#parentlock fics

[inevitably-johnlocked]

hi steph! i hope you’re well <3

i’m look for a fic and it’s been driving me insane!! so i thought if anyone could find it, it would be u :)

so the plot is that john and sherlock are broken up, but they’re raising rosie together…the feature i remember most clearly is that they would joke about getting “divorced” despite not being married, until they eventually broke up (they do get back together though)

i’ve been looking for this fic for almost two weeks now (i’ve abandoned studying my physics midterm in favour of finding it haha)

i’d really appreciate your help! thanks xx

Hi Lovely!

OH GOSH okay this sounds SO much like a fic that someone else was looking for awhile ago, and I went up and down all my tags and fic lists and nothing is jumping out at me...

HOPEFULLY the larger Lovely and Lurker™ Landscape can help us out!!! Anyone know which fic this is??

[noodles-and-tea]

Z z z …

[winterdaphne2]

Favorite Johnlock Fics (BBC Sherlock)

I went on a bit of a fic-reading spree this spring, and this list of favorites is the result! There are many other fics that I’ve enjoyed reading, but these are the ones that I’ve really loved for one reason or another.

I’ve tagged the authors whose tumblrs I could find. If that’s you, thank you so much for sharing your writing with us. If your work is on here, you wrote something that I really treasure.

1. A River Without Banks, by Chryse. E, 203,286 words. Starts right after Season 3. A mix of Sherlock’s perspective, John’s perspective, and the perspectives of other characters. Sherlock-focused for the first half.

Author’s summary: “‘You love this, being Sherlock Holmes.’ He had once. When had it all gone so wrong?”

This is my absolute favorite. The author’s characterization of Sherlock is amazingly accurate, and Sherlock’s character development over the course of the story is breathtakingly executed and moving. The plot is fantastic and takes you on a page-turning emotional roller coaster, especially for about the first half of the story. I was also continually impressed by how many details from the show and references to earlier parts of the fic the author was able to weave in throughout while still keeping the story creative and original. Most importantly, though, I love this fic for the message that it sends about Sherlock and John’s love, which is a far more positive message than the one that the actual show settled upon in the end. I’m grateful that we have this version of their love story, and, personally, I like to pretend that this was Season 4 and how the show ended.

2. Another Country, by Chryse. E, 67,414 words. Starts right after the end of TAB. Sherlock’s perspective.

Sherlock spends one month and three days under house arrest in 221B, trying to get clean from the drugs, track down the new Moriarty, and figure out what the hell is going on between him and John.

Another fantastic work by Chryse. This author really gets Sherlock’s character, and once again the characterization of Sherlock is spot-on and convincing. There are a few other elements that also make this a compelling story, including smart use of minor characters, a solid central mystery, and a complicated relationship between Sherlock and John that includes a pretty convincing post-Season-3 version of John. Excellent.

3. walk through ghosts, by @augustbird. M, 6,125 words. Written between Seasons 2 and 3. Sherlock’s perspective.

Author’s summary: “The thing is: Sherlock thought that the two of them would have forever to figure it out.”

This is the saddest fic I have ever read, and so beautifully written. The author captures Season 2 Sherlock’s character perfectly; the fact that this story feels so real is what makes it devastating. The day after I read this, I couldn’t stop thinking about it and walked around with my heart physically aching in my chest.

4. Nature and Nurture, by @earlgreytea68. M, 203,273 words. Set sometime after Season 2. Alternates between John’s and Sherlock’s perspectives, but mostly told from John’s.

The British government clones Sherlock. He and John decide to raise the baby.

A true fandom classic. The premise sounds super cracky, but somehow it really works. This fic is surprisingly serious at times, but overall it is the cutest and funniest thing I have ever read in my life. Basically 200,000+ words of Sherlock and John being adorable gay fathers together and working through some feelings, with line-by-line some of the most hilarious dialogue ever. The five accompanying ficlets that the author wrote as short follow-ups are also worth checking out; my favorites were School (T, 4,753 words) and The Radovljica Apicultural Museum (T, 4,540 words).

5. To a Friend Who Sent Me Roses, by @algyswinburne. E, 16,147 words. Set sometime after Season 4 (but ignores TFP, as we all should lol). Sherlock’s perspective.

Author’s summary: “Five times Sherlock is mistaken for John’s partner and Rosie’s father, and one time it isn’t a mistake.”

This fic is sad, sweet, and hot by turns. Absolutely lovely to read in so many ways, and with so many great details and lines. I think this story offers convincing portrayals of what Sherlock’s and John’s characters might be like after it all and how they might finally get together. This and A River Without Banks are my favorite alternate endings to the show. Beautiful!

6. for all that bitter delights will sour, by @darcylindbergh. E, 9,585 words. Set sometime after Season 3. Sherlock’s perspective.

John initiates a sexually and emotionally abusive relationship with Sherlock.

The second saddest fic I have read. I would never want what happens in this fic to happen to Sherlock and John, so I don’t exactly recommend it as a Johnlock fic. But as a short story, this is a gem, full of absolutely gorgeous and incredibly moving writing. It depicts difficult themes very deftly, in lines and paragraphs that I had to stop to read over and over. I appreciate this as an emotionally powerful and thought-provoking piece of writing inspired by Sherlock, so for that reason I think it deserves to be on this list.

7. The Ground Beneath Your Feet, by Chryse. E, 68,803 words. Set after Season 3, but as if the last two minutes of HLV never happened. “The plane went on to Eastern Europe, and this is what came after.” John’s perspective.

This fic is pretty dark; the author describes it as “a PTSD story in which John was wholly devoted to Sherlock.” I don’t love it quite as much as the other two fics by Chryse that I’ve listed here, but that’s mostly because those two are just so amazing! I still really enjoyed this one. It was wonderful to see a kind and caring version of John emerge out of Season 3, and the story had several memorable moments, including one particularly nail-biting scene. I also really liked seeing John and Mycroft become friends as they bonded over their shared concern for Sherlock.

8. The Adventures of a Single Girl in London (Plus a Consulting Detective), by @earlgreytea68. M, 32,913 words. Set soon after Season 3. Alternates between different characters’ perspectives.

Bored with life at her new cottage in Sussex, Janine returns to London and moves in with Sherlock at 221B. Hilarity, heartbreak, and eventual Johnlock ensue.

This is a Season 3 fix-it fic that features an absolutely lovely friendship between Sherlock and Janine and the best version of Janine that I’ve come across in a fic. Sherlock is vulnerable and sweet, John is an absolute idiot, Janine is perfect, and the last two chapters just make me scream. Great stuff.

And that’s it for now! If you know of any other fics that I might like based on the above, I’d be happy to hear about them, so drop me a line!

Happy reading 😊

[whispersfrom221b]

Rosie: Daddy, I brought Maya with me. Is that okay? She's new in my class and I told her you wouldn't mind.

John: *chuckles* You're lucky Mrs H made enough food to feed an army, Honey. Hello Maya, nice to me you.

Maya: Nice to meet you, Mr Watson. Rosie told me a lot about you.

John: I hope only good things and not how annoying or embarrassing I am. Stop rolling your eyes, Rosamund. And Maya, you can call me John if you like. *shouts* Sherlock, lunch is ready. And wear some clothes, Rosie brought a visitor.

Maya: I can't wait to meet your famous Papa, Rosie.

John: Papa?

Rosie: Oh, I forgot. Maya, you can't call him my Papa here. Daddy and Sherlock are still pretending they're just "good friends".

John: Preten—?

Maya: Didn't you say they were dating for three years?

Rosie: Nearly four, but they're still trying to figure out how to tell me. It's quite funny to watch them pretending. So please, don't let them know I know.

John: You know I can hear you? I'm literally next to you.

Rosie: I know.

John: Since how long did you know?

Rosie: About from the beginning. But Uncle Myc said I should wait until you tell me and enjoy the show in the meantime. He said it'd be fun and you can always trust Uncle Myc to know the fun thing. You'll like him, Maya. Uncle Myc is the best.

Sherlock: Hello Bumblebee. Hello friend of Bumblebee, I'm Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective, Rosie's godfather and John's good friend.

John: Sherlock, we can stop pretending. She knows.

Sherlock: She… oh.

[raina-at]

Fire

Fire exposes your priorities.

The explosion shakes the very foundations of 221 Baker Street. Sherlock looks up from his microscope and sees a vast billow of smoke rise out of the windows of Speedy’s cafe.

Sherlock is out of his seat and down the stairs in two seconds flat. Mrs Hudson meets him at the door.

“What happened?” she asks, looking terrified.

“Gas explosion, if I had to guess,” Sherlock answers, taking her by the elbow. “We need to get out now.”

“Sherlock—”

“Now, Mrs. Hudson.”

He opens the door and forces her out of the building, taking his phone out of his pocket to dial 999.

“Sherlock!” Mrs Hudson grabs him by the shoulder and turns him around, forcing him to look at her. “Look!”

Sherlock follows her outstretched hand with his eyes and his entire world whites out on the edges. Rosie’s pram is parked in front of Speedy’s. 

Sherlock checks his watch. 4:10 pm. John normally comes home with Rosie at four…

They often pick up baked goods from Speedy’s before coming upstairs…

Sherlock feels bile rise in his throat, but he ruthlessly suppresses his fear as he presses his phone in Mrs Hudson’s hand. “Phone 999. They’re probably already on their way, but do it anyway. I’m…” he trails off and gestures to the entrance to Speedy’s.

He doesn’t even hear Mrs Hudson’s response. He runs towards the shattered door and carefully steps inside the wrecked cafe.

The air is thick with smoke, and he can see flames licking out of the kitchen. Glass litters the ground. 

He hears her crying immediately. “Daddy,” she sobs. “Wake up.”

Sherlock assesses the situation with one glance. Rosie seems relatively unharmed, but John’s unconscious, and trapped beneath a heavy-looking shelf. Mr Chatterjee is lying behind the counter. He’s alive, but that’s all Sherlock has time to determine before instinct kicks in.  He’s at Rosie’s side and is picking her up before he’s aware that he’s moving.

“We need to get you out of here, Watson,” he says as he lifts her away from John’s supine body. He hesitates briefly, registering that John is breathing normally, but knowing he can’t lift that shelf alone, and knowing he has to get Rosie out of here. Now. The gas valve is still open. There could be a second explosion any moment.

It’s one of the hardest things he’s ever done in his life, but he clutches his wailing daughter close to his body and runs out of there as fast as his feet carry him.

“Daddy!” she wails into his ear, tearing at his heart with every forlorn cry. “Daddy! We can’t leave Daddy!”

Outside, he’s greeted by a pair of burly firemen, who pull him behind a safety barrier and hand him over to a paramedic, who forces him to sit in the back of an ambulance. They try to pry Rosie out of his arms, but she’s holding as tightly to him as he’s holding on to her.

“Daddy! What’s happening to Daddy!” she wails, sobbing into his shirt.

“Don’t worry, Watson, the firemen will save Daddy. They’ll get him out,” he soothes her mechanically, even as every muscle in his body screams that he needs to go in there and dig John out with his bare hands if he has to, because this can’t be happening, it just can’t. After all they’ve been through, a fucking gas leak—

But he doesn’t move even one inch, because he knows, he knows, he has to be there for Rosie, even if—

Especially if—

He feels bile rise again, but he swallows down the panic and the fear and the desperate need to run back in there, and holds on to Rosie, whispering soothing nothings into her blonde hair, even as she screams for her father, again, and again, and again. Sherlock wishes he could scream as well, but if he even utters John’s name now he’ll break clean in two from the force of the fight raging within him.

He could give her to someone else, run in, get John out.

But what if they both die in there? Who will take care of her then? 

So he sits, and he waits, and he holds their distraught daughter, knowing he has to, there’s no choice here, it’s what they both promised each other, she always comes first, no matter what. 

He waits. And waits. It feels like hours, but it’s probably five minutes, ten at most, before the firemen bring John out on a stretcher. He looks so small, but he’s wearing an oxygen mask and he’s clearly alive.

“Daddy!” Rosie screams, and Sherlock has to stop her from throwing herself on the stretcher, but honestly, he’d like to do the exact same thing. He’s weak with relief and smoke inhalation, and he’s glad when the paramedics take charge and get them all three into an ambulance. As soon as they’re in the ambulance, Rosie takes John’s hand. After a brief moment, Sherlock encloses her hand holding John’s in both of his. 

Sherlock watches their entwined fingers, one small hand and two large ones, the entire way to the hospital.

*-*

Sherlock meets Molly and Mrs Hudson in the waiting room once the doctors have cleared Rosie to go home—smoke inhalation and a few cuts and bruises, they were so lucky—and Sherlock excuses himself to the hospital bathroom, because he’s filthy and he stinks of smoke. 

He washes up, still numb with shock, and that’s when he notices his hands are bloody from pressing his fingernails into his palms. His wedding ring has blood on it. He washes it off, then is violently ill over the washbasin, his body convulsing as the fear and the shock and the smoke inhalation catch up to him.

What would I have done, he thinks. I almost let him die. I would have let him die. I would have watched as he burned to death, what’s wrong with me?

I should have saved him, should have gone in there and gotten him out, he’ll hate me, he’ll never forgive me, and he shouldn’t… I promised him I’d always be there for him, and I failed, failed, failed…

It’s Mrs Hudson who finds him. He’s still on the floor, holding his head in his arms, unaware when he started sobbing, only knowing he can’t stop.

She sits down next to him and wraps her arms around him, guides his head to her shoulders. “It’s fine,” she whispers, over and over and over, “he’s fine, they’re fine, it’s all going to be all right again.”

Slowly, he calms down. He becomes aware that he has a husband and a daughter to see to, and that this little episode is helping nobody at all.

So he helps Mrs Hudson to her feet and washes his face, then lets her direct him to John’s room.

John’s sitting up in bed, Rosie clinging to him, arms and legs wrapped tightly around him. He’s wearing a leg cast, an oxygen mask and a long-suffering expression as he tries to keep Rosie from tearing out his IV without letting go of her.

He stills when he sees Sherlock. Their eyes meet, and John smiles, and Sherlock swallows, near tears all over again, out of sheer relief that they’re all here, and they’re fine. Then John holds out his arm in an inviting gesture, and Sherlock collapses down on the bed and hugs his Watsons tightly to his chest. 

Later, when Rosie’s asleep and Sherlock is dozing in his chair, he feels John take his palm, soothe gentle fingertips over the cuts Sherlock’s fingernails have made into his skin. He pushes his oxygen mask aside and kisses the wounds on Sherlock’s hand, a silent gesture of gratitude and forgiveness, of perfect understanding. I would have done the same, the kiss says. And it would have killed me, too.

Sherlock meets John’s eyes and nods, just once. There are no words for how he feels, and he’s grateful that he doesn’t need any. He pulls John’s hand to his mouth and kisses his knuckles over the IV. Soon, they’ll be able to joke about it. Soon, perspective will return and Sherlock will know emotionally as well as intellectually that he made the right decision. The decision John would have wanted him to make.

Right now, though, he keeps his lips pressed to John’s skin and his hand trapped between both of his as if in prayer and only thinks, Thank you. Thank you fate, thank you luck. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

-----

Tags under the cut as usual, please let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged.

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jrow @peanitbear @jolieblack @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @friday411 @givemesherbet-blog-blog @weeesi @thalialunacy @thegildedbee @dapetty @salmonsown

[starfruitsomething]

I don't care if they never kissed- Johnlock could not be more canon.

[baker-street-boys]

the best fic I have ever read.

it's fucking brilliant. it's perfect. it's got everything. parentlock, weddings, holidays, all our favorite side characters making their appearances. the references to the show were so detailed. I cried multiple times I had to get up and stop reading to scream into a pillow because it was so perfect. this is what happens post-canon in my head now.

[topsyturvy-turtely]

turtely's OTP challenge!

now on AO3! (tumblr link)

read the (slightly improved) 7th part here:

summary: When Mrs. Hudson passes away, the unusual family of three is devastated. Sherlock shuts off, Rosie cries every day and John is desperately trying to keep it together for their sake.

Until one day, Rosie asks for "Lock", and the great detective shows a talent John wasn't aware of yet.

General Audience, 2112 Words. Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Slash, Parent!lock, Minor Character Death, it's sad i am sorry, but it is REEEEAAALLLLY sweet, i promise you won't regret reading this. (i mean you never know but i tried my best to make this rude prompt into something wholesome still)

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 @ladylindaaa @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 @compact-and-beautiful @kabubsmagga @sunshineinyourmind

[missdaviswrites]

sChapters: 1/5 Fandom: Sherlock (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Characters: John Watson, Sherlock Holmes, Rosamund Mary "Rosie" Watson, Sherlock Holmes' Mother, Sherlock Holmes' Father Additional Tags: Friends to Lovers, Sharing a Bed, Parentlock, Supernatural Elements, First Kiss Summary:

John gets much more than he bargained for when he travels with Sherlock and Rosie to help Mr. and Mrs. Holmes do some work around the house.

My first fic in a very long time is now posting on AO3! 

Special thanks to all the attendees at this year’s @ficwritersretreat for the encouragement. I’m tagging you all below!

I don’t normally like to tag a lot of people, especially since some of you aren’t even in the same fandom, but I just want you to know how much you all helped me by being so supportive this summer. Thank you!!!!!!!

@totallysilvergirl @onwallsjcfwrites @mydogwatson @pippn-frodo @keirgreeneyes @thegildedbee @lisbeth-kk @muaddib-iswriting @inevitably-johnlocked @blogstandbygo @stellacartography @otter-von-bismarck @antheiasilva @amindamazed @fearlessdiva930 @helloliriels @addictedstilltheaddict  @hubblegleeflower @seriouslymarythough

[leosficlist]

Parentlock Part Three!!

I truly cannot get enough of reading about this little family

Parentlock List 1

Parentlock List 2

An Addition of Love by Schattengestalt

11.5k words “Sherlock and John spend Christmas Eve together at Baker Street. They both want this Christmas to be perfect, but they are still surprised when it turns out even better than they both have envisioned it.”

notes: getting together, adoption papers, first time

Flowers in His Hair by Reveling_in_mayhem

3.6k “He stepped closer and Sherlock seemed to hold his breath. John reached a hand up to his hair before gently pulling the dandelion free. “It’s just you still had a flower in your hair,” he explained as he held up the item in question.”

notes: soft sherlock, fluffy

In July of This Year by yaycoffee 12k words

“There is an oft-cited experiment discussed in classrooms and cocktail parties alike, a convenient analogy when one endeavors to make a point about not noticing the obvious until it is inevitable. Simply, if you place a frog on a hot plate, it will jump off immediately, but if you put that frog on a cool plate and turn up the heat slowly, slowly, it will simply burn. Or: How these two idiots melt together, finally.”

You See The Leaving, I See The Coming Back by NutMeag83 3k words

“John is miserable and lonely out in the suburbs in the place he once shared with Mary. He slowly begins spending more time at Baker Street to see how it would feel to move back.”

A Family Trait by CumberQueer 12.6k

“Set post-S4, John is back at home with Rosie in Baker Street. He's working on a lot of things, including building his trust with Sherlock once more. An emergency shift at the clinic jumpstarts the process, forcing John to leave Rosie at home with only Sherlock to watch her. Sherlock does his best and John makes a mistake, but everyone is happy in the end.”

Swan Dive by hitlikehammers 8k words

Sherlock has definitely leapt blindly into worse things. Or: Five Times Sherlock Acted as a Parent, and One Time He Didn't Have Any Reason for Acting at All.

notes: scenes of rosie & sherlock through the years

On The Nature of Daylight by iridescentrey 3.8k words

Rosie enjoys Sherlock's stories of the adventures, deductions and chasing bad guys, she does. But sometimes a love story would be a nice change. And not just any love story, a REAL one

Without Complexities or Pride by Raina_At 1.6k words

Love is what happens when you look and look and finally see.

notes: getting together, sherlock's side of falling in love

Da-Da by Anonymous_me 1.7k words

Rosie is learning to use her words.

Did You Ever Think? by orphan_account 1.2k

“Shh, shh... That's right, I've got you.”

Sherlock swallows hard around the lump in his throat and hugs a pillow to his chest.

“Don't you know much I love you? I would do anything for you,” John murmurs upstairs, voice crackling over the baby monitor. Sherlock knows that John knows he can hear him. Knows that John's words are for both of them.

notes: quick little coming together

Don’t Read The Last Page by Raina_at 4.5k words

What does it mean to be brave?

Or: Sherlock and John spend New Year's Day with a grumpy toddler and have a long overdue conversation.

Father by NomdePlume 5.5k words

Sherlock never realized how good he would be at this parenting thing. Or how much he would love it. (post t6t, pre-tfp)

notes: gen, sherlock has feelings for john but this focuses on his devotion to Rosie.

[thetimemoves]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Mrs. Hudson (Sherlock Holmes), Greg Lestrade, Original Morstan-Watson Child(ren) Additional Tags: Past Drug Use, Injured John Watson, No Season 4, Sherlock's return, Fandom Trumps Hate 2023, John's son plays the violin, Past Sherlock/John Relatsionship, Post-Season/Series 02 Series: Part 2 of Neverland Summary:

10 Years after Sherlock's "suicide," he returns to 221B to find that life - and John - have moved on but finds that there is always room for one more in a family.

- - - - - - - - - - -

10 years after falling in love with the first in this series, I am blown away by its new retelling, this time from Sherlock’s POV. It’s exactly what I was hoping for when I won the high bid for @suitesamba​.

*flails*

Just, go back to the start with Always a Neverland, then read this. Please.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hey,

I love your blog, and for the last couple of weeks, while I'm lying in the hospital, I have not read anything else, but your recommendation you post.

And now I was wondering, do you know any parentlock fics. Preferably post S-4 where Sherlock really wants to be a dad to rosie and / or realises he already is. And John and Sherlock find each other on the way, of course.

Hey Nonny! *GENTLE SQUEEZIE HUG*

First of all, all my love and wishes for a speedy recovery and I hope you are alright. I am so happy that my blog was a shining beacon for you during your hospital stay <3 I am always so moved when y'all let me know that my blog helped make y'all's days easier :)

Secondly, my answer for your ask will be similar to the one I replied to early last year looking for S4 Parentlock, so do check out that post :)

I can't recall any I've read recently since then, but there certainly are some, so if anyone has any that they would like to suggest (SELF SUGGESTIONS WELCOME!!!), please do! I love Papa Sherlock fics :)

[strawberrywinter4]

i saw your post about prompts!

and ooo maybe something related to sherlock's growing/settling relationship with rosie as she grows into a teen and john realising that she's much more alike mary than she thinks when she gets upset that she can't remember much about her mother. the men help her see that.

Like Mother, Like Daughter

Fandom: Sherlock (TV)

Relationship: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson & Rosie Watson

Rating: General Audience

Tags: Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Post Season/Series 04, Father-Daughter Relationship, Rosie is a teenager, Teen attitude, Parentlock, Post Mary Morstan, Angst, Fluff

Thank you so, so much for this prompt, anon! I’m so sorry I didn’t get to it sooner and you were one of my first people to send in prompts. I hope this is to your liking❤️❤️

*•*•*•*

Something’s different about Rosie today, John can tell.

Maybe it’s the unsaid sense of a father or maybe it’s because the teen has displayed a frown since the moment she woke up.

John remembers wishing Rosie a good day at school when he dropped her off, students hurrying to get to their first class.

Rosie, however, only stared at the ground, ignoring John. Her blue eyes were blank, her jaw tense.

John blinked, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Hey.”

Rosie’s eyelashes fluttered as she turned to John. “Yeah?”

“You alright?”

She shrugged, and John was only happy it wasn’t an eye roll as well, a pair of gestures that the teen had acquired as the years went on. “M’fine, Dad,” she dismissed, carrying her bag and leaving John’s side before John could say anything else.

“Her menstrual cycle, maybe?” Sherlock had suggested back at 221B when John voiced his concerns. “Did she seem irate?”

“No,” John had said. “Well—god, I don’t even know. Maybe? Just… down, I guess.”

Sherlock came up behind John and soothed a loose hair on the doctor’s head. “Ask her when she gets home, then.”

John snorted. “You know how to deal with her best. You ask her.”

“John,” Sherlock said, sending him a pointed look. “Talk to her.”

The conversation replays in John’s head as he and Rosie walk home, their steps in sync.

Rosie has just turned 14, and her attitude certainly shows it. John finds that his daughter has obtained his obvious anger issues. That can cause some arguments to take place, as much as John wishes it didn’t. Or maybe it’s because she’s around the snarky detective, catching on to his sass.

John sighs through his nose. He hopes not.

Before they enter the flat, John stops her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Rosie, wait.”

Rosie stops, turning to him with a stiff shrug. “Yeah?”

John turns his head. “You sure you’re alright, darling?”

Rosie’s still for too long, her eyes never leaving John’s. “I told you, I’m fine,” she says.

“Right, well, you say that, but you don’t seem like it.”

Rosie scoffs. “Well, I don’t know what you want me to do about it. This is how I act.”

John grits his teeth. “Not usually. Usually you don’t give me an attitude.”

“I’m not giving you an attitude. I’m talking.”

John laughs humorlessly. “Rosie, this isn’t talking. This is starting an argument.”

This time, Rosie rolls her eyes. “God, I can’t get anything through with you!”

And to John’s great surprise, she barges through the door and practically stomps up the stars. John waits for another moment and soon, he registers a door slamming.

John sighs in frustration and heads up to 221B as well in a much calmer fashion. Once he steps into the living room to the flat, Sherlock turns to him where he’s conducting an experiment on the kitchen counter.

“Not good, then?” the detective asks with a quirk of a brow.

John runs a hand over his face. “No. No, not good.”

“She doesn’t like when you’re snarky back,” Sherlock murmurs, flicking a glass tube with his fingers to allow more water flow.

“I wasn’t- look, she has to learn how to dial down that attitude,” John says, leaning on the frame of the entrance to the kitchen. “I swear, it’s almost like arguing with you.”

“No. It’s like arguing with you,” Sherlock corrects. “Or Mary. Really, I can see both of you in her quite clearly.”

John grits his teeth at the comment. He looks up at the bedroom, the shut door displaying unwelcomeness. John steps forward. “Maybe I should-”

“Don’t,” Sherlock says, his eyes still on the tube. “Give her time. Allow her to cool off.”

John clenches his jaw, then nods curtly. “Yeah. Right, erm-”

In a swift movement, Sherlock turns on the stool, taking John’s sides and bringing him closer so that he’s able to stand between his legs. John releases a quiet sigh of relief at the feel of Sherlock’s hands at his sides, soothing him.

“In the research I’ve done, teenagers are prone to get angry easier,” Sherlock says.

“You’ve done research?”

“Shut up. What I’m saying is, just… be patient with her, I suppose. If you two keep bickering back and forth, it will be to no end.”

John stares at Sherlock, unable to take his eyes off this wonderful, brilliant man in front of him. “I love you,” John breathes.

Sherlock grins. “I know.”

___

Two hours pass, maybe three. John is jittering in his chair, and Sherlock is browsing his (John’s) computer leisurely for a case.

John nods, making a decision. “Right. I’m gonna go talk to her.” He stands and Sherlock’s deep voice catches him.

“Calmly,” Sherlock warns, not looking up from the screen.

John opens his mouth to say something, then decides to simply settle for a nod.

Two steps at a time, he heads up the stairs. For a while, he just stands there, fist hesitantly nearing the wooden door.

He takes a deep breath, then knocks.

Nothing.

He knocks again.

John can hear an annoyed breath from the other end of the room. Soon, Rosie opens the door, her eyes expectant. “Yes?” she asks.

John gestures into the room. “May I come in, your majesty?”

Rosie fights a grin, but quickly hides it as she steps aside. “If you want.”

John comes in and briefly admires Rosie’s room. The design has changed over the years. It used to be John’s old room and it was quite bland, but as Rosie’s gotten older, John has encouraged her to decorate it how she pleases. Now there are a few posters of celebrities (that Sherlock rolls his eyes at) and John catches that there’s even a poster of James Bond.

John’s heart swells. He made sure to introduce Rosie to the Bond films at an early age and, together, they’ve made it a tradition to have a movie night at least once a year to binge watch the films. At first, Sherlock refused to partake in it. But when Rosie gave him her big blue eyes, silently pleading that he join them, Sherlock sighed in defeat, taking a seat next to them on the sofa.

John sucks in a breath, breaking his thoughts. He turns to Rosie, his eyes now filling with concern. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong now?”

Rosie looks down, fiddling her fingers. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Rosie,” John says gently. “Come on. You don’t have to lie about this.”

Rosie stares at him, then seems to make a decision. She goes across the room, opening a drawer and pulling out a deck of photographs.

John doesn’t have to see them to know what they are.

“I didn’t mean to snoop,” Rosie claims nervously, stepping forward as she looks down at the pictures of her mother on her wedding day. “But… I mean- I saw the photo album in the corner of your room and- and I couldn’t help but look… keep them. I promise I’ll put them all back, but I just wanted to look, and-”

“Rosie,” John says. He sighs, putting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s alright, darling. It- I knew you’d be curious someday.”

Rosie released a trembling breath. John’s heart breaks. “Why don’t we talk about Mum?” she asks.

John bites down hard on his inner cheek. “You know it’s a sensitive subject. You know how she died.”

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t talk about her,” Rosie counters, her voice cracking.

John squeezes her shoulder, then leads them both to sit on the bed. “I know,” he says. “I know and I’m… so sorry. I just- there’s so much about your mother that- that’s not… I just don’t want you to see her in a bad light.”

“Then… at least tell me if- if I’m like her,” Rosie pleads.

“Oh, darling, of course you are,” John reassures. “You’re a spitting image of her.”

“Could you just- tell me about her? Tell me what she’s like?”

“Well, she was-”

“I want Sherlock to be here,” Rosie interrupts, her eyes desperate.

John pauses. He quickly recovers and nods. “Yeah… yeah, ‘course.”

Just then, Sherlock opens the door. He sniffs and John frowns. “You summoned me,” Sherlock says as he shuts the door behind him.

“Sherlock, how many times do I have to remind you not to listen in on conversations?” John says with gritted teeth as Rose laughs.

“You can hardly blame me, John,” Sherlock defends as he sits on the other side of Rosie.

“I can and I most certainly will.”

Sherlock’s eyes focus on Rosie. “What would you like to know?”

Rosie looks down as she thinks. “It’s selfish.”

“Bee,” Sherlock says in the soft voice he only reserves for Rosie and John. “Nothing you can say is selfish. You have every right to know. I was wondering when you’d bring the topic up.”

Rosie sighs. “Anything, really. I want… I want to know if I’m like her at all or- just anything.”

John can’t help but give a small smile. “You have her stubbornness,” he says. “I think that’s the main thing. I swear, sometimes you talk just like her.”

“You have her energy,” Sherlock continues, and John wants to kiss the man for being such a wonderful sport. He knows Sherlock still feels inexplicable guilt, even as they’ve progressed their relationship into a couple. He knows Sherlock has a difficult time talking about the subject, but the fact that he talks about it like it’s the easiest thing in the world when someone brings Mary up… John loves him. “She was quite the lively woman.”

“You’re clever,” John says, his voice now a whisper. “She was intelligent, could always see through a lie and had a lense of reality.”

Rosie looks like she’s on the verge of tears. Sherlock rubs her back. “What is it?” the detective asks.

“No, no, it’s just…” She lets out a long breath. “Everyone at school always talks about their mothers. And- And that made me more upset that I couldn’t relate to them.” A small smile forms on Rosie’s lips. “I’m glad I can… that I can learn about Mum. And just knowing that I’m somewhat like her-” Rosie sniffles, smiling through her tears. “It makes me so happy.”

John pulls Rosie in for a tight hug, striving not to shed tears himself. He kisses her blonde curls. “You’re a lot more like her than you think. She’ll always be a part of you and I want you to never forget that.”

Sherlock seems hesitant on joining in on the affection, but Rosie huffs and pulls him in by his arm sleeve. “‘Lock, get in here.”

Sherlock chuckles at the nickname and joins in, wrapping his long arms around the both of them.

They stay like that for a while, just the three of them.

*•*•*•*

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

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

[itsonlytext]

Until We Fall Asleep · only made us closer (two)

John, useless kidneys, John, useless kidneys, John, John, John. Isn’t that obvious?

so far we've seen sherlock and john decide to go back to the way they were. seems all rainbows and sunshine and pink bows now. right?

LOL

read chapter one - you both let go.

in this chapter, john visits more, mycroft is being mycroft, giles (gordon (ramsey)? gideon?) calls for the men's help, sherlock pines, and rosie learns a few words. and then.. well it wouldn't be my book if it WASN'T angsty let's leave it at that x

read the beginning down below, then take yourself to finish reading it on ao3.

THERE WAS A 150% increase in the number of John’s visits to 221B in the last two weeks than at all in the two months right after Mary; Sherlock calculated it.

If anything, it had become the way it used to be, the way it was in the small space before Rosie and after his resurrection.

His dinners were far less lonely (John forced him to eat; he said that Rosie needed to see them all together at the table in order for her to eat. Sherlock was fairly certain that was a lie but, for the first time in months, he didn’t need to be persuaded to eat), 221B felt lived in what with the constant buzz of obscenely bright plastic pianos, plushies that squeaked (which Sherlock was convinced were supposed to be dogs toys), teethers, (god-awful) nursery rhymes on the TV, and a constant stream of babbling that came with the discovery of language (more, no, dada, yeah), and, most of all, John.

(Oh God, John.)

He occupied, filled and cured any cracked crevice within Sherlock - he did it every time he walked in and sat in his armchair with a comfortable smile.

The tangible cloud of stiffness and guilt that loomed above their heads blew away seamlessly, John now always waited for him outside the clinic after his triweekly appointments (something for Sherlock to look forward to), their conversations stretched out for hours instead of moments, and their tense politeness vanished.

And, a week after the {American/French} Casserole incident, Mrs Hudson started cooking for them again.

Sherlock supposed, in that sense, he was getting better. They were getting better.

A nighttime breeze rolled smoky clouds over Baker Street. The little lamp by the TV was on and so were the kitchen lights.

Sherlock was trying not to smoke.

He had situated himself at the desk by the window, in his pyjamas, hovering over the piles of papers that almost toppled over into his mug of cold coffee.

For a moment, he considered phoning Lestrade to see if there was a case but, he knew that no matter the situation, it would be boring - John wouldn’t be able to come, he’d have to watch Rosie. Donovan would be there.

Asking Molly Hooper if she had reserved any uniquely spare body parts was an option, but right now she’d be on a date with one of her work friends. (Jasmine? June? He couldn’t quite remember her name.)

And even if Sherlock did have a brilliantly electric triple murder or a fascinating sternocleidomastoid to experiment on, he still wouldn’t be smoking.

That would cancel all the fun out.

He wondered what normal people did, when they wanted to smoke but couldn’t - he supposed they weakly succumbed to the temptation after a lame attempt at tooth picking or nicotine patching or using those silly, flashing electronic things.

In the twenty-six minutes he had been sitting there, he had managed to unconsciously roll six dozen strips of paper.

Although he knew the detrimental and likely fatal consequences of smoking whilst on dialysis, Sherlock searched it up anyway and decided to create a list of pros and cons.

Pros: He’d be happy. Really happy.

Cons: Significant increase in mortality rate, hypertension, John would be disappointed in him, respiratory failure, cardiovascular disease.

It was a difficult decision to make. (He spent the last two hours going back and forth.)

He had just concluded his sixth week of ‘temporary’ dialysis - one week over what was predicted for him. No one except Mycroft knew this fact (of course he did) and he didn’t feel like lingering on it for too long. But every day after that fifth week, a small tally would scratch onto a wall in his mind palace.

The idea of permanently damaged kidneys threatened him, even frightened him, but he had made a promise, all those months ago, to Mary that he’d do whatever it’d take to save John Watson, no matter the consequence. And he had. So whenever Sherlock sensed that petrifying wave of dread near, he remembered that in return for potentially useless kidneys, he had John. Which, to put in perspective, was infinitely better. He often felt better after that.

read the rest of chapter two - only made us closer on ao3.

YEAHHHH WE MADE IT

we made it to chapter two. thank you for all the overwhelming love i recieved on the first chapter. let me know if you'd like to be tagged or removed from the list:

tags: @nathan-no@helloliriels@dragonnan@strawberrywinter4@with-a-ghost-mr-holmes@7-percent@totallysilvergirl@inevitably-johnlocked@meetinginsamarra @pressurepoint221 @gaylilsherlock @catlock-holmes @gaypiningshit @johnlocky @a-victorian-girl @astudyinlaura @discordantwords

[raina-at]

Pride

Omg, you guys, it's the last one! Where did the month go!

A huge, huge thank you to @calaisreno for keeping is going the entire month, and a huge thank you to all of you for reading and writing and gushing and commenting and crying and making this more fun than it had any right to be. I'll miss this!

I did a Pride ficlet last year as a bonus ficlet because I missed two days. I had a lot of ideas for this year's, and maybe I'll post some of them as bonus ficlets through June, but for now, I say goodbye to May with John and Rosie.

--------

"Dad."

"Hmm?"

"Dad!"

John puts down the newspaper. Apparently this is a serious discussion. "Yes, love?"

Rosie throws herself into Sherlock's chair and contorts herself into a pretzel-like shape that can't be comfortable. "I'm...um..." It's apparent she doesn't quite know how to phrase her issue, because she's unnaturally hesitant. Sherlock's influence has made her shockingly blunt, while John's influence has made her shockingly foul-mouthed. Arguing with her is a joy. But now, very untypically, she looks confused and a bit lost.

"Ro, whatever it is, you can tell me," John says, leaning forward, a bit worried now.

"It's..." She sighs, looks down at her hands. "It's a bit personal?"

"Oh my god you're pregnant!" John blurts out, his momentary fear overriding his usually good brain-mouth-filter.

"Dad, what the actual fuck! I'm not fucking pregnant!" Rosie rolls her eyes so hard John wonders if she sprained something. "You know I'm on birth control. You went with me to get my first prescription, for fuck's sake."

"Accidents happen, my dear," John says, gesturing at his lovely daughter, who, light of his life, and joy of his world as she may be, was also very much an unplanned pregnancy.

"Fair enough," Rosie admits, deflating a bit. "Still."

"It wasn't a completely unreasonable assumption. You have a boyfriend, you're twenty, I'm assuming you're having sex."

"Please, dad!" Rosie exclaims, the tips of her ears turning red. "I really don't want to talk about my sex life."

"You think I do?"

Rosie makes a very Sherlock-like  'never mind all that nonsense now' gesture. "Anyway," she says, giving John a glare that tells him to shut up until she's finished. "It's actually kind of about Mark."

John nods, to let her know he's listening, but carefully and deliberately keeps his mouth shut, even as he's thinking, If he hurt you, I'll kill him so fucking dead so quickly he'll never know what hit him.

"It's... you know... he's... well, he's a boy," Rosie finally gets out.

John blinks a few times. Waits a bit. When it's clear Rosie won't be any more forthcoming about the issue, he dares to ask, "And?"

She looks down at her hands, studying them with unwarranted fascination. "I'm..." She sighs. "When did you know you were bisexual?"

John exhales audibly. Now he knows what this is about. In a family of mostly queer people, Rosie seems to have assumed she'd be some kind of queer as well. And if anyone knows how complicated identity can be, especially if it's weighed down by expectation, it's John. "Um. Quite honestly, I'm not sure I am."

Rosie looks up, surprised. "I mean. Mum. And Paps. Um. You know..." she makes a 'please fill in the gaps yourself' gesture.

"Look," John says, leaning forward and taking his daughter's hands. "I personally think labels are vastly overrated. If a word, or a label, or a phrase, helps you to better understand yourself, that's great. Use that label as long as it serves you, and if it doesn't anymore, use another one. As for me, I was raised in an environment where being different was bad. What kind of different you were exactly was completely beside the point. And I saw first-hand how the world treated your aunt, so I thought, best not think about it. I wasn't that attracted to men, it wasn't difficult to ignore. Until I met Paps, and you know how difficult he is to ignore."

Rosie grins. "Oh, yeah. So Paps made you bi?"

"No, you know it doesn't work like that. He made me... " John answers, smiling fondly at the memory. "Well, quite simply, he made me fall in love. He was—still is, of course—the most intriguing, gorgeous, infuriating, exasperating, fascinating person I've ever met, and I fell in love with him so hard, and so fast. But I wasn't ready, and he wasn't ready, and it took us years to get our acts together. And part of that was that we both couldn't accept a fundamental truth: The heart wants what the heart wants. Fighting against it only brings misery and destruction." He squeezes Rosie's hands. "So. Do you love Mark?"

She nods, her eyes shining with the truth of it.

"Is he good to you? Good for you?"

She nods again.

"Then who the fuck cares about anything else?"

Rosie's silent for a bit, apparently mulling over his words, still holding on to his hands. "So," she finally says, looking up from her joint hands with a smile. "You'll love me even if I'm straight?"

"Well, love, I suppose I can overlook this glaring character flaw. Also, you might meet a stunning lesbian when you're forty and she'll rock your entire world and turn everything you thought you knew about yourself upside down. And I want you to remember," he says, leaning in a bit more, looking deeply into her eyes, "I'm fine with everything, as long as you give me some grandkids first."

Rosie laughs and pushes him away. "Fuck off."

John gets up and makes his way to the kitchen. "So, sexual identity crisis over? You want to have some tea now?"

"Of course I want tea. But what you're saying, if I understand you correctly, is not to assume I'm straight just because I fell in love with a man?"

"I'm saying," John says, flicking the kettle on, "is that it doesn't matter, love. Gay, straight, pan, bi, ace, all these labels are useful if they help you understand yourself. But if you feel boxed in by a label, don't use it. Use another one. Use none at all. Let nothing ever keep you from knowing and understanding your own heart. That's the only thing that matters. I might be bi, who knows. The important thing is that I love Sherlock with all my heart, and that I made a commitment to him. Everything else is just noise."

Rosie is quiet for a bit, looking thoughtfully at the fire crackling cherrily in the hearth of 221B. "You're getting soft in your old age, Dad," she finally says, with a grateful smile.

John hands her a mug, drops a kiss on her head. "Love you too, dear," he says, smiling into her hair.

----

Don't forget that I'm collecting these ficlets here on AO3, and don't forget to check out the wonderful collection of May prompt ficlets as well. I know I'm already looking forward to reading all of them again.

Tags under the cut as usual.

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jrow @peanitbear @jolieblack @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @friday411 @givemesherbet-blog-blog @weeesi @thalialunacy @thegildedbee @dapetty @salmonsown

[lisbeth-kk]

Magical wardrobes

Sherlock fandom. Rosie's in for quite a surprise.

As per usual there are lots of cooing over how big Rosie’s gotten when the Holmes-Watsons arrive at Sherlock’s parents.

“For pity’s sake, mummy. You saw her last month. It’s not like she grows like that now that she’s nine years old,” Sherlock huffs.

Before John gets a chance to scold Sherlock, his mother glares at her youngest son with the infamous Mummy look, and Sherlock shuts his mouth.

“Grandpa and I have a surprise for you,” Mrs. Holmes tells Rosie. “Come upstairs.”

John and Sherlock follow the elderly Holmes’s and Rosie, and they smile at each other when they hear Rosie’s excited scream.

“Do you know anything about this?” John asks his husband.

“Me? Not a clue, John,” Sherlock lies effortlessly.

“Thought as much,” John says, knowing fully that Sherlock’s taking the piss.

Rosie’s eyes are wide and beaming when she turns to face her fathers. John is utterly surprised as he takes in the room. The dark oak beams on the ceiling, make the room look intimate. Emerald green wallpaper covers all the walls, the floorboards have the same hue as the beams. In the middle of the room is a four-poster bed with golden curtains. A gigantic bookshelf is placed on one wall, a chest of drawers on the other, but what Rosie’s most thrilled about is the wardrobe.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” John mutters under his breath.

Strong arms envelopes him from behind and Sherlock’s curls tickle his cheek when the owner of said curls bends down to John’s ear.

“It took Father and me eight weeks to finish, with a little help from a local carpenter and a skilled artist,” Sherlock whispers. “Just wait until she opens it.”

John turns his head to ghost his lips over Sherlock’s.

“Has anyone told you how amazing you are?” John murmurs, his lips just millimetres from Sherlock’s.

“Once or twice,” Sherlock admits cheekily, kissing John soundly, before entangling himself.

He moves toward Rosie and crouches down in front of her and takes her small hand in his large one.

“Do you want to open it, petal?” Sherlock asks softly.

John must swallow hard when he hears Sherlock using the pet name on Rosie. At home, he only uses her name or Bee, but here in his parents’ house, he tends to call her “flower” or “petal”. It always takes John by surprise and makes him rather emotional.

Rosie looks seriously at Sherlock and nods. She walks over to the grand wardrobe, lifts her hand to the doorknob, then hesitates and turns to the four people looking expectantly at her.

“Go on, dear,” Mr. Holmes urges her.

Rosie bites her lip, and John understands that he needs to step in. His little girl is nervous, and probably afraid to get disappointed of what hides behind those doors. 

All of them, including Mrs. Hudson, Molly, even Mycroft, have read “The chronicles of Narnia” to her over the last year. This room is so like the one in the books, and being the daughter of the scientist, Sherlock Holmes and having Mycroft as an uncle, explains her uncertainty now. They’ve made it quite clear that all of it is fiction, written to entertain, not to be compared with her subject books from school.

“Let’s do it together, love,” John whispers and takes Rosie’s hand.

She looks up at him with relief written all over her face, and the lump in John’s throat makes a re-appearance. A familiar hand is placed on the small of John’s back, another on Rosie’s head.

“Ready, Watsons?” Sherlock rumbles affectionately.

Rosie’s about to complain about leaving the Holmes name out, but John nudges her forward.

Neither of them is prepared for what’s been hiding behind the wooden doors. There’s a small recess in the back of the wardrobe. The wall is painted just like the winter landscape from Narnia, with the lamp post and snow-covered pine trees. A yellow armchair, a tea set placed on a small table, a floor lamp and a colourful rug are filling the recess perfectly.

Rosie lets go of John’s hand and walks over to the tableau, stroking her hands and fingers over the surfaces. She seems to be in a trance, totally unaware of the others present.

John turns to Sherlock and hugs him fiercely. Sherlock wraps his arms around him, kissing his hair.

“It’s perfect,” John murmurs against Sherlock’s chest.

Sherlock hums in agreement and they both look over at their daughter, now trying out the armchair.

“How do you like it, dear,” Mrs. Holmes asks, breaking the silence.

Rosie blinks at her. She’s clearly been so engrossed in her own little universe, forgetting all about the outer world.

“I love it!” she exclaims. “Obviously,” she adds under her breath, making Sherlock chuckle quietly, and within moments they’re all laughing heartily.

The Narnia universe was one of my favourites as a child, and it was the first to come to mind when the prompt was revealed. I would've loved to have something similar back then...

@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @phoenix27884 @a-victorian-girl @safedistancefrombeingsmart @topsyturvy-turtely @gregorovitchworld @helloliriels @missdeliadili