His Loyal Blogger
Some Kinda Ghost

laststandatreichenbach:

hisloyalbloggerjw:

"She’ll start calling you Mother. I can’t really stop her." He murmurs, climbing into the bed with her and position them both so she can hear his heart beat while he keeps her warm.

Pressing a kiss to her temple, he whispers her name, “Sherlock. Promise me. Please. So I sleep better at night.”

"She needs to stop…" Sherlock pressed again, shaking her head. "I’m no role model, and that’s what a mother should be—" she hissed, turning her face against him and closing her eyes to listen. "I promise to come and talk to you—" she mumbled. "Now would you be quiet, I have a headache…" she grumbled as she settled her head on his chest and took a deep breath that made her sides ache.

He gently runs his fingers through her hair, silencing himself from saying anything more.

John simply breathes and exists while Sherlock listens.

His hand shifts to massage her back lightly, being as gentle as he can.

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Waking Up || hisloyalbloggerjw

shallnotdisappoint:

hisloyalbloggerjw:

At Sherlock’s words, he stops with a sigh.

Fine.

He flops back onto his side of the bed and scrubs at his eyes until he’s awake and able to see his surroundings better.

I don’t want to talk to him.

You don’t have an appointment with him. But you said you wanted to talk to him. If you’ve changed your mind, we can stay at home John. Or… probably go somewhere.

His eyes open and his consciousness was resurfacing back to reality. He could feel a bit of annoyance radiating from John. Reaching out his hand, he called him.

John? “I love you”. He said it again, both with his mind and with his lips.

John returns the words aloud in an odd language on his tongue. He says it in sign language too, before pressing a kiss to Sherlock’s hand.

No, you’re right. We have to go. This can wait until you feel you’re ready.

He doesn’t want to push sex of any sort onto Sherlock with Sherlock’s full consent.

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hisloyalbloggerjw
‘Angst please.’ MEME

shallnotdisappoint:

hisloyalbloggerjw:

shallnotdisappoint:

(Trigger Warning) Your muse finds my muse in the shower, shaking and bleeding after being raped. (Trigger Warning)

The rustling of water continues an yet Sherlock lay on the ground, with his curls covering his eyes. Blood due to the forced intrusion being washed away as the water continued to pour.

His shirt was the only clothing that remained which was now soaking wet as he was left behind by his assailant. His trousers and pants has been discarded and long forgotten, also soaking wet due to the water coming from the shower. He had no strength, as if everything including that had taken away from him. He never realized anyone would go so low such as this.

Deep pain was screaming on his chest, wanting to come out and cry but everything remained silent from the cubicle he occupied. The only thing one would hear was the sound of water, hitting his clothes, hitting him.

His eyes remained blank, but his mind tortured him as the memory of what just happened played inside his head. The sudden attack causing his head to ring as he hit his head against the wall, unable to make any struggle, the blindfold, the hands on his body on him…

The grip on his arms tightened making his knuckles white as he tried to brush it off. He should be moving… but he doesn’t have the strength to get up or even to move away. In fact, all he wanted to happen right now was to stay there in the shower, with the water washing off the filthiness he just experienced…the memories…everything.

He wanted to wash everything away.

If only…

If only John didn’t see him as he drew the curtain open, his face showed surprise and that’s the time the emotions on his eyes appeared so suddenly.

"Out. Get OUT.

If only John didn’t see him…

Then maybe everything can be possibly forgotten.

He holds Sherlock closer, whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

He was sinking in John’s words. His only grip was the hands around John as he buried himself against his shirt.

This time, warm liquid seeped through the fabric, following with sobs he tried to keep at a minimum.

He feels like he doesn’t deserve any of those sweet words to him.

All John can do is hold Sherlock and comfort him.

He never had this. John needs to give Sherlock this. He holds him close and continues to whisper, running a hand carefully but soothingly over Sherlock’s back.

He’s in a position where, if Sherlock needs to break contact, he’ll move.

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Some Kinda Ghost

laststandatreichenbach:

hisloyalbloggerjw:

"People need to be forgiven… even if they don’t deserve it." He breathes softly, hanging his head a moment.

John takes Sherlock’s hand and presses a kiss to the back of it.

"I know promises aren’t really something you like to do…. but can you please promise me that the next time you start to fall back into the place you were…. can you come talk to me first? Let me know? So… So I don’t feel so useless and stupid and unobservant and guilty for nearly killing you because of my ignorance. I don’t want to watch you die again, Sher."

Sherlock holds his hand for a long time and gives him a little tug towards the bed so he’ll climb in. “Don’t call me Sher… he did that—” Sherlock muttered quietly before she moved over and waited for him to lay beside her. She needed contact, she needed to listen to his heart and she needed warmth.

"Poor circulation always does me in—" she mumbled, knowing that John knows why she wants him. She needed him close. "And tell Avalon to stop call me Mommy… it’s sad” she breathed out.

"She’ll start calling you Mother. I can’t really stop her." He murmurs, climbing into the bed with her and position them both so she can hear his heart beat while he keeps her warm.

Pressing a kiss to her temple, he whispers her name, “Sherlock. Promise me. Please. So I sleep better at night.”

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hisloyalbloggerjw
Avalon flops down on top of a sleeping Sherlock whispering, "Father wake uuuuuuuup~!" John has already gone off to work, leaving her with the Holmes.

shallnotdisappoint:

hisloyalbloggerjw:

shallnotdisappoint:

Sherlock stirs in his sleep, feeling something heavy on top of him. Slowly, he wakes, seeing Avalon in front of him. “Avalon? What’s wrong?” He gets up, rubbing his eyes and yawns.

"Mhm." She replies, holding onto his hand as her blonde curls bounce while she skips beside him.

"Daddy said to double check that the milk was good before we start cooking." She says.

"Of course." Sherlock tried not to smile but  failing nonetheless. Opening the fridge, he saw few eggs in there and butter. Finding the milk, he opened the bottle to check only to wrinkle his nose soon after.

"Yes, we need to go to Tesco for new milk."

He pulls his mobile to send a text to John.

[text] We’ll be heading to Tesco. How do I cook Mickey Mouse pancakes? SH

He goes back to the bedroom, changing his clothes from pyjamas to shirt and trousers and taking his wallet. “Come on, Ava. Let’s go shopping for your pancakes.”

John replies with a link to the recipe online.

"YAAAAAAY PANCAKE SHOPPING~!" Avalon squeals with glee. "Can we get Macaroni and Cheese while we’re out tooooooo?" She inquires, looking hopeful and doe eyed.

Her hand grasps Sherlock’s finger when he stands beside her.1

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Upon touching my Muse, Your’s is suddenly thrown into one of Mine’s Tragic and Painful Memories, Send “Memories of Sorrow” to see a painful and tragic memory of My Muse..
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Fractured | hisloyalbloggerjw

caringwontsavethem:

hisloyalbloggerjw:

caringwontsavethem:

caringwontsavethem:

hisloyalbloggerjw:

He presses a kiss to her forehead, holding her comfortably close. Nodding, he whispers in her ear, “Go to sleep, Dani.”

John shifts a bit to make sure nothing gets tugged or ripped out of Dani’s arm. He tugs the blanket tighter around her.

For…

"John."

The Detective’s voice is low and near.

"You need to rest. She’s not going anywhere."

A hand wrapped around the doctor’s wrist, stilling his movements.

"Bernadette isn’t the only one with tricks up her sleeve. But we are both well aware of that, so let’s not make this difficult, shall we?"

Sighing John’s eyes shut.

Alright. Fine. You win this time. Both of you.

He’s too exhausted to fight.

"Are you staying there or do you want the couch?"

Sherlock gently released the man’s wrist and stepped back.

"We’re going to be alright, you know. Both of us."

"Here." He breathes quietly. "I can’t move, anyway."

Opening a tired eye, he looks up at Sherlock.

"You both keep saying that, by I’m finding it really hard to stay convinced."

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padfoote:

hello! to celebrate reaching a huge follower goal (thank you!), i’ve decided to do a giveaway for my followers, and since i’m going to the harry potter studios in a couple of week’s time i thought that some harry potter-themed prizes from the gift shop would be a good idea!

rules:

must be following me

reblog as many times as you want, and you can like to keep track, but likes alone will not count

the deadline to enter is august 22nd, 11.59pm GMT

i’ll ship to to anywhere

there will be one winner, and two runners-up

winners will be selected using a number generator thing like random.org

you will win;

an ‘authentic’ harry potter scarf in the house of your choice

any harry potter wand available in the shop (literally any you want whether it’s harry’s, professor slughorn’s, or even the elder wand!)

the runner-ups will each receive a box of bertie bott’s every flavour beans

Good Luck! ^-^

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hisloyalbloggerjw
‘Angst please.’ MEME

shallnotdisappoint:

hisloyalbloggerjw:

shallnotdisappoint:

(Trigger Warning) Your muse finds my muse in the shower, shaking and bleeding after being raped. (Trigger Warning)

The rustling of water continues an yet Sherlock lay on the ground, with his curls covering his eyes. Blood due to the forced intrusion being washed away as the water continued to pour.

His shirt was the only clothing that remained which was now soaking wet as he was left behind by his assailant. His trousers and pants has been discarded and long forgotten, also soaking wet due to the water coming from the shower. He had no strength, as if everything including that had taken away from him. He never realized anyone would go so low such as this.

Deep pain was screaming on his chest, wanting to come out and cry but everything remained silent from the cubicle he occupied. The only thing one would hear was the sound of water, hitting his clothes, hitting him.

His eyes remained blank, but his mind tortured him as the memory of what just happened played inside his head. The sudden attack causing his head to ring as he hit his head against the wall, unable to make any struggle, the blindfold, the hands on his body on him…

The grip on his arms tightened making his knuckles white as he tried to brush it off. He should be moving… but he doesn’t have the strength to get up or even to move away. In fact, all he wanted to happen right now was to stay there in the shower, with the water washing off the filthiness he just experienced…the memories…everything.

He wanted to wash everything away.

If only…

If only John didn’t see him as he drew the curtain open, his face showed surprise and that’s the time the emotions on his eyes appeared so suddenly.

"Out. Get OUT.

If only John didn’t see him…

Then maybe everything can be possibly forgotten.

"You’re welcome." He replies softly, keeping his body language and words calm.

"Are you feeling any better?"

Sherlock nodded quietly. “Yes.” He closed his eyes, burying himself to John’s neck.

He holds Sherlock closer, whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

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Waking Up || hisloyalbloggerjw

shallnotdisappoint:

hisloyalbloggerjw:

John is far more gentle this time. 

He entangles himself with Sherlock and holds him close, whispering sweet nothings in his head. 

John kisses along Sherlock’s job, moving to the neck again.

He is careful this time and presses light kisses along the skin.

With his mind filled with so much affection from John, Sherlock thought it might be possible for him to drown from them. He didn’t.

Though it was truly a good feeling, having John’s arms around him, with his lips kissing his skin. He found himself humming accordingly though he reciprocate as much as he could. His hand smoothing down John’s back as his lips go down to his neck, biding his time.

John, He called out to him softly. As much as I’d like for us to stay here right now, we need to wake up. I believe we need to go and…meet my brother.

He didn’t want to spoil the mood. But in one way or another, they need to face his annoying of a brother so he would stop bothering them already.

At Sherlock’s words, he stops with a sigh.

Fine.

He flops back onto his side of the bed and scrubs at his eyes until he’s awake and able to see his surroundings better.

I don’t want to talk to him.

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John Watson. No longer Doctor. I'm a one legged Tin Soldier.

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