can we please talk about this
# 1998 is a hard year for jackie # even working two jobs money is tight # (especially with rose’s gymnastic lessons # but rose loves them and jackie will sell her own kidneys to ensure she can keep attending) # and christmas is just around the corner # she looks over her books and feels ill: # she simply can’t afford to get rose any proper gift this year # and it breaks her heart # because rose is so excited # she loves christmas # keeps saying how she hopes it’ll snow this year # proper like # and christmas eve jackie is up late # worrying and hating how disappointed rose is gonna be come morning # when she wakes up to see the floor is almost empty beneath the tree # and that’s when there’s a knock at the door # she opens it # (with a baseball bat at the ready - it’s late on the estate after all) # and there’s no one there # just a red child-sized bike # with a note attached # 'she's gonna be fantastic' it reads in messy loopy handwriting # 'merry christmas' # and normally she’d be worried about weirdos and stalkers but tonight # tonight it’s christmas eve and jackie tyler knows when not to look a gift horse in the mouth # so she hauls it inside quiet as she can # and the next morning when she’s awoken by the sound of rose crashing her new bike # into the hallway mirror # shrieking in delight the entire time # she takes a moment to say a silent thank you (via)
and now I’m crying
anonymoustruism sent this to my in a fanmail and it’s wonderful. Enjoy!
Standing in Tesco was not the way Dr. John Watson preferred to spend his Saturday (and only day off) that week. Rubbing his face, John thought back to the reason why he was standing in the sugar aisle instead of his warm flat.
Between running after Sherlock and making up his shifts, John greatly valued the days he could just relax in his over-stuffed easy chair and nap. And to John nothing was more satisfying than a pre-nap cup of tea. Humming gently to himself, he had walked into the kitchen, stepped around Sherlock who was on the floor half-under the table (not even going to ask), and went about his tea ritual. Living with Sherlock necessitated a procedure for tea.
Favorite mug checked and rinsed? Check.
Kettle checked for strange liquids and put onto the stove? Check.
Tea located and put into favorite manatee steeping ball? Check.
Sugar container located and…
“Where is the sugar? I bought a new bag three days ago.”
“The what, John?”
Another deep sigh rent the air as John turned from the counter and crouched by the table to get Sherlock’s full attention. “The sugar, Sherlock, what did you do with a full kilogram of sugar? I know it had to be you because I was at the clinic these last few days.”
“I needed it. Experiment.” They had been flat mates long enough that John was not fooled by the ‘experiment’ excuse anymore. Even someone as dim-witted as Anderson could see that Sherlock was avoiding the topic.
“What did you need the entire kilogram for?” John, cranky from his lack of nap and tea, put a firm hand on Sherlock’s bent shoulder; gently pulling the raven-haired genius around to face him.
Immediately all irritable thoughts vanished from his mind as he beheld what was in those long pianist’s fingers. Sucking on a tiny dropper for all it was worth was their last case’s pet sugar glider; a glass containing a thick liquid that was surely water and John’s sugar was sitting by Sherlock’s knee.
The last client had an affinity for strange pets and had left the poor rodent all by its lonesome after being murdered brutally; murdered for stealing a rare green macaw from his estranged half-sister. Luckily they had solved the case, saved the day, and had been packed back to their flat with a small squirrel like animal in their keeping until Lestrade could get the animal placed. For the past few days John had found Sherlock in strange places with the sugar glider on his shoulder and once on the top of his head. He had even heard him talking to the animal in a soft low tone. On that particular occasion and grinning madly, John had immediately backed out of the room and went to visit Mrs. Hudson for a few hours.
“Did you really need the full bag though?” Although he was making an effort to sound put out John was greatly amused with Sherlock’s love of the cute baby animal. I’m not really mad, just ask next time okay? If I had known I would have gotten a bigger bag .I’ll go get more, shall I?”
Shining eyes gleamed at John from the shadows of the table. “Yes, Anastasia is still very young and must be fed every two to three hours.” Thank you John, my card is on the table. Could you pick up some biscuits too?”
Snorting, John gently thumped the thick mop of curly hair and rose from the floor. Grabbing his keys and Sherlock’s card from the table he strode out of the flat. A cold wind greeted him as he shut the door and stepped out into the street. Halloween was in a week’s time and John knew that his days would be busy with extra-long shifts at the clinic (holidays always equaled accidents) and more cases (Halloween seemed to make people think they could get away with murder).
Coming back to himself John stared down at the basket in his hand. Two bags of sugar, a bag of apples, a container of pineapple and his favorite chocolate biscuits winked up at him. Sherlock was paying so why not splurge a little? Satisfied that he had everything he had come for, John made toward the checkout counter. Never again would he use those dreaded automated checkout machines. Being forced away by his own ineptitude once was enough. Just as he rounded the end of the aisle something in garish orange caught his eye. Grinning up at him were small boxes of sugar skulls. Perfect for parties! the package screamed at him. Unable to resist, he bought two packages and hurried off to check out. John could not wait to see the look on Sherlock’s face when a mini Billy met him from the bottom of his mug.
when I publish my novel I want you all to swear to me that you’re going to write uncomfortably erotic fic about characters I didn’t intend to have sexual tension
swear to me
No crack fics, no sequel.
You haven’t truly made it until someone writes incest.
John was drawn through Livestream. Thanks for being there guys!
I hope you like the colour schemes for them, I fail so hard on design…come to think of it, I kinda want John’s sleeve to be rolled up now. Or maybe remove Sherlock’s scarf kljalksdjfkxcbn aelkdfxbvFFFUUUUUUUU k that’s it I’m at least redoing John’s top sob…2 down, 2 more to go. Long live Portaling Sherlockians.
[Portal 2 logo via google]
“You are like nobody since I love you.” -Pablo Neruda
My friend recently got asked out by a boy he liked and, well, this is pretty much how it happened with them. Am so happy for them both.