#sherlock teaches john to dance

[howmanyholesinswisscheese]

More Sherlock & Co Headcanons

Because y'all like the first ones so much.

Mariana is one of those heathens who eats the kernels at the bottom of the popcorn bowl and enjoys it.

John and Sherlock have a rotating cast of answers to the age old client question, "So are you two...?" which only serve to confuse the asker even more. It's an incredibly enjoyable sport. Sherlock often just plays dumb, to John's enormous amusement. It's their favorite inside joke.

When he does actually eat it, Sherlock's go-to breakfast food is a boiled egg and soldiers. Fight me. I will not stand for boiled eggs and soldiers slander they are amazing and Sherlock knows it.

John keeps a collection of bloopers/funny moments he's recorded during cases in a folder on his computer. When he's feeling down, he puts in his earplugs and listens to them. He never fails to get a laugh out of it.

Speaking of language headcanons in the last post, Sherlock speaks fluent Spanish (because of course he does). Sometimes he and Mariana have innocuous conversations in Spanish just to mess with John. He finally gets what it's like to be a stranger watching them all converse in BSL.

Sherlock has a strong appreciation for the musical arts. Once, after a particularly sour case, John took Sherlock to the orchestra to lighten his mood. Sherlock didn't express much outward enjoyment, still drained from the previous week's labor, but the next day the pieces they'd heard rang out through the flat as Sherlock's touch brought them to life from memory on his violin. John found this version infinitely more beautiful than any orchestra. and he even glimpsed the ghost of a smile as Sherlock lost himself in the music.

You know how everyone has a different little doodle they do when they're bored and they've got a pen and a bit of paper around? Well, Sherlock does mandalas and circle scribbles, John does little smiley faces and zig zags, and Mariana writes peoples names in calligraphy.

@obsessed-sketches and I both agree Sherlock wears a really heavy, well-worn coat for the deep-pressure stimulation. And a scarf, because those are absolutely splendid to play/fiddle with and being all wrapped up just adds a whole nother dimension to it all.

John uses Microsoft Edge as his default browser. Mariana's exasperated protests have been completely futile in convincing him to switch and to be honest, who knows if there's any hope left for him anymore.

Speaking of browsers, Sherlock would be such a boss at the 2048 game.

Someday I'm gonna have to write a dance lesson fic, because the idea of Sherlock teaching John to dance for a case lives in my head rent free for literally every SH rendition but these two especially. Sherlock freely infodumping about the history of each song he plays as he shows John how to waltz, John filling the silence with nervous rambling, that rapport setting in and them just falling into step after a few minutes and forgetting time is even passing... I know I mostly HC them as a QPR but dear god the intimacy in that may kill me.

Mariana once introduced Sherlock to the National Day Calendar. National Cellophane Tape Day, National Life Insurance Day, National Raspberry Popover Day, and the likes are now slipped happily into conversations at 221B under Sherlock's firm belief that each one is on par with Christmas in terms of their significance in the public eye. Slay, Sherlock. National Days are awesome.

John makes the cutest sleep noises.

Yk how i said Sherlock likes rainbow sour straps. If you've ever eaten sour straps, you'll know there are two ways to eat them: whole, or by tearing the colours into strips. Clearly, as a civilised human being, Sherlock does the latter.

SHERLOCK WOULD TOTALLY WRITE AWESOME POETRY AND READ IT OUT AND JOHN AND MARIANA WOULD BE STUNNED INTO AWESTRUCK SILENCE

Mariana wears those really big hoop earrings. You know the ones.

AAAAH i should stop before this becomes a mammoth block of text. Maybe I'll make a part three.

Thank you kindly for being unwillingly subjected to my opinions coming to my TED talk.

[asherloki]

Until I found you

Sherlock x reader

Word count:- 815

Fluff

"oh how wonderful indeed" I exclaimed as I touched each string of violin in order with my index finger, making it buzz. Sherlock was still stuck with his microscope, examining the specimen he's been given by Hopkins recently. This officer, Stella Hopkins, she's a huge fan of Sherlock and to our surprise Sherlock doesn't mind her, he says "this young officer has potential". I took his violin as no response came from the man with the microscope. Imitating how Sherlock holds his violin I took the bow in other hand. When I let it touch the strings, it made an awful sound. That's when I turned and found out the detective lifted his head from it.

"You didn't hold any chord did you?" he enquired getting up from his chair, leaving the kitchen table as it is, messy.

"I don't play violin detective, so I don't know the chords" I replied putting the violin down. As I turned back again I saw my man was walking towards me or was he walking towards the violin?

"perhaps you'd be interested in learning it?" he offered as he stood infront of me.

"how many times have I offered you to learn a bit of piano from me Mr Holmes?" I teased him and I was delighted at how he pouted at my teasing. Whenever we visit my mum's I always play my old piano, perhaps I've asked him to play it a thousand times and he didn't agree to do so for once. Even though I caught him once or twice admiring it, as he pressed a few keys with his index finger.

"I'm not a pianist, sorry Mrs Holmes" him referring me as Mrs Holmes has never failed to make me giggle, "guitar, Ukulele, all the instruments you own" he said walking past me and grabbing his violin, "I'm fascinated by you" he praised holding his violin over his shoulder, then spinning the knobs as he tuned it.

"you were?" I enquired, sitting on the arm of his chair as he faced the window.

"wrong" he replied taking the bow in hand, "I still am, very much fascinated".

I smiled, did he smile too? who knows. Even after being his wife I can't always tell what's going on in his head, the mystery that he is, the man that he is.

"I always wanted to learn violin next" I said for I've always been drawn to how wonderful this musical instrument sounds.

"why didn't you?" Sherlock asked staring at his dearest violin.

"here you are" I replied, the only musical instrument I knew not how to play, my husband does, and he does it wonderfully, "you can, maybe one day I'll have enough courage to ask you to teach me too".

He gave me a hum in response, as if he wondered 'when will you be genuinely willing?'

"what will you play Sherlock?" I enquired, wanting to know if he has prepared anything, he loves to compose sometimes, he did one for me, the day we were married, three years ago, twenty second November, he made a rather happy melody for me. It was so joyous that everyone asked about it, like what is the inspiration behind it. He replied "my sunshine", he named it so as well. For he says he's never truly been happy, until I came one day, while he was playing with Rosie, John's daughter. He says he felt as if the sunrise for which he waited for a long time, rose that day.

"something my wife would love" he replied turning a bit to me, his smile indicated he will play my favourite song. A song that sounds beautiful when he plays it for me. And then his bow touched the strings, and the buzz was perfect, for the man held the right chords, unlike me. With Swift movements of his fingers, as if they were dancing on the chords and the bow sliding over the strings he started the part that goes,

heaven, when I held you again....

I smiled widely as my guess was correct, the song he says is ours, for he never fell in love, true love, in his entire life until he found me. Seriously though, the cold, grumpy detective, melted for someone like me, immature they say, childish too, young, alot younger than him, but then, I love him, so does he.

"would you mind humming with me?" he asked turning to me, with a nod I agreed and started singing,

"I would never fall in love again until I found her" he hummed as I sung then the next line, he joined me,

"I said I will never fall unless it's you.."

"I'm falling to" I continued,

"I was lost within the darkness" we sung together, looking at eachother, for we dedicated these lines to one another, "but then I found her... I found you..."

[sidneypagget]

John’s sign language bad bc too much time spent on dancing lessons. They just sit around and Sherlock teaches him things.

[aifanfictions]

Write a story where Sherlock Holmes (BBC) falls in love with Rosie’s nanny. He likes that way she is so maternal towards Rosie that he starts thinking about having kids of his own.

Maternal Mysteries

Baker Street was as enigmatic as ever, and the legendary detective, Sherlock Holmes, was as brilliant and aloof as his reputation suggested. His brilliant mind was a whirlwind of ceaseless activity, constantly seeking out puzzles and mysteries to solve. But amidst the chaos of his tumultuous life, there was one mystery that had eluded him for far too long – the mystery of the human heart.

Rosie, the toddler daughter of Dr. John Watson, had brought an unexpected source of light and warmth into the once stern and stoic residence. Her laughter and curiosity were a stark contrast to the clinical and analytical atmosphere that usually permeated 221B Baker Street. It was her nanny, (Y/N), who bore the responsibility of caring for Rosie and taming the chaos of the household.

(Y/N) was a nurturing presence, her maternal instincts shining brightly. She was kind, patient, and endlessly gentle with Rosie, her soothing lullabies and loving presence a balm to the child's heart. Sherlock had never paid much heed to such matters before, but something about the way (Y/N) cared for Rosie intrigued him.

One evening, Sherlock found himself in a rare moment of reflection. He observed (Y/N) sitting on the floor, helping Rosie with a jigsaw puzzle, and a flicker of admiration lit up in his calculating eyes. It wasn't just her nurturing nature that intrigued him; it was the way her mind worked, the patience with which she guided Rosie through the intricate puzzle. (Y/N) was not just a nanny; she was a puzzle-solver in her own right.

Sherlock's curiosity was piqued. He decided to test her, setting up a complex puzzle that had left him momentarily stumped. With a subtle smile, he watched as (Y/N) knelt beside Rosie, taking a glance at the puzzle and its intricate pieces.

As (Y/N) examined the puzzle, her brow furrowed, and she started analyzing it systematically, just as she did with Rosie's puzzles. Sherlock's heart, a place he rarely ventured, skipped a beat as he realized that (Y/N) was unlike anyone he had ever met.

It took her only a matter of minutes to piece the puzzle together, and when she did, her eyes sparkled with triumph. "There you go, Rosie," she said with a soft smile, showing Rosie the completed puzzle. "We did it!"

Sherlock watched in silent awe, and for the first time, he realized that there were mysteries in life far more intriguing than crimes and conundrums. He was fascinated by the way (Y/N) approached life – with a motherly heart and a keen, analytical mind.

Over the following weeks, Sherlock found himself observing (Y/N) more closely. Her kindness, her maternal nature, and the way she solved puzzles with such ease fascinated him. He watched her teach Rosie about the world, and he saw how his once-chaotic life had been transformed by the presence of (Y/N) and Rosie.

One evening, as the embers of a fire danced in the hearth, Sherlock found himself alone with (Y/N) in the sitting room. He observed her gentle smile and the way she effortlessly cared for Rosie.

"(Y/N), you are truly remarkable," he said, his voice tinged with genuine admiration.

She looked up, her eyes meeting his. "Sherlock, what's come over you? You're not usually one for such compliments."

He cleared his throat and continued, "I've been observing you, and I've come to realize how extraordinary you are. Your patience, your analytical mind, your maternal instincts – they're all rather impressive."

(Y/N) blushed, feeling both flattered and surprised by Sherlock's words. "Thank you, Sherlock. That means a lot coming from you."

Sherlock's heart pounded as he searched for the right words, something that had always come easily to him, except in matters of the heart. "I've been thinking about… children, lately. It's a rather curious notion, I know, but I've been contemplating it."

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Children, Sherlock? I never imagined you considering something like that."

Sherlock nodded, his voice softer than it had ever been. "Yes, well, you see, the way you care for Rosie, the way you approach life, has made me reevaluate things. It's a mystery I can't seem to solve, but it's a mystery that I find myself drawn to."

(Y/N) smiled warmly, her heart touched by his sincerity. "Sherlock, that's quite a revelation. Perhaps some mysteries are better left unsolved, but instead embraced."

In that quiet moment, the detective who had always believed in the power of logic and reason found himself facing the most enigmatic puzzle of all – the mysteries of the human heart. And in (Y/N)'s maternal presence and gentle spirit, he discovered a love and desire he had never known before.

As time passed, Sherlock and (Y/N) continued to care for Rosie, and their bond deepened. The mysteries of crime may have been Sherlock's profession, but the mysteries of the human heart were the most beguiling of all.

And so, as Sherlock navig

ated the uncharted territory of love and family, he soon realized that he had embarked on the most profound journey of his life.

One evening, as the city's mysteries called him away on another case, he left (Y/N) and Rosie behind, a familiar ache in his heart. It was during his absence that (Y/N) stumbled upon a new puzzle, one that could hold the key to their shared future.

A series of cryptic messages and strange occurrences had been left behind in their sitting room. The room was in disarray, with papers scattered, and books haphazardly arranged. Rosie had been drawing pictures, her scribbles and innocent creativity adding to the chaotic scene.

(Y/N), with her keen eye for detail, couldn't help but notice that there was something more to this apparent mess. The scribbles on Rosie's paper held an uncanny resemblance to symbols she had seen before, symbols that appeared to be part of a code.

Curiosity and a dash of excitement spurred (Y/N) into action. She began to piece together the clues, following the trail of enigmatic symbols left behind by the culprit. It was a puzzle that Sherlock himself would have admired, one that demanded a blend of analytical skill and creative thinking.

As she delved deeper into the mystery, (Y/N) found herself uncovering secrets that had eluded even Sherlock. The puzzles led her on a winding path through the city, and she was determined to get to the bottom of this cryptic enigma.

When Sherlock returned from his case, he found an expectant (Y/N) waiting for him, a glint of excitement in her eyes. She had cracked the code, and her heart swelled with pride as she unveiled the solution.

Sherlock, renowned for his ability to solve even the most perplexing mysteries, was taken aback. He couldn't help but be impressed by (Y/N)'s deduction skills. It was a moment that made him appreciate her even more.

With the puzzle solved and the case closed, Sherlock found himself looking at (Y/N) with newfound admiration. He was falling in love, not just with her, but with the idea of a family of their own, with children whose laughter and curiosity would fill Baker Street.

"(Y/N), you never cease to amaze me," he confessed, his voice carrying a warmth and vulnerability that was entirely unfamiliar to him. "Your maternal instincts, your deductive skills, your nurturing nature – they're all qualities I never knew I needed in my life."

(Y/N) smiled, her heart dancing with a newfound hope. "Sherlock, I never imagined that someone like you would appreciate someone like me. But I must admit, you're a mystery I'm willing to explore."

In the midst of the mysteries that had brought them together, Sherlock and (Y/N) discovered a love that was deeper and more profound than any puzzle they had ever encountered. Their shared journey of caring for Rosie and solving life's enigmas had led them to a love that was both unexpected and extraordinary.

Sherlock's heart had finally cracked the most enigmatic code of all – the code of love. And in (Y/N) and Rosie, he had found the most fulfilling and delightful mystery of his life.

As they continued their lives together on Baker Street, the detective who had once believed in the supremacy of reason and logic found that love was the most mysterious and enchanting puzzle of all, one that would unravel with each tender moment and cherished memory.

NOTE! This story was generated by OpenAI

[strawberrywinter4]

I love it when they dance, in public or just by themselves. For your prompts if you wish.

Thank you so much for this prompt! I love slow dancing and this was a joy to write.

A Love So Deep

Fandom: Sherlock (TV)

Tags: Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Romance, Dancing, Slow Dancing, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Kisses, They love each other so much, Sappy, Angelo is always there to help, Post-Season/Series 04, Post-Mary Morstan

Read here on ao3.

*•*•*•

A simple dinner at Angelo’s is all they really need, even for their anniversary.

A few years ago, Sherlock would have never accepted something so simple. Or more like, he would have never even accepted something so sentimental, let alone embark on a romantic date.

But as Sherlock has experienced, what seems like, many lifetimes and many experiences, he doesn’t mind John taking him to somewhere as dull as Angelo’s. And of course, there is the fact that John is taking him.

Rosie has been dropped off at Molly’s for the afternoon and no cases are coming forth to interrupt them. Though even if one did come, Sherlock wouldn’t protest.

But John does seem giddy to take him out, so Sherlock supposes he’ll not wish any to come to their attention.

As they arrive at the corner of the small restaurant, Sherlock instantly notices that the interior is empty. He looks down at John, who seems to be unalarmed.

John opens the door for him without comment, and Sherlock slowly walks in, taking in the restaurant’s alluring set-up. Candles are the only thing illuminating the dark space and all the tables are put to the side.

“John…” Sherlock croaks.

A hand wraps around Sherlock’s waist as the blogger pulls him in, kissing his cheek. ���I know it’s not exactly your thing,” John starts, “but I figured it’d be more… pleasant if it were just us.”

Angelo comes from the back, holding a bottle of wine and two glasses. “And I was happy to help!” Angelo adds, gesturing them to their usual table in the corner. “Sit, sit.”

Sherlock huffs a disbelieving laugh as he takes his seat near the window, John sitting beside him.

“No wonder you were so thrilled for dinner,” Sherlock says as Angelo pours their glasses.

“How could I not be?” says John. “I’m quite proud of myself, I’ll have you know.”

“One more,” Angelo advises, lighting another candle between them. “More romantic.”

Sherlock knows it’s a sick paranoia, but he waits for John to deny Angelo’s statement. Of course, nothing comes, John only smiling in thanks. Relief settles in Sherlock’s chest, which is ridiculous since John hasn’t corrected anyone’s assumptions for the past three years. It’s quite literally been heaven.

Angelo leaves to prepare their food, not bothering to ask for their order since he’s memorized their usual by heart.

“This is quite theatrical, John,” Sherlock says.

John hums. “Too much?”

“Not at all,” Sherlock responds, allowing himself to look at John with full adoration. “It’s wonderful.”

“Then it seems I’ve done my part,” John says.

A slow, harmonious melody begins to play. Sherlock blinks and looks in the corner to see Angelo has set up a CD player. The man puts a thumb up in support.

“Right on cue,” John compliments with a chuckle. The blogger stands and extends his hand. Sherlock takes it without hesitation, his heart swelling.

John leads them to the middle of the room, where the space is unusually empty and wide. John places his hand on Sherlock’s waist and Sherlock holds John’s shoulder. John’s free hand takes Sherlocks, wrapping their fingers together, entangling them.

Sherlock’s mind can’t help but drift as he remembers him and John being in this exact same position in preparation for John’s wedding. Sherlock remembers teaching John the specific steps, leading him across the flat, at first clumsily, but then with ease once they repeated the process several times.

Sherlock remembers the ache in his chest when he danced so close to John, chest to chest. He remembers the longing. He remembers how it was torture that they weren’t doing it out of pleasure, but out of practice.

“Sherlock?” John asks, tilting his head to make eye contact with him.

Sherlock blinks and matches his eyes with John. “Yes?”

“Lost you there for a bit,” John tells him, slight concern in his voice. “Alright?”

Sherlock nods, holding John’s hand tighter. “More than.”

John seems to relax at the reassurance. He pulls Sherlock in closer, beginning to move his feet. “It’s just you and me, love,” John whispers against his lips. “It’s just us.”

Sherlock gets lost in John’s eyes as he nods.

They dance slowly, swaying with each other as they just hold one another, bask in each other’s presence. The song crescendos, the lights of London peaking through the window, creating a subtle spotlight.

Sherlock leans down and rests his head on John’s shoulder, burying his face into the blogger’s neck. The scent of John’s cheap shampoo hits his nose, the smell of his cologne is so familiar and comforting.

John’s hand lifts from Sherlock’s waist and runs through the detective’s curls.

“You’re my world, my universe,” John murmurs into Sherlock’s ear, hushed and personal. “I’m never letting you go again, love. Never.”

Sherlock listens silently, kissing John’s neck to show him that he understands, that he’s grateful for such devotion.

“My clever detective… you’re brilliant,” says John, the words flowing out so easily, it makes Sherlock flush. “So brilliant. I knew it from the first day we met. I knew you were going to be something to me, something exceptional.”

Sherlock lifts his head, looking into John’s eyes. His lips part to say something, but nothing comes. Instead, he leans forward and kisses John deeply. John sighs into the kiss, pressing back into Sherlock with the same eagerness and want. Once they pull away, Sherlock finally gains back his breath.

“I’m very glad to be something to you, John,” Sherlock whispers, his voice sincere.

“Oh, darling, you’re not just something anymore.” John cups Sherlock’s jaw, pressing their foreheads together. “You’re everything.”

*•*•*•

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

(Please let me know if you don’t wish to be tagged! And thank you so much for the reblogs, my loves <3)

[deelaundry]

May Prompts #8-11 - Hobby, Intimidation, Choice, Secret

Continuing to update The Private Personal Blog of Dr. John H. Watson. For those who haven’t read the prior chapters, Sherlock and John have a committed QPR. Claire is John’s Sherlock-approved sex partner; she recently started going on cases with Sherlock because John is extremely busy with his retraining for emergency medicine.

Prompt 8-11: Hobby, Intimidation, Choice, Secret

John has made A Choice.

Capital A, Capital C.

We’re back to being Milne, although perhaps John never stopped.

The choice is not to be a complete asshole about what he’s just discovered, even though he’s fairly well burning with jealousy.

It’s always intimidated him, this thing, and so of course Sherlock would find someone else to do it with. It’s not cheating, not outside the bounds of their relationship.

It’s just –

Well, a lot of things. He never knew Sherlock was into it, for one, and why didn’t he? It shouldn’t be a secret, at least between partners the way he and Sherlock are. What is it about John that Sherlock never told him? Because clearly the man loves it.

And it’s a thing for couples, isn’t it? Obviously, not everyone’s a couple – not if it’s your hobby or profession, generally – but most are. And while obviously he and Sherlock don’t do everything, or maybe even most things, your standard couple do, they could do this. Couldn’t they?

John’s intimidated by it, as stated before, but he could learn! And he would learn, for Sherlock. Maybe he wouldn’t be as good as it as Claire

And here’s he’s going to remind himself that he made A Choice, The Choice not to be an asshole about this! Even though Claire is so good at it, it makes John seethe. Even though Claire and Sherlock now are doing a second thing for hours every week, spending time together, having experiences together that John wants to be having with Sherlock.

Maybe John should use the spare time he doesn’t have to take up boxing or mixed martial arts.

Some way to release these feelings, because he likes Claire, he truly does. Sherlock is always going to be Number One for John, but it’s nice to have another number in there. Someone to be yourself with. He’s got that now with Claire, and it feels good, so why should he begrudge the same thing to Sherlock?

And it’s not like John has pined to learn how to waltz. He would have gone his whole life without giving any thought to doing it himself, if Sherlock and Claire hadn’t taken it up together.

He could ask them to teach him, but they can’t all three dance. There are limits!

(Comment on AO3)

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl

[inevitably-johnlocked]

I have no idea if you're still answering anything despite your hiatus and constant uploads, but could you recommend any fics that include drinking games, or just getting to know each other hang outs with the squad (not just John and Sherlock)? I love the friendships!

Hey Lovely!

Ah, I'm done my 2 week hiatus, and even then I was, as you said, still fairly active LOL. I just needed a break from feeling obligated to get new lists out right away, is all! :)

I do have a few lists you might enjoy:

Games

Games Pt. 2

Drunk and Drinking Johnlock

Drunk and Drinking Johnlock Pt 2

Those are pretty broad lists, so here's the exact fics from them you may prefer. If Anyone has any they want to suggest, as always, please do!

DRINKING GAMES / HANGING OUT

Never Have I Ever by Hannelore-Grace(T, 2,073 w., 1 Ch. || Humour, Friendship, Drinking Games) – In which the Yarders, Sherlock, and John play the time-honored drinking game.

Bored Games by patster223(K+, 2,769 w., 1 Ch. || Cluedo / Board Games, Friendship, Humour) – Sherlock is bored and John decides that they should play Cluedo. In retrospect, it was a truly awful decision.

Paranoia by Ewebie(M, 3,789 w., 1 Ch. || Humour, Drinking Games, Scotland Yard Gang, Jealous / Possessive Sherlock, Inappropriate Questions, Embarrassed John, Matchmakers) – John and Sherlock join the gang of Scotland Yard for a night of drinking, and it gets a bit personal and revealing.

Right Foot Red by Irrevocably_Sherlocked(E, 3,089 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss/Time, Board Games, Frottage, Masturbation, PWP, Friends to Lovers, Come as Lube, Come Marking) – ...ok, it’s juvenile, but at least it’s a game where touching is allowed. And if something more were to happen, well, John can’t say he’d be too upset about that. “What are the rules of this game?” Sherlock asks, the disdain evident on the word ‘game’. “I spin, you do as I say.” John thinks he sees a slight widening of those pale grey eyes at that, just for a fraction of a second, before it is shut down. Oh, this is interesting, he thinks.

The Hand You're Dealt by MapleleafCameo(M, 9,806 w., 6 Ch. || Humour, Friendship, Card Games, Alternate First Meeting, No Slash / Platonic Relationship) – John wouldn't have minded so much if only Sherlock would stop introducing him as 'John Watson. I won him in a poker game.’

The Hand You're Dealt by MapleleafCameo(M, 10,624 w., 6 Ch. || Humour, Friendship, Card Games, Alternate First Meeting, No Slash / Platonic Relationship) – John wouldn't have minded so much if only Sherlock would stop introducing him as 'John Watson. I won him in a poker game.’

Never Have I Ever by hudders-and-hiddles(E, 10,655 w., 1 Ch. || Pining Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Drinking Games, Love Confessions, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers) – John and Sherlock tag along for the Met's weekly night out, where the evening's chosen drinking game is Never Have I Ever. Sherlock is reluctant to join in until he realizes he can learn all kinds of new things about John, but he forgets that John might learn a thing or two about him as well.

Out of the Woods by SilentAuror(E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Pining Sherlock, Frustrated Wanking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Bum Appreciation, Hanging out with the Yard) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

MARKED FOR LATER

Sherlock Learns How To Play Strip Poker (and loses badly)  by wendymarlowe (E, 5,127 w., 3 Ch. || Strip Games, Strip Poker, Blindfolds, First Time) – Sherlock has deleted the rules to poker, so he demands John teach him. Strip poker, because why not. And blindfolded, because John refuses to play without Sherlock having a handicap to counteract his giant brain. The fact that John can now ogle Sherlock's increasingly-nude body is just a bonus, of course. Part 33 of John and Sherlock's Kinky First Times

In a manner of speaking I'm dead by fellshish (T, 6,372 w., 1 Ch. || Halloween, Mystrade, Angst With Happy Ending, PIning, First Kiss, Drunk Idiots, Drinking Games, Humour) – Sherlock and John accidentally dress in matching outfits for Lestrade's Halloween party. Things only get worse: someone pushes them to play 'Never have I ever'.

Spin The Bottle by helloliriels (M, 8,120 w., 6 Ch. || Drinking Games, Calls/Phones, Strip Games, Truth or Dare) – Have you ever played this game before, Sherlock?

The Mole by ChrisCalledMeSweetie (T, 18,378 w., 8 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Reality TV AU ||  Mystery, Adventure, Games, First Kiss/Time, Humour, Romance) – Ten strangers — Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Martha Hudson, Molly Hooper, Jim Moriarty, Greg Lestrade, Sally Donovan, Philip Anderson, Mary Morstan, and Irene Adler — must work as a team to win money on a reality TV show hosted by Mycroft Holmes. The twist? One of them is a mole, hired by the producers to sabotage the game.

The Last Drop by Phyona (M, 20,185 w. || Pre-Slash, UST, Drinking & Talking, Drinking Games, Spooning, Witty Banter, Intense Conversations) – Sherlock and John fend off boredom with a night of heavy drinking. Part 1 of the The First and Last Trilogy series

[londonlock]

the whole point of the scene where sherlock teaches janine how to dance has two points. one is to establish that he and john danced together behind closed curtains. the second point is to establish that he loves to dance. they deliberately conveyed that he loves to dance because no one, no one, wants to dance with him and it hurts because he loves it so much. and he said he dreams of finding the right case to integrate his ballet skills into, but all the cases at johns wedding are done. even janine found a partner, which was his first case of the day. he WAS looking for the right case, but right then, there was no case to solve. and no one who, in his eyes, cared about him enough. he had no fix, no friends. so he went away and descended into drugs because then he could have a fix and forget that no one wanted to dance with him.

[topsyturvy-turtely]

OTP challenge - day 15

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

[link to day 14]

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

15: teaching each other how to do something

(pt. 2/2)

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

tag list! (tell me if you wanna be added or removed 💚) @catlock-holmes @justanobsessedpan @helloliriels @boredsushi @fluffbyday-smutbynight @inevitably-johnlocked @hisfavouritejumper @rhasima @forfucksakejohn @ohlooktheresabee @turbulenttrouble @7arantellgrrl @ssmeowl123 @so-youre-unattached-like-me @totallysilvergirl @peanitbear @train-mossman @loki-lock @smulderscobie @timberva @grace-in-the-wilderness @chinike @pansherlock @the-smol-bean-libby-blog @jawnn-watson @whatnext2020 @escapingthereality @missdeliadili @kettykika78 @musingsofmyown @7-percent @speedymoviesbyscience @astudyin221b @francj15 @almosttinycowboy @ladylindaaa @we-r-loonies @mxster-jocale @sherlockcorner @noahspector @our-stars-graveside @jobooksncoffee

[lordofthestrix]

kingofthewebxxx 🙈

Send me your URL and I'll tell you

My Opinion on;

Character in general: I initially had an internal short-circuit while attempting to get into the right head-space to watch BBC Sherlock and I suspect that the reason why is that I'm extremely fond of the mystery genre. I'm the kind of person who closes the mystery novel and allows it to rest before the resolution until I have my own final solution for the intrigue. I am the one who would pause the whodunit film after a certain point and suggest we should just enjoy talking and making theories of our own before continuing. And...I sound positively insufferable don't I? The point is, beyond the nature of its episodes as drastic reinterpretations of their literary counterparts, for the most part, you are not genuinely supposed to...Solve anything in Sherlock. You are simply supposed to see the words on screen and enjoy the quick flashes of a myriad connections reaching a conclusion. The show is much more interested in delving into the minds of these people whose greater than life intelligence is so overwhelming it somewhat exiles them from showing much interest in most facets of the rest of the world outside of their own particular obsessions, along with the restless mind that would come from it. Or as Mycroft comments: "If you seem slow to me, Sherlock, can you imagine what real people are like? I'm living in a world of goldfish." And in that sense, Jim's version of Moriarty is a perfectly interesting "What would that look like?" to the premise suggested in the first episode.

DONOVAN: One day we’ll be standing round a body and Sherlock Holmes’ll be the one that put it there. JOHN: Why would he do that? DONOVAN: Because he’s a psychopath. And psychopaths get bored. While Sherlock's journey is in part about discovering and embracing more of that humanity and those connections, Moriarty works with the story as the obvious opposite of that path. And in that role he is quite exciting, quite fun, quite theatrical and dangerous and tortured. I just spent five minutes in a fruitless quest to search for the exact quote but I remember that Tristan's impression of him during their initial chapters included something along the lines of: -He appears to be in love with being himself while simultaneously having no idea whatsoever how to endure being himself for longer the five minutes without a distraction- I never agreed with the widespread idea that everyone sees themselves as the hero of their own story so he instantly receives a point from me for defining himself under the terms of 'Every fairy tale needs a good old-fashioned villain'

How they play them: Very well and very devotedly. Beyond a great portrayal I always enjoy your headcanon posts whenever those appear and your ability to make Jim make sense in all sorts of different universes is remarkable as well. The Mun: Mori is always lovely and I should extend her an apology for the monthly-delay in between my replies. If this meme is teaching me something, it is how nonexistent my out of character activity truly is within this realm.

Do I:

RP with them: Yes. Tristan and Jim have a friendly...How do you call whatever this is? A mutual acknowledgement that the other is interesting? "As for more crystalline introductions. Let's say that if you are Crime, a shrouded web of thrilling trespassing and horrors, then that would make me...Change." His hand beckoned away from the other with the ease of someone who would look at the universe as his personal orchestra. "I'm the invisible, inevitable pressure that alters the way history’s blood flows. Not entirely unlike your lurking silhouette insinuates itself amid daring crime scenes, my shadow looms over rousing chapters that saw this world bathed in flame in order to make room for new excitements in the endless dance. Mind you, I also oversee the majesty of eras starring peace and contentment but one must know his audience and my own deductions guide me to believe you would find those slightly more tedious." Although Jim may be under the impression that Tristan betrayed some bizarre form of bro-code between them at one point? I remember that In one particularly humorous occasion, after Tristan replied to something from the eternally spectacular @ladamedemartel Jim immediately visited his ask-box with urgent indignation. The quid of the message was "You love someone? Why? Why? Why? You should know better about the world. Are you insane? What's your problem?" I always enjoyed the comedy of Tristan's company not batting a disapproving eye at the wars and the plagues but finding the fact that he loves his family extremely disturbing. Want to RP with them: Yes. We could start something entirely new sometime if you prefer. Tristan is not going to call him evasive but he finds the fact that Jim tenaciously insisted on hearing about Jack the Ripper for months only to grow silent as soon as Tristan dictated some generically innocent answers about his personal past as the price to pay rather interesting and amusing.

What is my;

Overall Opinion: While stealing from a blood bank, the master criminal was caught red-handed. 

[kettykika78]

KettyKika78 fic - after the sex - cap 1

notes: With ao3 down, I decided to post here my only -for now- online fic. It's 3 chapters, about 1200 words, nothing explicit, POV First Person, Idiots in Love, Missing Scene, Sherlock in Denial, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Damn Mycroft, Episode: s03e02 The Sign of Three, Second Time, 221B FicletPost-Canon, John Watson Has Feelings, we don't see the sex, we see the aftermath, It can be read as Canon compliant. Angst, happy ending. The beta work was done by the fabulous alto_mumma, and totallysilvergirl was my soul support.

After the Sex. _ by KettyKika78

Chapter 1.

No. It wasn't the sex that changed me. Us. One might think that overcoming the obstacle of intimacy between two people is like turning on a switch. But there are many ways to ignore what happened in retrospect. I can make myself delete things, overwrite, replace the actors of the moments I've lived.

The term Mind Palace can deceive those who have never used mnemonic techniques. For a simple mind, it is easy to imagine vaults in the corridors of a luxurious villa, or a filing cabinet to consult an ethereal library. But for me, these are familiar places, people, sensory stimuli that have the role of driving the simulations of actions. Thanks to data that functions as fuel, my mind is like a racing engine.

My mind has always been my main resource, my pride, my damnation. Since I was a child I have recognized how this was the element of distinction between me and everyone else. Except Mycroft, damn it. No, don't put parents in the equation. Mycroft's mind has always surpassed me, because he has always been able to handle any problem related to the goldfish he was dealing with, and has always enjoyed managing anyone's relationships. He can predict people's behavior and outcomes way better than me, such that his capacity to manipulate is at top level, Demiurg like. Following Mycroft's method of walking the world was not for me, but the basic concept has helped me since I was a child. Caring was not an advantage. And Redbeard's case was a painful reminder for me. Yes, I asked Mycroft to tell me that word whenever I would come near to a sentimental disaster.  I suppose he could use it during the wedding day. Damn him! 

But no, I wouldn't delete that heated intercourse during the stag night. After our dancing lessons, that was the moment I felt his undeniable affection for me on my skin. I cannot delete it. His mouth on my skin, his taste, all blurred and heated, still so intense, heart shattering, something I had never felt before. I will treasure it. 

I denied to him the meaning of that night. 

“Who could be better to do it with than your best friend? I'm here to help you. You can trust me, I would not spill the tea." 

John was somewhat taken aback, because his ever expressing handsome face suddenly went blank. I cannot – I would not – let myself be ruled by sentiments. 

This is who I am. Sherlock Holmes: High Functioning Sociopath. I made myself! Alone is what I am. Readbeard’s loss teaches me my weakness. I'm too vulnerable, too sensitive when I lose my armour.  

So, it will be.  The case of Watson's wedding will be over soon, I just need to wait until that hideous notion of a sex holiday will finish so we will be finally ok. The two of us against the rest of the world, like before. Well, except the flatmates bit. 

I want to have a happy blogger by my side, so I choose to believe her. 

“Yes, it will be fine. 

Sure John. 

Fine.” End Chapter 1.

[ace-sher-bi-john]

All of these are going to be pretty Sherlock and Rosie centric. Here we go:

Sherlock calls Rosie, my dear Watson, Watson, or sometimes he calls her his little Bee. I love the idea that Sherlock can never just call her by her actual name and just sticks with loving nicknames. Unless they're in a serious situation, then he brings out the Rosie or even Rosamund.

Uncle Mycroft only ever refers to her as Rosamund or child like he did in Indefinite Lines.

John sticks with Rosie

Rosie calls Sherlock, Sherlock. As others have said in the past, it makes no sense for her to randomly wake up calling him dad, as she would have been taught her entire life that he's Sherlock. Rosie would tell everyone that she has a daddy and a Sherlock.

Even when she's older and understands that both of them are in fact her dads, she never wants to call him dad. Not because she doesn't see him as her dad, but because it feels more special. Almost everyone has a dad, but she's the only person in the world who gets to have a Sherlock as well.

Sherlock becomes an expert on all things babies when Mary's pregnant. As described this post Sherlock is one of Rosie's main caregivers, along with Mary, John and Molly. Rosie is just so comfortable with him at a stage in her development when she should be developing a fear of strangers. Sherlock must have watched her a lot then for him to be one of her primary caregivers.

Sherlock researched everything from milestones to tummy time to the exact temperature the nursery should be kept at, everything.

He made sure that 221b was babyproofed whenever he was supposed to be watching her. Even if he was on a case, he would find himself distracted and preoccupied by the baby. He made sure to buy extra nappies so that he would never run out, Mycroft hated him for this (Sherlock never accepts money for his cases, so Mycroft allows him to use his money).

He unintentionally annoys John and Mary with his expertise. He corrects them on facts they get wrong about infant care. Even if his constant corrections and infodumps annoy them, they really don't mind that much. They are thrilled that Sherlock loves Rosie so much and that he cares enough to do extensive research that most parents wouldn't think of doing.

Little baby Watson is his whole world outside of crime solving. When Mary dies and John doesn't want to see him anymore, it breaks his heart that he may never see Rosie again.

Sherlock lulls baby Watson to sleep with his violin playing. Sometimes he lulls John to sleep too. Oopsie!

Sherlock unironically says oopsie all the time while helping raise Rosie. The Operation scene was one of my favorite parts of TEH.

Rosie has curly hair, like Mary did in season 4. John is so glad that he has a resident expert on curly hair. Sherlock ends up being the one to do her hair when she's little, and the one who teaches her to do it herself when she's older.

Rosie is Autistic just like Sherlock and John feels a little outnumbered, being the only Allistic in the household.

Jokingly of course. He's really supportive of them both.

During the pandemic, Sherlock has to take a break from being a consulting detective. Not being an official member of the team at Scotland Yard means it would be really dangerous to bring him in to help and clients he would get from the website are rightfully to scared to go to him.

John has to work even more hours than he used to at the surgery and Sherlock spends most of his days bored out of his mind. The only feature of interest to be found is his five year old daughter, who is also bored out of her mind.

In order to get them both out of their boredom, Sherlock decides to teach her. He buys her her own violin and teaches her to play the violin. He teaches her to dance (usually to Disney music, which starts to grow on him after the first hundred times they listen to For The First Time In Forever). He teaches her the science of deduction, how to observe like he does. Sherlock even teaches her to build her own Mind Palace.

Eventually, Sherlock decides why stop there? Why not teach her things she will learn in primary school so she can have a head start?

So he teaches her kindergarten level maths, he helps her improve her reading skills, he teaches her to write. In no time at all, she is way above the preschool level she would be at if she were still going to daycare (they pulled her out of daycare because they thought it would be safest to keep her home).

Months later, when she starts primary school, she is slightly ahead of her peers because of all of the things that Sherlock taught her out of pure boredom.

Contrary to most people's headcanons, I think that Sherlock would definitely not want Rosie to go anywhere near a crime scene. Yes, if it was absolutely necessary, if it were his only option, and if the crime scene is a "code green", then he'll bring her along. But he made a vow to protect her and he's not going to let two Watsons die under his watch. He also loves her more than almost anything else in the world, the other being John. Her loss would break his heart.

But like the first scene in Indefinite Lines, if a client were to show up at the flat and Sherlock was in the room with her, he would allow Rosie to practice her detective skills on clients.

If you haven't read Indefinite Lines and you're comfortable with Explicit fics, you should read it. It's awesome!

The weekend before Rosie starts primary school, Sherlock finds himself crying as he looks through her old baby things, because his little girl is growing up so fast. He's a sentimental mess for his family.

Sherlock gives up his dangerous/self-destructive vices when John and Rosie move into his flat. He makes sure the flat is completely drug free and goes to great lengths to ensure that he is able to give up for good. It's definitely not going to be easy, but it's worth it for Rosie. He doesn't even smoke regular cigarettes, opting once more for nicotine patches.

He buys a mini fridge for his bedroom to keep body parts in. He keeps his gun in another room so that he's never tempted to use it on the wall. He baby-proofs everything. He makes sure to teach Rosie how to be safe around his experiments and sometimes just doesn't do them when she's in the room. He puts them away when he's finished with them.

Rosie and Sherlock gang up against John sometimes. For example, Rosie has been begging for them to get her a dog and when John said no, Sherlock started begging right with her. They basically teamed up and annoyed John into allowing her to get a dog.

I can't come up with a good dog name at the moment that isn't Archie (listen to Sherlock & Co. if you haven't). But a hilarious idea would be Bluebell. It's so not a dog name, but can you imagine the absolute heart attack our favorite duo would have if Rosie suggested "Let's name him Bluebell!"

Yeah, John ended up being the one in charge of Bluebell more often than not, due to Rosie being four years old and Sherlock being extremely forgetful. But he loves Bluebell the dog and doesn't mind.

One of the only real arguments against parentlock that I agree with is that 221b is not a safe place to raise a child. Like, at all. Even with the baby proofing and Sherlock getting rid of all his dangerous habits, it's not safe. It's never going to be safe so long as it's Sherlock and John who are raising her.

Due to John's association with Sherlock, the only way Rosie would ever be safe would be is if he were to move to another country, change both of their names and wear sunglasses all the time in case of the off chance that someone recognizes him as John Watson. Both of the boys have made too many enemies for Rosie to be safe any place in the world.

I think that 221b is about as safe as any other place, so why not raise her there? She would be in danger either way.

As for Sherlock and John having a dangerous career which means they aren't guaranteed to come home each day, the only thing which makes their career different from parents who work in the police force or parents in the military is that Sherlock conducts most of his business in his own home. If a situation were to go south, it would not only put him and John in danger, but Rosie as well.

I feel like Uncle Mycroft would place an even higher security detail on 221b and Lestrade would be on speed dial in case something happened.

In the case of any dangerous happenings at 221b, I think John with his military training would be able to put it to good use in order to ensure that no one gets to Rosie. Sherlock is a skilled boxer and sword fighter, so he would also stand a chance against any bad guy who even thought for a second that they could go anywhere near her. Any bad guys who try to go near her would be skillfully taken down by her papa bears without a single thought.

Rosie would definitely be taught self defense strategies by both her daddies too. She could definitely hold her own in a fight, but she should also never have to.

I also think that in the case that a case is simply too dangerous, Sherlock would send John home. Rosie needs one parent alive in the event that something happens, it might as well be John.

Sherlock would try his best to pick cases that are unlikely to be too dangerous, but it's impossible to predict the way a case will turn out until it's too late. He would never go out of his way to pick a case that is likely to put himself or his family in danger, but it's impossible for him to tell how safe a case is at first glance.

I think they would just take their chances.

Maybe they would install a bedroom door for Rosie which is impossible to break down and locks from the inside? A metal door which would hurt the bad guy if they were to attempt to break it down. Rosie would be safe as long as she's in her room.

I guess problem solved!

Rosie grows up to be a forensic artist, combining her passion for crime solving and her passion for art. She works for Scotland Yard, which means that since she's a skilled amateur detective, on slow days she may get called in to help investigate.

When she was little she wanted to be a consulting detective just like Sherlock. Sherlock was and still is her hero, even though he tells her over and over that heroes do not exist and if they did he wouldn't be one of them. He is her hero.

In the spirit of her parents teaching her things they're experts on, John teaches her lots of medical stuff as well. Everything from basic first aid, to more advanced medical care you can provide at home, to of course, how to break every bone in someone's body while naming them.

He's also the one in charge of most of her self-defense training, teaching her things he learned in the military that a civilian could legally do in the case of an attack. He is careful to remind her that she should only use these moves in an emergency. When someone is really in danger.

Despite his usual lack of tact, Sherlock proves to be better at handling teenager problems than John.

When Rosie gets her period, Sherlock is able to deduce the exact kind of menstrual product she prefers and gets it for her each time. John tries his best, but he doesn't know the difference between brands and gets the wrong one each time he's sent.

When Rosie brings partners over, John is always completely oblivious to who they are, while Sherlock deduces that they're dating Rosie immediately when they enter the room. He can in fact tell if someone is a platonic friend or a romantic partner, and rarely gets it wrong. If he deduces that someone is Rosie's romantic partner, he gives them the threatening dad talk when she's out of the room.

It is said to be a good sign that someone is a keeper, if they can survive Sherlock's dad talk. Teens fear him even more than her Captain John Watson war hero father. It's very effective in weeding out the ones who are just simply not worth it.

Sherlock can be surprisingly patient and caring, but only when it comes to Rosie. When she's experiencing difficult emotions and needs to talk about them, Sherlock is all ears. He read somewhere on the internet during his early days with Rosie that it's important to give children a choice, "Do you want advice, or do you just want me to listen?" and Rosie picks listen about 99% of the time. So Sherlock listens. He tries his best to bite his tongue whenever he has something to say, it doesn't always work. But Rosie knows he tries and it means the world to her.

Of course if she does need someone to talk to about her emotions who will give her good advice, she goes to John. While they are both good listeners, John is better at both the listening and the advice.

In order to not make the same mistakes that their parents made, Sherlock and John both turn to the internet for advice. They try to use some elements of gentle parenting when parenting Rosie.

Sherlock basically memorizes the scripts of gentle parenting posts he reads on Pinterest in order to not be too much like himself when interacting with Rosie. He really doesn't want to get this wrong.

John grew up with emotionally abusive parents and he knows that if he doesn't do something, he'll end up repeating their behavior with Rosie. He also takes to memorizing what Pinterest has to say on dealing with various situations.

(I'm obsessed with parenting Pinterest and I'm only 19. I think there's something amusing about John and Sherlock being "Pinterest Dads")

John didn't even want children before he had Rosie. While it's perfectly valid to regret having children (as long as you try your best and make sure that they know they are loved), John doesn't regret having Rosie for a second.

As much as he was terrified of having a child, from the second he found out about Mary's pregnancy, he was filled was so much love for the baby, that he was willing to do anything to give her a good life.

Sherlock loves babies and had always wanted children of his own. But being aroace (well greyroace, because he does fall in love with John), mentally unhealthy, having a dangerous career, and being all around completely unsuited for potential fatherhood, he never thought it would be possible.

But as indifferent as he at first appeared to being named Rosie's godfather, it is his greatest privilege to be able to help look after her.

As an infant, Rosie had this onesie I found at Walmart (it only came in preemie size, so I couldn't add it to my hope chest :( but it's perfect for Rosie!)

Jawn onesie! It's perfect is it not?

I know we tend to go for bees when it comes to Rosie's wardrobe and I am obsessed with that too. But come on. She needs at least one hedgehog and one otter themed outfit, stuffed animal, something, okay?

Here is a link if anyone wants to buy this onesie :)

(to clarify, it only came in preemie size at the Walmart I was at, it does in fact come in other sizes online. I just don't need an infant onesie badly enough to justify ordering one online.

I simply buy them when I see them in the store and add them to my hope chest to ensure that my future children will have what they need in the event of a financial emergency)

That kinda got away from me! I saw this post a month ago when you first posted it and couldn't come up with anything.

Sorry for dumping all of these headcanons on you! But it was certainly fun to come up with all of them!

Sherlock post season 4!

Enough of serious discussion, I want the sweetest and most comforting headcanons of yours post s4. What do you think Sherlock, John and Rosie is doing? Pranking Mrs Hudson? Making fun of Mycroft? Molly taking care of Rosie while the boys are out with lestrade? Rosie cuddling to Sherlock to sleep every night instead of his father? Come on feel me in.

[simplyclockwork]

I wrote a thing

Kept thinking about John’s comment that Sherlock taught him how to dance the waltz for the wedding, and had to write this little fic.

-----------

Toe to Toe

Sherlock had always enjoyed dancing. In fact, he loved it.

So, when John exclaimed—with absolute panic in his face—that he had no idea what to do about his and Mary’s first dance, Sherlock found himself struck by an idea.

It did, however, take a bit of convincing for John to play along.

The first time he broached the topic— “John, why don’t I teach you to dance?” — the casual suggestion was met with head shakes, frantically waved hands, and a quickly sputtered. “No! No. No, thanks.”

Sherlock pouted, but was not deterred. If anything, his resolve firmed, and he was determined that John say yes to him.

He told himself this was so very important to him simply because John was his friend, and as the best man, it was his duty to see to it that John did not trample on Mary’s feet during their first dance and make a complete idiot of himself.

He began by asking John if he knew any dances.

“The tango?” He asked one day, casually. John was sitting in the living room and Sherlock was in the kitchen, bent over his latest experiment.

“What?” John snapped, confusion edging his voice. Sherlock cleared his throat; readjusted a beaker and elaborated.

“Do you know how to tango, John?”

An annoyed groan from the living room was his only reply. Sherlock shrugged and re-evaluated his approach.

See the full ficlet under the see more or read it on Ao3 here

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Three days later, as John stared helplessly at 5 shades of very similar purple, Mary seated beside him and explaining the difference—a difference John obviously didn’t see, going by the pained look on his face—Sherlock flicked his fingers, trying to get his attention. When John looked up, Sherlock mouthed:

“Fox-trot?”

John frowned, not understanding, and Sherlock slowly and deliberately mouthed the word silently across the table.

John’s frown deepened to a scowl and he tilted his head in a “so help me, god” expression that Sherlock knew meant he should stop talking. So he did, instead pointing at the lavender swatch.

“This one.” He insisted, and Mary nodded, pleased. John just sighed and covered his face with his hands.

“You’ll both be the death of me.” He declared.

The next time Sherlock tried to convince John, he knocked on the bathroom door, behind which John snarled at him.

“Quickstep?”

“Go away!” Came the angry reply, and Sherlock quickly moved off down the hall.

During a case, as Sherlock leaned over the stiff body of a young man, laying on his side with a ligature around his neck, John crouched beside him, Sherlock whispered:

“Cha-cha?”

John looked up, brows knitting together. “What?” He hissed. Behind them, Lestrade turned his head.

“Do you at least know how to do the cha-cha?” Sherlock pressed. Sitting up, John stared at him.

“You’re asking that—now?” He demanded, voice irritated. Sherlock shrugged.

“It seemed as good a time to ask as any.” He replied.  

John threw up his hands, getting to his feet. “Bloody hell, Sherlock—let it go.” He’d stalked away, and Lestrade quirked a brow at Sherlock, who shook his head and rolled his eyes at John’s stubbornness.

In a second-to-last ditch effort, Sherlock cornered John when he came by to work on a case. When the other man walked out of the kitchen with a mug of tea, Sherlock moved right into his personal space; strode forward until John’s back hit the wall. Clutching the mug like a shield, he stared up at the detective, wariness in his eyes.

“Sherlock, what—” He fell silent when Sherlock planted a hand on the wall beside his head with a whack. John looked at him nervously as Sherlock leaned down, their faces very close together.

“John.” Sherlock began, grey-green eyes boring into blue. “I need you to tell me something. It’s very important, so I need you to be completely honest.” His voice was low and fervent; intense. “Do you understand?”

“Sherlock?” John questioned, clearly apprehensive. At Sherlock’s heavy stare, he quickly nodded. “Yes, okay. I understand.” He frowned, concern crossing his face. “Wait—is everything okay? Is there something wrong?” His hand rose, hesitating just before Sherlock’s shoulder. The detective rolled his eyes and batted the hand away.

“Yes, John, I’m fine. This is very important, so make sure you answer honestly.” In his fervor, he drifted closer, until their faces were hardly an inch apart. John swallowed, an audible click in his throat. His eyes shifted; settled on Sherlock’s mouth. His tongue flicked out, running along his own bottom lip.

“Yes, okay Sherlock. What is it?”

Sherlock ducked his head; sucked in a deep breath and seeming to gather his resolve. When he raised his head again, his eyes bored into John’s, and the doctor felt his heart racing. He found himself staring at Sherlock’s lips again, so close to his own with the detective’s breath hot on his face and couldn’t quite make himself look away.

“John. I need to know.” Sherlock’s voice was low and forceful, and John shivered at the severity of his tone.

“Yes?” John prompted, mouth dry and heart erratic in his chest.

Sherlock took another deep breath; closed his eyes and leaned his head back.

“Do you at least know how to samba?” The words shot out in a rush, and John froze, shock rippling through him.

“Wh—what?” He demanded, the words emerging as an incredulous yelp. Sherlock stepped away, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth as John’s head reared forward in agitation. “That’s what you wanted to ask me?” He waved an arm, spilling tea from the mug clutched in one hand, evidently forgotten and cold. “With the wall and the personal space invasion, and that voice?” His face was red, eyes wide and blazing. “If I could do the samba?”

Sherlock looked at him with consternation, brows drawn down in oblivious confusion.

“Ye-es?” He said slowly, drawing the word out. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “Wait—what did you think I was going to ask?”

John turned away, sputtering, his face deeply red. “Nothing, Sherlock.” He snapped. “Absolutely nothing.”

Sherlock’s hand shot out; grabbed John’s arm and gripped with vice-like strength. “Wait, John—do you?”

John paused, looking up with wide eyes. Expectation and apprehension scrolled over his features and he sucked in a breath, holding it. “Do I what?” He asked, breathless.

Sherlock frowned; moved closer and squinted at John as if he thought he might have a concussion. “Do you know how to samba?”

John slapped a hand across his eyes, pulling in an exasperated breath.

“Sherlock,” he said, slowly and with feeling. “Shut up.” Falling into his chair, he settled into a thunderous silence, refusing to speak any further on the matter. Frustrated, Sherlock returned to staring at case files.

But he wasn’t deterred.

Just under a month until the wedding, he tried again. As John pulled on his coat in preparation to leave, Sherlock stepped forward, dropping a heavy hand on John’s shoulder.

“John.” He said, earnest, and the other man turned to him with narrowed eyes.

“What?” He snapped, and Sherlock sighed, letting his hand drop.

“John, the wedding is in three weeks, and you have not made a single effort to learn to dance— haven’t attended a single class.” He planted hands on his hips and frowned down at the other man. “Are you planning on swaying with Mary on the dance floor as if you were two teenagers at their high school prom?”

John sputtered, denial in his noises, and Sherlock stared at him until he sagged.

“Fine!” He shouted, throwing his hands into the air. “Fine, Sherlock. Bloody hell, fine then. Teach me how to sodding dance, you complete wanker.”

Victorious and smug, Sherlock sprang into action, clearing away papers from the floor and pushing furniture against the walls. John watched, overwhelmed and resigned, but with a strange quiver of excitement in the way he shifted his feet. Finally, queuing up a stately waltz song, Sherlock stepped over and stood in front of him, face expectant.

“Okay, but if we’re going to do this—” John moved to the windows, drawing the curtains with an aggressive jerking motion. Returning to his earlier place, he shrugged off his coat and tossed it onto the sofa. Clearing his throat, he looked anywhere but at the man in front of him. Sherlock moved closer, making John look up again, mouth set in a thin, hard line. As Sherlock gazed down at him, he snapped: “Well—get on with it, then!”

Sherlock snorted. “Come now, John. It takes two.” He held out a hand. When John hesitated, Sherlock sighed, rolling his eyes. “John.”

“Fine.” John snapped, taking Sherlock’s hand and letting himself be pulled close to the other man’s body. “What now?” He demanded, staring resolutely over Sherlock’s shoulder, his face red.

“Put your left hand on my shoulder.” John did so, and Sherlock nodded. “Yes, like that. Good.” He placed his hand high up on John’s side, lightly gripping John’s shoulder blade. Fingers laced together, he raised their right hands. “Now—I’ll lead the first few times, and then, once I feel you’ve got it, you will lead, since you will be doing so when you dance with Mary.”

“First few times?” John sputtered, and Sherlock rolled his eyes again.

“Yes, John. Obviously. You will need to rehearse many times before the wedding, as I doubt you are a secret dance prodigy, and practice is integral to mastering a skill.”

John subsided, but he refused to look Sherlock in the face.

“Okay,” Sherlock continued, once John had stopped protesting. “When I step forward, you step back—yes, good John, very good. Now, step back and parallel your feet—no, John, not that one. The other foot. Yes, like that. Here, let’s try it again.” Sherlock moved them back to the starting position, John frowning at his feet as he tried to repeat the motions Sherlock detailed for him. “Foot back, then step with the other, yes, good. Bring them together. Okay, bend your knee, bring this leg forward—oh, but keep your balance John, you don’t want to fall on Mary.” Sherlock’s hand moved down to grip John’s waist, helping him regain his footing, and John’s face burned.

“This is ridiculous.” John muttered, and Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

“How so, John?”

John looked up, finding pale eyes laser-focused on his face, and quickly looked away. “Nothing.” He replied, narrowing his eyes. The music ended, and Sherlock stepped away to restart the playlist. When he turned back, sweeping into John’s space and sliding his hand up his back, beneath his arm again, John trembled. Sherlock frowned.

“Everything okay, John?”

“Yes. Now shut up and teach me how to dance, dammit.”

Sherlock smiled, but did not reply, simply falling into the motions with the man in his arms. They practiced for several hours, John clumsy and slow; Sherlock sure-footed, graceful, and elegant.

When it came time for the underarm turn and the dip, John balked, steadfast refusal, until Sherlock coaxed him with gentle reminders of dancing in front of everyone for the first time; of how impressed Mary would be.

Grumbling, John subsided, letting Sherlock lead him again. John mixed up his steps in the turn several times, often moving the wrong way and bumping hard into Sherlock’s side. He almost brought them both to the floor when he tripped and stepped on Sherlock’s feet. Face red and set, he had soldiered on, tilting his chin with a determined light in his eyes.

As the weeks passed, John’s movements became surer and more confident. However, when they finally made it to the dip, the end of the dance, John kept leaning too far back, and Sherlock almost dropped him several times.

“John!” He eventually snapped. “If you keep pulling back like that, I will drop you, and it will be your fault, not mine! How am I supposed to teach you if you insist on doing your best impression of a wooden plank!” John had given in at that, face almost permanently flushed and mouth set in a hard line.

As they moved through the steps again, John managing not to cock-up the turn, and Sherlock shifted forward; arm moving up to cradle John’s upper back, he slowly, expertly dipped him. With their faces inches apart, eyes locked, John found breathing suddenly impossible. His mouth went dry and his heart thundered in his ears.

“Sherlock,” he began, voice low and thick. “Sherlock, I—”

The door swung open and Mrs. Hudson stepped into the room, hands flying up in surprise as she took in the scene. “Oh!” She exclaimed, and John went rigid, before he flailed until Sherlock nearly dropped him onto the floor.

“Mrs. Hudson!” John gasped, regaining his balance and stepping quickly away from Sherlock, who only looked bemused. “He’s—we were—Sherlock is just teaching me the waltz!” His eyes widened. “For—for Mary! For my first dance with Mary!”

Mrs. Hudson chuckled, moving in to take a tray of empty teacups from the kitchen table. “Well, I can see that, dear.” She replied, smiling warmly at them both. “How lovely of Sherlock to teach you.”

John’s face burned as she left the flat, closing the door with a firm click behind her. He rounded on Sherlock, who was queuing up a new song. “We have to be more careful!” He snapped, pointing an accusing finger at the detective. Sherlock looked bewildered.

“Careful?” He repeated, tilting his head. His eyes were wide with genuine confusion. “With what? The dip? It’s your fault you almost fell, John. Really, you flailing like that was none of my doing.”

John just shook his head. “Never mind.”

Days before the wedding, John was finally leading, moving Sherlock about the flat with light touches of his hands and practiced steps. He wasn’t exactly graceful, but he danced with the efficiency of a man who more or less knew what he was doing, even if he was rather rigid in the way he shifted his hips. Sherlock allowed himself to be led, following John with sure feet and a relaxed form, hand solidly placed upon John’s shoulder. They had attempted the dip a few times, but with Sherlock’s longer height, it had been rather awkward. This time, the last time, John was determined; insistent.

“You’re sure?” Sherlock asked, looking wary at the thought of being dumped onto the floor, as had happened the first time, when John had leaned too far forward and abruptly released his arms, tipping Sherlock onto the hardwood.

“Yes. I can do it.” John said through gritted teeth. Sherlock had smiled amiably, shrugging to indicate his agreement.

They executed the turn, Sherlock rotating in an elegant circle beneath John’s guiding hands. When they came back together, John stared hard into Sherlock’s face, eyes meeting, and clenched his jaw when Sherlock nodded. Sucking in a breath, he gripped Sherlock’s shoulders; tightened their interlaced hands together, and carefully bent Sherlock back, making sure his arm was locked across Sherlock’s upper body.

Sherlock dipped, John leaning with him on planted feet, and then they were straightened up again, John almost panting with focus and Sherlock looking pleased.

“Good, John—very good.” He offered, and the other man flushed with pleasure.

At the wedding, as he played the waltz he had written for the occasion, Sherlock watched Mary and John move slowly together among the circle of onlookers. John moved with careful steps, and they gazed at one another with the weight of worlds between them.

And later, in times after the wedding, even without John in his arms, Sherlock would turn the waltz, using his vivid memory to imagine John’s hand in his as he moved about the small flat in the parody of partnered dance.

Sherlock had always enjoyed dancing. In fact, he loved it.

[arcwin1]

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Mary Morstan/John Watson Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson Additional Tags: Fix-It, Ballroom Dancing, Sherlock Holmes Teaches John Watson to Dance, Season/Series 03, POV Sherlock Holmes, Developing Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Sherlock Holmes is Bad at Feelings, John Watson is also Bad at Feelings, Idiots in Love Summary:

Series 3 Behind the Scenes! Sherlock teaches John to waltz in preparation for his wedding to Mary, and it has unexpected results!

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Christmas and New Year's Eve 2023 Pt 1: New Bookmarks and WiPs

Happy holidays everyone! Let's get into the holiday spirit with some new Christmas fics I've recently added to my Bookmarks and MFL lists! LOTS of stories, so this list is split up into two lists! PLEASE check out the lists below for past bookmarks and MFLs! If you have a WORK IN PROGRESS that you'd like added to this list, PLEASE add them in the replies/reblogs and I'll add them to subsequent posts of this list!

The second list posting shortly is my MFL list, so if you have a finished fic you'd like me to add to the lists, please add them to the next post!

Thank you so much!! <3 Merry Christmas!!

[PART TWO]

See also:

Christmas Fics (Dec. 2017)

Christmas: Oblivious That One or The Other is In a Relationship

Christmas 2019 Part 1 (All Bookmarks XMas and New Years)

Christmas 2019 Part 2 (Marked for Later)

G / T / K+ Rated Christmas Fics (Dec. 2018) (Updated Dec 2021)

Community Recs: Christmas 2020 (Updated Dec 2021)

Christmas Trees / Decorating

Christmas-Time Love Confessions

New Year’s Fics (Jan 2023)

Christmas 2023 Pt 2: Marked for Later

BOOKMARKS

Santa Knows by Itsallfine (T, 1,719 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas Party, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Fluff, Matchmaking, POV Sherlock, Pining Sherlock) – Sherlock and John both get exactly what they want from the Yard's secret Santa exchange. Pure holiday fluff.

The Way to Start the New Year by glass_rose_paperweight (G, 4,251 w., 1 Ch. || New Year's Eve, Fluff, Pining John) – On New Year's Eve, Sherlock drags John to America for a case, much to John's frustration. However, a mistake in booking looks like it might lead to an even worse New Year's Even than John originally thought ... or, maybe it's just what the boys need.

This Year by DiscordantWords (T, 6,283 w., 2 Ch. || TEH Divergence / No Mary, New Year’s Eve, John’s A Mess, Jealous John, Awkward Conversations, Trapped in a Closet, Estranged After Return, John POV, Semi-Reunion, Angry John, First Kiss, Reconciliation, Clueless Sherlock, Happy Ending) – Last year, Sherlock Holmes showed up at the Landmark with a fake moustache and a bad French accent and threw John's entire life into disarray with two words: "Not dead." This year, there are more surprises in store.

Wonderful, Etcetera. by VictoryCandescence (T, 16,955 w., 3 Ch. || Wonderful Life AU || Alternate Timelines, Brotherhood, Homophobia, Suicidal Ideations, Mentions of Drug Use, Friendship, Different TRF, Sherlock’s Past, Victor Trevor is Past Boyfriend, Depression, Hallucination?, Love Confessions, Christmas, First Kiss) – Sherlock thinks everyone would be better off if he had never existed, including and especially himself. When he finds himself in a world in which his wish has been granted, he begins to think perhaps even he could be wrong – but it takes an unlikely chaperone to make him not only observe, but understand.

Deck the Halls by itsalwaysyou_jw (T, 31,018 w., 24 Ch. || Advent Fic / Multiple One-Shots, Assorted Tags) – One Johnlock ficlet for every day leading up to Christmas. Who is ready for pining, first kisses, established Johnlock, and everything in between? This collection of stand-alone ficlets will have it all. 

Not Broken, Just Bent by Schmiezi (E, 87,585 w., 43 Ch. || Pining, Love Confessions, Rape/Sexual Assault, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Villain!Mary, Suicidal Ideations, Main Character Death, Sherlock First Person POV, Parentlock, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Love Making, Possessiveness, Depression, PTSD, Kidnapping, Virgin Sherlock, Eventual Happy Ending) – "For a second, I allow myself to remember teaching John how to waltz. There is a special room in my mind palace for it. A big one, with a proper parquet dance floor. For a second, I go there. I remember holding him, closer than the World Dance Council asks for, excusing it with the fact that we are training for a wedding, not for a competition. For a second, I feel his hand on mine again, smell his sweat, hear the song we used. For a second, I allow myself to love him deeply. For a second, only a second, that love reflects on my face." Fix-it for S3, starting at the end of TSoT. Evil Mary.

Bakers with Benefits by Raina_at (E, 88,130 w., 14 Ch. || Great British Bake Off AU || Strangers to Lovers, Switchlock, Friends with Benefits, Mentions of Alcoholism / Past Drug Use, Banter, Flirting, Fluff, Light Angst, Semi-Public Sex, Past Sherlock/Victor, Mutual Pining, POV Sherlock, Obsessive Sherlock, John’s Bum) – Sherlock Holmes has a successful YouTube baking channel, but what he really wants is his own bakery. When an old friend sends him a call for the very first Great British Bake Off, he seizes the opportunity to finally win a sponsor for his bakery. Here's the plan: Win Bake Off, get the bakery, don't fall in love with the handsome Army doctor at the neighbouring station. Easy.

The Lost Special: Family Matters (As Do Relationships) by ShirleyCarlton (M, 144,688 w., 40 Ch. || S4 Fix It Fic / Meta Fic, Unreliable Narrator, John’s Mind Bungalow, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Demisexual Sherlock, Holmes Family, John Whump, Gay Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Drug Addiction, Parenting, TFP is a Nightmare, Virgin Sherlock, Slow Burn, Minor Character Death, Switchlock, John’s Past, Sherlock’s Past, Eurus, Love Confessions) –Sherrinford is not really the name of some high security prison. That was just a figment of John’s frantic coma dream. And Eurus is not actually Sherlock’s sister. That’s just something random she said to John before shooting him. Sherlock and John were never actually estranged. That was just their act to cover up what really happened to Mary – or Rosamund Moran, as her real name has turned out to be. Sherlock does have a secret sibling, though, and his name is Sherrinford. After finally eliminating Moran – though in a rather dramatically different way than they had envisioned – and exposing the truth about Eurus, John encourages Sherlock to delve into his past and to find out whether the reasons to keep Sherrinford away from Sherlock were the right ones, and to discover what really happened in 1981. Along the way, Sherlock and John gradually, finally, stop keeping each other at a distance, and eventually become a proper family of their own.

WORKS IN PROGRESS

Christmas with You by hey_there_buddy (NR, 3,258+ w., 11/? Ch. || WiP || Christmas, Marriage Proposal, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Established Relationship, Waltzing, Morning Kisses) – Sherlock wants to propose John and he came up with his own idea.

From the First Time That I Saw You by BookGirlWithLove (E, 6,813+ w., 4/16 Ch. || WiP || Actor John AU || Christmas, Meet Cute) – Sherlock Holmes very rarely paid any attention to popular culture. He didn’t listen to the radio or watch telly. He seldom watched films. Unless that film had a certain actor in it. A certain actor who, while he might not be on everyone’s favourite list, was most certainly on Sherlock’s. In fact, he was the only celebrity to ever give Sherlock pause, which said a lot. That actor was John Watson. Who was currently standing in Sherlock’s sitting room, awkwardly holding two bottles of wine.

Christmas in Honeycutt by helloliriels (T, 25,768+ w., 12/16 Ch. || WIP || Christmas in Connecticut AU / WWII AU || Kidnapping, Spies / Secret Agents, Codes & Ciphers, Past Relationships, Developing Relationship, Fake Marriage, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending) – John's publisher asks if his family could entertain a war hero at their idyllic estate in Somerset for Christmas. Only ... John doesn't have a wife ... or a daughter. Or an estate. He has a bedsit. In London. And some wounds of his own to recover from ... but he can't tell his publisher that or he'll get fired … What's a writer to do? Cracking Codes. Super Spies. Sherlock in Disguise. A wild Christmas romance set in the countryside! Just what the doctor ordered! Part 6 of the Liriels Chaptered Fics series

The Prince of Hearts by prettysailorsoldier (M, 46,206+ w., 12/? Ch. || Modern Royalty AU || WiP || Matchmaker Sherlock, Prince John, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Sexual Tension, Mutual Pining, Christmas, Fluff) – Sherlock Holmes is making big waves in London as the head of a thriving matchmaking firm, his unconventional approach earning him the title 'The Chemist'. To Sherlock, love is in the data, a collection of variables plugged into equations to calculate the perfect match, but, when the royal family of the small country of Galerre hires him to find a spouse for the crown prince, he will find that some matters of the heart are not so easily solved.

Since First I Saw Your Face by Stavia_Scott_Grayson (M, 398,966+ w., 19/22 Ch. || WiP || ACD Canon / 1884 Victorian AU || Friends to Lovers, Pining, UST/URT, POV Sherlock, Christmas, Developing Relationship, Turkish Baths, Victorian Attitudes, Sussex Holiday, Cocaine, Holmes’ Childhood, Cold Cases, References to Canon) – During the Great Hiatus, Holmes, studying in Tibet, reflects on his first meeting with Dr John Watson.

[betweendoctorsanddetectives]

my mind is ringing from the "oh so y'all were QUEERBAITED queerbaited" comment on the gifs of cas and dean dancing together. it's all I hear. it's so loud.