PSA: THIS WRITER DOES NOT USE genAI (generative AI, for example ChatGPT) TO WRITE OR HAVE IT ASSIST HER. PROOF. Also, I use Ellipsus to write, I know that site may look like ChatGPT at first glance.
Requests will open on 1st of May 2027. (The year is not a typo)
UNPUBLISHED REQUESTS: 220
Out of those, 182 have not been started yet, I work on one request at a time.
There are 42 requests in queue right now, which means my current queue runs out on 13th of October 2026!
THE MOST IMPORTANT NAVIGATION LINKS:
RULES
REQUESTING GUIDE/HOW TO REQUEST
FAQ POST
MASTERLIST
FANDOM LIST
PROMPT LISTS
TAGLIST INSTRUCTIONS
EXTRA LINKS THAT MAY BE HELPFUL FOR YOU:
AO3 MASTERLIST
TO-DO LISTS (NOT UP TO DATE WITH NEW REQUESTS, LAST UPDATED ON 9TH OF FEBRUARY 2025, I'M DELETING WRITTEN WORKS FROM HERE WHENEVER I REMEMBER TO BUT NOT ADDING NEW ONES RIGHT NOW)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Maybe a good thing to say this just in case since the next MCU movie comes out tomorrow (Brand New Day) and MCU is part of my fandom list:
MCU will not get a priority line. The main reason is because I'm not up to date with the movies (I last watched No Way Home, and before that Far From Home, skipped pretty much everything between the two). I'll probably at least try to watch Brand New Day once it comes to streaming services/Disney+, but I won't be paying for a ticket when I don't know if I'll understand anything since I haven't followed the movies since the multiverse mess started. The same thing will be the case with Doomsday, I'm not planning to pay for a movie ticket, I may not watch it at all if watching it requires wading through 5 years worth of movies and TV serieses first. It was the initial reason why I fell off the carriage, I thought the movies were entertaining but not something that would make me watch 10 new movies and 7 seasons of different TV serieses every year unless I want to risk being confused because the multiverse thing messed up the cards.
I watched the trailer for Doomsday, and it seems to assume people have watched everything, every movie and Disney+ series, before watching that, and I most certainly will not start wading through it all when 80% of it doesn't interest me in the slightest.
I know I said a while back that I'm putting up priority lines for my most popular fandoms if they get new content, but MCU is an exception since, again, I'm not up to date with it and I don't know most of the new characters. I'm really sorry if someone was expecting me to open a priority line for it but my only priority right now is to get my current wip list done and out.
But!! There's a bunch of MCU fics coming up starting from October (I counted 17 coming between October to March, the newest one came in February 2024). I hope that will make up for any possible disappointment :)
Hi! Can I request Kaz Brekker + Look What You Made Me Do by Taylor Swift? Thank you!!
Summary: Kaz left you to die, but in Ketterdam, ghosts never stay dead.
LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO
Years ago, Kaz had found you. Another orphan, just like him, who had lost everything, who had turned to crime when Ketterdam offered nothing else. You had bonded, maybe even had a foolish flicker of romance in between the lines — but he had sacrificed you for the sake of getting to Pekka Rollins faster.
He didn’t mean to get you killed, he had thought you’d crawl out like you had before. He had done it so many times that he took it for granted that you’d do it too.
But you didn’t return to him that night.
Not the next night either.
After a week, you were assumed dead.
And Kaz forced himself to forget about you, even when his past self screamed you killed them.
Until years later, he met your eyes again.
It happened at the harbour, the evening he and Inej first held hands, the evening Inej met her parents again.
When she ran to hug her parents, his eyes met yours. And he felt like his breathing stopped.
The eyes were unmistakably yours — but they were blazing with hatred now. You were wearing a green coat with a lion symbol embroidered into it. Dime Lions.
You smirked the moment you saw him staring at the embroidery, and slowly walked closer. "He found me half-dead in the Barrel. Funny what a debt of gratitude does to a person."
He used you. He wanted to say, but stopped before words came out. That thought followed immediately by the uglier one beneath: And why wouldn't he. I used you first.
Kaz tightened his grip on his cane. “Did he send you?”
You scoffed. “He’s gone soft. You scared him by threatening little Alby. No, this is my own mission.”
Kaz stared at you for a moment. Flashes of you years ago crossed his mind — you were nothing like them. The hatred oozed from you, forming a puddle beneath you. He knew exactly what you wanted, he had wanted that same thing for so many years, only to Rollins. “You want to kill me.”
You tilted your head. “Not tonight. I want to make it hurt. I will rip you bare of everything you love — and after that, yes. I will grant you a slow death.”
Kaz narrowed his eyes. “You should know by now that I’m hard to break, or to kill.”
“I like the challenge,” you replied, before taking a step back. “See you soon, Brekker.”
Then, you were gone, disappeared into the crowd almost as skillfully as Inej could. Kaz stared after you for a moment, before he straightened up. He had to focus, already wracking his brain over what you’d do.
He felt dread for the first time since Inej was kidnapped by Van Eck. If you meant what he think you meant, you’d start hunting for his fellow Crows — and if that turned out to be true, he’d have to kill you. The old ghost who had once made him feel something else than endless hatred, but who had since developed a kind of hatred towards him he knew far too well.
But still, he straightened his tie, slowly walking up to Inej’s parents, acting like nothing was wrong. His worries about you would have to wait for this moment.
---
Tags: ask to be added to this character's taglist!
Okay since I hit 40 fics in queue yesterday, I did some math for the publishing schedule of my remaining requests:
The rest of 2021 requests are all due to come out by the end of November 2026. (72 requests)
2022 requests are due to come out between the beginning of December 2026 to the end of January 2027. (60 requests)
2023 requests are due to come out between the beginning of February 2027 to the end of February 2027. (24 requests)
2024 requests are due to come out between the end of February 2027 to the end of March 2027. (38 requests)
2025 requests are due to come out between the beginning of April 2027 to the end of April 2027. (26 requests)
So if you remember the year you sent your request in and still want to keep waiting, here's the general schedule for when you can expect it to come out, if things go perfectly. And even if everything does not go perfectly, everything will with 99% certainty be out by 25th of July 2027. (1% is off because only death will stop me by now)
Also, do note that my wip list list is FAR smaller than it was a year ago, so this time I'm actually optimistic of finally being able to pull it off <3 I've already done a sketch post of requests opening again and scheduled it for 1st of May.
ATTENTION PEOPLE WHO FOLLOW ME FOR ENOLA HOLMES FICS!
I decided to push this for today instead of yesterday since I wasn't able to finish it before falling asleep yesterday, but:
Just a note in case someone didn't know, unfortunately that Sherlock request I published earlier today was my last Enola Holmes priority request, which means that there's no more fics for the characters coming up before summer 2027. And that's assuming I'll get requests for them soon after my requests open on 1st of May 2027.
I'm really sorry if you have followed me only for Enola Holmes fandom and you already know you won't be interested in anything else that's coming during these upcoming months and don't want to stay because of that/don't want to hang around and see what happens after my requests open again, but it is what it is and I did warn people about not being a dedicated EH x reader blog. So if you're unfollowing me now, I'm glad you were here until now and I hope you enjoyed what I wrote for this fandom within this past month! :)
I will continue posting with my normal fics on Monday, 27th of July, and my posting pace will return to normal pace. (Mon-Wed-Fri) On 1st of October, I'm hoping to be able to start posting daily again until requests run out. My queue is packed until 9th of October right now.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Hiii! May I pls request a Sherlock x f!reader in the second movie where the reader gets really injured (maybe passes out) in the last fighting scene with Grail and Sherlock has major angst and fluff please? I love your writing style so much and have really been enjoying your fics!! Thank you so much,I really appreciate your writing. no rush tho ❤️
Summary: When Grail manages to throw you down from the ceiling, Sherlock fears the worst.
Warnings: blood, injury
A/N: Thank you so much <3 (This is the last Enola Holmes priority line request)
ALMOST GONE
When the world tilted sideways and Enola’s scream echoed in your head, you could only register two things at once: Grail's cane making contact with the side of your head and nose, and the sudden absence of floor beneath your feet.
You didn’t even have time to realise what was happening. The hit made you dizzy, your vision and dimming and brightening as you fell, Enola’s fingertips only grazing yours even though she dropped on her knees reaching for your hand the second she realised you had misstepped.
Her scream of your name pierced the air, making Sherlock look up and seeing you falling. The time seemed to slow for him when he shoved past Grail’s goon and tried to hurry to catch you. But of course, the slow motion wasn’t real, and your body slammed against the wooden floor before Sherlock had even jumped off the stage.
“No!” he shouted, running up to you, dropping on the floor on all fours before gathering you up into his arms, your head lolling to lean against his chest. He called out your name a few times, tapping your cheek. “Open your eyes,” he told you. “You—”
He was interrupted by a roar of the goon he had been fighting with moments before, and was thrown away from you. The goon smiled, teeth slightly bloody. “I believe we had a dance to finish.”
—
After it all was over, Sherlock sat on one of the chairs at the theatre. He wanted to pace, wanted to calm his nerves, but the doctor had already barked at him to sit down because he can’t concentrate when he was moving around like that. The cart was on its way, but Tewkesbury had managed to get a family doctor to check on you. You had a pulse, Sherlock had felt it himself, but your unconsciousness was what caused him to worry so much. He had seen prolonged unconsciousness in his career a lot, some would fall asleep for years, and he wouldn’t be able to handle that, not with you.
You were taken to the hospital once the doctor had supported your spine, and Sherlock had his own carriage ride behind the cart.
“The next days show the expansion of the damage,” the doctor told him that night. “Before that, we can’t give an estimate for it. She fell from several metres, which means there may be lasting damage in the brains.”
Sherlock heard it all as an echo in the background, staring at nothing. His mind played the image of the moment you fell over and over again, calculating what he could have done to catch you. Rationally, he knew there was absolutely nothing he could have done, he did not possess paranormal powers that could have made him move faster, but he still kept thinking it. Over and over again, a reason how he could blame himself for not reacting faster.
—
On the fourth morning, Sherlock stirred awake when he felt a hand grasping his. He grunted, opening his eyes slowly to look at his hand — and immediately recognised whose hand it was.
Yours.
He gasped out your name, fully awake in half a second, leaning over your bed. He stared at you for a moment, before letting out a sigh, so full of relief he felt his heart dropping several stones of weight. “You’re awake.”
“Grail?” you whispered, and Sherlock nodded.
“In custody. Along with Moriarty.”
You smiled weakly, before your face scrunched up slightly. “Water.”
Sherlock quickly reached to a glass of water he had kept for himself at the side table, bringing it to your lips. You took a few gulps, before tilting your head back.
“I thought I’d die,” you said with a small, choked laugh.
“I’m sorry,” Sherlock sighed, bowing his head. “I should have been faster.”
You met his eyes with a frown. “Faster with what?”
He took your hand that rested against your stomach, squeezing it. “You’re here because I wasn’t able to catch you. If I had—”
“You couldn’t have done anything,” you interrupted him, coughing slightly. “You can’t be everywhere at once, Sherlock.”
“But—”
“No.”
Sherlock fell silent after that, just staring at your hands clasped together on your stomach. You brought your other hand on top of them, brushing your thumb along his knuckles. “Without you, Grail would still be at large, and Enola would be in prison for murder she didn’t do. All battles come with some kind of loss, and I did not die, I just hit my head.”
Sherlock glanced at the stitches at the side of your head. “You may have permanent brain damage.”
“Well, if I do, I have the most handsome nurse in England, don’t I?” You smirked, before your eyes softened. “And even if I can no longer do detective work with you, I’m still happy I got to do it for as long as I did. If I had never met you, I wouldn’t have met the love of my life, I might be in an unhappy relationship I was forced into as I’d be considered ‘too old’ to be unmarried. I’d rather spend a lifetime not being able to work like I’d want to and be with you than live a day married to someone who doesn’t really love me, but be healthy.”
Sherlock looked at you for a moment longer, thinking about what you said, before he smiled a little and stood up, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I love you.”
You smiled, closing your eyes as you whispered, “I love you too.”
---
Tags: @lovinqbella | ask to be added to this character's taglist!
Hi!! Asking for a sherlock Holmes x reader where sherlock is overworking himself and reader has to try and convince him to step away for a minute so that he can take a break and spend some time with reader? Pls and ty!!
Summary: You always make sure Sherlock will never again overwork himself over the edge.
NO MORE
Sherlock had sat in his office since before sunrise, after sleeping for maybe three or four hours. The case he had been working on had been in his mind for days now — every time he made progress, he ended up driving into a dead end. This criminal he was chasing almost competed with Moriarty, at least he got Sherlock as frustrated as Moriarty had when her identity had still been a mystery. In fact, the only difference was that this one did leave obvious mistakes behind, and one thing Sherlock knew was that the suspect was a male. He knew it from small mistakes a police wouldn’t notice, mistakes of someone who’s skilled, but hadn’t studied Sherlock as much as they would have needed.
Still, it had been almost a week since Sherlock got the case into his hands, and the only identifiable detail he had was that the man he was chasing had been staying at a rather expensive hotel — but according to the front desk, the man had looked identical to every businessman in London. Dark, tall, wearing a suit. No scars, no glasses, nothing out of ordinary the hotel staff paid attention to. The name was likely fake too.
Day by day, Sherlock had dove into the case more. He barely even ate, just slumped in front of his desk with a pile of documents all day.
And today, you decided it was enough.
“Sherlock.”
“In a moment,” he muttered, and you crossed your arms.
“You said that three and a half hours ago.”
“Did I.”
You sighed. “It’s almost midnight. You have been working before sunrise. You need to rest properly.”
“I’ll rest once I solve this.”
You marched up to him, snatching the quill off his hand. “No, you’ll rest now.”
He finally looked up to you. “That is rather rude.”
You huffed. “You’re the one who’s been ignoring me for almost four hours. I don’t think I’m the rude one here.”
“Ten minutes,” Sherlock sighed, reaching for his quill. “I promise I’ll just—”
You shook your head, keeping the quill out of his reach. “Just one, then two, then three, and soon you’ve been here through the night again. We are going to bed, after you have eaten something.”
He stared at his quill, before looking at you again. “I’m close to solving this.”
You put the quill down at the other side of the desk. “That may be true, but you won’t be able to finish it without a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow your brains will work much better, if you just sleep properly, and will get up only when I say so. I will not deal with your stuck muscles in your neck again because you’re working too much.”
“He might get away if I’m not quick enough.”
“And you think that your tired brains running in circles is making him stay still?”
He didn’t answer to that, laying his eyes on the documents in front of him, but you knew he wasn’t really reading them, he was trying to decide whether to listen to you or not.
You walked back to him after looking at him for a minute in silence, laying a hand on his arm. “That man won’t vanish overnight just because you slept, the case will still be going on when you wake up. Just come to bed. Please.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a few deep breaths, before slowly sliding his chair backward, and you smiled at him gratefully.
“Alright. But only because you ask me to,” he said quietly. You nodded, saying nothing as he took your hand and clasped it tight. You knew it was hard for him to do, but you’d make absolutely sure he’d get sleep tonight.
---
Tags: @lovinqbella | ask to be added to this character's taglist!
hey theree, i was wondering if i could request a prompt fic of dialogues A16 and A14 for enola!doctor watson x gender neutral reader, please? thank you!
Summary: When Sherlock assigns you and Watson to go through an abandoned house at the outskirts of Whitechapel, Watson doesn't like everything he's required to do.
Prompts: A14. “Wow, a great idea, but I’d rather die.” + A16. “I’m trash, just not that kind of trash.”
NOT TRASH
Autumn had fallen over London, and with it, foggy mornings. Maybe you were weird but it was rather pleasant most of the time, streets looked beautiful when they were shrouded in the natural white curtain. But this morning was not one of those, when danger could lurk in the fog.
And the worse thing was that this morning, Sherlock sent you to look through the abandoned house at the outskirts of Whitechapel, as he suspected it could be kept as a hiding place for the suspect.
And that house looked downright cursed in the morning fog, you could almost see demons standing in every window. Watson looked beside you, looking at the window up and down, side to side, before shaking his head violently.
"Walking into that house, a great idea," he said, "but I'd rather die."
"Watson."
"I mean it. I would rather die right here, on this actually quite pleasant stretch of cobblestone, than walk into that house."
"It's the only lead we have."
"Then we have no leads," he said, "and I am going home to a nice fire and a book that does not involve me being murdered by the man we are after.”
You ignored him, squeezing the strap of your bag tighter against your shoulder, and forced yourself to walk towards the house, ignore the feeling of being watched by a thousand pairs of eyes.
—
The house was not empty, though you did know to expect that. It was used as a hideout, possibly for more criminals than just the man you were chasing. Maybe this could even be a jackpot, a dozen cases solved at once.
But right now, as you heard a group of men approaching, solving a jackpot had to wait. You had to hide, and even though you really didn’t want to, the trash cart at the back alley behind the house seemed to be your only option. You jumped in, having Watson stare at you in disbelief once you looked back at him.
"Get in!"
"Absolutely not."
"John."
"I have a medical degree," he said, putting his hand in front of his face to dampen the smell, "I did not train for years to end my career face-down in a rubbish cart—"
You reached up and grabbed his coat.
"Some claim I'm trash, not a real doctor," he continued, even as he let you pull him half over the edge, "but I draw the line—I am not—I refuse to be that kind of trash—"
"Get in the van, Watson!"
He grumbled, glancing over his shoulder one last time before very reluctantly letting you help him inside, scrunching his face in disdain once the smell hit him, and you closed the lid.
“This was not what I was talking about when I told you I wanted romantic time alone,” he muttered, and you almost laughed, before stifling a cough.
“If we make it to that dinner tonight, promise me you won’t order fish,” you whispered, glancing accusingly at one of the trash bags that leaked out something slimy. “I don’t think this smell leaves anytime soon.”
He had pulled his coat over his mouth and nose now, just nodding as you listened the steps approaching and passing, laughing.
As soon as the voices faded away to the distance, you both scrambled out, coughing and gasping for air.
“No,” Watson got out after a moment of coughing. “I don’t think I will ever eat fish again.”
“Good,” you replied after a bit of gagging. “Because I don’t think I can handle it.”
He looked at you, eyes red from watering so much. “Another hiding place next time. Please. I’d even rather get caught than go back there.”
You agreed even when you didn’t say it, and turned your eyes back to the house. “Maybe the house is actually empty now? Or at least it has fewer people inside. We just need to find Maurice Wilkins’ room and find the evidence. Sherlock can handle the rest.”
He sighed and nodded, still a little reluctant but still following you, your date later at the evening in his mind — the first time in months you both had time for one. Of course before that, you’d both take a very long shower, and hopefully be able to scrub the smell of foul fish off your skins.
---
Tags: ask to be added to this character's taglist!
I really want to find new fanfic authors to read from/blogs to follow here in Tumblr, but it's near impossible to find absolutely ANYTHING that's NOT a) smut b) AI or c) by authors who are antis. When I search for FF from here in Tumblr, I find 50 authors, 20 write smut only (it reads in their rules that they don't write non-smut requests at all), 10 are AI writing and if I dig long enough, I'll find a "sure, here's that paragraph rewritten to emphasize x emotion:", 5 are partly human, partly AI assisted, the rest write/wrote normally but haven't been posting for years. And in AO3, reader inserts are generally poor quality most of the time, which is probably why they have such a bad reputation there.
Or when I finally find an active one whose writing I find enjoayble, I'm listed in their DNI, sometimes multiple times over. (As I am an adult white cis woman who supports don't like don't read)
can you do one for sherlock where him and reader were working a case (he has consistently refused her involvement or help in any of his cases to keep her safe but she always finds a way to show up) and she gets hurt and he ditches everything about the case even though he had a lead just to protect her and tends to her leaving the case until she is well
Summary: When you get hurt while tailing a criminal, Sherlock drops the case just to protect you.
SYMPTOMS OF A HOLMES
“It’s just a scratch, Sherlock. And it was my own fault, I could have handled it.”
The said man scowled but said nothing, just kept dabbing your forehead with a cloth.
You knew you had been stupid, running into the case how you did. The pavement had met with your forehead faster than you could even yell, and the man Sherlock had been tailing for weeks had gotten away.
Well, he wouldn’t have gotten away if Sherlock hadn’t chosen you over him. If he hadn’t gathered you up into his arms, cupping your face between his hands and taken you back to his home.
It had been about thirty minutes since you got back, and you had barely talked. Sherlock just kept disinfecting the scratch that had decided to insist on bleeding as if it was a much more serious injury. Sherlock seemed to treat it like one for sure.
"You should go after him," you said quietly, grabbing his wrist. "It's not too late. If you leave now—"
"No."
"Sherlock—"
"I said no." He paused, finally pulling the cloth away and meeting your eyes. "I have spent months keeping you from my cases. Insisting you stay behind, insisting it was too dangerous, insisting… insisting a great many things, none of which you wanted to hear, and all of which you ignored the moment my back was turned."
“Because you were being ridiculous—”
“No, because I’ve been afraid. Of you getting hurt, of… this.” He gestured towards your forehead. “Seeing even one scratch on you and knowing it was caused by someone who could have killed you because of a case I’m working on, is enough to want to stop working on it altogether. Which is why I forwarded all my leads to Enola, she’ll take it from here.”
“But that was your biggest case of this year!” you exclaimed. “You have been working on it for months!”
He met your eyes again. “I could work on something for decades and still choose you over it. Your health is more important than any case could ever be.”
You blinked at him as your heart raced. “That’s absurd, you said this man is responsible of half the jewellery shop robberies in London from the past two years.”
“He is,” Sherlock confirmed, sighing. “And Enola will catch him. She’s a Holmes, she can do it just as good as I can — if not better.”
You nodded slowly. “I know she will. But it was your case.”
“Yes.”
“So do you want her to take the credit of the work you did? You basically handed her everything she needs and the only thing she has to do is to track him down and bring him in.”
Finally, a small smile appeared onto his lips. Not a grin, but just a small quirk of his lips. “I unintentionally took credit of saving Tewkesbury, which would have been a case that would have kicked her career off immediately. I tried to correct newspapers but they argued a white lie makes the paper sell better and wouldn’t change it. It’s only proper she would take credit on this case, even when she’s well established by now.”
You looked at him for a moment longer, before finally sighing, sliding your hand down his wrist to hold his hand instead. “You’re a wonderful man, Sherlock Holmes. Kind, brave and loving, even when you’re also infuriating and stubborn most of the time.”
His smile widened a little. “It appears that being a Holmes causes those symptoms.”
You laughed, squeezing his hand a little tighter. “Then I suppose I’m fond of those symptoms.”
---
Tags: @lovinqbella | ask to be added to this character's taglist!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Hi, can I please get a Sherlock x reader fic, Where they were already in a relationship, reader goes missing, and when Sherlock finds them again they turned out to have amnesia and doesn’t remember their relatiosnhip so Sherlock has to win them back? Thank you for the possible fic!
Summary: Months ago, you disappeared without a trace, leaving Sherlock in shambles. Now you're back, but not like Sherlock expected.
A/N: I trimmed your request a bit because this request sounds like it should span over several months = needs a multichapter fic (which I don't write by request) but I hope this still satisfies you! (Also sorry this is late, I hurt my arm on Wednesday and could barely move it before yesterday, which meant that my word count for Thursday was very minimal and I had to skip posting on Thursday completely because I couldn't write enough to be able to post it = Friday's fic (this one) also had to be pushed back. I'm still intending to get all of the remaining fics for Enola Holmes out by Tuesday though, as my arm feels a bit better!)
GUIDING YOU BACK HOME
It had been four months and fourteen days since you disappeared. And within that time, Sherlock Holmes had turned into a husk of himself.
He had tried to find leads about you — whether you were kidnapped, murdered, if you were trapped somewhere. But for the first time in his life he found absolutely nothing. There was nothing he could use, even Enola didn’t find anything. It was like you had just turned into smoke and disappeared, leaving everything but one set of clothes behind.
Almost everyone who knew you and cared enough to notice you had disappeared would tell Sherlock that you wouldn’t want him to throw his whole life and career away. They never said what they thought had happened out loud, but the silence still told him everything he needed to know. They all thought that within a few years, your bones would be found, that you were no longer with the living.
Enola was the only one who kept looking alongside him, refusing to believe you were dead. You wouldn’t go down that easy, she knew it, but the lack of leads bothered her too, and so the investigation stood still from the moment Sherlock discovered you being gone.
And then, one day, you appeared just as abruptly as you had left. Enola had almost broken through his door, telling him that you had been found, you were waiting for him at the hospital, and Sherlock had never buttoned up his coat as fast as on that moment.
When he stepped into the building, he expected you to run to his arms, crying and telling him who had kept you prisoner. Instead, he was met with your face wearing a blank expression, as if you saw someone you felt nothing for. Someone you didn’t recognise.
A doctor was sitting beside you, holding a folder of papers, murmuring something, before Sherlock finally whispered your name. The doctor turned.
“Ah, Mr. Holmes,” he said with a polite smile, standing and extending his hand. “I was hoping you would come.”
“What happened to them?” Sherlock asked, not shaking the doctor’s hand, and he sheepishly pulled it back.
The doctor glanced at you. “I have only talked with them for a few minutes, but it seems like they have psychogenic fugue. I need more time to examine them, but at the moment it seems like they know their name but very little else.”
Sherlock swallowed. “What can be done about it?”
The doctor sighed. “Very gently walking them through things they used to enjoy. Sometimes certain core memories can be triggered by smells, sound or taste, which then slowly can lead to healing.”
So that was exactly what Sherlock did — even though it broke his heart to see the confusion in your eyes whenever he accidentally called you my love, or froze to stare at you with a small smile.
But the doctor was right. Sherlock playing violin triggered a memory, a flicker or recognition in your eyes. As did your favourite pastries, your favourite book, they all slowly walked you towards the person you had been before this happened to you.
After a month and a half, he gradually started telling you memories of how you two had met. How you had slowly fallen in love, how you had saved him once when he was surprised by the man who he had been chasing. He shrouded it with telling about those situations as if it was someone else, but he internally rejoiced whenever he noticed your eyes widening, your brows furrowing, confusion turned into memories of past life you yet didn’t fully understand. Your laugh turned into a familiar one, your mannerisms started to trickle back into you, and Sherlock was able to see more and more you as time went by.
And Sherlock knew that one day rather soon, you’d finally remember enough to believe you loved him once, and hopefully that day you would realise you’re still in love with him. He tried not to be too optimistic about it, but Enola and Watson had told him that they can see it in you, your love for him returning piece by piece.
One day soon, he’d tell you he loved you, and see how you reacted. But deep in his heart, he knew your answer, and he knew that the love between you would guide you back home.
---
Tags: @lovinqbella | ask to be added to this character's taglist!
May I request Tewkesbury x reader as newlyweds morning after their wedding, maybe like morning kisses, swimming, walking together in the streets of Malta or in London like newlywed stuff and travel. Headcanon. (I was so in love with the cabin scene and the ending of enola 3 their wedding and swimming after all that just made my heart melt and I yearn for their married life 🥹)
A/N: A reminder that a headcanon request doesn't need you listing everything you want me to include, you could have just asked me to write newlywed headcanons with Tewky. Actually, this request barely grazes headcanon request and would have had a better fit as a blurb or even a ficlet request. Just saying for the future!
Also this was the last Tewkesbury x reader fic in Enola Holmes priority list, which means that unfortunately there won't be new content for him from me for the next year at least, if we assume he gets a request shortly after I open requests on 1st of May 2027.
BEING NEWLYWEDS WITH TEWKESBURY:
Waking up married to Tewkesbury is a dream come true
He just showers you in affection that morning at the lakeside cottage
He wakes up before you that morning, just to watch you sleep for a few minutes, and remember that you were actually married now
After a moment of watching you, he starts to press kisses along your shoulder from behind until you stir awake
Interlaces his fingers with yours and presses your hands against your stomach as soon as you wake up
He’s not a great cook but he still prepares you breakfast in bed
(Actually it's not half bad)
Keeps calling you "wife" or "husband" or “spouse” throughout the day
And whenever he does, he can’t help but grin every single time
Suggests swimming in the lake before breakfast
(He’s already half out of his nightshirt before you've even agreed)
Splashes you first, then apologizes immediately, then does it again because your laugh is worth it
You end up making out in the water as the rising sun paints the lake yellow
When you come out of the water, he stares at your wedding band glimmering in the morning sun
He just can't stop touching it
He bought it himself but it looks far better on you that he thought it would look
Once you've both dressed, he takes you outside
He just can’t wait to introduce you to everyone as his spouse.
Buys you something small from the town, whatever he sees catches your eye
He just wants to spoil you rotten today
Walks with his arm looped through yours the entire time
He just can’t believe his luck, that someone as amazing as you would ever fall for him
For the rest of the day, he just tries to finds excuses to kiss you again
This man is so in love and he makes sure you know you’re the reason for his happiness.
---
Tags: ask to be added to this character's taglist!
Hellooo is it ok if i ask how do you think is going to take for a request i did in late 2025??? I don't want you feeling presured 😭😭😭
Hi :) First, don't worry, you're not pressuring me by asking! <3
If your request was for Stranger Things, it should already be in my blog. Describe it to me and I'll find it for you.
If your request wasn't for Stranger Things, my newest non-ST/Enola Holmes priority line requests are due around the end of April, if I stay on schedule. Right now my goal is to continue publishing non-Enola Holmes requests on 27th of July, post thrice a week until 1st of October and then try posting every day again until requests run out.
There's a few fics though that seem to be missing though, I noticed it now when I checked my newest requests (they were sent in October, but I have a feeling I had a few more that were sent in November and December when I last checked the end of my queue?? Unless I've hallucinated it or remember wrong and they were Stranger Things requests), but I don't really remember properly what they were about, I think one was for Wednesday Addams, I remember the gif I had chosen for it. I'm saying this because I have noticed Tumblr occasionally has a habit of eating requests if the user deletes their account or changes their username if I haven't gotten to it yet, and your writing style doesn't match with any of the newest requests I have right now.
About the ones that are at the end of the queue, two were sent off-anon (Morpheus) and one was sent on anon (Pugsley Addams). Do you recognise any of them by that description? If you don't, describe your request to me and I'll check if I have it.
(I just woke up so my English doesn't work yet, sorry for the awkwardness in phrasing)
The fic that's due today (newlywed HC's for Tewky) may be late, idk when I can get them out. A long story but they're not finished, I planned to finish them yesterday but I hurt my left arm yesterday, moving it hurts quite a bit and writing with one hand is extremely slow.
In 20 minutes I have to head out and I won't be able to be back at my PC before evening, so I don't think I can finish them today... and depending on when my arm heals, I likely have to pause all my writing/take it easy, which is not fast enough for the writing pace I should have. I'm really sorry :(
helloo! can i request a tewkesbury (enola holmes 3) x gender neutral reader prompt fic with C37. “Please, make it stop…”, please? thank you!!
Summary: Tewkesbury finds you badly hurt and in brutal pain.
Prompt: C37. “Please, make it stop…”
Warnings: heavy angst, injury, blood, death, no happy ending
I DO
The voices were muffled in Tewkesbury’s ears as he sat on the steps of your house, staring at the doctor and two nurses around you. I can’t stop the bleeding, someone exclaimed. Bring me more bandages!
Tewkesbury looked at his own hands, dyed red, the blood drying into his hands and making them sticky. His thoughts screamed in agony, wanting to beg the doctors to save you, but he knew what such injuries led to. His mind was going overdrive while his body was silent, barely reacting to anything happening what was going on in front of him.
His mind just kept playing the memory back, over and over and over again.
He had found you from that alleyway, leaning against the wall, whimpering, calling for help. His heart had lurched even before seeing you, but he still hadn’t expected it to be as bad as it was. The blood was pooling in front of you, your shirt soaked with it. He immediately knew who was the culprit, Enola had been on her trail for months. Henna Martins, a corrupted lawyer.
“Please, make it stop…” you had whimpered, clutching your bleeding abdomen.
“I know it hurts, just hold on a little longer,” he had pleaded. “We’ll find Martins, and you’ll get to show her you survived.”
“I’m dying,” you had whispered. “Tewky, I’m going to die.”
“You’re not,” he had argued, shaking his head. “I won’t let you, you don’t get to leave me like this.”
Your tears had fallen down your cheeks at that, your breathing growing shallow. “I found the ring from your coat pocket, and—”
“We’ll talk about that later,” he cut you off, but you weakly reached out towards him.
“Listen to me,” you whispered, your eyes drooping closed, blood trickling down from the corner of your mouth. “I… I do.”
He took in a shaky breath, cupping your cheek. “We’ll get to say that at the altar, just hold on.”
But you had already slipped under, your head lolling to the side.
“Move!” someone from behind him said, before shoving him aside, and only then did Tewkesbury notice the doctor’s cart having arrived. Tewkesbury watched as you were laid down on the ground, but his heart already knew the truth.
The sheet was pulled over your face as Tewkesbury watched, before the stretcher was lifted up, and loaded at the wagon. One of the nurses approached him. “My condolences about your loss. Do they have any family we could inform?”
Tewkesbury looked up, tears glimmering in his eyes, his hand going to his pocket without even thinking. “I will inform them myself. Thank you.”
The nurse nodded, bowing her head down. “You can ask them to come to the morgue if they want to see the deceased.”
Tewkesbury nodded again, pulling out the little box from his pocket, opening it and staring at the diamond ring for a long moment. He imagined how you would have looked wearing it, how incredible you’d have looked on your wedding — how happy you would be living the rest of your lives together.
But it all was gone now, only leaving pieces of his broken heart behind the happiness he could have had, if this hadn’t happened.
“I do,” he whispered, closing his fist around the ring.
---
Tags: ask to be added to this character's taglist!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
hi! i hope you are doing well, can i please request a prompt fic for Tewkesbury (Enola Holmes) with E15 (gender neutral reader, if you can :)) Thank you!
Summary: Tewkesbury attempts to make you laugh once he learns you haven't had the best day.
Prompt: E15. Making silly faces
CHEERING UP
You hadn’t really had the best day, if you were being honest. It was hard to turn a day where near nobody agreed to listen to your opinions just because you were so young, downplayed your opinions or even stole your suggestions, a good one.
Tewkesbury found you by the garden, just staring at the flowers peeking under the soil, finally greeting the spring sun. Nature waking up usually made you feel better, but right now he couldn’t see your smile anywhere.
“Hey,” he muttered, laying a hand on your shoulder.
You flinched slightly, turning to look at him. “Oh— Tewky. Hi.”
He sat beside you. “Bad day?”
You hummed, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “They still don’t respect my opinions.”
“Do you want me to—”
“No,” you cut him off. “It’d be mortifying, the noble boyfriend of a loser comes to save me when everything doesn’t go the way I want. At least that’s how it would show to the outside, they’d never let me be after that.”
He sighed. “I think you’re right about that.”
You sat in silence for a moment, just staring at the flowers, listening to faint chirping of birds in the nearby tree.
“Hey, look at me,” he suddenly said, and you turned your head slowly. He was smirking, before his face contorted into an expression you didn’t know was humanly possible. His eyes crossed, he puffed his cheeks, stuck his tongue out, and opened his eyes wider with his fingers. It took you so off guard that you immediately burst out laughing.
“What are you doing,” you choked out after laughing for a moment, and he let go of his expression.
“What does it look like? Show me your best.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, but gave in, crunching up your face to the best of your ability. He laughed, touching your nose with his finger, making you open your eyes again. He smiled, seeing the sparkle in your eyes again.
“I think laughter is the best medicine for all worry,” he muttered.
“That sounds corny,” you huffed. “But I guess it’s true.”
---
Tags: ask to be added to this character's taglist!
Hey Jenni, can I get your opinion on something real quick? I'm this new x reader writer who got super inspired to start because of you and a couple other people I've been following on here since I joined Tumblr back at the start of the pandemic. I made my blog like three months ago and I write for 9 different fandoms, but five of them are the really big ones where everyone else is getting hundreds of notes on their stuff, especially for those fan favorite characters. Even when I post about the guy that everyone's obsessed with, I still only get like 10-20 notes and they're all just likes. No comments ever, no reblogs, and people send requests but then I never hear anything back from them after I post it, not even a like most of the time. I try to get the requests done pretty fast, like within a week, so it's not like I'm taking forever. I noticed your notes are kinda low too compared to other writers in the same character tags, at least for this year's fics. So how do you stay motivated? I'm honestly losing it pretty fast over here. I even asked my 8 followers what would make them interact more, and the only idea I got was to start writing smut... but I don't really wanna go there. Got any other tips for what I could try?
Hii, oh my gosh glad to hear you've been inspired to start writing reader insert fics and that I've been influencing it <3
I understand it's pretty discouraging when people don't interact :( I'm not sure what exactly could be the problem in your blog, or if there's no problem and you just don't get readers for some reason, but you should try to ask for shoutouts from other authors? I know for a fact that 90% of us would be happy to help a fellow writer out. Interact with other authors, put up a fic rec blog, participate in different events or challenges, try to gather a community.
As for my notes being bad, well I don't really look at the note count of my fics anymore, as my time in AO3 made me be proud of my total word count over other stats. Of course comments make me smile and giggle and they brighten my day, but I no longer actively feel disappointed whenever I open Tumblr and see there's no comments, nice asks etc for me. I just enjoy the writing process, interaction is a secondary thing. Of course I do think that if someone posts their work online, it's kinda a "hey I wrote this and want to see what other people think of it" but if you go too deep into that thought, seeing a few likes on that fic after two weeks of it being up can be incredibly discouraging and make you think you suck and you should quit, but unless you write purely for notes (which is a terrible practice if you did), it shouldn't discourage you enough to actually stop writing.
I know this may be annoying to hear, as I used to scowl when someone told me this if I complained about low engagement, but: you should write for yourself, and you should write because you love it. Not because you want dozens of comments and shares, though I do know it would be nice if a fic of yours blew up like some do, but the truth is that very few of us will get 10k notes into a fic. That may strike you one day if your fic manages to tickle multiple people who may reblog your fic around the first 24 hours, even more if some of them are popular writers themselves. Some of my most popular fics took off when a popular writer reblogged it with a "this is amazing!", it sent all of their readers my way.
But yeah, again: my advice is that you should ask for shoutouts, interact with people, reblog fics, give feedback, participate in events and challenges. I'm really surprised if doing all of those won't get you new readers. But also, again, remember that first and foremost you should write for yourself, you can never shine if you don't do it because you love it.
(I'll leave the mic open if someone else wants to offer advice to anon)
