thesoldiersson

+ thesoldiersson

He had always been rather queer whenever she’d wandered around, and she was convinced he must have been there all the time – after all, she wasn’t quite a frequent visitor, and yet she managed to see him more than once. He wasn’t as transient as the public on the street; not at all like Father had described them, and that had piqued her interest. 

So Alexis, as she always had been, was curious about the anomaly, finding herself looking for some kind of clue to why he was there. It seemed to no avail, however, but she made no effort to approach him, figuring it would be easier to busy herself with… watching. 

we're kind of....pregnant ¦ thesoldiersson

Lizzie paced nervously, waiting for Hamish to arrive at the house. She didn’t really know how to break the news. Probably best just to blurt it out, really. Four positive tests lay on the table and she’d been to the doctor aswell, had a blood test taken - and her bloody defective implant removed. Apparently it could happen. They could fail and you could end up pregnant.

Positive. Positive. Positive. Positive. Positive.

The four tests and the slip of paper with the word on it stare at her as she waits for Hamish to arrive. She just about manages a small smile when she hears the door, and calls him down to the dining room.

"I would have gotton out a bottle of champagne." she says when he arrives down to her, holding the glass of juice in her hand tightly. "But it turns out I’m not allowed to drink again for seven more months." Lizzie chews her lip. "Hamish? I’m kind of…pregnant." She swallows and looks at the boy, willing him to say somethig. "We’re going to be parents."

First Day of School||thesoldiersson

thesoldiersson:

Hamish was getting impatient. He had been up for at least two hours, had gotten himself dressed (his sweater vest was on backwards and the buttons were half undone, but he was dressed!) and had even tried to wash his hair by himself. He only had hand soap and a bottle of water at his disposal, but it was a valiant effort!

He sighed and knocked on his father’s door. He had known Sherlock was long gone at eight in the morning since he had patted him on the head on his way out, making a face at the substance that now stuck to it.

“Daddy! Let’s go!” he whined, tapping the toe of his nice new shoes against the door. “I wanna go to school!”

John was making sure he had everything for his day at the clinic, after the late night he and Sherlock had had on the case they were working on. He heard the knock, and looked at his watch and swore under his breath, grabbing his case. He hurried out of the bedroom and found Hamish waiting for him, looking like he’d tried so hard.

"Hamish.. Christ. Come here, let me fix your shirt," he said, kneeling down to straighten the buttons and took off his vest to turn it right side out. He took a look at his hair and pulled a comb out of his case to comb his hair to something looking more resembling a good hairstyle, and not too geeky. "Alright, love. Where’s your backpack?"

Haunting Memories

It had been a strange day for John Watson. He’d spent eight or so hours at the clinic and then on the way home, stopped at Sherlock’s grave. These days, he wasn’t sure why he did so, but it grounded him into remembering why he was doing all of this, even with Sherlock alive and in and out of his life. Mary’d left him with their son, after having to deal with John and Sherlock’s .. well. Whatever they’d become after Sherlock made himself known. And now John had had to raise Hamish, and he worried every day that his son would learn poorly from him. That his dangerous lifestyle would hurt him, and that his - well. Love, for Sherlock would hurt the boy somehow.

On his way back to the flat from the cemetery, he picked up takeaway from him and Hamish, knowing Sherlock wouldn’t be back for a week or so, Hopefully he’d made it home from his friend’s house alright.

amnesia

She’d started to worry…

Two days without contact from him, without so much as a text or a call or a visit. That was….unusual. Since meeting, since they’d first exchanged numbers, the two hadn’t been out of contact for more than a few hours. But she’d told herself not to worry, and then a brief appearence by her parents had put Hamish to the back of her mind. The worry had come back though the next morning when still she hadn’t heard anything and her parents had left home again.

She passed most of the day on the couch, twisting and squirming and then deciding to get up and clean the house for something to do.

He would text. He would call. He would come over. He’d probably just gotton caught up in a family thing and his phone had gone missing. That was it, it had to be it.

Around three she was back on the couch, half paying attention to Come Dine With Me, when the doorbell rang. She actually squealed before she ran to the door, pulling it open and jumping at the boy. “About time, you fool!” She says, hugging him tightly and pressing kisses to his face. “I missed you. I was worried.”

Something was wrong, his hands hadn’t come up to wrap around her and he hadn’t returned the kisses. “Mishy?” she asks, “What’s wrong, love?”

Cuddle Buddy || Hamish + Alexis

Alexis was working in her room, peering at the screen of her laptop as she filtered through the information on a new task Mycroft had mailed her in the morning. It wasn’t high on the list of priorities and urgent cases, not really, but she appreciated having some grip on the work she was expected to do.

Besides, it gave her a pleasant distraction from the nerves that threatened to kick in, knowing that Hamish was on his way over; she simply focused on facts. Figures. Calming things that wouldn’t send her into unnecessary panic over something she hadn’t even done.

Er, yet. 

thesoldierssonreplied to yourpost:I think you’d be a knight and a king, dad. I don’t really know how chess works, but the king rules all and a knight is loyal, strong, and brave. All the things you are and what you’ve taught me.

Hey, you keep me and the consulting idiot under control. I think that’s kingly material

Be respectful. And that’s more of a knight thing anyhow. A king would’ve just had you executed.

+thesoldiersson

Have to piss. Really have to piss. Fuck.

Luke tended to avoid public bathrooms at all costs. It was safer and simpler to just go before he left the house. Only he hadn’t, and then he drank an entire bottle of water, and now he was stuck facing one of his worst fears. Hesitating slightly, he chose the men’s bathroom. Some ethereal entity or spiritual deity- whatever it was, must have been looking out for him. No one else stood in the bathroom apart from him. One less bit of bullshit to deal with-

Of course someone else had to walk in. Luke never had good luck with these things. He knew he shouldn’t care, just go about his business- but he hated looking like a pansy by going into a stall to piss. 

He couldn’t help being jealous of the guy. Blonde hair, tan skin, good build, muscular, defined jawline, broad shoulders, attractive- everything Luke wanted to be and more. 

Coffee Orders ¦¦ thesoldiersson

Lizzie was in a bit of a rush, so not really paying attention to what was going on around her as she waited for her coffee to be passed out to her. Okay, not really in a rush, but she wasn’t in the mood to wait around while the idiots behind the counter messed up her order again. Not as if it was so hard really.

Frapuccino, lots of coffee, lots of chocolate, lots of chocolate, not much caramel syrup and whipped cream on top of it. Was that really so hard to remember? Apparently it was.

After an age her order is finally put out and she picks the plastic cup up, reaching for a straw as she notices a boy about her age giving her an odd look. She’s turned away, prepared to ignore him when she hears him ask, “So your name is Hamish too then?”

She frowns, and looks down at the cup before noticing the name scrawled across the plastic and she sighs. “Sorry,” Lizzie turns back to him. “Didn’t notice.. wasn’t really looking.” She offers a sheepish grin as she runs a hand through her ginger hair, tucking a strand back. “I haven’t drank any, but I’ll buy you a new one, if you life.” She holds the cup out to him. “I’m going to assume you’re Hamish?”

A Mistake [Hamish & Sherlock]

Sherlock didn’t know what had possessed him to do something like this. The genius was stupefied by it. His relationship with Hamish was shaky enough, and he didn’t need to bring up his damn past with drugs into it all. Hamish hadn’t lived an easy life, by any means, but so far, Sherlock had managed to separate the boy and his drug life into two distinct areas. 

He supposed that, since John and Hamish were supposed to be out for a few hours (where were they going, again? Ah, it didn’t matter), he would have enough time. There had always been a stash in the flat. If John knew of this, his partner would probably kill him. Or, at least, give him that stern disapproving look that crumbled Sherlock inwardly. Either way, the needle was taken out and filled, and the plunger pushed. 

What happened next was just a slightly euphoric blur.

He remembered John and Hamish coming home early. He remembered John dropping to his knees and shaking his shoulder. He remembered rolling his eyes around to rest on Hamish, and then, he couldn’t remember a thing at all. Feeling had gone by the wayside at that point - he couldn’t remember feeling ashamed, guilty, frightened, unhappy. Just the rush of too much too much too much, and his heart slowing down. 

It didn’t even occur to him that he had just overdosed.

Not until he had woken, anyway. When he had opened his eyes, he was vaguely aware of the too-pristine environment. Simple deduction, then - overdose. Usually that wouldn’t unnerve him too much. His last overdose had been pre-John, and the only person who had been there was Mycroft. Now, however, he had a husband and a son. He was nervous about how they’d react. Moving himself up on his elbows (and trying not to unravel the various IVs and tubes running around his body, his eyes fell on his son - his husband was absent.

just because you may be in a bad mood doesn’t mean you get to bully people

seriously tho, if you continue to make snide remarks and make someone WHOM I CARE FOR DEEPLY feel bad, I will not hesitate to come after you and make you feel the same.

this is bullshit and i’m sick and tired of seeing it.  please kindly cease and desist. 

M!A I'm a boy ¦ thesoldiersson

lizziewsmoran:

Lizzie rolls over in her bed, head pounding. She’d drank too much the night before. She groans and pulls a hand across her face as she sits up. She frowns. No, that wasn’t right…her arm felt different.

A hand goes to her hair to fix it and her eyes widen. Where the fuck had her hair gone?!
“Shit.”

She jumps out of bed, nearly tripping over her feet as she runs to the mirror. Everything felt…weird and wrong and completely out of preportion. She actually screams seeing her reflection.

“I’m a boy?! Fuck. What happened last night…”
He frowns and goes to find his phone, picking it up and firing out a quick text to anyone who he thought might come.

[text] Something’s happened. Bit confused. Can you come over?

Texts from Lizzie at seven in the morning were either extremely good or extremely bad Hamish had learned. And when he read the latest, he grew concerned. 

[Text] Yu alright? s early. Wantme to bing food/

He sent the message then read it before sighing. Texting right after having woke up was not his strongsuit.

[Text] Let me know if you need translation.

~~

[text: Mush] Uh, yeah, bring food. I’m gonna take a shower and try figure some stuff out. See you soon babe.

He sends the text and then walks to the shower. It’s only when he’s been in there for twenty minutes, and after having had a long stare at the /thing/ between his legs, he realises that he has no clothes that will fit this body.

He’s out of the shower before Hamish arrives and with a towel wrapped around his  waist Lizzie goes to look through the wardrobe, eventually finding some clothes of Hamish’s that would fit. Once dressed, Lizzie goes to lay back down on his bed, sighing. “I don’t want to be a boy.”