DID SOMEBODY SAY TEEN BALLET!LOCK/RUGBYPLAYER!JOHN??
Okay so I saw this wonderful piece by shootbadcabbies and my hand slipped. Like 12k slipped. But I figure I owe her for all the torment I’ve put her through with My Heart Is True As Steel, plus, look at how cute they are!! So, here is my attempt at ballet!lock/rugby!john. I’ll start at the beginning and then put a link to the rest at the bottom, as well as the top if you click through the title (which is the biggest cliche, I know, but, god help me, I couldn’t help myself).
Pas de Deux
Sherlock looked down at the piece of paper in his hand, a reassuring gesture even though he had already memorized the numbers.
16, 7, 3
He huffed, not quite enough derision left in him for another full-bodied snort. When he had said he wanted to be moved as far away from Andrew Hornigutt as possible, he hadn’t been speaking literally, but the secretary in the office had it out for him ever since he had revealed that her husband was having an affair with the barista at the local coffee shop, so she had simply clicked her red varnish and smacked her red lips and grinned at him with a poisonous promise that it would be taken care of.
Which was how Sherlock Holmes found himself walking to a locker at the very end of the Year 13 corridor in the sixth form section of the secondary school that amounted to a private wing where angels—or at least Year 11s like himself—feared to tread. Not that he was afraid, of course.
He hitched his shoulder bag up a little higher, checking the numbers again. They remained the same: Locker 221, combination 16, 7, 3. Surely it couldn’t be much further. Glancing up to his right, he watched as the odd numbers steadily climbed, focusing on the shifting digits instead of the curious eyes. Finally, he found it, and, after fumbling a bit and having to restart, flung open the black locker door, a small but present barrier between him and the whispers. It wasn’t that he cared what they said, but it did wreak havoc on one’s concentration when mutterings of your name kept pulling you out of your thoughts, and there were certainly plenty of mutterings. No more than usual, however—the typical politically incorrect slurs and jeers—and Sherlock, for the most part, put it out of his mind.
He swung his bag around to the floor in front of him, placing it over his polished shoes. Slowly, he began unloading the little he had needed to move from his old locker, taking care not to accidentally pull out the wrapped bundle as he removed his books.
“Hey,” greeted a voice from just the opposite side of his fortress wall, startling him into dropping the notebooks he had been preparing to stack inside. “Oh, shit, sorry! Didn’t mean to scare ya.”
“You didn’t,” Sherlock muttered, kneeling to the floor to begin gathering the books and scattered papers that had sprung loose from them.
A small chuckle drifted down to him, coming closer as the generator bent beside him on the floor. “So you just make a habit of dropping things when people say hello?”
Sherlock rolled his eyes down at his chemistry homework as he slid the sheet just inside the front cover of the blue notebook. “I find it often discourages further conversation,” he snapped, but the voice only chuckled again.
“And how’s that working out for ya?”
“At present? Not particularly…well…” Sherlock blinked, lips hovering open before he had the presence of mind to snap them shut and swallow hard, dropping his head again, because the boy kneeling down on the ground beside him, tan hands helping swipe Sherlock’s notes off the floor, was none other than John Watson. Blond-haired, blue-eyed, cheerleader-dating, straight-A-making John Watson, captain of the rugby team and of every girl’s daydreams.
Sherlock was going to tell the secretary about her husband’s previous affair with the nanny after all, he decided.
John ‘Golly gee willikers!’ Watson beamed at him, and Sherlock tried fiercely to overrule his brain’s command to his palms to start sweating. “Yeah, well, we all have off-days,” he shrugged, eyes sparkling. “Here.” He held out the pile of Sherlock’s papers—all out of order, but Sherlock wasn’t inclined to mention it. “Looks like some pretty hard stuff. What are you taking?”
“Separate Sciences,” Sherlock replied, a little softer than intended as he took the offered pages, tucking them away inside whichever notebook his hand found first, “and all the usual ones as well.”
John tilted his head, a puzzled crease forming between his brows, and then his face stretched with realization. “Oh, you’re from the lower school, yeah? Not sixth form?”
Sherlock nodded, John following as he pushed to his feet. He was not as tall as Sherlock had thought whenever he had seen him from a distance. Sherlock was actually taller, albeit only by a couple inches, but he was still growing. “Year 11,” he replied, not entirely sure why he was still indulging this conversation. He usually made his insults and then escapes by now.
John smiled again, and the decision suddenly made a lot more sense.
This is my absolutely perfect and fantastic commission from shootbadcabbies! I asked for hipster genderfluid teenlock revealing to John for the first time that xer genderfluid in John’s bedroom and I got something so much more incredible than I could have ever imagined! Thank you soooo much!
yes, I really want to finish it! I’m just still busy with finishing all my commissions, but I’m planning to continue the challenge right after!
wait you think my art style changed? really? in what way
they know a bit, but they’ve never seen anything. they dont really understand it and find it kinda weird, but that’s always been their reaction to all my interests. they’ve come to terms with it and have accepted my weirdness
as most of you know, my pup elvis is sick with bladder stones. my original plan was to save up as much as i can before the end of august which was when the vet and i decided we needed to do the surgery or else risk elvis getting sicker. but thursday afternoon, elvis started yelping and crying at any sudden movements and couldn’t pee very well, crying while he tried. he went to the vet yesterday and they had to insert a catheter into him to push back a stone that had blocked him up back into his bladder. this is a temporary fix and we scheduled his surgery for this coming thursday. i can’t safely put this off any longer.
i have a total of $727.39 saved up thanks to you guys and your kind donations. the vet gave me a break and is allowing me to pay $800 up front and to set up a payment plan to pay the remaining $700.
i only need to raise $72.61 for me to reach my first goal of $800 for tomorrow! you guys have been so incredibly helpful and i can’t even thank you guys enough for helping me and my lil pup out!
my entire paycheck for last week went to his vet bill from last friday which included the procedure they did, a urinalysis, and blood work, or else i would have had the $800 already. i know that not everybody is financially able to donate to my pup’s fund, but reblogs and signal boosts help too!
* mindpalaceofversailles is doing booty bucks to help raise funds! with proof of a donation of $2 or more, cayla will draw you a personalized booty of your choice! (who doesn’t like booties with your name on them??
* there is a donation button on my side bar if you don’t want a booty, but would still like to help!!
everybody go and help out by donating to my friends’ lil soldier!
short lil update time
I’m sorry I’ve been absent, its been a couple very stressful weeks/days so I wasnt really able to answer any of your lovely messages which makes me feel very guilty (really. thank u they always improve my day a lot ilu) but i’ll get to that soon!
to everyone thats still waiting for their commission: IM SO SORRY I tried very hard to finish as many as I could before I leave but I didnt quite succeed. tomorrow I’ll be leaving for a festival for five days, but I’ll sit my butt down and start working as soon as I get back home, I promise!
aaaand yeah thats it, just wanted to say #not dead and I love you and want to kiss all of your cute cheeks and slap your butts and all that fun stuff
see you soooooooon