Just a bunch of little Johnlock fluffys put into one! The occasional smutty(ish(hinting)) thing may come along here and there, but nothing much more! I like to stick to the fluff ^-^Some really make no sense at all but they're fun to write! :D The characters ARE NOT MINE! NEITHER IS THE FANART All rights go to the BBC and to Aurthur Conan Doyle and the artists! ~Una

Meet Sherlock Holmes- a 15 year old sociopath; arrogant, tactless, rejected, but enjoys a life of solitude and deducing. Meet John Watson- a 15 year old footballer; quiet, popular, caring, but endures a life of isolation and oppression. A transfer from a state school, John pushes open the door of Room 22 to find the most crucial part of his life he never knew existed; a teenage boy with the mind of a philosopher, who just so happens to be able to precisely analyse every detail of John's life, whilst being able to piss everyone else off at the exact same time.

Johnlock's everyday texts.

(BBC Sherlock, AU) When an angry and dazed John Watson fills out a scholarship form for the prestigious and exclusive Baskerville High, situated in the middle of Dartmoor, he never expects to gain a place. Leaving his abusive father behind, he quickly finds himself being whisked into a new life alongside the mysterious, gorgeous and undoubtedly genius Sherlock Holmes- somebody who needs John just as much as he needs him. What they soon learn is that the school isn't just old brick buildings and blazers- it is a minefield of twisted characters with dark secrets, all with different schemes to establish their place on the pecking order. As the lives of the Freaks and the Felonious knit irrevocably together, they find themselves facing far more terrifying things than the mayhem around them- things like falling for eachother. Falling can be a problem when you've always got fragments of the past knocking on your door. That, and older brothers, imbeciles and a monstrous hound... (Contains: Johnlock *cough* obviously *cough*, Mystrade, MorMor, etc...) (DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN BBC SHERLOCK. THIS IS SIMPLY A FANFICTION.)

Winterliche Stille in der Bakerstreet. Zwei Musiker. Der erste von vielen unvergesslichen Abenden.

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!)

Fluffy teenlock set in a world where you only see in colour when you find your soulmate. The idea for this was from tumblr. Don't worry it's not the hat fic.

John is furious and leaves the flat after an argument with Sherlock. A short while after that he wents missing and now Sherlock tries his hardest to get his only friend back. Along the way he discovers that maybe John means more to him than Sherlock had thought. Johnlock

John's never seen a kid like him. He has this beautiful, crazy grace - withheld behind a smug smile and wisecracks that make John frustrated in so many different kinds of ways. And his eyes; crystal clear, decisive, cleaning through the unimportant things to find the valuables in life. He may or may not have a thing for smoking and James Bond, his favorite ice cream is mint with a chocolate swirl, and he is absolutely addicted to Pop Rocks and toffee. He enjoys pretty boys and warehouses, where he can hoard and think and be alone. Also, bumper cars, and John Watson. But Sherlock Holmes's thing, his niche, his calling in life... is to steal. Books. Wallets. Phones. Cars. Everything you've ever wanted, he's had. Everything you've ever wished for, he's stolen. Everything you are, everything you told yourself that you weren't, he owns, and he plays you like an out-of-tune violin. Does that mean that John's going to let him steal his heart? Not a shot in hell.

“I’m starting to think letting you into my home wasn’t such a good idea.” “Oh it was probably the worst thing you’ve ever done.” There was a moment’s pause before he spoke again. “Do you regret it?” “Not one bit.”