sherlock holmes letters

anonymous asked:

Do you have any acd fic recs?

Hoooo boyyyy do I ever. In no particular order:

The Incident In The Room With The Red Curtain, 9k, teen. Friends to lovers. “Holmes investigates the mysterious disappearance of Francis Colleton, a case that requires some of Watson’s specialist knowledge.” Absolutely one of my favorite fics of all time. They are so gentle with each other.

The Adventure of the Doctor’s Heart, 12k, E. Friends to lovers. “Holmes has observed much of Watson’s habits and tastes over time, which is why it surprises him when his friend objects strangely to a folk song sung at the conclusion of a case. Disturbed by the Doctor’s unexpected display of emotion, Holmes becomes determined to lift his spirits by any means necessary, with mixed results.” This was one of the first Doyle-style fics I read. Holmes’ quiet adoration of John is so good.

Grit, 5k, M. Friends to lovers. “Watson, still bruised and damaged from the Afghan War, decides to hide his inversion so Holmes will remain his friend and flatmate. He thinks the trade-off won’t be difficult, but in a moment of weakness he goes to an underground club with an erstwhile lover. What he discovers there is more than he’d bargained for.” Funny and sad and sweet, with a beautiful ending.

A Man Of Great Character And Better Humor, 2k, gen. Established relationship. Retirement. “When a bit of bad news threatens to crush Watson’s spirit, Holmes knows just the solution.” Absolutely the loveliest little sketch of two old men in love.

Five Times Sherlock Holmes Lied, 5k, gen. Friends to lovers. TAB verse. “Something in Wilde’s persecution has touched a nerve in Sherlock – snapped that tenuous thread of hope holding him upright – and it feels as if he has taken to bleeding internally.” This one’s hard, but gorgeous.

The Ill-Tempered Patient, 1k, gen. Pre-slash. “Holmes has a cold and is being disagreeable, but Watson is used to indulging his moods.” A funny glimpse into their affection for each other.

Mon Couer, 1k, teen. Established relationship. “Holmes tries out a new endearment in the midst of pillow talk.” Holmes gets insecure, and Watson comforts him. The two of them trying to figure out how to be sweet with each other–and flustering themselves–is too lovely.

A Taste of Honey, 3k, teen. Pre-slash. Sickfic. “A failure to observe leads to a successful deduction.” Watson becomes deathly ill while Holmes is away, and Holmes is forced to confront how badly he needs him.

The Incident With The Bicycle, 2k, gen. Established relationship. “We know Holmes can ride a bicycle, but when exactly did he learn?” A bit of a wobble in the early days of their love. I adore Watson’s kindness in this.

Wintry Morning, Victoria Station, 1k, teen. Established relationship. “Watson had come to see me off at the station, that chilly morning in November when a quiet yet momentous shift took place in that strange thing that existed between us.” Watson and Holmes find words for something deeper than anyone around them could imagine.

The Tempest, 3k, teen. Friends to lovers. “Now that Holmes had come back from the dead, things could return to how they were before.” Aftermath of Reichenbach–Watson is so brave.

As Yes To If, 3k, gen. Friends to lovers. Granada. “Leave for your own sake if you must, but on no account shall you leave for mine. I can imagine no sadder outcome of the insight you have gained tonight.” Watson lets slip more of his heart than he realizes, after they nearly lose their lives.

Winter In London, 45k, NR. Friends to lovers. CW: rape. “The last stages of a case go dangerously wrong. Afterwards, Watson tries to live with the memory of a terrible bargain in secrecy.” This is heartbreaking, and deep, and beautiful. Be careful of the content; but if you can manage it, it’s worth it.

I May Be Speaking To Closed Doors, 2k, teen. Established relationship. “Watson makes a Valentine, and then isn’t sure what to do with it.” Poor Watson, a romantic in a relationship with the world’s most unromantic man–so it seems.

Invasion, 2k, gen. Established relationship. Watson can’t bear mice. Holmes thinks it’s rather silly, but humors him, until he understands. This starts off a bit cracky and then ends so sweetly.

Tea From Terai, 700w, gen. Established relationship. “Sherlock Holmes gets a letter from Terai, and remembers that he does know someone in Terai. Or, knew.” Watson learns a little something about his love’s past.

What Is Right, And What Is Easy, 600w, NR. Established relationship. “There’s a reason that Article 28 (which criminalized homosexuality) was called the Blackmailer’s Charter.” This cuts deep for how brief it is.

The Red Notebook, 10k, teen. Post-Reichenbach. I hesitated to include this because it’s a bit too much heartbreak for me–I can’t believe that they would ever willingly give each other up, after love. But this story’s Mycroft is so good, his relationship with Watson so bittersweet, I had to. And it ends joyously, as it must.

Masked Ball, 30k, teen. Friends to lovers. “Six months after Holmes’ return from the dead, the delicate equilibrium in Baker Street is disturbed when a stranger walks out of the London fog with a case–for Watson. Holmes is wary, Watson is fascinated. But who is the man calling himself Álvaro de León? And what does he really want?” I love, love, love this story. I love Alvaro, I love the way Holmes deduces Watson’s bisexuality, I love the mystery and the sweep and the humor of it. It’s wonderful.

Text Omitted, 1k, teen. Established relationship. CW: child abuse. “Watson learns something disconcerting about Holmes’ past.” This makes me cry, and smile: the courage with which they love each other.

The Bee Grove, 14k, teen. Friends to lovers. CW: suicide. “Watson travels to Kent to attend the funeral of an estranged friend from his past who committed suicide. Certain things transpire to make Watson wonder if his inappropriate love for Holmes could possibly be requited.” Beautiful.

Idée Fixe, 1k, teen. Friends to lovers. Granada. “He does not know what to begin with it. It is too grave a thing to be treated as a mere distraction, too tenacious to be dissolved in tobacco smoke. What does one begin with an idée fixe? With a mind bent towards one single thing.” This is almost infuriating in its restraint, but fascinating, too.

The Thieves’ Den, 6k, teen. “The discovery of a large cache of stolen goods ends badly.” Words cannot express how I love this fic–particularly the meddling Mycroft, and the protectiveness of both of them, in spite of each other.

Since I First Saw Your Face, 70k, M. Developing relationship. “During the Great Hiatus, Holmes, studying in Tibet, reflects on his first meeting with Dr John Watson.” The only WIP I’ll rec, or read, because the wealth of historical detail and depth of their intimacy is such that I’d be immensely thankful to have read this even if it never ended. The author can be found on tumblr at @artemisastarte.

When You Know Something’s Wrong, 1k, M. Established relationship. Sickfic. “Holmes gets it wrong.” This is just 1k of lovely Watson gently forcing his medical attention on a truculent Holmes.

Pilgrims Of A Sort, 12k, teen. Friends to lovers to retirement. Absolute classic. “A pair of young travelers turn up at the Sussex cottage of an aging Holmes and Watson, searching for proof that love like theirs can last a lifetime. Watson tells them the story of himself and Holmes–which also happens to be the story of Mary Morstan, and her own unconventional love affair.” Featuring a fantastic old married Holmes and Watson and TWO pairs of happy lesbians.

A Matter of Integrity, 3k, gen. Established relationship. “It is a curious thing when a celebrity whom you’ve never truly met is widely considered your most prominent suitor. Irene Norton sets out in search of some answers, and discovers that sometimes the truth is a delicate matter.” Irene is wonderful, Holmes is careful, and this is good.

Cameo, 8k, teen. Friends to lovers. “Holmes and Watson become embroiled in a case Scotland Yard refuses to acknowledge. A soulmate AU.” One wouldn’t think a magical AU in Victorian times could be very delicately done, or mesmerizing. One would be wrong.

Chimera, 800w, gen. Pre-slash. Post-Reichenbach. “My dear Watson, It is with reluctance that I begin this letter to you, for there can be no doubt regarding its fate. It will follow into oblivion all the other letters I have written to you over the past two years, the only difference between them their means of demise.” Poor Holmes.

Something To Retire To, 9k, teen. Friends to partners. Asexual Holmes, miscommunication, jealousy. “Watson contemplates the future while he and Holmes investigate the three Garridebs.” This fic will break your heart into a hundred pieces and put it together again.

Hallowed Be Thy Name, 40k, E. Established relationship. “A word must be said upon the subject of witticisms first, within the context of the manuscripts which have begun littering our rooms.  My friend the Doctor’s sense of humour exists in direct correlation to his state of physical well-being, and the more active a man he becomes–a felicity for which I am grateful as much to his ferocious tenacity as to any higher power–the more wry grow the invariably poetical descriptors applied to my person.” Holmes’ past, Watson’s love, and an epic poem of a story. This fic changed me.

Of course, look up each author’s full body of work if you want more. Mistyzeo is on tumblr at @mistyzeo and posts recs frequently. I write Doyle-style here. @granada-brett-crumbs has another magnificently expansive canon fic rec here. @knightfury1895 and @jeremyholmes post canon-style ficlets on tumblr. Basically, there’s a wealth of wonderful fic out there!

To My Everything

Originally posted by byaseashore

Summary: Sherlock receives an unexpected letter from you. 

Pairing: Sherlock x Reader

Warnings: Agsty, but also fluffy.

Word count: 829

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this one-shot. I don’t know why, but it’s one of my favourites and it really deserved to be posted.

John knocked on Sherlock’s bedroom door. Sherlock was walking around the room holding a picture of you in his hands.

-Sherlock, it’s me. – John said carefully. He hated bothering Sherlock in moments like this but he had to give him it. It was important, really important.
-I’m not in the mood, John. – he said from the other side of the door.
-I know, mate, but I have something for you and I think you’ll want to read it.

Sherlock decided to open abruptly the door and face John. His eyes were irritated, he’s definitely been crying.

-What? I’m not ok, John and I think I will never be the same again. Can’t you see that my family’s world is falling apart? Esp-
-Especially your world, I know and I’m sorry but I think she would like you to read this.
-What’s this? – he frowned as John handed him a little, beige envelope.
-I just found it in the living room. – Sherlock read the words written on it.

“To my everything”

-Thanks, John. – he whispered keeping his eyes on the envelope.

Sherlock closed the door and sat down on the edge of the bed.
It was your handwriting and he knew it, but he doubted whether opening it or not. Sherlock hesitated a while until you crossed his mind. He could remember you smiling; laughing; kissing him for the first time; visiting a crime scene just because you wanted to be with him; marrying him; telling him you were expecting; giving birth to your children; playing with them; taking care of them; hugging him when he was feeling down; kissing him; loving him.
He loved you, and even if reading it could break his heart he wanted to do it because that would be what you’d wanted him to do. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. As soon as he opened them he took the letter from the envelope and started reading.

My dearest Sherlock,

If you’re reading this letter that means I’m gone. I know it hurts but I know the madness that you feel will soon subside. Taking that bullet for you was what I had to do. I would not let them hurt you. I would not let the father of my children die and leave them alone. I did it because I love you. Yes, I love you and I will always love you. Once a wise man said, “Whatever you decide to do, make sure it makes you happy.” And you know what? It did. It made me happy because I knew I was doing the right thing. I was saving the lives of my beloved ones: my children, my friends and you.
I must thank you for all the things you did in my life. For all the things you did for me. All of them. I’m glad to had spent such beautiful moments with you. I have to thank for the family we built together. Without you, it would not happen.
Oh, God. Writing you shouln’t be this hard; but for the first time it is. I’ve been writing you letters everytime I was not home, everytime I was out of town, everytime I thought about you. I have always been there writing you letters, and of all them, this is surely the first you’ll open. I always knew that you wouldn’t read them until my final hour. I knew you’ll need to read them all once I’m gone because you’d feel the necessity to. You’ll miss me for some time but you’ll realize that I will always be next you. Always. Everytime you’ll need help, I’ll be there. Everytime you won’t know what to do with our children’s behaviour, I’ll be there to help you too. Everytime you’ll decide to give up on a case, I’ll give you a million of reasons to keep trying to solve it. Even when you’ll get high, I’ll be there to remind you that you must give up on drugs for your own sake.
I’m sure you’ll do great. You’ll be the best father my children could ever have. Rosie will keep loving you (even if she will keep throwing you the rattle). I know that John and you will keep accepting those insane cases you both love to solve. And you’ll still be my favourite consulting detective.
Sherlock, remember me with smiles and laughter, for that’s how I’ll remember you. If you can only remember me in sadness and tears, then don’t remember me at all. I won’t let it happen. Never.
Oh, dear, we only part to meet again. So goodbye, Sherlock.  Don’t forget about me. Please, I want you to know that you were loved with everything in my being.  I wish you all the happiness life can offer.

Yours faithfully,


-Sherlock? You alright? – John said as he opened the door.
-Yeah – he mumbled and shed a tear on his right cheekbone - Just have some letters to read.

PS: I have to thank @sherlockedpottersimagines and @sherlock-one-shots for supporting me on this new project. You rock, guys! Love you to the moon and back. - xo

Johnlock Love Letters

(AKA - JL3 Declarations of Love from fan fiction) #1015

The Case of the Meddling Siblings by destinationtoast


How many friends do you imagine he has?

Damn straight.
For anyone who’s ever been called a ‘fake fan’

Stop turning on each other, you guys.

If any of y'all receive hate for liking/disliking season 4, shipping or not shipping a certain couple, or just expressing your opinion in a healthy, non-malignant way, I’m sorry. I really am. You don’t deserve it.

We’re all in this together. If someone was disappointed with season 4, they have the right to express their opinion in a healthy way. The 'norbury’ tag was meant to do that. They didn’t tag people associated with the show or send death threats or anything; they raised GENUINE questions about plot holes and character inconsistencies. The producers have the option of ignoring it. ( @arglocked thanks for organising this, btw)

Similarly, if someone liked season 4, that’s their opinion and it’s all fine. I’m glad they’re not burning in hell like the rest of us.

Basically, don’t be an anti-anything. Keep making your fanart and fanvids, writing your fanfic and metas, cracking your jokes.

We’re gonna need each other to survive this indefinite hiatus.

Something positive you want to say to Mark Gatiss/Ben Mansfield?

As I am going to be able to give Mark Gatiss and Ben Mansfield (Primeval) a letter or something similar, I wanted to ask you all if you have something POSITIVE you want to tell them (or one of them, it’s gonna be a letter each). If so, just write to me and I’ll write it down and give it to him!

You can either just answer to this post or send something in my inbox - if you do so with your username, I’ll include it, but you can send it anonymously as well, if you like. 

I don’t know when exactly I’m going to give it to him, but probably on Thursday (16 Feb) or Friday (17 Feb).

Also - you can also send me things for Ian Hallard (Mark Gatiss’ hubby).

I’d be happy about a signal boost, so more people can see this!

Tagging some people under the cut who might want to see this.

Keep reading


I don’t know if the other Sherlollians remember, but about a couple of weeks ago, inspired by the love story of Chris and Bessie as read by Louise Brealey and Benedict Cumberbatch at Letters Live, I was inspired to write my own set of WW2 letters, written from the character POV’s of Sherlock and Molly. The wonderfully talented cumberliciouscollective asked me if she could transcribe them to the page, and I said yes. This is the end result, which I think is absolutely beautiful!

You can find the original post on my Tumblr here.

Johnlock Ficlet: In Which John Walks Into the Bathroom and Sherlock Didn’t Lock the Door And is In the Bathtub and (apparently) Obliviously Talks At John like “oh hi I think moriarty’s planning this next” But John is Too High-Key Flustered to Do Anything Except Internally Scream

John stood in the middle of the kitchen, flipping through mail. “You’ve got three-”

“Details,” Sherlock interrupted, eyes glued to his laptop screen.

John paused, pursed his lips, creased his forehead, and tore open the first one. His eyes flicked back to Sherlock, letting the half-way pulled out letter slip back into its envelope. “Are you sure you don’t want to-”

“Yes.” Sherlock glanced at John just long enough for John to notice the sideways flick of attention. “The cases, they have so much information carried on a single envelope. It’s wasting my…” he gestured at his hair, searching for words, “my… head space. Unless you read it to me. The interesting ones.”

John stared at him for a moment. Head space? It had been barely a couple months since moving into 221B, and he still hadn’t gotten used to Sherlock Holmes. Sliding the letter out of its envelope, he muttered, “Alright.” It wasn’t like he hadn’t done this before. But the rapid blinking Sherlock performed while thinking of his next word had thrown him off guard. Sometimes John wondered exactly how much of his head space Sherlock had unwittingly claimed. All those bizarre case requests John had read out to him, all the rules he’d memorized to keep himself sane (don’t drink the “tea” in the fridge, don’t bother asking about the body parts, etc), all the times Sherlock had whipped off his scarf with his muscles clenched, coat billowing behind him as he ran…

“Well?” Sherlock said, giving John his full attention for once. Right. The letter.

John unfolded it, skimming over the contents. Would Sherlock find this one interesting? He never could tell. Not quite meeting his green-grey-blue eyes, John said, “Something about a dog. A drowned dog that… swallowed a wedding ring?”

Sherlock shook his head, eyes rolling. “The sister did it on purpose. Next.”

Sometimes John wanted to ask; if the case was so easy, why didn’t he just send them a quick reply? But this was Sherlock he was talking about. Normal decency didn’t seem to ever cross his mind.

He opened the next envelope. “Oh, that’s odd.”

Sherlock jumped out of his chair, snatching the letter out of his hand. The paper was empty.

Sherlock held it up to his face in the direction of the lamp. “Either a child sent me something in invisible ink, or things are about to get very very interesting…”

“Interesting as in deadly?” John asked.

“Ooh, maybe,” Sherlock replied, throwing a little grinch-smile in John’s direction.

Without quite realizing it, John’s heartbeat sped up. Nothing like a bit of danger to get his mind off of things. This must have been what kept them together, at 221B. The part of themselves that leaned into danger instead of flinching away from it.

Before he knew it, Sherlock was rushing off to get lemon juice and the other usual invisible-ink detectors. He also grabbed random things on his way by, including John’s phone and a tube of lipstick – a clue from an old case. John heard him sit down in the kitchen with his feet on the chair.

Bemused, he followed Sherlock into the kitchen. “What’s interesting? You’ve thrown out dozens of empty papers before.”

“Moriarty,” Sherlock breathed, leaning into the paper with a microscope. “Not sure, but possible. Has signs of his handiwork.”

John’s breath caught. That lunatic from the pool? Maybe Sherlock’s inclination to lean into danger was stronger than his. Or maybe he was just an idiot. Even so, he walked up to the kitchen table and leaned in over Sherlock’s shoulder. “What do you think it’s about?”

Sherlock didn’t seem to hear him. John frowned. Better to give him space to think than endure Sherlock’s irritation over being brought out of his thoughts.


John heard movement in the kitchen and stood up, making his way towards the noise.


“What?” John asked. The “letter” was crumpled up into a loose ball on the table, among scattered objects.

Sherlock turned to face John, seething. “That woman from the store! Called me rude… let me see the envelope.”

He strode into the living room and brought it back, turning it over in his hands. “Butterfly stamp. Children colored on it, didn’t have any other envelopes to use. Idiot! It’s just a prank, of course it’s a prank…”

John couldn’t help himself from smirking.

“What?” Sherlock snapped, before storming out of the room. A second later, he heard the bathroom door close.

Still smirking, he walked back into the living room to look at job offers again. Lately Sherlock had taken to spending inordinate amounts of time in the shower or the bath. Helped him think, he claimed. However true that might be, seeing Sherlock in the bath wouldn’t help John think straight. His mind flicked back to a greek sculpture he’d seen at a museum he’d visited with a date once. It had borne such a resemblance to Sherlock’s face that he had to stare and move on quickly at the same time, before the date could notice he was blushing. The mere thought of it made his cheeks feel warm, even now. Seeing your flatmate depicted naked in excruciatingly detailed marble would do that to anyone, he supposed. A bit awkward, a bit silly. A bit… surprising. He halted that line of thought abruptly, forcing himself to focus on the job offers website.

He could hear running water. A bath, then. Not a shower. Some part of him had kept track, based on the hypothesis that showers were for short problems, and baths were for long ones. Sherlock’s scientist-mind must have rubbed off on him. John took a deep breath. It’s not the thought of adventure that sends your heart racing…

(this is the ½ or 1/3 mark. Keep reading for more frustrating johnlock tension)

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