Sherlock is an aspiring artist with literally nothing except some dried old paints to his name, living in the same ratty old apartment building with his best friend, Molly Hooper. Eventually, the unoccupied apartment across the hall gets a new resident, a cheerful and slightly annoying John Watson. Johnlock Fluff

Assistant Professor Sherlock teaches seventh year John in potions Johnlock fluff :)

"I need notes," Sherlock explained. "No." - As of January 30th, 2019, this fic has been revised, edited, and cleaned up to its absolute best for your reading pleasure! Happy shipping, folks! - Noms Warnings: *OOC Mary (not Mary friendly, i'm sorry </3) *Non/con themes (no rape, minor sexual assault) *Minor victim blaming (not on purpose, well intentioned/general miscommunication and assholery from John) *Hand wavey science (not a warning, just hope u know i was bullshitting this whole fic when i wrote it at 13)

Hey! This is a Johnlock oneshot set to the song Northern Downpour by Panic! At The Disco. It takes place during John and Mary's wedding. (warning: this was incredibly depressing to write)

Collection of Johnlock one shots because otp.

Just a collection of some johnlock oneshots.

(Take no credit for the characters or cover art)(contains johnlock and fantasy elements and some Jim Moriarty antics) (new title by @sempai1213) I'm absolutely rubbish at writing descriptions so I'm just gonna put, like, the first two paragraphs- "Now change back." The voice came over the speakers. I was in a room made entirely of metal with a one way window covering one wall. I shifted on my paws and gave a low whine. "It's okay, John, take your time." Her voice was slightly strained. I barked, knowing that she was just trying to be courteous. I focused my attention on my regular form, closing my eyes and sitting on my haunches. I felt an electric current pass through my body and my eyes shot open. "Changed!" I hollered out, as if my voice would make the pain fade quicker. The metal felt cold on my bare body, "Evidently clothes don't come with the changing." I stayed laying down as I heard the cheers from the speakers. I HAVE NO CLUE WHERE THE CRAP I AM GOING WITH THIS STORY SO IT MIGHT INCLUDE SMUT AND IT MIGHT NOT! JUST KNOW DEFINITELY SOME FLUFF AND MORIARTY ANTICS!

Boredom drove me to write a prompt for the picture that I used as the cover. So yeah, it's nice and fluffy :)

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.

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