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okay, I haven’t done a proper rec list in….a long, long while. so to make up for it, here are a few fics I’ve enjoyed in the past few days:
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This is my Valentine’s day gift to you, tumblr. something soppy and sweet and cute. or at least I hope you think it is. if not then whelp I failed.
special thank-you shoutout to my bb Skara, my lovely presh squid who scribbles all over my google doc with green crayon and tells me when I should and should not say the word “cock.”
This Isn’t Because It’s Valentine’s Day (x)
(Sherlock/John, mature, 2,300~ words)
They had agreed not to celebrate Valentine’s Day. It was a foolish holiday created by card companies and pushed by candy stores and it was all about consumerism and guilt and spending. And besides, they knew that they loved each other; they didn’t have to make grand demonstrations at an arbitrarily-appointed day every year.
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idk, basically I’ve been dying of boredom for the past day + 21hours, and so…this happened?
I saw a prompt over at the kink meme that requested “John rubbing Sherlock to completion in the back of a cab.” and that. is my kink. so…
untitled because I couldn’t think of one and it’s short pwp so who cares
(Sherlock/John, explicit, 750~ words)
John doesn’t notice it at first. He’s too busy following as Sherlock sweeps away from the crime scene in a triumphant flourish. Sherlock can’t keep that smug grin off his face, and John can practically taste the adrenaline emanating from him in waves.
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thought I’d re-post this because it is relevant on this most glorious of days~~ …okay, I know it’s not really the 29th anymore (in my time zone, anyway) but SHHHH. it’s the 29th until I go to bed. I was going to make a cake to celebrate. but then I didn’t. so.
John Watson walks into the lab at St. Bart’s, and Sherlock thinks “Oh. …No.”
Feelings that have been dormant for most of his adult life shift. The whole room is quiet and he can feel the marrow in his bones. He hears “bit different from my day,” and he wishes he could trap the sound of that voice in his ears. If anyone were as observant as Sherlock, they would notice that his blink lasts just a bit longer than usual.
For a moment, Sherlock thinks that he has become ill. His skin feels prickly and his heart beats faster and then he feels a deep and sudden longing, and he realizes what these feelings are. For many long years, he thought he was incapable of this.
Sherlock doesn’t believe in premonitions. Of course he doesn’t, that would be ridiculous. And for that reason, he can’t explain how he knows beyond the shadow of a doubt that this man is essential to his future. That without this stranger, Sherlock’s life is incomplete.
(Sherlock also doesn’t believe in love at first sight. But…well.)
Sherlock barely knows what he is doing, but he asks for Mike’s phone while he struggles to remember a detail about the case that he is working on, and he has never, never forgotten a detail like that before. He blames it on the air, because the air feels thinner, and Sherlock can’t seem to get enough of it into his lungs, and surely that can’t be his fault.
The stranger offers Sherlock his phone, and Sherlock remembers the detail just in time. He straightens his posture and takes a few steps forward and then they are in front of each other and their hands are millimetres away and he can almost feel the body heat between them. He glances up and they make eye contact and Sherlock thinks that he may have a heart condition.
He panics, and he decides to show off.
He decides to show off because it’s what he does. Because it makes him feel more like himself and it comforts him to know that he is still somewhat in control of his mind. Molly walks in and interrupts and alright, maybe Sherlock knows he is being a bit rude, but if she only knew what she was standing in the middle of, then she would understand. Wouldn’t she?
“How do you feel about the violin?”
Sherlock starts asking questions because he wants to know that this will not end before it has even begun. The strength of his desire to keep this man, to keep this John, is overwhelming. The need for him is pressing in on Sherlock’s lungs. It’s a physical ache. A series of symptoms. It’s dyspnoea and cardiac arrhythmia and myocarditis. It’s a medical condition. It must be.
(He mentions the flat.)
Sherlock shows off some more to prove something to himself. He speaks quickly partially because he always speaks quickly, but also because he can’t control the way the words tumble from his mouth. He winks, and then kicks himself for winking, because really? Really?
Sherlock leaves the lab. He gets halfway down the hall before he guesses the passcode to the staff toilet, and locks himself in. He needs air and water and space. In the span of five minutes, the entire world has shifted. Everything (everything) has changed.
(Down the hall, still in the lab, John Watson leans on his cane and stares at the door and thinks “Oh. …No.”)
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Of all of the professions John believed his skills as an army doctor could transfer to, Assistant Manager of one London’s most successful and well known sex shops was not one of them.
(Sherlock/John, mature, 24,609 words - WIP)
Okay, I’ve been meaning to rec this one for awhile. But be forewarned—it is a WIP. Updates are not on a regular schedule, but do come semi-frequently.
Okay, so. This is a sex shop AU. STOP LAUGHING. It’s really good! Sherlock owns a sex shop, and John becomes his assistant manager when he gets out of the army. All of our beloved characters are present, and the fic is just…so much fun. And funny! Sherlock and John are great bros, and there’s a healthy bit of pining for something more…oh man, the last update. Oh, mannnnnn.
Note that while it is rated mature, at this point this is just because of the whole sex-shop thing. There’s lots of talk about sex, but there’s nothing explicit…yet. This fic isn’t all sex-sex-sex, despite what the premise may lead you to believe. It’s kind of like a sitcom…a really good one with conflict and character development and a well fleshed-out setting and lots of moments that make you want to yell at everyone to just stop being stupid and make out already. You know. As you do.
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[containing gifts (one in particular) and a truly ridiculous amount of fluff]
John woke on Christmas morning to a long, low rumble of thunder and the feeling of Sherlock’s mouth sucking at his collarbone. He opened his eyes as he listened to the rain come to a slow stop against the window.
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[containing bedsheets and clinging]
It was as if being on his own for so long had starved Sherlock of human contact. Every night when they went to bed, he would fall asleep lying on his side and would gradually shift closer to John until, by morning, their limbs were tangled together, and Sherlock was lying half on-top of John’s body. There was no way around it. Sherlock liked to cling.
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“I’m here to collect your debt.”
For a Price, by ObsidianEmbrace
(Sherlock/John, mature, 19,268 words)
John gets injured on a case—very, very injured—and Sherlock begs for John’s life to whomever is listening. Turns out, someone was listening. And when John makes it through, Sherlock has to pay up.
This is an established-relationship fic with a very believable and somewhat rocky Sherlock/John relationship. There’s a lot of doubt and fear, but it’s held together with a clearly quite strong bond of love.
There were a lot of very tense moments in this fic. Especially the conversations with the…ehm, mysterious stranger. I don’t want to say too much for fear of ruining it, but. Oh, it was good.
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I don’t even know where this list came from, but…these are fics I mentally refer to as “little knife wounds.” They’re very short fics that pack a very powerful angst-punch. They’ll cut you deep, tumblr. Proceed with caution.
“Why do you do this?” she asks softly, though in the silence between them it sounds almost a shout.
He stops in mid-motion, half-bent over his own knee, his fingers threaded through the laces. “You know why, Mary.”
Surrogate, by aelangreenleaf
(Sherlock/Mary, Sherlock/John, John/Mary, mature, 1,300 words)
*Major character death warning!* I know. I know. I know. Why did I read this. Why did I insist on reading this and tearing my heart out of my chest. Why. Why. Why.
Okay, so this is sort of het? But also not really? Basically, Sherlock has sex with John’s wife Mary and…um…well. I think you can deduce from the synopsis why he does it.
“Sherlock, I’m not—I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”
Untitled Unrequited Love Fill, by anonymous
(Sherlock/John, general audiences, 530 words)
Written for a kink meme prompt requesting Sherlock confessing his feelings to John, not realizing that John really is straight. ….Oh. My heart.
I don’t know why I read unrequited love fics, because I cannot even handle them. And can I just say:
That last line. That last line. That last line.
Sherlock needed someone, needed physical intimacy that he had denied himself for years simply because he trusted no one.He trusted John.
Untitled Desperate!Sherlock Fill, by anonymous
(Sherlock/John, mature, 820 words)
For a kink meme prompt requesting a desperate, fully-clothed Sherlock rutting against John…which sounds like porny funtiems, but…oh, it’s not. I mean, I think so at first, but then I finish reading it and start sobbing. And continue sobbing for the rest of my life. So. Not…really…funtiems.
Hmm. Time to break out the tissues. Care for some fluff?
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Sherlock had… bought him a jumper. As a present. For murdering someone.
Five Times a Jumper was Ugly, and One Time It was Hideous, by jezebelgldstn
(Sherlock/John, teen(?), 5,000~ words)
This was written for a kink meme prompt requesting: “John keeps receiving lots of ugly jumpers from Sherlock as presents, for birthday, Xmas etc. John wears them regardless.” It’s humor and it’s fluff and man, I laughed out loud multiple times while reading this fic. I really want someone to draw fanart for it so I can see these amazingly awful jumpers.
I love each of the events that lead to Sherlock bestowing John with a gift. They were super sweet, yet also super Sherlockian. I love how hard Sherlock tries, I love the fact that John has a shirt rotation, and I love the reveal at the end. Ugh, perf.
His first impulse was his red button-down, before he realized it would make him look like a giant bloody stool. He grabbed a green button-down instead, hoping the color would make the jumper look less like shit and more like a tree.
Can we just talk about those lines. Can we just. Talk. About those lines.
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[containing wine and bees]
day 22 / day 24
Sherlock didn’t seem overly enthusiastic when a client gave him an expensive bottle of wine as a thank-you gift. He knew it was more a display of the client’s wealth than a show of gratitude, and thus he accepted the bottle with a slight eye-roll when the client wasn’t looking.
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[containing food, a flame, and a fire extinguisher]
For whatever reason, the cold weather was causing John to crave marshmallows and chocolate, and really, there was only one thing to do about that. He bought a bag of marshmallows and some inexpensive chocolate bars and went through Regent’s Park on his way home so that he could snap off a couple of thin tree branches.
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