For several episodes in a row, Sherlock has unbidden flashbacks to his childhood.
The Abominable Bride: Sherlock hears Redbeard during his drug-fueled Victorian adventure
The Six Thatchers: Sherlock flashes back to the beach after Mary knocks him out with drugged paper
The Lying Detective: Sherlock flashes back to the beach during a breakdown connected to his extreme overuse of drugs
Each of these flashbacks is connected to Sherlock using drugs or being drugged. Sherlock may have been on to something after all with his suggestion in The Lying Detective that “perhaps the drugs opened certain doors in my mind.”
It’s only in The Final Problem that drugs seem unrelated to a flashback trigger.
anyone who has spent 5 seconds around me, ever:
yes, you love drugs. we know. you love drugs so much; they are the light of your life, you love them so much. you just love drugs. we KNOW. you love drugs. you fucking love drugs, okay. we know, we get it. DRUGS. WE GET IT
Heeeeeey. I was wondering if you could find some shortish fics, preferably less than seven thousand or somewhere around there. Super smutty or super fluffy is fine. But pleeeeeeeeease 😍😍😍 ok I'm done thanks
I am taking this as a challenge, they’ll have to be LESS than 7k! Many shorties seem to fall into the ~8k range so this should be fun. (Also, for more short-ish fics of 25k or less, I’d like to refer to my rec lists here and here.)
Drarry fic recs, less than 7k
• Feel You In These Walls by alpha_exodus (6.8k) Just this once, Harry thinks. Just this once, they’ll kiss, they’ll have sex, and then it’ll be over.Draco hadn’t expected more than that either. But then it happens again, again, and neither of them had anticipated having feelings involved - but they’ve never been able to keep anything casual, have they? (Lovely sweet Drarry, beautifully written, lots of personality for a shortie!)
• Let Me Go on Loving You by firethesound (6.6k) Harry has learned that the perils of living with a potion master include, among many other things, the occasional exploding cauldron. At least this accident involves a lot of orgasms, so. Could be worse. (I LOVE THIS FIC SO MUCHHH. The Drarry is amazing, I love the way Harry thinks about Draco and how he doesn’t. want. to. stop. kissing. himmm.)
• Two Gentlemen by hidingfromsomeone (3.7k) This is sweet sweet fluffy established relationship Drarry in which they live together and cook for each other and just can’t keep their hands away.
• Crystal Clear by ICMezzo (6.7k) Harry customizes a snow globe. Draco listens to centaur weather reports. Ron investigates the height of Pansy’s boots. And Hermione knows even more than everything, as usual. (No one signs up for the class for lactating witches.) (I feel like I rec this fic every day but it can’t be recced enough! Draco and Harry’s relationship in this is my fave, they’re adorkable and so so sweet.)
• Falling Stars, Catching Lightning by daftfear (6.6k)
Draco’s talent and skill as a tattoo artist are without equal, but when Potter comes in asking for a custom piece that’ll take several sessions to complete, Draco finds his abilities and professionalism tested.
(Excellent fic, the sexual tension is on point, and the tattoos, so much YES.)
• Muggle ‘Drug Store Items’ by loveglowsinthedark (4.2k)
Malfoy’s interest is caught by a certain Muggle drug store item. (Hint: Flavoured Condoms)
(Probably the funniest and hottest thing I’ve read in a good while.)
• Choices that are made in the moonlight by Teatrolley (4.4k) “Harry never imagined that he’d someday know the feeling of Draco’s smiling lips against his own, or be able to replicate the exact tone of his during-sex laughter in his mind. Even then, he especially never imagined that, were he to ever know those things, he were also to be without them again.” (I cried a waterfall reading this one, it hurt so bad, my poor poor heart.)
• Wascally by dysonrules (6.7k)
Draco finds an ickle wounded birdy in the forest. (This fic is hilarious and absolutely adorable, Draco is so sassy I can’t.)
To everyone who sent me well wishes and good vibes, or even just a ‘like’ on my random ramblings before/during/after surgery, thank you!! I love you all!! And I made a thing to commemorate just how much…umm it’s based on the magnitude of the THOUGHT, not the art skills that went into this. Although that was considerable. *cough*
This is a fluffy little story for all you wonderful Sherlollians who have kept me going this past year as I’ve delved into the world of writing fanfiction! Thank you.
‘We’re almost an hour late, John! Hurry up!’ The moment John
brought the taxi they had commandeered to a sudden and screeching halt, Sherlock
jumped out, John on his heels. He glanced up as they began running, only to
freeze in horror at the man sprinting across the car park toward them, murder
in his eyes.
‘Vatican Cameos, John!’ Sherlock cried out and hastily
pushed John back toward the safety of the car, securing the locks for good
‘William Sherlock Scott Holmes!’ Mycroft’s normal cool
composure was gone as he thundered across the car park, bellowing all the while.
Sherlock knew he could easily overpower Mycroft, but he was currently sporting
several bruised ribs and his head throbbed from the seven sutures John had stitched
across the cut in his forehead.
The British Government was on the warpath and he slammed his
hands on the window, his eyes alight with the icy fire that toppled nations. ‘Get.
Out. Of. The. Car,’ he bit out. ‘Now!’
‘I rather think not, brother dear,’ Sherlock replied. ‘Molly
prefers me in one piece.’
‘You are late, covered in what appears to be the blood of
three different men, and should probably have those ribs bandaged,’ Mycroft
growled. ‘I should be the least of your worries when Molly does get ahold of
you and finds out you took that case yesterday when she asked you not to.’
Sherlock swallowed thickly.
‘Now, are you going to come willingly, or do I send out the
security detail to break the window and drag you out?’ Mycroft threatened and
stood back. ‘Might I remind you that the photographers would be delighted to
have evidence of the Great Sherlock Holmes being dragged into his own wedding.
Molly, though, will be less than thrilled. Especially after you’ve already left
her waiting for 43 minutes…’
Sherlock scrambled to pull the lock up and threw himself
from the car. But his beeline for the church, and his bride, was briefly
impeded by Mycroft’s fist connecting with his face.
‘Son of a-!’ Sherlock exclaimed, clutching his eye. ‘Bloody
John shot Mycroft a practiced glare before tugging Sherlock
toward the church. ‘Just add it to the list of injuries we can address after
you say ‘I do’.’
Mycroft stalked after them, rubbing his sore knuckles and
hiding his sigh of relief that they had eventually made it. Molly had been
relatively calm, but her cool had been breaking as the hour progressed and no
one could reach John or Sherlock. He was rather fond of his sister-in-law-to-be
and giving Sherlock a black eye for nearly standing her up was only a small
Molly paced back and forth, the skirt of her white dress swishing each time she turned about. Her
bottom lip was nearly raw from gnawing on it and she was fast losing hope. She
wasn’t sure whether to be angry about Sherlock sneaking out the night before on
a last-minute case or worried about him being missing. For now, she settled on
‘I’m sure they’re fine,’ Mary assured her. The Matron of
Honor was trying to be the rock for them both, but with her husband also
missing, she was in the same state as Molly.
Molly barely acknowledged her tries at reassurance, moving
on to twisting the folds of her dress in anxiety. Their increasingly melancholy
thoughts were interrupted by a clamoring out in the hall. Mary stood and went
to look out, her entire body sagging in relief when she saw Sherlock and John
‘Ah, it appears our boys have arrived, though in far worse
condition than when we left them.’
Relief flooded her body. He was okay. He was alive.
And he was late.
Molly gathered her voluminous skirts and marched out the
door, letting her anger loose.
‘Molly, he can’t see you before the ceremony! It’s bad luck!’
Mary cried out and tried to block Molly’s way.
‘I don’t give a damn about superstition,’ the bride replied
and pushed past, zeroing in on her husband-to-be. His back was to her as his
father and John tried to put his rumpled appearance to rights. With each step
she took, she more clearly saw the damage her husband was trying to cover and
felt her anger begin to fade into horror.
John noticed her first, over Sherlock’s shoulder, and nudged
his friend. Sherlock turned around in surprise and Molly gasped at his face,
her heart dropping. Dirt covered and sweaty, he had a long cut above his left
eyebrow that looked to have been hastily sutured and his right eye was
beginning to show signs of swelling. Dropping her skirts, she raced the last
few feet and launched herself into his arms, uncaring of the dirt and blood on
his clothes against her white dress. He caught her with one arm, keeping the
other tight across his torso, and let out an oomph when she collided with him.
Tears pricked her eyes and she sniffled against his
shoulder. ‘Are you okay?’
He pressed his face into the curve of her neck. ‘I am now.’
‘W-what happened?’ She pulled back and cupped his cheeks,
examining the injuries he’d sustained and noting the way he held his ribs.
‘Just some overeager drug lords looking for a new home base
in London. Nothing to worry about,’ he reassured her. Smiling smugly, he added,
‘Well, not anymore. Their injuries were much more substantial, if I do say so
Molly’s eyes hardened and she stiffened in his arms.
‘Oi, mate,’ John interrupted. ‘Not the time to be an
‘Ah, right.’ Sherlock’s smirk softened to a sheepish grin
and he turned on the puppy dog eyes as he looked down at his unamused bride. ‘Forgive
me for being a bit tardy? And for sneaking out to take a case after you asked me not to?’
Molly breathed in deeply and tugged him down to face level. ‘Yes.
But you’d better make the rest of our lives worth it.’
‘I certainly intend to.’ Sherlock chuckled, his smile pained
as his ribs protested the action.
With a kiss to his cheek, she stepped away with a smile. ‘Go
get cleaned up so we can move this wedding along.’
He pouted and followed her. ‘Don’t I even get a proper Glad
You’re Not Dead kiss first?’
‘Nope. If you’d been on time, we would already be married
and sneaking away for some ‘alone time’ in the nearest closet,’ she quipped
Sherlock groaned as he watched her sashay away, the back of
her dress dipping to her mid-back and her hair piled high on her head, giving
him a delightful view of the sensuous curve of her neck.
The door clicked shut behind her and he whirled about to the
gaping onlookers, furiously rubbing the dirt from his face. ‘Get me another
his family has been pure long before the world had any concept of purity - surviving, no, thriving on the idea of corruption as the means to remain on their pedestal. it’s a clever sort of wandless magic, really, one that has afforded him the name to hold court in back alleys and hotel ballrooms. and so he smirks, and smokes his contraband cigarettes, and beds girls to piss his father off. but even he knows that you can only want what you are not yet capable of losing.
“Sorry, just going to hang out with the Riots, tonight,” he said.
Fine, Chris Schistad can do whatever the fuck he wants but she doesn’t want him lying to her. She doesn’t want to find his tongue down another girl’s throat at a party when he said he wasn’t going to any.
Eva and Chris aren’t dating. Eva knows that. But lying is another thing.
Why did she take this so personally? Eva could not possibly have feelings for the despicable Christoffer Schistad! Eva is Noora Saetre’s best friend and Noora has taught her that ‘fuckboys’ aren’t worth it.
So, why does her heart crack under the pressure of her feelings when she sees him with someone else?
Why is her mind plagued with the thoughts of her not being good enough as the other girls he makes out with and him not wanting her and her not being good enough for him? Should Eva just stop?
Out of anger, she believes she should slap Chris and end whatever this is between them. But then she tells herself that it’s better to talk it out.. see where he’s coming from. See if there’s a reason?
Eva is still staring at him, from across the room.
He said he was not coming…
Chris’s hands are over a girl, as his lips roughly press kisses to her body. The music isn’t loud enough to block out the negative feelings crawling inside her.
Nothing is enough.
The alcohol coursing through her system isn’t enough. Girl Chris cracking her usual jokes isn’t enough.
She sees red and she sees blue.
Ugh, she thinks. He’s wearing that stupid t-shirt.
The girl drapes across him is playing with the zipper Eva always plays with.
And that’s when Eva looses it.
She’s not even going to apologize for wanting to be the only person who gets to play with that zipper.
And as she’s storming her way to the other side of the room, her feelings finally become clearly.
Eva Mohn likes Chris Schistad and she’s fucked because of it.
Chris wasn’t expecting Eva to be here. he really wasn’t. So, when he felt her hand turn him around, her Eva smell filling his nostrils, he freaks out. The girl he was with left as soon as Eva came.
She knows better than not come in the way of Eva and Chris.
He freaks out completely because she is so going to murder him.
And being Penetrator Chris, he smashed his lips to hers, pulling her jeans clad body to him.
The fireworks are instantly set off between them and, fuck, why?
When Chris was kissing that other girl a few minutes ago, it didn’t feel half as good as this. So, why?
His lips do things to Eva. It makes her mind fog up, so she’s not even able to comprehend the situation. Her judgements become so clouded, she’d take drugs in an instant, if given.
So, yes, that’s what it’s kind of like to kiss Christoffer Schistad.
Or is it only kissing him? A voice makes her overthink.
But, no! She’s supposed to be furious with him! Yes, that’s what she’s supposed to do.
So, mustering enough strength - Chris makes her weak at her knees- she shoves him off her.
“Eva . .” Chris mumbles, trying to kiss her again. But Eva swats his hands away and then grabs his wrist, dragging him down the hallway, where drunk teenagers are desperately making out.
She quickly pulls him into the - thankfully - empty room.
Not understanding where she’s coming from - except for the fact of her catching his lie - Chris smirks. “I thought that Friday nights were reserved for making out only. .”
“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE, CHRISTOFFER!” Eva yells, shoving him. “You lied to me! You fucking lied, you asshole!”
Chris looks at her shocked. Tears brim her eyes and he feels something churn him.
Suddenly, Chris understands that feeling as concern. He doesn’t want her crying over him. Especially him. But girls have cried before him . . Iben cried when they broke up but he didn’t approach her.
What is it that Eva Mohn has of him?
“You told me you were going to hang out with your friends,” Eva accuses, her voice much softer now. Her voice trembled as her brain replayed what she’d seen. “I don’t need you, Christoffer.”
And when she said that, it wasn’t one heart that broke . . it was two.
They both feel as if a sudden weight had been dropped on their shoulders and there is a fierce ache spreading across their chest.
“You should’ve just said it, alright. I don’t need you,” Eva says, poking a finger at his chest. “I don’t need you or your stupid lies. You played me.”
And Chris opens his mouth to say something. But his throat feels dry and he hoarsely whispers, “Eva, I –”
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Eva raises her voice a little. “You think you can play me and walk away? Guess what, you can’t! You can’t fucking lie to me and expect I won’t be mad at you!”
“I lied to you for a reason, Eva Kviig Mohn, alrigh’!”
“I don’t need your pathetic excuses right now, Schistad!”
“Oh, really?” taunts Chris, grabbing her waist. He turns their bodies and slams her straight up against the wall, his hips digging into hers. “Didn’t you think there would be a reason for my lying?” His lips are now pressed softly against her jawline.
“Don’t fuck with me, Chris,” Eva hotly whispers into his ear.
“I needed to get away from you.”
“The only way I wouldn’t directly hurt you.”
Eva pushes him away for the third time.
“You fucker! ‘Wouldn’t hurt me’! What? I fucking saw you with that girl and you thought that I wouldn’t directly be hurt?”
“I lied for a good reason, okay!”
“Really? Oh, please, do tell me!”
“Because being around you does things to me! Things I can’t handle! And staying away from you was helping!”
Eva stops, her eyes wide.
Chris has no idea what he said means. He has no idea that he just admited to liking her - implied, of course.
And Eva tries to ignore the jumps in her heart. She tries to ignore the smile breaking onto her face.
Chris is confused. . what did he say?
But before he can have any realisations, Eva’s grabbed the back of his head and pulled him to her. She quickly angles her head and kisses him, trying to help relieve herself of the feeling building up in her heart.
Chris doesn’t think much, on his part. He hoists her up and presses her against the wall. Groaning, he rocks his hips forward, eliciting a well-earned moan from Eva’s mouth. To satisfy himself even more, he repeats the action, earning the same response.
With his hips holding her firm in place, his hands push her t-shirt up and he kisses her right above her heart.
Eva takes her t-shirt off and throws it across the room, not caring. Getting back on her feet, she unbuckles his belt and unbottons his pants. She doesn’t have time to pull them down because Chris steps into the space between her legs and crafts a love bite onto her neck.
“You and me, Eva,” Chris growls, leading her to the bed.
Eva’s heart flips. And he isn’t giving her false hope. No, he’s actually saying something true. And she’s so grateful.
Eva didn’t expect to be the girl to change Chris. She just wanted the countless amounts of good sex. But . . things change.
Just as he sets her down, Eva chuckles, whispering, “Do you have any idea what you’ve just said?”
I love Philippe and i find to Chevalier very fun, but in this season 2 Chevalier is Psychotic. His jealous and childish behavior has wrecked this ship for me. He does not let Philippe have his space, he is jealous of the whole world and he is so stupid ... he does not seem the same of the first season. He is literally a superficial character, stupid and empty. i´m very dissapointed with him, why he does not take their relationship in a health way? i hate him taking drugs. omg and the money...
Alright Anon, we are going to have a nice little chat. Warning: SEVERE SEASON 2 SPOILERS
His jealous and childish behavior
If you go by history, the Philippes have known each other since they were teenagers roughly 15 years old. They were together basically since then until the year that Monsieur died. In the show it is show canon that they have both announced their love for each other as well as shown it through various interactions including sex, spooning, and crying over one another and protecting one another including saving each others lives. In season 2 they have been seperated for 4 years (2 historically) during which time Chevalier was held in THE worst French prison, Château d'If. I don’t know if you have ever experienced being scared and alone in a foreign country and questioned by the police but let me tell you anon IT IS SO SCARY YOU COULD JUST PISS YOURSELF, and poor Chevalier was in this nasty prison without furniture or windows. It’s quite possible as soon as he was out of there or even before he took up the drugs to deal with it.
He does not let Philippe have his space
Again, they were separated for 4 years, they were and are in love, THEY FUCKING MISSED EACH OTHER. Philippe and Palatine both specifically state int he show that he is only keeping to her bed until she becomes pregnant, it is nothing to do with love on their part, but if you ARE NOT A PSYCHOPATH it is extremely painful to listen to the one you love having sex with someone else, especially when the other person is sweet and charming and in your opinion even better for them than you are yourself. Chevalier was hurting so deeply.
He is literally a superficial character, stupid and empty / is a psychopath.
Sooo a Psychopath is basically someone completely lacking in empathy or remorse. Basically someone unfeeling - and you are calling THE CHEVALIER a Psychopath…right….are we watching the same show here?
I’m just going to answer this one with pictures.
Here is him cheering up Philippe when they are both on Cloud 9 from Chevalier’s return to France
Here is Chevalier’s face when he is out of Philippe’s sight as he reads the wedding plans, definitely not looking sad about his emotional attachments here nope. Note, he is upset about the wedding before Palatine even arrives because their short short little honeymoon after his return is going to be cut short so soon.
Here he is, yes, doing drugs - I am not supporting this as a coping mechanism BUT THATS WHAT HE IS USING IT FOR. This is during Philippe’s wedding night and he thoroughly believes that Philippe is having sex with Palatine at that exact moment and that when he wakes up tomorrow he will have forgotten him. He is afraid that the person he has loved for YEARS is abandoning him. Of course he aches, of course he wants to forget.
After he heard Liselotte and Philippe having sex, he thought that it was the final straw, that he had completely lost Philippe’s love despite her trying to assure him otherwise. He is crushed. Completely and utterly crushed.
He is terrified that after waiting for him for 4 years Philippe doesnt want him anymore, and the reward he gets is Philippe sleeping around with Palatine and Thomas and not HIM (from his point of view). If he didn’t love Philippe so much he could marry for money, for power, for influence, for his place int he court, but he LOVES Philippe and he will not. Without Philippe, he loses everything. He is driven to the brink and when he turns to Philippe, he is cruelly pushed away by Philippe’s cold dismissive attitude and it pushes him to suicide, but Philippe stops him. THAT is how badly off this “psychopath” is over love in this season.
Thomas Beaumont KNOWS that Chevalier will be an obstacle in trying to get rid of Philippe, and so he tries to have Chevalier killed. In the end, Chevalier kills a man to save Philippe’s life. HOW MUCH SHIT does Chevalier have to go through before you and everyone else believes the true depths of his feelings for Philippe?
How come he doesn’t have a healthy relationship you ask? Because he and Philippe are trapped in the grand scheme of power play in Versailles, by Louis’ hand and the politics of all of Europe. Because France needs a backup heir to maintain stability - Philippe has to marry a woman and have a child and that unfortunately means, the man who loves him has to suffer for it, they both have to suffer for it. Its not healthy of course it’s not, but it’s real.
Why the money? Because Philippe was ignoring him and that was one sure fire way to get his attention in a world so caught up in it.
Why the drugs? To cope with the pain.
tldr: Chevalier deeply, deeply loves Philippe and would kill or die for him and that is why he behaves as he does in season 2
Intro: So this is my extremely late entry to @atari-writes birthday challenge that was due AUGUST 31st yes I am a terrible person I know - and I just looked at their blog and they are on a hiatus oh no! I am so so so so sorry! If you see this I give you lots of hugs and apologies to the moon and back.
With the prompts “He told me he liked me and I’m gonna go make out with him right now. On his face.” and “Your hair is so soft…”
Pairing: Scotty x reader
Word Count: 1,458
Summary: You come back from an away mission after being attacked by a mysterious plant that causes you to forget things and go all crazy. Dr. McCoy is putting you back together, and Scotty is worried sick, though when you forget certain details about him, he is sure to remind you. <3
A/N: I have no idea if this is any good or not. I wrote it on my shift at the cafe I work at. I hope you like it!
“Argh, Leonard is she gonnae be alrigh’?”
There was a grunt as the two men eased you down onto the biobed, but you arms flailed wildly and you cried ‘weeee’ as you crashed down unceremoniously.
“Should be, Scott, can you just tell me what happened again?” Leonard asked as he straightened up, sliding your legs onto the biobed so you were laying on it, and immediately beginning to assess you with his tricorder.
“Uh, yeah,” Scotty pushed his hair back with his hand, “we were jus’ goin’ through the forest, as we were suppose t’a, mindin’ our own business, looking for samples when outta nowhere I look back and she’s on the ground with this giant plant arm attached t’her leg. She dinnae even scream or anythin’, so I kill the bloody thing, an’ she’s been loopy ever since.”
“No blackouts, she didn’t hit her head or have trouble breathing?” Leonard asked above your sudden high-pitched giggles.
“Nae.” Scotty shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest and chewing on his pinky nail as he looked over at you.
Leonard clicked his tricorder closed and turned to Scotty, “Well she seems stable right now, so I will keep monitoring her, but we really need to find out what the plant was, to make sure it’s not toxic or anything, so maybe go find Spock and try to identify it.”
Scotty hesitated for a moment, not wanting to leave you in case anything happened, but conceded. “Okay, but promise to…”
“I’ll com you right away if anything changes.”
Scotty nodded, a worried smirk on his lips as he gave a last glance at you before heading out the door.
I’m worried I can’t be punk because I’m not interested in alcohol or drugs...
Andy: Punk is more than alcohol or drugs… those two things aren’t mutually inclusive to punk culture.
Punk is an attitude, it’s a belief, its a political statement, and it’s a way of life.
Do a lot of punks do drugs and drink? Yes. But then again so do a bunch of ‘club kids’ and even politicians.
I’m a little offended that you think drinking and drugs are a prerequisite to being a punk. It’s taking a deeper ideology and stripping of literally everything it stands for. The idea that you have to ‘conform’ to ‘fit in’ is everything that punk stands against.
Punk isn’t an image, it’s a belief and how you stand up for it. Stripping it down to its stereotypes and thinking that it is the most important thing about being punk is the polar opposite of why it exists.
There are several straight edge punks (punks that do not drink, smoke, swear, do drugs, etc.) that are just as badass as those who do all those things. It’s their right as an individual, not a trend they follow. They are no less punk because of it. They are no better because of it either. It’s individuality and *that* is punk culture. Understanding that is the first step to identifying as a punk. Without that, you miss the point entirely.
Long story short, do what you want and stand up for what you believe in, and then you will be punk.
*nonchalantly* Sherlock, do you remember when you got high in college?
Mummy & Daddy Holmes:
*look up* What?!
*hisses* You little snitch! *sighs* Alright, fine...it's true. I had a...drug problem.
*sighs* Oh, William...
*smug* And your stolen science magazines, Daddy. Not the postman.
Mummy & Daddy Holmes:
*glare at Sherlock*
*puts down his cutlery* And I suppose the freak storm of '84 broke the garden swing, Mycroft?
Mummy & Daddy Holmes:
*look at Mycroft, disappointed*
Molly, John & Mary:
*frowning* Sherlock has been sleeping with Molly for eight months.
*chokes on her drink*
Mummy & Daddy Holmes:
*delighted* Oh, my God...
*wide-eyed* Mycroft is living with his PA!
*grins* Anthea? Oh, I like her...
*now standing* Sherlock is planning to propose to Molly on their case trip next week!
*on his feet; quickly* Oh, God, shut up!
Mummy & Daddy Holmes:
*sighs* I love James Dean.
*whispers* Isn't he dead, love?
*reading the recipe magazine* Uh, Mary...I don’t think lamb goes in that pudding.
*pounding the table* I wanna gooooooo!
*rubbing her temples* That’s a lot of information to get in in thirty seconds! *shakes her head* Alright you two... *gestures at Mary and Greg* of course you weren’t supposed to put lamb in the pudding. It was bloody awful.
*mutters* Told you.
*looks to Sherlock* William, why you felt you had to hide the fact that you were in an important relationship is beyond me.
*to Mycroft* And the swing was pretty obvious, son.
*darkly* Don't think you've gotten away with the drugs, either.
Sherlock & Mycroft:
*bow their heads*
*smiles, holds Molly's hand* Molly, sweetheart. You’ve been sleeping with him all these months, stayed through the drug problems...
*rolls his eyes*
*beaming* Well, I don’t know what to say. You’re a wonderful human being.
*blushes* Thank you.
No! Thank you! *hugs her; turns to his sons* Sherlock, Mycroft! I don’t know what I’m going to do with the pair of you!