john the stutterer

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Disabled man in his mid-50s turns disability into music, encourages other disabled people to kick ass.  Tragically, he died of cancer in 1999.  We gotta continue kicking ass in his name.

Larkin was worried that listeners would realize he stuttered, and his wife Judy suggested that he talk about it directly in his music. Working with dance producers Ingo Kays and Tony Catania, he recorded the first single, “Scatman (Ski Ba Bop Ba Dop Bop)”, a song intended to inspire children who stuttered to overcome adversity.

“Everybody stutters one way or the other
So check out my message to you
As a matter of fact, I don’t let nothin’ hold you back
If the Scatman can do it, so can you…

on their first date

What if the dinner at Angelo’s went differently? All it takes is stepping on a butterfly to change fate. (x)

Tagging @a-candle-for-sherlock @missmuffin221 @ailynerie @shag-me-senseless-watson @very-grumpy-bisexual @love-in-mind-palace @fangirllock @one-thousand-splendid-stars @the-blue-carbuncle (Let me know if you’d like a tag in any future stuff! I might turn this into a series.)



This is as cliché as it could have gotten.

Nestled together beneath delicate lights, the small Italian café soaking warmth into bones chilled by the London air. A table so small, two sets of knees could knock together with just a shift of weight (that is, if either of the knee-owners so inclined). Enough familiarity to settle into the scene with ease, though enough of strangers to still wary of the other. A candle flickering between them.

It’s enough to make you think. To make you wonder.

“You don’t have a girlfriend, then?”

When Sherlock hears you, you never can tell if he’s actually listening. “Girlfriend? No, not really my area.”

“Mm.” John says, and then freezes, the full intent settling in his stomach. Oh. “Oh, right.” A beat. “D’you have a boyfriend?”

Now Sherlock is listening, head immediately snapping to his companion with sharp, appraising eyes. His brow is furrowed. It makes him look boyish and, well, human, a word John has quickly learned not to affiliate with the man. John’s worried he’s actually offended him.

“Which is fine, by the way.”

“I know it’s fine.”

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Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. (You guys I am seriously going to hell. I’m sorry if the ghosts of the founding fathers find this, full permission to haunt my ass. ALSO! Credit to the artist :) )

“Bad boys don’t get to come. Bad boys get punished, am I clear?” Alexander addressed.

John Laurens whimpered signaling a yes, but that didn’t work for Hamilton.

“I said, do I make myself clear? Repeat what I said,” Hamilton growled, taking off John’s shirt and boxers in a quick motion.

“Daddy said that bad boys don’t get to come with Daddy. Bad boys get spankies and punishment,” John repeated.

“You’re not getting spankies, not today, I am far too tired from my meeting today little one. What ever shall I do to my boy?” Hamilton asked, pulling open the drawer and pulling out lube and a light pink vibrator.

John whimpered at the sight of what was in his hands.

“Oh wait- How could I forget?” Hamilton said, turning around to get rope.

John sat there naked on his lower half, shaking at his fear of what Hamilton was going to do. Hamilton directed John to get on his hands and knees, well not exactly his hands, but to lean on his shoulders and knees as his daddy tied his hands behind his back, making sure they were secure. Hamilton lubed up the vibrator without saying a word or making a sound. Hamilton shoved the vibrator in his bum without prep, making John cry out in pain and pleasure.

“I will be back in 40 minutes. If you can make it without coming, I will reward you. If you come, I will start the 40 minutes over again. Do I make myself clear?” Hamilton clarified.

“Yes,” John said, shaking his head violently.

Hamilton set an alarm for 40 minutes and put the vibrator on the lowest it would go. Hamilton kissed John’s lower back and left the room, closing the door behind him.

When Hamilton’s alarm went off, he sat up from the couch and opened the door, revealing his little shaking on the bed. Hamilton had been listening to John’s moans and screams for the last 40 minutes. John was lying in the same position when Hamilton entered the room.

“Did you come?” Hamilton asked.

“N-No, I-I di-didn’t Daddy,” John stuttered as Hamilton turned the vibrator off, making him sigh.

“Good boy. Did you learn your lesson, Prince?” Hamilton sighed as he slowly took out the vibrator.

John moaned as the vibrator was removed. Hamilton began to untie his hands.

“Y-Yes Daddy. Ma-May I come?” John croaked.

“Go ahead,” Hamilton smirked as his baby exploded with pleasure. “Good boy. I’ll go clean you up. Stay here,” Hamilton said as he opened their bathroom in their room and got paper towels and a makeup remover wipe.

Hamilton returned, setting John on his bum. Hamilton cleaned up all the cum that got onto the bed and the cum on John. Hamilton took the pomegranate scented makeup wipe and wiped away the running mascara and John’s baby pink lipgloss.

“Cuddle?” John whined as he threw away the dirty wipes.

Hamilton smiled and got into the bed with him, throwing the fuzzy black blanket and comforter over them. John sighed and laid his head on Hamilton’s cozy chest, lightly rising and dropping. John kissed his chest where he was laying.

“I love you, Daddy. Thank you,” John yawned tiredly.

“Mhm, love you too baby.”

What if John writes a love poem for Sherlock and stresses over it whole day that if Sherlock sees it he will laugh. But in the evening Sherlock suddenly stops John in the middle of the living room . his face red and starts stuttering “John you need to hear something.” and recites 10 pages worth of writing, which sounds like a poem, consisting of description about each of John’s jumpers, the different shades of his hairs, his eye bag, his nose, his smell, his checked shirts, in an attempt to show how much he loves John because this is the way of showing how he cares. The only thing he is good at is observing. So John must know this is his language of love.

When Sherlock stops, John kisses every breath out of him and it’s the best day ever.

Kiss Me | John Shelby

Summary: You are hired to be Tommy’s secretary, you’re a kind and educated girl. You always have a smile on your face and rarely caught in a bad mood. John is unhappy in his marriage, and slowly falls in love with you without you realizing it. (Inspired by the song; Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran)

I’m falling for your eyes, but they don’t know me yet.

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Secrets - John Version

Requested by anon:  Any Pairing: Reader x ?. I’ve got an idea where (Y/N) is hiding something and acting strange but when her boyfriend questions her about it, she avoids answering. This continues until he accuses her of cheating and during their argument she blurts out she’s pregnant (or something).
& Anon:  There’s not enough love for John!!! Can I have a protective John please?? Reader is johns wife or girlfriend and something happens?? Reader is close friends with Sherlock who is also protective of course…but I’m craving protective sweet John!!

Pairing: John Watson x reader

Word count: 1,584

Warnings: I’m not sure.

A/N: This gave so many twists… I swear there are five different versions of this story, but this one won over the others.

Enjoy!

Originally posted by sherlockspeare

The case had been difficult; the criminal was a true mastermind of simplicity. They had taken so much time to figure it out, and then to chase after him was even worse. But perhaps, the worse thing of them all was that (Y/N) had been involved accidentally.

She knew John would be following Sherlock all night long until they caught the criminal, but she had never expected her best friend to be the ones they were looking for. So when Sherlock and John appeared at the café and started the persecution, she had no other choice but to help them catch him.

Everything was fine, until he ran towards an alley with literal whole all over the pavement. For John and Sherlock it was nothing hard to jump them or dodge them, but to (Y/N) and her high heels it was more than a medium obstacle, which resulted in her falling to one of the whole and hurting her ankle. Thankfully, her friend’s heart remained the same, and he stopped to check on her, allowing Sherlock to arrest him.

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Kidnapped - Part 4 - James March Smut - (AHS Hotel)

Your name: submit What is this?

requested: yes
-request(s): “It would be awesome if someone at the hotel, like while she was walking around, touched the reader in a way she didn’t like, she says stop repeatedly and they don’t. James freaks the fuck out and gets all protective and murders the guy while the reader is just scared. James makes her feel better with sex.” -anon ; “I was thinking a part could be where John is flirting with the reader and James gets all protective (;.” (paraphrased bc im on mobile and can’t copy the request lol) -anon
type: smut
warnings: dom!james, daddy kink
summary: Basically what the requests said– After being harrassed by some of the attendants at the hotel who don’t particularly like you, James finds out all the awful things they’ve been telling his princess, and he becomes furious and comforts you when you’re feeling insecure because of everything they’ve been telling you (;
notes: IM SO GLAD YOU GUYS ARE LIKING THIS SERIES OMF IVE HAD SO MANY REQUESTS FOR A 4TH PART YOU GUYS DONT UNDERSTAND HOW HAPPY THAT MAKES ME OML. anyway if u guys like this and want me to keep going with a fifth part hmu lmao x

❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ 

 Your eyes cracked open, taking in your surroundings. You were laying on the couch in your and James’ living room. You glanced at the clock on the end table, seeing that it was 6:34 PM, and you noticed a small note next to it with your name scrawled in James’ neat cursive.

‘Darling, I had some business I needed to attend to, but I should be back shortly. Assuming you’ll be hungry when you wake up, seeing as it’s 6:00 now, why don’t you go ahead down to the bar, and I’ll meet you there for dinner by 7. All my love, James.’ 

 You a smiled a bit at the note, and then set it sound and grabbed your purse to head downstairs. Figuring that James would meet you there within the half hour, you grabbed a seat at the bar and Liz brought you your usual – a glass of Pepsi mixed with 3 vanilla shots and 5 cherries. You’d always ordered that when you first arrived at the hotel, and soon enough, Liz had added it to the menu, and named it, “The Y/N Special.” You sat there for a while, slowly willing your drink and twirling the straw between your fingers boredly. 


“Do you have the time?” you asked Liz after a while. 


 “7:26, hun. Was Mr. March supposed to meet you?” she inquired, leaning down so she was at your sitting level, holding herself up by resting her arms on the bar. You nodded and took another sip of your third drink with a sigh. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, I’m sure he’ll be down soon Y/N.” 


 A couple minutes after, John Lowe, the detective staying at the hotel, took the empty seat next to you. “Hey,” he turned to you with a smile, “Y/N, right?” 


 “Yup,” you responded, smiling politely back at him. He was just being friendly, right? 


 “Looking beautiful as always, I see.” 

“Oh.. um, thanks,” you said awkwardly, unsure if he was flirting with you or just being nice.

“Can I buy you a drink? You look like you’re almost finished with that.” John said with a small laugh.

“Oh, really no, that’s okay. I’m waiting for someone anyway, he should be down soon.”

“No, no, really. I insist.”

You shrugged to yourself. It was just a free drink, it’s not like he was offering to buy you lingerie or dildos. You tried to convince yourself he was just being friendly – you loved your boyfriend and accepting a drink from John wouldn’t change that.

“Liz?” he called. “Another drink for Y/N please. Add it to my bill.”

Liz shot you a questioning look, but made the drink and slid it over to you anyway. Time passed and what started with awkward small talk with you and John, soon became a slightly drunken full blown conversation, with one of you laughing every few minutes or so. Liz kept coming by to “check on you” but you knew she was just making sure nothing bad was happening between you two. She knew you would never in a million years want to cheat on James, but here you were, bored and still waiting for him, a little drunk, and having fun talking to John.

“You know this is really fun, we should do this again.” John smiled, leaning back and taking another sip of his beer.

“Oh, I mean this is fun and all but I’m not sure my boyf-” you started, but suddenly John leaned in and captured your lips in a kiss. You immediately began to pull away, but John was ripped away from you first.

“Just what do you think you’re doing with her?”

You instantly recognized the voice, and your eyes grew wide, not knowing what he’d do.

“J-Jesus, I’m sorry man I didn’t know she was taken.” John stuttered, tossing some money on the bar and standing up. “It was nice talking with you Y/N.”

James stood in his spot, fuming and not saying anything. You played with your now sweaty hands in your lap, waiting for him to speak. “James?” you cautiously asked, as the silence continued.

James didn’t turn towards you, but instead to the bar. “Liz, please have the kitchen send our usual to our room. Y/N and I have some things to discuss. Just put her drinks on my tab.” He grabbed your your hand and started walking back towards the room.

“Please just say something. I pulled away, it didn’t mean anything to me.” You told him as the two of you almost reached your room. He stayed silent, and you couldn’t tell if he was pissed, upset, a combination, or neither. 

“James, I’m sorry. I love you so much, you know I never would have-”

Suddenly James cut you off.

“Get undressed and go lie on our bed.”

“W-what?”

“I said, get undressed and go lie on our bed.” he repeated. 

 “You’re… not mad?” you asked quietly, unsure of how to react.

“For God’s sake, of course I’m mad, just not at you. Now do as I told you to, I’ll be in in a minute.”

You bit your lip and walked into your room, stepping out of your shoes and letting your hair down as you walked. You shed your jeans, pulled your top over your head, and just as you started to unclip your bra, you felt a cold pair of hands land on your shoulders and sensually slide down to undo it. He scooped you up and brought you over to the bed, but stayed standing to start unbuckling his belt. You had to admit that seeing him like that sent a tingle right in between your legs, so you slowly reached down and started rubbing your clit through your panties. 

 “Ah ah,” James said sternly, leaning down to push your hand away. “No. Not tonight.” You knew he was only being extra dominant because he was angry at John, but you honestly couldn’t get enough of this.

Once James was fully undressed, he climbed on top of you, and crashed his lips to yours. You immediately threw your arms around his neck and threaded your fingers into his dark hair. 


His lips traveled down to the skin between your breats, leaving a trail of wet kisses and hickeys all over you. “You like that?“ he murmured. You nodded your head vigorously, and in reply James slipped his fingers under he waistband of your panties and pulled them down. 


 “James, please,” you groaned out. “Say my name again,” he growled,reaching one hand down to your pussy and pushing slow, hard circles into your clit. 


 "Oh-Ohh, fuck, James” you moaned again, feeling close to what you knew would be one of many orgasms that night. Just as you hit the edge of your climax, he removed his hand completely. “James!” you whined, tempted to just finish yourself off. But, of course you didn’t, because you knew James was in no mood for that tonight. Whenever he was angry he was extremely dominant.


 "Maybe if you hadn’t been flirting with that son of a bitch earlier, I would’ve let you cum.“ 


 "James, come on. How many times do I have to say I’m sorry?” you asked, feeling guilty but also annoyed. It’s not like you actually did anything. 


 "Why don’t you get on your knees and show me how sorry you are instead, darling.“ he responded, an evil looking grin playing on his lips. You smirked back at him and dropped to a kneeling position in front of him. “Open.” he commanded sternly, tapping your lips with the tip of his index finger. You gladly did as he told you to and parted your lips. James thrusted into your mouth quickly, and your eyes widened a bit at the sudden feeling. Your hand immediately went to grip the base of his cock, but he was doing most of the work. You wiggled your tongue in your mouth a bit, teasing his tip, and James moaned at the feeling you were giving him. His eyes were closed and his hands woven into your hair, and you could tell he was getting close. You hollowed your cheeks around his dick, and just when he was about to cum, he pulled out and started pumping himself. 


 "You wanna cum on my tits?“ you asked innocently, licking your lips. And before James could even reply, he released his load all over your chest with a loud groan. You stood up and began walking towards the bathroom, looking back at James with a smirk. “Come shower with me?" 


  James grinned, and easily caught up with you. His hand came down on your ass with a harsh smack, and then slid over to rest on your hip. You pushed the bathroom door closed behind the two of you, and James reached for the faucet to turn on the hot water. Just as you pushed down the lock, you felt his arms snake around your waist and his head rest in the crook between your neck and shoulder, breathing in your scent. You turned to face him and his lips immediately met yours in a frantic and passionate kiss. James’s hands gripped your butt, and lifted you up to his waist. You wrapped your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck. Slowly, careful not to hurt you, James stepped into the stream of hot water. You let the hot water run over your chest, and James leaned down to press wet kisses to your collarbones. A quiet moaned slipped out of your lips, and in response, James began scattering hickeys all over you, starting at your neck and traveling downwards until he had one of your nipples in his mouth. Once he was finished, he pulled his head back to admire his work. "To let everyone know who you belong to,” he whispered. “I need you,” you replied, squeezing your hands around his neck tighter to keep yourself at the same height as him. “Then you’ll have me.” James said, pushing into you roughly. “Mm…darling, you are a revelation.” You leaned your head back against the wall of the shower and moaned loudly, as James continued pounding into you. You reached your hand down to your clit, and quickly rubbed your wet fingers over the sensitive spot. Your stomach practically did backflips as you brought yourself closer and closer to your orgasm. James let out a gasp as he came inside you. He kept fucking you, desperate to make sure your came as well, and you clenched around him as you felt your own orgasm taking over. “Oh, fuck James,” you groaned out, reaching your hands, that were previously around his neck, up to your boobs and gripped them harshly as you rode out your climax. The two of you stayed there, panting, for a few minutes, before James pulled out and gently placed you on the floor of the shower. He turned off the water and stepped out to grab you both towels. “Here, my love. I’m sorry to leave so soon, but I have some work I need to attend to.” You grabbed the towel with a pout, “Right now? Can’t it wait?” James leaned down to kiss your forehead. “It cannot, I’m sorry. I promise I’ll be back soon, dearest.” And with that, James turned towards the door. “I love you, Y/N.” “I love you, too.” you sighed, but James had already closed the door behind him. You stepped out and got dressed again, and by the time you walked out of the bathroom, you saw that James’s towel was on the bed, one of his dresser drawers was open, and he was gone. You closed the drawer, tossed his towel into the hamper, and laid back on his bed to wait. You weren’t sure how long his “work,” whatever it was, was going to take, so you figured you may as well take a nap. You were exhausted after almost every time you had sex with James, so it didn’t take much for you to fall asleep once you were under the covers and had closed your eyes. Ales than an hour later, your eyes shot open to the ringing of the phone on the nightstand. You rolled over with a groan, and picked it up. “Hello?” “Y/N?” Liz asked, even though she knew that it was obviously you, “You need to come downstairs right now– it’s James.” HEY IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET OUT OH MY GOD OK ill link parts 1 2 & 3 at the top in case you haven’t read them yet but I hope you guys liked part 4 :-) I know EXACTLY where I’m going with this series thing now, which is why I ended this part the way I did lol so probably you all are getting tired of this whatever it is, but I’m defintely making a part 5 lmao. even though it’s a smut series I kinda wanna add more storyline (like things like pregnancy, engagement/wedding, either James or Y/N having an affair, a threesome, etc have been suggested, and hint !! I’m planning on one of these for the next part 😏😏 have fun figuring out which) so let me know any other ideas you have, I love hearing your guys suggestions!! ❤️ xx -l

Aquaphobia

Inspired by this: ask for fics where Sherlock has aquaphobia


Deep waters, Sherlock, all your life …



It’s summer, and it’s unbearably hot.

Sherlock is only wearing his swimming trunks, while he crouches in the dried up grass and carefully takes a little brown frog in his hand.

Redbeard sits beside him, panting loudly.

Sherlock curiously holds the hand with the frog in it before his face. He laughs, when the frog walks a bit on his hand and it feels lightly slimy.
He looks at Redbeard.
“Come on Redbeard, we must bring him to the pond! This is no grass frog, it’s a sea frog. He can’t stay in this heat.”

Sherlock carefully closes his hand around the little frog and runs to the nearby pond. Redbeard follows him with a happy bark.

The pond has lost water because of the heat, but it’s still big and deep.

Sherlock slowly walks a bit into the water. Until it reaches his knees. It’s wonderfully cool and he giggles when Redbeard runs wildly into the pond and spatters him with water.

Sherlock puts the frog in the water, and watches how it swims away quickly.
“Bye, froggy,” he murmurs and smiles.
And then he hears it.
Voices. Coming nearer.
He frowns and swallows, when he sees a group of young boys walking to the pond. Their attention is on a gameboy one of them holds in his hands. They are laughing and shoving each other around.

Sherlock knows them.
They are two classes above him and they aren’t very fond of him.
Sometimes, they steal his lunch or his books from the library. And when the mood strikes them, they shove Sherlock around between them for a while.

Sherlock hopes they aren’t going to notice him.

Suddenly, Redbeard barks loudly, but friendlily and the boys look up.

The one at the front, big for his age and with tangled, sweaty, blond hair, Tom White, sees Sherlock and smiles spitefully.
“Look what we have here,” he says loudly, and the other boys look up from the gameboy. “The little freak is in the water. What are you doing in there, weirdo? Are you looking for your relatives?”
The other boys laugh, altough Sherlock doesn’t find the statement very funny or smart.

“Leave me alone,” Sherlock says and points at Redbeard. “I have my dog with me!”

A few of the boys swallow nervously when they see the big Irish Setter in the water, but Tom just laughs amused. “Your dog is like a big sheep, weirdo. Look. Come here, doggie, come here!” He whistles and Redbeard points his ears. In the next moment he jumps out of the water with his tale wagging. He runs to the boys and they laugh loudly.

Sherlock feels a lump in his throat.
It’s true, Redbeard isn’t a very good dog for protection.
He hopes that the boys won’t have enough energy to deal with him further.
But he hopes in vain.

Tom pats Redbeard between his earth and grins snidely. “Yeah, look at your dumb dog. I bet he would lick my hand even if I slapped him!”

Sherlock feels anger rising up in him. He balls his hands to fists. “Leave my dog alone,” he says. “Or I … I’ll tell your mother about the stealing!”

Tom looks at him sharply, and his look darkens. “What do you mean, weirdo?”

“I know that you steal money from her. For your cigarettes and …”

He doesn’t get any further. Suddenly Tom walks to him very quickly, with his hands balled into fists.
Sherlock moves back, suddenly he’s scared. He moves back until the water is nearly up to his belly button.

“You aren’t going to tell her anything, freak!” Tom yells at him and grabs him by the shoulders. “Or I’m going to be very unpleasent!”

The other boys come nearer too, they grin.
“Teach him a lesson, Tom!” One of them says and laughs. 

“Yeah, I should do that,” Tom says and grins. “Hold his dog,” he advises the boys, and then he grabs a handful of Sherlock’s curls. Before Sherlock can do or say anything, Tom shoves his head under water violently.

Cold. It’s so cold.
And dark. Sherlock can’t see anything. He can hear a loud swoosh and laughing somewhere in the distance.
He holds his breath, and feels how fear rises up in him.
He struggles against the hands which hold him down, but he’s not strong enough.
He starts to feel uncomfortable, a pain begins in his chest.
And then, he panics.
His lungs begin to burn, as his body begins to scream for air in earnest.
He can’t … He needs to breathe, he needs to breathe, he needs to …
Sherlock feels like his lungs would burst the next second, he screams under water, he …

And then he is pulled up.

Suddenly, there’s air around him again.
He gasps for breath, and everything is burning inside him. Everything …

He is dragged onto the grass and falls into it.
Hyperventialting.

Faint voices are around him, Redbeard is barking.

“Uhm, don’t you think you have overdone it a bit Tom?”
“Oh shut up, the little weirdo deserves it, Sam!”
“Yeah, but …”
“Shut up, I said! Let’s go.”

Suddenly, Tom’s shadow is above Sherlock, and the older boy whispers into his ear: “You are not going to tell this to anyone, you understand? If you tell anyone about this, I’m going to kill your stupid dog. My father buys rat poison every month, I could just give your dog a nice sausage with the poison in it …”

“No,” Sherlock gasps breathlessly. Tears flow over his face. “No …”

“Do what I say. I’m warning you, weirdo.”
And then Tom is gone.
They’re all gone.

Sherlock lays in the grass and gasps for breath. Crying, trembling, still full of panic.

Redbeard suddenly licks his face and whines quietly.

Sherlock stares at the blue, cloudless sky above him and cries.

Since then, he could never go into the water again.

*

Aquaphobia, is the term for it, he learns when he tries to find out why he suddenly can’t bear being in deep water.
Caused by a traumatic experience.

And from now on Sherlock stays out of the swimming pool. Out of ponds and rivers.

Because every time he thinks about going into the water, he remembers.
Remembers the panic, the cold and the dark.
His struggle. The pain in his lungs.
The feel of dying in darkness.

And he can’t. He simply can’t.

*

John is in the well, and it fills with water quickly.

John is in the well full of rising water, Sherlock stands above and nearly hyperventilates.

“John,” he stutters, “Oh God, John.”

“Sherlock!” John calls out of the well, the water has already reached his shoulders. “Sherlock, is someone coming?!”

“Yes,” Sherlock says and swallows. “Yes, yes … I called for help and … “

“Okay, all right,” John says, and obviously tries to stay calm. “Everything is going to be all right, Sherlock.”

This makes Sherlock flinch, and he shakes his head in disbelief. “How can you say that? You are the one in the well!”

“Yeah,” John says and laughs warily. “I’m the one in the well. Oh Fuck, it’s so fucking cold. I can’t feel my legs!”

Cold …
So cold …

Sherlock closes his eyes. Memories climb up in him, grab for him …
NO! He shouts at himself. Not now, John needs help, my help, John …

“Help will be here soon, John,” he says, and hopes he’s right.

The water is now at John’s neck, and Sherlock can see how John stretches his body, to stay on the surface.

Oh God …

“Sherlock,” John coughs, “If this … If this isn’t going to end well, I want you to know something!”

“Shut up, John,” Sherlock says, and feels how he is slowly getting desperate. There are still no sirens to hear in the distance … “Everything will be all right!”

“I hope so, I really hope so, but …” And then, John’s mouth is suddenly full of water and he coughs violently.

“JOHN!” Sherlock screams, and he sees, how the water still rises, how John’s struggle weakens …

I need to do something!
I need to …
Jump into the water.
Hold John over water.

Oh God.

Sherlock stares into the dark water. Dark. Cold. Memories …
His lungs burning.
The feeling of drowning …
Pain.

Then he looks at John, who gasps for air desperately.

Into the water …

There are no boys who are going to push you under.
There’s just John.
John who is drowning.
John, who needs your help.

John.

And just when he can hear the faint sound of a siren, Sherlock jumps into the well.

Then the water surrounds him and it’s so cold, that he gasps out of shock.

He pushes the feel of panic, the urge to get out, aside and moves to John, who seems to be close to passing out.
He grabs John under his arms and lifts him, as high as the chains let him.
Then, he paddles on the spot and holds John’s face above water.

John opens his eyes and looks at him weakly.

“You idiot,” he mumbles and smiles faintly. “What are you doing here? Do you want to drown with me?”

“No one of us is going to drown,” Sherlock says grimly. “Help is coming and everything is going to be all right, John.”

“Sherlock,” John whispers and sighs. Then he really passes out.
Sherlock can feel how his body goes slack in his grip.
He swallows when he noticeshow the water rises again.
How long, until …

And then, a bright light suddenly shines into his eyes from above.

“Sherlock!” Lestrade’s voice. Worried. “Sherlock, John, can you hear me?”

“Here!” Sherlock yells. “Get us out of this bloody well already!”

And then, someone comes to them with a rope and pliers.

While Sherlock still holds John’s limp body in his arms, they cut the chains, and finally, they are pulled out of the cold water.

*

Later, when they sit on a stretcher together, side by side, wrapped in blankets, Sherlock says quietly to John, “Did you know, that I have suffered from a case of aquaphobia since I was a child?”
“No, no I didn’t. Oh wow, Sherlock …”
“Yeah. Thanks for curing it, Doctor.”

And they laugh together.



Corrected by @bakerstreet-irregular <3

Tags under the cut. Did I forget you, or do you want to be tagged in future works? Tell me :)

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3

“Have you heard from Y/N today? She said she was sick but she usually calls in,” Sherlock questioned, your absence catching his attention as they began to walk down your street. While he looked lost in his own thoughts, John quickly checked his phone to find still no messages or calls from you.

“No, but if she says she’s sick we should just leave her be. Sherlock, Sherlock no-” John called, trying to reach out and grab Sherlock as he began to turn and head straight to your familiar red door. John’s fingers wrapped around thin air as he stood for a moment, watching Sherlock as he sighed before he looked both ways and crossed the street behind the curly haired man.

“Too late,” Sherlock called back as he ran up to your door, quickly finding your ‘hidden’ key yet he knocked once before. “Y/N?”

“She’s probably asleep, we should just- And now you’re breaking in. Y/N isn’t going to be okay with this,” John insisted as Sherlock opened the door and stepped into your cool apartment.

“I don’t care, I’m just concerned,” Sherlock brushed off John’s concern as the smaller man followed him into the apartment, closing the door behind him.

“Yeah I’m sure she’ll believe that,” John mumbled, looking into the empty living room before watching Sherlock begin to walk down the hallway to your kitchen and bedroom.

“Y/N? Y/N?” Sherlock called as he opened your bedroom door. John watched as he froze in the doorway, quickly moving to join his friend.

“OH MY GOD! GET OUT SHERLOCK!” you screamed trying to cover yourself with your blankets,“Sherlock please!”

“Is- Is that Moriarty?” John asked, peeking his head in the doorframe beside a speechless Sherlock as your bedmate popped up from the covers.

“Hi,” he greeted, a smug grin on his face as he watched John and Sherlock looking at the two of you with your messy hair and the scattered clothes all over the room.

“Y/N!”

“Good God will all of you shut the fuck up! Yes okay, Moriarty and I have been seeing each other,” you shouted, feeling a headache begin to form as you readjusted the blankets, trying desperately to make sure Sherlock and John didn’t see anything indecent.

“Really! Y/N! I thought- My God,” John stuttered, still reeling though Sherlock stood beside him cold as ice and quiet as he glared down Moriarty.

“You know, people keep saying that today. Is it Sunday? Because I’ve never heard God said this much on a weekday.”

“Shut the fuck up Moriarty!”


Gif Credit: gifs do not belong to this blog nor do we make any claim to them

Unplanned Parenthood

* Lafayette × Reader

* Modern

* 59: He’s missing, not dead.

* 97: I don’t want to have a baby.

* Requested by anonymous

* Request: I was wondering if you could do one where the reader finds out shoes pregnant (97) and the father is missing (59) so the other hamilsquad members have to help her through it. The ending and what hamilsquad member to have go missing are up to you.

A/N: THERE WILL BE A PART 2! Ok, so I was working on this and I had like 5,000 words already and it wasn’t even finished. I decided I’d split it into two parts. Hopefully I’ll finish part 2 tomorrow, but I make no promises. But enjoy Part 1!

Word Count: 2,505

~~

“I’m gonna miss you.” You mumbled as you cuddled up to Lafayette. He was set to head back to France for a few weeks. So here you laid, with your head on his chest the night before he left.

“I’ll miss you too mon cheri.” He said in a hushed whisper. His arm was wrapped around you and his fingers were tracing random lines in your back, soothing you and pulling you to sleep. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “But I will be home in a few weeks.” He reassured you.

You snuggled a bit closer. “You better.” You warned.

Lafayette had an early flight. Horribly early in your opinion. You held him as he waited for his cab to take him to the airport. He gave you a long kiss when the cab pulled up. “I’ll be back soon mon amour.” Another kiss and he was gone.

You moped around for a bit. You retrieved one of Lafayette’s jackets from your closet and put it on for some small comfort. You poured yourself some cereal but more so pushed it around with a spoon rather than eat it. You still had some when another roommate, John, trudged out from his room an hour later.

He paused when he saw you. He squinted slightly in confusion. “Laf already gone?” He asked, to which you nodded. “Oh hey, can I suggest something?”

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Irritability

Originally posted by bethereinagiphy

Summary: Chapter 5 of Trope-Tastic ~ Sherlock Holmes + 3. Person A thinks Person B has feelings for someone else but Person B has actually been in love with Person A for years


Sherlock had been irritable as of late. Yeah sure, he’s nearly always at some level of sour mood, but the last few days he’s been downright cruel. He snapped at everyone about everything and even yelled at poor Mrs. Hudson.

When John entered the flat after a trip to the grocer’s and a tea cup flew past his nose to slam into the wall, he’d had enough. John dropped the plastic bags on the floor, a few inches from the broken shards of ceramic. He folded his arms and gave Sherlock a look that could only be compared with that of a cross parent.

“What the hell has gotten into you lately, Sherlock?” He demanded, staring down the detective.

“What the hell has gotten into everyone else should be the question you ask.” Sherlock grumbled, sulking like a moody adolescent.

“Sherlock…” John warned.

“I’d rather not discuss it.” Sherlock stated simply, dropping in heap onto his chair. John scoffed, but decided he’d let it rest for the moment.

“Any cases?” John inquired, attempting a change of subject, in the hopes that discussing a brutal murder might lift Sherlock’s bad mood. Unfortunately, it seemed to have the opposite of its intended effect.

Sherlock practically growled out his reply, “Just solved it. Y/N is at the station now filling Lestrade in.” His eyes darkened more at the mention of the detective inspector’s name.

Keep reading

Calling

Pairing : John Laurens x Alexander Hamilton

Word Count : 1k

Summary : Exchanging numbers with John Laurens. 


When John first asked for his number, he mumbled something about sharing notes and collaborating on assignments, then he clumsily shoved his phone into Alexander’s hands. He hadn’t thought much of it; he simply typed in his contact information, and handed back the device, expecting the occasional text message throughout the semester.


The first time he heard from John, Alexander wasn’t expecting it. The sudden vibration startled him, nearly making him jump as he fumbled to retrieve his phone. For a moment he was confused, looking down at the unfamiliar name, and wondering who this John Laurens was, but then an image of the friendly boy from his political science class resurfaced, and he answered the call.

“Hey Alexander, sorry to be calling you out of nowhere, I was just wondering if you know when we need to have the textbook by?”

He held his phone to his ear as he leaned against the glass wall of the bus shelter, mindlessly watching the dark road. He thought he remembered seeing something about the second week of class, though he couldn’t say for certain.

“Second week I think, it probably says online,” Alexander replied.

He heard John shifting around on the other end of the line, but then he said, “great, I’ll check there.” He paused, creating a small silence. “Thanks a lot, I-I’ll see you next week.”

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Five and counting

Originally posted by isophhia

Requested:  “ Hi could you please do an imagine with John, where you asked him to get a vasectomy after your latest child and he went to the doctor but didn’t get it done. He never told you he hadn’t, so you only find out when you get pregnant again. Thank you”


John Shelby - Five and counting

The baby was crying when you walked into the Garrison, bobbing him up and down on your hip in a steady motion to calm him down. You greeted your family with a warm smile, Polly leaning forward eagerly to get a good look at the baby, happily taking him from your hands while the men winced at his screams.

“Alright darling” John greeted you from where he sat, holding an arm out against the booth to gesture for you to sit beside him which you did, letting his arm wrap around your shoulder and pull you in tight. He looked down at you as you rested for head on his shoulder, watching Polly and Ada coo over your child resulting in his giggles, “ey what’s up?”

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home (john murphy au)

Plot: You hadn’t been home in four years. People always gave you crap about never going home, but you couldn’t take any time off between your three majors and two jobs throughout your four years of college. When you left home, you kind of left all your friends behind, even the best friend and potential love of your life John Murphy. You finally give in and come home for Christmas break.

Pairing: John Murphy x Reader, Lincoln x Octavia, Bellamy Blake x Raven Reyes, Lincoln x Reader (siblings)

Warnings: cursing probably, cute family reunion!

A/N: Linctavia got married before the reader left for college! Octavia is a couple years older than the reader and a couple years younger than Lincoln. You and Murphy would text each other every few months, but it’d be nothing major. and I think that’s it! I hope you guys enjoy it. pls tell me what you think! (no gifs are mine!!)


It was finally time to head back home for Christmas, seeing as you only had an internship and a couple classes left to get your degrees. You hadn’t told your parents, though, thought it’d be best to surprise them.

So here you were: in front of the house you grew up in, gifts and duffle bag in tow. You can hear the laughter and the ruckus from over here and you can’t help but smile. You take a deep breath and ring the doorbell. Before you can compose yourself, someone opens the door and whispers your name. You look up to see your childhood best friend John Murphy.

“John,” you whisper, a large smile on your face as you take in John’s appearance. College had been kind to him. What used to be a lanky, angry boy is now a sophisticated, broad-shouldered man. “You’ve got glasses now.”

“So do you,” he takes another second to look at you before holding his arms out. “Come on, bring it in.”

You smile widely and wrap your arms around him, feeling at home for the first time in years.

“John, who’s at the door?” You hear your mom’s voice call out and you pull away from John, pressing a finger to your lips.

“Oh, no one important,” he yells back, earning a playful glare from you.

You walk past him, nudging him as you make your way inside. You stop once you’re just outside the kitchen, bumping into your mom on her way out.

“Surprise?” You give her a soft smile as her face lights up, a couple unknown tears falling down her cheeks.

“Allan! Come look who’s here,” she cries happily, wrapping her arms around you for the first time in four years.

“Who is–?” Your father’s eyes land on you and you let out a light chuckle, a tear running down your face this time.

“Hey, papa,” you whisper and your father wraps his arms around you and your mom, unshed tears in his eyes as he kisses the top of your head.

“It’s our little girl! She’s home,” he kisses your mom’s head and then yours again, a large smile on his face.

“I’m so glad I’m home,” you whisper, squeezing them tightly before pulling away. “I brought gifts for everyone!”

“Oh sweetie, you didn’t have to,” your parents smile widely at you, still unable to believe you’re home.

“Are you kidding me? She’s been gone for years, she better have brought a TON of gifts,” you hear your brother Lincoln’s voice and you playfully roll your eyes. “Stop that and get over here!”

He holds his arms out and you drop your bags, quickly running over to him and holding him close. He’d visit you often, mostly with the kids but sometimes just with his wife Octavia. His precious little family loved you… and New York.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” Lincoln pulls away and ruffles your hair.

“Because you’d tell Octavia who you know damn well cannot keep a secret from Mom. You know she–OW, O!” You feel someone pinch your shoulder and you know it’s Octavia.

Your mom and dad kiss your head and tell you they’re heading to the living room to entertain some guests.

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t tell me!” You groan as she wraps her arms around you. “The kids have been asking about you.”

“They’re driving us all nuts,” John pipes up, stepping into the circle as Octavia rolls her eyes, chuckling. “They have this wierd idea that you and I are married, Y/N.”

“What?” You smile, your heart racing as you think of the possibility. “Why do they think that?’

“They see pictures of us all over the house and ask questions. It’s what kids do,” John shrugs as Lincoln smirks at you two.

“Well that and Murphy’s never denied it. He wholeheartedly accepts it.”

“That’s also true. I could do worse than you,” John looks you up and down and you smack his shoulder.

“You could do a lot worse, but not at all better,” you flip your hair over your shoulder and high-five Octavia.

“Oh come on, like you could do better than me!” John scoffs and you raise a brow at him.

“Is that a challenge?”

“No please don’t leave me,” he groans and rests his head in the crook of your shoulder, bringing a smirk to your face.

“Thought so.”

“What’s going on in here?” You hear a deep voice and look up to find Bellamy, Octavia’s older brother.

“Oh, nothing, just the once every four years spectacle,” Lincoln shrugs and you smack the back of his head.

“Oh, Y/N’s home?” Bellamy walks into the kitchen, a wide smile on his face. “Hey there, stranger!”

“Hey, you!” You smile wide and wrap your arms around him, a smile on both your faces. You close your eyes and hold onto him longer than you did the others.

You don’t see the smile fall from John’s face. You don’t see the bitter realization that he factors in. He walks out, not waiting for any explanation.

Octavia and Lincoln watch him leave, a disappointed look in both of their eyes as they watch you and Bellamy.

“Um… is there something going on here?” You open your eyes as Lincoln clears his throat, crossing both arms over his chest and taking on his older brother role.

“No,” You laugh and pull away as Bellamy gulps, physically scared of your older brother.

“You’re my best friend, man. I wouldn’t go behind your back and steal your sister,” Bellamy clears his throat, a little calmer as he realizes he has nothing to be scared of.

“So then what is this?” Lincoln points between the two of you and you both burst out laughing. “What? What’s so funny?”

“Bellamy visited me a few times in New York, yeah, but not because he wanted to see me,” you glare at Bellamy who holds his hands up in surrender.

“To be fair, the first time I did want to check in on you!” He rolls his eyes as you scoff.

“Sure, he only kept coming back to visit because he’s head over heels in love with my roommate Raven,” you make kissy noises as Bellamy’s face grows red. “Look at him, awwww!”

Lincoln and Octavia let out a sigh, sounding almost relieved as they realized nothing happened between you two.

“Oh thank the lord,” Octavia groans, rubbing her temples and looking at you. “I pictured you and my brother together and honestly it’s a little sickening.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty damn gross,” Lincoln shudders and you laugh, waiting for John to comment. Only you look around the kitchen and don’t spot him.

“Where’s John?” You furrow your brows as Octavia and Lincoln have a telepathic conversation. “Guys seriously. Where is he?”

“Check the treehouse,” Bellamy’s smiling at you… they’re all smiling at you.

“What’s with the faces…?” You narrow your eyes and Lincoln just smiles in return.

“Just go talk to John and you’ll get it,” Octavia wraps her arms around Lincoln and sighs. “GO!”

“Okay, fine, fine,” you furrow your brows and do as you’re told.

You make your way to the treehouse, nostalgia running through you. You and Lincoln would always play on this stupid treehouse. You two would camp out some nice summer nights. When the Murphy’s moved next door, Lincoln invited John to your camp outs, too. You were all a family, kind of like you are now. Only when you were a kid, you didn’t want to jump John’s bones.

“John?” You whisper, slowly climbing up the ladder.

“Y/N?” He whispers, confused as you spot him by the windows.

“What? Can’t a girl climb into her treehouse?” You smile at him and he shrugs, looking down.

“Did you bring Bellamy up here?”

“Why would I bring Bellamy to our special place?” You whisper, brows furrowed as you walk over to him.

“Well, he’s your special someone, so I thought you’d bring him up here,” he looks up at you and brings a bottle to his lips.

“Oh, John, it’s Christmas Eve! Please don’t get drunk,” you chuckle and sit by the window, facing him. “And Bellamy isn’t my special someone.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he mutters, lifting the bottle up yet again.

“Give me that,” you glare and swipe the bottle from an already tipsy John. “Bellamy is my good friend. He helped me through some tough times in college, so in turn I helped him get my roommate.”

“What?” John looks up at you, brow raised as though not believing you.

“He’s quite in love with my roommate Raven,” you shrug, a smile on your face. “They’re cute together.”

“There’s no way! He could’ve had you, but he went with some Raven? I don’t buy it,” he scoffs looking away.

“Fine, here’s proof,” you roll your eyes and pull out your phone, swiping through the pictures on your phone until you come across one of Bellamy and Raven kissing. “Here.”

“Let me see that,” he grabs the phone and studies the picture before handing your phone back and muttering. “Okay, she’s pretty. But he’s still stupid for passing you up.”

“I’m flattered you think so, John,” you chuckle, shaking your head and looking down. “He couldn’t have me even if he wanted to.”

“H-how come?” John stutters out, clearing his throat as he tries not to let his heart soar.

“I was hoping I’d have someone back home waiting for me,” you shrug and look up at him, the vulnerability in your voice surprising him.

He stares at you for a solid minute and you think that maybe the comment went over his head or maybe he actually secretly hated you or maybe–

“I-I’ve been waiting for you back home,” he whispers and you see the light in his eyes, the hopefulness.

“Oh thank god,” you whisper and in a moment of relief, you lean forward and hungrily capture his lips with yours.

John’s eyes grow wide before he quickly shuts them, wanting to prolong this moment. His hands move to your shoulders and gently cup your face, rubbing your cheeks as you both pull away for a breath.

“I-I don’t know what came over me, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t think I’d pounce–”

“Yeah, you better be sorry,” John whispers, nudging your nose with his own. “If you think this guy’s gonna put out that easily, you’ve got another thing coming.”

You fall against each other, laughing and kissing.

“It’s good to be home, isn’t it?” He whispers, green eyes boring into yours.

“It’s great.”