#inbox full

no

also I can't the iPad was set on fire my mysterious forces

he only gets the most peak of shows

2026

On Vacation With Mycroft

Sherlock wandered down the pier. Staring out at the open sea. Wishing ... he could be anywhere but here ...

Why his parents had thought this was a good idea? To send him to the seaside with Mycroft, was beyond him. If anything he needed some quiet time to himself!

School this year was a nightmare. His friends all hated him. He was awkward and lanky and thin and unable to do any of the small talk and flirtation that the Upper Sixth all seemed to think the very point of life! Tiresome. Tedious.

He had though he finally found a way to fit in with Victor! ... but that had turned into the worst decision of his life! After rejecting him, Victor had made sure that everyone knew Sherlock was gay and had come onto him unprovoked. As if Victor hadn't been the one pulling him down dark hallways and snogging the life out of him in the library every chance he could get! Sherlock was sick of it all! Sick of people. Sick of school. Sick of this stupid vacation already!

He sighed. Hating himself for caring. For still thinking about it! For still letting it get under his skin. Why couldn't he control it?

Mycroft's words played over and over and over in his head ...

'Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock.'

'Don't get involved, Sherlock.'

'You're above them.'

But he didn't want to be above them. He wanted to be one of them. Wanted to be touched. Wanted to be held. Wanted to be needed. Wanted to be loved ... As an equal.

... as if that wasn't asking for too much as a teenager! God, he couldn't wait to be an adult and to run away to London! To get lost in the throngs of crowds and find out who he was! He could breathe the freedom in with full lungs there!

Sherlock stepped up onto the railing and threw his arms wide. Breathing in deep, the salty sea air! Hearing a small protest behind him?

He turned ...

To see another young man, short and blonde. Hand held out towards him with concern. As if he ... ? Oh.

"Oh," the other teen echoed his thoughts. Realizing he was not about to jump. The boy looked down, looked away, embarrassed, and rushed to leave the pier. Sherlock realized he was holding something? The paper of a sketchbook rustled as he struggled against the wind.

"Wait!" He called after and jumped down, chasing the boy. Catching up to him easily. The boy had a slight limp? "Sorry, I-" didn't realize ... he wanted to say ... but the boys' eyes were a piercing gunmetal gray-blue ... daring him to even try pity? Anger flashed. Resentment. Disappointment. It pinned him in place.

Sherlock had never known such a constantly held gaze. Reading all of the feelings he had been feeling himself, in this boys eyes?

"I'm Sherlock," he tried, lamely. Knowing it was stupid. This boy didn't want to talk ...

But the face softened. The eyes blinked. Another, "Oh," escaped his lips. A face that was made for smiling. Not frowning. But Sherlock had the impression a smile was harder to earn from this boy, than from his shallow friends at school. The boy was taking him in again, reading him. Curious now.

"It's a girls name," Sherlock teased, hoping to make the boy smile?

It worked.

"It's really not," he countered. Shaking his head. But grinning all the same. "John," he answered a minute later, sticking his hand out for Sherlock to take. Sherlock took it. Grinning himself. Pleased to see the boys' eyes looking at him with something akin to appreciation now?

"Were you drawing something?" He asked, remembering the sketchpad. Nodding towards it.

The boy tightened his grip on the paper and then relaxed ... pulling it out from under his arm to show. "I was ..." he said, flipping to the a page Sherlock expected to show a lighthouse or coastline ... but instead, caught his breath ... "drawing you."

It was only the start of a sketch. But ...

Did he really look like that?

Not awkward. Tall, yes. Thin, yes. But lithe and elegant. He felt ... almost beautiful ... ?

He glanced up to catch John's gaze. Watching him. Embarrassed and turning red, but standing his ground. And Sherlock blinked. Who was this boy?

"Should I go back to the rail? So you can finish it?" he asked, suddenly needing to know what John saw in him? Wanting to buy a few more minutes alone with this enigma, before Mycroft came along to ruin it.

John lit up. The smile full and genuine now! As he agreed, eagerly.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The Day Martha Had Had Enough

John had moved back in to Baker Street, following Mary's death. He was going through the routines. Giving Sherlock the 'Ooh's and 'Aah's he wanted to hear! But John himself was not happy ...

He was lonely.

Perhaps more lonely than before when he had tried to fill the gap with girlfriends ...

For now ... ?

Mrs. Hudson knew ... he would not even do that.

She could see the strain as John forced another smile. Forced a friendship that had already become something else, something more ... than it was being allowed to be! And She had had enough!

If Sherlock couldn't see the forest for the trees ... she was going to paint a blazing sign and light up the forest! He needed to see that he was going to lose everything ... with this much kindling!

how about "a campfire turns into a forest fire"?

i am excited what you would make of it! (and yes it has to be johnlock haha :P)

Would I write you anything else? 😉😏💋

🔥 A Campfire Turns Into

A Forest Fire 🔥

Sherlock is a Research Scientist for the Canadian Forestry Office, studying the effects of a reforestation project following a devastating fire from 20 yrs ago. He meets John Watson, a local firefighter in passing at the local Cafe each morning.

I say meets ...

He sees him, each morning ... he'd like to meet him ... but he knows that people have a 98% chance of not liking him if he does introduce himself. Since he inevitably opens his mouth and ruins it!

... and it doesn't help that 50% of what he deduces, is regularly proven wrong by the lady at the counter!

Unbeknownst to him, John is doing a little keeping tabs of his own. The same girl at the counter feeding him information about the mysterious scientist whenever he flirts with her to find out more!

But when Sherlock doesn't arrive one morning, and an out of town boy starts a campfire burning out of control - it's John who manages to pinpoint Sherlock's last seen location.

Will he be able to get to the dark haired genius, and back to safety without being burned?

At first I should say I really, like really like your writing, I mean your style and all!💕

And then, if you still receive titles, how about "I'll tell you when the sun rises" ?~

I imagined it to be a bit heart breaking, but maybe you could find them some happiness? Johnlock obviously:)

Hi!!! Thank you bunches!! I am, and probably will keep it open for weekends. Slowing on the replies a bit! Only as I have so many!!! 😀😄✌️ glad everyone sends to be enjoying this torture as much as me!! Bahaha!

I'll Tell You When The Sun Rises

A freak lab accident in his teens has left Sherlock blind. Struggling to cope with this limitation to his deductive faculties - when he wanted dearly to be the first and only consulting detective in the world! - he nearly ends his own life.

Mycroft found him.

Mycroft saved him.

Just in time.

To survive the night, Sherlock made him promise to tell him when the sun rises.

It's a reminder he brings often.

Nights he knows Sherlock is feeling low.

Danger nights.

Since then, Mycroft has been a protective brother. Hovering on the fringes of his life. Making sure he is getting by. Wanted or more often than not ... unwanted.

That is until ... Mike Stamford informs Mycroft of the return of John Watson. Exactly the kind of man, Sherlock needed for a roommate. And more importantly ... somebody that he used to know ...

Plans are made. Meetings set.

Made to look like an accident ...

Unbeknownst to either John or Sherlock ...

But when Sherlock finds out he has been set up, he throws John out. Thinking he was in on the planning. The coddling. The deception. Their new relationship built on lies!

It takes a heart-to-heart, brother-to-brother, and a few old college letters, for Sherlock to realize ... here he was wishing to see the sun again, when to John ... Sherlock has always been his whole world!

... Wake up, brother mine ...

I can see the sun rise.

All The Words That Were Left Unsaid (I Love You)

Something Wicked This Way Comes

Rainbow: A Story Of Two Boys

tired of me yet???

... NEVER!!! :D tysm for more fake titles to PLAY WITH!!!

All The Words That Were Left Unsaid (I Love You) 💔

John heard the text alert,

that quiet, indecent, 'Aahhhhh!' of a woman's voice ...

THE woman's voice.

Standing in front of him, still. Smiling.

Like a punch to the gut.

Sherlock had heard him. Heard them! Heard everything ...

All the words that were left unsaid, now spoken. Without a chance to explain what it all could mean ... John felt betrayed. He wasn't ready. He himself, had hardly yet dealt with the reality ...

And now Sherlock knew the woman was alive ... what chance did John have?

This was not the way he had wanted to say 'I Love You'.

This was not the way it should have been.

[A battersea fix-it fic, Johnlock, Friends to Lovers]

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Something Wicked This Way Comes 🎪

Moriarty had taken over the airwaves. Risen from the grave like a nightmarish effigy. How had the worst of Sherlock's dreams found a way into reality?

As his foot stepped off the plane, his mind raced with possibilities. How had the trick been played? How had Moriarty returned? And could London survive the devastation that Moriarty threatened now, to bring?

Sherlock would have to rely on all of his friends to make it through this fire unscathed. Walk through danger and not turn to ashes! For the matches were lit ... and the quivering heart of London was the target. And he found he no longer could trust what he sees ...

[An alternative T6T telling, M Theory, Sometimes it's twins]

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Rainbow: A Story Of Two Boys 🏳️‍🌈

Red - the color of anger, frustration, rage. Blood dripping on his new jeans ...

Orange - the color of warmth, joy, comfort. All fools gold, as hopeless and empty as his dreams ...

Yellow - the color of the summer sun. John's hair. Buttercups.

Green - the color of the grass here beneath their feet ...

Blue - the color of parting every summer.

Purple - the color of bravery, loyalty, and the love that blossomed in between.

Six summers ... six chance meetings ... that tell the story of how two lives can be changed, by the tiniest sliver of hope. And the right to follow where your own hearts may lead!

If you are still accepting asks for your Fake Fic Title Game (CONGRATS ON 100 WORKS!!), can I please request a fic based on this word:

Onism (n.)

Origin: Danish

Definition: The awareness of how little of the world you’ll experience; The frustration of being stuck in just one body that inhabits only one place at a time

Thank you!! :))

... Hi Maya!! Thank you!!! I'll try to do it justice!

ONISM

John Watson is tired of being labelled.

Stuck in a box.

Stuck in a corner.

Left to collect dust. Living the life that everyone else expects of him.

Soldier. Doctor. Brother. Friend. That last one stings ... it's too recent.

With each label, he feels further tied down to the rules and expectations of the world all around him. It is ... what people do? Isn't it ... ?

But when John discovers that he's addicted to the adrenaline rush and risk of danger ... he becomes a vigilante. Racing through alleyways and chasing down criminals late into the night. Maintaining his boring facade during the day ...

But the fear is always there ... What if someone finds out?

Meanwhile Sherlock is a genius with a terrifying and tedious secret. He will never die.

The problem is. People are boring. Predictable. Empty husks, wearing human faces ... who fear death and immortality alike ...

Until he meets John.

Cornered. Outnumbered. Still fighting. Still hoping despite the fact, that he is about to die!

Sherlock doesn't need a second to decide. He gives John a glimpse at every possible life he could choose ... could have chosen ... in that moment ... freeing him from his suffocating existence ...

And waits breathlessly to see ... if John will take his hand?

And join him in this one ... instead.

| Time travel | Alternate Realities | Alternate Meeting AU |