sherlockbbc_fic | Prompting Part XXXV

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Prompting Part XXXV

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Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

I think the prompt the above anon mentioned – in which Moriarty tries to force John to rape Sherlock, but Sherlock doesn't let John do it – can be found on page 13 of part 34.

sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal (dot) com/21766.html?thread=128830726#t128830726

(The second fill is mine.)

There's also one on page 10 of the same part, in which Moriarty rapes Sherlock and forces John to watch, and John unexpectedly finds himself getting aroused.

sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal (dot) com/21766.html?thread=128689414#t128689414

Finally, a long and astonishly well-written WIP in which Magnussen forces John to rape Sherlock while he watches.

sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal (dot) com/21766.html?thread=130158342#t130158342

I really do think you're a great writer going on what I've read. I look forward to reading your fill on this one. It'll cheer me up after the morning I've had.

You could say that sleeping with John is...

..a pain in the arse.

YEEEEAAAH.

Combine the Mirror of Erised, the pensieve, the Danger Room and a pseudo-psychology function. A person looking to understand his or her (repressed) psyche presents a drop of blood to the room and can see immediately, projected on the holographic walls, their deepest and innermost thoughts. Provides enlightenment. Sort of.

Enter one Sherlock Holmes to use the room for more perverse reasons. Sherlock, with his highly organized thoughts, is able to somehow influence the thoughts that get read from his blood. Because he is a kinky bastard, Sherlock's thoughts are of him in various delicious situations. Most of them are of him being buggered by John in public, and private; some of them of him being buggered by a dog, some by a dragon, werewolf, or an elf. A few are of him pregnant and labouring hard. And for each of this scenarios, the room plays the sounds of Sherlock moaning.

And while all that is happening, because Sherlock has managed to drag John with him into the room, he is being fucked by the unbridled lust of John, who is driven rather mad by all the images and sounds. So while Sherlock's mind is being fucked senseless, his body is assaulted by the furious and unrelenting passion of his lover.

Kinks that Sherlock indulges in the deep recesses of his mind include cross-dressing, mpreg, bestiality, public sex, bdsm... Basically I imagine if Sherlock turned that thinking machine of his towards sex, well... NSY may be fumbling even more?

So, yep.

Cheers,
Filthy Pidgeon

P.S. Post it to ao3, please? :D

At the risk of promoting my own fic, I've just started something that sounds like it might be right up your alley: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1434250

"Sherlock may have physically survived his abduction, but in his mind he'll never be whole again. John understands PTSD, understands what Sherlock is going through, and is determined to be patient. Angst, hurt/comfort, and eventual Johnlock as Sherlock tries to rebuild his ability to trust."

(Not exactly a prompt fill, but lots of delicious angst and eventual trust.)

Oooh, yes. <3

Thirding fourthing fifthing!

UNF! I need a cold shower just from reading this prompt!

Hmm, I might have an idea for a short fill... I'm a very slow writer, though, so anyone else feel free to jump in first! :)

[ It occurred to me you are in a later time zone than I am if you are UK... I might not be done until further into Thursday than I originally intended]

"You, do know it's Mrs. Hudson's birthday today, yes?"

"Mmm," came the response from behind a jumble of test tubes and Erlenmeyer flasks in the kitchen.

"I thought not. Well, since there's no chance of making one with the kitchen is this state, I'll go grab one on the way home. Be nice to do something for her."

"Nonsense. I'll bake her one. She would appreciate something made by hand far more."

"You. Will bake a cake?"

"Was I unclear? Yes, John. I, Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective, will bake a birthday cake for our long-suffering landlady and non-housekeeper (though the lack of dust on my bookshelf most certainly would suggest otherwise), Mrs. Hudson."

"She will want to actually eat it, you realize. You know how to bake?"

Sherlock held up one flask. "This is luminol, or rather, it will be shortly...a chemical which you have, no doubt, seen at crime scenes where traces of blood might otherwise be undetectable. It can even, theoretically, detect blood on washed clothing. One major drawback is it will also create its characteristic blue glow when it makes contact with copper, and, unfortunately, bleach. So, if the criminal cleaned up after himself, or an overly enthusiastic housekeeper cleaned up for him, with bleach product, the whole room would react, and this particular chemical would be rendered useless. I am endeavoring to make it less reactive to that particular agent. One of luminol's chief ingredients is Na2CO3, sodium carbonate, better known as baking powder, close in composition to lye, and particularly good for pretzels, and known as jian when making especially slippery Chinese noodles. Replace a sodium with a hydrogen and you've got baking soda. These chemicals make cake rise because the heat of the oven decomposes the molecule to create sodium carbonate, carbon dioxide and water vapor. It's the carbon dioxide gas which makes the tiny bubbles that, in turn, make your cake fluffy and light. As opposed to a variation of a death frisbee. See. Chemistry!"

John stared for a moment, unsure how to react. "Measuring cups are in the bottom drawer to the left of the sink. Have at it. Don't blow anything up."

"Mmm." Sherlock returned to his solution of almost-luminol.

*1
NOT OP, but if there is any possibility of adding D/S elements like or boot liking or general humiliation, that would be just brilliant. I am sorry I have no intention of hijacking the post this is only a suggestion.

It took a significant amount of self-restraint, and two ignored texts from John asking how it was going, before Sherlock finally cleared off the table, grudgingly wiped it down, and began the search for a suitable cake recipe.

He took a quick look in the fridge. Eggs, butter, milk. Good. Cupboard: flour, sugar, jam. Good. This is indeed possible without a trip to Tesco.

After a quick image search of cakes, he settled on a Victoria Sponge. Now for the recipe. "Mary Berry's perfect Victoria sandwich." It even had a corresponding YouTube link: 40,580 views, 436 likes, 12 dislikes. Reasonable statistics, given people's natural tendency to simply move on after the mission was accomplished, a hesitancy to log in and leave feedback after a successful experience.

Sherlock removed the eggs, butter and milk from the fridge and placed them on the table. The milk seemed awfully light. "No. No milk. Do I need milk? No, I don't need milk. Good. We need milk!" he announced to the empty flat. He glanced at the recipe again. Four free-range eggs. Free range is hardly necessary. Four eggs it is. 225 g self-raising flour. Yes, we have flour. 2 tsp baking powder. 225 g baking spread, margarine or soft butter at room temperature. Extra to grease the tins. Yes. To serve: good-quality strawberry or raspberry jam. Yes. Mrs. Hudson's favorite brand, given to John as a thank you gift for caring for her plants while she spent the week at her sisters. Whipped double cream (optional). Optional indeed.

Five ingredients. Simplicity itself. Preparation time: less than 30 minutes. Cooking time: 10-30 minutes. In less than an hour he would be back to his experiments.

Preheat oven to 180. Grease and line 2x20 cm sandwich tins. Do we have tins? After a rather exhaustive search of the cupboards there were some tins of roughly the correct size and shape . Sherlock didn't know how they got there and decided he would cease to question how or why, instead being simply grateful they existed. Use a piece of baking or silicone paper to rub a little baking spread (or, presumably, butter) around the inside of the tins. With baking or silicone paper? Surely he would have spotted something like that when he looked for the pans. He looked again. Just to spread the butter. Any thin paper would do. He had printers and printer paper scattered throughout the flat, but it wouldn't be very thin. Oh, yes. The Rizlas. He spread the butter around. Line the pan? Now that part he'd just skip. Eggs, sugar, flour, baking powder, spread. Mix. Hand mixer or spoon. Spoon. Put a damp cloth under your bowl... surely I don't need to... this is ridiculous. I'll just mix the batter. There. Mix. Mix. Mix. Where was I? Oh, divide between the tins. You can weigh them? Use a spatula. Yes. I have a spatula. Middle shelf. 25 minutes. Don't open the door while they are cooking. Do look through the door to check them after 20 minutes. I have 20 minutes.

Sherlock Holmes is not entirely unaware of his tendency to become fully absorbed in something to the exclusion of all other things. That is precisely why he set a timer, and 20 minutes later diligently peered through the door. The cakes are done when they are golden brown and coming away from the edges. Not yet then. He almost went to check John's emails without resetting the timer for another five minutes, but caught himself just in time. When the alarm went off a second time, they were golden brown and separating at the edges, exactly as described. Easy peasy. Springy to the touch. No. No not at all springy to the touch. Cool. Run butter knife around the edge and out on a ...cooling rack? Where is a cooling rack? Forget the bit about using a tea towel to prevent rack marks, where is a bloody cooling rack? There was no chance of leaving wire impressions on the cake anyway. They were hard as a rock.

Where Sherlock has a mind palace, Jim organized his memories in dreams. So the first season as we saw it was his composite (from watchers, hacking CCTV, John's blog, after-the-fact information, their personalities, and mentally putting it all together) of Sherlock Holmes from the first time he heard of Jim (and, incidentally, the first time he met John) up till their first face-to-face meeting. He keeps updating ASiP (hence the differences from the pilot), although he has a bad habit of slipping in details that he can't verify but wants to be true; TBB was a sample of cases-in-between, which tend to be muddled because as long as the plans he sold work out Jim doesn't particularly care about the details (and has a bad habit of othering foreign citizens); and he quite cherishes TGG, although the dream keeps taking different directions after he reenters the pool because there were so many delicious options that all were cut off once reality chose one.

During the Great Hiatus, Sherlock keeps dreaming, essentially, the second season. He actually started dreaming ASiB before having to falsify his death, back when John could and did call him on trying to rewrite his memories so that he wound up winning -- this may be why it keeps showing up, although now muddled with fuzzy bits and pieces of Bond Night. THoB is confusing and illogical because hey, even Sherlock's dreams can't be straightforward and logical all the time; although the events of TRF got traumatically engraved in his brain such that it replays them as-was while during his sleep. Well, everyone knows that processing through trauma sucks.

Speaking of which, the third season is John's dreams -- towards the end of the Hiatus. He's never believed Sherlock to be a fraud and is half-convinced that he can and will turn up alive after all (well, depending on the day; his gravesite visit was on a day when he was almost sure Sherlock was dead, but hoped to ghod he wasn't): combine that with his trust issues, with Sherlock's name having been more-or-less cleared but the full situation rapidly making a bid for a place among Great Unsolved Mysteries of the Twenty-first Century, and with actually having met a very nice Mary, and you get the wish-fulfillment-at-liar's-hands of TEH; the situation in TSo3 where even if you have a fridge logic moment of "Empress Elisabeth of Austria!" you wake up crying because it didn't happen, and won't happen, and more than likely will never even approach happening; and the utter whiplash of HLV, where maybe they love you -- and maybe now you can acknowledge that they love(d) you -- but didn't respect you, and don't respect you, and will never respect you, with the ohhhh shit twist-in-the-tag.

So if these were their dreams, what's the reality?

Ooooh, yes. Yum.

Awww yes! Misunderstandings and sounds fluffy and angsty. Beautiful

T.T thirding very hard.

*snicker*

Along those lines, I've generally thought that Sherlock would be a show-er and John a grower...

Mary and John have a long-standing agreement that when he has to go to Baker street overnight for "a case", or when Mary is "going out for the evening" with some friends, they don't ask questions.

Mary is pretty sure that John is having an affair with Sherlock, and John is pretty sure that Mary's gone back to assassin work, but they don't bring it up.

That is, until one night, as John and Sherlock are lying in bed together after sex, Mary staggers into 221B, bleeding from a bullet wound in her shoulder.

Now they're all forced to confront the lies they've been telling one another. Results?

(OP is alright with threesome, but if that's not anon's cup of tea please at least refrain from Mary-bashing.)

Video. I'll watch the video and see what went wrong. Even she says it couldn't be any easier. Eggs, caster sugar (different), baking powder, self-raising? Self-raising flour in a sifter? Mixer. Don't overbeat...did I overbeat?...maybe I overbeat. 25 minutes, not 20, and there's the wire rack. I need a wire rack. She didn't use paper. Do I still need paper?

Sherlock did another inventory, and was off to Tesco for caster sugar, self-raising flour, a sifter, a mixer, two perfectly sized pans and a cooling rack. And the optional cream. It was about this time when John texted again.

How's it going? - J

Fine. -S

Fine? -J

Fine. - S

After watching the video two more times, he paused it as he completed each step. He sifted the flour. He didn't overmix it. He weighed the batter into two equal portions using his balance (even though it was the original recipe that suggested that, not the video). He baked it again, pulled his chair up to the oven and watched through the oven door as it cooked for the entire 25 minutes. There was no way it wouldn't be done right this time.

And yet... it made a better weapon than a cake. It might make a splendid murder weapon for Mary Berry.

[Error: Irreparable invalid markup ('<thumbs down.>') in entry. Owner must fix manually. Raw contents below.]

Video. I'll watch the video and see what went wrong. Even she says it couldn't be any easier. Eggs, caster sugar (different), baking powder, self-raising? Self-raising flour in a sifter? Mixer. Don't overbeat...did I overbeat?...maybe I overbeat. 25 minutes, not 20, and there's the wire rack. I need a wire rack. She didn't use paper. Do I still need paper?

Sherlock did another inventory, and was off to Tesco for caster sugar, self-raising flour, a sifter, a mixer, two perfectly sized pans and a cooling rack. And the optional cream. It was about this time when John texted again.

How's it going? - J

Fine. -S

Fine? -J

Fine. - S

After watching the video two more times, he paused it as he completed each step. He sifted the flour. He didn't overmix it. He weighed the batter into two equal portions using his balance (even though it was the original recipe that suggested that, not the video). He baked it again, pulled his chair up to the oven and watched through the oven door as it cooked for the entire 25 minutes. There was no way it wouldn't be done right this time.

And yet... it made a better weapon than a cake. It might make a splendid murder weapon for Mary Berry.

<Thumbs down.> What the hell was my sign in name anyway? Did I ever even have one? <Cancel.>

After John moves in with Mary again, one of Sherlock's fans becomes obsessed with the idea that Mary is faking her pregnancy to save her marriage. They start trying to "warn" John off her with increasingly distraught messages. Initially John and Mary are so distracted by the Moriarty problem that they don't notice, until some scary things start to happen. Dealing with this new issue helps John and Mary rebuild their trust in each other.

Oh crap....I don't know what happened there. After he says the bit about it being a murder weapon for Mary Berry, just jump down to the last line about thumbs down.

Maybe the bracketing messed it up? I dunno?

Actually ... You can read it after the ERROR comment and just finish it from there and it will read correctly.

Sherlock and John as buns.

Post link:
http://2pervsandatablet.tumblr.com/post/82249443021/5-minute-recolor-of-packy-and-botasky-from-cat

Pic link:
https://24.media.tumblr.com/9511709ed0c94e19dd05f402f3321354/tumblr_n3skx51uXO1tqtv0fo1_500.png

NEED THIS LIKE AIR - SECONDING

To borrow a phrase, I want this because of reasons.

Two of the girls play fighting (Molly, Irene, Mary, Janine, Anthea, whoever). Make it cute plz. Smut not needed, but feel free to add if you wish.

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