The Johnlock Party

[johnlockparty]

this is making me cringe so much holy shit.. ive repressed the memories of this era

it will never leave you just linger and haunt your dreams when you least expect it

[johnlockparty]

Heyy, I'm not a huge fan of my super old art being published after all this time, any chance you could delete it? Thanks!

i would have to go through like 70 pages and sift through them and pick out your specific submissions and delete each of them individually.

and i have more people asking me the same so i'd literally have to go back and forth multiple times and find the same submissions for others as well

???

the blog has like a bit over 100 followers now (most people unfollowed) and you are under no obligation to reblog or like your posts

at this point it’s really more of an archive than an interactive platform

like I don’t mean to be a dick but literally part of the reason why it took this long is because i was handling thousands of submissions alone individually and going through every single one to edit and proofread and correct them so they’d be easily accessible

it’s like a lot of work?? at this point I’d rather have them be available at all, than wait and go through them like it’s just not realistic this is the first party and I was still getting the hang of things so a lot of things were not able to be organized without extensive individual effort

so my point is like im really sorry you don’t like it, it’s definitely not just you that probably feels that way, but I’ve had so many people asking me to publish them and so here they are.

like if it’s honestly THAT bad like you really really absolutely need them gone from your sight, then i guess I’ll try to oblige but???

it’s 3 years old and is mainly meant at this point for accessibility if needed and mild nostalgia.

[johnlockparty]

prompt 5-7 and bonus prompts for shernanigans are next (◉‿◉✿)

we're not done yet kiddies

[hauntedchronicler]

for reference this was before season 2 of sherlock had even aired all of this stuff is SOOOOO OLLLLLLLLDDDDDDDDDDD

[hauntedchronicler]

post-fandom sherlock nostalgia party 2k15 the goal is whichever team can steal all of the prize

[hauntedchronicler]

WHOS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS WAVE OF 2011 NOSTALGIA

[johnlockparty]

It have to be crack? like anything goes but still crack or just anythings go?

November 30th 2011, 7:22:00 pm · 3 years ago

[johnlockparty]

What happened to posting the rest of the posts? XD <3

February 20th 2012, 1:47:00 pm · 3 years ago

it is done

3 years late, it is done

[johnlockparty]

Are the rest of the submissions ever going to be published? Some people are still waiting to see our work come up :(

sent: July 14th 2012, 11:46:00 am · 2 years ago

yes

[johnlockparty]

Team Red; KonspiracyKid

By: konspiracykid

The Mansion (Lyrics)

Take what you need while there’s time The city will be earth in a short while If I’m not mistaken it’s been in flames You and I will escape to Reichenbach There is no hope for resistance

He’s made it clear that it’s useless to us

There is a mansion, over the river You and I will be safe there There is a man who haunts that mansion He saved me, I was running Pulled me from the cliff’s edge Up on the threshold, he told a story

Of losing a lover He calls a warning Love, you have become paranoid The Leadership will cover our tracks

The city is burning The sirens are searching Our only chance is the mansion His lover was a doctor He went and he waited there Moriarty showed his face

Lover never knew he survived there

Gave him a new chance to live life without threat, how uninteresting We went in, we climbed up and looked out A strong wind on the rooftop

Three ghosts in a mansion

[johnlockparty]

Memory

“John…?” Sherlock’s deep voice called but it sounded so distant. Everything was black. Night? He reached out but his arms refused move. Panic shot through him. All he remembered was the pool and the explosion. Sherlock.  He tried to scream but nothing would come out. He couldn’t hear or see anything. ”John!” A deep voice broke through the haze and he hunted for the sound. Trying to locate it. ”-lock…” He managed though his mouth felt cracked and dry. His entire body tingled and felt sore. ”John, this is your doctor can you hear me?” Doctor? No. That meant something had gone wrong. They were supposed to jump in the pool together. They were supposed to come up and be fine. Where was Sherlock? He began to struggle more fitfully realizing that his arms were held down by something-straps. Light flooded his vision and presented him with a pair of confused blue eyes. “Sherlock?” He managed but the vision was fleeting and back into the dark he went. He came and went constantly calling his companion’s name, desperate for some kind of sign that he was alive and well. He caught snatches of Sherlock’s name around him but nothing he could make sense of. ”-He keeps saying Sherlock.” A low voice whispered from near his left. ”-not real.” Another voice, lighter, not the man from before. “Confused.” No. He wasn’t confused. Sherlock was real. What the Hell were they on. Someone couldn’t just make up Sherlock Holmes. He was too extraordinary for one man to dream up. Time passed so randomly he didn’t know where to turn. One moment there would be a doctor the next there would be a nurse. The lights would change back and forth so fast that he didn’t know if it was day or night or just some child playing with artificial lighting.

Blue Team 

“Sherlock?” He asked, much more lucid as he looked at the tall thin doctor in front of him. His accent was something from Afghanistan. The man gave him a sympatric look. “John Watson, correct? You have been shot in the shoulder. You nearly died.” He motioned to John’s shoulder where there were tons of bandages across his chest.  “You’ve been saying Sherlock. Is he a family member?” ”No… No, I was shot in Afghanistan. Sherlock was with me at the pool. Is he alright?” The man frowned, “Memory problems. There was no pool. You were shot in the line of duty.” John stared. He stared and then he closed his eyes and leaned back. He wouldn’t believe that. He refused. He went back to dreaming about Sherlock, deciding not to wake up.

[johnlockparty]

mycroft orange rachel4revenge

[johnlockparty]

star trek lock by mesita team orange prompt 7

The USS BAKER STREET orbited quietly around the unknown planet.

Captain Jim Moriarty, accompanied by First Officer Spocklock, Dr. Watson and a redshirt named Anderson, beamed down to the surface. Spocklock immediately pulled out his tricorder and began to take a few readings.

“Captain, it looks like there are some life forces, nearby.”

“Excellent, Spocklock.” Jim said surveying the landscape. “Let’s go and meet them.”

They made their trek across the countryside and came across a massive man-eating beast. It took one look at Anderson and ate him in a smooth gulp.

“DAMNIT JIM I’M A DOCTOR NOT A HAPPY MEAL!” Dr. Watson proclaimed.

“Gentlemen, set your phasers to BURNING HEARTS,” Jim cried!

But Sherlock deduced that the man-eating beast was also weak and used his nervepinch and everyone lived. Except Anderson. THE END.

[johnlockparty]

Ode to Jam (Team Anthea; deastrumquodvicis)

Jam, jam

O glorious jam

Thy strawberry reds

Thy grape purples

Thy orange oranges

Thy yellow pineapple

My life without you

Is incomplete

The end to all my means

My one true love

For after all

One cannot spell

John Watson

Without some of the letters

Of jam

[johnlockparty]

TEAM MYCROFT

ORANGE

RACHEL4REVENGE

BONUS PROMPT: Hamartia/Fatal Flaw

Molly’s ultimate weakness was her need for attention, even from an evil place.

[johnlockparty]

BONUS ROUND: Romanticism/Transcendentalism

Photoshop Crack

imbusymycroft, Team Pink

[johnlockparty]

Bloody Stupid (Team Pink, Fatal Flaw, arosynose)

“…and then, judging by the clean cut and the angle of it, the killer used paring shears to cut off the fingertips of the victim and disguise the body’s identity.”

“Oh, well done,” John breathed, and Sherlock gave a split-second smile.

“Simple, really. This person was clumsy, whoever they were, but extraordinarily paranoid. Speaking of which, Anderson, I wouldn’t open that closet if I were you.”

Anderson rolled his eyes and snorted. “Oh, please, Sherlock, I can handle whatever’s—”

“No, no you can’t, I really must advise you don’t—”

Anderson opened the door, and three things happened at once: Anderson screamed. Sherlock leapt towards Anderson. And a shovel fell from the closet.

The shovel was large, metal-spaded, and came down on Anderson’s head with deadly force. The forensic analyst hit the floor, and Sherlock was left holding the shovel he’d caught a second too late, staring at the glazed eyes of a dead man.

“Oh, God,” Donovan gasped, voice leaning towards shrill, and she ran from the room.

“I told him,” Sherlock said numbly, still staring at the shovel-shaped indent in Anderson’s head. “I told him, I told him to stay away from the closet, people this paranoid always have booby-traps, they always have booby-traps, and I told him, I tried to tell him to stay away. He wouldn’t listen, he didn’t listen to me.”

“Bloody hell,” Lestrade muttered, mouth covered with one hand.

John was the only one to move steadily towards Sherlock, taking the shovel from his hand and throwing it to the side, then forcing him to turn away from the body.

“He’s not dead because of you, Sherlock,” John said firmly. “It’s not your fault. You tried. He just didn’t listen.”

“But he thought I was belittling him again, I should’ve explained—”

“It’s Anderson’s own bloody stupidity that’s brought him down. And his arrogance. Hell, Sherlock, you tried to save him. You really did.”

And then the room fell silent, except for Sherlock, who gasped and gasped like he’d forgotten about the air.