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Snowed Inn
http://archiveofourown.org/works/13143210
“She’s not coming whilst we’re on holiday,” Sherlock insisted, and his tone brooked no argument. “I refuse to consider it. She’s staying put until we are safely back in London, and not a minute before. She’s waited four extra days, she can wait another two."
Queening
“Gestation length for servals is seventy-four days,” Sherlock informed John one morning, tearing into his bacon sandwich.
John’s brow furrowed and he looked up at Sherlock, sipping at his coffee. “Thanks for that tidbit,” he said. “What, are we expecting a litter?”
http://archiveofourown.org/works/12406890
To His Own Devices
A commission!
“No. No, no, no,” he gasped, lurching forward and getting clumsily to the floor to pick up his shattered mobile. Pieces of glass were missing now, and the screen was totally dead, the phone silent - the ringer had stopped mid-tone. Sherlock’s heart plummeted into his stomach as he realized that he had no way of reaching John now, let alone the midwife. The nearest pay phone was blocks away, Speedy’s closed for the afternoon and Mrs. Hudson’s apartment locked.
He was alone. And the baby was coming.
http://archiveofourown.org/works/11429835
Man’s Best Friend
http://archiveofourown.org/works/10934412
“Britt,” Sherlock replied, absently, and the puppy twisted to look up at him as though she recognized her name. She put a paw on Sherlock’s chest, as high as she could reach, and licked his chin. A tear streaked down Sherlock’s cheek and Britt’s blanket fell to the floor as he lifted her up and let her lick all over his face and cheeks, laughter bubbling up from his chest for the first time in months. “John - you - this is why you’ve been, why you’ve…”
"I, erm, wanted it to be a surprise. Seems like you needed someone to take care of, and I thought she…she might help, a bit.”
Britt’s cold nose was in Sherlock’s ear, but he didn’t mind. He scratched her neck, her long red-brown hair soft under his fingers. He couldn’t stop smiling. “You got me a puppy,” he said.
Snips and Snails
http://bit.ly/2ljif6l
John looked at Sherlock narrowly as he sank down with a groan. “You know it’s time,” he said a little accusingly.
“I know I was due two days ago and it could be time,” Sherlock said archly, settling in next to John and tugging his oversized shirt down.
John pulled a face, grumbling, and settled back into the sofa with his arms crossed. “You’re taking all the fun out of it, you know. All I wanted out of this was to look at you and say ‘is it time?’ and for you to look back and say ‘it’s time.’ Like, proper dramatics, this time, instead of ‘oh. my waters have broken. those must have been contractions.’”
“In my defense, I’d never had a baby before, and I’d had enough false alarms that I didn’t want to say anything for fear of being wrong again. Sue me for wanting to be sure.”
“Of all the times not to be dramatic - you, the biggest drama queen in all of London -“
“If you don’t stop, I’ll wait until he’s crowning before I inform you that our second child is on its way,” Sherlock threatened, throwing a look at John.
------
I wrote this like a year ago and forgot to post it. Enjoy!
Oh God, It's Happening
Summary: John rushes home from a trip when he receives news of Sherlock being in the hospital. He then sees that a very special someone has arrived earlier than expected. Warnings: Mpreg. Don't like don't read
John runs through the doors of the hospital, brushing past anybody that may be in his way. He hurriedly presses the elevator button and enters, fanning himself since he had not taken off his coat yet. As soon as he heard about Sherlock, he was immediately booking the next flight back to London. The elevator finally stopped on his floor. John runs down the corridor and into the waiting room, where he sees Lestrade wringing his hands and looking at the clock.
"How is he?” John asks frantically, completely out of breath.
"No word, yet,” replies Lestrade.
John is about to reply when a slightly disheveled looking Mycroft enters the room, looking tired but with a small smile on his face.
"Oh, Mycroft, how is he?" John asks, rushing over to the older Holmes brother.
"I think you should come in and see for yourself," Mycroft replies. "You'll be able to go in, since I'm outside. Only two guests are allowed at once, and Mrs. Hudson is already in there. He's in room 233."
"Okay, thank you," John says, walking past Mycroft and going down the hallway of the hospital. He reaches the door and knocks. He hears Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson talking before Mrs. Hudson says, "come in."
John walks in and his heart almost stops when he sees what greets him. Behind Mrs. Hudson is his beautiful Sherlock, who looks as radiant as ever despite looking pale, sweaty, and exhausted. But John's jaw drops when he looks down and lays his eyes on the tiny bundle in Sherlock's arms.
"Oh, Sherlock," John sighs, walking over to kiss his husband. "I'm so sorry I missed her birth."
"She's impatient," Sherlock sighs lovingly, stroking the baby's head. "Two and a half weeks earlier than scheduled. Besides, it was fine, Mrs. Hudson and Mycroft helped me out with the delivery. I must admit, I am pretty sore though."
"Have you named her yet?" John asks, staring at his new daughter in awe.
"I wanted to wait for you, but I had something in mind," Sherlock replies. "Johanna Harriet Watson."
"Oh, Sherlock, its perfect," Mrs. Hudson cries.
"You want to name her after me?" John asks.
"Of course," Sherlock replies. "Do you like it?"
I love it," John replies. "It's very fitting for her. Baby Jo Watson."
"Would you like to hold her?" Sherlock asks, offering John their sleeping daughter. John simply nods in awe as the fluffy pink bundle is placed in his arms.
John stares open-mouthed at Jo in complete awe of her. He touches her tiny face and head, and holds her itty bitty hands. He then holds his breath as he sees her begin to stir and worries that she's about to start crying when she opens her eyes, but she simply blinks and stares up at her daddy.
"Hello, little one," John says, in a slightly choked-up voice. "I'm your daddy. I love you very much."
Jo simply blinks before grabbing onto John's finger and not letting go before falling back to sleep.
2015 Writing Tag
The incomparable @songlin tagged me in this and honestly I am so flattered I just can’t anymore
In January I was recovering from the new season and didn’t write anything.
In February, I posted a fic co-written by an old roleplay partner and it was fucking hilarious.
In March, I wrote and posted the final installment of my On the House series, Ours Truly, which was commissioned by a reader. I also wrote and posted a Fawnlock fanfic which was commissioned by consultinghomos, who I would tag if she hadn’t deleted her Tumblr.
In April, I turned 22.
In May, I graduated college, started my new job, and posted a guest chapter of @okbutjusthisonce ‘s RFU series, HUNNY. I also wrote a funny fic that was originally meant to be a one-shot but which turned into a two-chapter story that I still love.
In June, I posted a sweet wedding one-shot written for @downdeepinside.
In July, I wrote a commission for the wonderful @bulecelup titled Not Made of Glass.
I would say that August was a myth mainly because I finally managed to buffalo @songlin into being my friend under the pretense that I am a cool person.
In September, I indulged an awful, awful kink of mine and wrote a delicious stuffing fic which makes my toes curl and my cheeks flush.
In October, I finished another commission for consultinghomos and it was adorable.
In November, I posted two fics - one I wrote myself that was a parentlock fic and truthfully cavity-inducing, and one I co-wrote with the incredible @songlin that brought many folks to tears, myself included.
And now, in December, I have posted a few things. Another sweet parentlock fic with an exquisite labor and birth scene, and a fic with a Christmas birth (in a horse stable!) that Songlin egged me on to write after I said I wanted to write a Christmas fic. I refuse to apologize for the title.
I can’t thank my readers (fans?) enough for the support they’ve shown me throughout these three years. It’s hard to imagine that three years ago, the Anna who shamefully wrote amateur kink porn in her dorm room would have written so many fics, made so many friends, and helped so many people to completion. I’m proud, unashamedly so. Sherlock is an integral part of my life, and I plan to continue writing not-so-amateur kink porn for many years to come.
I would like to tag @downdeepinside, @beautifulfic (who I’m sure has already been tagged), @likes-timelords and @emptycel for this.
If you want to read some stats that I really did for my own benefit, click the read-more.
MRRRYRYR CHRSIMSSMSSS
I wrote you all a fanfic. In continuing the tradition of an annual Christmas birth, this year Sherlock gives birth in a literal barn. It's like the Christmas story, only blasphemous. This one is my Christmas present to @songlin.
DECK THE STALLS.
No apologies for the title. I had so many bad puns. Here's a bad joke I came up with. What detergent do elves use to wash their clothes? YULE-TIDE. I am sorry for that one.
