3- However, the blond was hers – second cousin’s nephew, thrice removed on her sister’s side – and sensible as well as experienced. He recognised the symptoms, despite being a tad incapacitated, and pried himself loose long enough to warn the brother, if belatedly, to lock themselves away for a couple of days to be safe. Then, nothing left to do but let Nature take its course. If Nanny Ogg’s cakes were legendary, her brews were twice as famous; it was nearly a week before the fumes died down.

I kind of love that this has become a thing, too. Actually both things. *laughs* Good to see John’s still got his head on straight under the influence. Well, I say straight…

2- She never expected that the tall one – some third or fourth cousin of Granny’s, or so Nanny Ogg did her best to recall, what with all the twice-removeds, steps, and halfs in the middle – would send his elder brother a fat slice to taunt him. Nor did she find out till later that said brother shared his slice with that charming silver-haired constable, or whatever rank he held (who kept up with fiddly details on that side anyway?). Just another twist of Fate, or one of that lot, being clever.

Oh, I see what you did there.. *giggles* I love this askfic so much….. (*makes grabby hands for more*)

1- It was probably Greebo’s fault, but Nanny Ogg wouldn’t blame her one-eyed darling (she was the only person in the universe who still saw a sweet fluffy kitten rather than an auxiliary member of the apocalypse club sans horse), so she told herself that an errant breeze had tipped the remainder of her bottle of Passion’s Philtre into the cake mix. Trouble was, Nanny didn’t notice the ‘scene of the crime’ till after the cake had been delivered. Good thing those two lads were fond of each other.

Oh god, this is a thing now, isn’t it? We’ve made this a thing… (Actually, I find I’m completely okay with that, if one were to judge by the grin I can’t quite drop :D) But, Random- Random, you wrote for my crossover! Let me love you~! *HUGS*

*For the unfamiliar – which I would assume to be nearly everyone – this askfic is directly related to this, this and an as yet unposted Discworld crossover that I keep writing teasers for. XD

coeykuhn:

Oh my.
Well that’s certainly not cocaine, then wtf did you take sherlock.

-COEY!
bug creeping up behind him just makes me think of doctor who/donna . __ . ;;;;
___

kittkin:

the-fisher-queen:

ishipjohnlock247:

jessamygriffith:

Can you repair me? by ~NamesroH

Pictures needing stories.

love this soooo much!

This interests me greatly. the lighting is superb, for one thing.

yes, someone far more talented than me should be writing a ficlet for me.

[Alright, I never post any original content at all, but this pic made me flail because I started a cyberpunk Sherlock AU thing ages ago where Sherlock was an android and John did repair work on them. It’s only a few paragraphs, I wrote it right before I fell asleep one night, tumblr might as well have it.]

Up close, the synthetic skin was simultaneously perfect and all wrong. It was too smooth, too uniform. No bags under the eyes, no small pockmarks from those frustrating bouts of teenage acne, no creases around the nose and mouth that would mark the beginnings of laugh or frown lines. It hit me then, like it always did, that it’s imperfections that make a face human, and I wondered why the illusion ever worked in the first place.

“Don’t be predictable.”

I flinched in surprise at the new voice, my hand jumping to the gun at my hip. Behind me, Mike swore, but I barely heard him. The bot had spoken, and when I took a quick look at its eyes I saw bright grey irises rotate as internal lenses refocused. How long had it been online, just laying on the table and watching us watch it?

“Since you came in,” it said, reading the obvious question off my face. Its thin lips quirked up in a ghost of a smirk. “Shouldn’t have bothered. It’s so boring watching you all go through the same existential cri-i-isis.”

It reached up with its covered, undamaged hand and rubbed its throat like a man with a bad cold. “Sorry, verbal cor-or-ortexes still coming online.”

“It shouldn’t be up at all…” Mike muttered, his fingers flying over a screen.

Kit. KIT! You wrote fic! *hugs this ficlet* Now what do I have to do to get more? *makes puppy eyes*

dethorats:

Hey lady-karasu, just wanted to wish you a belated birthday and let you know that there is a pathetic excuse for a birthday present, in the form of a rambling and disjointed and fluffy fic, over on lj. Also, a package to be mailed later. XP

What? What? I get birthday fic? *running glomp* I love you sweetie – really, honestly do. Didn’t actually expect you to write me anything, I was just teasing you, but I’ll tell you where I’m going right now. Yes, livejournal. And it will be amazing, because your fic is always amazing – and shut your mouth, yes it is 😉 And a package to look forward to is always nice. ^_^ (You know I’m still finding things I meant to put in your christmas package? o_O) Wheeeee~!

random-nexus replied to your post: 3. “What if you make me miss?” Moran asked, voice even despite Jim’s soft fingers on his firming cock. _ “Dunno, Sebby, I’d say better not miss,” Moriarty replied in a low singsong, rubbing his cheek against the middle of Moran’s back like a cat as he stroked him off. “I might have to get creative with you, my dear,” he added with dark anticipation. _ When the ‘right moment’ came, Moran didn’t miss. Minutes later, cheek pressed against his rifle, Jim pressed against his back, Moran came, too. X

Nernight, then, m’dearie. This was your bedtime story. ;D Glad you liked.

My dear, it was a /lovely/ bedtime story. It will also be a lovely in the morning story, and probably a few more times tomorrow story. Absolutely enamored with this little gem, thank you. *gives you happy I-love-my-present hugs* ^_^