's shoulder and sighed.

"The end result is not what we listen to," Sherlock began in a calm voice in John's ear. "The end result is the response of our listeners. How is it?"

John smiled. "Really good, so far, overall."

"There you go."

John felt Sherlock smile against his right shoulder.

They let each other go, but they were still holding hands, looking at each other deeply in the eye.

"Even if that weren't the case, I would not have cared."

"And why is that?" John asked, still looking at his friend with a smile.

"Because I like you as you are."

John chuckled, followed by Sherlock.

John turned around to make his way to his bedroom, already feeling loads better than before.

*

Prompt: Imperfect by @calaisreno

Tags: @helloliriels , @jamielovesjam , @topsyturvy-turtely , @keirgreeneyes , @totallysilvergirl , @lisbeth-kk , @peanitbear , @gaylilsherlock , @friday411 etc.

[swissmissficrecs]

Johnlock fics I read in 2023

This is everything I read in the Sherlock Holmes fandom last year that made it into my bookmarks. So while I may not have read enough to make a selected "best of" list, consider these the ones that made it past all my internal selection criteria and are deserving of a spotlight. A few of these were completed prior to 2023.

A Case of You by Silvergirl (17K, M, Johnlock, Sherlock/OMC) Sherlock is marrying an American, and at the rehearsal dinner, best man John makes a drunken love confession he doesn’t remember the next day. Badly hungover, John can't find anyone to tell him what the hell happened to the wedding, where the grooms are, or how he can put it right so that Sherlock can be happy. But what if he's dead wrong about what will make Sherlock happy?

A Midnight Clear by khorazir (16K, T, Johnlock) It’s Christmas Eve, and Sherlock is working. Because that’s what he does. He doesn’t need Christmas, or holiday cheer, or even company. He’s fine on his own, thank you very much – until a series of strange encounters on his way back to Baker Street makes him reconsider.

A Story That Is Almost, But Not Quite, Entirely Unlike Blue Carbuncle by Iwantthatcoat (16K, M, Johnlock) It’s the most wonderful time of the year, and the Holmes Family is all set to have one of those unimaginable Christmas dinners— but the game is afoot, as Mummy’s friend is caught up in a Christmas mystery.

An Elegant Solution by ArwaMachine (19K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock finds himself unspeakably aroused by the idea of John with another man. Problem is, the only man Sherlock will permit be with John is Sherlock himself. Seems like an unsolvable problem. ... or is it?

An Ocean Away by westernredcedar (14K, T, Johnlock) Sherlock Holmes has been gone for twenty long years, time enough for John Watson's daughter to make it all the way to Harvard University.

Avast Ye Merry Gentlemen by StellaCartography (10K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock is not a Christmas person. John decides it's Christmas that needs changing.

Bright Blue Ink by 13_33 (13K, G, Johnlock, Warstan) When one of my patients asks me about my relationship with Sherlock Holmes, the great detective, I answer this: I am his chronicler, his assistant in solving crimes, his confidant and friend. Of course, all these terms hold true, now as then, at the beginning of our shared history. But just as in a family portrait you can only see the put-on smiles and never the real faces of the people, they were only part of what made up my true relationship with Holmes. I know him, I then add; I know him well. [ACD]

Deductive Reasoning by cormorant (8K, T, Johnlock) John finds out that Sherlock has assumed for a while that their relationship was romantic, and feels like maybe he should have been notified about that.

Doting Husbands by Calais_Reno (16K, M, Johnlock) Sherlock takes on a new hobby: writing a story. If only something would happen! Takes place a year after the ending of Wooing Sherlock Holmes. He and John have been married for a year, still retired, living in Sussex.

Full Mount by ArwaMachine (54K, E, Johnlock) After Sherlock unceremoniously returns from the dead, John finds himself inexplicably angry all the time. So he does what any emotionally-constipated British man does: he joins a Mixed Martial Arts gym. As John throws himself into the sport and joins in on underground no-holds-barred brawls, situations arise that just might force John to face what is really going on underneath all the rage.

Indefinite Lines by ArwaMachine (298K, E, Johnlock) When two lines, inclined towards each other, are extended indefinitely, it is inevitable that they meet. Upon meeting, the lines become something new. Together. Perhaps it’s been like that from the beginning for Sherlock and John—their lives weaving together, inclined towards one another, moving closer and closer to something greater than themselves.

Live from the Morgue by disfictional (8K, E, Johnlock) Molly interviews Sherlock on her podcast, Live from the Morgue. John listens.

Lost In A Good Book by khorazir (68K, M, Johnlock) After chasing a criminal into a poky second-hand bookshop, John and Sherlock find themselves not only stuck in the building, but in L-space itself. With things still raw and unsettled between them after the events surrounding the Culverton Smith case, this adds another dimension to their predicament, which not only consists of finding a way out of the shop (while avoiding getting murdered by the criminal), but also to finally address the issues between them.

Nightjet by khorazir (22K, M, Johnlock) Officially deceased for eighteen months and still looking for the last remainders of Moriarty’s criminal empire, an exhausted Sherlock boards a night train in Germany to bring him to his next hunting ground. Due to a mishap with the sleeper cars, he is forced to share a compartment with a stranger – who turns out to be not quite as strange as Sherlock thought. The universe isn’t lazy, after all …

Nothing to Celebrate by DiscordantWords (30K, M, Johnlock, Warstan) Sherlock Holmes is back from the dead. Things only get worse from there.

Our Ghosts And This by LipstickDaddy (12K, T, Johnlock) An epilogue in three acts.

Primavera by Berty (9K, T, Johnlock) Italy in the springtime is as romantic as it gets but is it enough to free unspoken words and feelings after years of silence?

Salut d'Amour by ecoutes (11K, G, Johnlock) Despite Holmes claiming that my narrations of our cases were tainted with sentimentality, his preferences in music, I learned, were awfully romantic. [ACD]

Spare Parts by Raina_at (63K, E, Johnlock) Two years ago, Sherlock Holmes jumped off the roof of New London Hospital. Two months ago, he walked into John's clinic as if no time had passed at all. John hasn't seen him since. But then Sherlock knocks on John's door with a case he can't say no to, and while figuring out why the biggest manufacturer or synthetic limbs in the System is going after veterans, they also need to find out whether there's a way to fix what's broken between them.

stirringofbirds between my arms by NotusLethe (18K, E, Johnlock, Enola/Tewksbury) Over the years, John Watson gets to know his new flatmate, Sherlock Holmes, and the man's clever ward. [Enola Holmes]

Stretch by illwick (13K, E, Johnlock) Sometimes the lines get blurry. [Part 35 of a BDSM established relationship series]

The Adventure of The Reluctant Docent by mydogwatson (23K, T, Johnlock) Someone is killing the docents of London. Sherlock is on the case when he meets a very interesting docent.

The Case of the Freudian Dick Pic Slip by expoduck (11K, E, Johnlock) John accidentally sends Sherlock a dick pic he'd intended for another man.

The Mystery of the Missing Metallurgist by rudbeckia (14K, M, Johnlock) A young wife engages Holmes to find her missing husband. Lestrade thinks the man has absconded to America, but Holmes rises to the challenge of Proving Lestrade Wrong. The case turns out to be far more complex and dangerous than they first thought, and Holmes sends Watson to secure Lestrade’s help in bringing a criminal gang to justice. When Holmes gets injured, Watson realises where his heart lies and a little lighthearted banter leads to a tentative confession. [ACD]

The Silence Between the Notes by J_Baillier (44K, M, Johnlock, Viclock) Lieutenant John Watson's days in London are painted in shades of grey after losing both his military career and his family. Could an unexpected request to travel to Vienna to track down the errant son of a wealthy family break the monotony?

The Wizard of Baker Street by Calais_Reno (23K, T, Johnlock) In which Sherlock is a wizard under a curse and John spends a lot of time as a cat.

‘tis the damn season by chrysanthemumsies (22K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock and John travel to Edinburgh to catch a homophobic serial killer in time for Christmas. They figure out how to use their words, more or less.

Trapezoid by SilentAuror (27K, E, Johnlock, OMC/ OMC) Corey Graham invites John and Sherlock to visit L.A. to consult on a project… at least, officially.

Yorkshire by lurikko (8K, E, Johnlock) They're in Yorkshire, in a house in the moors, for a case, only Sherlock keeps touching John. [Omegaverse]

[weast-of-eden]

it seems like some people actually liked my last fic rec, so here's another one, guys! this time i tried finding some fics that were a little different, like AUs, different POVs, rarepairs, WIPs, etc. again, these are pretty all set in canonverse (ACD or Granada) or victorian era unless specified otherwise. so without further ado, here is:

Eden’s ACD/Granada Unique Fic Recommendations

And With Him Disaster by eggshellseas (@/maxwelljacobfriedman on tumblr) 14k | Rated E Summary: John Watson is being stalked by a vampire. Notes: not-your-mother's vampire au, that's for sure. definitely read the tags before getting into this but man, this fic is so, so good. features not only vampire!holmes but also dark!holmes and it's a ride from beginning to end. ugh i want to talk more about this fic but i can't spoil anything!!

Into darkness then without a candle by Solshine (@/thehumantrampoline on tumblr) 10k | Rated T Summary: At first, Moriarty is just a disguise, like all the rest in his wardrobe; a helpful alias to bring Holmes closer to the evils he duels. And then the disguise wins at the Reichenbach Falls. AU inspired by the stage play, “The Secret of Sherlock Holmes." Notes: i can't even get into this. I CAN'T EVEN GET INTO THISSSS. there are no words. if there were, the word would be: UGH. this is such a unique fic and watson really pulls through in this. I CAN'T EVEN GET INTO THIS RIGHT NOW.

Back to Edinburgh by mightymads 4k | Rated T Summary: The Jezail bullet in Watson’s leg causes him so much pain that he is on the verge of despair. London doctors deem it impossible to extract the bullet without inevitable nerve damage. Holmes finds a surgeon in Edinburgh, who agrees to help. It is none other than Professor Joseph Bell. Notes: Dr. Bell says 'gay rights'! also Scottish Watson for the win! this is such a beautiful story, Watson really gets to take the center stage while Holmes gets to worry for his well-being. oh how the tables have turned. plus lots of ACD's personal life mixed with Watson's own, which I think makes this such a unique fic. it's just really nice to read. *chef's kiss*

The Red Notebook by Garonne 10k | Rated T Summary: Holmes is dead, or seems to be. Watson starts to write, and Mycroft starts to read. Holmes/Watson slash set during the Hiatus. Mycroft's POV. Notes: i LOVE Mycroft POVs, and this is one of my favorites. also i love fics that depict watson's stories as completely false, like Moriarty is not real and 'The Final Problem' was just john's way of coping. STELLAR FIC.

Some Power of Selection by wordybirdy 12k | Rated E Summary: John Watson is a struggling doctor in recent practice on London's Upper Wimpole Street. One dreary Wednesday, an urgent telegram summons him to 221B Baker Street, where he meets a sombre and initially taciturn gentleman by the name of Sherlock Holmes. Sparks immediately fly – but not of the positive, life-affirming variety... Notes: enemies to lovers AU for the win! Stamford is such a knob in this one, truly. but that's okay, our heroes figure themselves out anyways. great banter in this one, if you like rom-coms then this is the fic for you!

One Page Is Missing by PlaidAdder 2k | Rated T Summary: "From this point onward I will follow the course of events by transcribing my own letters to Mr. Sherlock Holmes which lie before me on the table. One page is missing, but otherwise they are exactly as written and show my feelings and suspicions of the moment more accurately than my memory, clear as it is upon these tragic events, can possibly do." --The Hound of the Baskervilles, Chapter 8 **** This is the missing page. Notes: ok first of all you should read all of PlaidAdder’s Missing Pages series, it’s so beautifully written. this is the first of the series and the premise is so interesting and mysterious! this fic is for any fans of HOUN (me) or enjoyers of jealous Holmes (also me)

On the Orbits of Asteroids by Sheila_Snow 22k | Rated E Summary: Watson has a secret from his past that he's kept from Holmes, but the past has a tendency to come back and haunt you. Notes: Watson/Moriarty fic. yes you read that correctly and YES it's crazy good. there's still holmes/watson but it's angsty and– i can't even get into it, you just gotta read for yourself. also feat. Moran who is currently questioning his sexuality (yeah watson will do that to you mate)

The Better Part of Valour by rachelindeed 7k | Rated T Summary: Mr Melas considers himself a coward, but more than one man's courage comes with complicated cracks. Notes: for any fans of 'The Greek Interpreter' (aka ME) this fic is the coolest ever. POV from Melas, who is smart, witty, and very observant. you get to meet Paul Kratides when he's not in the middle of being tortured, plus the ANGSTIEST background story about Watson's war injury. Oof. But I literally love this fic guys pwease read it

☆The Adventure of the Purloined Heart by ladyblahblah (@/hungrylikethewolfie on tumblr) 15k | Rated M Summary: A gruesome murder unveils secrets kept buried for years. Some feelings can only be hidden for so long. Notes: This fic checks every single box for me. HOLY SHIT. It's got murder, mystery, intrigue; it's got pining, secrets, and unrequited (?) love. I think the reason I'm so unwell about this fic is because it's a WIP that ends on a doozy of a cliffhanger. if god loves me he will let this fic be finished one day. IT'S SO GOOD GUYS PLEASE READ THIS FIC. in my ao3 history is says 'visited 12 times in the past month.' what is wrong with me

i hope someone out there enjoys these! also i was going to tag the authors whose tumblrs i knew, but then i chickened out, so... sue me i guess?

also if there’s any AUs, tropes, or somesuch fics you wish existed but can’t find, feel free to ask me!! maybe i’ve read something you’re looking for :)

[topsyturvy-turtely]

an almost whisper

prompt "whisper" by @onesmallfamily

highly inspired by this gif by @phoenix27884:

a/n: hey! i wanted to at least do ONE prompt of the 30 day sherlock september challenge. here is my ficlet of yesterday, because seriously- i fell asleep while writing it 😅

ps: so sorry bout the no uppercase letters, as said i was very tired for half of this (and lazy for the second)

○◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠○

sherlock was sitting across from him. from john watson. what a gorgeous man he was. gray silky hair - combed back, a dark blue jumper that looked ridiculously endearing on him... his doctor hadn't had time to shave this morning and sherlock was currently trying to gauge how many colour shades you could see in john's beard. one, two, three...

the beard moved. well not the beard itself but the lips that sat between the beard.

what would it feel like to-

"sherlock, did you hear me?"

the asked man raised his eyebrows. had he heard him? "still caught up on the case, i fear."

"you solved it. what's there to think about?"

his john. asking just the right questions. unfortunately they were rather uncomfortable right this moment, considering sherlock had been thinking about and staring at john's facial hair...

topic change. "how was dinner?"

"delicious. pity you didn't have any."

"eating..."

"... slows you down, i know, i know.", john said, but there was an amused grin on his lips. for some reason sherlock had to look away to catch himself. john smiling at him like that, it did something to him. something that hits way further inside than just into his heart.

he sensed john leaning back and stretching his face up to the sun. sherlock simply had to turn his gaze back onto him. the sun highlighted the few blond strands left and the red undertone in john's beard... it accentuated the wrinkles, that sherlock loved, because they reflect just how real john is. the detective then realized he was staring again and looked away. pretending to focus on the people around him, maybe deducing them. in reality every sense was directed at john. he heard him move, sensed his body being closer to his, smelt a hint of the coffee john had drunk, saw him putting his chin into his hand out of the corner of his eye.

he felt john staring now. sherlock decided it was safe to glare back at him. and was swept off his feet, well he was sitting, but he was still overwhelmed by john's expression. there was so much adoration, fascination and out of a lack of better words - love in his eyes.

sherlock had to smile back at him. he felt his face getting hotter. john - without saying a word - made him feel special.

john's gaze never left his and then exclaimed, barely above a whisper, "i'd like to kiss you." it was out of the blue, but it felt like the perfect timing.

what happened next felt natural, like they were actors who were acting according to a script: sherlock stood up leaned over the small table and placed his lips on john's.

the kiss was over soon, but they both knew it was just the first of uncountables.

a smile, a hand sneaking into his, looks speaking more than words.

on that day just like that, with that tiny almost-whisper and their promising first kiss they stopped being augend and addend and began being a sum.

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

[dross-the-fish]

So, since Adam is such a long-lived being, he'd be doomed to vastly outlive almost anyone he ended up in a long-term relationship with, right? How would he handle the inevitability of that?

"Life, although it may only be an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me..." - The Creature

at 130 he's not naive about mortality anymore and he feels the impermanence of everyone around him. After a time he grows to accept it. He knows Watson will not be with him long so he continues to stay with Watson and becomes his caretaker in old age. He keeps contact with each of his other friends for as long as he has them and mourns them when they are gone. As much as it pains him he treasures the heartbreak too because he has learned that grief is part of love and he understands, after the first loss of someone who was truly a loved one, just how much pain he inflicted on Victor. In a way experiencing that loss for himself brings him a sense of closure over Victor that he hadn't had before. Where he once hated humanity for their rejection of him he learns to love them again, and despite knowing that relationships will be fleeting he continues to seek them out and cherish them for the time he has no matter how short it is.

[witchofhellridge]

Fanfiction: Sherlock Holmes and The Case of Curious Celebration

The early morning sunlight filtered through the foggy London air, casting a soft glow over 221B Baker Street. Inside the cozy apartment, Mrs. Hudson hummed to herself as she set the kettle on the stove. Today was no ordinary day, though it would take a man of Sherlock Holmes' peculiar genius to uncover that. Mrs. Hudson was not in her usual quiet mood-no, today she was brimming with the kind of secret anticipation reserved for grand schemes.

Watson descended the stairs, a small grin tugging at his lips. He entered the kitchen and nodded to Mrs. Hudson, whose conspiratorial smile grew wide as she handed him a cup of tea.

"All set, Mrs. Hudson?" Watson whispered, his eyes twinkling.

She gave an enthusiastic nod. "Everything is prepared. Oh, Dr. Watson, do you think he'll notice right away?"

Watson chuckled softly. "Sherlock? He'll suspect something in ten minutes, no doubt. But if we play it right, we might still catch him by surprise."

"Goodness me, I do hope so," Mrs. Hudson said, her voice a tad breathless. "He's never celebrated a birthday before, has he?"

"Not that I know of," Watson replied, sipping his tea. "And believe me, I've tried. He insists it's frivolous, but I have a feeling this might finally break his icy demeanor."

They both shared a knowing glance. The plan had been laid out over the past week with meticulous care, worthy of Holmes' own standards of precision and planning. Small puzzles scattered about the apartment would lead him to his inevitable fate: a birthday celebration, whether he liked it or not. Each clue would seem disconnected, but they would all converge in one unexpected conclusion.

Watson placed his cup down and stood straight. "It's time."

As if on cue, Sherlock Holmes emerged from his room upstairs, his dressing gown flaring like a cape behind him. His sharp eyes darted from Watson to Mrs. Hudson, instantly detecting the shift in atmosphere. He narrowed his gaze suspiciously, but said nothing as he walked past them, heading for the sitting room.

"Morning, Sherlock!" Watson said, trying to sound as casual as possible. "I trust you slept well?"

Sherlock paused mid-step, tilting his head slightly. "A strange question, Watson. What are you up to?"

"Me? Up to something? I'm insulted," Watson replied with feigned indignation. He busied himself by picking up a medical journal from the armchair and flipping it open, though he could feel Sherlock's piercing gaze upon him.

Mrs. Hudson, clearly struggling to maintain her composure, excused herself in a flurry. "Oh, I must fetch something from the kitchen!" she called over her shoulder as she practically bolted from the room.

Sherlock arched an eyebrow. "Suspicious," he muttered, folding his arms. "Very suspicious indeed."

Before Sherlock could probe further, a knock came at the door.

"Ah, that must be the post!" Watson said, leaping up a little too eagerly. Sherlock's eyes narrowed again. Watson's behavior was off-unnaturally chipper and too quick to act. Sherlock moved to the window, peering through the curtains as Watson retrieved the letter.

"How curious," Watson said, holding up the envelope. "It's addressed to you, Sherlock."

Holmes strode over, snatched the letter from Watson's hand, and examined it with keen interest. The envelope was plain, save for a rather smudged postmark, and the handwriting was unfamiliar. Sherlock opened it swiftly, eyes darting over the note inside. His brow furrowed.

"Interesting," he muttered. "A riddle."

Watson leaned in. "What does it say?"

Sherlock read aloud: "'What is seen once in a lifetime, twice in a moment, but never in a hundred years?'"

Watson feigned a thoughtful expression. "A curious puzzle, Sherlock."

"It's an elementary riddle," Sherlock replied, his tone clipped. "The answer is the letter 'M.' But why would someone bother sending me such a trivial thing?" He tapped the note against his palm, looking perplexed. "I despise this kind of petty amusement."

Watson suppressed a grin. The game was already afoot.

Holmes, never one to leave any mystery unsolved, was already turning the letter over, searching for more clues. A small slip of paper fell from the envelope, and Sherlock caught it with practiced ease.

"There's more," he murmured, unfolding the scrap of paper. "An address."

It led to a small shop not far from Baker Street. Sherlock's eyes gleamed with curiosity, though he would never admit it outright. Before Watson could utter another word, Sherlock was already reaching for his coat.

"Are you coming, Watson, or are you going to sit there all day with that insufferable smirk on your face?"

Watson hurried to his feet, grabbing his own coat. "Of course, Sherlock. Wouldn't miss it."

***

The small shop turned out to be an antiquarian's curiosity, filled with trinkets and oddities, the sort of place where one might stumble upon a forgotten treasure-or an elaborate prank. The bell above the door jingled as they entered, and a wizened old man looked up from behind the counter.

"Ah, Mr. Holmes," the shopkeeper said with a crooked smile. "I've been expecting you."

"Have you now?" Sherlock asked, his tone icy. "And why might that be?"

The old man chuckled and reached under the counter, producing a small box wrapped in brown paper. "This arrived for you early this morning. Special delivery."

Holmes took the package without hesitation and tore away the paper. Inside was another note, this one much more cryptic than the last: "From the place where the hands of time do not move, look beneath what has long since passed."

Sherlock's eyes flickered with intrigue, though he kept his face impassive. Watson could see the gears turning in his friend's mind.

"Watson, we're going back to Baker Street," Sherlock declared, his voice sharp. "I know where this leads." ***

Back at 221B Baker Street, Sherlock wasted no time. He moved with precision, scanning the room until his eyes settled on the old grandfather clock by the window. With swift movements, he pulled it away from the wall, revealing a dusty ledger hidden beneath. Inside the ledger was a third note: "The key is hidden where stories are spun, and the game is won."

"Stories are spun?" Sherlock muttered, his brow furrowing. "The answer must be the bookshelf." He crossed the room in quick strides, running his fingers along the spines of the volumes. His hand paused over one particular book-an anthology of old folktales. He tugged it free, and from the pages, a small brass key dropped into his hand.

"Another key," he said, holding it up to the light. "But to what?"

Watson, leaning against the mantel, did his best to suppress his amusement. "What do you think, Sherlock? Where could it possibly lead?"

Sherlock shot him a sharp glance, then pocketed the key. "It's time to solve this. There's only one place left to check."

Without further explanation, he strode upstairs to his own room. Watson followed, heart racing in anticipation.

Inside Sherlock's bedroom, the detective immediately approached his locked trunk, where he kept various personal effects and important case documents. The brass key fit perfectly in the lock, and with a twist, the trunk popped open.

Inside, to Sherlock's visible confusion, was a cake. A cake adorned with candles and a small note tucked into the icing that read: "Happy Birthday, Sherlock!"

Watson, unable to hold back his laughter any longer, clapped Sherlock on the shoulder. "Surprise!"

Sherlock blinked, staring at the cake as if it were a bomb waiting to explode. "A... cake?"

Mrs. Hudson appeared in the doorway, beaming. "Oh, Mr. Holmes, I do hope you're not too cross. It's just that we thought-"

Sherlock held up a hand, silencing her mid-sentence. He looked from the cake to Watson, then back to Mrs. Hudson. "You planned all of this?"

Watson nodded. "It was Mrs. Hudson's idea, really. I merely assisted. A little birthday surprise, Sherlock."

For a moment, Sherlock stood in stunned silence, as if his mind were processing the concept of a birthday celebration. Then, to Watson's great astonishment, Sherlock let out a small, reluctant chuckle.

"I see," he said, though his voice still held a trace of bemusement. "So this entire day-the riddles, the clues-they were all leading to this?"

"Precisely," Watson said, smiling. "Happy Birthday, Sherlock."

Sherlock sighed, but there was a softness in his expression, a faint gleam in his eyes. "You know, Watson," he said, picking up a fork and examining the cake with the same scrutiny he would reserve for a crime scene, "I think I despise birthdays a little less now."

And with that, Sherlock Holmes, the greatest detective in London, took a bite of cake, much to Mrs. Hudson's and Watson's delight.

[meetinginsamarra]

mayprompts2024 #5, awkward

Read part one (using the prompt “box”) here

Read part two (using the prompt “familiar”) here

Read part three (using the prompt “fall”) here

++++++

Some of you anticipated or suggested this or possibly wished it to happen and with today’s prompt, well, it was sort of inevitable really.

Time for some (sort of) testing! Here we go…

++++++

The Perfect Place - Part Four

“Ah, I see.” John nodded wisely.

(John did not. But he supposed a successful salesman should never ever admit that he had not understood one word of what the client had said.)

Sherlock hummed appreciatingly. John is so clever, he thought, understanding me even I don’t.

“Position in, erm,” John fake-cleared his throat, “of the bed is very important.”

John scratched his neck. God, this was so awkward. All these verbal slips. Thankfully the customer wasn’t fazed by his terrible blundering. Maybe he hadn’t even heard because he was currently focusing on stroking his right hand lovingly over the silky covering of the bed. Up and down. In circles, too.

Sherlock sighed. “It’s so smooth.” (Wishing he could be able to stroke the skin on John’s neck.) “I like how it feels,” he added and wondered if John would be this soft as well.

John, jealous of the bed once more, wished he could swap places with the lucky furniture. The beautiful man caressed its fabric as if it carried a lover’s skin.

Suddenly the client stiffened the index and middle finger of his right hand and forcefully stabbed them into the mattress. Multiple times.

The boxsprings creaked a tiny little bit. The sound was deafeningly loud in the silence of the bed shop.

Both men stared transfixed at the moving fingers, deeply lost in thought. How seamlessly they glided in and out of the mattress. And in. And out again.

(Actually, they were both thinking about lube. Albeit being applied in different scenarios.)

“It’s delightfully rigid.” Sherlock panted a bit due to the physical exertion. (It was a mental one, in fact.) “But the creaking of the boxsprings could be bothersome when I turn around in the bed.” (Meaning while having sex.)

“Does your bed often creak when you turn in it?” New beads of sweat had formed on John’s fore head. (Having imagined turning in snych with the customer.)

Looking down, John realized that he had also mimicked the gesture, as in stiffening two of his fingers while stabbing at the air. (His hand had been perfectly steady while doing so.)

John quickly shoved his hand in the pocket of his trousers in an effort to hide the evidence. (What his still rigid fingers found in there was some other kind of evidence.)

“I’m versatile in my positions.” Sherlock blinked, slightly confused. Was that the correct answer to John’s question? (To be clear, Sherlock did not lie. He was versatile in bed. Verily so.)

John coughed. “Yes, well, that’s only a matter of choosing the correct set of boxsprings according to the distribution of body weight on the mattress.”

John congratulated himself on coming up with this brilliant answer. Being alert in tight situations had always been his forte. (Inside his trousers John was alert and tight, too.) It sounded absolutely logical and also offered him a most welcome opening to finally ask the question that had burned on his tongue for some time.

“Would there usually be more than one person using this bed on a daily basis?” Oh yes, very smart and artful like the good old Three-Continents-Watson, John mentally patted himself on the shoulder.

Staring at John, Sherlock said, “No, currently it’s just me.” (Hoping this would change soon.)

Feeling bold about heading into the right direction, John risked inquiring further and took a dare. “You don’t have a boyfriend, then? Which is fine by the way.”

“I know it’s fine.” Sherlock huffed, “Or it would be if I had one.” Like you, Sherlock added in his mind.

The first bead of sweat finally dripped off John’s fore head. He felt hot (and bothered) and a wave of intense longing threatened to wash him away. Let me be the one, he pleaded internally.

+++++

tagging some people @calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @lisbeth-kk @peanitbear @raina-at

[mariana-oconnor]

The Final Problem pt 2

Last time, Holmes turned up at Watson's home having survived three attempts on his life and a mysterious meeting with ex-Professor Moriarty, and invited Watson on an impromptu trip abroad. Watson, of course, said yes. I am absolutely sure that nothing bad is going to happen to either them. Definitely not in Switzerland. Maybe they'll see a nice waterfall, though. I've heard Switzerland is beautiful this time of year.

Watson does very well at remembering Holmes' instructions. I would not be able to do that.

I spent a few minutes in assisting a venerable Italian priest, who was endeavouring to make a porter understand, in his broken English, that his luggage was to be booked through to Paris.

Is Holmes pretending to be an Italian priest? I feel like Watson should be more aware of the possibility of a disguise.

Also, the fact it turns out that Watson's Italian is terrible. Holmes totally chose that disguise to troll the fuck out of him. A+ friendship move, even when running for his life.

"My dear Watson," said a voice, "you have not even condescended to say good-morning."

Yeah, so rude. How dare you not say hello to your friend who is clearly sitting right there and not at all an Italian priest.

"They set fire to our rooms last night. No great harm was done."

First: how dare! Baker Street, my beloved! Second: despite the fact that it has been clearly established in part 1 that Watson is very married and very living with his wife rn, Holmes still refers to them as 'our rooms'.

"It was my brother Mycroft. It is an advantage to get about in such a case without taking a mercenary into your confidence."

OK, so he did appear in this story... actually doing something for once. This is a clear sign that things must be dire if Mycroft has pried his seal-like form from his well worn chair in the Diogenes Club to drive a carriage through the streets of London. Honestly, I feel like there should be a system of measurement for direness that is purely how much Mycroft is willing to move to deal with it.

"As this is an express, and as the boat runs in connection with it, I should think we have shaken him off very effectively."

Because this goes directly to one place and then that goes directly to another place, both of which are official and easily discovered by looking at a timetable, clearly we have escaped the people pursuing us. They will never catch us now!

Watson? I get what you're saying. But please think through the logic a little bit more.

"In the meantime we shall treat ourselves to a couple of carpet-bags, encourage the manufactures of the countries through which we travel, and make our way at our leisure into Switzerland, via Luxembourg and Basle."

Nothing bad ever happens in Switzerland.

"There are limits, you see, to our friend's intelligence. It would have been a coup-de-matre had he deduced what I would deduce and acted accordingly."

We're only playing 3 dimensional chess today, not 4 dimensional. I did wonder.

"I might have known it!" he groaned. "He has escaped!"

He did know you were coming for him. And when... Like. If I knew I was going to be arrested for a certain thing at a certain time, I'd make sure to be somewhere else, too, and I don't claim to be a criminal mastermind. Honestly, this seems inevitable.

"I should certainly recommend you to return to your practice."

Does Watson still have a practice? At what point does it become his neighbour's practice? Will his patients even recognise him?

For a charming week we wandered up the Valley of the Rhone, and then, branching off at Leuk, we made our way over the Gemmi Pass, still deep in snow, and so, by way of Interlaken, to Meiringen.

This is the literary equivalent of elevator music.

Doo do doo do dooo dodoododoo doo do doo do dooo dodoododoo

In an instant Holmes had raced up on to the ridge, and, standing upon a lofty pinnacle, craned his neck in every direction.

We had strict injunctions, however, on no account to pass the falls of Reichenbach, which are about half-way up the hill, without making a small detour to see them.

They sound lovely. Excellent place for a picnic lunch. Clearly nothing bad could happen there.

Although little sus whoever told them that they absolutely had to go see them. Hm?

It is indeed, a fearful place. The torrent, swollen by the melting snow, plunges into a tremendous abyss, from which the spray rolls up like the smoke from a burning house. The shaft into which the river hurls itself is an immense chasm, lined by glistening coal-black rock, and narrowing into a creaming, boiling pit of incalculable depth, which brims over and shoots the stream onward over its jagged lip.

Delightful. 10/10 would visit again. Love how it's described as being 'half-way up the hill', then 'TREMENDOUS ABYSS'. I know this is Watson's PTSD speaking, but the tonal whiplash is getting me, ngl.

We had turned to do so, when we saw a Swiss lad come running along it with a letter in his hand. It bore the mark of the hotel which we had just left, and was addressed to me by the landlord.

...the die is cast, the scene is set...

The appeal was one which could not be ignored. It was impossible to refuse the request of a fellow-countrywoman dying in a strange land.

Almost like it was... designed...

Along this a man was, I remember, walking very rapidly.

There was Holmes's Alpine-stock still leaning against the rock by which I had left him. But there was no sign of him, and it was in vain that I shouted. My only answer was my own voice reverberating in a rolling echo from the cliffs around me.

Well, I certainly didn't see that one coming.

Seriously, though. This is pretty heart-rending to actually think about. Watson just alone on the cliff side, screaming his friend's name into the tremendous abyss.

Then trying to apply Holmes' methods (because that's always gone so well before). Then finding the letter.

Strangely nice of Moriarty to let Holmes write the letter, but I suppose he thought that when he'd tossed Sherlock over the cliff he could just destroy it anyway.

An examination by experts leaves little doubt that a personal contest between the two men ended, as it could hardly fail to end in such a situation, in their reeling over, locked in each other's arms.

The inherent eroticism of plunging to your death with your nemesis, locked in each other's arms.

...him whom I shall ever regard as the best and the wisest man whom I have ever known.

Fs in the notes.

So... I guess that's the last one, then. No more Sherlock Holmes stories after that. Nope. Well, that was fun. Thanks Watson, sorry about your friend.

[labwebs]

@redhead-reporter asked: "one more, just one, pleeeeease? for your FIANCÉE?" mj grinned as she readjusted her phone in her hand and snapped a few more pictures of them, left palm pressed against his chest to show off her new ring. wow, she was really finding a way to work that word into EVERY sentence she uttered, wasn't she? and who could blame her - after all this time, all their highs and deep lows, they were ENGAGED. peter parker and mary jane watson were going to get MARRIED. "you gonna tell the OTHERS?" she asked gently, swiping through the dozens of photos on her screen to pick the best one. "or did they know before I did?" (tasm!pete)

Peter wasn't always comfortable on the other side of a camera, but for MJ... Well, for MJ he'd decided he'd do just about anything. Though it'd been something they'd talked about here and there, he hadn't known or predicted just how giddy finally asking that all-important question would make her. And that, more than anything else he could think of in his life recently, had made him so indescribably joyful. He knew he'd spend the rest of his life doing his best to make her feel loved and happy- and really he couldn't think of anything better. Even with the challenges he knew would probably be inevitable.

"Just Aunt May," Peter said, arm making its way around her shoulders as he snuggled in even closer to her on the (their?) couch. "And she only found out today, too, when I picked up the ring. Anyone else I figured even if I barely hinted at the idea you'd probably figure it out. Especially Eddie or Betty," he teased.

Social butterfly Peter Parker was not (and probably never would be), but his social circle had grown a little- or exponentially compared to where it'd been in years past. True it was mostly comprised of people MJ had introduced him to, but hey- small steps.

[gregorovitch-adler]

Intimacy

Just when I am in the middle of my speech, I hear some sniffing in the wedding hall. I look up. Everyone is tearing up. I see some people wipe their eyes with the serviettes.

Why? Did I do something wrong? No! I had spent the whole morning writing a speech for John's wedding.

Selecting and altering the words here and there carefully, with Lestrade's help, so that I would not give myself away in a room full of two hundred guests, about my true feelings for the groom.

And now everyone is crying. I messed it up, again.

It is just like the university days. I would say something with good intention, but without any filters, and everyone would interpret it the wrong way. They would distance themselves from me eventually. I would be left alone.

I knew I was going to be left alone anyway after tonight's reception and dance. That was inevitable. I hadn't expected the isolation to come so soon, though.

Perhaps everyone had picked up on my feelings for John. I had ruined the day with a slip up somewhere.

Breathing deeply, I square my shoulders and spit everything out.

"What's wrong? What happened? Why are you all doing that?" I turn to look at John, the only source of sanity in my life. "John?"

John looks up at me with tearful eyes. (No, please don't cry!)

"Did I do it wrong?" I ask again.

"Oh, Sherlock!" Mrs Hudson is tearful too.

Shit. She knew about us. Me. There was never an 'us'. She knew how I felt for John. Everyone obviously knows about my feelings now. Nobody can be so stupid.

Which means John does too, and now he is going to kick me out in the middle of the speech.

John screws his eyes shut and opens them again as he gets up from his seat.

"No, you didn't. Come here," he says and pulls me close before wrapping his arms around my back.

A huge round of applause erupts in the room. Everyone is cheering.

Unsure of what to do next, I awkwardly place an arm on his bicep.

John doesn't let go of me. He keeps holding on to me, and his hand goes up to curl around my nape. He holds me gently.

In this moment, I cannot help but notice the intimacy between us.

I'm not experienced in romantic relationships, but the way John keeps holding me with so many people watching, I feel even closer to him than I already did.

It's rather ironic that I feel this on his wedding day, with his wife watching us with a smile. But I can't help how I feel.

"I haven't finished yet," I say.

"Yeah; I know, I know," he replies and slowly lets me go.

I immediately feel the loss of his touch. I long for him to hold me forever.

I know this is irrational, so I pull out my phone again to continue with my best man speech.

I still have to take care of my words, should I accidentally reveal my heart in front of the man I love in public.

***

Prompt: Intimacy by @onesmallfamily

Sherlock September Challenge.

Tags: @helloliriels @topsyturvy-turtely @gaylilsherlock @lisbeth-kk @keirgreeneyes @lookingforlifeoutthere @peanitbear @a-victorian-girl @curlyjohnlock @calaisreno @missdeliadili @kettykika78 @jawnn-watson

[curlyjohnlock]

Tango Between Broken Hearts

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial

#FFF211: An Old Friend

Fandom: BBC SHERLOCK

Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Rosie Watson

Rating: G

Word count: 980

This is only a tiny glimpse of the whole story, and I will post this chapter and the next ones on my account on Ao3.

So much time had passed since John's forced farewell and, since then, they had never had a chance to untie their conflicts. And now Sherlock was finding himself grappling with feelings he’d never been able to disclose. As he walked through the street, he wondered if John sometimes felt seized by regret.

The evening fell on London, enveloping everything in such a melancholic atmosphere. He’d made a mistake trusting Mycroft, who said that returning to London would be good for his soul.

However, no matter how well Mycroft knew his brother, he wasn’t aware that John's absence had become an open wound in Sherlock's heart, making him incapable of moving on. Since that day in the hospital, Sherlock had never been the same.

As he walked through the familiar streets, Sherlock couldn't help but think that it had only taken a minute to shatter everything they had been. The drunk laughter, the daring escapes from the police, the cases, and all the challenges they had faced together now seemed like distant memories, buried in the depths of the ocean.

***

There had been four days now. No matter how much he looked for him, there was no sign of John. He had even phoned Mycroft, begging him to tell him where John was. But his devilish brother, with his inevitable slightly mischievous tone, said that all his favors had been repaid and he couldn't tell him anything. 

Sherlock hung up the call, growling with anger at his phone. A woman who was passing by turned around, frightened.

Sherlock had just put the phone in his pocket when he noticed his hands were shaking. Walking with uncertain steps, Sherlock approached the entrance of the park. The laughter and cheerful conversations of the children filled the air, creating a pleasant and joyful atmosphere around him.

Sherlock hesitated for a moment outside the metal gate, stopping to watch the children playing on the swings. Their laughter was rather contagious, but Sherlock wasn’t exactly in the right mood for such an atmosphere.

Sherlock’s gaze was drawn to a group of teenagers playing football in a corner. Among them, he couldn't help but notice a young boy with tousled blond hair. The boy's appearance bore a striking resemblance to a young John, bringing back a rush of memories. There were nights in which, between tears, he wished he could go back in time, to when he and John were younger, when they spent the days chasing criminals, and when Mrs Hudson scolded them for being late for dinner. 

As he continued walking on the pavement, Sherlock had to stop. There was this young girl with long blonde hair, who was now staring at him with her mouth wide open. It was quite clear that his presence astonished her. He stood in place, not fully understanding why she was staring at him like that. There was something in her… and he couldn’t believe his eyes. That was simply not possible. He carefully looked at her with his ice-colored eyes, trying to be one hundred percent sure it was her.  

“Do we know each other?” asked Sherlock, trying to hide the slight confusion that was pervading him.

The little girl seemed to be uncertain about how to respond. “You are… you are Sherlock!” she exclaimed in a high-pitched tone, not be able to hold back a smile.

Sherlock took a step back, surprised by the fact the girl seemed to know him. “Sherlock who?”

“Sherlock Holmes! The pirate that all pirates fear! My daddy always talks about you!”

Sherlock's heart shattered in his chest into a thousand pieces but, in his mind, the pieces of the puzzle came together. That was a pretty curious coincidence, since fate had brought them together ‌in that place.

That being said, he had returned to London with a specific goal, but he didn't expect that he would run into Rosie instead of John.

“My name is Rosie.” said the little girl, offering her right hand.

Sherlock crouched down to be at the same height level as her and shook it. “Last time I saw you, you still were a toddler. You've grown a lot.”

***

As they sat down on a bench, Rosie, who was still shivering with joy, said: “My daddy always says you're a great pirate and you've conquered all the oceans of the world!”

Sherlock tried to hold back a laugh, but he couldn’t help it. “Oh, is that it? Did your dad tell you that?”

The little girl enthusiastically nodded.

Sherlock smiled smugly. “Well, Rosie, I have to admit it. Your dad has a wild imagination. And, for the record, I'm a detective, not a pirate." 

The little girl frowned slightly. The idea of ​​John telling her daughter bed night stories about pirates was rather amusing. And he was even the main character of those adventures. 

As Sherlock and Rosie continued the conversation, a shadow fell over Sherlock. The man looked up and saw John before him. His face was pale, and it almost looked like he was about to have a stroke.

Sherlock stopped talking to Rosie and stood to his feet. 

“John…” Sherlock whispered, his heart pounding in his chest. 

Their eyes met, and a myriad of emotions passed between them. The Starbucks coffee that John was clutching flew and reached the ground with a thud. 

John's gaze was full of surprise, disbelief and a lot of anger, the same blind anger that had taken possession of him years before. A loud silence spread all over them, the past and the present collided in that very instant.

But before Sherlock could say any more, John took Rosie by the hand and pulled her away from Sherlock. 

Sherlock stood stunned in the middle of the park. “John, I’m back.” he said, his voice trembling. "I'm back!" he said again, with a more convincing tone.

“You shouldn't have come back!” thundered John, not even turning back to face him.

[icecreambeach]

i'm not fully convinced that holmes *knew* that it would harm watson in EMPT. because one of the things that makes holmes a nearly-superhero/supernatural character is ACD's insistence that he actually is Like That. like i could 100% believe that holmes honestly didn't know that faking his death for 3 years would hurt watson, or at least hurt him so deeply that holmes would come to regret his actions, or that even watson would request an apology. ESPECIALLY because holmes repeatedly demonstrates that he does not notice certain things when he is set upon his course. he probably believes that he was completely correct in all of his decisions leading up to Reichenbach and the three years after. i agree that "i had no idea you'd be so affected" is NOT an acceptable excuse for disappearing for three years without letting your closest friend know, but i WOULD believe that holmes genuinely didn't understand how much it would hurt watson. and, to stick to canon, watson ISN'T that upset. he faints because of the suddenness of holmes's reappearance, displays some irritation at not being included in the deception, but then seems to move on rather quickly. i'm not saying this is a realistic account of human feeling on ACD's behalf, but that is how it goes down. ALSO... i don't even think the effect is meant to be read as Coldness (if we're defining coldness as a lack of concern for the emotions of others.) i think it's just the zeal of someone who gets so carried away by their passion that they simply don't think about anything that isn't that. i don't think it implies that he doesn't care about watson. this is just the byproduct of having a brain like that. enthusiasm like that is a wave that drags everything else under. if anything, it implies a surplus of passion rather than a lack. it's more a question of his personal beliefs: what is more important to him in this moment? in ACD's case, i think the text itself argues that taking down moriarty was more important to holmes than preserving any feelings of watson, who—as holmes well knows by now—would probably inevitably forgive him anyway. and holmes probably thought he was keeping watson safe, too.

Holmes says, “I owe you a thousand apologies” twice in the Canon, The Empty House and The Dying Detective.

Holmes earnestly apologises twice in the Canon, in The Sign of the Four (pocket watch scene),

“My dear doctor,” he said kindly, “pray accept my apologies.”

and The Devil's Foot,

“It was an unjustifiable experiment even for one's self, and doubly so for a friend. I am really very sorry.”

In EMPT and DYIN, Holmes purposely lied to Watson, with the knowledge that it would harm him. (“I had no idea you'd be so affected” is no excuse!)

In SIGN and DEVI, they were honest (and careless) mistakes of Holmes's, and it's in those cases where he didn't mean to hurt, that he's willing to own up and apologise.

“I owe you a thousand apologies” simply has more distance to me than the direct “I am really very sorry.” While I wouldn't rule out that Holmes isn't sorry at all when he says this, I do think it's understandably much harder for him to take ownership of those actions. Either way, Watson understands Holmes's meaning; he'll forgive him anyway in time.

[topsyturvy-turtely]

Fluffbruary with turtely

Day 8

[day 7] [day 9]

prompts: grass | sunrise | fashion by @fluffbruary <3

fandom: BBC Sherlock

[source for the picture]

♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡

John was huddled beside Sherlock in the grass, which was damp from the morning dew.

"This wasn't in the flat mate bidding, you know.", he said with a yawn.

"There never was a flat mate bidding?", Sherlock replied and John had to grin because he could see Sherlock's confused facial expression without actually facing him.

"Well, no. But I doubt it would have said. 'I will also wake you at four A.M., so we can stake out the stalker of a famous fashion designer in Clampham Common."

Sherlock gave him a side glance, but didn't say anything.

"In the winter.", John continued.

Sherlock didn't respond.

"In what feels like 15 degrees below zero."

Still Sherlock kept his mouth shut. But John was freezing, bored and starting to get moody. He was talking to keep the boredom, cold and bad mood away.

"Why did you take that case anyways? Can't be more than a- what? Two?", John blew into his hands and rubbed them. The gloves did next to nothing.

"A bit more respect, please, John. This is Vivienne Westwood you are talking about."

John scoffed.

"Are you laughing at Vivi-"

"I am laughing at you, fancy pants."

"Oh. So now you are complaining about my trousers as we-"

"Not complaining at all, your arse looks delightful in all your trousers and you know that."

Sherlock smirked. He looked up. "Look.", he said, his voice suddenly sounding incredibly soft. "The sunrise."

John shifted his weight, little impressed by the pale-yellow sun, peeking through the fog. "Oh, how romantic.", he said sarcastically.

"Consider this your date of the month.", Sherlock countered cheekily.

John shook his head incredulously, "This is your idea of the date of the month?! You'll need to at least kiss me to count this ridiculously cold stakeout a fu-"

John's words where cut off by cold lips pressing against his. Immediately John pulled his boyfriend closer by his lapels. He opened his mouth to deepen the kiss when Sherlock pulled away. John just dragged him back.

"John-"

"Shut up, and keep kissing me. It was finally getting interesting."

"But the stalker! She just-"

"I said-", John grumbled while pressing his lips to Sherlock's. "Shut. Up."

John had apparently pushed too hard into Sherlock, who had been in the process of getting up, because the great detective fell in the damp grass and John crawled over him. "It's just getting interesting.", John smirked down at him.

Sherlock's gaze darkened. "Make it interesting then."

They did. Good thing the park wasn't busy at sunrise...

♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡

A/N: naughty bois 😏 this must have legitimately happened because i swear i didn't plan to write that...

and not to forget: Rest In Peace Vivienne Westwood. she used to live in London Clampham, which is why the two of them are in Clampham Common btw :)

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 @quickslvxr @macgyvershe @myladylyssa @johnlock2708 @battledress @a-victorian-girl

[atlanticcanada]

Life Changing Choice: A Liver for Karla – COVID-19 concerns hours ahead of surgery

EDITOR'S NOTE: This series was produced by veteran CTV Atlantic Anchor & Reporter Bruce Frisko, documenting his sister's successful liver transplant surgery in May of 2022. Karla Frisko found a match in Scott Watson, a co-worker who was inspired to sign up for living donor testing after hearing her story. Although liver transplants are performed across Canada, living donor programs are not available in some provinces.

It's the first of May 2022, and with the promise of spring ever closer, Edmontonians anticipate longer, warmer days after a long winter slumber.

A new beginning.

In an Airbnb in Southwest Edmonton, my sister, Karla Frisko, welcomes Scott Watson and his husband, Joe Connors, into the unit.

After exchanging hugs and acknowledging the television camera, Scott turns semi-serious, telling Karla he brought her a gift.

"I figured, 'You can never have enough napkins,'” he says, handing her a bundle with a mischievous smile.

Karla immediately begins to laugh, and displays the message on the package.

"Shut up, liver -- you're fine," it reads.

“That's good, right?" says Scott, laughing with everyone else.

The levity is appreciated, even necessary.

It's the eve of perhaps the biggest day in the lives of Karla Frisko and Scott Watson.

Approved for the transplant list in July of 2021, Karla waited months, hoping for a donor as her liver disease progressed to the inevitable.

Friends and family lined up for testing, but none proved suitable.

Discouraged, Karla mentioned it on a conference call at work, and Scott was inspired to put his name forward for testing.

The match was perfect.

The stunning act of generosity was made even more remarkable by the fact they hardly knew each other: co-workers at Sunlife Financial who'd never even met in person.

Now, though, with surgery scheduled first thing in the morning, a complication.

"Last night, Scott got a phone call from the University of Alberta to tell him that his COVID-19 test had come back 'indeterminate,'" said Karla. "And so, if he tests positive, that simply means our surgery is delayed."

It would be a crushing disappointment after the flurry of activity that got them to this point.

"This is our last day before we go in for a pretty major surgery -- a life-saving surgery," said Scott. "But also having to wait for that COVID-19 test to come back negative adds an extra layer of worry."

With surgical teams booked and the clock ticking down, there are fears COVID-19 could derail the plans, which feel serendipitous: Scott was born and spent his early years in Halifax, a city I've called home since 1995.

"All of my extended family, cousin and all of them still live in Halifax and Cape Breton," said Scott. "So, my story's made it back there, and it's starting to be shared on social media, through Facebook and other platforms, so it is becoming bigger than I ever expected it to be."

"And I'm from Newfoundland, and Newfoundlanders are quite proud of their own," added Joe Connors. "So, by proxy, they're quite proud of Scott and everything that's he's been going through right now."

After a couple of hours of small talk over coffee, the news finally comes in a text message.

"Negative! Negative COVID-19 test," said Scott. "PCR is good!"

"Karla, how do you feel about that?" I ask my sister.

"I'm super-excited," she says. "We're moving ahead."

And so they are, with both heading to hospital in just a few hours: one by chance, and one by choice.

A new beginning just ahead of the biggest day of their lives.

Keep an eye out for Part Two of Life-Changing Choice – A Liver for Karla, airing Tuesday on CTV News at Five.

from CTV News - Atlantic https://ift.tt/tA3mS2r