So, I’m super disappointed that I didn’t manage to finish my current fic in time for today (it’s not set on Valentine’s Day, but has a Cupid theme!). In my own defence, I came down with shingles and I’ve had no energy, either physically or emotionally, for really anything. However! The fic IS coming along and the end is very much in sight at this point! I’m always afraid to give timeline promises, but I thiiiink I should be able to finish it this week or early into next week???? It’s at 23,700 words now!
I’m like every other Fangirl, I binge TV, I get addicted and I ship.
Recently, I’ve just been watching so many Fanvideos and it finally clicked.
Why are we watching fanvideos, checking out fanart, reading fanfiction and shipping everyone we see?
This is just my opinion and I would love to know what you think, but, is that what we secretly want? Do we want someone to look at us like John and Sherlock do? Do we want the greatest friendship like Dan and Phil? Do we want to grow old with someone like Han and Leia?
My point is that I think we ship people because that is what we secretly want.
Again this is just my opinion, but what do you guys think?
Don’t think about them at a crime scene during the pandemic, Sherlock’s stunning eyes glimmering above a black mask with a small skull and bones pattern, or John’s blue eyes gazing at Sherlock over a deep indigo mask. Don’t think about John cracking a dry joke, Sherlock’s eyes crinkling in momentary delight, his long-fingered hands gloved and gliding along a book shelf for dust, his shirt sleeves rolled up, his top two buttons undone in the summer heat. Don’t think about them leaving the scene, Sherlock holding the yellow police tape up so John can duck underneath it first, their conversation turning over clues and probability. Don’t imagine them picking up Chinese takeaway on the way home, ripping off their hot masks in the foyer, eating at the messy kitchen table, drinking cold beers, a sheen of sweat on their faces. Don’t imagine Sherlock stripping off his shirt when the hour is late, his bedroom dark except for one small lamp. Don’t picture John standing frozen in the hallway, his hand on the bathroom doorknob, his eyes drifting to Sherlock’s muscled back and trim waist. Don’t think about Sherlock sensing John’s presence, slowly turning, their eyes meeting, the night air heavy, a crackle of desire traveling between them.
Summary: Rosie is tired of how stubborn her dad and her god-father are! She’s decided that it’s time to do something and she’s found the best helpers!
“NANA! I don’t understand! It was supposed to be easy, why is Daddy so sad! Where is Sherlock? If they love each other like Harry and Meghan, why is it so complicated? They should kiss on the mouth, do disgusting things with their tongues, holding hands and be happy forever!”
Sitting near the little bundle of nerves, the lady simply stroked her back softly. “Don’t worry darling. Love… it’s complicated. They must realize by themselves that they are made for each other, we can’t do that for them…”
“But Nana!”
“No Rosie,” Mrs Hudson objected, “they must do that alone… We can only… lets say… steer them in the right direction.”
Suddenly, the door opens and Sherlock rushes into the lab. “Forgot something.” He raises his left hand which was still holding John’s phone and extends it in direction of the doctor. “Sorry, nearly leave with it!”
Automatically extending his hand to take the phone, John’s fingers innocently touch the tall man’s hand.
And he was lost…
The sensation that went through his whole body was something that he had never experienced… It was not heat, not coldness, not static, nor desire.
What the hell is happening?
It was as if suddenly everything that composes what John H. Watson was finally aligned. In unison… Complete.
As if that tall insufferably gorgeous man was the key.
Summary: In a world where 0.01% of the population have a soulmate with whom they share pains and violent emotions… what are the odds that an ex-army doctor and an ex-addict detective open their heart and soul enough to found each others?
Sherlock, plucking flower petals: John loves me!!! *twirls* John loves me not. *shoots wall* JOHN LOVES ME!! *falls backwards onto sofa*
John: *clueless* If I didn’t know any better I’d say he was … heartbrokenly pining for someone named John?? Who the fuck else does he know named John?!!!! I’ll sprain him.
Dr. John “I am Literally jealous of my own dick” Watson
The lovely Fairlie gave generously in @fandomtrumpshate 2022 and I’m tickled to start posting her fic in a week, on May 25th. It’s a Reichenbach Return fix-it in 4 chapters, 12K words, featuring every beloved trope I could cram in–from fake relationshiptobed-sharing and beyond.
Summary: Sherlock, undercover on the Norfolk coast, texts that he needs help; John, who’s still seething after Sherlock’s gambit in the train car, refuses. When Sherlock goes missing, Mycroft sends John in to pose as Sherlock’s bit on the side.
Excerpt:
Thursday 28 November 2013
9:08 p.m.
—Are you available? SH
—Not really, what’s up? JW
John kissed Mary again while he waited for a reply.
— Maybe nothing, never mind. SH
That was … odd. “Never mind?” Since when did Sherlock—
— No, tell me why you asked JW
— I’m undercover and something’s off. SH
— What? How? JW
— Not sure. But there’s definitely something SH
— What? JW
— What, Sherlock? WHAT? JW
Posts on Wed. and Fridays from 25 May to 3 June. Thanks for reblogging!
