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shadyscroller2 · 1 year

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all our years apart (lead us to the one today)

ao3

Posted January 2, 2022

#First Kiss, #Christmas Fluff, #New Years, #New Year's Eve, #Fluff and Angst, #Angst with a Happy Ending, #Pining Sherlock Holmes, #Pining John Watson, #Jealous Sherlock, #Snow, #Awesome Molly Hooper, #Molly Hooper Appreciation, #Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, #Cute Rosamund Mary "Rosie" Watson, #Minor Mary Morstan/John Watson, #Romance

2009

It wasn't that the flat was dingy and small, or that the cot was uncomfortable and hard. Memories of similar living conditions flashed through John's mind, most of it from just months ago, his army uniform cut and pressed, a gun in his hand and gauze in the other. The sound of gunfire echoed in his ears, with John's brain fighting it, attempting to give him reality instead.

John wiped his face hard and looked around at his flat, the sounds fading in his head, slowly being replaced with the deafening silence of the small room before him.

It wasn't the flat. No.

What bit him hard was the loneliness.

John looked over in the corner, where his cane leaned against the wall, waiting to be used. The only sound in the entire flat now was the sound of cheering and excited counting down of the seconds until midnight. The telly was blaring the noise, glaring the light into John's eyes and flooding the room.

After a long moment, John turned it off.

There was no point. John should just get rid of his television - nothing happens in the world anyway.

Nothing happens to him.

Somewhere else, Sherlock was running through a back alley in London, clutching a superficial gunshot wound to his side. He pulled his hand away. It wasn't too damp at all. The bullet the criminal shot must have just grazed him.

Good news for brainwork not to die tonight, then.

Snow had already started falling, white flakes falling from the pitch-black night sky above him. Sherlock glanced up, squinting his eyes into the sprinkling snow.

"Sherlock, are you still there?"

Sherlock looked down, his eyes following where the sound was coming from. His mobile phone blinked with Lestrade's name, the call having started almost an hour ago.

"Brilliant," Sherlock told him. "Everything's gone brilliant, Lestrade, come at once to collect your criminal."

"Sherlock, I know heard a gunshot. What happened? Are you bleeding? Are you-"

Sherlock pressed the 'end call' button, then he texted Lestrade his address. Those details can wait for the report.

There was no way that Lestrade would be there anytime soon, but really, that was no problem. In the last few minutes since Sherlock encountered the criminal, he had whipped his head with the barrel of his gun and slammed his head against the dumpster for good measure.

With the final thought, the bell on Big Ben sounded, piercing the midnight air. Sherlock counted. One, twice, three times. Then nine more.

As the residents of the buildings around him started to sing, harmonizing "Auld Lang Syne", Sherlock lit a cigarette, taking a drag, then coughed horrendously.

The singing drowned out the hacking coughs of Sherlock, who stood alone and thin in a dank alley behind an old flat. Sherlock steadied himself against the wall, and he cleared his throat.

He really ought to start wearing smoking patches.

2010

The lights danced upon the walls of 221B Baker Street, the quietness of the flat pressing down on John like a pressure point, as he stole glances at Sherlock from across the room.

The policemen of Scotland Yard were more than certainly long gone by now. That left just Mrs. Hudson, who had since fully recovered from her fright with the American men and was now one floor below, preparing to issue in the new year.

That just left John and Sherlock, alone, as the clock slowly ticked towards midnight.

John poured himself a drink, the bourbon swirling into the glass held tightly in his hands. John gritted his teeth.

It didn't mean anything.

Irene Adler was wrong. Sherlock is not his. And John should have corrected her.

So why didn't he?

John walked into the sitting room, where Sherlock was picking up his violin. His elegant fingers gripped the back of the instrument, absentmindedly running themselves up and down the strings.

"So, she's alive then." John broke the silence, keeping his voice steady. "How are we feeling about that?"

Sherlock wasn't looking at him. John could only imagine why. He stared at the grace of Sherlock's turned back, posing to start playing.

"Happy New Year, John." Sherlock still wasn't looking at him.

John didn't move his eyes. "Do you think you'll be seeing her again?"

Sherlock finally turned to stare into him, and John watched as he started the first notes to the song. "Auld Lang Syne" wafted through the tense air at 221B Baker Street, where Sherlock and John had lived together for almost a year now. The lights outside were only dimmed by the steady snowfall, with the chiming of the bell continuing to soar through the street.

At this point, John could only sit down in his chair. Thinking to himself, It didn't mean anything.

But Irene Adler's words still played through his head, drowning out the chimes of the clock, drowning out Sherlock's playing.

"I'm not actually gay."

"Well, I am. Look at us both."

John sipped his bourbon, though his throat had become tight.

Irene Adler was wrong.

Sherlock looked at John's reflection in the glass in front of him, thinking deeply as he pretended to watch the snow.

All the while thinking to himself: "What did it mean?"

Half an hour later, he picked up his cell phone and texted Irene. After thinking of his message for a moment, he wrote, "Happy New Year."

The game was still on.

2011

John sat alone in Baker Street, boxes with all of his things gathered in the corner. His beard, unkempt and dirty, was becoming far too wild even for John. He really should shave a little. Maybe just leave behind a mustache. Something to make him a handsome bachelor.

"Oh you prat," he said to himself. "You'd never take advantage of it."

John drank the bourbon, and the taste was the same as exactly a year before. Memories flashed in his mind of Sherlock playing the violin right in front of him, for hours and hours, before John had finally turned to bed sleeping fitfully with thoughts of Irene Adler's observations.

Could she have observed that a year later, Sherlock would be dead?

The bell chimed midnight, as it had so many times, so many years before. Texts ignited on John's mobile beside him, the screen lighting up as much as the sky probably is, fireworks booming loudly in the distance.

John took a glance, deadened eyes darting down to look at the screen. One from Lestrade read, "Happy New Year John - let me know if you need anything, mate."

Another text, from Molly this time: "Hi John! Hope you're doing better, know you've got us if you need!"

This one made John smile a little bit. Molly always was a bit of a sweetheart. Always deserved better than hanging onto Sherlock for all that time.

John's smile fell at the thought, his face grimacing. "Yeah, I should talk, shouldn't I?"

He looked up at Sherlock's empty chair, dusty and slowly losing its luster with passed time. John had made it a point not to place even a jacket on it since the Fall. The fewer reasons to look at it, the better.

John still woke up in the middle of the night, watching Sherlock's body plummet through the air, landing with a thud right in front of him on the sidewalk. John always gets there too late to catch him.

And every day, John thought to himself, "this is why. This is why I need to get my own place. Move on with my life."

"Yeah, right," Sherlock scoffed, twiddling his fingers as he stared amusedly at John. "Move on with what life, Watson? I'm gone."

John's head snapped up, and he narrowed his eyes in concealed anger.

"You arsehole," John seethed. "You made me watch you die, you don't get to be snarky with me."

"I'm not being snarky. I'm stating a fact." Sherlock leaned forward. "I'm gone, John. You know I am. There's no bringing me back. And I can't come back. So why do you still see me?"

"You're not really here."

Sherlock smiled at him. Knowingly, cocky. "I always will be, John. Because you'll never stop believing in me."

John looked at him. Tears welled up in his eyes. "Well, I have to now, don't I?"

Sherlock leaned back in his chair. The chair did not move. "You can try. But I'll always be here. Right there."

Sherlock touched John's forehead tenderly with his finger. A tear fell from John's cheek. "I hope not."

Sherlock got up from his chair and moved to the back of the room.

Miles and miles away, Sherlock, the real Sherlock, was crouched down behind a tree with a gun clenched in his hand. He flipped open the revolver, the sound clicking against the silence around him. Blast. Nearly empty.

Sherlock looked around. Not for the first time, he wished John was here to shoot for him. He had already missed more than he should have.

The yelling of his enemies echoed nearby, and Sherlock knew the trees couldn't protect him forever.

A gunshot flew past him and embedded itself in the bark behind him. Sherlock turned to look at it, then faced forward again to meet John's eyes.

"Looks like they're carrying AK-47s. Can't be far," John told him, loading his own gun. "I suggest you get around them, dodge them on the northside, distract them with their own gunfire. Be loud then silent. They'll never see you coming, Sherlock. I can assure it."

"I think you're right, John." Sherlock looked at him. "Follow me closely. This is going to be thin."

Sherlock heard another gunshot, and he ducked his head. He bent low to the ground, then he weaved between the trees. The leaves below his feet crunched loudly, and he heard gunfire shooting the opposite way. Sherlock grinned. John had been right.

The alarm on his watch beeped. Sherlock glanced down.

He looked up, meeting John's eyes again, firm and determined, yet soft and kind. Sherlock smiled. "Happy New Year, John."

Another gunshot. Sherlock ducked again, and when he looked behind him again, John was gone.

2012

"Have you ever thought of getting married?" John asked Mary, who was leaning up against his side on the sofa. "I mean, to me?"

"Ooh, only every day, darling," Mary told him, smiling brightly and softly kissing his lips. "Every day you tell me you love me. Every day you're with me, I'm thinking about it."

John grinned and bent down to kiss her. "Brilliant. Best to know."

Mary grinned back. "You are too, love."

John laughed, unconsciously smoothing down his mustache. Mary glanced down at it, her brow wrinkling before it was smoothed out again. "Why do you ask, anyway?"

"I was thinking about it," John replied with a soft smile on his face. "I want to move on, best I can. It's time. It's been almost two years, you know."

Mary's smile turned sympathetic. "That's right. That can't be easy for you."

"No, it's..." John trailed off. "I always knew he was important to me. But losing him...I can't believe how difficult it is for me to say. You were there for me, Mary, and for that, I will forever be thankful just to have met you."

John looked into Mary's eyes, and all he saw was life. Just life. The life he wants for himself. One the opposite of the one he led with Sherlock.

When he looked into Mary's eyes, he didn't see the battlefield. He didn't get that tingle in his spine, the excitement in his heart. Not like he did with Sherlock. With Mary, it was calm. Just quietness. Security. And the promise that everything was going to be ordinary.

John looked up in the seat in front of him, and Sherlock was staring at him again. But this time, he was absolutely silent.

This time, when midnight struck, Mary kissed him, and John felt like everything might work out just averagely. Just the way he needs it to.

Sherlock smoked another cigarette, the map before him wrinkled, ripped, and damp. But still readable.

Gashes lined his arms and legs, his back aching from the unhealed whip marks embedded in his skin. Sherlock shook his head, trying not to focus on the immense pain pounding through his body.

Instead, he tried to focus on John's eyes.

"I think if you hit here, here, and here," fake-John told him with certainty. "You can catch them off-guard. Especially if you avoid the back entrance, that's where they'll think to catch you first."

"So where would I have to go in?" Sherlock asked bending forward to look at where his John was pointing. "What other way is there?"

"Right-" John pointed to another point. "-there. It's only watched over by one man. It'll be their downfall not to arm it. It's the only way, I think."

Sherlock looked at John, his own face soft, scarred, and muddy. "I think this could work."

John stared back at him. "I know it will. Long as we stick together. Sherlock, you can't make a mistake here."

"I know. And I won't." Sherlock licked his lips. "Not when I'm so close to seeing you again."

John fell silent, then he smiled and nodded, a soft look igniting in his eyes. It was a look Sherlock had seen several times before. "Happy New Year, Sherlock."

Sherlock checked his watch."Already?"

"You ought to leave now. Midnight on New Year's? Fewer people at the door." John looked at Sherlock knowingly. "Of course I've kept track. Now go. The people of London deserve to see you again. I deserve to see you again. Now go."

Sherlock huffed a laugh. His eyes met John's, full of love, admiration. His stomach flipped. "I'll come back to you. Soon."

John said, "You better, and you better be alive. Now, go."

Sherlock burst out from the door of the half-burned house he was squatting in. The quietness of the area, the woods, was enough to keep his mind calm. The leaves crunched below his boots, the snow around him falling steadily around him, into his wild curly hair and long wild beard.

But it was all worth it. Sherlock will always remember that.

Anything for John Watson.

2013

"Happy New Year, everyone!" Lestrade called out throughout the Baker Street flat. "The clock's counting down!"

John grabbed Mary's hand and tried to match her smile. "Another year, my darling," he said to her evenly. "Although it is much different this time."

Mary glanced up, watching Sherlock moving around the room absentmindedly. She shook her head. "Remember, he must have been through a lot. You said he spent two years abroad, fighting Moriarty's network?"

"Yeah," John sighed heavily. "I never got so many details, but...you can imagine, right? He's never going to talk about it as much as we want him to."

"He's independent," Mary responded. "At least from what I've heard of him. I don't think he's the sort to seek out help."

"No. No, he isn't."

"But, from what I have seen," Mary continued. "he is the sort to answer calls for help. He raced in that fire to save you. I saw it for myself. He will help if you just let him."

"I don't need help, Mary, he does," John told her. "He's back after two years-"

"And he's just come back to his best friend, who's moved on with his life. Who's getting married next summer." John bit the inside of his lip at that. "He should at least help you continue to grow. And if he doesn't, then he's not really a friend, though, is he?"

John looked back at Sherlock, who was standing rod-straight in the corner of the room, speaking with Molly Hooper. Sherlock looked up momentarily, right into John's eyes. Sherlock held his stare for a moment before they both broke away.

John shook his head, trying to focus on his fiancée in front of him.

"No. No, I guess not."

"Is he still talking to her?"

Molly looked at John for a moment from across the room, who was grabbing Mary's hand and leading her to the kitchen. She nodded. "Yes, Sherlock, I'm afraid he is."

Sherlock gritted his teeth. "They're getting married in May, about to spend the rest of their lives together. Don't they think they have their entire lives to talk?"

Molly looked at Sherlock sympathetically. "Can't imagine how this must be for you. I mean, he just moved out? You haven't seen him for two years, barely at all this past month since you came back."

"John made his choice. And if it's her, that's…"

Sherlock glanced at John at that moment, watching as he kissed his fiancée tenderly on the cheek. Sherlock trailed off, before falling completely silent.

Then Sherlock met John's eyes for a moment, and he purposefully stared right at him. Silently asking him to break away and talk to him instead.

Of course, John didn't read his mind. Instead, he turned back to his fiancée. Sherlock let out a long sigh.

"Sherlock." Molly's brows were wrinkled, her eyes wide with realization. "Are you jealous?"

Sherlock straightened his back. "I'm not. I'm just..."

Molly's eyes widened. "You're not just jealous...you're..."

Sherlock stopped, and he looked down sharply to the ground. He felt the walls fall for just a moment around his one confidant, and his shoulders slumped.

He met Molly's eyes, who returned the gaze with sympathy and sorrow.

"Molly..." Tears came to his eyes.

Molly sighed, placing a palm on Sherlock's cheek. "Oh, Sherlock-"

"Five! Four! Three! Two! One!" Lestrade called with the entire room. "Happy New Year!"

2014

The following year brought a gunshot, fired from Sherlock's gun and into Magnussen's head. John was still shaking on the inside from the moment it happened. And he couldn't get the tender look in Sherlock's eyes out of his mind.

"Give my love to Mary!" Sherlock had called above the deafening whir of the helicopter blades. "Tell her she's safe now."

The tarmac moment was also forever present in his mind and will be forever. Because John knew there was more than what Sherlock was telling him.

If John's deductions were right, Sherlock had been on his way to his death.

And John had had no idea what to say to him as a final goodbye.

Sherlock had looked at him deep into his eyes, his ungloved and bare hand outstretched to him to shake. "To the very best of times, John," he had said.

And how true it was. Sherlock was the best of his life; that's what John should have said.

That's what he should have said years ago.

Before Mary shot him. Before Mary lied to him. Before he promised his life to her.

Before everything.

The clock was ticking down again. The minutes were going by faster than John had thought, faster than he had ever seen them.

Because as soon as he leaves 221B Baker Street, he's going to have to go back to his wife.

And it scared him how much he didn't want to do that.

Sherlock had brought John back to Baker Street on Mycroft's orders, but this was the first of his brother's orders he couldn't help but genuinely want to obey.

This was the first time they'd been alone since the Stag Night. Since they sat together in those two chairs. Since Sherlock felt John drunkenly brush his thumb against his knee. Since Sherlock wanted to blurt out just how much he didn't want John to marry Mary the next week.

He would have chosen to tell John that Mary is a liar. But he didn't. Because he'd never do that to John Watson, never, because he didn't choose Sherlock.

And he never, ever would.

Sherlock glanced at John. "Do you have time for tea, then?"

John gave a heavy sigh. "I wish I did. I really, really do."

"So why don't you?"

Sherlock looked at John, letting the words hang in the air. John paused in his movements, clenching and unclenching his fists. He glanced at Sherlock.

"Because I have a duty to my wife."

Sherlock nodded solemnly. "I understand. John, it's almost midnight. You should be with your wife. You should be…"

You should be with her, not with me. Because you're not married to me. You're married to her. She makes you happy in a way I never will be able to.

Sherlock cleared his throat, forcing those words away from his throat. He said instead, "you should be in your own home."

John nodded. "Yeah. I know. But I don't want to-"

"Then don't."

Sherlock bit down on his tongue. He really shouldn't have said that.

John looked at him. Sadness and exhaustion were in his eyes. "Sherlock, don't you start-"

"So pretend I don't," Sherlock told him firmly. "Pretend I'm too high to think straight. Let me say it. Please don't go home to Mary. Please stay here."

Sherlock stared at John despairingly. The words hung in the air.

Sherlock had never begged for mercy in his life. He has now.

John shifted on his feet, and he wouldn't speak. Deciding what he was going to say.

Then finally, John said, "Sherlock, I wish-"

Then John's phone rang. He looked down, his sentence interrupted. John stared at his phone for a long, long time. He almost let it ring out.

Then he answered it. "Yeah?'

Sherlock looked at John, his heart pounding, so low it was almost to his feet.

And also practically bleeding into John's hands.

John nodded. Made some noncommittal noises. Glanced up at Sherlock once or twice. Then, "Okay. I'll be there soon. I love you."

Sherlock felt his face fall. John looked into his eyes. Apologies were written in the air, all across John's face. But it wasn't ever said aloud.

"It's Mary. Sherlock, I'm sorry, but I have to..."

"Go." Sherlock gestured to the door. "I'll… I'll see you later."

John nodded. His feet didn't move, though, as if they were rooted to the very ground of Baker Street. John looked up at Sherlock, swallowing hard.

Then, after an even longer moment, John turned, and he left the way he came.

Sherlock stood in the middle of the room for a long time after that. Even after the clock struck midnight.

2015

It'd been a long, long, long time since Sherlock had felt this happy.

John was in the corner playing with Rosie, wearing a 'Happy New Years' hat too big for his head, with one on Rosie's to match. Mrs. Hudson sat right beside him holding a toy in front of the little girl's face, much to her delight.

Lestrade made his next silly face at her, switching into a bright smile upon the sound of little Rosie's laughter.

Sherlock grinned. How such a beautiful creature came from such a poor and failed marriage was beyond even him.

John's eyes were happy again, his blue eyes alight with mirth and joy, a man unburdened. Even his shoulders were less tense, now holding his daughter the way they should.

"Sherlock?" Molly said. "I'm sorry I haven't been... how are you doing? I know that explosion must have-"

"Molly, what are you talking about?" Sherlock said, turning to her incredulously. "I'm the one who owes you an apology."

"Oh Sherlock, please, we've talked about this before," Molly told him, waving her hand once. "I can't imagine what you had to go through on that dreadful island. I only hope your sister is-"

"Eurus is doing fine," Sherlock replied easily. "Everything is fine. Perfect, actually."

Molly looked at John, then back at Sherlock. "Everything?"

Sherlock looked at John, and their eyes met. John smiled warmly at him, a smile Sherlock hadn't seen in a long time.

One that was genuine. One that was John.

Sherlock nodded. "It's perfect enough."

Then Rosie started crying, with an ensuing of "awwwww!" chorusing throughout the flat.

"Looks like someone might be ready for her nap," Mrs. Hudson announced. John laughed.

"I'll take her," Sherlock volunteered with a soft smile. "I was just heading out anyway."

"Well try to make it back for the New Year, darling," Mrs. Hudson told him kindly. "The bells about to chime, you know."

Lestrade handed Sherlock her rattle, and Mrs. Hudson stood to hand her over, whom Sherlock tenderly took into his arms.

"Be right back."

Sherlock headed into the back room.

John followed right behind him.

Sherlock turned around, startled, as the door closed shut behind him.

John stood there, with his hand still hanging from the doorknob. As if, for one second, he thought about leaving entirely. But then his hand slipped away, hanging loosely at his side confidently and with certainty.

John wasn't going anywhere.

"John? What are you-"

"Sherlock, there's something I need to say. And I need to say it now, or it's never going to get said."

Sherlock nodded. He lay Rosie down. "Okay. Is something wrong?"

John looked away. "Look, I… I made the wrong decision. Last year."

"Last year?"

"Well, not just last year. Every time I went home with her. When I knew that wasn't something I wanted to do." John stepped closer. "Every time I knew...that I would rather have been with you. Not her."

Sherlock met his eyes. "John-"

"Sherlock, I know this doesn't make any sense. But...whatever you have to say...please let me tell you this first."

A moment of silence passed before John could continue.

"Sherlock, I have never...regretted anything more than marrying her. I should have-I should have been with you. The whole time. I don't know what I was thinking, and I'm so sorry I…"

John stopped at the shocked look on Sherlock's face. John's face fell. "I really shouldn't be saying this to you."

"No. John-"

"Sherlock-"

"I love you."

Sherlock felt the weight on his chest relieve itself as soon as the words escaped from his mouth. Sherlock couldn't believe how right it felt to finally say it, and for John to finally hear it.

John sighed, and he smiled so softly that even Sherlock felt his heart melt in his chest. John opened and closed his mouth again and again. Trying to find a way to reply.

Then, "I've loved you for longer than you will ever know."

There it was. The words finally said, finally out in the open. Sherlock couldn't look away from John's eyes.

Then the beeping started. Sherlock didn't even have to look down at his watch. Sherlock smiled wide, his face breaking out into a wide grin.

"Happy New Year, John."

John stepped forward, and before Sherlock could even register what was happening, Sherlock grabbed John by the waist and kissed him, softly, and without hesitation.

John huffed a laugh, pulled away, then kissed him again.

Finally. A truly happy new year.

#first kiss #christmas fluff #new years #new year's eve #Fluff and angst #angst with a happy ending #pining sherlock holmes #pining John watson #jealous Sherlock #snow #awesome Molly hooper #Molly hooper appreciation #sherlock holmes has feelings #cute rosamund mary rosie watson #minor Mary morstan/John watson #romance #christmas fic #fanfic #merry christmas

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slightly-brazilian · 4 months

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Sherlock (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Mary Morstan/John Watson, Mary Morstan & John Watson Characters: Sherlock Holmes, Molly Hooper, John Watson, Rosamund Mary "Rosie" Watson, Toby the Cat (Sherlock) Additional Tags: Friendship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Warstan, Post-Episode: s04e03 The Final Problem, Mary Morstan's Past, Widowed John Watson, Headcanon, Molly Hooper/Mary Morstan Friendship Series: Part 3 of Memories Summary:

Since Mary Watson's death, one question puzzled Molly Hooper. What did John Watson mean by "Mary is more involved with this case than I am" before he went to meet his wife and Sherlock Holmes? With the loss of her friend and the whole situation that followed, she preferred to wait for things to calm down before satisfying her curiosity. Only around 6 months later, on a Saturday afternoon, did the opportunity finally present itself.

#molly hooper #sherlock holmes #john watson #rosamund watson #oneshot #hurt/comfort #friendship #post canon #mary watson #warstan

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waitingformycheesetomelt · 1 year

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ok i know it is the year of our lord 2022 and posting sherlock conspiracies is so 10 years ago but hear me out.

i just read "decadent poetry" and there is a poet who goes by the name of "rosamund watson" and this is a line from one of her poems ("you are mine for a passing moment / but i am yours to the death")

and it just struck me that mary maybe knew the poet and possibly even that poem ("chimaera") and got tremendously sad because she knew that her happiness couldnt last and she would only be rosie's till her own death.

#rosamund watson #rosie watson #sherlock bbc #sherlock conspiracy #mary watson #mary morstan #john watson #sherlock

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discordantwords · 4 months

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some christmas angst

Again

Chapters: 24/24 Fandom: Sherlock (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Characters: John Watson, Mrs. Hudson (Sherlock Holmes), Rosamund Mary "Rosie" Watson, Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes Additional Tags: Christmas, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Prompt Fill, Advent Calendar, Temporary Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Second Chances, Wishes Summary:

It never seemed like the right time. And then time ran out.

_____

Want some pain this Christmas? :D

This is my advent fic from last year. Heed the tags, the temporary character death bit plays a big part. But there's a happy ending if you make it through all the tears.

Read it here

#reblogging myself #tis the season #for angst #sherlock #johnlock #oh it's christmas

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nightingale2004 · 3 months

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For my Sherlock Johnlock and Potterlock fans. Allow to present a few headcanons for the potterlock au

The Holmes family was originally a pureblood house and part of the original pureblood houses that are filled with Slytherins and Ravenclaw minds

Sherlocks mom fell in love with a muggle in hogwarts who was a Hufflepuff (the man is literally a Hufflepuff. TELL ME I'M WRONG!!)

Sherlocks mom was a Ravenclaw.

After the parents had Sherlock and his siblings, the house members of the Holmes family were cautious of this and what it could mean for their status, but they decided to accept Sherlock's father in their own way including Sherlock and his siblings

This is also set in the marauders era

Despite being half-bloods, Mycroft was the slytherins pride and joy. Best friends with Lucius and many high tier slytherins from very wealthy families and a lot of connections.

Sherlock was a Ravenclaw sass drama king. Never had a lot of friends because of his deductions, rival with severus for obvious reasons, and he called out Dumbledore a long time ago so...THE SAVIOR OF HOGWARTS EVERYONE!!!!

Eurus Holmes is Slytherin and hangs out with Moriarty and his boyfriend Moran, and soon after, they are the ones running the death eaters and they are actually a force to be reckoned with

John Watson is a Gryffindor alongside Lestrade, and they are actually decent Gryffindors compared to the marauders themselves and hated their pranks especially on severus

Molly is a Hufflepuff (you can't tell me otherwise)

John fought in the war alongside Lestrade and the marauders, John still gets injured but he comes back and he starts a career as a doctor.

Lestrade is the head auror, and Mycroft is one of the heads of the ministry department of security and law. (It's been a minute since I've seen Harry potter. Don't judge me)

Sherlock still becomes a consulting detective for both wizard and muggle kind and meets John during one of his cases.

Sherlock did have a relationship with Irene Adler (who is an obvious Slytherin) before he met John, but they broke it off after she left him and stole from him... again.

John was married to Mary (also Slytherin), even during his partnership with Sherlock, but she died during a battle between herself and old death eater foes. Leaving him and their daughter Rosamund alone but Sherlock made sure to protect them.

Mycroft and Lestrade got together after Sherlock introduced them a few endangering life moments later where they both expressed concerns and got to know each other from there.

All I've got so far. Enjoy

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topsyturvy-turtely · 1 year

Text

(Rosie's) Elephant in the Room

Fandom: Sherlock (TV)

Words: 4491 (on ao3)

Summary: John Watson loves Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock Holmes loves John Watson. John Watson’s daughter loves her giant elephant plushie.

This is the story how the two men finally jump over their shadows and confess their feelings. All because of an elephant plushie.

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Rosamund Mary Watson owned one thing she was incredibly proud of: her gigantic elephant plushie.

Name: Ellie Phant Astic

Gender: female

Age: 1 year 24 weeks and 5 days

Material: very soft fabric

Strengths: very good at hugging and listening. The best plushie in the whole wide world.

Weaknesses: shy, not talkative (only talks to Rosie Watson).

“Hi, Rosie, sweetie. What are you writing down?”, her dad (John Watson) asked, as he dropped his bag to the floor after he came home from work.

“Key data of Ellie Phant Astic. Look!”, proudly the girl showed off her scrawly handwriting to her dad, who squated down to kiss his daughter’s top of the head and review her professional plush toy data. Seven years old, exceedingly smart and good at social interactions as long as it only includes herself, her way too big elephant plushie and family, Rosie reminded John more of Sherlock than of himself. Writing down key data of a plush toy? Definitely a thing Sherlock did as a kid!

“Wow, that’s truly elephant-astic”, John joked and winked. Rosie giggled.

“I believe you call that a dad-joke, John”, Sherlock said leaning in the door frame, dressing gown over his sweatpants and a white T-shirt and a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Well,” John stood up and his spine made a clicking noise. “I am a dad, so I am allowed to make those.” John smiles. “How was your day with the little one?”

“Oh, it was quite ‘elephant-astic’, wouldn’t you agree, Watson?”, he said, making air-quotes when saying the really not that funny word.

Enthusiastically Rosie nodded her head. “Yessss! Phantie and Lock and me went to the pond in the park and fed the ducks and then we came home and played Cluedo and then I had to go down to Granny, because Lock was angry, because he wasn’t playing according to the rules but that’s okay because Phantie, Granny and I made cookies and they were delicious and I ate soooo much!”

“That sounds like quite a busy day, Rosie. But, I suggest you don’t play Cluedo with Lock anymore, he is extremely bad at it.”, the doctor said with a smirk directed at his flatmate.

Rosie laughed, looked at the tall detective, then at the 3 foot stuffed animal and finally whispered into John’s ear, “Phantie agrees.”

Knowing full well his Watsons were whispering and giggling over him, Sherlock countered, “I am not bad at Cluedo. This game is simply illogical.”

“Yeah, sure it is, Sherlock.”, John said and Rosie fell into a giggling fit. With a pout, Sherlock turned around and walked back into the kitchen.

Still smiling, John turned to Rosie. “I’ll be taking a shower and be right down. Will you be alright with Mr. Pouty-Face over there?”

Giggling, Rosie nodded and pointed at the giant elephant next to her, “Phantie and I can handle him.”

“Probably even better than I can, sweetheart.”, John said, gave Rosie another kiss and left to take a shower.

Upstairs John was overwhelmed by the chaotic mess of a room screaming at him. He used to have a very tidy room, apart from the occasional pants or jumper laying one day too long on the floor. That had changed when Rosie came and Mary had died. John had moved back in with Sherlock and was since then sharing his room with a little girl: Plushies everywhere, pirate costumes over his bed, a magnifying glass with a bunch of sheets with a kid’s colourful handwriting, on and around the desk. The closet door wide open, half of the clothes falling out.

This room was getting definitely too small for a little girl living her wildest dreams. Let alone a little girl and her father. Said girl wasn’t even that little anymore. They had two small singles now, instead of the queen sized bed, because Rosie was kicking like crazy in her sleep. John’s nightmares had gotten better with her close to him, but on bad nights he had to sleep on the couch downstairs, as to not disturb her. Or blankly stare onto the ceiling hoping sleep would make John its slave at some point. Thankfully Rosie slept like a stone most days.

And as much as it pained him and would for sure pain his daughter: John would have to move out soon, if he ever wanted to live like a grown man again. If he ever wanted Rosie to become not dependent on her father. They both needed their own space. For their own sakes.

John sighed, grabbed some fresh clothes and left the messy room to take a shower. Tomorrow. He would tell Sherlock they’d move out tomorrow.

Continue on Ao3 ;)

#turtely writes #(rosie's) elephant in the room #parentlock #lots of fluff #a tiny bit of angst but nothing severe i promise #idiots in love #love confessions #johnlock #johnlock ficlet #bbc sherlock #sherlock bbc #sherlock x john #john watson #sherlock holmes #rosie watson #mrs. hudson #johnlock fic on ao3 #happy about reblogs 🥰#*throws badly cut out paper hearts at you*

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amyreadsandstresses · 2 years

Text

EVEN MORE OF AMY'S DAILY FIC RECS

A too long list for the avid BBC Sherlock fic reader

*Friday - oohmo

12k, 5/5, Johnlock, Rosamund Mary Watson, Parentlock

On a beautiful Friday morning, Sherlock takes Rosamund Watson to school. However, young Rosie has been keeping a secret from him and John. The secret is soon discovered by a phone call, which requires Sherlock and John to come to the rescue for their little girl.

*Take Me Dancing (Again) - aquileaofthelonelymountain

11k, 1/1, Johnlock, Rosamund Mary Watson, Parentlock, Angst, H/C

“Sherlock”, Greg began. The grin faded from the detective’s face from one moment to the next; he was at once aware that something was wrong. “I’m here because … I have to tell you something.” Sherlock turned to face Greg. His posture was bolt upright, his hands were balled into fists at his side. He looked like he expected to be punched, and Greg wondered how much he had already deduced from the little he had said. “There has been a robbery”, Greg began as gently as he could. “John was injured. He’s in hospital.”

*Sex Ed on the Fly - ShirleyCarton

2k, 1/1, Johnlock, Parentlock, Not inapropiate

When John’s five-year-old daughter walks in on them and asks them what they’re doing, John is mortified to the depth of his bones. Sherlock, however, calmly decides to answer her honestly – to John’s absolute astonishment. But within ten minutes, his lover has enlightened Chloe more than could be said about any sex ed he’d ever had, in a way that puts her mind at ease and gives her a basic but important understanding of what love is all about.

*A Waste of Breath - Chryse

Reread, 95k, 25/25, DubCon, Angst, Johnlock, Sebastian Moran, Hurt/Comfort, TW APPLY

John had always assumed Sherlock was uninterested, untouchable, married to his work. He was wrong on all counts. But when Sherlock embarks on a relationship, John worries that he is in over his head...and this time he might be right.

*Longing - belovedmuerto

3k, 1/1, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Pinning

Sherlock Holmes longs.

*An Unexpected Coupling - fantasybean

5k, 1/1, Johnlock, Greg Lestarde, Mrs. Hudson, Mycroft Holmes, Harry Watson, Molly Hooper, Established Relationship

The many times the people around Sherlock and John found out they were married. From getting caught in the act to intoxicated rambling, it's a sweet tale of discovery and amusement!

*for all that bitter delights will sour - darcylindbergh

Reread, 9k, 1/1, Abusive John, Unhealthy Relationship, ANGST, Consent Issues, Miscommunication

“I’m not gay,” John said into the darkness. Sherlock rolled over, facing away from him. The skin of his cleft slid uncomfortably against itself as he moved, the lubricant becoming tacky as it began to dry. He re-adjusted the pillow under his head. “I know.”

*I meant to say always - OnceSherlock

8k, 1/1, Johnlock, Fake Marriage, Rosamund Mary Watson, Fluff, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Parentlock

“It means that you can make a wish,” he said to Rosie. She looked at him with wide eyes. “And what can I wish for?” “Anything you want. And if you truly believe in it, it will come true.” “Then I know how to use my wish,” Rosie said, looking from John to Sherlock and back with a grin. Sherlock’s brows furrowed and for a moment John felt like he was missing something of importance. Rosie closed her eyes, her lips moving slightly as she uttered her wish. She opened them again as John leaned closer to her. “What did you wish for, love?” Rosie made sure that Sherlock was listening before whispering into John’s ear. “I wished for you and Papa to be married.”

*A Proper Gift - hungryforpowernotfood

1k, 1/1, Reread, Autistic Sherlock, John Watson, Gift Giving

Sherlock sees a rock that reminds him of John and gives it to him.

*The Dilemma of the Watson Bedroom - jemariel

7k, 1/1, Parentlock, Johnlock, Domestic Fluff

Sherlock hates the name Rosamund. John wanted to call her Katherine. Sherlock thinks it suits her. Meanwhile, he and John are orbiting ever closer together. Sherlock tries not to wonder how long he will have them here, all three of them together in 221B.

*Spectral Evidence - earlgreytea68

4k, 1/1, Johnlock, Mike Stamford, Halloween

It's 1692 in Salem, Massachusetts, and it kind of makes sense the townspeople think Sherlock Holmes is a witch.

*Love is the Rhythm - eyeus

4k, 1/1, Magical Realism, Johnlock, Mycroft Holmes

Love is a dangerous disadvantage for the Holmes family, immortals until they’ve given their heart to someone else. Nevertheless, it’s not like Sherlock planned to lose his to John.

*Agitate - snozzingsnuffles

9k, 1/1, Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Mycroft Holmes, Autistic Sherlock

Pushed beyond his limits by his workload, Sherlock suffers a meltdown. John learns a lot about his friend.

*Everyone Needs a Place - PixChuu22

Reread, 32k, 14/14, Disability, Drug Addiction, Johnlock, ANGST, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD Sherlock, Past R/NC, Injury Recovery, Prostitution, Happy Ending

Sherlock Holmes walks back into Dr. John Watson's life two years after his 'death' wearing a tuxedo and a smile and missing half of his left hand. As always, John is drawn back into Sherlock's orbit and finds himself trying to heal someone with physical, emotional, and psychological scars... often to the detriment of himself.

*Climbing into Chairs - paceprompting

10k, 6/6, Johnlock, Rosamund Mary Watson, Parentlock, PTSD, Domestic Fluff

When John returned to Baker Street, this time with his daughter, he didn't expect Sherlock to fall so easily into the role of co-parent. He forgot that Sherlock, stubborn as he is, is quite adaptable. He let John in once before. And as John watches his daughter fall in love with Sherlock more every day, he realizes, fuck, he is too.

*Without A Word - Salambo06

26k, 9/9, Johnlock, First Time, First Kiss, Fluff

After being punched in the face, Sherlock has his jaw wired shut. Unable to speak anymore, they have to learn how to communicate with each other in other ways.

*A Brief Account of Life with Zombies - silverpard

2k, 1/1, Humor, Crack, Zombies, Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Greg Lestrade, Epistolary

Sherlock thinks it's all a bit of a nuisance, John is having the time of his life, and Mycroft is Not Impressed. With anything, but mostly his minions' inability to provide a good cup of tea.

*How It All Started - round_robin

4k, 1/1, Johnlock, Civil Partnership, Greg Lestrade, First Time

The story of how John and Sherlock ended up in a relationship. By accident.

*Beneath His Skin - cathedral_carver

1k, 1/1, Sherlock Holmes, Drug Addiction, John Watson, Mycroft Holmes, Angst

He can only fight a craving like this for so long.

*Sense of Innocence - tenderly_wicked

4k, 1/1, Johnlock, First Time, Not ideal BDSM, Hurt/Comfort

A violent row evolves into angry sex, and Sherlock – the one who’s been pinned down to his bed and thoroughly dealt with – is more than happy with this turn of events. But it seems that John isn’t.

*Ginger - cellardoors

2k, 1/1, Humor, Hair Dye, Johnlock

Sherlock. John. Hair Dye. Gingers.

*To be Loved by You - TwisterMelody

28k, 1/1, Johnlock, Baby Watson, Mary Morstan, Mycroft Holmes, Greg Lestrade, Pinning, Hurt/Comfort, GORGEOUS FIC

Too many times they had confessed themselves in the darkness, leaving it there, never to speak of it again. But this is different. This love deserves the light of day.

*Reassurance - Johnlocked (Krullenbol2602)

1k, 1/1, Johnlocked, Post Riechenbach, First Kiss

Sherlock, after coming back, takes John's pulse at random intervals. This is the story how John figured out why.

*A Case of Mistaken Identity - scribblesinbyline

5k, 2/2, Johnlock, Smut, Roleplay

“Hang on. You can’t seriously be trying to turn us away because we’re together.”

*Thriteen and awake - microcanonical

3k, 1/1, Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes, Mummy Holmes, Bipolar Sherlock, Angst

"In your household, you are a source of worry. You are Too Much To Handle. You are not actually on drugs (yet), merely somewhat sleepless, and as a result alternatively hyperactive and dazed. But one side effect of not being able to sleep is that the hours in a day will double. And these hours must be filled. Last night, you studied anatomy, and you thought briefly that you could be a surgeon. The human body, you thought, is marvelous-- all that fine tuned machinery, and yet that relative sturdiness, that resilience. You learned the bones of your hands and feet yesterday, and they were so beautifully assembled, scaphoid-lunate-pisiform--"

#amy's fic rec #bbc sherlock #sherlock bbc #sherlock holmes #johnlock #sherlock fanfic #john watson #mycroft holmes #autistic sherlock #bipolar sherlock #parentlock #tjlc #tjlc is real #sherlock fic rec #greg lestarde #rosie watson

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