TeaJohn limped up the stairs into his flat and entered the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. He had just paid his daily visit to Sherlock's grave, and that always made him depressed.Tea3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
When the tea was done, he limped heavily into the living room and turned on the telly. He'd never liked crap telly much, but he watched it now as much for nostalgia's sake as just to have noise in the room. It wasn't the same without Sherlock in his armchair yelling at the screen, though. But it was the best he had, and he could imagine all the times Sherlock had gotten angry at some stupid program that John hadn't even been paying attention to.
"Well, is he the boy's father?" John asked of an empty room. When only silence answered him, as it had for the past three years, John sighed and leaned against the back of the couch. He pulled Sherlock's old blue dressing gown over him for warmth, and fell asleep to the sound of the telly.
"You kept that old thing?" John woke with a start at the voice. He knew he
CigarettesSherlock was annoyed. Seriously annoyed. He had gotten up in a foul mood because he'd fallen off the bed in the middle of the night, and the fact that he had run out of nicotine patches and that there were no new cases for him had done nothing to improve his mood.Cigarettes3 years ago in Humor More Like This
Sherlock stormed into the living room, his dressing gown hanging off one shoulder. "Give me some," he growled at John. John looked up from his paper.
"Give you some what?" he asked.
"You know what I mean."
John folded his paper and stuck in the side of his armchair. "No," he said firmly. "No, Sherlock, we agreed: one month. It's barely been a week and a half."
"I need some," Sherlock said angrily. "No patches, no case, give me the package I know you're hiding."
"Sherlock, you said yourself it's impossible to retain a smoking habit in London," John reasoned, standing and starting to clear away the remains of his breakfast. Sherlock had refused to eat anything.
"I know you have them somewhere," Sherlock said, turning sharply. "
Sherlock: Sick and tired. 6 Of 6Sherlock: Sick and tired. 6 Of 63 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock: Sick and Tired.
Chapter Six: That Was Alright With Me, Everything Was Alright.
I wake with a start, breathing hard my limbs shaking. I cannot process my surroundings, I am to in shock, the dream I had I couldn't remember but I knew it was beautiful but what did I dream of? I had no clue. The last thing I remembered was Sherlock tied to a chair and a gun shoot. Am I at the hospital? I look around but I'm not in the hospital, had I dreamed about the whole thing?
I blink a few times realizing I was in Sherlock's bedroom, his bed my stomach flutters with a million butterflies. What happened to me, how was I here, how long of a time period had gone by. I couldn't tell.
"John, you are awake," I turn to see Sherlock standing in his door way, his cell phone in one hand. He was dressed in his usual attire, his blazer button up, slacks and shoes. His hair neatly in place but his eyes were so tired looking, and blood shot. He looked generally surprised that I was awake at the moment.
Against the Rules - (TenTooXRose)“Say, what’s down there?”Against the Rules - (TenTooXRose)3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Rose turned to face her husband. He was staring intently at a large door marked, ’LEVEL ONE ACCESS ONLY’, a small frown visible on his face.
“Hm. I don’t know, I’ve never been through here,” she pondered, striding over to him.
An impish grin played at the Doctor’s lips. “Well, no harm in finding out, I suppose! Allon—!”
Rose grabbed his arm. “Hold on!” she protested, “We need Level One clearance to get in there – even I can’t get something like that.”
He pursed his lips, his face the symbol of pure innocence. “So?”
“Well…” she said slowly, “It’s against the rules.”
The Doctor stopped dead. He gave her the look. The look that made entire armies turn around and run for their lives. The look that made Daleks tremble and even Cybermen feel true terror. He stood silently for a while as Rose
The Final Case: Part oneHe's a genius. A bloody brilliant man and easily the smartest in London – Hell, maybe even the world… yet he can't even see the most obvious thing in the world even if I shove it in his face and scream it at him… John thought sadly as he watched the amazing arrogant bastard as he lay on the couch, his hands pressed together and rested against his lips. His eyes scanned the ceiling lazily as he thought, his body so relaxed and his mind so sharp. He turned back to the pile of dishes that sat in front of him, picking up the rag next to the sink and drying the plate in his hand, running slow, small circles on the glassware. Will he ever see..?The Final Case: Part one3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"John," Sherlock's sharp voice cut into his thoughts, making John jump slightly and snap his attention to the detective at once. "Stop thinking, will you?"
"Wha'?" John asked, his face turning the lightest shade of pink.
"Stop thinking, it's too loud and annoying. I'm trying to figure something out which I can't do when you're thinking
6: Angel: JohnLock"... Do you believe in angels...?" John asked Sherlock once.6: Angel: JohnLock3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Why do you want to know it?" he replied with a questionmark above his head.
"...I´m just curious."
"Ok... well, I don´t really believe in them. No one ever saw an angel and there´s no proof that they exist. You know, I´m a scientist. I just "believe" in something which can be proofed" Sherlock explained.
John didn´t answer, he just nodded and continued to write his blog.
Four years later, Sherlock DID believe in one angel - the one named John.
John wasn´t in the flat, so Sherlock was able to prepare everything.
The flat was tidied up and clean. Like, REALLY clean. The living room was decorated with some candles with wine and two wine glasses on the table. Nothing more, nothing less.
Also, Sherlock was nervous. Just a bit, but he feared something would go wrong... or John would say "No."
"I´m back, Sherlock" John entered the flat and as soon as he put his jacket away, Sherlock went st
Dreams Are Made to Come TrueThere was a little girl with brown hair and sparkling hazel eyes. She had a wide grin on her face as she ran away. He could not keep back his laughter as he ran to her, picked her up and spun her around.Dreams Are Made to Come True3 years ago in Romance More Like This
They were in the garden. A garden with a proper house with doors and carpets and everything. There were trees, hedges and a well-kept lawn. To an outsider, this family looked perfectly ordinary. They could not possibly know just how extraordinary they were.
He put down his daughter, when Rose's laughter reached his ears. He turned around, his smile growing impossibly wide as he saw the little boy in her arms.
All those years, this was the life he had been longing for: Spending the remaining days of his life with Rose and their children. Vows of eternal love, he had kept to himself, were now expressed at an impressive rate.
He had a family now, something he had thought he would never have again. He had a home, and although it was not quite as impressive as the TARDIS, it was worth it, b
Unwanted ( a kid!ock/wholock fan-fic)The young london school boy walked down the street as a dark cloud covered the last bit of sunlight. Then it started to rain. At first there was a tiny bit of sprinkle but then it started to pour heavily onto the surface of the earth. People ran for cover as they tried their best trying not to get soaking wet. Unlike the others, the boy just walked quietly on in the rain.Unwanted ( a kid!ock/wholock fan-fic)3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"For once in your lifetime Sherlock, can't you just run for cover like the others?" A voice mumbled behind him. He turned to see who was behind him. "The death of that boy wasn't an accident, he didn't drown. The killer just wanted the public to think that he did." Sherlock grumbled. His brother sighed, then walked forward to shielded young Sherlock Holmes from the rain.
"Come on, let's go home. We can talk about the case if you like, wasn't his name Carl Power?"
The dark clouds started to scatter as the rain slowed down then eventually came to a stop. The Holmes brother walked on. After a long pause of silence, Mycro
Perfect Assistant (a johnlock fiction)Hello,I know this is different to what I normally post,but over recently become highly interested in Sherlock the TV series. Thus,I have decided to start writing JohnLock sort of fan fictions. Expect better language from me for a while.Perfect Assistant (a johnlock fiction)3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Slash pairing is JohnLock
Warnings include language and other things in the future (do not get your hopes up,I cannot write adult content)
I do not own the TV series or any of the characters in the show,even though this may sound a lot like the programme (as I have based each meeting they have on real situations and have used some of the same speech.)
Thank you for reading this part.
Love. A simple sickness of the mind which can evolve into pointless despair and depression over a certain object or person. It seems I have succumbed to this...'love'. You may think me mad,you may question my sanity as I tell you the story of how I fell in love. But you may not doubt the facts that I present to you.
It all started about a month ago,and as I recall I was inv
UmbrellasLestrade thanked the barmaid and stared rather moodily at his martini. He plucked out the little paper umbrella that was the sole reason for ordering the martini, and twirled it idly. He'd never told anyone, but he found umbrellas strangely fascinating and attractive. He stared at the spinning spokes of the umbrella so intently that everything else in the pub seemed to disappear around him. He entered a state almost of hypnosis from the pattern on the umbrella. He hadn't realized his fascination was quite so intense.Umbrellas3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Greg was startled out of his reverie by a tap on the shoulder. He jumped and turned to see who it was. Mycroft stood there, abruptly close to Greg's shoulder. He had never noticed that Mycroft wore ties with an umbrella pattern. He found it oddly…
"I need you to come with me," Mycroft said, jolting Lestrade out of his musings. Lestrade narrowed his eyes.
"Why do I need to come with you?" he asked. He didn't know Mycroft very well, but if he was anything like his brother, b
Sherlock: The Drunken Truth 1 Of 2Sherlock: The Drunken Truth 1 Of 23 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock: The Drunken Truth.
Chapter One: Bored Again
Sherlock screamed at the top of his lungs, I barely looked up at him from my laptop screen. I was still angry with him from yesterday when he decide to call me at three in the morning and tell me he was kidnaped and dying, causing me to wake up frantic to get to him and realize he just wanted to use my phone. He honest to god just wanted to use my phone to send a text and me that he knew I would have ever had come if he just asked to us my phone.
"John, I'm bored," He says and I continue to type at the keys, "What are you doing?" Sherlock raises his voice walking over to me.
"Blogging Sherlock, I'm a blogger that is what I do." Sherlock peers over my shoulder, "No, the car was green John." Sherlock reaches over slapping my hands away so he could backspace the switch my words with his.
"Right, then why don't you just write the bloody thing?" I say and look over my shoulder at him, we were close really close anymore and I wou
Hearts (chapter 2) It was the first day of the new school year after the hols, and John was sitting down to lunch with some of his classmates. He was just setting his tray down when he felt a tap on his shoulder. It was that boy from the playground. What was his name? Oh right: Sherlock. An odd name. He appeared to have grown over the summer and was now only a few inches shorter than John.Hearts (chapter 2)3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
“Can I sit with you?” he said. John was about to reply when another of the boys at the table said scornfully, “Don’t let him; he’s a freak.” John turned to the other boy. “What do you mean he’s a freak?” John asked, a bit harshly. Turning to Sherlock, he said, “Of course you can sit here.” The other boys at the table stared at John, stunned, and turned to glare at Sherlock. The boy who had spoken to John answered his question after the two boys had sat down.
“He has this trick he does where he can tell you everything you&
Sherlock: Is It Not Obvious? Part 5Sherlock: Is It Not Obvious? Part 53 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock: Is It Not Obvious?
Chapter Five: "Yes, I am in love with Sherlock,"
John couldn't concentrate on Lestrade, the feelings were great but that was all it was a reaction to action. John couldn't enjoy Lestrade's mouth on him or the feeling of Lestrade's hands brushing over his chest. It wasn't only that John couldn't get over the one thought circling in his brain, a single name, Sherlock.
A tingling in John chest told him he needed to stop ignoring what Sherlock meant to him, not a crush anymore, maybe it never was. I am in love with Sherlock aren't I? John thought and found him suppressing the urge to cry. He knew the truth deep down and he knew he needed to talk to Sherlock about it, numbing the pain with Lestrade wouldn't be enough and it would ruin their friendship, John knew it would.
"Lestrade wait," John said pushing at Lestrade's shoulders; the other man took a breath before pulling himself up away from John.
"What is it?" Lestrade asked, his hair a mess, face flushed and
Sherlock: Searching out a Friend 1 ofSherlock: Searching out a Friend 1 of3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock: Searching out a Friend.
Chapter One: Brilliant and annoying
"You have another patient outside waiting," Sarah say's popping her head into my office and smiling at me, I smile back to her.
"Thank you send him in," I say and she gives me a look, "I wouldn't thank me just yet," She giggles before leaving.
Two men walk into my room; the first one was tall with brown/black curls wearing a black long coat under an orange blanket. The second man was tall with salt and pepper hair wearing a grey suit; I think I saw him on the telly before.
"What seems to be the problem?" I ask them and the tall one with the curly hair sits on the examination table as the second holds out his hand to me.
"Apparently I'm in shock," The one sitting down mumbles with annoyance in his voice.
"I am inspector detective Lestrade; he is Sherlock Holmes and I need to make sure he does not have a concoction." I shake Lestrade's hand listening to him talk, glancing at the other man who was swinging his feet abou
Thinking of You Part 2Thinking of You Part 23 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
There it was. That look of being defeated. Suddenly Steve felt a new confidence he'd never felt hardly before in his life, glancing to the door it was closed, he had only one chance with both of them here alone. Taking a step to Tony they were already in a close proximity, he leaned down, and could already see the other starting to tense up. He was taking a pretty big risk here because if Tony didn't feel the same way.. Tony may never speak to Steve again. But he was willing to take that chance, "Tony, theres...something I need to tell you." His voice was shaking a bit as he looked down at the man. Tony just stared, only nodding slightly, maybe that was a good sign? "...W-Well.. You see over time I've come to find myself growing more and more close to you. Since Bucky had already enlisted- but you know that. I told you that. I've shared...so much with you I never though I would with anyone. Even Bucky. But I did...you had gotten me to feel..so comfortable in my old body...and en
Amends They worried, he knew that.Amends3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
It was true that his mental state seemed to be deteriorating all the time. The joke shop had been closed for days, now. He must have lost a lot of sales.
He didn’t care.
Why should he care? What did money matter, when they were richer than they’d ever needed to be? What did the shop matter, when the only other person who had shared the dream was gone?
What did anything matter, when he was half of a whole?
Yes, they worried. They all worried. His mother most of all, of course, as all mothers did. His father, who always seemed unsure of what to do around him now. His siblings… Well, they had all felt almost the same pain he had. Almost. None of them had lost their other halves.
He didn’t know what he was thinking half the time. The other half, his thoughts were incomplete.
You see, Fred had always been there to complete them for him.
When Worlds Collide (Doctor Who/Avenger x Reader)When Worlds Collide (Doctor Who/Avenger x Reader)3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
You never thought one of your dreams would come true and you never thought it would take you face-to face with the man who was known as The God of Mischief.
It all started an hour ago, you are in ( whatever year of schooling you're in) in (state) and life seems great on the outside, on the inside you are a mess. You feel lonely and are starting to give up hope in a man, you only knew through British television. If you are thinking of the same man then we are on the same page, this man is a dream to many dreamers in the world. Though tonight, that dream of many others and your dreams kind of are coming true. It is hard to believe in the man called The Doctor, but you always try to keep that spark going with continuous re-runs of the show. To get back on track, you were just lying there in your bed, still in the clothes from the previous day. You had your phone lying on your chest, softly playing a tune by (your favorite band), while kicking the string back and forth on your (shoes). You
The Final Case: Part TwoSherlock let the door snap shut behind him as he jogged down the stairs and out into the wind that nipped playfully at his skin and coat. Jerking his coat up to block the wind a little bit more, he started swiftly down the sidewalk, heading in the opposite direction of the store. He would worry about the shopping he promised John later, for right now, he was only interested in walking and, possibly, a drink at the corner bar.The Final Case: Part Two3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
His mind was racing as he pieced together the puzzle John seemed to be subconsciously leaving for him. It was difficult, to give the doctor props, and very well thought out. He kept leaving small hints here and there, slipping them into everyday conversations and actions. He knew John thought he wasn't picking them up, but of course, he was. Problem was, he wasn't sure how he was supposed to come up with an answer. He didn't know what he was supposed to figure out; cases were easy, he knew the basic outcome. There was always the victim, and there was always the cu
Hearts (prelude/Chapter 1)John looked up from his notebook and looked across the playground. A small, somber boy, probably around the age of six, was looking steadily back at him. John eyed him curiously from the other side of the playground, across the sea of children yelling and playing. The other boy seemed to be trying to read his mind from across the playground. John shook his head slightly, trying to shake off the younger boy's gaze. He turned back to his notebook, and realized that he had been sketching without noticing. Blushing slightly, he realized his hand had drawn a truly excellent sketch of the younger boy across the playground. He glanced up at the other boy who was smirking as if he knew exactly what John had been doing. John's eyes flickered down to his notebook and then back up, but when his glance returned to the opposite side of the playground, the boy was gone. John had no idea who he was or why he had been watching John. He shook his head once again and returned to his notebook.Hearts (prelude/Chapter 1)3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
It was the
A Love Poem for Sherlock Holmes"Oh Sherlock, how I love thee…"A Love Poem for Sherlock Holmes3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Sherlock and John started from their respective seats and hurried to the window. Sherlock opened it to reveal a young woman standing in the half-light, declaiming to the entirety of Baker Street. John wondered who on earth she was.
"Thy hair like soft coal…"
Sherlock turned to John. "What on earth is she talking about?" he said in annoyance. "I think it's a love poem," John answered, still staring out the window.
"Thine eyes like the sea…"
"Why would someone be writing me a love poem?" Sherlock asked, confused. "One of those stalker fangirls, I'd think," John replied. "You know, that's actually not a bad description of you." Sherlock stared at John. "What?" "Well, a bit over-romanticized, obviously," John added hastily. Returning to his chair, he said under his breath, "It's not bad, though, actually…"
"Thy fingers as soft spiderwebs, stroking silent strings…"
"Shut up!" Sherlock yelled out the window and slammed it shut. He flopped back down on the couc
Sherlock: Is It Not Obvious? Part 1Sherlock: Is It Not Obvious? Part 13 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock: Is It Not Obvious?
Chapter One: Bloody hell Mycroft, you have such bad timing.
Note: I promise you all this is a Johnlock fic XD there is a subplot to this plot! LOL I just didn't want to confuse any of you. Alright carry on.
"I'm getting fat," John stated aloud not really caring if Sherlock heard him or not, as he pinched a small roll of fat between his thumb and index finger. John made a face looking down at it then shoved his jumper down firmly over his stomach, John wasn't sure if he could shower tonight without noticing it.
"Mmm," Sherlock grunted a late reply as he lay on the couch in his dressing gown staring up at the ceiling. John knew Sherlock could care less about his physical appearance as long as John could still run after him during a case. John could proudly say he could still do that even with the bit of weight gain, which was now disappointing him.
'It must be the excess of takeaway I've been consuming with Sherlock' John thought as he crossed the sitting roo
Sherlock: Sick and tired. 4 Of 6Sherlock: Sick and tired. 4 Of 63 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock: Sick and Tired.
Chapter Four: Best Intentions.
Sherlock has been attached to his computer screen for the past two days; he has gotten better fever gone down and his throat better but still hurt him. I should have suspected one of two things, one I couldn't hold Sherlock back too long and the second that he was up to no good, no good at all. I should have suspected when he stopped pacing the floors or complaining, that something was off and when he started to mess around on his laptop for hours or check his phone every half hour. For some reason I ignored this and put it off as him trying to cope in indoor life while he got better, maybe Sherlock was right to be frustrated that people just don't think.
No I didn't question until I woke one morning tied to a chair facing Sherlock who was also tied to a bloody chair facing me. His head dipped swaying side to side; at least he wasn't dead, yet not until I got through with him. If we lived that long anyway, I looked around with ha
4: Candy Canes: JohnLock"Sherlock, did you see the candy canes?" John asked aloud from the living room. "... no, I didn´t. You sure you bought some?" - "Yes, I AM sure."4: Candy Canes: JohnLock3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
John searched everywhere to find them. In the kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, living room, also in the fridge (and hoped Sherlock did NOT misuse them for an experiment) - but they were gone.
"Come on John, it´s ok. We can survive without them." - "But I like them." John pouted. Sherlock kissed him. "You can have my kisses instead." - "Well... this is a good offer. I think I´ll forget about the canes ~ "
John tousled through his dark curles and smiled. "I´ll go and buy a present for Ms Hudson now. See you later!"
After he left, Sherlock hung the candy canes he hid on the christmas tree with a sign on one which said "Surprise, my beloved. XXX, Sherly."
Let's Play || Doctor Who FanfictionSomewhere in the middle of Britain, the sound of flats and sneakers slapping down on pavement echo across the walls of a small Catholic school. Students file out of doors in random, chaotic order, their voices screaming like a hundred pealing bells. The younger students stay put on the pavement, bouncing energetically back and forth, across the walls, into someone else's face. Older students drag their iPods, MP3's and friends into secluded places outside of the paved area, where a small chain of pine trees line the pavement; a nice, green haven surrounded by ugly, grey chain fences. A small redhead girl was sitting beneath one of the trees right now, buried in a massively boring dictionary as big as her own torso.Let's Play || Doctor Who Fanfiction3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Surly… supper… tablet… tapestry…" She mumbled in a Scottish accent. Her grey eyes furrowed into a cute kind of concentration as the little girl flipped one yellowed page after another, hoping to find the word she needed. After all, if she was going to look for it she figure