Today is Anthony Ramos’ birthday and in honor of his happy day Nina has asked me to write a lil Lams fic! And how can I say no to her?! So she gave me a prompt, and this is what happened… of course it’s slightly angsty, but fear not, children–– there is PLENTY of cute ;))) Tw for discussion of depression! Your safety and mental health is much more important than a fic, kiddos! <333
John checked his phone for the fifth time in ten minutes. Still nothing from Alexander. Normally he was fine with not hearing from his boyfriend for a while. It happened frequently, with all the odd hours Alex pulled in the library studying and in the communications building, working on the school paper.
But John knew Alex wasn’t in the library, and he wasn’t working on the paper. He knew because when he’d asked Alex, Alex had said he wasn’t going to either place. When Laurens then asked where, exactly, he was going, Alex just smiled.
Well, he didn’t just smile. No. It was that face-eating, giggly, giddy grin that had so often graced his face when the two of them started dating. It still peeked out now and then, but nowhere near as often.
John knew it was silly, but he was worried. What was Alexander up to that he couldn’t tell John–– who he told everything–– about, and why was he grinning like that?
John hated where his mind went. He hated that he had that little self-confidence.
You’ve got so many issues. Of course he’s looking for someone better. You’ve seen the way he looks at Jefferson, at Eliza, at Maria. Hell, even at Burr sometimes. You were fun for him. But fun has to come to an end, and, naturally, that end is when the fun ain’t so fun anymore.
John thought of all the ways he was lacking. He had little self-confidence, a tendency to get into unnecessary fights, and lately he’d been pretty depressed. But he’d been hiding that from Alexander for the most part.
It’s because you let him in that one time last week. It’s because you let him see just a bit of your biggest weakness.
It had been a bad night. No, John had had bad nights. He’d struggled through those on his own for years. It had been an awful night. A night when every moment felt like pure agony. A night when he felt so, so tired, so weighed down, that he just wanted to sleep, but every time he shut his lids his mind sparked, catapulting thoughts in a million directions.
Alexander had found John standing in the hallway between their bedroom and the bathroom. He’d gotten out of bed to get a drink of water, or maybe even to make some tea, but as soon as he was up, he was so tired, yet he knew if he went back to bed, well… the cycle would start again.
“Babe, why’re you just standing there looking like a zombie?” Alex asked from the bedroom.
“I thought you were asleep,” John said.
“Ha, funny joke. I was drafting my next take-down of Jefferson’s outrageous ideas in preparation for the next student council meeting. But enough about me. Why’re you just standing there?”
“So tired.” Words felt like too much.
“Come back to bed, baby.”
“Can’t sleep.” His mouth was full of sand. His head was full of sand, too, and it was pulling him down. He just wanted to sink down, down, down…
When had Alexander gotten up? When had he placed his hands on John’s shoulders?
Alex guided John back to their bed and laid him down, then snuggled up next to him.
“I can’t cry,” John whispered.
“It’s okay,” Alex said.
“It’s been like this for months. Nothing makes me cry anymore.”
“Not even that video of the koalas I sent you?”
“No,” John said with a sigh.
Alex kissed his forehead. “It’ll be okay, baby. You’ll be able to cry again some day.”
John was jolted out of the memory by his phone buzzing. Finally.
Alabama Hammerman <3: Heeeey baby! I’m coming home in twenty. Be ready ;)
John Laurens: Be ready for what?
Alabama Hammerman <3: You’ll see! <3
John logically knew this was a good sign. Maybe Alex hadn’t been too freaked out by his depressive episode. Maybe he wasn’t thinking of the kindest way to ditch John.
He’s just waiting until after your birthday. He’s too nice to do it before then.
John’s birthday was in two days. His father had asked him to return home for it, and since it was on a Friday and his father was paying for the plane ticket, John didn’t have much grounds for protest. Alex had said they’d celebrate when John got back on Sunday night.
Alex was home faster than John had expected.
“Hey, babe! Ready?”
“Where’re we going?” John asked as Alexander took his hand and led him out the door.
“To that new cafe I was telling you about,” Alex said.
“Oh,” John said.
“What’s up?” Alex stopped and faced his boyfriend.
“Tell me the truth, Alex,” John whispered. “It’s okay.”
“What’re you talking about?”
“It’s okay if you’re… done with me. You don’t have to wait until after my birthday to end the relationship. I mean, I appreciate the gesture, but it’s fine. I’m sorry if I scared you the other nigh––”
“Woah, woah, John!” Alexander exclaimed. He grabbed both of his boyfriend’s hands in his own. “Where is this coming from?”
“You’ve been so evasive lately. I just figured that it had all been… too much. And that’s fine! I know I’m weak, a mess, pathetic––”
“John Laurens stop it!” Alex said. “You are none of those things. Why would you think that?”
“Because of last week, that one night!” John shouted as if it should be obvious.
Alex’s face fell. “Oh, baby, depression isn’t a weakness. It doesn’t make you a mess or pathetic. Come here.” Alex opened his arms and John fell into them. He wanted to cry. He felt like he needed to cry, but he couldn’t.
Alex stroked his hair for a moment. “I’m sorry I worried you. I really didn’t mean to. If you come with me I can explain everything.”
John nodded and let Alex lead him the few blocks to the cafe. Alex stopped John from going in. He pulled his boyfriend toward him and kissed him hard. “Happy birthday, baby,” he whispered as he pulled away.
Just then the door swung open. “SURPRISE!” the entire cafe shouted.
John looked from the various people gathered inside to Alexander, then back at the people. All of their friends were there, and even their non-friends, like Jefferson and Burr, were there with party hats atop their heads.
John turned back to Alex. “This is what you’ve been doing?” he whispered.
Alex grinned–– that giddy, giggly, goofy grin–– and nodded.
“Oh my god,” John said. “Oh my god.”
Before he knew it, John Laurens was crying.
Alex kissed the tears off of his freckled cheeks and ran his hands through John’s curls. “I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he murmured.
“No, no, it’s… I’m… they’re happy tears,” John said with a laugh. “And they’re tears,” he said with another laugh.
The boys knew that one good cry wasn’t the answer to John’s problems, but it was still a victory. And the face-eating smile on John’s freckled face was an even bigger victory.
They spent the afternoon laughing, drinking coffee, and eating the cake that Laf had baked for the special occasion. John unwrapped presents from his friends and let Alex fix as many bows as possible to his curly hair.
By the end of the afternoon, John had a plethora of bows on his head, an armful of turtle-themed goodies, and a huge smile on his face. Alex helped him carry his presents back to their apartment, then gathered John in his arms as soon as the gifts were set down.
“John?” he whispered.
“Alex?” John whispered back.
“I love you, John Laurens.”
John gasped. It was the first time Alex had said that to him. John had been longing to say it, but he’d been so afraid. He hadn’t understood how someone like Alex could like someone like him.
Whether he understood it or not, he knew it was the truth. And until he could understand that, he was going to take Alex’s word for it. That would be enough.
John took a deep breath, then said the very words that had been on the tip of his tongue for weeks now.
I know you’re an Army doctor, and you’ve been invalided home from Afghanistan. You’ve got a brother worried about you, but you won’t go to him for help, because you don’t approve of him, possibly because he’s an alcoholic, more likely because he recently walked out on his wife, and I know your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic, quite correctly, I’m afraid. That’s enough to be going on with, don’t you think? The name is Sherlock Holmes, and the address is 221B Baker Street. Afternoon.
Sherlock: Oh I’m a high functioning sociopath. *Rescues Watson from a fire* I don’t care about any human. *Screens his wedding guests* Humans are such dull and boring things. *Calls Watson the kindest and cleverest man he’s ever met* I don’t care about anyone. *Looks at Watson* Dang…
Requested by anon: I
would like to request a Sherlock x reader where he has been drugged and how
he’s really cute and a little dirty towards her in front of John. Haha like
while “high”. Just super fluffy and cute and maybe a little smutty/implied
smut/ a little dirty haha. I get if you’re too busy or don’t feel like writing
it, no problem. Love you. & anon: I have a request for you (if youre still taking..?) so sherlock
and john gets drunk and sherlock starts hitting on (and gets kissy and touchy)
on reader which has been her girlfriend for months xD
Pairing: Sherlock x reader.
Word count: 2,026
Warnings: Just like in “The sign of three” this things gives a lot of twists.
A/N: Drunk Sherlock and Watson are my fave, I loved this so much!
Sherlock and John weren’t the kind of men to get drunk
every week, however and because of the stress they had been put through in
their last case, they decided to go to the bar together.
At first it was just beer and talking
and complaining, but then, someone recognized Sherlock and decided to put a
little something on his beer which, added up to what he had already drunk,
ended up turning him into a dizzy, slurry mess.
John was drunk as well, but for a
different reason: he had mixed tequila with beer.
They walked – stumbled – their way back
to Baker Street. It wasn’t even ten o’clock when that happened, so both (Y/N)
and Mrs. Hudson were up and sharing a cup of tea while the boys came back,
doing all kinds of strange noises as they walked in that called both women’s
“What are you two doing here?” Mrs.
Hudson asked as she and (Y/N) walked out to the stair case where John and
Sherlock were laying. (Y/N) couldn’t help but to laugh at the image and the
sound of her laughter caught Sherlock’s attention.
“(Y/N)!” He cheered drunkenly, “AREN’T
YOU THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BEING ON EARTH?”
“Wow, someone’s loud tonight.” She joked
and Sherlock walked to her and held her tightly against his chest.
“You are sooooo beautiful!” He slurred,
“And so hot, would you be my girlfriend?”
“I am already your girlfriend, Sherlock.” (Y/N) spoke
clamly, unable to contain the giggle that left her lips.
“I’m such a lucky man I’m jealous of myself …”
Sherlock cupped her face and started kissing her passionately, like never
before. (Y/N) tried to pull away but Sherlock’s grip was tight and it wasn’t
until he needed air that he let go off her.
“You’re so drunk!” She giggled.
“And you’re stunning.” Sherlock mumbled,
“Delightful, splendid, a Greek muse right in front of me! DATING ME!”
“Sherlock Holmes is a poet when he’s
drunk, what are the chances!” Watson spoke from behind, right before he bursted
in a dry laughter. Mrs. Hudson laughed with him and then both women dragged
Molly couldn’t suppress the angry tears, or the accompanying frown. “How dare you?”
Sherlock gaped for a moment, wordless, before managing to speak. “I– I beg your pardon?”
“How dare you say such a thing?” She clenched her fists, her jaw; she squeezed her eyes shut. “I’ve told you countless times, you insensitive prick. Yet you still feel the need to tease and embarrass me, as though I’m some sort of plaything. I’m not an experiment, Sherlock.”
Bewilderment played across his features. “Th-that’s not–”
“Get out,” she said, staring him down.
“Get out of my morgue!” She hadn’t stamped her foot, but she may as well have.
Sherlock turned quietly and left.
“Rubbish timing,” John said later that evening as he sat at his kitchen table with his friend.
“Rubbish emotions,” Sherlock quipped. “How is it that, with everything else in my mind, I still have room for the damned things?”
John shushed him; Rosie was asleep in the next room. “You’re still human,” he replied quietly.
The consultant leaned forward, face in his hands. “How can I even know for sure what I’m feeling toward Molly?"
"You do care about her,” John said matter-of-factly. “However, you might have come to me before bungling it up. I still can’t believe you told her you were ‘ready to have a go at a relationship.’”
“Just… help me fix it,” Sherlock said quietly, looking up at his friend. “Please.”
John just stared at him. Sherlock almost never asked for help, let alone politely.
“Fine,” he replied. “I’ll do what I can.”
After a sleepless night, Molly decided to call John for advice.
He answered at the first ring. “Molly? I was just about to call.”
“Oh,” she replied. “Did you need me to come over?”
“If that’s alright.” John glanced over at Rosie, who was making a mess of breakfast, and Sherlock, who’d fallen asleep at the table.
“As long as Sherlock isn’t there,” she said.
“Oh, he won’t be,” John lied.
When Molly arrived, John answered the door with a grumpy Rosie in his arms. She took the toddler and followed John to his living room, sitting down on the sofa across from him.
“Can I talk to you about something?” Molly asked, gently stroking Rosie’s hair.
“Er, yeah,” John replied. “Of course.”
“Sherlock…” she started. “Sherlock came to my morgue last night.”
John said nothing.
“He… doesn’t know where to draw the line, does he?” She set Rosie on the floor with her toys.
John pressed his lips together. He was looking at Rosie, but his true focus was on her godmother. He sighed before replying. “How long has it been since the last time he carelessly trampled on your feelings? Months? A year?”
Her eyebrows drew together. It had been a while. “What are you getting at?” she asked.
“Clarify for me,” John said, already knowing the answer. “What did he say to you?”
Molly scoffed. “He told me he was 'ready to have a go’ at a relationship.” She swallowed hard. “With me.”
“Hm.” John thought for a moment before speaking again. “I can see why you think he was taking the mick.”
“Well, he can’t very well be serious,” she replied, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees.
Rosie threw her doll at Molly, who handed the doll back saying, “Rosie, remember, we must be gentle with babies.”
Rosie took it back and hugged it before going back to playing alone.
“Why not?” John asked. “Why can’t he be serious?”
Molly smiled bitterly. “You know how he is. All logic, no emotion. He prefers drugs to actual human company.”
John shook his head, a smile playing across his lips. “That’s what he wants people to think. He only pretends not to care. He can’t get hurt if he won’t let anyone get close enough.”
She bit her lip. Her heart ached to accept that as truth, but… “Maybe that’s what he wants you to think.” …she didn’t want to take the chance.
“Molly…” John sighed. “I know it’s hard for you to believe or accept, but Sherlock does care.”
She shook her head.
“Molly.” Her gaze darted up to the door, where Sherlock stood with sleepless eyes and disheveled hair.
She turned to John, her voice barely above a whisper. “You said he wouldn’t be here.”
“Molly,” Sherlock said softly, stepping into the room. “Please.”
John stood, picked Rosie up, and left the room. He’d done what he could.
Molly got to her feet, arms crossed, and eyes welling up with tears. “Why, Sherlock?”
He knit his eyebrows. “Why?"
"Why me? Why now?”
“Why you?” he replied, tentatively stepping closer. “You are kind… caring. You see the best in people. The best in me. You have always,” his voice cracked, “been a good friend. Why now?” He sighed, shaking his head. “It’s not just now. It’s been… too long. I…” He paused. “I wanted you to be happy, and… I didn’t think you could be happy with me.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
Sherlock mentally counted down. If she doesn’t say anything by the time I reach zero, I’ll just leave, he thought. The heart that had been purposely hardened felt heavier with each passing second. At zero, he turned, but stopped when she spoke.
“How long?” she asked quietly, letting her arms fall to her sides.
“I’m not sure,” he replied, still facing the door. “But… the day you said you didn’t count–it was the day I realized that you do count, Molly. More than anyone. More than… more than me.”
“One chance,” she said.
Sherlock turned back to face her again. “Sorry?”
“I can offer you one chance, Sherlock. If…” She took a breath. “If this is a joke, an experiment, or anything like that, you’ll tell me right now. If I find out on my own, that’s it. I won’t ever want to see you or hear from you again. Do you understand?”
Sherlock nodded silently.
“Now, tell me: are you serious about this? Do you absolutely mean what you’ve said?” Molly closed her fists, bracing herself for the answer.
He slowly closed the distance between them, leaned down, and kissed her gently before answering.
LESTRADE: Did you know? JOHN: Of course I didn’t. LESTRADE: You didn’t see him take the scalpel? JOHN: Nobody saw him. LESTRADE: So you didn’t know what was about to happen. JOHN: Of course I didn’t know. LESTRADE: Well, there must have been some build-up. He didn’t just suddenly do it. JOHN: Look, I didn’t know he had the bloody scalpel. LESTRADE: Ohh, Christ! I keep wondering if we should have seen it coming. JOHN: Not long ago, he shot Charles Magnussen in the face. We did see it coming. We always saw it coming. But it was fun.
This is the dialogue between John and Lestrade from TLD. In the show it is interspersed with the scene from the morgue. This is what they actually say - and it does not make sense.
John does not even try explain the build-up, the strange behaviour of Culverton Smith, the fact that Sherlock had been using for weeks or months.
John telling Greg just like that Sherlock shot Magnussen - a fact that was hushed up during a super secret meeting with Mycroft, Sir Edwin, and Lady Smallwood. (But then Greg also knew about Mary’s past so maybe he is the one NSY officer who knows all the secrets).
And what would have been the “fun” of Sherlock killing someone? And who saw it coming? Surely not John who thought Sherlock was the wisest and kindest man he ever met?
student athlete: Boy Where You Been 😩 We Stay Grindin 😈💯 I Stay After School And Hit 6k Everyday 🏆 Six Kilometers is Nothing 💦 At Least I Chase My Dreams While You Take L’s 😤 God First 🙏🏽 RIP Grandma 👴🏽 John 4:3 🍽
I just got this image in my head of Sherlock after TFP. He apologizes to Molly, and she thinks everything is back to normal. He keeps trying to tell her how he feels, but he is wildly out of his element. So he googles sciency (yes I know that’s not a word but I’m gonna use it anyway) pick up lines and starts trying to use them on Molly. His attempts are… not successful.
“Are you my appendix? Because I have a feeling I should take you out.”
“Of course, Sherlock. Chinese or Italian? I’ll message John and he can bring Rosie along too!”
“I wish I were adenine because then I could get paired with U.”
“Sorry, what was that? I had my headphones in!” *giggles*
“Molly, you’re so cute you make my zygomaticus muscles contract.”
“Aw! You make me smile, too, Sherlock! You’ve become such a good friend.”
“Lets meet somewhere… you bring your beaker and I’ll bring my stirring rod.”
“Ooh, did you want to continue that experiment on the effects of temperature on bodily fluids? Sounds like fun.”
(Molly secretly knows what’s going on but she enjoys his efforts too much to stop teasing him. He deserves to sweat, after all, after everything he’s put her through over the years.)
Sherlock finally decides he’s had enough one day, and just barges into the lab, where he promptly snogs the life out of his pathologist. (Molly doesn’t complain.)
so writemeastoryofsolitude and i were wondering how on earth mofftiss are going to tackle the johnlock wedding, here are a few ideas:
it would be a small, intimate ceremony just for closest friends and family, complete opposite of john and mary’s lavish wedding
mike stamford is john’s best man, papa greg is sherlock’s
harry actually showing up
mycroft looking extra smug as if it’s all down thanks to him
mummy and daddy holmes, and mrs hudson all crying through the whole ceremony
since food equals sex, john feeding sherlock the first piece of the wedding cake
sherlock not even caring about going anywhere nice for their sex holiday since all he cares about is being with john, but john wanting to do this for sherlock because he deserves it, they both do
mycroft getting them a ridiculously extravagant wedding gift and john being concerned it’s way too much but mycroft insisting like “please, if this had happened a hundred years ago, do you have any idea how large a dowry i would have had to give you for finally taking him off my hands”, john like “….he’s not a woman” and mycroft giving him a smile and an appraising look like “the point still stands, i’d have paid truly exorbitant sums to ensure my little brother was happy and healthy and engaged with life, but it turns out i don’t have to”
neither sherlock nor john want to stop dancing the entire night of their wedding
at the end of the night john being like “okay we’ve been dancing for hours, my feet and knees are killing me, and you’ve spent the last three dances not-so-subtly grinding against me and groping my arse so the only dancing i want to do with you right now is strictly horizontal and on a bed” and sherlock practically sprinting from the room, shouting goodbyes at everyone on his way and “WE’RE OFF TO START OUR SEX HOLIDAY, GRAHAM DON’T TAKE ON ANY INTERESTING CASES WHILE I’M GONE, INDEFINITELY, ON A SEX HOLIDAY WITH JOHN, MY HUSBAND”, while john follows him apologising without really meaning it and finally giving up and just running after sherlock and grinning
sherlock deciding to change his name to watson-holmes and john being like “you don’t have to do this, your name should maintain recognisability for your work” and sherlock giving him a look “john, you’ve been a part of that work since we met, and besides holmes and watson, i think those names should ought to remain connected in everyone’s minds forever, don’t you?”
john changing his name too because together forever is together forever
sherlock going on john’s blog and making a post with size 60 font saying “NOT CURRENTLY ACCEPTING CASES, WE ARE ON SEX HOLIDAY”
john commenting on the post like “you were just getting ice, come back to bed”
sherlock commenting back “YOU come back to bed :-)”
sherlock changing john’s profile photo to one from their wedding and changing the description to include “married to sherlock watson-holmes”
sherlock rewriting their wiki articles to mention their marriage at least once a paragraph
holmes parents making john call them mum and dad
the first time john and sherlock visit holmes parents and john calls them mum and dad he feels a bit awkward but the beaming smiles sherlock and his parents give him make him feel like he finally has the loving and supportive family he always longed for
first christmas dinner as a married couple at holmes parents’ house, john and daddy holmes chatting in the sitting room while sherlock “helps” his mum in the kitchen which is more “let’s mummy embarrass him by complimenting john and the effect married life on sherlock”
mycroft joining them in the kitchen and making a comment like “yes, i heard those effects quite vociferously last night, you may want to relocate to the upstairs bedroom when you return to baker street if only to spare mrs hudson” and sherlock retorting “you may want to relocate to a kitchen surface that john didn’t fuck me up against last night then”, mummy being absolutely scandalised for about 5 seconds and then being like “i know what you mean sherlock, when your father and i got married we couldn’t keep our hands off each other, why in this very kitchen….” and the rest getting drowned out with truly horrifying screams of “MUMMY!!!!” from both brothers