#and two bbc sherlock shirts

[renx01]

Out of Sight - Part 2

General idea: Moriarty is your boss. After he helped you out of a precarious situation when you were still a minor, you started working for him. Now, he has a new job for you. Get close to the Holmes brothers to keep an eye on them for him. Pairing: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Mycroft Holmes/Reader  & Jim Moriarty/Reader Fandom: BBC Sherlock Word count: 1264

Masterlist

The following morning you woke up early and got the tube to Scotland Yard, where you were introduced to Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade and his team. ‘This is Charlie Moore, they’ve been transferred from our department in Manchester to assist us with the rise in murders that seem to be connected.’ He looks at you and urges you to introduce yourself. ‘Ah yes of course. I’m Charlie, as DI Lestrade just said. I’m originally from Sussex but moved to Manchester for university and work. I look forward to working with all of you here in London.’ You flash them a small smile and stand up a little straighter.

Anderson immediately approaches you, Donnovan following closely behind. ‘Nice to meet you Charlie. I hope you’ll help us solve more of our own cases.’ The woman laughs at the man’s comment. ‘That’s why I’m here, yes.’ You’re already annoyed, there really wasn’t much going on in their heads. It is also clear that their affair is very much still going on. ‘Just a warning, Sherlock Holmes likes to come to our crime scenes and interrupt or take the case for himself. I recommend you stay away from him, he’s a bit of a freak.’ You take a sip of your coffee. ‘I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.’ The urge to make a snarky comment or deduce them on the spot was strong, yet you know you have to be nice, for now. You’re quiet as they start talking to each other and eventually you turn to leave and sit at your desk. Since it’s your first day, most of it is spent making sure all the ICT works, having your work phone and laptop set up and ready for you. About halfway through, you see Sherlock barging into Lestrade’s office. Of course, John follows behind. There’s some hand waving and what looks like a passionate speech from Sherlock about a case. Strategically, you decide it’s time for another cup of coffee. You straighten your shirt but leave your suit jacket draped over your chair. When Sherlock and John leave the office after a good few minutes of the DI and sociopath arguing, the doctor notices you. ‘Hi Charlie, how’s it going?’ Scanning over his form, you notice he’ll be going on a date tonight. ‘I’m well, thanks. How’s the case getting along?’ Sherlock interjects himself and answers before his friend can. ‘It’s going well. From the evidence it is quite easy to dissect that the uncle is the one that killed his nephew. Probably something to do with the inheritance of a relative. He tried to make it look like an accident though.’ You nod. It had been clear to you that that was the case when you first saw the pictures of the crime scene. ‘Quite a boring case for you then, is it not?’ John looks at you confused while Sherlock takes the opportunity to go on a tangent about which cases are interesting and which aren’t. To be fair, it is quite amusing seeing him talk so passionately. ‘Yes quite. These sort of cases are soooooooo normal nowadays, it’s almost expected to be some sort of familial issue when there’s a singular murder that doesn’t seem to be related to anything.’ John looks uncomfortable. ‘I suppose it’s only normal for that to be the case, Sherlock. Looking at the statistics most murders involve a family member or friend, they’re rarely ever random.’ You comment. ‘I know.’ He groans. ‘Well, it was nice talking to you two, I have to get back to work though.’ You see Donnovan and Anderson look at you weirdly from the corner of your eye. ‘I’ll see you two later.’ John offers you an understanding smile while Sherlock just continues talking to the other man without saying goodbye to you. It’s what you had expected, you will have to slowly have him get accustomed to your presence in his life for him to properly acknowledge you, but you know that he has noticed you and finds you somewhat interesting. From your desk, you see John eventually drags Sherlock outside and into a cab. Probably so the detective finally goes and has some food.  Quickly you get back to work.

You decided it’d be best if you stayed for a bit of overtime so you could actually make a start at your job. Due to having to wait for clearance for some things and for all the computer systems to work, you hadn’t been able to do much early in the day. Around half past seven you decide it’s time to leave. Putting on your black trenchcoat, you walk out with your briefcase in hand. As you start walking to the tube station, you see a sleek black car pull up next to you. ‘Charlie Moore.’ The window at the front seat has been opened a little bit. ‘There’s someone that wishes to talk to you, would you please get into the car?’ You nod, turn on your heel and enter the car. While you had predicted for Mycroft to approach you, this was sooner than you had expected. It excites you, but you don’t show it. You’re driven to an empty shipyard, where you’re instructed to get out of the car. A few metres from the car, you see a man holding an umbrella at his side. ‘Good evening sir.’ You greet him as you approach. ‘Good evening.’ He holds out his hand for you to shake it, and you do. His grip is firm, but not too firm. ‘Charlie Moore. But you already knew that of course.’ A faint smile creeps onto his face. ‘Now, how can I help you?’ Your inquiry seems to surprise him a bit as you retract your hand from his. ‘I noticed you moved in below the famed Sherlock Holmes.’ The way the man pronounced famed sounded quite sarcastic. ‘I barely know him, I only moved in yesterday.’ His eyes meet yours. They have a light bluish hue to them. He holds your gaze for longer than you’d predicted. Good, I’ve got his attention. ‘Yet you can still help me.’ He pauses momentarily. ‘See, I’m an interested party,’ everything seems to be going according to plan, ‘that is willing to pay a considerable sum of money on a regular basis in exchange of information.’ Running your hand through your hair, you act as if you’re thinking about it carefully. ‘And why, if I may ask, are you so interested in mister Holmes?’ Your demeanour stays professional and calculated as the conversation continues. He’s already met John and the possibility of him seeing you in or around Baker street is quite significant, so you’re hoping he reveals his own identity. Things will be easier that way. ‘I may be more inclined to help you if I know who I’m dealing with.’ He looks to be thinking, but you know he’s already made up his mind. ‘I’m Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock’s brother.’ His voice holds some disdain. You arch an eyebrow, clearly he doesn’t tend to deal with emotions. ‘Alright, I’ll keep an eye on him, here’s my card.’ You grab one of the cards Jim had Seb make for you and your new persona. ‘How often do you suppose would be optimal for us to meet?’ He glances at his assistant. ‘I think biweekly will suffice.’ You nod and shake his hand. ‘I shall keep that in mind. Feel free to phone or text me about our next appointment.’  As you walk back to the car you only think one thing:

The game is on.

[alwaysonthemend]

The Nightcap | JMK

Author’s Note: This is the first fic I’ve written since my BBC Sherlock era so please bear with me. I’m a little nervous posting my writing after so much time but I also really want to get back into it because it’s so much fun! This is unbeta’d so all mistakes are my own. 

Summary: After leaving a party early, you and Josh head back to your place for a nightcap and a movie. Little do either of you know, things are about to heat up between the two of you. 

Content Warnings: Fem!reader, oral (f. receiving) hand jobs, p. in v. sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, folks!), swearing, minor sub Josh. 18+ MINORS DNI 

Word Count: 3499

Preview: 

He sat up from between your legs and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand – no doubt the most obscenely attractive thing you’d ever seen in your life.

“Holy fuck.” you breathed out, and Josh chuckled smugly at your blissed-out expression.

“Everyone always talks about a guitarist’s fingers…” He said with a wicked grin, “But no one ever talks about a vocalist’s tongue.”

“Cocky bastard.”

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

These parties always made you feel nervous. No matter how many of them you went to, you always felt slightly out of place and awkward. You barely know anyone here. You know the boys of course, having practically grown up alongside them, but it still felt too awkward to ask one of them to stay with you the whole time. You hadn’t even wanted to show up tonight, but Josh had seemed so disappointed when you said you might sit it out and so you’d relented and told him you’d at least come for a little while. Parties were his favorite after all.

The boys were abuzz with energy as you all made your way to the club downtown. They’d booked the whole place out and had invited practically all of their friends who lived nearby, along with a bunch of other people whom you had no idea who they even were. You’d made your rounds as you’d first arrived, saying hello to the few people you did know before making your way over to the bar to have a drink.

From your place at the bar, you could see just about everyone – it was far more packed than you had been expecting and definitely far louder than you were in the mood for. At this point, you were debating with yourself whether or not you should just get an Uber back to your house and call it a night. The day had been long, and this party wasn’t helping the headache mounting behind your eyes.

You rose from your seat, pulling out your phone to call an Uber when Josh slid up next to you, drink in hand.

“Hey y/n! What’s up?” His eyes were sparkling in the dim lighting of the club and his cheeks were pink from the excitement. He looked divine.

“Hey, Josh.” You smiled lightly, “I was just about to call an Uber actually. I’m a little tired and I just want to go to bed.”

His face fell slightly before his eyes furrowed in confusion.

“Why are you calling an Uber? Your place isn’t far, and I could drive you. An Uber would just be a waste of money.”

“That’s sweet of you to offer but I don’t mind paying for an Uber.” You gestured to the party going on around you. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to take you away from all this. You love parties!”

He gave you a toothy grin. He was wearing a low-cut V-neck shirt, and you could see the sweat on his chest glisten under the blue light of the club. He looked ethereal.

“Well yeah, I do. But I also would love to drive you back to your house. I wouldn’t mind. I promise.” He placed his glass on the bar and looked at you through his lashes. He looked sincere and you felt yourself caving.  

“Fine,” you conceded, “So long as you promise that you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all, mama. Come on!” You felt yourself blush at the nickname as you followed him out of the club and into the night air outside. The cold wind was a stark contrast to the stuffiness of the club, and you took a moment to breathe and feel the coolness on your cheeks. You and Josh made your way to his car, and he opened your door for you before getting in himself.

“Thank you again, Josh. You really didn’t have to take me home.” You said after a few moments of relaxed silence. Josh glanced at you for a moment, a soft look on his face, before turning his eyes back to the road.  

“It’s really no problem, y/n. I don’t mind.”

The two of you sat in comfortable silence, interrupted only by the soft sounds of Fleet Foxes floating out from the car’s speakers. This was why you liked Josh. As much as he always seemed to like to talk, he didn’t ever make you feel like you had to entertain or keep up a conversation for things to not be awkward. He was perfectly content to just sit in silence and enjoy another person’s company. You felt lucky that you got to see this side of him.

“I don’t know how you do it, Josh – go to all these parties all the time. I don’t understand how you find the energy to do it and never get tired.” You laughed, watching the lights of the city blur past your window. He chuckled.  

“I do get tired of it sometimes, I’m just a little better at hiding it.” He glanced at you again before continuing in a softer voice. “I didn’t really want to go tonight, actually. I was only going to go if you agreed to go, too.”

You looked at him, startled.

“Why? I’m not exactly the most fun person to be around at parties.”

“You’re very fun to be around, y/n. I love getting to spend extra time with you. I miss you when we’re on tour.” His honesty made your cheeks warm with embarrassment and you were having a hard time coming up with something to say in response.

“Well,” you said after a moment, “I love getting to spend time with you, too. I only showed up tonight because you asked.”

“I’m honored.” He laughed, his own cheeks tinged a little pink.

The rest of the drive passed in comfortable silence, and soon Josh was pulling into your driveway.

“M’lady.” He said with a dramatic flourish as he opened the car door for you again.

You giggled, taking the hand that he offered you as you stepped out of the car.

“Why thank you, my good sir.” You laughed. “Do you want to come in for a nightcap? I’ve got a bottle of wine calling my name right now if you’d like to join.”

He gave you a dazzling smile.

“That sounds amazing. Lead the way!”

The two of you made your way inside and Josh hooked his keys on the little hook on the wall before plopping down onto your sofa. You entered the kitchen, pulled two wine glasses from your cabinet, and placed them on the table. You grabbed the bottle of wine from your pantry, brought it over, and poured yourself and Josh a generous amount. He chuckled as he watched you fill the glasses. You put the bottle away before bringing them over to the sofa where Josh was sitting.

“Thanks for inviting me in, y/n. I really didn’t want to go back there. Far too loud for tonight.” He took a sip from his glass as you took a seat next to him.

“Consider it repayment for driving me home.” You took a sip from your own glass, reveling in the bitter taste on your tongue.

“Or maybe you’re just trying to spend more time with me.” He said with a sly grin.

“Hmm. Maybe. But you did accept my invitation so maybe you just wanted to spend extra time with me.”

He laughed softly. “Maybe so, y/n. Maybe so.”

Your heart rate picked up as he said the words and you brought your glass to your lips and took a large gulp to try and soothe the nerves away. Being alone with him like this, especially in your own house, was making your brain conjure up dangerous thoughts – thoughts that you usually tried to keep buried.

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” You asked in a desperate attempt to break the tension. Josh probably knew exactly what you were doing but went along with it.

“Sure! Did you have a certain one in mind?”

“You’re the film guy. You choose.”

He chuckled, placing his drink on the coffee table, and got up to turn off the lamp. He walked back, grabbing the remote as he sat back down. You placed your own drink down next to his and you settled back into the couch, pulling a blanket off the back and covering your lap and Josh’s as he chose one. You weren’t sure what he chose, but your mind became otherwise occupied as he leaned back, and his thigh and shoulder pressed into yours. The heat from him spread through you like the wine had, leaving you warm and relaxed. His scent flooding your nose coupled with the alcohol left you feeling far more at ease than you had been before.

The movie started and you really did try to pay attention – but all your mind could focus on was the feeling of him pressed against you. You stole occasional glances at him, trying to memorize how the soft glow from the TV accentuated his jawline and how his eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks. At some point, he brought his hand to rest on your knee, absent-mindedly tracing patterns there with his fingertips.

You did your best to keep your eyes focused on the screen and eventually, you found yourself being drawn into the story. At least, you had been for a little while until you felt Josh’s fingertips slowly ghost their way up higher on the inside of your thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You glanced at Josh, but his eyes were still glued to the screen. He probably hadn’t even realized that he’d done it.

You turned your attention back to the movie, but it wasn’t long before Josh’s touch went even higher – high enough that it couldn’t have been an accident.

“Josh?” You whispered, scared to break the silence; scared to acknowledge what was happening. 

He turned to look at you, eyes dark and glistening in the light of the TV. 

“Y/n,” he whispered, swiping his bottom lip with his tongue. Your eyes tracked the movement before sweeping back up to his eyes. “Please tell me I’m not reading into this wrong. Tell me you want this too.” He looked so nervous – a look you’d never really seen on him before. He was always so confident, so sure of himself; seeing him look at you that way made you ache to reach out and soothe him. This was like a damn dream come true. You’d dreamed about being with him like this. You’d just never thought he would ever be interested in someone like you. There were thousands upon thousands of women who would kill someone to be where you were now, and Josh could have any one of them if he wanted. But somehow it was you that he wanted. It was you that got to see him like this – so vulnerable, his desire reflected clearly in his eyes. 

You must have taken too long to answer though, as he pulled his hand quickly from your thigh and stood awkwardly from the sofa. 

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. I never should have assumed that-” 

You grabbed his wrist quickly, wrapping your fingers around him tightly. 

“Relax, Josh. You just surprised me, that’s all.”

He stared at you for a moment, his cheeks a bright red that you could see even in the dim light. 

“I’m so sorry, y/n. That was so rude of me.  I can leave. I won't ever bring this up again.” He made to pull his wrist from your hand, but you tighten your grip on him. 

“Josh,” you whispered, “I want this. I want you.” 

He stared at you, turning your words over in his mind. He looked divine, bathed in the light from the screen, his chest heaving with excitement. 

“You promise?” 

“I promise.” You say as you pull him back down onto the sofa. You scoot backwards, bringing your back flush to the armrest and spread your legs. “Come here, Josh. I want this.” 

He crawls his way over to you, sitting on his knees between your thighs. His eyes are even darker than before, and the redness of his cheeks was now painted down his chest as well. You stare at him, waiting. Your heart is pounding, heat flooding between your legs as you stare at him. 

“Can I kiss you?” He says, as he brings his palms to your thighs and leans over you, your chests flush against each other. You ghost your lips over his, feeling their softness. 

“Please do.” 

He brings his lips to yours in a searing kiss, immediately plunging his tongue between your lips in a greedy display of lust. You whine quietly as he licks his way into your mouth, and you bring your hands up to his face, cupping his cheeks between them. He presses his hips to yours and you can feel his cock straining through the fabric of his pants, and you can feel your own wetness soaking through your panties. You don’t remember the last time you were this turned on. You feel dizzy – drunk on lust and desire for the man on top of you. 

His lips leave yours and you chase them, but he brings them to your neck instead, pressing searing hot kisses down your throat. He pulls away briefly to pull your shirt over your head before returning his mouth to the hollow of your throat. Your hands move upwards, ghosting over the shaved sides of his head before tangling in his unruly curls. You give them a tug and he groans, nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck. 

“Do you like that, Josh? Like it when I pull your hair?” You ask breathlessly, tugging again at his hair. 

He moans again and you feel his cock twitch as he ruts himself against your clothed pussy. 

“Fuck, mama…” he breathes, tongue licking over the valley between your breasts as he brings his right hand to the waistband of your pants. He brings his mouth away from you as he pulls them off, groaning at the sight of your lace thong. You mentally high-five yourself for choosing to put them on that morning. 

“Can I taste you, y/n?” He looks up at you from underneath his lashes and you swear you’ve never seen something more sinful. His lips are red and swollen and his chest glistens with sweat. He looks absolutely ravished already. 

“Whatever you want, Joshy.” 

He gives you a wicked grin before lifting your hips to slide your panties down your thighs. He brings them to his nose and inhales, moaning at the scent before tossing them somewhere in the room. That action alone makes your pussy ache with need for him, and you can feel yourself practically vibrating with excitement and desire. 

He lowers his head between your thighs and swipes his tongue through your folds, lapping at the wetness collected there. You breathe out a stuttered breath and throw your head back, eyes closed tight. He repeats the action, this time swirling the tip of his tongue around your swollen clit. 

“Oh God!” you whine, completely lost in the sensations of his tongue.  

He chuckles, and the vibration leaves you feeling completely drunk on arousal. He continues his ministrations, and it isn't long before you feel that familiar coil tightening in your belly. He brings one hand to cup your chin, thrusting his middle and pointer fingers into your mouth. You suck on them obediently before he pulls them out and sinks them into you, never once stopping with his talented tongue. He curls his fingers inside you, brushing against the spot that few men had ever been able to find as he suckled on your clit and your orgasm tore through you like a tidal wave. Your vision whited out as your entire body shook and you let out a wail of Josh’s name. 

He sat up from between your legs and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand – no doubt the most obscenely attractive thing you’d ever seen in your life. 

“Holy fuck.” you breathed out, and Josh chuckled smugly at your blissed-out expression. 

“Everyone always talks about a guitarist’s fingers…” He said with a wicked grin. “But no one ever talks about a vocalist’s tongue.” 

“Cocky bastard.” You laugh, sitting up and reaching for his pants. You pull them off him, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. He tears his own shirt off his head and you take a moment to just look at him. You can see his cock still straining through his boxers and his chest is red and heaving. His chin is covered in your wetness. 

“You look divine.” You say, pushing him back into a sitting position. 

“Speak for yourself, darling.” He slides the straps of your bra down your shoulders and reaches behind you to unclip it with one hand. He uses his other hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You’re completely naked now, and Josh is staring at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You throw one leg over him, straddling his waist and grinding your pussy down on his cock. His hardness coupled with the roughness of the fabric of his boxers gives you the most delicious friction. He lets out a whine that’s like music to your ears. 

“I don’t have any condoms…” He mutters breathlessly, hands gripping your hips so hard they’ll probably leave bruises. 

“I’m clean. And I’m on birth control.” You say as you lean down to kiss him again. He moans as you bite his lower lip. 

“You sure?” He says, breaking the kiss to look up at you through hooded eyes. 

“Yes. Wanna feel you all the way.” You say as you pull his boxers down. He kicks them off and you take a moment to admire him. His head is an angry red and pearly droplets of precum leak from it. You scoot down lower on his thighs and spit into your hand before wrapping your fingers around his cock. He whines again and lets his head fall back onto the back of the couch. You pump up and down a few times, increasing your speed as you go. He lets out a breathy moan that sends shocks of arousal down into your pussy. You want nothing more than to sink down on him already, but you continue to jack him off with your hand. You want to see how far you can push him. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop.” He whines, lifting his head to stare at you. You chuckle and speed up your hand while you start to massage his balls with the other. 

“Mama…” he moans again, and you can feel his balls tighten. He’s about to cum so you squeeze your hand tightly around the base of his dick. He yelps and groans, hips pushing up to try and chase his release. 

“Not yet, baby. Want you to come inside me.” You let go of his cock and bring your own hand to your clit, flicking it a few times before sinking down on him. 

You both moan loudly as you bottom out and you feel like you could cum from the feeling of him stretching you alone. You sit still for a moment, adjusting to his size before you slowly start to rock your hips. He moans and slides his hands down to grip your ass, squeezing as you bounce up and down on him. 

“Fuck, y/n, you feel so good. So tight.” 

“You’re doing so good, Josh. Such a good boy for me.” You moan, picking up your pace. He groans and bucks his hips at the nickname. 

“You like when I call you a good boy?” 

“So much, mama. Wanna be your good boy.” He ruts his hips into yours, meeting you in the middle as you ride him. You can feel yourself right on the edge, but you want to see him cum first. 

“You are my good boy, Josh. You’re so fucking perfect. So needy. So good for me.” And with one final thrust into you, you feel him explode in you, painting your walls with his release. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. Holy shit.” He whines, and the sound of his needy moans coupled with the pleasure painted over his face brings you to your own release as well. The coil in your belly snaps for a second time and you moan his name as you ride out your orgasm. 

You rise off him, collapsing onto the sofa next to him. 

“Holy shit.” He laughs breathlessly. “You are something else, mama.” 

You laugh, turning over to kiss him softly. 

“So are you, baby. You were so good for me.” He smiles lazily at you, eyes now shining with something more than just lust. 

“I’m glad you invited me in.” 

You laughed loudly. 

“Me too.’’ You could feel the tendrils of sleep beginning to cloud your mind and you rose slowly from the couch. Josh looked up at you, his messy curls falling onto his forehead. You extended your hand toward him 

“Stay with me tonight?” 

He smiled softly at you and took your hand. 

“I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi!! I was hoping you could help me find a fic I read at least a year ago (maybe even two)

In this fic a massive snowstorm hits London and John and Sherlock are stuck at 221B. The heating is out, but Sherlock at first refuses to wear warm clothes and risks getting sick. John tries his best to safeguard Sherlock's health. The end up sharing a bed to keep themselves warm

It was one of my favourite BBC Sherlock fics (I mostly read ACD Sherlock) and It would be nice to find it again

<3

Hey Nonny!!!!

OMG I THOUGHT I KNEW THIS ONE, but I think I was thinking of a similar one with summer instead:

Sherlock Doesn't Like Summer Nights by sherrinholmes (T, 337 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff) – "Isn't it considered normal and wise to remove layers when one finds one's self overheating?" Sherlock threw the shirt into some dark corner of the room and began working on the drawstring of his pyjama trousers.

I'm SURE I've read this one though... If I DID, it will be on my Hot and Cold Fics list for sure...

OTHERWISE, anyone able to pinpoint the exact fic Nonny is looking for??

[sherlockholmes-real]

Kinktober Day 1- Praise Kink

Sherlock BBC- Johnlock

Sherlocks parents weren't really the type to tell him that he'd done a good job as a kid, mostly because they assumed he heard that enough at school and from other kids. Most likely, they just thought other people liked people like him, but they didn't really. Actually, most people and kids his age thought he was a pretentious prick.

Now he was older, and people still thought he was a pretentious prick, but he'd mostly gotten used to John telling him how smart he was about twenty-four seven. Sometimes, though, it still got to him. It was like the teenager in his brain wasn't quite used to it and got a bit riled up every now and then. Right now seemed to be one of those times. The two had just gotten done with solving a cold case, something Sherlock was proficient at. John seemed to be still astonished every time he did it, and this was definitely one of those times.

"Sherlock, you're just amazing." John threw his hands up in the air. "You're so good at this."

Sherlock pauses in his tracks for a moment he turns away from John before responding cockily with an "I know."

"No, I mean it, this time you just, wow, you're so good." John smiles in amazement.

"Right." For the first time in his life, Sherlocks' brain feels like it's malfunctioning. "Uhm, tea?" He asks quietly.

"Sure, yes, I'll go make some" John sort of prances towards their shared messy kitchen. Sherlock sits on the couch still wearing his coat to cover what seems to be his problem in his pants.

John walks back into the room while he waits for the kettle to whistle, "Why are you still wearing your filthy coat on the couch."

"It's cold" for someone who's supposed to be a good liar he's not really doing so hot, and he knows it. John peers at him suspiciously.

"Right. Sherlock, it's not cold in here. Take off your coat." John walks over to him and pulls on it from behind.

Now, what does he do? He has a raging boner and his best friend is trying to take off the only thing that's hiding it. "I can't"

"Why?" John sounds genuinly concerned at this point.

"Because." Sherlock says

"Because why, Sherlock?" John rolls his eyes visibly.

"Because I said so, leave me alone." He sounds pretty annoyed, and he stands up and storms off to his room like a little kid, leaving John standing there confused.

The kettle whistles and John decides that bringing his friend a cup of tea was a good way to apologize for being way overbearing. John makes the cup and then sets off towards Sherlocks room knocking on the door lightly.

"What?" He responds to the knocking.

"I brought you your tea." John says quietly, pausing for a moment, "Can I come in?"

Sherlock sighs, "Yes, I suppose." John opens the door to see Sherlock under a blanket, not an unfamiliar sight, but it was strange. Considering he was still sitting up. He hands Sherlock the cup, and as he leans the forward to grab it, the blanket falls just short of his crotch.

John's eyes fall for just a second and then double take, and then instantly fly away once he realizes. "Sherlock." John says, not trying to make it obvious he knows.

Of course, though, Sherlock knows he knows, and maybe it was all part of his plan. He's smarter than that to just let it slip. He wasn't expecting John to ask him about it, though. "Oh!" Sherlock exclaimes with an almost false sense of shock. He quickly covers himself back up, "I'm sorry."

"No!" John says quickly, "I mean, you don't have to be sorry. Well, I mean... I should just go." John sighs a little bit embarrassed, seemingly more embarrassed than Sherlock was.

"Please don't." Sherlock bats his eyelashes at John, and grabs onto the sleeve of his shirt. Sherlock had already set his cup of tea on the side table. He was sure it was going to get cold.

"What, uhm, what do you want me to do?" John asked him, taking a step closer, still nervous, Sherlock had never done anything like this before.

"Help me, I don't do this sort of thing, I don't... masturbate." He said the last word a little awkwardly. John realized what Sherlock was really asking him, and he was on board for it. He had realised he was in love with Sherlock a few months ago, but he wasn't really expecting Sherlock to ask him something like this. Not that he was against it it was just unexpected.

"I can help." John smiled at him, "Do you know what causes it, or was it just random?" He asked before sitting down on the bed next to him placing a hand on Sherlocks thigh.

Was he supposed to tell John it was his constant praise or just keep that to himself, he was already this far so why not, that is something people do when they're in a situation like this right? "It seemed to appear when you called me "good.'" He said just like he was having a normal conversation.

Finding out that Sherlock had a praise kink wasn't really on John's bingo card this year, but it doesn't seem unexpected. He always seemed a little off when he did that. "Okay, then. I'm gonna need you to sit back for me. Can you do that?" John slid his hand up a little higher towards Sherlocks hip to push him back slightly.

Sherlock then adjusted himself to he sitting up against the back of the headboard. John got a little closer to him, starting to close the gap between the two of them, "Good boy, you listen to instructions when we're in here then, don't you?" John noticed the way Sherlocks eyes seemed to glaze over. He smiled slyly before leaning in to kiss Sherlock. He assumed this was okay because the taller man seemed to be very eager to kiss back.

John was practically on top of him at this point. He put his hands in the other man's hair. He was clearly leading here as he had experience, and he assumed Sherlock didn't. He tugged on his hair slightly, and Sherlock gasped, allowing John to slip his tongue into the others mouth.

Sherlock had learned how to do this but he had never put it into practice, he would never admit to anyone that he had put in intense research on how to kiss someone when John had started coming around but he did. Now he was putting it to practice, and he hoped he was doing well. John pulled away for a second, and Sherlocks' hands immediately went to grab the front of his shirt, his eyes begging for more. John laughed slightly at the desperate Sherlock. "You okay?" John asked him.

"More than okay." Sherlock didn't usually have a hard time formulating words, but he didn't know how to ask for what he wanted.

"I'm gonna take off your trousers and pants now, okay?" John said it sounded like a question, and Sherlock nodded, agreeing that he'd probably allow John to do whatever he desired to him. John unbuttoned Sherlocks trousers, and he shimmied out of them.

"Can we get on with it, please? I'm going to die." He sounded so dramatic, but it was a little bit cute to John. He however wasn't going to let Sherlock boss him around, not in the bedroom atleast.

"Be patient, or I'll drag it out more." John said absolutely, and Sherlock gave him that look of defeat. He really was powerless in this situation. John used his hand to palm against Sherlocks erection his underwear still on.

Sherlock trusted up into it his icy grey eyes on John's deep blue, "Please, John." He was practically begging at this point.

"What happened to "I don't beg"?" John said, his palm still rubbing against Sherlocks ever growing erection.

"I lied, just please, touch me." Sherlock pleaded his head thrown back against the headboard, basically grinding against John's hand.

"Alright, alright, but only because you've been such a good boy and begged for me." John smirks as Sherlock closes his eyes and whines.

John pulls Sherlocks dick out of his underwear. It was so beautiful to John, getting to see the person he cares about the most like this. He decided that perhaps a hand job was the most Sherlock would be able to handle for right now, much more, and he might explode. John started out slow for him, just grazing his fingers up and down the shaft. Slow the tip of his thumb rubbing against the head every now and then causes Sherlock to whimper and buck his hips up.

John hadn't pictured that Sherlock would be someone who would make much noise, but now that he does, he would never want him to stop. "Pretty noises you're making for me love, keep doing that, okay?"

Sherlock nods breathlessly as John tightens his grip on the others cock. Sherlock hadn't really expected it to feel this amazing. It was like every touch was electric, and he was just reveling in it. John's touch was magical his hand was just sliding up and down Sherlocks cock and he felt like he was going to explode.

"Do you feel good, Sherlock?" John asked him. The way he said Sherlocks name almost sent him into more of a frenzy than he was already in.

"Yes, John." He was moaning the words, but he didn't even care. He was about to cum and John could tell, Sherlock couldn't keep still and John just kept speeding up. He kept doing that and teasing the head of Sherlocks cock until it started to twitch and John knew he was there. Sherlock came all over John's hand with a moan. He looked down at it, "I'm sorry." Sherlock started to say quickly.

"It's okay, Sherlock, are you okay?" John stood up, waiting for a response.

"Absolutely." Sherlock sounded offended, he would even ask. He hesitated for a moment, "Can I do anything for you?"

He smiled but shook his head, "I'm too tired. Remember, we just came back from a two day, long murder chase." John laughed, "I'll be right back." He goes into the bathroom to wash his hands and brings back a warm, wet, wash rag to clean up Sherlock with.

"You're sure? You don't want me to suck you off?" He sounded so casual like he was asking if John wanted a cup of tea.

John blushed and started to clean the cum off of Sherlocks thighs, "as wonderful as that would be, I assure you I'm perfectly okay." He paused for a moment to look up at Sherlock reassuringly.

"Okay, would you like to sleep together then?" Sherlock offered, and John happily accepted. Of all the things that John had expected to happen when he got home, this was not of them. He wasn't complaining. He did like having Sherlock all huddled up next to him. It was a little ridiculous, considering how tall Sherlock was to see him all snuggled up in John's chest. This was nice, though John thought, probably everything he had ever dreamed of.

[tex-treasure-chamber]

Ad Astra Per Aspera

Name: "Tex" Sonata

Pronouns: xe/they/she

Universes: BBC Sherlock, Black Books, The Blacklist

Age: 31 at the start of S1

MBTI: INTJ-T

Personality in five words: Cautious, Earnest, Macabre, Playful, Curious

Orientation: AFAB Agender person. Asexual and aromantic

Nationality: Texan (Mexican-American)

Physical description: 5'0". Sonata is a POC; xe has caramel brown skin and indigenous Mexican features in the form of xyr strong nose. They have heavy lidded dark brown eyes, dark brown wavy hair that curls at the ends and reaches her lower back. Small scar on right side of jaw along their chin. Small cupid's bow lips. Dark brown freckles occasionally dot xyr skin in constellations along arms. Hourglass figure.

Clothing attire: Sonata typically wears dark/light academia attire to work and an eldritch blend of detective film noir/southern cowboy/goth lolita/Hawaiian shirt wearing stepdad when on the streets. Regarding shoes, it's either cowboy shoes, oxfords, or thick heels. Usually always has on a large chunky jumper around the flat. Wears a wristwatch at all times except in the shower even though it's waterproof. Has two piercings in both ears and typically wears silver studs.

Occupation: D.I. working for Scotland Yard. Answers to D.I. Lestrade. Has some training as a criminal profiler

Home: 221C. Between the events depicted in Ep1 and Ep 3 of S1, Mrs. Hudson renovates 221C thanks to the combined income from Sherlock and John and Sonata moves in long before the events depicted in Ep3.

Interests: marine biology, astronomy, art history, zoology, criminology, learning dying languages

Hobbies: painting, letter writing with wax seals, photography, stargazing, drawing, reading and visiting Black Books for more books and to spend time with friends (xe always brings wine), writing poetry, playing chess, exploring London museums and art galleries, feeding the local magpies, cooking/baking.

Idiosyncrasies: hums/sings when xe thinks xe is alone, bounces leg, bounces on balls of feet, fiddles/gesticulates with hands, plays with the curled ends of xyr hair, doesn't make much eye contact, is prone to staring, shies away from touch.

-Relationships-

Life partner: Jim Moriarty

Queerplatonic partners: Molly Hooper, Gregory Lestrade

Found family (adoption style): Mycroft, Sherlock, and Eurus Holmes, Dembe Zuma, Raymond Reddington, Mrs. Hudson.

Best Friends: John Watson, David Black (belongs to @13leighstreet)

Friends: Bernard Black, Soo Lin Yao, Irene Adler, Mike Stamford

-Day in the Life-

When not working at Scotland Yard or at a crime scene, Sonata can be found at their home in 221C or out somewhere in London on any random given street with someone dear to xem that she's managed to drag along on yet another 'miniventure'. Often on Fridays she enjoys visiting Black Books with a bottle of wine and baked goods they made the evening before to pacify the owner and browse the store for a new book, typically with Jim or Molly by their side.

[england-would-fall]

A Year in Review: Lines that made us proud in 2023!

Thank you to the brilliant and inimitable @anincompletelist for setting this up and tagging me!

This year was an emotional rollercoaster, and I didn’t manage a quarter of the writing I would have liked. I’m looking forward to a new year full of far more words written, read, and shared! Until then, please accept my offer of a few of my favorites from this year’s AO3 posts:

When Stars Align

(Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley, Rated G)

Crowley kept his gaze on Aziraphale's shoulder, white shirt more visible for the stars. Perhaps it was the angel himself he feared crossing–or rather, the line he had drawn between them all those decades ago. Snakes don't cry, he told himself, clenching his jaw tighter than the pain in his chest. And demons don't—

Wove in Red for Every Deed

(Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley, Rated G)

“Oh, really now. I don’t think it’s all that bad,” Aziraphale chimed, taking the final steps with a miraculously level tea tray in hand. “Perhaps it’s not to your usual style, and a bit of a tuck in the fabric here and there might improve the fit, but truthfully,” he said in much too high a pitch, “I do think nightmare is rather a harsh word.”

“Give you a harsh word,” Crowley grumbled, dropping heavily into an armchair and threatening his empty teacup with a raised eyebrow.

A Man Awake [WIP, Not abandoned]

(BBC Sherlock, Mycroft/Greg, Rated E)

Greg slung his coat over the back of his own chair and sat. They were close enough in height that it fit around him the same way, now that he wasn’t slouched over the table. It was surprisingly comfortable and—

'Matches your tie.' Oh shit. 'I’m so sorry, that was… what I mean to say, well, didn’t mean to say…' He sighed. Fuck it. 'I said the quiet part out loud.'

'I believe you have, yes. And, incidentally, you are correct. They are exactly the same shade of carmine. I see the detective in you is turned on this morning.'

Greg spluttered, tea dripping onto the front of his shirt.

'This is why I always wear a tie.' Mycroft raised a single eyebrow, and Greg could have sworn that was almost a smile hiding behind the fancy china. 'Perhaps you should consider it?'

'Nah,' Greg shrugged, dabbing at the spot on his shirt with a linen napkin. 'Can’t stand the things. Luckily it’s rare I need to look–' he paused. Mycroft Holmes was staring directly into his eyes. Greg felt his mouth open the slightest bit, letting in air that was far heavier than his lungs were used to. If his thoughts were being read, it was only by one of them. One, two, three, four. This must be what a toaster feels like when it’s dropped in the bath. Five, six, seven. Hold.

Yours, As a Magnolia

(Red, White & Royal Blue, Alex/Henry, Rated E)

“Alex?” Henry’s palm still pressed against his jaw, one fingertip rubbing lightly behind his ear.

“Henry.” He hated the break in his voice, which was definitely not caused by creeping insecurity. “Why me?”

“Why you,” Henry echoed, pupils dilating impossibly further in the dim light. “When I bury my hand in your hair,” he began, fingers threading their way up into Alex’s curls, “it grounds me in my humanity. When I look into your eyes,” he said, shifting his body back over Alex’s, his knees grazing the inside of Alex’s thighs, “I see the life I’ve longed to live unfolding endlessly before me. When I kiss your mouth,” he whispered, lowering his lips to brush against Alex’s with every word, “the jagged edges of my defenses are smoothed by your tongue.”

Beneath the Frost, Lay Bare

(Red, White & Royal Blue, Alex/Henry, Rated M)

“I dreamt of you.” The back of Alex’s hand brushed Henry’s cheek, sending his eyelids fluttering closed against an onslaught of emotion. How could his chest compress beneath the weight of calm Alex instilled in him while simultaneously setting every ounce of blood in his veins aflame with desire? How could one man feel so deeply? How could another drive such feeling? It didn’t make sense, and so Henry turned to the one act always able to anchor his runaway mind: he looked Alex in the eye and swallowed him down.

Secret Swiftie

Alex’s eyes widened as he tugged and kicked his pants off. The way he reacted to Henry’s do-as-I-fucking-say voice was too hot to be allowed, and Henry made a mental note to check the Geneva Convention for potential violations.

Sneak Peek: Burning Ground

(Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley, Rating TBD)

‘The…the…kiwis. Which one was first, the little bird running around all cheep cheep cheep or the fruit with the fuzz and the seeds?’

‘Gooseberries,’ Aziraphale said definitively, heading back toward whatever it was he had been doing. Which was likely nothing, really. Crowley had the sneaking suspicion he’d been studying the same leatherbound book for at least some of the rather more than seven days since the thing hadn’t…thinged, and he wasn’t altogether sure he was even reading the words at this point.

‘Wot gooseberries? Wha’d’you talking about “gooseberries”? No one even likes those. Do they? No, they don’t. They must if people sell them? Aw, people’ll sell anything if they’ve got it. Buy anything too, s’long as it’s less than five pound and they can put it in one of those little reusable bags. Maybe I should get one of those little reusable bags. What would I even put in one of those little bags? Oh, yeah! Hey, angel! Which came first, the kiwi the bird or the kiwi the fruit?’

Find me on AO3 @/englandwouldfalljohn

[strawbszz]

Damian x gn!reader

Genre: fluff / comfort

Word count: 306

Author’s Note: this is not my oc it’s @kitkeithkat‘s named Damian! And i got their permission to write about him since i got writers block a little bit and i’m tired of writing mcr stuff -vamps

You and Damian were cuddling watching a a tv show in y’all’s bed, you guys were watching BBC Sherlock. Damian is a very cuddly one. You’ve known him for about 3 years, well almost 3 years. You two met online and became really close and found out you guys lived in the same town! Then you guys met up, got coffee blah blah blah, now you’re here. lets paint the scenery, Damian was cuddled up to you half asleep drooling on your shirt, theres 2 small candles on your in-table, the tv with ya'll's favorite show on.

"Damian.. you still awake..?" You ask him. Damian groans.

"oh damn.. it's about dinner time.. want me to make us dinner baby..?" You say.

"mhm." Damian says.

"well you gotta get up for me hun." You giggle.

Damian slowly gets up still tired.

You get up and turn off the tv.

~

You're cooking dinner, you're making mac & cheese since its simple and easy.

You hear some footsteps getting closer, you feel little skinny arms snake around your waist.

"You done making the food?" Damian asks you.

"Not yet, Damian. Be Patient." You Say.

You glance down and see Damian's freshly painted green and black nails.

"Nice Nails." You say.

Damian giggles. "Thanks."

"You're so pretty, (Y/N).." Damian says.

You giggle. "Thank you babe." you say. "You're cute too."

You finish making the mac & cheese and grab two bowls for you guys.

"Dinner's ready Damian." You say.

"Ooo! Yummy!!!" Damian says.

You place the two bowls down on the tables with 2 forks and some salt.

Damian grabs the salt and adds some salt to his mac & cheese.

You add a tiny bit of salt to you're mac & cheese.

You guys start eating. "Mmmm! It's so good (Y/N)!" Damian says, smiling.

"Thank you." You Giggle.

[star-shard]

Relapse

BBC Sherlock Genre: angst Triggers: Drug use, alcohol mention

He didn’t want to get high. He didn’t want to get high. That’s what he kept telling himself. It wasn’t about that. He wasn’t trying to feel good. He just wanted to feel okay.

Sherlock had been four months clean. John thought he was two years clean but, John didn’t need to know details. Little mistakes didn’t need to be brought up. A stumble is different than a fall, Sherlock told himself that.

Tonight wasn’t a stumble. He planned it. Thoughts had become too much. Thoughts were good, thoughts moved cases. But then there were the thoughts that only moved him closer to a cliff’s edge.

He was alone now. Sunday night. John was at a group therapy session right now. Sherlock had suggested it. Hey, if John was going to be out of the house, may as well be for something good for him. Funny, what did he know about what was good for anyone.

This wasn’t a quick bump in the toilets when cases were slow. This was a needle of something that slowed him down.

He inhaled. He injected. He exhaled. Not only a week ago he told himself he’d make an active choice to tell others about danger nights. Yet, here he was. Not fighting his urges, letting them grab him into those familiar waters.

He didn’t want to float. He wanted to sink.

Sherlock dragged himself up from the floor, in the event that John got home early, he could at least look more normal on the couch. He told himself that. John couldn’t know. Because then John would stop him. Help him. God forbid.

He wanted to lite a cigarette more than anything, top off the high, sweat already pooled from the anxiety of the night.

His thoughts had been racing. That was the issue. Faster than he could keep up with. Most people saw him and his thoughts to be the same, but that wasn’t true. His thoughts were the train. He was the race horse, trying to keep up with the brain he hadn’t asked for.

No smoking. John would smell it, then one conclusion would lead to another. As Sherlock started feeling what he wanted, he decided to settle.

Everything was okay.

He hadn’t even realized his back had been in a bind until it released. He hadn’t noticed his brow had been pressed until it let go. All the while, ‘you’re killing yourself again’, in the tone of John’s voice was present in his head.

Yes. Murder, or suicide? That was the question. Was he killing the worst parts of himself, or was it a package deal. He laughed at the thought. Perhaps he could solve his own case. “Who killed Sherlock Holmes,” He asked.

Sherlock didn’t used to feel guilty about his addiction. Rewind six years back, he didn’t believe he was capable of being a self pitying addict. That he simply operated on a level where some recreational assistance could be used. John brought self awareness. “If boats didn’t have anchors, they’d just fly,” Sherlock said absentmindedly. He didn’t need a cigarette, there was enough shit burning already. “It is lonely in the void space for a floating boat…”

The door. It opened.

Fuck. John.

“Fuck, John,” Sherlock found himself saying. He sat up. As well as he could. “Fuck, hello, they’re interchangeable aren’t they?” Sherlock knew he sounded different, but he prided himself as passing for sober, so hopefully It would pass now as wit rather than stupidity.

John laughed. Thank god. “Happens to be best of us, usually with a telemarketer.” Sherlock’s eyes spilled over John, picking up what he could. Crooked back, disappointment, stain on the shirt, got a snack, needed comfort, hairline was…. was… Sherlock smiled. Hard to stoke the fires of the old locomotive when the race horse was in charge.

“I knew you’d hate group. You hate people in groups.”

John took off his jacket, not chuckling now. “Let’s get a dog then. I can handle that.”

Oh, he was in a mood. Good. John was focused on himself, so he wouldn’t notice Sherlock. The needle was hidden, and Sherlock would dispose of it later. “Go on then, blog. The best people in our lives are invisible.” While he was sure he was keeping this up quite well, even he knew he couldn’t mask for a full blown therapy chat.

John made a face. Hello. Fuck. He said the wrong thing again. Sherlock smiled at his own fuck up. Or maybe that was the drugs. “And anyway, I can't supply entertainment. I’m married to this couch, don’t tell my work about the affair,” he mused, apologizing wasn’t an option, that could lead to a discussion, he wasn’t capable of that. He needed John away from him right now. Let him be annoyed. Sherlock could charm him back to his side later.

Woof, that hurt all of a sudden in his chest. He used to manipulate Mycroft all the time when he first became addicted. Why did it hurt now.

John sighed. That heavy sigh he did. “Never mind the dog, a live in couples therapist.” And quickly adding, “if there’re any hidden cameras, that was a joke. No article needed about how we’re together.”

Sherlock smiled something crooked. That was the most interesting ‘no homo’ yet. Oh John. Oh…. John. His anchor. Sherlock was in space. And all he wanted to do, was go further. To not see stars, just blackness. The void. He craved it. Even if a part of him screamed to admit how bad he had actually had gotten to John.

But, who would further wound a veteran already in pain.

One day maybe. Mix some alcohol into it, get a truly grand confession, a show stopper. Rock bottom, that was the ticket, wasn’t it?

John smiled because Sherlock smiled. At how ridiculous therapy could be while also needing it so badly.

Back on his side. That was good. “Groups are for the birds. I prefer duos,” Sherlock said to him. “…You’re actually going to blog about this, aren’t you.”

“Adventures in stale coffee and guilt, doesn’t have that ring.” John was funny. Sherlock wondered why he never complimented him on that. John was in the kitchen now, getting a beer. It would only be one. Sherlock knew that very well, tracked his self medication system, by the end of that shame would kick in due to his sister and he’d stop at one on a night like this.

He knew a lot about John. That he also kept a private diary on his computer. It was the one thing Sherlock chose not to investigate. He’d read John’s mail, mushy love letters, hilarious attempts at poetry. But never the unlabeled file on his computer.

Sherlock was fading fast right now. ‘Go away John. Go away.’ He wanted to say that. Silence. It was the best way for him to be left alone. John so adored to engage with him. So he allowed the silence to hang, to stain the moment.

The sound of traffic happened outside. The sound of Mrs. Hudson’s music a floor below hummed. The sound of a few swigs from the beer that was already back in the fridge now. So John was deeply ashamed tonight, for whatever therapy had dug up and/or buried. Sherlock lacked the capacity to fix that in the best of times, he lacked a lot right now.

“Enjoy the palace, let me know if you add a pool house to it,” John mumbled. Fuck, had Sherlock fucked up again. There was something in that tone, or maybe the way he walked away. Or maybe it was pure paranoia because he was fucking high right now.

At least Sherlock was alone at last.

Alone without himself. That was the point of substances, wasn’t it.

He did fall asleep there. And he’d forget the conversation he had with John. One of the few times he could forget something he cared about.

[khorazir]

Fic Writer Meme

I’m quite late to this, but thanks a lot for the tag @discordantwords

How many works do you have on ao3? 30 in total. Most are for BBC Sherlock, three are for Dead Boy Detectives

What’s your total word count? 1,574,736 (how did that happen?)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Enigma

The Horse and his Doctor

Rewind

Putting up Shelves

The Summer Boy

Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

Yes, I do, although sometimes, it takes me a while.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

All of my fics have happy endings. For a while, I played with an angsty ending for my WW2 codebreaker fic Enigma, but ultimately decided against it and gave the boys their deserved happy ending.

Do you write crossovers?

Yes, kinda. I’m currently writing a Dead Boy Detectives fic (The Case of the Stolen Barrow) that borrows characters from Terry Pratchett’s Discworld. And there is going to be a crossover between Sherlock and Dead Boy Detectives as the next fic in this series.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not really, but there has been what I like to refer to as the Rabies Incident for my Horselock fic The Horse and his Doctor. When I mentioned that John, a veterinarian, would insist on a rabies shot for an animal he found, I got a number of messages from UK citizens reminding me that there is no rabies in the UK (even though I had checked with actual UK vets before and they’d said that of course they’d give a rabies shot to an animal of unknown origin). But yeah, just so that people know, there is no rabies in the UK ;)

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do, kinda. Most of the sex scenes I have written are rather emotional and a little awkward and experimental (and thus hopefully realistic).

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Some have ended up on Wattpad and in other places where they shouldn’t have been. I wouldn’t really call that stealing. I think (I hope) in most cases those who uploaded them there didn’t have any bad intentions. I don’t like it, though. The same goes for my art, which has been stolen and ended up on t-shirts and stuff without my authorisation.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I used to co-write Tolkien fanfic on messageboards back in the late 1990s and early 2000s, but eventually, my co-authors dropped off, so the fics were never completed.

What's your all-time favourite ship?

At the moment Johnlock and Payneland, but I also have a soft spot for Faramir and Éowyn (book only!), and Laura Holt and Remington Steele.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I do try to finish all my WIPs, although it sometimes takes me a long, long time. Although I have an inkling that The Passage may never be finished ...

What are your writing strengths?

I think I’m quite good at writing dialogue and descriptions of places.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Writing smut is not my forte, I guess.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I have included dialogue in other languages in several of my fics, but they are always languages I either speak fluently or have at least a working knowledge of.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

If you count a machine-typed fic from the early 1990s, it’s Indiana Jones.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

At the moment, I’ve got my hands full with four idiot detectives, two alive and two dead.

What's your favourite fic you've written?

Oooh, that’s difficult. I have a soft spot for The Summer Boy, and also Slipstream and Nightjet. And my cracky Dead Boy Detectives fic The Petition because I had so much fun writing about demons bitching about their work conditions in Hell.

I don’t know who has been tagged before, so if you’d like to play, please do.

[bccksmarts]

GET TO KNOW THE MUN.

what’s your phone wallpaper : ...dramione and it has been for MONTHS

last song you listened to : Meet You There 2.0 by Busted

currently reading : apart from fanfiction ( a mix of Dramione, Harmione & Sherlolly ), I've re-reading the Philosopher's Stone!!

last movie : UH... Avatar 2: The Way of Water

last show : The Rookie, just finished the 5th season the other day.

what are you wearing right now : Jeans, Hogwarts t-shirt and Slytherin Quidditch jacket

how tall are you? : 5'1

piercings / tattoos? : None!

glasses ? contacts? : Nope!

last thing you ate? : Two slices of cheese & tomato Pizza

favorite color(s) : I like browns and greens right now but my ALL TIME favourites are purples, goldy yellows and reddy-pinks ( basically magentas )

current obsession : My only fixations rn are Harry Potter / Wizarding World, Hogwarts Legacy & BBC's Sherlock, that's literally all that runs around in my lil' head

any pets : I own a cat and a turtle, but we have a family dog!!

do you have a crush right now?: I've got my BF but I think he's well aware of my crush on Tom Felton so.............

Favourite fictional character : I like a LOT of different characters but uh... Hermione Granger ( obvious ), Molly Hooper ( also obvious ), Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Amy Rose, Ochako Uraraka, Ann Takamaki—this list could go on for actual DAYS

last place you travelled : Oh, convenient!! I went to London for a shopping trip & HP studio tour!!

tagged by: @toxicmalicex ( thank you lovely!!! ♡ )

tagging : whoever else would like to!!

[luesmainblog]

Tumblr used to have kind of a War Of Use going on. either you were Fandom, or you were Aesthetic. It's difficult to really get across just how strong of a hold these two kinds of blogs had on the culture here. Fandoms are still a big draw on tumblr, but they were inescapably the thing you saw here back in the 2010s. and we were fully problematic, too; Homestuck, Hetalia, My Little Pony, Supernatural, Doctor Who, and BBC Sherlock were basically the big 6, with a VERY special shoutout to the Onceler Fandom, an offshoot of the cgi lorax fandom soley dedicated to remixing the onceler and shipping him with alternate universe versions of himself. this would occur again with undertale and the Sans fandom. due to the popularity of homestuck and hetalia occuring at the same time(and there being noticeable solidarity between the two), there was a period where one of the biggest fandoms on tumblr was... fandomstuck. where you make a humanization of your fandom, make an ask blog, and have them interact with other fandoms. it was glorious, it was cringe as fuck, and i miss it dearly. on a more serious note, sometime around the end of homestuck and the rise of steven universe, there was a noticable uptick in people who struggled to read media with nuance, thought liking a bad guy meant you were a bad person yourself, and generally could not keep these thoughts to themselves - harassment has always been a thing unfortunately, but the flame wars went from "your ship is dumb and stupid and mine is better" to "if you stan this main character you are an actual fascist and probably a pedo". at the time i thought this was bc queer people were desperate for good rep and tearing apart anything that might make them look bad, but now that i look back on it, i think that timing lines up with public schools becoming less and less able to teach accurate history and critical thinking. now we're at the point where simply being a fan of a very popular old show can get you accused of the worst crimes on earth because of one or two problematic elements. which would be less of a problem if it weren't for the mass harassment :/ stay safe, kids, and block liberally.

on the subject of old media, just some advice from someone who's been fandoming for 14 good years: any time you approach an older piece of media(like, pre-2020 and especially pre-2016), prepare yourself for some bigotry or other problematic stuff that was normalized at the time... and allow yourself to like it anyways. recognize that some people Enjoy the parts that really bother you, and that isn't always a bad thing. practice a be-and-let-be attitude, and don't let yourself leave nasty comments on the things that make you upset. save the hate for the senators; we're all just vibing here.

one last nugget o' the old times: the t-shirt post. there was this HUGE long post where various tumblr users investigated why girls and boys take their shirts off differently. turns out, it's because of the cut; girl cut shirts usually have tighter armpits and shorter torsos, so they're easier to peel. boys' shirts usually have lose sleeves and long torsos, so they're easier to tug over your head. use this knowledge wisely. also, the reblog button used to be at the TOP of a post, so if you wanted to subject your followers to it, you had to scroll aaaaall the way back to the top. i am almost certain that "do you love the color of the sky?" is the reason it was moved to the bottom.

I really can’t believe I’ve been on this hell site for 8 years

[hballegro]

aw fuck lads i just remembered where i got the 'plum shirt for hawkeye' idea from and its not good. no sir.

i'll give you 3 guesses and your first two dont count

My own brain

Sherlock (bbc)

saw it in an old sears catalogue

[silken-moonlight]

My own introduction:

Hello, dear reader! I have absolutely forgotten to properly introduce myself. We shall begin with some simple things.

You can call me Moon or Swan, I go by both names. I am twenty-one years old and from europe. I am a writer, making up stories since I can remeber.

I enjoy fantasy books of all kinds. Besides this blog, I actually write high fantasy, but this blog is for my own enjoyment and fun.

My asks are always open to you, for either questions, requests, or anything else. My DMs are open too. I have created a SFW blog for just some fluffy and cute writings, maybe some poetry too. I will probably also talk about books. It is: @strawberries-filled-with-honey

Some rules for my blog:

No hate towards each other. I will gladly listen to criticism or if you do not like something. Keep it respectful, however.

Also: No minors. Absolutly no minors. There will be sexual and kinky content. There will be kinks portrayed, probably also some unhealty relationships.

This is all fictional, a form of escapism. So please be kind and nice to one another.

Also, for all BG3 fans: This page is a safe space for Ascended Astarion lovers. I have seen many people debate about it. Both Spawn and Ascended Astarion are good. Neither is better than the other. It's fiction, and what you prefer is personal preference. It does not make you a bad or a better person for what you like.

Also: Divider Creators I use: @thecutestgrotto and @saradika-graphics

Mythological creatures I want to write about:

Werwolves

Dragonshifters

Unicornshifters

Vampires

Faefolk

Fandoms I am in:

Baldurs Gate 3

Lord of the Rings/Hobbit/Silmarillion

The phantom of the Opera

Cats

Sailor Moon

The last Unicorn

Sherlock BBC

Good Omens

Hellboy 2

House of the Dragon

WEREWOLVES

Werewolf Best Friend in a Rut: idea, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4,

Alpha x Human Waitress Series: Idea, Moodboard, Introduction, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Werewolf BF with a Mommy Kink

Werewolf bf being sweet

Double Trouble (Vampire x Werewolf x You) + Idea

Fem Werewolf Sub Reader

Omegaverse Test meets horny werewolf bf

Subby Werewolf BF

Helping out your Incubus friend

Male Omega x Your breast

Adult Entertainment Werewolf BF, Part Two

Teasing your Dom werewolf bf

Connected to his feral side werewolf bf

Werewolf bf and body image

Werwolf bf and oversized shirts

Comforting your werewolf bf (SFW)

VAMPIRES

Vampire Emporer: Idea, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Lesbian Vampires

Again on Lesbian Vampires

Vampires feeding

Vampire Sugar Daddy

More on Vamp sugar daddy

Vamp Sugar Daddy Spoiling you

Vampire Sugar Daddy and your warmth

Vamp! Sugar Daddy (Nikolai) getting massaged by you

Vamp! CEO

Vamp Ceo taking you out for dinner

Female Vampire Seductress x female human reader

Dystopian Vamp Story teaser

FAE

Stag Fae

Bound for Eternity

Silver and Gold

Dragons

Fae King bf with God-Complex, Part 2, Part 3

Fae bf manipulating you

Dragon King Husband

COLLABS

Zyran Rosefall

OTHER

The wild hunt: Part 1, Part 2

Dream Monster

Sfw things:

Werewolf bf pampering you, werewolf bf in your home

Elf boyfriend night routine

[denimbex1986]

'Andrew Scott is riding a career high.

Despite that inconceivable Oscar snub, the 47-year-old out actor gave one of his best performances to date in the romantic ghost story All of Us Strangers opposite Paul Mescal. It’s a must-see!

He’s next set to blow away TV audiences with the titular role in Ripley, Netflix‘s upcoming queer take on The Talented Mr. Ripley.

Stunning!

Of course, the Irish actor has been getting accolades since playing James Moriarty in the BBC series Sherlock and as the priest in the second season of Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s comedy series Fleabag.

Along the way he’s won a BAFTA Television Award and two Laurence Olivier Awards for his work on the London stage, and scored Emmy, Golden Globe, and SAG Award nominations.

On top of all that, Scott also has impeccable style which he masterfully flaunted throughout award season. But with all his professional success, what we really need to talk about as a community is the beauty and talent of Andrew Scott’s biceps!

Scott doesn’t have any public social media, so thirst traps are not in his wheelhouse. This only makes us love him more!...

No, Scott doesn’t throw his gym gains in your face. He’s too classy. Instead, he relies on the a rolled up sleeve, a crossed arm flex, or a non-threateningly fitted shirt to reveal he’s actually a stealth fitness king.

However, he’s also not above indulging in an extravagant sleeveless serve when the moment calls for it. Tank tops are a gay mandate after all!...'

[anthropologistfromentropy]

Well, my high school English teacher was pretty strict the first two and half years of classes, but she was definitely chaotic good in reality. In the student union meetings she talked about Captain America's abs and stuff lol. Also made a low key kinky joke in one lesson in our last spring??

Just her purple hair, piercings and a BBC Sherlock fan shirt (with the high-functioning sociopath quote, ugh but also lmao) was a sign she was not lawful lol.

It's actually kind of fascinating how exclusively english-as-a-second-language teachers only come in lawful alignments. I've had lawful evil english teachers, lawful neutral english teachers, and lawful good english teachers, but never one that wasn't one of the above.

Like how does a person whose entire moral code and sense of ethics is founded on a stalwart faith that There Are Rules That Must Be Followed dedicate their entire life's work to teaching the most chaotic goblin goddamn language currently spoken on Earth, that looted the word "loot", hunted their singular second person pronoun to extinction, and whose spelling and pronunciation are so detached from each other that native speakers have national competitions about getting it right?

Or is it like being a priest. Like you just have to have absolute faith in the ultimate sense and logic of it all, no matter how much evidence you see to the contrary, or you'll never make it in the field.

[beartes22]

BBC Sherlock real némesis would be someone like me tbh bc i would just never be impressed if he deduced something about me. It's not that i am hard to impress or anything it's just that my social memory is so bad it's kinda in the negatives. Like sure, i will forever remember the name of that background character of that one niche fandom no one cares about that is not even my blorbo but asked me what i did tell Who and what did Who tell me and im blank. Theres nothing. So i just keep quiet in the small talk "since im single now i can do back clubbing hard" says one of my best Friends and i say "yeah okay lets go this saturday" smoothly while inside i am "what??? Break Up?? since when?? But you were together for years!!!!" Or a Friend could tell me "since you got the new job and all" and i would be like "have i told them that? I dont remember but they know so i must have"

This also means i am the butt of a lot A LOT of jokes. So non-reacting is my defense mechanism against people teasing me.

So BBC Sherlock would be all like "the cuffs in ur shirt are stained which mean you were in a wheelchair for two years when you were a child" and i would be like "wow have i told them that? I dont remember but they know so i must have. The asshole trying to mess with me with the shirts cuff shit though but haha! I am aware of your tricks!!"

I think he would be frutrasted about that. Like driven mad frustrated. Bc his ego be damaged