GenX Bi woman, she/her, Autistic, Reads a ridiculous amount of fanfic and everything else, BBC Sherlock, ACD Sherlock Holmes and KCD Hansry. Tag me in all your fic posts!
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Was inspired by @jay-wasreblogging post (just beneath this one I think ?) and doodled these. John is wearing a man's corset I saw on a late 19th century illustration while researching. Sherlock is having a heart attack.
Sherlock Holmes and the Musgrave Crown by FruitViking
Johnlock Love Letters #2412
In 1930s London, criminal-turned-criminology-professor Sherlock is called upon to investigate the disappearance of Sir Reginald Musgrave. The trail leads to Dr John Watson, the one that got away - or rather, the one Holmes left behind.
Finally got this piece all done, a knightly alternate universe where the boys meet at a joust tourney, under the banners of their lords. Hope you like it!
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Post-retirement Shane who gets softer around the edges and a little bit pudgy. And Ilya who adores it and loves to bite at Shane's belly.
Also, Ilya getting pleasantly plump after retirement and turning into a proper bear, and making non-stop bear jokes about himself and his tattoo. While Shane's mind is just the sound of static and a constant loop of "sexy, hairy, muscle man. Big bear man. Husband, sexy, hairy, hot" whenever he looks at Ilya. ❤️
Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight
Never in life had I seen such a sight!
It’s a dream to be wished
That I’d not know I missed
Which has lead to my heart taking flight!
Fluffbruary Extended Version Infinifluff. June 14. (Sherlock fandom) Prompts: grove - arbour - formal + the image below.
Chapter 4: The Former British Government
Summary: For the first time since John arrived, the weather changes. It looks as if a storm is approaching. When Sherlock informs him that this has everything to do with his brother's predestined arrival, John doesn't believe him. Surely, dark clouds and the probable thunderstorm aren't signs of a human appearing at their doorstep?
Vampire powers come at a cost
Like a heart that’s as cold as the frost
Time and time again
You lose family and friends
And how can you love when you’ve lost?
I've witnessed Sherlock do this on a number of occasions, and the fact is, I'm no stranger to the concept myself.
When I’m writing a blog post, when I’m in the kitchen making dinner, when I’m daydreaming about my mad flatmate in the shower, are some examples of me being stuck inside my head. Of course, I don’t have a Mind Palace like he has. I don’t walk down imagined corridors, into libraries, labs, cellars, and what have you like he does when he leaves for his spacious second home.
Unlike him, I’m easily roused out of my torpor. Just a touch to my shoulder, my name softly spoken, or the scent of tea, is enough to pull me back to the present.
I’m not in the habit of losing myself in thoughts for longer periods like Sherlock does. Mostly, only a few minutes have passed before I’m back to full consciousness. Therefore, it’s utterly fascinating to me that my best friend can stay in his Mind Palace for endless hours.
“Have you ever got lost? Been unable to return?”
It’s a ridiculous question, of course, but I’ve always wondered. His answer both worries and astounds me.
“I have. Only once. It was unnerving.”
“Oh, wow. But… um… how – “
“Mycroft.”
Of course, his brother and mentor – the man who has taught him this memory technique in the first place – would come to his aid when he realised that Sherlock had lost himself in his head.
“How? When?”
“I don’t recall how. It was years before we met. I was… high.”
Despite that I’d suspected this, it hurts to hear him admit it. The stinging sensation in my heart - as if I’ve been stabbed with a stiletto - is as real as the toast on my plate.
“I’m glad he was there,” I say quietly.
“Indeed,” he agrees.
***
For each passing week, it happens more frequently. And it doesn’t only apply to when I’m in the flat. Even at grim crime scenes I lose myself in thoughts of Sherlock.
His agility – jumping over fences like an athlete. His large hands – gesturing elegantly. His voice – deep and resonant, speaking to my very core. His lips – lush and breath-taking. His hair – tousled or perfectly coiffed. His coat, his tight trousers, and shirts – making my knees weak.
“Out with it!”
I’m so startled, I nearly topple over. A large hand grabs my elbow gently, and Sherlock’s baritone scolds someone called George for being rude.
“Come on, John. We have a killer to catch!”
And without further ado, I’m running after my mad and gorgeous detective, while my phone buzzes in my jacket pocket.
Later - the killer is behind bars, and Sherlock delights in my adoring praise of his flawless deductions – I get a chance to check my mobile.
Are you ok? You lost yourself in your head again today. Like Sherlock does. What’s going on, John? Out with it!
“What does Gavin want?” Sherlock drawls from his chair.
“Nothing,” I say.
My blush is competing with the flames in the hearth, and I’m one hundred percent sure Sherlock knows I’m lying. He always does.
***
One of the many perks of Sherlock retreating to his Mind Palace, is that I get to observe him undisturbed. I only let my gaze linger when his eyes are shut. Granted, I’ve tried to wave my hand in front of his face when they are open; he doesn’t even blink, so I know it’s safe. Nevertheless, I don’t want to push my luck.
What will he think if he saw me drinking him in like a man finally reaching an oasis in a dry desert? It doesn’t bear thinking about.
At the moment, Sherlock’s eyes are closed, so it’s safe to ogle his lithe frame, his steepled hands, his slightly parted lips. I let my eyes wander and linger wherever they desire. My tongue darts out to lick my chapped lips, and to my horror I realise that I’m drooling slightly. Christ.
When I have swiped the moist away, Sherlock’s eyes are open, meeting mine with an unexpected fondness. I find myself unable to look away. Maybe it’s time to stop this pretence and just dive into the unknown.
“So, this is what Gerald meant,” he murmurs.
“What?”
“His remark, and I quote: ‘Out with it.’”
Shit. He heard that. Obviously. His hearing is –
“John, don’t. Please.”
Please, what? I can’t comprehend what the familiar voice asks.
When something warm registers on my face, I open my eyes to find Sherlock kneeling in front of my chair, his delicate hands cupping my face.
“You need to stop doing that,” he whispers, “it feels like you’re leaving me.”
“I would never do that to you, Sherlock,” I say softly, and lift my own hands to caress his precious head.
“Good.”
We are both properly present when our lips meet for the first time. After all, this isn’t something any of us would want to miss.
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Love at First Pride by topsyturvy_turtely (T)
John just recently discovered he is bi. So this is his first Pride Parade. And then this tall, attractive man catches his eye and he promptly falls in love.
The Riots by CarmillaCarmine (G)
A glimpse into the lives of John and Sherlock living in 1969 NYC the night the Stonewall Riots broke out.
John & Sherlock Go to Pride by KingHippiedude (missreader) (G)
John and Sherlock participate in the London Pride Parade.
Rosie and the pride month by Eva_23 (T)
Little Rosie celebrating the pride month with her Dads!
Dying (In a good way) by Strangehamstergirl (G)
John rolled his eyes and glared at the pink dye he was holding.
*The boys decide to change things up a bit for pride*
Pride (In the Name of Love) by ChrisCalledMeSweetie (G)
Sherlock and John celebrate Pride.
Hi, I read a fic where are Ilya is driving away from Shane and he’s listening to the Arctic Monkeys song “Do I wanna know?” And at least some of the lyrics are included in the story. The other things I think I remember about the story is that it’s after Shane and Scott Hunter fight on the ice and they go to New York to confront Hunter because they think he knows about them. So Scott, Ilya and Shane are in the hotel room talking about it in New York. And then it’s time for Ilya to go home and he wants so badly to spend more time with Shane that he thinks about leaving his car on the street to get towed or whatever. Then he could fly home and spend another hour or two with Shane. I’ve gone through my entire AO3 history. So I’m worried that maybe the fic has been deleted? anyway, I would love to read it again. I’ve been thinking about it for weeks.
I keep pushing this one aside, hoping that one day I will find this fic randomly, but I still can’t find it. However, it is very much possible that I am not looking under the correct tags for this fic. I really want to find this fic, though, because it sounds really cool. I am seriously hoping that it hasn’t been deleted.
If anyone finds this fic, feel free to comment because I also want to read it!
and i do think bood & ilya are so endlessly fascinating. yes i talk abt troy & ilya mainly bc of the foil of it all but can u imagine captaining a team you'd played for ur whole life and which has never once been good and overnight u hear ilya fucking rozanov playboy superstar bostons masshole sweetheart signed at the peak of his career, instantaneously demoting u to AC just by sheer power of existing, and is moving to ottawa in ur neighborhood under ur noses effective immediately
now i don’t know enough about omegaverse to say anything definitively but from what i have seen it certainly looks like it emulates insects much more than wolves.
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Captain John Watson stumbles into an arrangement with Major James Sholto. In a warzone, it can’t mean anything.
There are rules.
John learns them.
He becomes exemplary.
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