This is mostly because I have really bad insomnia and writing helps me to sleep. So here, have some mad stories from my sleep deprived mind. Idk just JOHNLOCK. (✿◠‿◠)

"Why didn't you tell me?" John said, a tear streaming down his face. "I could have helped." He said as he leaned in to hug Sherlock. But this time-Sherlock hugged back. ****WARNING: TRIGGER WARNING. SELF HARM AND ATTEMPTED SUICIDE. Please do not do something you will regret later I Wuv u!***

Sick Sherlock and John are alone in their toasty flat on a cold, rainy day~ No smut, no cursing, purely fluff (◡‿◡❀)♥

An incident takes place with Sherlock Holmes, he's gotten himself into some trouble. But things are about to get even more serious if Sherlock can't solve this next case. NOTE: Bit of Sherlock whump/angst/hurting and Sherlock's blogger is there to catch him. A new case shows about after the first chapter or so, which involves some whump as well. This story is also on Fanfiction.net at this profile https://www.fanfiction.net/u/6424643/DrWhohouselock221b.

In this (BBC) Sherlock AU Sherlock Holmes is given a pen pal named John Watson for an university assignment. Finally. Sherlock has made a friend. A best friend, and he had never even met him. Well, until now. ***** SORRY ABOUT THE WONKY SPACING; I HAVE WRITTEN THIS ON MY LAPTOPS, AND SEVERAL PHONES! IT EFFECTS HOW THE SPACING LOOKS******

19-year-old John Watson has finally gotten his chance to start on his course in becoming a doctor, and has landed at Sir Arthur University in Central London. Here, he meets his roommate Sherlock Holmes, the only one who's ever made John question his own sexuality...

[Sherlock x Female OC] The thing is, there is an empty, gaping hole at the base of John's throat where his overwhelming guilt and periodic bouts of torturous grief used to be. It would be so easy to... to be angry and punch a hole through the wall, through the foam of his pillow -- drive his fist through Sherlock's heart. But he remembers; in the most tragic and inopportune of fashion, remembers how angry he had been when Sherlock had jumped, how furious he had been at his funeral, and how it hadn't stopped him from breaking down at his grave nonetheless. The thing about his anger is this: it does nothing but leave him behind in the end, a bundle of nerves and frailty in his bones and an unsteady sway to his gait. It does nothing at all, but reduce marginally the constant, suffocating oppressiveness of his days bleeding into one another with a burst of adrenaline. The thing about his anger is this: it doesn't give him back Sherlock. So he gets a new flatmate- a woman named Holland. They were great friends at school and in fear he would be lonely again after Sherlock died he started to meet up with her, and soon, she moved in with him. They're just friends, though. No one could have a bond with John like Sherlock did. Sherlock was his best friend. But then Sherlock returns, and John is more furious than ever at him. Also, Sherlock and Holland seem to bond quite well, which is something Sherlock finds too complicated to explain itself.

Sherlock Holmes. The world's only consulting detective. He is a genius, a highly functioning sociopath and completely emotionless. He will always stay that way, but when a secret is revealed, will 221B Baker Street ever be the same again?!

John and Sherlock's second Christmas. Sherlock randomly leaves one day and comes back with a surprise. Lots of fluff.

Sherlock Holmes had never been one to embrace the concept of caring for another human being. All it does is bring about unneeded complications and these messy things called 'feelings'. Yet, when he crosses paths with an invalidated army doctor named John Watson his entire way of thinking is forced to be changed. Will this change be for better or for worse?