Johnlock and Drarry's Many Adventures

Here me out, the heathers (maybe musical)but johnlock

For those confused, the heathers is a film from 1988, and there is a musical out you can find on YouTube

Still accepting prompts on either blog!

Sherlock and John arguing and John yelling, “no wonder you don’t have friends!” and Sherlock just subtly stepping closer and saying “you’re right, i don’t have friends, because you’re more than a friend to me, John.”

It wasn't like he needed to go to college. Colleges were viturally useless. After all, they might provide the idiots some bit of knowledge, but they were for the much too slow minded. Sherlock sure didn't belong there. But according to the yard they weren't even going to consider listening to what he had to say until he could prove that he actually knew what he was talking about. Having skipping all the gen ed classes with a simple test, he was taking some of the supposedly more interesting classes that had to do with the policing field. And they weren't too impressed by his work, thinking he thought way into their simple minded projects.  Grumpy but a bright twenty year old, Sherlock Holmes used to go to this sweet little pastry and coffee shop that was owned by some old 'friend's' who used to give him free things because of the fact he made sure the person who murdered/tortured their sister was put on death row, a rather interesting story that Sherlock did love to share to random strangers who weren't able to escape Sherlock's ramblings when his skull wasn't around.  Today wasn't any different, it had been a rather long morning and Sherlock wanted a nice cup of coffee and one of his favorite sweets from a non-brand store like Skippy's, his favorite. But when he started to open the door, he noticed something. There was a sign on the door, and it wasn't the sign that said that they were open. "Bankrupt... Soon... Starbucks?!" Sherlock scowled, turning around and even shooting the wall wasn't cutting it. It was part of his routine, and he liked it there. People didn't call him a weirdo as often because they just knew who he was.  The following week Sherlock just happened to be passing by his old favorite shop, when he noticed all the differences. First off, they completely redid the store and now it looked like a generic idiotic idiot attracting stereotype that was the Starbucks franchise. It was complete with chirpy idiots behind the counters, people who looked like they needed to cut the amount of sugar that was in their diet because it looked like their face was hurting from the amount of smiling they were doing. The place was even bloody busy, which Sherlock hated. All those people talking, just mindless chatter that didn't get anywhere. It was completely and utterly useless. That place was supposed to be different. It was a place of mediocre coffee and extremely sweet treats, and it was supposed to be his place to go.  Scowling once more and about to find a way to get this place shut down- maybe by using that chemical that he had been working with, when he saw someone who just plainly caught his eye. He was a rather short man, blonde hair, blue eyes, and obviously in his first year of college based on the amount of sleep he was getting, the increase on the back of his uniform, and the school books not very well hidden underneath the counter where he obviously had been trying to study at the same time. He hadn't been sleeping, but yet, he still had the brightest smile in the place, and seemed to be the one who was attracting everyone in the first place. Bright blue eyes to match his smile, he just seemed to charm everyone. Sure, Sherlock had sworn not to take one step into this Starbucks, but... This man he was just completely curious about.  The next day, Sherlock had just completed a case where a man had tried to train a snake to eat his enemies- of course it didn't work and he ended up being swallowed as well- but that wasn't he important part. He found himself heading to his old favorite place, and the boy was there once more, except the place seemed to be less busy, and the boy was deep into his studying, yet he still had the simplest smile on his face. Sherlock cleared his throat, putting on the charming smile that he knew people liked the best, heading into the Starbucks, heading straight to the counter. "Medical student, eighteen years of age, been sleeping on your... Friends couch for several days, and are studying for a big test this upcoming... Friday." Sherlock said, studying him, and the man looked up, completely shocked.  "I-I... Erm..." John blinked, flushing furiously. How could this man possibly know that much about him? He hadn't even got the chance to say anything before he was telling him a lot more.  "Not only that, but you're going into the army soon, it'll help to get farther into the medical field. A bit rough way of doing so, but if that's what you like..." Sherlock pulled out his arm. "Sherlock Holmes. And you're... John." Sherlock's eyes lowered to John's name tag, before looking at the book. "H. Watson. Interesting name..." Sherlock mumbled the last part and John finally seemed to find something to say.  "That's right. John. Did... D-Did you want to order something, Sir?" John asked, completely forgetting his charm, flustered over the man telling him all of this. "I mean, it's all brilliant but there is a line behind you now, and... Y-yeah." And the man was completely adorable. No one seemed to mind waiting to get his attention.  Sherlock's eyes moved to glance behind him. "I'll have a coffee and whichever pastry you recommend. Not too dull though. By the way, the address... 221b Baker Street." Sherlock winked, and that didn't seem to get John's cheeks any less red.  "Excuse me?" His voice was adorable, a higher squeak as he was obviously trying to understand what was going on. He was a poor student because of all the debt that his sister was building up, and just plainly being a medical student. It was rough. And Sherlock was trying to get this place, and it was so boring to get it alone. The boy would be a fine roommate, until he went off to war that was. But that was still a year on. Well, roughly ten months.  "My address. You can't stay on your friend's couch forever, their starting to get annoyed with you. It's perfectly understandable of course. 221b Baker Street. It's a nice place, nice land lady. Come on by after your shift ends. Around... six thirty." Sherlock grinned, before turning around, leaving John speechless. After a few minutes, one word slipped out, breathy, showing his fascination.  "Brilliant." 

the first time sherlock gets stung by a bee he thinks he’s dying and he makes a huge ordeal out of it while john patiently and silently pulls the sting out, puts ointment on it and forces sherlock to wear hello kitty bandits as punishment muttering about bees and “how could they betray me” while john rolls his eyes and drinks his tea in silence

"John!" Sherlock called out, and from the way he sounded panicked, John was sure that it was truly an emergency. Cursing as he nicked himself shaving, he put down the razor, putting a towel to his face to try and stop the bleeding, and rushed downstairs with wet soapy hair, and a towel around his waist. "What? What is it Sherlock? You alright?" John asked a little bit worried himself- Sherlock knew that he was taking a shower and he hadn't ever called him like that while he was in before. He knew not to. Even if he did 'tell him' something he just spoke it. He didn't shout for him. He looked at Sherlock, examining him. He seemed perfectly fine except he was pinching his forefinger and he seemed to be... pouting. "Sherlock?" "They stung me." Sherlock cursed, staring at his finger. "They stung me! I care for them and make sure they get everything they need and want, and I'm trying to save their species and I know everything about them and they stung me." Sherlock lifted his finger, showing it to John. "Stung me." "Who did what now?" John asked, looking at Sherlock, waiting for the real emergency that stole him away from his shower.  "I got stung by a bee! And it really hurts. They broke my trust." Sherlock showed him the stinger once more and without a word John went and started to pull it out as Sherlock named facts about bees and how he cared for him. He was adorable sometimes, but a big baby. Stung by a bee... He was wearing a towel! "It's hello kitty John. Where the hell did you get it?! Hello kitty." Sherlock complained with a frown after John had finished cleaning up.  "Punishment, Sherlock. Sweet revenge."

imagine Sherlock seeing John on the tube every day and falling in love with him from afar, and starting to make sure to take the tube at the same time in the same train car every time to catch glimpses of him, and then one day John gets pushed onto the tracks and Sherlock jumps on after him and rolls them out of the way just before the train comes, and as they’re lying underneath the side of the platform edge John’s like “You’re the hot bloke on my train every morning” 

Every morning he had the same routine. He got up, he went to breakfast, he brushed his teeth and groomed himself and he left, walking to the tube, and he took the same train car every day. He saw this handsome man every day. Very tall, black curly hair, eyes filled with the universe, and he always seemed to be thinking about something. He never seemed to be going to the same place, and sometimes he didn't even stay in the same spot. Sometimes he didn't even get on the tube, but instead he just studied around. John didn't understand, but he didn't have the courage to actually ask the stranger.  But one day, John was moving forward toward the gorgeous stranger, wanting to ask why he was leaning forward, to ask him if he knew how dangerous that was when he accidently slipped and just as he had nearly regained his balance someone shoved him because they were in a hurry. With an undignified squeak he fell onto the tracks, a small groan escaping him as he moved, feeling where the bruises were starting to heal. He didn't think he had any internal bleeding, but he was sure his wrist was strained.  Then he heard a loud noise, and he froze. The tube was coming. Trying to move he whimpered, but suddenly he heard a voice and he was rolled out of the way just in time, and by the time he opened his eyes the tube was long gone. The stranger was the one on top of him.  And his eyes were even more beautiful than he had seen from afar.  "You're.... You're the handsome bloke who's always on my train every morning." John stammered out, and Sherlock's cheeks flushed.  "And.... You're an ex-army doctor who has been trying to speak to me for a while now. Don't you know standing that close to the tracks isn't very safe?" John laughed at that. "I was just going to tell you that." Sherlock's cheeks flushed a bit.  "Well I'm not the one who fell in. " "Touche."

But guys… Sherlock trying to bake Ms. Hudson a birthday cake with John’s help and it ending it a cake batter fight that Ms. Hudson has to clean up anyways because Sherlock and John are too busy licking it off one another 😍

Sherlock wanted to make a cake. He had been told it was traditional for someone to make a birthday cake to celebrate the tradition of the mother to have given birth. And Mrs. Hudson was someone very important to him so it seemed it was up to him. Explaining this to John, he finally agreed as long as it was just a normal birthday cake and nothing abnormal about it at all. Needing John's help, Sherlock was forced to agree.  Getting all the ingredients out, Sherlock studied him carefully- how he cracked the eggs and how he should have done it better, how he got the egg shells out of it, and maybe he was blocking out John's instructions but they weren't important. He was working, and slipping into his mind palace, he didn't realize John was shouting at him. That was, until he found a cracked egg on his head.  "J-John!" Sherlock choked out surprised, egg yolk slime-ing up his hair, and now his hand because he had touched it. Well... That was a sign of war, wasn't it? He grabbed a handful of flour, throwing it right at John, and soon John was covered in the white substance.  "That's it. If it's war you want..." John grabbed the batter he had been whisking, and Sherlock ducked, but of course, that wasn't fast enough.  "I give! I give." Sherlock finally said, laughing too hard, John pinning him to the floor, Sherlock having more batter on him than John, but everything still was a mess. John ran his tongue up Sherlock's neck and Sherlock gasped. "W-What are you doing?" Sherlock asked and John just hummed.  No one noticed Mrs. Hudson come in. Nor did they notice the fact she cleaned it all up. Although she had no cake, she was very satisfied those two idiots finally realizing they had something together. And it was a birthday wish she wanted granted. 

john goes out of town for a medical conference for a few days and when he comes back he can’t find sherlock and greg’s said he hasn’t seen him all week and john’s ready to call myc and start really freaking out because sherlock isn’t answering his damn phone and then he goes upstairs and sherlock’s fast asleep in john’s bed uwu

John told Sherlock over and over again that he had to go away for a medical conference and every time he mentioned it Sherlock seemed to shrug it off as if it was nothing. Every single time he asked if he was going to have something to do while he was gone, he got no reply. He assumed he was heard, he made sure Sherlock wasn't in his mind palace. And Sherlock didn't seem to notice him when he was packing. And when he told Sherlock he was going to the airport he didn't get so much as a grunt.  During the conference he didn't have contact with anyone. He couldn't ask how Sherlock was doing, and he couldn't ask if he was driving Mrs. Hudson insane yet. He couldn't even know if Sherlock was on a case. So of course John was happy to be coming home a couple weeks later. But when he went to Baker Street he couldn't see Sherlock, and so he went to the yard, thinking maybe he had a case there.  However, when he arrived before he could even ask about Sherlock, Lestrade was going on asking about Sherlock and where he had been, and if he was alright. Of course, this made John's heart jump. Sherlock was /gone/. He went back to Baker Street and was just about to start calling Mycroft because god dammit Sherlock wasn't picking up, but then he heard a strange noise.  A small little groaning noise, as if someone was shifting from a position and they regretted moving at all. John put his phone down, following the noise cautiously. "Hello? Someone there?" John called out, but of course, nothing came in reply. Moving up the stairs, he saw all the rooms were empty except John's door was closed. It was never closed. Was he...? "Sherlock?" John asked, opening the door.  He looked around, but found nothing wrong. Then he noticed his bed. It looked like someone had taken every blanket and pillow in the flat, putting it in one place, and under the bundle was... Movement. "Sherlock..." John breathed out, relaxing, moving toward it, gently uncovering Sherlock's face which brought a small whine.  John moved closer, feeling Sherlock's skin. He was warm. Very warm. Of course, this brought Sherlock awake, and his face turned a bit red. "John?" Sherlock asked confused, a hand coming untangled to rub his eyes. "Where have you been?" Sherlock looked up into John's eyes.  "I told you I had a- Nevermind then. Let's get you up. I'm sure you haven't eaten since I left."

let’s all take an autumn moment to imagine john and sherlock curled up in a cozy cabin somewhere in front of a fireplace, drinking steamy beverages, cuddling and talking until they fall asleep on each other 

Sherlock was very nervous about going on the Ferris wheel. After all they were rather high up and there was no reason for someone to go on such a ride. And besides, they rocked and there was no reason for that either. But of course his boyfriend had insisted that they go on it after Sherlock had very clearly said that he wanted to be no where near that thing. There had been enough accidents with those things and that sort of thing wasn't something he could solve in time. But being dragged along and seeing how excited John seemed about it, he went along with it. John was smiling. He just seemed so happy with those bright eyes. How could he say no? "John, I don't see why this is so interesting. After all you know what London looks like I don't see why you would ever have to see it from up higher. And if you did couldn't you just take a plane, or even just look it up. You don't really need to see it in person-" Sherlock started, once he started talking it turned into a long rambling, him continuing his words until they were blurs of statistics and ways that the Ferris Wheel was clearly unsafe- not that his boyfriend was listening one bit. He just seemed excited. "Th-There clearly unsafe." Sherlock finally finished but John just kept pulling on. "Don't you worry, Sherlock! They are to safe. And they might rock but that's all part of the fun. It just makes it more interesting. And don't you want to see all of London? It's beautiful." John said, and soon they were on their way up. Sherlock leaned back nervous, clinging to the bar lightly before they were starting to go up and as they did his grip got tighter until soon his hand was red and his knuckles were white from clutching.  Of course, that was when John started to rock them and Sherlock clung tighter before clinging onto John, and John laughed, continuing to rock it ignoring the glares he was getting from Sherlock, not minding how tight he was getting held onto. It had to be the best fair he had ever gotten to go to. After all, it was the only fair he got to go to where he got Sherlock Holmes to hold onto him for safety. Even if he had to make him scared first.  If it meant having his boyfriend, it was all worth it.