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-Johnlock Fanfic- 🍩-What if in an alternate reality people have visual signs of soulmates identity? Names written on their wrists? 🍪-And what if William Sherlock Scott Holmes has a mysterious name in his wrist that he cannot find it's owner?-"Who names their kid Hamish?"-Although for him is easy having liberal parents that aren't homophobic. 🍘-But for John H. Watson it is different!- "William? A BOY!"-His parents are flustered and after Harriet (Johns sister) they are even more! 🥯-John doesn't believe in these kind of stuff and has given up before even starting and Sherlock is married to his work. But John is looking for a flatmate and Mike takes him to Sherlock... 🥮-After the worst case John has ever faced a certain detective tries to cheer his blogger by filling up a Christmas to-do list which was given him for a reason! Read to learn more about this awesome 'way' of them finding each other and their happiness -'Because sometimes when you don't look for it...It finds it's way to you!'- Enjoy 🥂

An interesting twist on the Sherlock universe-Sherlock is a girl. John, however, doesn't know this. Neither does Mrs. Hudson, or anyone else besides his direct family. This takes place sometime after series 2 or 3, with Mary only dating John. It will eventually contain a bit of Johnlock, with the usual tension and what-not throughout the whole story. But this isn't necessarily just a Johnlock story. There'll be other ships somewhat approached, but overall, it's more of a thriller (or at least, I'm trying to have it be). Cover Art by ShootBadCabbies on Tumblr! Also, kudos to anyone who understands the title and chapter name references. Comment if you have an idea.

"How are you dealing with your Philophobia?" Sherlock asked, completely ignoring John, who looked more confused as ever. "You haven't forgotten about that, have you?" Minerva smiled at him. Nine years ago she had met him and already knew something was special about him. His deduction skills were something she'd never seen before and yet he still remebered her fear of falling in love. "I'm doing fine, Sherlock. How about you?" Sherlock knew what she was hinting at. He had learned that Minerva was a master at reading peoples emotions within seconds. She must have seen the love in his eyes. He recalled her saying: "A look into someones eyes, for even just a second, is enough for me to know exactly what their feeling." Knowing he would lie to her, Sherlock answered: "I'm doing well." "I'm sorry, but what the bloody hell is going on?" John inquired. A little piece from my story. This Fanfic contains Johnlock, two of my Oc's and lots of mysteries. Be prepaaaaaareeeed. *vibes to Be prepared* Bye

"Detective Holmes, does your job ever cause you troubles that might lead to consuming drugs?" "I never have troubles with my job." Sherlock said, holding John's penetrating gaze without flinching. "Neither family issues, nor anything related with your job. Perhaps unrequited love, then?" *** Sherlock Holmes relies on many things to keep his supreme mind rational. Murder cases, for instance, provide him the adrenaline required to persist in sanity without falling into an abyss of dullness. Morphine serves as a tranquilizer for his untamable fact processing brain. Cocaine is a fine source of dopamine and fills in the hole of emptiness dug by the lack of intellectual crimes. To an outsider, he would fit labels like drug addict, sociopath, maniac, freak, but Sherlock thought he had attained a fairly satisfying equilibrium in life. But that was until he his brother stepped in, and John Watson became his therapist... And his flatmate. And a very alarming problem. ⚠️ Warning : mentions of drugs

POST REICHENBACH/JOHNLOCK AU. Two years after watching the love of his life commit suicide, John Watson has faded out. Balancing between sleepless nights or facing the nightmares to see Sherlock’s face again; he knows the game is over. But he never had closure. And so, on a bleak Christmas Eve, he visits Sherlock’s grave and says what he should have said but never could. He hadn’t expected a reply; especially not this one. After two years of using the shadow of his demise as a cover to take down a terror network, Sherlock Holmes is back. With his hand hovering over the call button, he waits near his grave to catch a glimpse of John, unsure of how to come home. But one night, somebody makes it easier. The game is on. (Or should I say, “The gay is on”?) BOOK #1 of the SherlockedDoors Subcanon (shitty name, I know, but alliteration calls.) (NOTE: This does not follow the plot of series 3, it goes off in a totally different direction. Though some things have been recently updated to merge with some posts in John's blog and a couple of teasers, I started writing this AAGGGEESSS before series 3 so the reunion scene is different. Anyhow, if you like Johnlock, you'll probably like this. Enjoy!)

What if the perfect duo of Holmes and Watson had met differently? What if John had been hired by Mycroft to look after his little brother? What if... "Mr. Holmes," John exclaimed with astonishment written across his features. "You can't be serious." "This isn't complicated, I assure you. All that I'm requesting is for you to befriend my brother and become his flat-mate. You will still have your regular life. Your past with the MI-6 will become rather useful with protecting Sherlock from harm with his array of detective work and crime fighting." John couldn't ignore the way his heart's jumped at the last part. He struggled to keep his face straight and look at this rationally. "And what if your brother doesn't like me? We might not be friends." Mycroft sighed. "Then I will remove you from this job and ask someone else to try," he replied smoothly. John was going to reject the offer when Mycroft interrupted. "Mr. Watson, I am aware that you want something more then your dull civilian life. This is the offer that you've been waiting for." Still uncertain, John wavered. He decided to at least take a look at the file Mycroft handed him seconds ago. Nothing caught his eye as he flitted mindlessly through the pages. Then his eyes landed on the photo and John's breath caught in his throat. His sharp cheekbones and impossible eyes were undeniably the ones of the breath-taking man he had bumped into on the street earlier.

~Newly revamped!~ A Johnlock Fanfic There is something between John and Sherlock, even if they won't accept it. But when a new member of Scotland Yard starts hanging out with John, Sherlock can't contain his jealousy. John is in the works of planning a surprise for Sherlock, but everything could be ruined. Not only by Sherlock's jealousy, but by the voice of a dead man asking Sherlock "Did you miss me?" AU in which Morarity died on the roof and Sherlock was able to walk down without his friends being shot Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this book. No copyright infringement is intended. All characters belong to BBC. With the exception of my original character Jake Rogers.

John Watson's first day of Uni starts off rather strangely when he is suddenly forced to switch rooms and meets the strange and mysterious Sherlock Holmes. No matter how hard John tries he just cannot get a good read on his new roommate, even though Sherlock was able to figure everything about John's life out in a matter of seconds. The more time they spend together the more John wonders, will they every really be friends, could they possibly be more than that one day? Or will a secret of Sherlocks destroy any chance of a future for them? Completed The characters in the book are property of BBC. I do not own any of these characters. No copyright infringement is intended.

My addition to the fandom is out - and so is John. - In the year 1997, John Watson finds himself at an interview for a job he doesn't need, and then at the same location of a new university flatmate that he initially doesn't want. Meanwhile, Sherlock Holmes is trying to debunk the Scotland Yard's incorrect description of what is actually a group of mass-murders revolving around a small memory-wiping pill. Mr. Holmes needs an assistant, and Mr. Watson needs a companion. Little do either of them know how much they specifically need one another. [I wrote this when I was early in my teenage years. Keeping it up because you like it, but keep in mind it may be riddled with potentially less-than-decent content. Happy reading!]

He was looking at Sherlock Holmes. Yet not the one he would have expected. Distinctive changeable eyes, lined by a row of long dense lashes, showed an expression of a wild animal standing in the glare of approaching headlights. Of a man driven into a corner. Simply expressed, an expression of pure horror, something you don't see on a famous consulting detective most of the time. John opened his mouth, but after a realisation that he has no idea of what he wanted to say, he closed it again. He wasn't welcomed by a mutilated, smashed face. The severed spine could be ruled out straight away, and he seemed to have all his limbs as well. He felt an endless relief when he saw solid, uninjured skin where the blood flowed the last time. Nevertheless, the scene he was offered tugged the carpet under his feet and he had to admit (if a bit grudgingly) that Mycroft was right-he did not exaggerate when warning him it might be a shock. Trigger warnings: This story contains references to violence and its description, and also deals with self-esteem issues and body image. If something triggers you, please proceed with caution or reconsider if you want to continue reading. PS: English isn't my native language and I'm a bit unsure of my style, but I hope you will like it. Enjoy the story!