alright now sleep

Sherlock’s phone rings constantly at the weekends for cases- a lot of the time, it’s just prank calls which he blocks effortlessly with a roll of the eyes.

But sometimes, children will call Sherlock’s phone number, children who are scared and confused and hurting, and Sherlock will take each call, every time. Often there’s not even something particular that’s happened: John remembers one time when a tearful voice said, “I-I’m s-sorry it’s not an actual crime,” and Sherlock had softly said, “Now, that’s alright. Did you just want a chat? That’s allowed, you know.”

Other times, it’s kids that don’t remember that 999 is the best choice- Sherlock will talk through the steps slowly and patiently, and John’s heart swells with pride listening to him: “Mummy’s fallen, has she? Is she sleeping? Alright, now, I’ve got people who will bring the ambulance to your Mummy, okay? You just need to tell me where your house is. That’s alright, you don’t need to remember the whole address. Is your house a bungalow? Sorry. I mean, is it all just one floor, no stairs? Yes? That’s fantastic, well done you. You’ve done so well. Now, you’ve got to be really brave for me and unlock the front door so the people can get inside to help your Mummy. Your Mummy’s going to be so proud, sweetheart. That’s them arrived? You don’t need to tha- you’re welcome. Bye bye.”

On that particular phone call, it’s nearing midnight when Sherlock hangs up. He’d almost drifted off on the couch but had leapt into action when the phone had rung. 

John takes the phone from him, and places it on the table. He smiles. “You’re a good man, Sherlock.”

Sherlock yawns with a shrug, sinking back down into the couch. “They just… someone needs to listen to them. The…they deserve it.” His voice trails off, as he finally allows his heavy eyes to close. John kisses him goodnight.


i thought of this & laughed

Hello! This is TORIEL! I have some very important things you should read

•Have you eaten today? If not have a snack or a meal please!
•have you drunk enough water? Go get a glass right now alright?
•did you sleep well? If not take a nap!
•have you showered in the past 24 hours? Go take a short shower to get clean
•do you homework or study: school is very important!


Imagery: HQ Quest au [5/]

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Wanted to do some more Steven Universe fanart since I don’t do enough, so the gang’s heading out for some beach time! AW YE >:V 

“Good God, this is the longest night of my life,” John sighed as he poured himself a cup of cold coffee. The lounge in this children’s hospital was starved of all warmth. John poured one for Sherlock and made sure to add two sugars. Sherlock swallowed the gritty liquid greedily, plagued by insecurity from not knowing how to better sooth his friend’s troubled mind.

“The tests should be finished by now, we should know what we’re up against,” John protested. Baby Charlotte had been taken to the hospital early that morning after John noticed her nose and gums bleeding. He had suspicions about what could be wrong, but as a doctor he had to remain logical and not jump to any conclusions. She had been taken for many tests throughout the day but the results hadn’t all come back and John was ready to blow.

“John, everything’s alright for now, Charlotte’s sleeping soundly. Please have a seat.” Sherlock patted the cushion of the chair next to him and John hesitated. His hand clenched as he drew a deep breath and turned in place to sit down. They sat for a few moments in silence, neither looking at the other. John told Mary to take the night off and get some rest, arguing that they might be spending a lot of time in the hospital and needed to keep their strength up. While that was true, John also preferred Sherlock’s company in stressful situations. Actually, he preferred Sherlock’s company in all situations.

At 5:00 AM John awoke with a start. His chin and neck were wet due to his inability to keep his mouth closed when he sleeps upright. Sherlock was still awake next to him, staring into the distance. He was frightfully rigid. Upon hearing John wake, Sherlock jumped up to grab a box of tissues. He offered a few to John before taking a bunch to the wet shoulder of his belstaff.

“Oh, Jesus,” John stammered, “d-did I do that -”

“It’s fine, John. It’s all fine.”

But Sherlock was not fine. His chest burned thinking of the hour he spent holding John’s head as he slept. He couldn’t believe John had chosen - in a foggy state of mind - to sleep on him. For 25 seconds within that hour, Sherlock had even allowed his cheek to rest on John’s head, showing unconditional support to his best friend. But Sherlock was sure John wouldn’t remember that. John’s needs came first, like always, and Sherlock knew how important it was to keep himself under control. For John, Mary, and the baby.

“Doctor Watson,” a woman in a white coat asked to the pair. “Do you have a moment?”

“Yes. Yes, please. What news do you have for us?”

“I’m sorry, are you family?” The doctor questioned Sherlock who had followed John out of the lounge.

“He’s family, yes,” John answered. “Anything you can say to me you can say to him.”

Sherlock’s chest tightened and his ears hummed. He couldn’t listen to anything the doctor said to John. Sherlock was lost in his own head, eyes vacant. ‘I’m John’s… family?’ Sherlock thought to himself, heart about to burst, eyes welling with tears. John was asking a bunch of questions but Sherlock couldn’t comprehend any of them. Minutes later he followed John back to the lounge.

“Sherlock? Sherlock, can you hear me? Were you listening at all to what she said?” John was defeated, taking in the diagnosis. Sherlock was embarrassed for not being able to pay attention. “Fanconi anemia,” John continued. “I’ll have to do a test, to see if I’m a genetic match to donate marrow…” John trailed off. He feared something greater than the diagnosis; he feared a question he already knew the answer to.


Now in private, John was given the answer he feared. He was not a genetic match in any way to baby Charlotte. He had a feeling the baby wasn’t his - he was well aware of his low sperm count years before he left for Afghanistan - but he’d hoped against all odds that his body was capable of performing a miracle.

“Do you want me to call him?” Sherlock asked John once he came back to the lounge. “I kept his number in case of an emergency.”

“Call who?” John answered, hand clenching.


“Oh. Yeah, I guess now would be a good time.”

John was perplexed. Sherlock managed to deduce the baby’s paternity without knowing the results of John’s test or John’s history. Maybe those years of crap telly had worn off on him.

With Mary on her way and unaware of John’s revelation, John kissed a sleeping Charlotte goodbye and marched out of the hospital. Sherlock hurried to keep up.

“John, where are you going?”

John stopped, breath ragged, and turned to face Sherlock.

“Christ, Sherlock. Take me home. Please. Just. Take me home.”

Sherlock didn’t waste another moment. He grabbed John by the hand and pulled him through the city, like a hound on a leash. After 20 exhausting minutes, John was finally back to Baker Street where he belonged.

30 Day OTP Challenge

Day 30: Doing Something Hot but not too hot because i’m a cinnamon roll


After all they’ve been through, they deserve a romantic evening full of champagne and stars…

Wow, I can’t believe it’s done! I had a ton of fun drawing these prompts. Thanks for all the love <3