Merry Christmas!! The zine these drawings were originally meant for kind of fell through so I decided to post them today as a gift to you all instead. The theme was about giving kindness and helping out the community, what better time to share them than the holiday season!
Out of all of them, the Marinette and Alya one is my favorite. Which do you guys like best? :)
We’re loving this months theme so far! Thanks to everyone who has already submitted fic’s we get so excited when we get a tag notification, ask or email!
In keeping with May’s theme here are some fabulous stories we’ve read that we’d like to share with you! These are all lovely, sweet, sexy and just so fluffy you’ll squee. Enjoy!
A Discourse on the Inadequacy of a Duvet by guns_and_poses Words: 1,005, T Summary: For a prompt: Sherlock keeps stealing the covers when they share a bed because he wants John to move closer to him when they are sleeping but of course doesn’t want to ask. John gets annoyed at first until he realises what Sherlock wants and is more than happy to oblige.John looks over at the folds of covers gathered on the opposite side of Sherlock’s body, then glances up at Sherlock’s face. “You’re doing it again.”
Adjacent by weeesi Words: 5,711, E Summary: “Oi. I’ve just asked you twice where our bloody room is.”Oh, John.“Rooms, I meant. Obviously.”The innkeeper blew his nose into his handkerchief, already sodden with the effects of the spring bloom, and shot a knowing look between the two of them. “Ta, lads. Have a good ‘un.”Sherlock rolled his eyes and spun on his heel, leaving John trailing behind him.
A garden party in Sussex by alexaprilgarden Words: 8,681, E Summary: Mrs Holmes turns 75 and decides to have a garden party at home in Sussex. She invites Mycroft and Sherlock – and John. Sherlock asks John to play his boyfriend for that weekend. Lots of fluff, summer stuff and a bit of smut.
An Infinity Of Mornings by klein_monsti Words: 13,070, T Summary: For so long 221B had been his home, even in those last years when he hadn’t lived there anymore, it had always felt good to be there, it had felt right. And now this place, this sanctuary is gone. At least for now. And Sherlock has no place to stay. In the wake of The Final Problem Sherlock and John rebuild their flat and their relationship.
Assurance by belovedmuerto Words: 2,382, T Summary: It’s not so much the ‘you’re half-dead, you wanker,’ or even the broken ribs, the hairline fracture of the pelvis, the dislocated shoulder and knee, and the wrenched ankle.
Caught by Salambo06 Words: 1,859, E Summary: Based on a prompt : “Johnlock necessary bed sharing and one has a wet dream and the other catches them"A hotel room. They’re here for a case, hadn’t planned to spend the night and ended up sharing a room. No, sharing a bed. Suddenly John is very much aware of his own hand closed around his hard cock and the ragged breathing next to him. Closing his eyes for the briefest second, John dares to turn his head just enough to confirm what he already knows.Sherlock, on his side, watching him.
Everything by patternofdefiance Words: 4,409, E Summary: John wakes up with an armful of Sherlock.This – situation – is unusual, yes, and definitely unfamiliar, but in no way does it feel wrong.Rather, it feels the exact opposite.
Ghost Stories by SwissMiss Words: 22,256, M Summary: Sherlock’s parents think he and John are a couple. They might be onto something.
In the Morning by erebones Words: 3,921, E Summary: for paula bennyslegs: [gets down on my knees] someone please write sherlock and john sharing a bed because of a case… and one of them waking up to the sound of the other having a wet dream please [presses face to the ground] especially if they’re saying the other persons name whilst doing it please [sinks into the ground]
Knotted by naughtyspirit Words: 23,166, E Summary: John has to cancel a date because of Sherlock’s case, which leads them to be tied up in a basement from which they have to escape.They get wet, get tied up close and John has to step up and save them.Because he’s pretty. And hot. And just a little bit of a BAMF.
Rainbow Hearts Retreat by PajamaSecrets Words: 11,638, E Summary: "It’s a same-sex couples retreat. For those experiencing troubles in their relationship. Consists of group and couples therapy as well as encouraging socialization between the couples. It’s all in their incredibly dull brochure.”“Rainbow Hearts Retreat,” John read. “Sounds… quite gay.”
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It is the
29th of January, and I am eighty-nine years old, sitting in the
garden of my Sussex cottage and watching the world’s only consulting detective
play the violin. Her blonde hair is a mass of curls and the heels of her shoes
are sinking into the grass as she sways and dances with the instrument.
Sherlock has been dead for two years and missing him is an ache in my chest,
except for those brief moment when I close my eyes and listen to Rose coax his
instrument to life, and dream.
Daddy,” comes the soft murmur as the music stops. “I’m going to have to go
soon. Miranda said she might need me to look at this really interesting murder
I nod and
smile and get to my feet and-
I’m standing in a lab at Bart’s and the most
unearthly man I have ever seen asks to borrow my mobile and I say yes, and I do
not understand in that moment that I will never stop saying yes to this man.
under my cheek and Rose is crying as she turns me
I am strapped into a bomb and I am telling him
to run, and I do not know that I have just carved out his heart and taken it
for my own.
haloes her hair and tears fall on my face.
I am standing in front of a grave and asking
for another miracle, not knowing that my miracle is making his way toward me as
I stand there.
I try to
tell her not to cry. I am not sure if I succeed.
I am standing in front of the man I love with
tears on my face, and he draws me close and enfolds me in his boundless
at me and throws her phone to the ground and holds my hands in hers. The sky
behind her is fading to grey, and it occurs to me to wonder if I am dying.
I am wordless and at the end of my rope, and
Sherlock has mercy on me and kisses me and I know that I hold his heart in his
hands and he, mine.
speaking but I can’t hear her. There’s a sound like a train whistle, like a summons
bell, and I can’t hear her.
I am on my knees and I have just asked Sherlock
Holmes to marry me, and he falls to his knees with tears in his eyes and says
yes yes yes like a prayer or a song or the only word he knows.
her hand across my brow and smiles at me again, and the whistle fades.
I wake up every morning for a thousand days and
he’s there, sleep-rumpled and happy and smiling at me as though I’d hung the
“I love you,
Daddy,” she murmurs as her hand cups my cheek. “Thank you for staying so long,
I love you but it’s time to go.”
I’m watching my daughter get married and my
husband is at my side and we go home and cry tears of joy on each other’s skin
and make slow love in front of the fire.
Sherlock I love him, and I’ll see you again someday,” my daughter says and
kisses my forehead.
I’m standing at the foot of a hospital bed, and
monitors are screaming and doctors are shouting but they needn’t bother, he’s
already gone. Always rushing ahead, my beloved, leaving me to tag along behind
him. Well, no matter, I’ll catch up.
I am adrift
in whiteness but there, there is a tall shadow in the distance. A man, perhaps,
running. He has his coat collar up so he looks cool, and he’s shouting ‘Come
on, John!’ and I follow. I will always follow. My legs are young and strong as they haven’t been in forty years or more, and the head of the man in front of me is dark as the midnight sky, and I am young and he is young and we are young here, together. Forever.
Submissions open on the 2nd of every month for that month’s H.I.A.T.U.S. theme! The challenge is to write a fic related to the theme between 100 and 25,000 words before submissions close at Midnight EST on the 21st of May.
Everyone is welcome to submit a fic, it could be your first time or you could be a seasoned fic author! Already written a fic that suits this month’s theme? Just send us a link to your Fic through our ask box, tagging @hiatustory or by sending us an email at email@example.com. If your fic hasn’t been posted on the blog before we’ll share it for everyone to read and enjoy!
BILLY: What with the monster and that ruddy prison, I don’t know how we sleep nights. Do you, Gary? (Gary stops and puts a hand on his shoulder and looks at him affectionately.) GARY: Like a baby. BILLY: That’s not true. (He looks at John.) He’s a snorer. GARY (embarrassed, trying to shut him up): Hey, wheesht! BILLY (to John): Is yours a snorer? JOHN: … Got any crisps?