#will holmes

The end result is worth all the shenanigans, though.

Welcome to the world, William Arturo Holmes!

Objectively, I know he has the same wrinkled, tiny-old-man look as most newborns... but he's still one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen.

Compromise was not a word with which Sherlock Holmes was very familiar.

But that was before.

Before John and Mary. Before Moriarty. Before...everything.

Time had humbled him and the mask he wore to hide his own vulnerability slipped bit by bit until the day he cast it aside with just 3 little words.

But it was worth it. Lord, was it worth it.

Some days were harder than others. Days, like today, when he wanted to pout and demand his own way, make them do what he wanted without all this unnecessary and tedious groveling and pleading. 

It was a lesson hard learned, though, that his tantrums no longer held any sway. If anything, they became a source of amusement the few times he had caved to the temptation to throw a fit.

“Just one. Please?”

God, how had it come to this? The great Sherlock Holmes, sitting at his own kitchen table, visibly wrecked, covered in splatters of green mash, trying to beguile his own offspring into eating a single spoonful of mashed peas.

He was near tears at this point. 

From his perch, fastened in a seven-point harness courtesy of his uncles’ helicopter fussing, little Will, the spitting image of his father, scowled up at him and adamantly refused to open his mouth.

Streaks of green covered his cherubic cheeks but not a single dollop had made it into his mouth. They were down to the last bite in the jar, the rest covered the floor and Sherlock.

“One bite, Will. And then we can go to the park?”

Not good enough. Will started to turn red and jerked his face away from the proffered spoon, a tantrum brewing behind his ice blue eyes. Hysteria for both Holmes boys was imminent and Sherlock briefly wondered if his parents, the off-continent gits, were suddenly struck with the desire to laugh. They had made it clear on many an occasion that Will was an easy child compared to himself, obviously taking after his mother in temperament.

Except right now, apparently.

Sherlock grimaced. He had no other choice. He hadn’t wanted to admit defeat, but it seemed inevitable.

“One bite,” Sherlock capitulated. “And we’ll go visit Mummy at work.”

The moment the word ‘mummy’ passed Sherlock’s lips, Will’s face lit up with a bright smile. “Mu’y!” He cried out and eagerly grabbed for the spoon, the taste of mashed peas suddenly more palatable when it meant he could see his mum.

Sherlock sighed wearily and set about cleaning his son’s face, the little boy bouncing excitedly. “Traitor.”

Will giggled at his father’s grumpy face.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. She does have both of us wrapped around her finger, doesn’t she?” He unbuckled Will and lifted him into his arms. “Bath first for both us, though. Can’t let Mummy see the mess we made.”

“Mu’wy!” Will repeated, happily babbling his favourite (only) word over and over again as they got ready. Sherlock tried to coax him to say “da-da” but his son was a stubborn little thing who went right on singing his mother’s praises.

Chapters: 14/? Fandom: Sherlock (TV) Rating: Explicit

Will blinked. “So… you… like it?”

John’s warm breath ghosted over his face. “I love it. It’s perfect. It’s ours .” He cupped Will’s face in his hands and drew him down, pressing their lips together. John’s mouth was warm and soft, and Will felt his knees buckle in relief. John chuckled and slid his arms around him once more, reaching one hand down to tug them even closer together. Their kisses deepened, tongues meeting and sliding together as they moved toward the bed.

Shoutout to @jbaillier for making this gorgeous cover. *HEARTY HEART EYES* I mean, LOOOOK AT THEM <3 <3 <3  

Just tags below the cut.

Will seems to adore her, too.

...should I be worried about my infant son rizzing up my girlfriend? Because honestly, I'm starting to have some concern.

When I set him down on his new play mat and try to interest him in the toys that dangle from its soft arches, Will proves that he's also inherited a certain Weaponized Pout.

Of course, when we're both home, our little man gets all the attention he wants.

"You're getting so big," Malia says as he finishes off a bottle. "Who told you that you could grow up so fast, huh?"

Will coos, then lets out a loud burp.

It would have been a nice bonus if Felix answered himself, but I can't hold back my grin when I see Felicia's face on the screen.

I carefully hold Will up to the camera. "Hey, Auntie Felicia, look who's here!"