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#sherlock humor
fanartka · 2 months
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sometimes the AI generates something strange/cringe, which I definitely didn’t ask it to do, but I like it anyway 😁
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hugefreakinnerd · 11 months
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Sherlock: I was pretty scared at first but when I noticed it was just a shoulder wound I calmed down.
John: ???
Sherlock: Well, I passed out but I did it calmly
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larphis · 10 months
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I think the closest thing I‘ll ever accept as a proof of god‘s existence are fix-it fanfictions. Jesus sounds great and all - but have you ever had a post canon fanfic that was so well written that it sounded like it was actually canon and you felt as if all your wounds were suddenly healed?? THAT‘S a religious experience if there ever was one, if you ask me.
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CATFISH HOLMES! CATFISH HOLMES!
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Me waking up from a nap sweaty, dizzy, thirsty, and slightly scared of life
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matan4il · 8 months
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Friends who don't forget you even after moving on to other fandoms, sometimes more than once, are the backbone of society.
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trulybutnotyours · 2 months
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i indeed also feel very sigma
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thealogie · 5 months
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one half of the good omens fandom is insufferable and leaving comments on Neil’s posts literally saying things like “your wish is my command” and “on it boss” but I gotta say at least I’m glad the half of it I’m in has a sense of humor about everything from the mid writing to the parts of it that suck to affectionately mocking the actors whom we like. It’s important to be earnest but it’s also important to be hilarious
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Sherlock Holmes remakes need to take notes from Psych and just add slapstick comedy every now and then
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dapetty · 6 days
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Nope.
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fanartka · 2 months
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swissmissficrecs · 2 months
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Word count: 7,333 Chapters: 5/5 Fandom: Sherlock & Co. (Podcast) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/Victor Trevor Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Victor Trevor, Various Discord Server Members Additional Tags: Queerplatonic Relationships, quoiromantic, Sherlock & Co Discord Server, Fandom Summary:
A podcast listener’s question leads to even more questions for Sherlock and John. Not all of them have answers.
======
Rec: Sherlock & Co has taken the Sherlock (mainly BBC, I think) fandom by storm for many reasons, and this fic addresses three of the main draws: the potential for Johnlock, the frank depiction of mental health and neurodivergence, and the fandom experience itself, including online interactions between the fans and in-character creators. 
Despite its short length, this fic does a lot of heavy lifting with regard to what constitutes a relationship (and where Sherlock and John may fit along that spectrum), and digging into the complexities of both of the main characters’ back stories as they relate to their personalities, motivations, relationships, and behaviors. I was especially intrigued by Sherlock’s discussion of his experiences with CDID.
Beyond the content, the prose is just a pleasure to read, with each character’s voice accurately reproduced in writing and the banter, pacing, and format seamlessly imagined as an actual podcast minisode.
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mearchy · 28 days
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I used to read a lot of really really dark sad whump fics pretty much exclusively. Characters getting absolutely mentally and physically annihilated in the worst, most soul-crushing circumstances possible. Lots of hurt no comfort. Lots of apocalypses. Over the past five or six years, I’ve turned to reading mostly stories about characters getting dogs and having adventures with them, or growing old together, or escaping bad circumstances against all odds. Fix-it AUs. Slice-of-life fics. I’m not necessarily a happier person. I think I just value those stories more than I did. Something something the dystopia is here something something wisdom comes with age. Dykwim
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gregorovitch-adler · 5 months
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Hi! I love your fics & ficlets. Idk if you take prompts. But I have one. Sherlock not gravely injured but getting two butt shots for said disease/injury (at his bottom) by Dr. John Watson. I think this may turn out to be a quite hilarious fic for us readers. I'd like to know what you think of this.
Hello! I'm so glad you like my writing. I usually don't take prompts, but this one sounded fun. So, here you are.
--
The Unconventional Solution
John was reading a book at night, sitting on his chair in the living room. Sherlock was lying on the sofa, covered in a thick blanket, and staring at the ceiling.
It was the fourth day of Sherlock suffering from a viral fever.
Sherlock had been susceptible to seasonal changes quite often, in the past.
John had made him go through a three-day medicinal course, but strangely, Sherlock's body was still weak, and the thermometer reading refused to drop from forty degrees.
Good that his runny nose and coughing had subsided. The frequency of his fever had also reduced, but not its intensity. It was once a day for an hour or two, but significantly high.
"John," he called out weakly. "I'm still burning."
John kept his book on the side table and got up to walk to Sherlock. He touched Sherlock's forehead with the back of his hand, and withdrew it immediately. It was indeed burning.
"That's odd. It should've become milder by now. Let me measure it," he said and went to the bathroom to get his medical kit from the shelf. When he came back, Sherlock was already trying to sit up.
"Wait," John said and walked across the room to help him up by his shoulders. John squeezed his shoulders, and placed his medical kit on the coffee table. He opened it to grab the thermometer, and gave it to Sherlock after turning it on.
Sherlock placed it inside his shirt, in his armpit and they waited for a minute.
"I'll take you to hospital tomorrow, if you don't get better by the morning."
"Not a chance."
"I'll drag you if I have to," said John and folded his arms.
"I'd like to see you try." Sherlock smirked.
Oh, how John was dying to kiss that smirk off that damned mouth!
They'd had to place two pillows between them on their bed since the past few nights, and John had been growing impatient now.
The thermometer beeped. Sherlock took it out. "Forty degrees, still. Are you sure it's working?" he asked, looking up at John through his lashes.
"Oh, it's working just fine!" John kept his thermometer back in his kit, placed his hands on his hips, and wondered. What was he supposed to do now? Surely, he couldn't let Sherlock sleep in that condition. It was half past eleven, so the pharmaceutical shops nearby must be closed by now.
Suddenly, one of the medicines caught John's eye. An ibuprofen vial - intramuscular. John knitted his brows, trying to remember why he had that with him. Ah, yes. A post-op patient had needed it when John was doing his rounds.
John had ordered some extra after having administered it to that patient - which he had paid for, afterwards. To be prepared for something like this.
John cleared his throat. "Lie down on your stomach."
"Why?"
"I'm gonna give this to you," said John, pointing at the vial as he began to sterilise his hands. He took out the vial to prepare the syringe.
"What the hell is that?"
"Ibuprofen."
"What about giving me a tablet of that, like a normal person?!" Sherlock was tapping his thighs with his fingers restlessly.
"We're out."
"We can obviously wait till the morning!"
"I could barely touch your forehead, Sherlock! We really can't. And you need to sleep."
"Boring," he said, trying to sound non-chalant, but grabbing his blanket sort of defensively at the same time.
"Are you scared?" John asked, unable to keep his disbelief out of his tone, as he flicked the syringe to check for any air-bubbles.
Even after being together with him for four months now, and being his flatmate for ages, there was still something new to learn about all the time when it came to Sherlock.
"Not at all," he said sternly but began to wrap himself with that blanket.
John bit his bottom lip to control his laugh, trying to maintain his best bedside manner. "Well, that blanket or any amount of layers isn't going to save you." John held up his syringe, which was now ready. "Get on your stomach."
"But -"
"Now," he ordered.
They locked eyes with each other. John was going to hold Sherlock's intense gaze forever, if he had to. John could see his pupils dilate, and his cheeks a bit flushed up - not necessarily because of the fever - as Sherlock looked away and cleared his throat.
Sherlock huffed and put his blanket away and lay down on his stomach.
Knew it would work, John thought as he walked closer to the sofa. "I'm going to take these off," he said, meaning the pyjama bottoms.
Sherlock nodded, but his body still looked a bit tense. John pulled down Sherlock's pyjamas and boxer briefs till his upper thighs.
He took out some methanol swab from his kit to rub at the upper, lateral quadrant of his left butt.
Sherlock hissed.
"Cold?"
Sherlock nodded and made an uncomfortable sound at the base of his throat. If John weren't in a professional mode, he would've paid attention to whatever unwanted thoughts that were intruding his mind at the moment. Sherlock always made him feel that way - couldn't be helped.
Especially with that arse on display. Stop it! John scolded himself as he palpated the area where he'd applied methanol to feel for Sherlock's gluteus maximus.
"Don't worry. Just keep breathing and you won't feel a thing."
"John, you know it doesn't work. Especially with a syringe that big-"
"Not really."
"It is!"
"Picture me in my old fatigues," said John and placed the syringe needle at a ninety-degree angle to the skin surface.
"Oh." Sherlock's body visibly relaxed at that.
With that, John began to administer the ibuprofen steadily. Sherlock gasped a bit in pain, but John soothed that area with his fingers. When he was done, he carefully took out the needle at the same angle and pressed a cotton ball against the tender surface to help Sherlock relax.
John pulled up Sherlock's pants and pyjamas and patted his butt as he got up to keep everything back in his medical kit. He noticed that Sherlock's eyes were still closed. "We're done," he said and cleared his throat. "Let's go to bed."
Sherlock opened his eyes and let out a relieved sigh. John gave him a hand to help him up, and they both walked slowly to the bedroom.
In the room, Sherlock began to grab extra pillows from the wardrobe.
"What are those for?" asked John.
"We've been placing them between us since I fell ill," Sherlock replied, with his brows furrowed in confusion.
John took them from his hands and placed them back in the wardrobe. He grabbed Sherlock by the shoulders to push him onto the bed. "Not today," he said and walked to the other side of the bed to get inside the duvet with Sherlock.
"But what if you catch it?"
John just wrapped his arms around Sherlock without replying and kissed him on his cheek. "Good night. Try to get some sleep," he said and yawned.
It didn't take either of them long to doze off.
*
John's eyes fluttered open in the morning, only to find Sherlock pinning him with his intense gaze, with his head propped up on his elbow.
"How long have you been awake?" asked John in a scratchy voice, with his eyes half open.
"Five minutes."
"How are you feeling?" John was wide awake now, remembering last night. "Were you able to sleep?" John reached out to touch Sherlock's forehead.
He did not have fever anymore, and he certainly looked better than he did last night.
"Yes. Quite well, in fact," he said and leaned in to kiss John's forehead. "Already feeling better."
"You sure about that?" John asked, looking at Sherlock properly, hoping he wasn't just saying that to avoid going to the hospital.
Sherlock hummed and nodded. Without warning, Sherlock climbed on top of John and planted a long, searing kiss on his mouth. John made a surprised sound but kissed him back, not caring about their morning breaths too much.
"Don't think this means you aren't still under observation," John murmured, as he moved his mouth to place kisses along Sherlock's jawline.
"I don't mind that at all," Sherlock said with a sigh as he moved his hands around John's chest, dropping them to his arse.
"Might give you another dose of ibuprofen if necessary."
"Maybe refrain from that," he said and they both began to laugh with their foreheads touching.
John was glad to see Sherlock back in his form. He couldn't possibly be more in love with this man, even if he tried.
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AN - Just a quick medical realism here: Butt is usually not the first choice to administer IM medication in a lot of cases, but I just wanted to go with the flow of this prompt to fulfill it. I know ibuprofen is most commonly given orally or through IV, but... eh. I hope you liked this one, Anon!
Tags: @helloliriels @topsyturvy-turtely @a-victorian-girl @gaylilsherlock @lisbeth-kk @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes, etc.
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minor-major · 2 months
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Ok but Sherlock would make the best Swiftie ever
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iamreallysherlocked · 2 years
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Sherlock: English is a difficult language. It can be understood through tough thorough thought, though.
John: You need to stop.
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