I don’t like posting OOC posts on here because I do my best to keep this about the boys and the boys only. But today’s different. I need to.

I want to take a second to thank every one who has made this possible.

This is an ask blog, which means without people sending in questions and interacting, this wouldn’t have worked out. You guys are so fucking enthusiastic about this thing that sometimes I have to scream into my pillow because you all are so cool. I don’t always post everyday, I make so many typos and errors, but you still have fun with it. And send sweet messages and ask about their sex life. ;) ;) ;) ;)

You all are adorable. Please understand that.

So, in honor of obviouslydeduced’s 1 year anniversary, John and Sherlock are now officially engaged!

I’ve been trying to hold off on this for as long as possible and it’s finally paid off.

Thanks for sticking with me.

-beesandjam

Weapon: Violin bow. Text: John. Survival: Unlikely, though I would have John. 

The object to my right is a vial. I last texted Molly (Sherlock left his riding crop in the morgue again.). We would probably die instantly. Great.

Lestrade had ordered the dynamic pair into his office on Wednesday evening simply to finalize the completion of the recent case in regards to the bomber. “So- That’s it?“ the D.I sighed once they had explained everything, pushing himself back into his chair and kicking his feet up all while his observation was perched onto the detectives.

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The tension was rising in the room, yet only a selected few were able to realize this. John still, after three years, couldn’t fathom how one man could upset Sherlock in so many ways. How could such man lack the focus in which was meant to be on the murder? How was it possible that he couldn’t tune Anderson out? The detective did have a prestigious mind, for Christ’s sake. 

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Sherlock was located on the sofa, his slender body practically spilling over the edges as his hands were perched up near his mouth. John, on the other hand, had taken work off to be with his silent companion and was brewing cups of tea in the kitchen. His few attempts earlier proved futile, seeing as the detective didn’t respond quite well when John decided to fumble with the violin or play the telly at a level of volume considered a ridicule. Even Mrs. Hudson stopping by didn’t lessen his ways when bearing in mind that she aimed to chat with him.

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Somehow I managed to drag Sherlock off to bed, but now that I have awoken he still hasn’t really moved considering he’s obviously awake. I’m hoping this doesn’t last longer than a week, bearing in mind that it has before. JW

Well, that’s quite specific, isn’t it? I could only imagine his response to this if he were to see it..

The spot next to John had run cold, but that wasn’t his first clue.

The door has been opened, though that only helped.

John had woken with a slight daze, his fingers clutching towards his right to find that now-familar, long, lanky frame although nothing but cold sheets and an oddly placed pillow greeted him. He forced open his eyes, becoming slightly angered by the brightness of Sherlock’s clock and it’s welcome of a very new day (3:42 was downright glum for people with the possibility of work in the coming hours). In the background of all this, he could hear the faintness of a violin and it was only a matter of seconds for his sleep driven mind to realize it all.

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An umbrella. 

That was the loudest sigh I’ve ever heard.

I suppose. We’ve gotten a large amount riddles.

You like them, though.

Briefly when we don’t have a case. What do you think of it?

The murderer?

Mhmm.

Obviously the husband.

Agreed. Call Lestrade. I’m going to Bart’s in the aftermoon tomorrow. Experiment. May you join me?

Sure. I don’t think Sarah needs me.

Don’t.

I didn’t so stop raising your eyebrow.