I can just imagine, they're trying to film season five ... and Sherlock and John keep giggling ...

Sneaking off into corners ... or pressing each other up against walls as they enter a room to say their lines, and end up stealing kisses instead;

And the director yelling "CUT!" ... when he just wants to get through one scene of dialogue, and they've started again ... making eyes at each other? And he throws up his hands and they lose the battle again; softly whispering in each other's ears and both of them grinning like Cheshire cats - when it's supposed to be a serious scene - And John pretending to admonish Sherlock; and Sherlock looking at John like he built the world; and John slipping his fingers into his hand; and Sherlock's eyes widening at the realisation that they really are going to tell the true story after all ... ?!; and his eyes getting glassy, and John leaning in whispering, "what's wrong, love?"; And Sherlock apologizing without an ounce of regret in his entire body, "sorry, just ... fond."

And John tugging him down for one more good snog before straightening up and looking the director in the eye. "Right. Let's get this on the record." He says, and the camera pans out to current day London and the intro score plays ...

#you can sense Sherlock’s rising anxiety (via laconiclurker) 

he watches john carefully to see if he’ll laugh at his joke and when he doesn’t he gets scared and takes a big deep breath

He’s not purposely a bastard you know. He tries to diffuse difficult situations with humour but humour is a bit alien to him (at least humour as most people see it). 

you can literally see his eyes welling up with tears.. :’( 

HE JUST WANTED JOHN TO BE HAPPY THE FIRST TIME HE SAW HIM AGAIN ARGHHH 💔

God, the tears in his eyes…

I love that representation because I don't think anybody is just one thing, especially in 2024.

John: Truth or dare? Sherlock: Truth. John: How many hours of sleep have you gotten in the past week? Sherlock: Dare. John: Go to sleep. Sherlock: I don't think I like this game.

Cake

1146 words / Prompt: Laugh

Have some cake. It's my birthday.

Sherlock picks up his fork and examines the slice of cake before him. It’s yellow, with thick white icing and colourful sprinkles. 

John and Molly have already tasted their pieces and are talking about something. John makes a teasing remark about hearing aids. Apparently Sherlock has missed the question.

“Hm?”

John smiles at him. It’s a fond smile, but a sad one. Sherlock tries to remember the last time John looked happy. It’s been ages, he thinks. Even the smile on his face now isn’t truly happy. 

His wedding, maybe. He did smile a lot that day, but there was something ragged underneath. A kind of exhausted cheer. The days leading up the event were hectic, but it was worth it to give John and Mary a joyous day. Maybe it was relief Sherlock saw in those wedding smiles. Glad to have the big day go well, ready to wake up to a new life. 

The day Rosie was born, John’s smile was incredulous, full of wonder. But Sherlock could see he was terrified, too. It was the day it all became real, irrevocable. There was no going back for him and Mary. Nor for Sherlock. John was a father, and had responsibilities.

Unmingled joy. That’s what Sherlock is trying to remember. 

That was the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done.

And you invaded Afghanistan.

It was the first time he heard John helpless with laughter. They’d stood inside the front door, leaning against the wall, giggling at the ridiculousness of what they’d just done, running through alleys and across rooftops. Welcome to London.

It was the moment when he first realised he wanted to kiss John. He wanted to hear that giggle of surrender again. To laugh every day with John and keep him forever.

It might have lasted, if Sherlock hadn’t created a problem that could only be solved by dying, leaving John alone for two years. 

He’d dreamed of coming home, hearing John laugh at his brilliant resurrection. He’d been so intent on that, he hadn’t realised. It may have been necessary to go away, but his return wasn’t as brilliant as he’d dreamed.

Well, then. Neither of them has been happy.

“You haven’t even tasted it,” John is saying. 

“Oh.” He lifts a bite to his mouth, smells vanilla, feels the icing melt on his tongue. “Delicious.” It is, and he takes another bite, even though he’s not hungry. 

John is smiling at him. 

He can’t stop thinking about John’s tears, just a half an hour ago in the flat. 

I’m not the man you thought I was. 

It’s not okay.

Well, it is what it is. John hasn’t been happy for a long time, he thinks. 

Though they never spoke of it, he knows John had mixed feelings about the marriage. A part of him loved Mary, but even though he forgave her, he never forgot:  what have I ever done… my whole life… to deserve you?

Mary wasn’t supposed to be like that. But she was. 

Sherlock wasn’t supposed to come back, but he did. 

John was supposed to be happy. He wasn’t.

Sometimes he thinks John might have been happy if Sherlock had stayed dead. He would have got over his best friend dying in front of him. He would have married and lived in the suburbs with his wife and child. His wife wouldn’t have shot Sherlock, and she wouldn’t have died, trying to protect him. He wouldn’t be raising his child alone. 

He eats his cake silently, pressing his fork into the last crumbs. 

“You’ve been quiet,” John says as they walk back to 221B. 

“Hm.” 

Happy birthday, my dear 🎂

Heartbreakingly beautiful 🥹

@lisbeth-kk Thank you! 💕

Family - May Prompts (12)

I don’t want this, Sherlock thinks. I cannot want this.

Right?

The whole thing is too complicated, too nebulous. He can’t see the end of it, or grasp the elegant thread that he could confidently follow to the obvious solution.

He’s used to dealing in hard, cold, irrefutable facts. Something either happened or it didn’t. It exists or it doesn’t. It is or it isn’t.

Not this soppy mush of I was wrong about what I wanted and I never thought I would want this and I cannot stop thinking about knowing what I want.

Most of all: what if I make a mess of things.

He reaches for his phone.

Considers googling ‘how to ask someone who might already be your family to become your family formally just to be sure’ but that’s too much effort, so instead he types out and sends the text.

The press of his thumb feels like jumping off a rooftop.

Being aloof, being alone - that’s part and parcel of him now, after all this time, and he cannot in good faith put that aside.

Well. Fuck good faith.

Consider the facts:

Living without them is impossible. That’s the whole of it.

Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.

His phone lights up with John’s reply.

+

Thank you to @calaisreno for the fun prompt series! Tags in the replies. Thanks for reading! 🩵

Fun barachiki fact: I genuinely majored in poetry in university and took no art or design courses. This is what my education got me:

The Great Game:

A familiar pink phone made a chime.

It’s a game, but made up of crime!

The bomber so cruel,

Led him out to the pool.

Was John the bad guy the whole time?

These are fun. I hope you are having fun too.

Ok, but hear me out...

John and Sherlock are already on first name basis by the time Lestrade comes around to Baker Street to ask for Sherlock's help.

Yet, when they arrive to Lauriston Gardens, this is how Sherlock introduces him to Sally Donvan.

And then again, this is how Sherlock addresses him once he has examined the body.

I don't think Sherlock did this unknowingly.

I think addressing him by his title is Sherlock's way of saying: "I'm not bringing you along because I pity you. You're not here as my sidekick, or my assitant; you're here with me as my colleague (my partner, my equal). You're more than a wounded soldier who's been invalided home, more than a psychosomatic limp and an intermittent tremor in your left hand. You're a war hero with medical training whose opinion I value highly. I both respect and need your expertise because you're more than the sum of the bad things that have happened to you. You're still you, and you've still got a purpose in life."

Sherlock was basically showing John the battlefield he missed so much, giving him his life back, but at the same time, he was also offering a partnership where the two of them make up a unit.

Maybe John understd that too; maybe this is what he meant when he said "I was so alone and I owe you so much..."

He's a doctor!

Bonus:

we may never get to see the exact moments on the show, but i’m willing to bet sherlock realising he was in love with john was like !divine thunderclap!, orgasmic ‘oh’, a mindpalace deduction climax filmed by wes anderson himself. meanwhile john’s was probably earlier on, a nondescript breakfast at baker street, sherlock entering the kitchen and yawning with pillow creases etched into his cheeks, rubbing his eyes. john gets that sinking feeling you get when you Know before you actually know and he thinks, mostly resigned, “oh fuck.” 

Prompt: Fall by @calaisreno

Fandom: Any or None

I wanna fall in love. I don't want it to be too fast or painful. I don't wanna fall in love feeling like I am gonna hit concrete anytime. I want to be caught by gentleness. I want to be caressed, taken care of and treated with kindness.

I want to fall in love. I want it to feel like stepping into a bath, smelling of my favourite scent, I want to feel the bubbles of excitement against my skin. I wanna breathe in the hot steam, inhale it, absorb it, feel it expanding my lungs. It becoming part of me, part of the reason why I am alive.

I want to fall in love. And even if I do get hurt, I wanna believe in my person and me that we will heal. Put effort into fixing what was broken. Work for us in a team and know we can overcome hills, mountains, glaciers... together.

And I sure as hell never wanna fall out of love ever again.

Because I did. I fell in love.

❀❁❀❁❀❁❀❁❀❁❀❁❀❁❀❀❁❀❁❀❁❀❁❀❁❀❁❀❁

[for the @calaisreno May Prompts4eva. Just a wee silly bit today, y'all; this weekend is Full of Family *grimace* instead of fic, sadly.]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) 11: secret

John.

Yes?

Do you recall how we agreed to be honest with each other from now on?

Yes…

I have to tell you something.