sherlock challenge

Day 11: What is your dream pairing?

I’ve always been crazy about the “opposites attract” kinda pairings, like:

The Permanent Frown vs The Smartass

Originally posted by tweenw

The Relativity of Good and Bad

Originally posted by wattpad

The “You Don’t Make Sense But Apparently I’m the Only One Who Understands You” squad

Originally posted by blurryfandoms

Darkness vs Light

Originally posted by clockworkbethyl

Too Awkward To Function vs Literally Won’t Shut Up (but deep down they’re both equally dorks)

Originally posted by suncrow-in-the-snow

And let’s not forget the “This Relationship Is Built Solely On My Endless Patience and the Fact That Murder Is Illegal” squad

Originally posted by seipiubellaadessomentresfiorisci

Preferably one is a bit grumpy and kind of introverted, not good with expressing themselves but still feels very strongly and deeply. While the other one is more open and kind of mischievous, doesn’t take things too seriously, or the literal incarnation of sunshine and happiness. Whenever I find this kinda pairing it’s Christmas.

Reverse Psychology

Rosie Watson-Holmes possessed many extraordinary qualities, but she was a typical eleven-year-old in one respect: she found her parents’ behaviour mortifying.  It wasn’t her dad’s insistence on wearing hideous jumpers, or her papa’s tendency to leave random body parts in the freezer.  Those quirks she could tolerate.  No, what drove Rosie ‘round the twist was how sickeningly in love her parents were.

Of course, Rosie was glad that her dads loved each other.  She never had to worry — as so many of her friends did — about constant fighting, separation, or divorce.  Loving each other would be fine, if they would just keep it to themselves.  But no.  They had to parade it in front of the world: staring at each other like besotted bush babies, walking hand-in-hand down the street, even calling each other pet names in front of her friends.

When Rosie tried, in a mature and perfectly reasonable way, to suggest to her parents that they might want to consider keeping their private lives, you know, private, the response she got was wholly unsatisfactory.

“Are you worried that people might talk?” her dad asked.  

Before Rosie could answer, her papa said, “People do little else.”

Then they gave each other one of those looks, and her dad said, “At least your papa isn’t ripping my clothes off in a darkened swimming pool,” and the two of them burst into completely inappropriate giggles.  Two grown men, behaving like love-struck teenagers.  They were hopeless.

So, the direct approach was a failure.  Time to try a different tack.  After some research online, Rosie decided to conduct an experiment.  She laid out the parameters in her notebook.  

Question:  What can be done to eliminate test subjects’ public displays of affection?

Background Information:  Test subjects believe that it is unnecessary to conform to social norms, because “It’s important to just be yourself” (Dad) and “Most people are idiots” (Papa).

Hypothesis:  The use of reverse psychology will result in a reduction in test subjects’ PDA.        

Method:  Chart baseline levels of PDA for one week.  Implement reverse psychology strategy by leading test subjects to believe (erroneously) that classmates’ parents are more openly affectionate with each other, and suggesting that in order to fit in test subjects ought to be more verbally and physically demonstrative in public.  Chart levels of PDA for a second week, and compare data.

It was soon clear that Rosie’s experiment had gone horribly wrong.

The hand-holding had been replaced by walking down the street with their arms fully around one another.  The occasional “Sweetheart” and “Darling” and “Honey Bee” had become a constant stream of “Angel Baby Cake” and “Cuddle Bunny Lumpkins” and “Shmoopsie Pookie Pie.”  Determined to see her experiment through, though, Rosie forced herself to smile and tell her parents how cute they were.

On the third day, Rosie walked into the flat with a friend to find her dads actually snogging on the sofa.  With an embarrassed squeak, she dragged her friend up the stairs and slammed the door to her room.

John pulled his lips away from Sherlock’s to ask, “Should we let Rosie know that we’re on to her?”

“No.  This is her experiment.  Let’s wait for her to draw her own conclusions.”


Written for the @sherlockchallenge March prompt: Experiment Gone Wrong.

Tags under the cut - please let me know if you’d like me to tag or untag you

Keep reading

Masterlist

It’s finally here!

**Unless it’s specified, these are all Character x fem!reader.
**This will be in constant update.
**If it doesn’t specify fluff, angst, smut, etc. consider it as a not-definable drabble.
**Read the Requesting Rules before sending your request

Harry Potter Universe

Supernatural

Sherlock

DC/Marvel Comics

Disney & Star Wars

Celebrities

Other Fandoms & Writing Challenges

April Fools

The last day of March came and went, as usual, with no acknowledgement of John’s birthday.  And then the murders began.

John was awakened on the first of April by the sound of Sherlock’s feet pounding up the stairs, soon followed by the sound of Sherlock’s fist pounding on his door.

“Triple homicide, John!  Get dressed!”

“Do I have time for a shower?”

“Yes, but make it fast.  We have a train to catch.”

“Where to?”

“Brighton — I’ll explain on the way.”


“How did Lestrade end up with this case, if the murders happened in Brighton?” John asked.

“The three victims were uni students from a missing persons case that’s been sitting on his desk for a week.  He wasn’t giving it much attention, since he figured they’d just gone off for a lark.”

“Okay.  But they’re no longer missing, so Lestrade’s case is closed, right?  Shouldn’t the Brighton police be investigating the deaths?”

“They are.  But there’s a fourth student who went missing at the same time.  He’s likely either the killer or in danger of becoming the next victim.  Either way, we’re going to track him down.”

“Got it.”


Their first stop was Joe’s Cafe, where Sherlock insisted John order brunch so that they would blend in.  Next, the case took them up the i360 observation tower, with breathtaking views along the coast, over the South Downs, and across the English Channel.  Then came a long walk along the stony beach, where Sherlock searched for clues while John enjoyed the fresh air and the rare April sunshine.  

They wound up on the pier, retracing the steps of the missing (or unfortunately found) uni students.  As they wandered through the Palace of Fun, Sherlock encouraged John to play a series of random-seeming arcade games.  Then they headed to the theme park, where they rode the ghost train through the Horror Hotel, followed by the Air Race and the Turbo Coaster.

John was having so much fun that he’d almost forgotten they were on a case.  “Care to fill me in on your deductions so far?” he asked.

“You know I never like to theorise ahead of the data,” Sherlock said.  “Go get some fish and chips over there.  Look away as he’s making change, and then bring me back the coins he gives you.  I think I’m on to something.”

John did as instructed.  He devoured the mouthwatering battered fish as Sherlock carefully examined the coins John had handed him.

Sherlock’s eyes lit up.  “How are you at laser tag?” he asked.

“You know I’m a crack shot.”

“Come on, then!”


Half an hour later, they were battling their way through the LaserZone.  John whooped as he zapped one hapless teenager after another.  By the time the game ended, he was giddy with exhilaration.  

“You racked up a record high score,” Sherlock pointed out.

“You weren’t too shabby, yourself.  We make a good team.”

Sherlock grinned at him, then checked his phone.  “Text from Lestrade.  The fourth student just turned himself in.”

John’s mood was too good to be spoiled by Sherlock’s mutterings about Lestrade having wasted their time, or by the fact that he leapt out of the cab in typical fashion the moment it pulled up in front of 221B, leaving John to pay the driver.  John was humming to himself as he made his way up the stairs to their flat.

“SURPRISE!”  

John’s mouth fell open at the sight that greeted him.  A huge banner reading HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOHN hung across the far wall.  Dozens of his friends surged forward to draw him in, plying him with food and drinks, gifts and conversation.  

Beaming, John raised a glass to them all.  “Happy fucking birthday to me!”


As the party finally began winding down, John turned to Lestrade.  “Cheers.  That was a bloody brilliant April Fools joke, you sending us on a wild goose chase so you could pull this off.”

“I wish I could take credit, mate, but this whole thing was Sherlock’s idea.  He’s been organising it for weeks.  He put Molly in charge of the decorating, and Mrs. Hudson in charge of the food.  I just helped out a bit with the guest list, and texted him when we were nearly ready.”

John was stunned.  Sherlock had done all of this?  Sherlock, who never acknowledged anyone’s birthday?  Sherlock, who scoffed every time John mentioned how much he liked Brighton, insisting that it was touristy and overrated?  Sherlock, who despised social gatherings?  

Sherlock had done all of this.  For him.  

Oh…  

John looked around, but couldn’t spot his flatmate.  Sherlock was probably hiding in his room, overwhelmed by the festivities.  John tapped on his door, and then let himself in.

Sherlock rose to greet him.  “Are you enjoying the party, John?”

“Yeah.  But I’ve been a fool.”

“For not catching on to my clever scheme?”

“No.  For waiting so many years to do this…”

John stepped forward, placing one hand on either side of Sherlock’s face.  He looked up into those familiar eyes, asking a silent question.  Seeing the answer he’d been hoping for, John kissed Sherlock, very gently, on the lips.

For one heart-stopping moment, the two of them stood together, frozen.  Then all of John’s birthday wishes came true: Sherlock kissed him back.


Written for the @sherlockchallenge April prompt: April Fools’ Day.

Tags under the cut - please let me know if you’d like me to tag or untag you

Keep reading

chriscalledmesweetie

chriscalledmesweetie

Sherlock stared at the four mashed-together words jotted on the scrap of paper he’d uncovered when he picked up John’s laptop.  

Who the hell was Chris?  Why had she (or he) called John “sweetie”?  And why had John deemed this event so noteworthy as to hurriedly scribble it down, careless of capitalisation, punctuation, or even spaces between the words?

John knew that Sherlock regularly borrowed his laptop.  Had he left that message under it on purpose for Sherlock to find?  If so, why?

Was this John’s way of letting Sherlock know that “idiot” was no longer a sufficient term of endearment?  Did he expect Sherlock to start calling him “sweetie” or “darling” or “dear”?  Perish the thought!  

Was Chris one of John’s ex-lovers?  Someone whose standard he expected Sherlock to live up to?  Were pet names only the start of it?  Would Sherlock now be presented with a string of such messages?

chrisboughtthemilk

chrisdidntkeepthumbsinthefridge

chrisletmetop

Oh god.  Where had that last thought come from?

Sherlock stood, frozen, mind whirling, John’s laptop in one hand, the scrap of paper in the other, deaf to the sound of footsteps on the stairs.  He startled as John entered the room.

“Oh, I see you’ve found it, then,” John said, grinning.  “What did you think?  Aren’t our fans talented?”

“Fans?”

“Yeah.  Haven’t you looked at the blog yet?”

“The blog…” Sherlock repeated, feeling uncharacteristically clueless.  His brain was still trying to process his reaction to the imagined future messages John might leave.

John took the laptop from Sherlock’s unresisting hand and flipped it open.  As he waited for it to boot up, he explained:

“You know my blog has thousands of followers, and you’ve become somewhat of a celebrity, right?  Well, I found out that someone’s created a website where our fans can share their artwork and stories and whatnot about us.”

“chriscalledmesweetie?”

“That’s the URL.  Doesn’t make a lot of sense, since it has nothing to do with either of us, but the blog title is ‘you may as well,’ so maybe she wants us to refer to her as ‘sweetie,’ too.”

John sat on the sofa and patted the spot next to him.  Sherlock plopped down and leaned close to peer at the laptop screen.  As John scrolled down, Sherlock gasped.

“What are we doing?!”

“Did you delete sex ed along with the solar system?”

“That is not something I was ever taught in school.  Is that position even anatomically possible?”

“Hmm…  You are pretty flexible…”

Sherlock’s mind finally caught up with the situation.  Here he was, pressed against John, looking at pictures of the two of them in compromising positions.  Yes, he was pretty flexible.  And apparently, so was John…


Written for the @sherlockchallenge February prompt: /tumblr url/

Tags under the cut - please let me know if you’d like me to tag or untag you

Keep reading

Bad-Ass Mother Figure

Sing this to the tune of Drunken Sailor

What would we do without Mrs. Hudson?
What would we do without Mrs. Hudson?
What would we do without Mrs. Hudson?
Bad-ass mother figure!

Way, hey, and up she rises
Way, hey, and up she rises
Way, hey, and up she rises
Bad-ass mother figure!

She used to be an exotic dancer
She used to be an exotic dancer
She used to be an exotic dancer
Bad-ass mother figure!

Way, hey, she’s got a hip now
Way, hey, she’s got a hip now
Way, hey, she’s got a hip now
But she still can shake it!

She’s got a soft spot for our Sherlock
She’s got a soft spot for our Sherlock
She’s got a soft spot for our Sherlock
So she let him move in

Way, hey, to Baker Street, now
Way, hey, to Baker Street, now
Way, hey, to Baker Street, now
Bad-ass mother figure!

Then she met John, a lovely doctor
Then she met John, a lovely doctor
Then she met John, a lovely doctor
She offered him a bedroom

Way, hey, if they’ll be needing two
Way, hey, if they’ll be needing two
Way, hey, if they’ll be needing two
There’s all sorts around here

She’s their landlady, not their housekeeper
She’s their landlady, not their housekeeper
She’s their landlady, not their housekeeper
Bad-ass mother figure!

Way, hey, but still she makes tea
Way, hey, but still she makes tea
Way, hey, but still she makes tea
And some scones and biscuits

She’s shipped Johnlock from the start, oh
She’s shipped Johnlock from the start, oh
She’s shipped Johnlock from the start, oh
Matchmaking Mrs. Hudson

Way, hey, she’ll bring them together
Way, hey, she’ll bring them together
Way, hey, she’ll bring them together
Clever Mrs. Hudson

Then she will need her herbal soothers
Then she will need her herbal soothers
Then she will need her herbal soothers
When those boys get noisy

Way, hey, they’ll wake her up, oh
Way, hey, they’ll wake her up, oh
Way, hey, they’ll wake her up, oh
Early in the morning

So she will offer John a ball gag
So she will offer John a ball gag
So she will offer John a ball gag
To keep Sherlock quiet

Way, hey, we know she’s kinky
Way, hey, we know she’s kinky
Way, hey, we know she’s a kinky
Bad-ass mother figure!


This was written for the @sherlockchallenge​ May prompt: Mothers/Fathers, and inspired by the sea shanties/Irish drinking songs created by @vulgarweed​ and @trickybonmot for Wits on Tap 2017.

Tags under the cut - please let me know if you’d like me to tag or untag you

Keep reading

Just One Word February Book Photo Challenge 

Day 8: Slow 

It took me almost a year to read through the entire Sherlock Holmes series. Not because they were slow, but I knew that I wouldn’t enjoy them if I forced myself to read it all at once. Instead, I read a story or two (or one of the four novels) in between other books I wanted to read. 

Hello we’re very excited to announce the next H.I.A.T.U.S. Johnlock Challenge!

May’s theme is Bedsharing!

Have you ever wanted to try writing fanfiction? Well, now’s your chance!

H.I.A.T.U.S. is a monthly Johnlock writing challenge blog!

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 hiatustory@gmail.com. If your fic hasn’t been posted on the blog before we’ll share it for everyone to read and enjoy!

Please make sure to check our submissions guidelines page for more information!

Here are some prompts to help you get started:

Text Prompt

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?

Taken from the transcripts of the amazing @callie-ariane

Visual Prompt

Originally posted by sherlockspeare

Setting Prompts

Sherlock and John could share a bed because:

  • An experiment went wrong in the living room at 221B and they both have to sleep upstairs in John’s room. *wink wink*
  • Sherlock suffers from nightmares after he returns from his time being ‘dead’ and can only sleep properly if John sleeps with him.
  • Sherlock and John need to lay low after a case and end up staying with Sherlock’s parents/hotel/safe house which only has one bed… or one single bed (so they have to get squishy to both fit!)
  • Sherlock and John are forced to share a singles room in first year due to a residence assignment error! Oh no!
  • John and Sherlock share the only bed on a planet where no one sleeps!
  • A spell goes wrong and now John can only be a few feet away from Sherlock, which forces them to sleep in the same bed. 

Good luck, everyone!

Tags below:

Please let us know if you would like to be tagged in our future posts and challenge announcements, or if you would like to be removed!

Keep reading