█ ▌ ╳┊ S. HOLMES 🐝

This is about grief.

Grief isn’t like you see it in the movies. Sometimes it is. The initial shock, the crying, the devastation a loss like losing your mother has on your life but in reality I’ve experienced it differently. Grief is barely crying or feeling anything since the initial day your loved one passes, watching everyone upset and wondering why you feel so numb. Grief is walking past their bedroom door, seeing their dressing gown hanging there knowing it will never be picked up again. Grief is qualifying as a nurse without your loved one, and feeling anything but happy because she should have been here. Grief is buying your first car and like a knee jerk reaction pulling your phone out to call her and realise you can’t. Grief is going to the shop with your friend, picking something up and going “oh my mum would like this” and the realisation hitting you like a train. Grief is dreading your 24th birthday because you don’t want to be 24, when you’ve had your mum until 23. I don’t want to be a new age without her.

Grief is seeing everyone go about their lives like normal and feeling angry. Grief is about trying to just get through each day until you realise that’s all you’re doing — just surviving at this point, hanging onto the hope that living will come in time. Grief is laughing with your friend and feeling a pang of guilt that you’re experiencing any form of positive emotion. Grief is watching your dad have to live without the love of his life. It’s watching your siblings wishing you felt as okay as they seem. It’s being the youngest member of the family, but the one with the most responsibility because that’s how you’re built — organising practically everything. It’s being so busy after the death and the funeral, organising bills, taking care of another sick parent with covid all whilst trying to fight on and finish university. Grief is going back to work in a hospital 3 weeks after your mum passes away to take care of other people’s sick relatives.

Grief is feeling sick and having a panic attack any time the house phone rings or No Caller ID comes up on mobile.

Grief affects everyone differently. This is what my grief looks like. It’s been 7 weeks, and I’ve already had comments about how life should be getting back to normal now. Don’t ever let someone tell you how to grieve.

Thanks for reading, I don’t really care if people have or don’t, but getting it out into the world has made my day slightly easier, I didn’t want to vent on social media with family watching.

I hope to be back soon to Sherlock, and to playing John Wick eventually

The past few weeks I moved in to take care of my mum. She unfortunately has passed away, so I’ll be back when I can.

   her grin says she not only knows the quote but knows the level of sarcasm, there’s a hum as she settles back against the pillows watching him. she liked when he went off on tangents of educating, which in this case she did actually already know it - but she wasn’t going to spoil the fun of him telling it to her. “i need to bask in the fact you and oscar wilde inadvertantly called me intelligent. i think i need that on a t-shirt, sherlock holmes called me intelligence one time while wearing nothing but joggers and eating my muffins.” there’s teasing in her gaze — 

   a pause, “oh — “ there might be a blush at the fact it hadn’t occured to her. “i thought it was kinda strange, but either way i should have been invited over if there were puppies. “ she teasingly sticks her tongue out. “and yes next time you walk by i will definitely touch your butt in appreciation to it’s beauty and perfection.” 

  it’s been a productive post sex chat thus far, there’s been porn dicussion, oscar wilde quotes, and now onto — holy hell had he just said girlfriend. bobbi hasn’t been anyones girlfriend since fifth grade when she’d punched a little boy for being mean to her friend and he’d fallen in love with her and called her his girlfriend. that had been a while. there’s a pause as he lists whose there, and whose bringing who.  “yeah – i’ll come if it’s what you want. but are you doing it because you want to? or it’s more socially acceptable? because i’ll go either way, but i just want to know which it is.” she’s doing a rather good job of seeming calm. 

   but then fails because a grin breaks out as she gives a hum, “sherlock holmes eluded to me as both intelligent and his girlfriend all in one day. damn i must have wished really hard or something.” 

        Sherlock blinks at her, blank for a moment, “It’s not inadvertent. You are intelligent.” To the point, expression slightly confused, because to him she IS intelligent. He doesn’t deal with idiots; idiocy is not a trait he puts up with from a friend, never mind a significant other. Being Sherlock Holmes’ friend came with just as many advantages to disadvantages, though which category this one fell into was up to the friend themselves interpretation. He actively encourages his friends to better themselves and their lives... though he doesn’t care what their job role entails he does attempt to inspire them to better their education, or hobbies, or anything to engage the mind. Shinwell, for example, is an ex-con... and Holmes still admires the man’s intelligence, especially with chess. 

      The eating my muffins line makes him choke on said muffin. She doesn’t seem realise what she’s said ( an English slang word ) and he finds a great deal of humour in that, reaching for more tea to clear his throat. “If I ever have a dog, or I find some puppies, you will be the first to hear about it.” 

     SHERLOCK || @beedork​      continued from here !

     * * *

 Immediately she paused, the running of the tap the only sound before she shut it off and turned to fix Sherlock with A Look. She’d noticed the redness and the telltale marks of teeth as she walked into the kitchen, it being displayed so openly by his short sleeves.

 And it was glaring, hence her concern. But now, suddenly, all her concern had filtered away with the water down the sink.

   “If you’re trying to tell me this was a sex thing, I don’t want to know.”

     * * *

                   Sherlock was not shy around her anymore. Not that he ever had been, pertaining to his extracurricular activities, but they were closer than ever before. She wasn’t just his friend - she was his family, and he’d die for her in a heartbeat. Although being loved by Sherlock Holmes came at a price... in this instance it was the fact he loved winding her up, and trying to get a reaction from her. 

                Her concern was warranted as he was in fact injured; the bitemark wasn’t the sole indicator that he’d had a guest staying, he’d hurt his shoulder also which meant he was holding his arm to his chest, the slightest movement causing a grimace. 

   bobbi has propped herself up now, so she can enjoy the attentions and the sustenance. she can’t help the grin as he now poses while in his joggers, “sarcastic? me? why i would never.” absolute bull malarkey, but of course she’s still grinning, so no one would believe her anyway.  but really, the man made anything look good. maybe it was the artist in her that just wanted to document every line of his body.. okay her mind had to get out of the gutter or else she was going to skip the tea and muffins all together.

   ‘ puppies? mm i’ll accept it but honestly – a tv just for puppies? ‘ she’s heard stranger things, so maybe she sort of believes him. she’s sipping the tea and picking at the muffin as he climbs over her. teasing - “ shame my hands were full there was a very cute ass that just went by i could have totally touched it.” another bite of muffin. she’s finishing her mug of tea in silence, the silence never really bothers her. they rest comfortably in it. it doesn’t feel like it’s full of traps, just company.

          ‘okay – shoot. ‘ the mugs finished off, the rest of the muffin wrapped in a napkin and places it on the bedside table. curious as to what has led him to preface the question.  

           “You are a very sarcastic person. Oscar Wilde stated that ‘sarcasm is the lowest form of wit’, though those who use this quote to win an argument seem fond of omitting the final part, ‘sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, but the highest form of intelligence.” Sherlock often trailed off on which ever thought occupied his mind at the time, though when he educated it was never out of arrogance or to show off, not with Bobbi; he found it to be an interesting conversational piece. 

          Her naivety brings a smirk to his lips -- he can’t help it, stifling a laugh. “PORN, Bobbi. For porn.” On the odd occasion he found himself without company ( prior to meeting Bobbi, of course )  or simply not in a sociable mood, that is what the television in his bedroom was used for. “You should promise to do it next time, then.” 

    yes there are more interesting things to be doing - and people to be doing it with.  but it wasn’t her fault he wore her out in the very best way. there’s a snort when he uses her full name, “you know i gave you that name in confidence and a moment of self loathing – don’t overuse it.” she lifts a brow as she tucks the sheet higher around herself, “your ego is adorable really it is – it’s so cute and little and not overinflated what so ever.” amusement and love shine in her gaze as he rises to show off the television.

   “somehow that is impressive. wait what’s it for if you dont watch or play games?” she’s enjoying the view now, settling back in the plush pillows and blanket as she watches him giving a teasing wolf whistle, “wait before you go – how do you make jogging pants look good. no really i need to know.” she’s raising up grinning like the cat whose gotten the cream. if a human could burst with love. she would be bursting now. 

  food in bed after really really – good shenanigans? yeah she could get terribly used to this. used to it enough that every time something good happened, she wasnt petrified that she was going to lose it. because somewhere along the line she had fallen in love with him, and accepted that in whatever capacity - affection was shared between them. she didn’t need him to love her, she never imagined she could truly deserve that - but she knew that at least… she was wanted. and that was - god help her - all she’d ever really wanted in life.

          Sherlock’s room connected to the kitchen, so he wasn’t gone long. When he returns he’s carrying the tea tray with 2 mugs, a jug of milk, a teapot and the muffins Bobbi so kindly baked for him. He places it down on her side of the bed and pours her a cup, handing it to her, before pouring his own. He remains standing, then, one hand tucked into the pocket of his grey joggers, the other holding his tea whilst he regards her, “hmm am I to believe that is sarcasm?” he asks her, although he’s sure he already knows the answer. 

        Holmes downs his first mug of tea, places it down on the side table and stretches his arms over his head, debating if he should answer her question or ignore her. “For watching videos of puppies.” Her comment on his looks makes him smile, again, he can’t help it -- dopamine and serotonin practically rife. He climbs over her to get into bed ( instead of walking around to his side ) and settles back against the pillows once more. He stares at the ceiling quietly for a few moments, seemingly contemplating something. 

In hindsight, self control was disgustingly overrated. In hindsight she should also kiss him more because he was really good at kissing. But what was most luxurious of all, was this. Waking from post — shenanigans — curled into his arms. Every muscle in her body ached for the best reason, but she wasn’t cold anymore. Instead she was nestled against his chest and gave a low hum. “You gotta stop being good at everything it’s getting real hard to pretend you’re not perfect.” Shes teasing, or is she?

Restraint was really only fun when you threw it out the window. So now she stretched out, enjoying the softness. “So have you ever considered a tv in your bedroom because I could totally teach you all kind of moved on Mario kart now, I’m feeling positively inspired.” Her lips pull to a lazy smile, her fingers brushing over his chest - tracing the inked marks of his tattoos. There was comfort in the simple intimacies, and these were things she’d never truly had. And only now did she realize how very thankful she was for them, and for him. “Also did you bring the muffins because I could use some sugar—.”

         With Bobbi on his left, his right hand lifts to rub his eyes with the heel of his hand. He’s tired, but he won’t sleep yet. Not when there’s far more interesting things to be doing... or rather, people. He pulls her closer when she teases him and blows his lips together, amused. “You know as well as I do Roberta that I am not perfect. In some areas, however...” He hides a smirk, looking up at the ceiling, “well. I don’t blame you for thinking so.” 

        Sherlock looks down at her, then, shaking his head, “This Mario Kart is in the TV room. I don’t watch television, or play games. But, I do have one.” For... ahem, other things. He moves her gently and stands, grabbing a pair of his jogging pants and slipping them on. In front of his bed is a set of double doors on the wall, in front of which sits a chest. He pushes this out of the way and opens the doors to reveal a television, “Now you know.” Sherlock was not the type of significant other to sit and watch a movie or television or... anything mundane, really, but he would try if she ever wanted to; mood dependent. 

Percy Jackson AU...

Sherlock would definitely either be son of Athena or, if it was one of the big 3, probably Hades or Zeus idk.

That blasted smile is worth a metric ton in gold, she would carve mountains and build pyramids for them. They were rarely given, she’d noticed that his face seemed almost unaccustomed to them. But she’s seen his expressions, and she loves every one of them. “Darln youd be my favorite and the smartest even if you were in the middle of mensa and Calvin Klein model convention.” She smiles in return, the faintest scrunch of her nose, a sign of absolute contentment, as his hands settle on her waist.

The kisses do break too early, but she’s being well behaved. Minding boundaries — trying to be useful in other regions other than kissing. “It isn’t cheating to study and find alternative routes — that’s just reasonable behavior for someone who enjoys winning.” The laugh is genuine and lights her eyes as he mentions Watson as insufferable, “I wonder where she learned that from. It couldn’t remotely be the person she spends endless time with, he’s just the humblest winner I’ve ever met.”

Pulling away - she can’t help the soft oof as she’s drawn back. His hands on her more than welcome, her breath catches in her lungs and she feels like she can’t find the thoughts to even express the joy. She is wanted. The kiss deepens, one hand curling at the nape of his neck, the other at the small of his back as she arches against him. The fine golden thread of control - snapped. And she is lost to love and to pure physical need.

            Sherlock reserves his positive expressions for those he loves most; Bobbi, Watson, Marcus and the Captain. This does extend to other friends, of course, but those who don’t know him would make the mistake of assuming he is miserable in general. One of Sherlock’s genuine smiles would, to someone else, indicate he was content when really it’s a smile of happiness. Only those closest to him, and have engaged with him often, know how to pick apart his expression to determine how he was feeling. 

                     Like for a starter but:

  I may message you to plot instead, or I may throw out a one line starter, a paragraph one etc... if we already have a thread/plot you can still like this for another one lol. I also may message you to plot and we find it makes more sense if YOU write the starter, we’ll see!

As always I’m a busy little bee so some may be queued, I may write some on Saturday etc. Peace and love broskis