#sussex husbands
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Sherlock fandom. Parentlock.
Not my colour
They’re both excited when Rosie announces that she’ll visit them in Sussex for the first time. She’s travelled the world with Doctors Without Borders for five years now, and it’s been easier to meet up in London, whenever she’s come back for a short period of time.
Rosie’s got two weeks off and will stay with them for at least three or four days she’d said. John’s fussing nervously, muttering under his breath, twitching his hands, making Sherlock tense up as well.
“Why are you so nervous?” Sherlock growls in frustration, making a mess of his salt and peppery coloured curls.
“I’m not nervous!” John insists petulantly.
“Are too,” Sherlock murmurs.
“What was that?” John inquires, but Sherlock’s already headed for his beehives at the far end of the garden.
“I heard you,” John states to the now empty kitchen.
***
John’s heart flutters with excitement when he’s waiting for Rosie’s train to arrive. His left hand holds on to Sherlock’s for dear life. When Sherlock ghosts his lips over John’s temple, his heart skips a beat. Sherlock’s proximity still fills John with expectation, love and desire. He turns his face upwards and pecks Sherlock’s lips softly. The smile he receives is genuine and radiant, and John’s pulse slows a bit.
“I love you,” John whispers and lets his thumb stroke Sherlock’s knuckles.
“I love you too, John,” Sherlock says and pulls John to his chest.
They both sigh contentedly lost in their own bubble of bliss.
A familiar voice startles them.
“Daddy. Papa!”
How they’re able to lock everything out like this, still baffles John.
***
After dinner, they seat themselves in the garden. Rosie wanders around admiring the flower beds, Sherlock’s beehives and the vegetable section. She joins them after a while and takes the bottle of beer John offers her.
“So, how was Morocco?” Sherlock asks her.
She narrows her eyes at him, and when he winks, she chuckles.
“Uncle Myc still looks out for me, then?” she inquires.
“Please, Rosebud, he’s more concerned about you than all the rest of us combined,” Sherlock says with his normal dramatic flair.
“Don’t you dare tell him, or you’ll have no fathers to visit the next time you’re home,” John says mirthfully.
“Oh, I’m sure uncle Greg can prevent that,” Rosie retorts.
“Hardly,” Sherlock huffs. “Now, Morocco?”
“Before I tell you anything about my trip, do you remember the little pink houses Molly bought for my sixth birthday?”
Both men nod and smile at the memory.
“You wanted to paint them,” John says.
“I did! Pink never was my colour. Not then, not now. Blue and purple however…”
Rosie gets a dreamy look on her face and a smile form on her lips.
“You visited Chefchaouen!” Sherlock exclaims and sits up straight, leaning forward, lest he miss a word.
Rosie leans toward him and squeezes his hand before she continues her story from the blue city of Morocco.
“I fell in love with that place. Its beauty is beyond belief. All those shades of blue enthralled me, and quite a few of the houses had the same shape as my toy houses. I wandered the streets for hours. It was like walking inside a fairytale book. And that’s when I decided to come home. For good. All this travelling, being stuck in dangerous places…well, it’s taken its toll, and besides…”
“You’re in love, aren’t you?” John says softly.
Sherlock looks at him with awe. How had he missed observing the changes in Rosie? He’s always had a blind spot when it came to the Watsons in his life.
“Yes,” Rosie confirms with a broad grin. “Becca. She’s not particularly fond of pink either. Good match!”
“Ah,” Sherlock says thoughtfully. “I guess it’s not your childhood friend Rebecca Stuart, then.”
“Barbie-Becca, you mean? Definitely not!” Rosie says with emphasis.
“She’s the biggest homophobe I’ve ever come across. Met her last year at Heathrow. Wanted to know if you two still were together.”
Rosie rolls her eyes dramatically.
“Do you know what she said when I told her you’ve moved here?”
Rosie clearly doesn’t expect an answer but stands up abruptly to get into character. John grabs Sherlock’s hand and looks expectantly at their daughter who’s determined to bestow them with a little performance. She clears her throat and when she speaks, her voice is higher pitched than normal, with a cockney accent.
“I bet their cottage is painted pink! Who’s the man in the relationship? I bet it’s Sherlock. He’s the tall one, yeah? No wonder you chose to live abroad. I’d die if my father where to play for the other team.”
“I wish I could’ve shown you a photo of her expression when I told her I was gay,” Rosie says in her normal voice. “She’ll need therapy for the foreseeable future after this, I think. You never know if sexual orientation is contagious…”
“Just say the word, and I’ll have a talk with Mycr…”
“Out of the question!” both Watsons say in unison, happily unaware that Sherlock’s phone has been switched to recording mode…
@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @a-victorian-girl @phoenix27884 @peanitbear @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitchworld @raina-at @helloliriels @topsyturvy-turtely @sabsi221b
#flash fiction friday#FFF235#little pink houses#sherlock fandom#sherlock#john watson#rosie watson#johnlock#sherlock fanfic#bbc sherlock#parentlock#sussex husbands
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Doting Husbands
Chapter One: Exposition
Sherlock takes on a new hobby: writing a story. If only something would happen! Takes place a year after the ending of Wooing Sherlock Holmes. He and John have been married for a year, still retired, living in Sussex.
Note: If you haven’t read Wooing Sherlock Holmes, this contains some references to the events of that story, so you might want to read that first.
Tagging: @peanitbear @mydogwatson @chinike @lisbeth-kk @ninasnakie @lhrinchelsea @sentimentalfuturist @totallysilvergirl. @keirgreeneyes @grace-in-the-wilderness @inevitably-johnlocked
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What if Aziraphale and Crowley go to the river from season 1 where courting couples go to hold hands and get all lovey-dovey in the Sussex sunset?? The place where the delivery man and his wife would go to spoon, and on one memorable occasion, fork???
What then?!?
#good omens#ineffable husbands#i'm rewatching s1 in preparation#and now i'm convinced that this will be a callback#that imagery is too good#'lovey dovey in the sussex sunset' i mean come ON
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Well if you're sure about your submission to me and will be loyal to mommy after you one time tribute to show your commitment slide to my dm
#virgin humiliation#submisive and breedable#censored for betas#virgin loser#cbt and ballbusting#female led world#female supermacy#feminized husband#feminization captions#censored for losers#beta sissy#faggot sissy#humili sissi#sissy and slave#feminized sissy#feminine sissy#west sussex#humiliated sissy#panty sissy#humiliation sissy#permanent sissy#sissi faggot#sissi slave#sissy caged#bdsmshop#pokemon bdsp#bdsmslave#beta faggot#faggot training#forced faggot
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"Since I first visited Africa at 13 years old, I've always found hope on the Continent. In fact for most of my life it has been my lifeline, a place where I have found peace and healing time and time again. It's where I felt closest to my Mother and sought solace after she died, and where I knew I had found a soulmate in my wife."
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Repost from @doria_ragland_fanpage on Instagram.
#british royal family#brf#meghan markle#duchess of sussex#prince harry#duke of sussex#the obsession is real#these people are sick#like husband like wife
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these colors fade for you only ; benedict bridgerton x reader
pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader
summary: one thing worse than seeing your enemy often was living under the same roof, certainly, and you and benedict suffered from that unfortunate condition. not even the eleven years you've slept separated by a thin wall only helped you overcome that hatred, you would always hate each other. or not really, because it's too definite to say something as such when a few hours could change the meaning of until the end of time.
warnings/tags: enemies to lovers, sexual tension, very inappropriate behavior for the 1810s, colin bridgerton being a little shit, two people who hate each other locked in a room, what could possibly go wrong?, nude paintings, implied smut, song: sunlight (hozier)
word count: 3.2K
❁ mila's paracosm (main masterlist)
One thing about Benedict Bridgerton is how you could ruin even the best of days for him.
One thing about you is how much you loved to make him mad and see the frustration on his face.
Another thing about Benedict Bridgerton is how pathetically obsessed he was with insulting you in any chance he gets.
Another thing about you is how you were willing to do absolutely anything to bother him or tease him.
You acted like children: always arguing, always making fun of each other, always making everyone at Bridgerton House completely insane with your bickering the entire day.
One thing was having to see your enemy often. One way worse was living under the same roof.
Eleven years ago, your parents had an accident, and you have lived with the Bridgertons ever since, as your mother was Violet Bridgerton's best friend since childhood.
Devastated for years, you accompanied the Bridgertons in their grief for Edmund, which was what ultimately gave you strength to go on with your life. All of you.
But that was the very same thing that ignited your rivalry with the second Bridgerton: your enthusiasm would collide with his mourning and harsh words coming out of his mouth you had no will to tolerate.
It began with his insults to you, though you knew he didn't mean to be rude, and it was all his grief doing the talk. When you couldn't tolerate it anymore, you started insulting him back.
Then, Benedict would play pranks that went too far, and you would burn his sketches in the chimney.
Benedict started sabotaging any chance you could get to find a suitor and you would spread silly rumors about his performance in the bedroom with his friends from the Academy.
Thanks to his efforts, not even being named Diamond of the Season was enough for you to find a husband, which was already making you feel like a failure, not to mention a burden to the Bridgertons. Benedict's fault also.
“Anthony, has he come back?”
He gave you a pitiful look. “I am sorry, Y/N, but I spoke to Lord Raeken to ask him his intentions, and he said he was not interested in marrying you.”
“What?” You gasped. “But everything was going so well! He- he invited us for dinner last week! His mother and Aunt Violet befriended each other even!”
“You will not like what I am going to say.” Anthony anticipated, and you already knew whose fault it was.
“It was Benedict?! Again?!”
Anthony nodded. “I talked to him… It was a threat. He said he would fix it, and I promise you that Lord Raeken will propose to you. If not, he is not worthy of you, and that is all.”
“Nobody is worthy of me, then? He… ruined it with the Duke of Sussex, with Lord Leclerc, with the Count-, I… Why does he keep doing this, Anthony?” You whimpered. You didn't even notice when you started crying, but before anything happened, he hugged you tightly. “Has he not tormented me enough already?”
The eldest Bridgerton knew all too well of your inner motives to hate each other, but decided not to meddle in your war anymore unless it was a case as delicate as this.
“Promise me you will not ruin his latest painting, Y/N,” he begged. “I am trying to work on a peace accord between the two of you, so as long as you stop doing things to him, he will stop messing with you.”
You sighed. “If I do not marry this season, I will have no other choice but to find a job as a governess.”
“Why do you even say that?” He frowned.
“Because it has been eleven years of you sponsoring me, and I believe that it is too much time.”
“You think you are a burden for us?” Anthony asked, and your silence answered. “The day you leave us will be one of the saddest for us Bridgertons, Y/N. You are like our sister, and we love you and care about you as such. Perhaps it has not worked before, but do you really believe that a man that loves you will let none other than Benedict intimidate him?”
“Gregory is more threatening than him,” you noted. “And those dimples could melt the coldest of hearts!”
Anthony smiled. “Do not think too much of it. We shall find you a husband before the season ends.”
“Alright.”
“Now go, I believe Colin is expecting you, and I have many things to do.”
“Sure thing.” you replied.
Once you were out of his office, you gathered the baby blue skirt and ran to Benedict's studio. There, you saw the painting Anthony begged you not to ruin.
It was a woman's naked figure, quite a graceful one. And it was beautifully portrayed.
It would be a shame for it to be ruined. Thank God you did not promise Anthony a thing.
It was still wet, so it was not difficult to use other colors and mix them with the paint so it would look different. You also spilled droplets of red and signed your name on the painting where he had his.
Then, you cleaned your hands and ran to the door.
“Colin!” you exclaimed, and he turned around. “We are going to find Benedict right now.”
He frowned, annoyed. “What happened now?”
“Lord Raeken won't marry me for something Benedict did. Now I must speak to him.”
“It is getting late. We will not get to the tailor in time if we go to Benedict first.”
“Please?” You begged Colin. “I can get on my knees if you wish, but please…”
Colin rolled his eyes. “Alright, let's- oh, there he is!”
You looked in the same direction as him and noticed Benedict getting home. He seemed mad, and your face lost all its life when you thought of what could happen when he saw his painting ruined by you.
“Let's get out of here, Colin…” you muttered once Benedict passed you without even saying hello.
“Why? Benedict is here if you wish to talk to him.”
“It might not be a great time right now…”
“Why?”
“Y/N, I swear to God!”
“Because…” You gave Colin a sheepish look at Benedict's scream.
“What did you do?”
“He started it!”
Colin rolled his eyes. “Did you-”
“Come inside right now!” Benedict yelled once he reached the door. “I am dead serious.”
You sighed, walking next to Colin. “He is going to kill me, Colin.”
“You do not know that.”
“I did something bad.”
“So did he.”
You pursed your lips. “Tell Daphne that only Francesca is a good fit to replace me as Auggie's godmother once I die.”
“Do not say that.”
“What on Earth were you thinking?!”
“What on Earth were you thinking?!” You mimicked him, anger coming to surface again as you reached his studio.
“This was an assignment for tomorrow morning!”
“Well, Lord Raeken was my whole future, Benedict!” you yelled back.
“Look at it! It is ruined!”
Colin was annoyed enough of your fights, and seeing the keys was enough for him to know there was only one solution.
So he did it and thought that you would either kill each other or make amends.
The third Bridgerton exited the room quietly and thanked your bickering for being distracting enough so you did not notice when he closed the door and locked it from outside.
“What are you doing?” Anthony asked when he saw Colin lock the door.
“Forcing those two to reconcile.”
The eldest brother chuckled. “Best of luck with that.”
“I know they will get over it,” he said, sitting on the floor next to the door. “I shall stay here even if it takes me the whole night.”
Anthony joined him. “This should be fun.”
“I do not care if it is ruined, Benedict… you can ruin my future but you draw a line at ruined paintings?!”
“Do you not know how important my career is for me?! You can find another suitor anytime!”
You groaned. “This is my third season, and I have not found a husband! I was the Diamond of my first Season, Benedict! And you have been ruining all of them for me!”
“I have not ruined anything. They simply are not a good fit for the family!”
“I am done listening to you.” You walked away from him and tried, in vain, to open the door.
After looking around, you noticed Colin was supposed to be in the room with you but he wasn't.
“Colin Bridgerton, open this door right now!” You banged the door, making him flinch. “Someone, open the door! We are locked in here!”
Benedict believed you simply weren't strong enough to open it, so he joined you trying to open it but couldn't while his brothers hid their laughter. He looked for the keys but couldn't find them either.
“Colin must have taken the keys,” he noted.
You sighed tiredly. “Somebody open the door! Please, we are trapped!”
“Open the door! Colin!”
“They will not let us out.” you told him.
“Perhaps we should just say we made amends and they will open the door.”
“Do you think he is an idiot? Only a fool would believe you and I could reach an agreement overnight, let alone the ten minutes we have been here.”
He groaned, giving up on escaping the room and returning to the conflict. “How are you so blind, Y/N? How can you fail to see that they are not right for the family?”
“I beg your pardon?! You do not even know them!”
“Is that so?” he questioned, getting closer to you. “Lord Leclerc, a widower who had lovers left and right while his late wife was terribly ill, the Duke of Sussex is a dull rat, and the Count had three illegitimate children by the time he set foot on Mayfair. They are not good people for us.”
“If that is what worries you so, I can leave forever after I marry!”
“Do you truly think this family will survive a week without seeing you? Mother is devastated at Daphne's absence… yours would kill her.”
You rolled your eyes. “We are not even a real family, are we? I am not related to you, I am a mere burden, so why do you not take any of them as your chance to get rid of me?”
“I did not mean that. Stop bringing it to the table each time it suits your purpose to manipulate me.”
“I could seriously kill you with my bare hands right now, Benedict…” you spoke, outraged. “What is it that I did for you to hate me so much?!”
“It is not worth talking about that now.”
“Why are you like this with me, Benedict? At this point, I would marry just about any man who could take me away from you.”
His heart skipped a beat. “We can't just let you marry anyone, alright?”
“Why do you even care?!”
“Because I cannot let you go with someone I do not trust…”
“What will it even take for you to trust any of them?”
“I could never trust them, Y/N, because I can't trust in someone who does not love you devotedly and absolutely.”
Your lips formed a line of disdain at his words. “How would you even know they don't if you do not give them the chance to truly get to me?”
“Because no one does.”
“Wow,” you laughed bitterly. “Thanks for reminding me how unlovable I am.”
“You do not understand, Y/N.”
“Explain it to me, then!” You asked, you begged him.
“No one does it like I do, my goodness!” he screamed, and you were sure it echoed through the whole floor.
You choked on your own spit at his confession, and at the other side of the door, Colin and Anthony looked at each other completely flabbergasted.
“We should leave.” Anthony whispered. “Unlock the door.”
Colin nodded. “I agree, we should let them out.”
Anthony nodded and left, but Colin was determined.
He certainly did not unlock the door.
“What?” you asked in almost a whisper.
Benedict seemed surprised at his own words, as if he had spoken from ignorance because… it couldn't be real, could it? He couldn't be in love with you.
“I…”
“Benedict…”
“You are my family,” he ‘corrected’ himself. “Conflict in families is not uncommon. It is fine. I care about you, and I… we do not want you to be the wife of a man that does not deserve you, Y/N. You are sunlight, and they are nothing but a gray sky.”
You breathed out shakily, looking at his blue eyes deeply, feeling like you had never seen such blue in your entire life. “I am sorry about your painting.”
“It is alright, I will try to fix it; maybe if Colin lets us out, I can go back to the Academy before it is too late. Find a model-”
“Is that what you need? A model?”
Benedict cleared his throat, guessing where it was going, though scared of it. “Yes, but it should not be difficult to find one at the Academy.”
“We will not be let out,” you reminded him and gave it all a careful thought.
You were aware it wasn't right. He was a man, and you were a woman who was not married to him. He must not see you naked under any circumstances, but again… he saved you from those men who weren't worth it, and you paid him by ruining his artwork. It was not fair, so you owed him.
You could break the rules a little. After all, you were locked in a room for God only knows how long.
So you nodded and started undressing. “I could model for you if that is what you need.”
“What? Do not, I-”
“What is the difference between that woman and I?”
Benedict's brain told him to stop you. It was definitely not right for a lady like you to be seen naked before marriage. Worse than that, be painted.
“Y/N…”
“Am I not interesting enough to paint, Benedict?” you questioned as your dress reached the floor. “I just wish to make up for what I did.”
You started undoing your corset under his careful eyes.
“If what worries you is my identity, I believe you could use the other model's face,” you added once the corset was discarded and your bosom fully exposed to him. “It is intact in your painting.”
“I am afraid your grace cannot be compared.”
You exhaled nervously when your shaking hands reached the beginning of your underpants. “Then make justice to it.”
Finally, you stood completely naked before him and didn't dare to be modest about it.
“Paint me.”
You walked to the couch and laid in a similar position as the model in his painting.
“I cannot ask that of you.” He tried one last time, gathering all the strength in his body… You were a lady, and he was a gentleman; no matter how rare that would be of him to stop you. It was not right, but what a sight he had before him.
“Then it is good that I offered.” you refuted.
He doubted for longer than he is willing to admit, but ultimately approached you with hesitant steps.
“Allow me,” he whispered as he reached you. You nodded, and he accommodated your head so you would be looking up at the ceiling and your hands to cover what could be seen of your face to his art's convenience delicately. His touch, hot, caused goosebumps on your skin. A gasp left your lips. “You truly are beautiful.”
“Thank you.” you mumbled.
Benedict returned to the canvas, telling himself he could do this.
He shouldn't.
But if your face wouldn't be seen, it would do no harm. Only you and him would know it's you.
A few hours had passed and the night had fallen. It was difficult to paint with the growing darkness hiding your features, so he left his piece for a second to find some candles.
Before he returned to the canvas, you spoke. “Am I doing it well?”
“You certainly are,” he praised you. “A natural indeed.”
You had goosebumps once again.
What is wrong with me?, you asked yourself.
How could Benedict, of all people, make you feel like this? How could he control the speed of your heartbeat with mere words? How could he turn your skin into a burning mess that acted as if it was freezing? How could he make your hands sweat each time he got closer? How could he make you forget how much you despised him after he said he loved you?
How did he love you? He said you were family, but he did not dare to call you a sister like his siblings always do. No, this was a different kind of love: the kind of love you read about in the romance novels you have stolen from his library, because that is the way you were feeling near his presence, under his stare, at his touch.
“Come here,” you commanded long before you thought what you would say. He complied, flying to you like a moth to a flame, but you were sunlight: billions of times more powerful, and you could consume him long before he dared to reach you. He felt like a moth with wigs made of wax, melting with each step that brought him close to you. Gladly. “How do you love me, Benedict?”
“What?”
It was unbelievable that a man of words like him could act so clueless, but there he was. Oblivious to your passion, not to mention his.
“I have always been your Mama's daughter and your brothers and sisters' sister. But I have never been yours,” you mentioned. “Why, if you love me so?”
“Y/N…” His hand caressed your face, and you took the other to put it on your left breast where he could feel your heart beating.
“Kiss me if what my beating heart says about your love is true.” It was an order, and that heart of yours was certainly right.
And right then, he knew he was careless of his own insignificance. He would fly as high as the melting wax allowed him to and fall as deep into the ocean as his own weight imposed.
He could drown and disappear, live and die for this moment. For all the frustration that has haunted him all those years of loathing and yearning. For his sunlight, for you.
He kissed you, and you returned the kiss as if your lips had ever touched others before.
They haven't.
They shouldn't.
But they are now.
It was an angry kiss. Wet, carnal, breathless, hot, feral, everything.
His lips did not caress yours or danced with yours, no; they fought and devoured yours, and you gave in.
It was exquisite but depraved in a way you couldn't bring yourself to explain, and you absolutely loved it.
Once the kiss ended, you were the first to talk. “Take it all off.”
He breathed out, nerves he does not recall to have ever felt scared his determination away.
He felt as pathetic as those men he threatened to ruin if they were to set foot in the same room as you ever again, and he took off his clothes with the urgency of a task set by the scary educator of his childhood.
You looked at him, took it all in, and gave him space to lay beside you.
“It's just us, Benedict…” you let out, your breath blending with his. “You can love me now.”
His cue.
#benedict bridgerton#bridgerton fanfiction#benedict bridgerton x reader#bridgerton#benedict bridgerton fanfiction#benedict bridgerton x you#benedict bridgerton smut#benedict bridgerton imagine#bridgerton imagine
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❤️ HAPPY 5TH YEAR WEDDING ANNIVERSARY TO THE DUKE AND DUCHESS OF SUSSEX! ❤️
(may 19, 2018 - may 19, 2023) Today marks the 5th wedding anniversary of The Duke and Duchess of Sussex who got married at the St. George chapel in Windsor.
“I appreciate, respect and honor you, my treasure, for the family we will create, and our love story that will last forever.”— Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex. Extracted from The Duchess wedding's speech to her husband.
“Amazing that I could even hear the music over the sound of my own heartbeat as Meg stepped up, took my hand. The present dissolved, the past came rushing back.”— Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex. Extracted from Spare.
#meghan markle#duchess of sussex#the duchess of sussex#prince harry#duke of sussex#the duke of sussex#wedding anniversary#the duke and duchess of sussex#harry and meghan
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Benedict Bridgerton x Princess Reader
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
As you made your way through Buckingham Palace, you ran into your mother, Queen Charlotte. Being the youngest of your siblings and your mother's miracle child meant she held you dearly in her heart. But what made her anxious about today's ball was that it was going to be your first debutante ball.
Making it her personal mission to make the ball perfect meant you hadn't seen her. "Good morning, Mother," you said as you bowed elegantly. She made her way over to you and placed her hand on the bottom of your chin, lifting your delicate features.
"Y/N, just the person I was looking for. Do you like these flowers to go with today's theme or these?" She said as she pointed to two bouquets. One was filled with white roses and pink tulips, adorned with different greenery added into it. The other bouquet had white tulips but was mostly filled by baby's breath, of course with the added greenery.
"The first one is beautiful, of course, but the second one seems to grab my attention more. Especially the baby's breath, it can mean purity and innocence, what I am to be for my husband." You said to your mother.
Your mother turned to look at you, pride seeping through her features as she couldn't hold back the tears welling up in her eyes. She grabbed your hands and held them with sincerity. "I am truly proud of what you have become, and I know you will make a sensational wife and mother."
You couldn't hide your smile from her. You loved your mother very much and wished you could be just like her, a loving wife. You had to leave her so you could start getting ready for the ball and quickly make your way to your room. You had your maid, Annabeth, help you pick a dress for the ball. You both decided on a pale pink dress with embroidered flowers matching the ones in your hair.
Annabeth helped put half of your hair up, putting it into a bun while having the rest curled freely. She grabbed some flowers and put them into your hair as she grabbed your crown. It was bigger than the other debutante but still had the simplicity that captured a man's attention. Annabeth helped you with your shoes next and chose a pair of pearl earrings and a pearl necklace.
Before you leave, you remembered to bring a feathered fan, a trick your mother had shown you not too long ago. Your mother is waiting for you outside of your room with her dog, Charles, whom you had given to her not long ago. She looks at you shocked as she eyed you up and down.
Queen Charlotte slowly made her way over to you and gripped your shoulders tenderly. "You are most perfection, my dear, wonderful job on today's dress." You couldn't hold back the smile you gave her as you gave her a quick hug filled with love. She laughed out loud and reciprocated your hug and held you tighter.
You both had to wait until the guests had fully arrived and held on to each other for support. "Y/N, promise me you'll find someone who you will love and cherish with your whole existence? And that you'll visit me often!" You nodded towards her as you heard both your names being announced.
The ballroom became hushed as they announced your mother's name and then yours. The doors opened, and your mother pushed forward, pulling you with her. Both of you stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at the gentlemen and ladies. Synchronized, you both went down the stairs slowly and poised.
Once you reached the floor, your mother grabbed your hand and kissed your cheek, earning the soft awe of mothers. You decided you wanted to get a drink to quench your thirst and sipped on a lemonade.
You started to walk around, noticing the many staring young suitors around the ballroom. Being a princess ment you were in everyone's list of prominent wives. The ton also knew you would either be Duchess of Sussex or next in line for the throne after your brother George.
As you walked around the ballroom, you noticed a certain lord looking over at you. Lord Berbrooke made his way towards you, pushing anyone in his way. His eyes never left your body and smirked in a disgusting manner.
You turned around quickly and made your way across the ballroom hurriedly. Lord Berbrooke was catching up to you, but before he could reach for your wrist, you noticed a certain Bridgerton.
Benedict Bridgerton was the most handsome man you had ever seen and one of the most lovable. But you knew you couldn't be with him because of his lover, Madam Delacroix. Remembering your situation, you hurriedly made your way over to Benedict to escape Lord Berbrooke.
"Lord Bridgerton, would you do me the honor of having this dance with me?" Benedict looked taken aback but accepted your invitation, offering his arm towards you. You both made your way over to the dance floor capturing the attention of the ton.
As you both held each other, you couldn't help but feel his arm wrap around your waist softly and offer his hand for you to take. "What a surprise, Princess Y/N. I never expected you to choose me for your first dance." His eyes never leaving your own and moving gracefully to the melodic music.
"Please don't fluff your pride. I needed help with escaping a certain Lord. Lord Berbrooke tells everyone I am to be his princess and the mother of his children." You said as you rolled eyes while Benedict was chuckling to himself.
"Princess Y/N, do you wish to be a mother, or are you more concentrated on your throne?" You smiled at his question, answering diligently. "I wish to have a big family full of love and honesty. To tell you the truth, I wouldn't mind being away from the crown and living a simple life that I could enjoy. My husband shall be the most important person in my life as they will be my soul mate and lover. My purity is solely for them, and my moments shall be enjoyed with them. I wish to find a husband who is passionate about what he does while also loving me for me." You answered while your eyes looked around every couple dancing.
Benedict couldn't take his eyes off of you. You showed such grace, worthy of a princess, but expressed your wanting for a normal life. Benedict could remember all the times he had seen you with Queen Charlotte looking gorgeous. Your presence exuded a powerful leader while your very being showed a caring and kind person.
The perfect mix for the future crown princess of the Great nation.
"Lord Bridgerton, how do you feel about having a wife?" Benedict looked at you with confusion, his eyebrows scrunching together as he slightly shook his head. "I have been meaning to find one, but it seems I always get distracted with painting. But I hope to find a wife that is as loving as you."
Benedict looked down towards the shock in your face. You looked towards his gentle eyes and smiled a pure smile. "Then Lord Bridgerton, let's get married." In that moment, Benedict seized from dancing and looked at the ton that was staring back. Chills ran through his spine at the thought of marrying you. Sure, you were beautiful, kind, gentle, and admirable, but you were a princess. You didn't belong with someone like him.
"I must reject you, Princess Y/N. I only see you as a friend, not a lover." Benedicts' composure fell at the sight of a single tear falling from your eye. "What if I told you, Lord Bridgerton, that I fell in love with you from afar? Would that change anything?"
"I'm afraid I can't reciprocate your feelings, Your Highness. I just see you as a friend." Oh , how he wished he had said yes, he knew that he too had fallen in love with you from afar. He missed the feeling of your hands on him and could only stare at your retreating figure. "Lord Bridgerton, thank you for rejecting her. I truly appreciate it!" He turned around only to see Lord Berbrooke excited with a long grin in his face.
"Whatever do you mean Berbrooke?"
"Well, if it wasn't for you rejecting, I would have never had the chance of being with her. So I thank you." Berbrooke patted Benedicts shoulder walking away to go and find you. Benedicts fist wrapped tightly around itself as he looked over at you, longing in his stare.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Benedict could not think about anything other than you until he heard Francesca mention your brethothal. "Did you hear, mother? Princess Y/N is engaged to Duke Simon Hastings, it's all over Lady Wistledown." Violet rushed over her daughter and snatched the paper from her. Looking over to Daphne, she watched as her daughters heart broke, but in that moment, they heard a knock.
"Please, right now is not the time. If it is about lunch, then we -" You walked in with a sad expression on your face, smiling at the family you couldn't help but notice the lingering stare of a certain Bridgerton. "No, Lady Violet, I don't bring lunch. I wanted to explain my betrothal to Simon Hastings." You looked over at Daphne, who your mother named her diamond at her last ball.
You knew she had fallen in love with Simon and how he felt for her, too. The room fell for you to explain. Before you did, you got something from your pocket hidden in your dress. It was a box that contained a diamond necklace, which was a present from your mother. You walked over to Daphne and sat next to her, offering the box to her.
She opened it and looked at it as she gasped at the sight. "You know he's afraid of marriage." Daphne, along with the Bridgertons, looked over at you with wonder. "Daphne," you said as you grabbed her hand, "I don't think of Simon as a husband or companion. Rather, I see him as a brother. He proposed to me after he saw Nigel Berbrooke try to take advantage of me." Before you could say anything, Benedict sprung at the sound of Nigel.
"Nigel tried to come onto you? Are you sure you are okay?"
"Yes, Benedict, I am sure thank you, anyways Daphne."
"When did he try?"
"What?"
"When did he try?"
"After you rejected me at the ball my mother had for me." Violet gasped at the fact Benedict had rejected you. Violet was too busy with Daphne to notice your dancing with Benedict. But you gave them a look that said let me finish. "Daphne, I'll break off the engagement today because I know how Simon feels about you."
Daphne couldn't help but question you, "What do you mean feels about me?" You couldn't believe Daphne hadn't seen the way Simon looked at her or how he held his breath when she was not with him. "Daphne, he is utterly and truly in love with you. Use this information at your will. That necklace is called the Necklace of Soulmates, which is said to bring to you the one who's meant to be with you."
Daphne looked down at the necklace and then looked at you as she mouthed a thank you. You offered her a smile as you got up to leave the beloved Bridgerton home. Before you could leave the Bridgerton home, you heard Benedict calling your name.
You ignored him and continued your way into the carriage. Just as you were about to enter, you felt Benedict grab your wrist and pull you back towards him. He wrapped his hand around yours and placed his other on your warm cheek.
"Y/N, once you break your engagement, will Nigel keep bothering you?" Benedict had a tone of urgency to his voice. He stared deeply into your eyes, scanning them for a truthful answer.
"Lord Bridgerton, let me go right now." You said, demanding out of annoyance.
"Answer me, Y/N. Please."
"After I break my engagement, Nigel plans to propose to me. But I'll probably find another man, seeming that I am a princess. Now Benedict, I need to go prepare for tonight's ball and hopefully your sister's engagement."
"Marry me, Y/N." You stared at Benedict in shock and heard a gasp behind you. Both you and Benedict looked behind you and saw Nigel with a bouquet of lilies.
"Princess Y/N, please tell me you don't plan on being married to this baboon." You noticed that both the Bridgerton and Featherington were watching the scene. "Lord Berbrooke, this does not concern you."
"How could this not concern me, Princess Y/N? You are engaged to Duke Hastings unless you're committing adultery. In that case, Mr Bridgerton, please tell me now if she is unpure." Your mouth was left agape at the accusation.
End of Part 1
Part 2
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Sherlock fandom
The Greatest Gift
Sherlock still remembers the day like it was yesterday. The sixth day of July. He turned seven and a half years that day. And every birthday gift up until then had never come close to this marvellous surprise.
“Open your eyes, darling,” Mummy said, her voice filled with restrained excitement.
He did as she asked, but slow because he didn’t know what awaited him when his eyes were wide open. How could he have predicted that his life would change forever after that moment. He wonders if his parents knew all those years ago, that they literally gifted him his first best friend.
Sherlock opened his eyes and on the floor in front of him was a basket. Inside the basket was a dog. A living breathing dog. His dog he realised after a while. When those chocolate-brown eyes met his, Sherlock zoomed out anything but the puppy who struggled to get out of his prison.
His fur was wavy and some places curly. The colour of it was auburn. An Irish Setter.
“What will you call him?” Father prompted.
Sherlock startled, having been totally engrossed in watching the dog’s pathetic tries to get his small frame over the top of the basket.
“I get to name him?” Sherlock asked incredulously.
“Of course, Sherlock. It’s your dog,” Father told him.
“Do you like him?” his mother coaxed.
By the tone of her voice, Sherlock discerned that it wasn’t the first time she had asked the question.
“Yes,” Sherlock whispered.
“You can pick him up, you know,” his father said mirthfully. “It’s clear that he won’t be able to get out of there by himself.”
Careful, so he didn’t frighten the animal, Sherlock sat on his knees and leaned over the basket to lift the dog up. Seconds after an eager tongue licked his face and Sherlock giggled.
“It tickles!” he exclaimed.
His parents chuckled and told him he had to train the dog to obey, to teach him what was allowed and what wasn’t.
“In due course. Today you can play all you want with him,” Father assured him when Sherlock looked sceptically at his parents by the mentioning of rules.
Every morning after that, when Sherlock opened his eyes to a new day, Redbeard was there, ready to follow him wherever the day would take them. They became inseparable and Redbeard was quite obedient and didn’t need all the training and commanding his parents had mentioned. The dog was happy to follow Sherlock everywhere and if his master told him no, Redbeard refrained from doing whatever shenanigans he’d been up to at the time.
***
“Open your eyes, love,” John whispers.
Sherlock gets a sudden flashback to a certain July day almost six decades ago. Just like then, he opens his eyes slowly, and just like then he’s gobsmacked by what awaits him. At his feet, in their Sussex cottage, is a basket with an English Cocker Spaniel, red in colour, inside, looking expectantly up at Sherlock.
“John.”
It’s all Sherlock’s capable of uttering. In a fluid motion, unsuitable for his age, Sherlock seats himself on the floor beside the basket and stretches out his arms. The puppy comes eagerly and just like Redbeard did all those years ago, licks Sherlock’s face with fervour.
“Easy, my sweet,” Sherlock coos burying his hands in the soft and curly fur.
He looks over at his husband who’s seated himself beside Sherlock, with a bit more effort.
“The kiss will have to wait, I’m afraid,” Sherlock says, his face still damp from the greeting.
John chuckles.
“You always make it up to me. Do you like her?”
“Oh, yes, John. She’s adorable. How did you keep this a secret?”
“A puzzle you can figure out later, my heart,” John teases. “What will you name her?”
“Hudders, would be appropriate, but I’m afraid our former landlady’s ghost would hunt me for eternity if I did. Hm…how about Queenie?”
“Perfect,” John agrees. “One drama queen and one…what role would she…”
“John!” Sherlock exclaims affronted, which makes the puppy bark.
“Ah, I see…she’ll be your protector,” John quips.
“Mm. I guess one more couldn’t hurt,” Sherlock ponders.
“Agreed,” John says emphatically. “Now, let’s get up and you can wash that beautiful face of yours so I can get that kiss you promised me.”
@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @safedistancefrombeingsmart @phoenix27884 @gregorovitch-adler @a-victorian-girl @topsyturvy-turtely @peanitbear @raina-at @helloliriels @7-percent @ninasnakie
#flash fiction friday#sherlock fandom#sherlock#john watson#johnlock#bbc sherlock#sherlock fanfic#FFF249#open your eyes
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Doting Husbands is complete! Read Chapter 5 HERE.
Resolution: more cases, more cake, more kisses. 💕
Thank you all for reading and reblogging! I've enjoyed sharing this story and am sorry to see it end. But I can also envision more mysteries for our Sussex Husbands to solve. 👀 🔍 (While I'm gathering ideas, you can subscribe to the series if you'd like to read more!)
@peanitbear @mydogwatson @chinike @lisbeth-kk @ninasnakie @lhrinchelsea @sentimentalfuturist @totallysilvergirl. @keirgreeneyes @grace-in-the-wilderness @inevitably-johnlocked @iamjustreading @raina-at @kettykika78 @grace-in-the-wilderness
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The Telegraph:
(…) Parts of the media have said lately that, with two key members seriously ill, the Royal family is in crisis. It isn’t. However, it is overstretched, and the Prince of Wales, with his father’s counsel and the practical help of his stepmother, aunt and uncle must take a lead in managing that overstretch. The timing is beyond unfortunate; the pressures of his day job may force him to take on more than he would wish just when his wife and children need him. However, the Princess’s family, especially her parents to whom she is exceptionally close, will doubtless step in to support her while he gets on with managing the demands on him as heir to the throne.
Other families afflicted by illness do not have to manage such a high-profile and demanding life, but they manage nonetheless. So too will the Prince of Wales.
The public, too, must adjust its expectations of what it gets from the Royal family. With the Sussexes off the map, and the Duke of York in disgrace, and his own blameless daughters currently non-playing members of the family (something the King and the Prince of Wales perhaps should review, given the good opinions of Princesses Beatrice and Eugenie), appearances and the acceptance of patronages may have to be scaled down.
We know the King is getting on with work during his own treatment, and his condition is happily far from preventing him from maintaining the strategic guidance of The Firm: but it was also known, before his illness, that he consulted his heir frequently and in detail on how the Royal family should work. Despite his own illness, the King will do all he can to support his son during this time of trial; but Prince William cannot but be more concerned with his family’s strategic direction and day-to-day management while his father recovers. Luckily, senior courtiers are of a sufficient degree of dedication and expertise to ensure the ship keeps sailing, but it cannot do so without the visible presence of senior members of the crew.
There is one aspect of recent events that, according to those close to the Court, has had an effect on the Prince of Wales and is likely to shape how he, and the Princess, go about their public lives in future. The tabloid media’s treatment of the Princess since her surgery has, with good reason, upset a significant proportion of the British public, and insiders say it has upset her and her husband. It is not just social media trolls who have had a field day with her illness, indulging in unkindness and downright cruelty.
The welter of invention and trivia that can be shrugged off in good times is deeply upsetting in adversity. Despite her having been married for 13 years the Princess is still referred to by some as “Kate Middleton”, as though she is some sort of imposter; and speculation about her condition is repellently tasteless.
However, it turns out that the soap opera about the Princess of Wales in certain parts of the media has starred a young woman with a serious illness; as such, these exploitations take on a new, deeply unattractive, dimension.
The ridiculous hysteria over the harmlessly ‘doctored’ photographs – with so-called ‘royal experts’ cluttering the airwaves and filling acres of tabloid newspapers complaining pompously about ‘breach of trust’ and other supposedly dire offences – now appears even more shameful than it did at the time. This will not be forgotten, either by the Royal family or much of the public.
Now his wife’s illness is public knowledge, the Prince of Wales enters this next phase of his life not only with heavy burdens, but with massive public sympathy and fellow-feeling. That, too, is because we all understand the demands of family life, and in that respect he, the Princess and their children are no different from the rest of us. He has the steel to come through it, as so many families faced with such trials do.
His wife more than amply demonstrated her bravery and determination in her moving and deeply impressive address broadcast last Friday. Even if only for a moment, we had better stop treating Prince William and his family as a soap opera. They are experiencing the sharp end of life, as at some point we all do. We would do best to afford them the privacy they seek, need and deserve.
The full article
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I think Meghan’s frustrated because her level has some pretty popular people already. It’s crowded. To be honest I think the Gaines have a large % followed by a few other target brands. She’d rather be a target brand not a tjmaxx because tjmaxx buys left over inventory that doesn’t sell. Target is still affordable and I think those in her circle are far more willingly to say they go to target than Walmart to tjmaxx. That’s what bothers her.
I also don’t think she was prepared to launch when she did. It was a quick rash reaction that felt more like turning lover an “I’m open for business sign” than anything else. Her ego got the best of her .
Yep, that's the other pitfall of being so focused on immediate gratification: you have beer goggles on. You don't see your competitors for who they really are - you only see what they have that you don't or their flaws that you think you can do better.
If Meghan really cared about Roop, she'd have paid attention to the market research that her partners (and yes, she has partners, even if no one will admit it) and WME did. That market research would have told her exactly who her competitors are, that she has one shot to get this right, and precisely what shot to take and when to take it.
And let's be honest. Her competitors aren't Gwyneth Paltrow (Goop), Reese Witherspoon (Kohls), and Martha Stewart (Macys, Penneys, and Amazon). They aren't even the Gaines/Magnolia (Target), Pioneer Woman (Walmart), and Rae Dunn (TJ Maxx/HomeGoods).
Her competitors are all the other socialites out there launching their own wellness and lifestyle brands. Bravolebrities. Tiktokers. Instagram influencers. People who have such a niche fanbase from 5 minutes in the spotlight with print-on-demand merch. In effect, personality-driven brands that lack substance.
And those brands don't usually do well, because they always overshoot their market and target the wrong audience. There's nothing wrong with being a TJX brand or a department store brand or a "Middle America" brand. Plenty of people have made really good fortunes and livings from it, but only because they were realistic and clear about their expectations and knew it would take time to get the empire they wanted.
And since anon mentioned The Gaines, I have a feeling that's who Meghan intends to come after. They're in Texas (where the Sussexes have been spending time). Tall, leggy, thick-bouncy-dark brown/black hair-for-days, biracial homemaker guru wife with a doofus goofy ginger husband. Their brand (Magnolia Home) is a kind of rustic, vintage, comfort memory that ARO/Roop's video mimicked. They've got that kind of ordinary everyday Americanness that (kind of) competes with William and Kate's kind of ordinary everyday Britishness that Meghan couldn't break.
But here's the thing about Chip and Joanna. They didn't just pop up out of nowhere. I know it feels like they did, but they didn't. They put 10 years of blood and sweat equity into the Waco (Texas) home construction and design world before HGTV even knew that they existed. What has Meghan done that's even comparable? Sure, she got her own doofus ginger but that's it. That's where the comparisons end. And honestly there's no comparison between Chip and Harry either, because Chip comes out ahead by a million points by just being able to replace his own burnt-out lightbulb.
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Eco Warrior Duchess Sussex merching winter gear like an idiot by u/Lensgoggler
Eco Warrior Duchess Sussex merching winter gear like an idiot
So, I live in a country that gets cold. Very cold sometimes. Similar to Canada.And I own one puffy coat. ONE. I bought it 5 years ago. Most people here do not own many of similar function coats - and I assume it's true for Canada. Nobody owns 3 new identical coats simultaneously. Why? Because these are fucking expensive, and buying many is just plain stupid and pretentious. We also don't tend to own that many identical thickness new hats, gloves and boots. Same reason - expensive and pointless. When it comes to winter gear, everything has to have a function. Kids tend to have two or three sets of things because they tend to get wet and/or dirty, but not adults.Blue, boots #2Beige, boots #1 with furBlack, boots #2But Duchess Meghan, the eco warrior, with a new website and last name, wears three different new puffy coats and two pairs of similar but different boots (the beige set had boots that have fur) in three days. She also wears the coats unlike people in actual cold places (we zip them up usually, or wear a thinner one). She wears a scarf like nobody who is actually cold does - but of course, if she wore it the way it'd actually be warm, you couldn't see it... And on two other occasions she has no scarf at all, so it's not scarf weather for her? She must have an immune system of steel. To Harold's credit, he seems not not give two hoots about what he wears. Has put on Invictus puffer after getting to the event, and has a nondescript layer underneath, and a very basic hat, if any. I wonder what goes on in MM's head... "This is my husband's work thing, I'll tag along and wear all kinds of different getups because this makes me appear successful and awesome because I have sooooo many clothes and accessories!! I am such an inspiration!" I didn't list the 'Valentine's Date pap shot' because it looks like she rewears the red monstrosity from the NY trip. I wonder what happens to the coats back in warm California. Will she return them? Donate them? Rewear them? I'm pretty sure WME has got nothing to do with MM anymore. Because this is a very bad look indeed, anyone with a brain would see that. A 42 yo woman obsessed with her clothes and faffing about at an event she has nothing to do with.
post link: https://ift.tt/b4M9Swr
author: Lensgoggler
submitted: February 16, 2024 at 10:10AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit
#SaintMeghanMarkle#harry and meghan#meghan markle#prince harry#fucking grifters#Worldwide Privacy Tour#Instagram loving bitch wife#Backgrid#voetsek meghan#walmart wallis#markled#archewell#archewell foundation#megxit#duke and duchess of sussex#duke of sussex#duchess of sussex#doria ragland#rent a royal#clevr#clevr blends#lemonada media#archetypes#archetypes with meghan#invictus#invictus games#Sussex#Lensgoggler
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Proud wife.
The Duchess of Sussex happily records her husband The Duke attempting his first skelton run!
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Johnlock fics I read in 2023
This is everything I read in the Sherlock Holmes fandom last year that made it into my bookmarks. So while I may not have read enough to make a selected "best of" list, consider these the ones that made it past all my internal selection criteria and are deserving of a spotlight. A few of these were completed prior to 2023.
A Case of You by Silvergirl (17K, M, Johnlock, Sherlock/OMC)
Sherlock is marrying an American, and at the rehearsal dinner, best man John makes a drunken love confession he doesn’t remember the next day. Badly hungover, John can't find anyone to tell him what the hell happened to the wedding, where the grooms are, or how he can put it right so that Sherlock can be happy. But what if he's dead wrong about what will make Sherlock happy?
A Midnight Clear by khorazir (16K, T, Johnlock)
It’s Christmas Eve, and Sherlock is working. Because that’s what he does. He doesn’t need Christmas, or holiday cheer, or even company. He’s fine on his own, thank you very much – until a series of strange encounters on his way back to Baker Street makes him reconsider.
A Story That Is Almost, But Not Quite, Entirely Unlike Blue Carbuncle by Iwantthatcoat (16K, M, Johnlock)
It’s the most wonderful time of the year, and the Holmes Family is all set to have one of those unimaginable Christmas dinners— but the game is afoot, as Mummy’s friend is caught up in a Christmas mystery.
An Elegant Solution by ArwaMachine (19K, E, Johnlock)
Sherlock finds himself unspeakably aroused by the idea of John with another man. Problem is, the only man Sherlock will permit be with John is Sherlock himself. Seems like an unsolvable problem. ... or is it?
An Ocean Away by westernredcedar (14K, T, Johnlock)
Sherlock Holmes has been gone for twenty long years, time enough for John Watson's daughter to make it all the way to Harvard University.
Avast Ye Merry Gentlemen by StellaCartography (10K, E, Johnlock)
Sherlock is not a Christmas person. John decides it's Christmas that needs changing.
Bright Blue Ink by 13_33 (13K, G, Johnlock, Warstan)
When one of my patients asks me about my relationship with Sherlock Holmes, the great detective, I answer this: I am his chronicler, his assistant in solving crimes, his confidant and friend. Of course, all these terms hold true, now as then, at the beginning of our shared history. But just as in a family portrait you can only see the put-on smiles and never the real faces of the people, they were only part of what made up my true relationship with Holmes. I know him, I then add; I know him well. [ACD]
Deductive Reasoning by cormorant (8K, T, Johnlock)
John finds out that Sherlock has assumed for a while that their relationship was romantic, and feels like maybe he should have been notified about that.
Doting Husbands by Calais_Reno (16K, M, Johnlock)
Sherlock takes on a new hobby: writing a story. If only something would happen! Takes place a year after the ending of Wooing Sherlock Holmes. He and John have been married for a year, still retired, living in Sussex.
Full Mount by ArwaMachine (54K, E, Johnlock)
After Sherlock unceremoniously returns from the dead, John finds himself inexplicably angry all the time. So he does what any emotionally-constipated British man does: he joins a Mixed Martial Arts gym. As John throws himself into the sport and joins in on underground no-holds-barred brawls, situations arise that just might force John to face what is really going on underneath all the rage.
Indefinite Lines by ArwaMachine (298K, E, Johnlock)
When two lines, inclined towards each other, are extended indefinitely, it is inevitable that they meet. Upon meeting, the lines become something new. Together. Perhaps it’s been like that from the beginning for Sherlock and John—their lives weaving together, inclined towards one another, moving closer and closer to something greater than themselves.
Live from the Morgue by disfictional (8K, E, Johnlock)
Molly interviews Sherlock on her podcast, Live from the Morgue. John listens.
Lost In A Good Book by khorazir (68K, M, Johnlock)
After chasing a criminal into a poky second-hand bookshop, John and Sherlock find themselves not only stuck in the building, but in L-space itself. With things still raw and unsettled between them after the events surrounding the Culverton Smith case, this adds another dimension to their predicament, which not only consists of finding a way out of the shop (while avoiding getting murdered by the criminal), but also to finally address the issues between them.
Nightjet by khorazir (22K, M, Johnlock)
Officially deceased for eighteen months and still looking for the last remainders of Moriarty’s criminal empire, an exhausted Sherlock boards a night train in Germany to bring him to his next hunting ground. Due to a mishap with the sleeper cars, he is forced to share a compartment with a stranger – who turns out to be not quite as strange as Sherlock thought. The universe isn’t lazy, after all …
Nothing to Celebrate by DiscordantWords (30K, M, Johnlock, Warstan)
Sherlock Holmes is back from the dead. Things only get worse from there.
Our Ghosts And This by LipstickDaddy (12K, T, Johnlock)
An epilogue in three acts.
Primavera by Berty (9K, T, Johnlock)
Italy in the springtime is as romantic as it gets but is it enough to free unspoken words and feelings after years of silence?
Salut d'Amour by ecoutes (11K, G, Johnlock)
Despite Holmes claiming that my narrations of our cases were tainted with sentimentality, his preferences in music, I learned, were awfully romantic. [ACD]
Spare Parts by Raina_at (63K, E, Johnlock)
Two years ago, Sherlock Holmes jumped off the roof of New London Hospital. Two months ago, he walked into John's clinic as if no time had passed at all. John hasn't seen him since. But then Sherlock knocks on John's door with a case he can't say no to, and while figuring out why the biggest manufacturer or synthetic limbs in the System is going after veterans, they also need to find out whether there's a way to fix what's broken between them.
stirringofbirds between my arms by NotusLethe (18K, E, Johnlock, Enola/Tewksbury)
Over the years, John Watson gets to know his new flatmate, Sherlock Holmes, and the man's clever ward. [Enola Holmes]
Stretch by illwick (13K, E, Johnlock)
Sometimes the lines get blurry. [Part 35 of a BDSM established relationship series]
The Adventure of The Reluctant Docent by mydogwatson (23K, T, Johnlock)
Someone is killing the docents of London. Sherlock is on the case when he meets a very interesting docent.
The Case of the Freudian Dick Pic Slip by expoduck (11K, E, Johnlock)
John accidentally sends Sherlock a dick pic he'd intended for another man.
The Mystery of the Missing Metallurgist by rudbeckia (14K, M, Johnlock)
A young wife engages Holmes to find her missing husband. Lestrade thinks the man has absconded to America, but Holmes rises to the challenge of Proving Lestrade Wrong. The case turns out to be far more complex and dangerous than they first thought, and Holmes sends Watson to secure Lestrade’s help in bringing a criminal gang to justice. When Holmes gets injured, Watson realises where his heart lies and a little lighthearted banter leads to a tentative confession. [ACD]
The Silence Between the Notes by J_Baillier (44K, M, Johnlock, Viclock)
Lieutenant John Watson's days in London are painted in shades of grey after losing both his military career and his family. Could an unexpected request to travel to Vienna to track down the errant son of a wealthy family break the monotony?
The Wizard of Baker Street by Calais_Reno (23K, T, Johnlock)
In which Sherlock is a wizard under a curse and John spends a lot of time as a cat.
‘tis the damn season by chrysanthemumsies (22K, E, Johnlock)
Sherlock and John travel to Edinburgh to catch a homophobic serial killer in time for Christmas. They figure out how to use their words, more or less.
Trapezoid by SilentAuror (27K, E, Johnlock, OMC/ OMC)
Corey Graham invites John and Sherlock to visit L.A. to consult on a project… at least, officially.
Yorkshire by lurikko (8K, E, Johnlock)
They're in Yorkshire, in a house in the moors, for a case, only Sherlock keeps touching John. [Omegaverse]
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