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rabbit-in-blue · 3 years ago

Note

I almost forgot to send a sentence hehe! Here’s one for sherlolly sss- “I’m not saying you were wrong, but one of us was right and it wasn’t you.”

Last week due to technical problems with the power, I was not able to fulfill this promt. Yet I decided to wait until today to use it as the official closing of the six sentences Saturday, or six sentences Sunday on Saturday ... he he..

P.S. In the future I will continue to receive one sentence prompts, but I will not keep calling them six sentences nothing since I can never really finish a story in six sentences.

@writingwife-83 i hope you enjoy this

We need to talk

Something has been off about Molly Hooper, if Sherlock didn't know better, he would think she seems almost… depressed... As if something had drained all energy from her, she is constantly exhausted, she has been losing her appetite, and her always cheerful disposition and sweet sunshine demeanor has been displaced by a taciturn fazade. She has slowly withdrawn herself from Baker street, little by little and on the now rare occasions that she spends the night, her sleep is uneasy. She gets up several times a night and wanders aimlessly around the flat, or lock herself in the washroom. Sherlock has wanted to go to her in those moments, and make sure that she is okay, but in his first two forays, Molly has made a big deal about she waking him up and has ended up on the verge of tears, so now whenever she gets, Sherlock prefers to pretend to be asleep.

Sherlock, being Sherlock, has too been through different stages, for the last weeks from sincere although moderate concern, to fear and uneasy, to absolute and total panic, especially since he was available to conclude that, after three years, nine months and twenty-eight days of romantic relationship he could not longer make Molly Hooper happy. Sherlock is afraid of losing the love of his life, so on one London many rainy days in witch he finds himself confined to his flat, he decides to share those fears with his friend and colleague Doctor John Watson.

"You know mate?" says Doctor Watson while lifting a cup of tea, Mrs. Hudson has just arranged for him from the tray. "There are countless causes for depression ... it doesn't necessarily have to do with you ..."

"Even so ... if she is going through something ... and don’t know what it is, if I am not able to help her, or at least deduce what is wrong ... Am I not failing her as romantic partner?" the detective says staring into blank space with his hands clasped under his chin …

"Well" said Dr. Watson, trying very discreetly to askance at the wall clock, only to decide that it was still too early for whiskey altho it seems his friend could use a drink right now ... "ok, this is crazy and a little radical even," said the man, conspiratorially throwing his torso forward and patting his friend's knee twice, “but haven't you thought about talking to her?"

"I'm afraid," the detective mumbling almost inaudibly after a very brief but deep pause.

"Sorry what?" replies the doctor without explaining if he has not heard correctly or just cannot believe what he is hearing ...

"I'm afraid, John" repeats the detective, frustrated, looking directly into his friend's eyes for the first time that day.

Sherlock is no one to oftenly cry, as John has known, but he can see the emotion washing all over his face, even without a tear being shed. "I'm afraid of what answer I'm going to get," the detective says again before concentrating his gaze once more on the void.

Well, mate" Dr. Watson reiterates, compassionately, while gently squeezing his friend's shoulder, in a gesture of deep empathy. "It can't be worse than uncertainty." Their gazes meet again and Watson can clearly see fear and the pain, but also a glimmer of hope behind those clear blue eyes and it's then like an epiphany, that Docto Watson makes his very own deduction “Sherlock...” the former army doctor says thoughtfully, “what if, wasn't depression, but something else?"

"Like what?" ask blandly the consulting detective

"Maybe she's pregnant," says John hesitantly.

“For God's sake, John” the detective will respond heatedly and clearly offended “I, corrct and successfully deduced your wife's pregnancy, from three random comments she made on your wedding day, I think I would have realized right away if the woman I am having sex with, is curently preagnead, dont you think?”

"So you two are still having sex..." Doctor Watson asks… states, completely disarming his detective friend whose face almost automatically have turn in all shades of red know by menkind

"Well... it's complicated... she... it seems like ... she has been wanting to... but then she ... a-and then I ..." the detective begins to stumble, when his gentle stutters are interrupted by a text alert, which he immediately reads aloud after retrieving the phone from his dressing gown pocket in the most obvious attempt of deflect subjects.

«We need to talk, can you come over?»

Sherlock Holmes’s world seems to sink as he realizes the message is from Molly. John gets it… after all, when was the last time anything good came out from a woman saying We need to talk?

Sadly, Doctor John Watson, will not see the end of this episode, another hour will pass and he will need to pick up Rosy from school, while Sherlock keeps buffering his girlfriend's text message. It will not be until hours later, when the former army doctor is preparing his daughter for bed, that the great detective will gain show signs of life a text message, which will read

«John, guess what? We're having a baby S.H »

Dr. Watson can't help but smile at the good news and has started typing his congratulations to the happy couple, when a mischievous feeling assails him, and instead he will send the following text to his friend

«I’m not saying you were wrong, but one of us was right and it wasn’t you...»

the end

#sherolly #sherlolly free form #six sentence saturday #my writing #sherlolly fandom #sherlock #bbcsherlock #sherlock holmes #molly hooper #john watson #friends talk #sherlock holmes/molly hooper #sherlock x molly #molly x sherlock #mollock

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onthesandsofdreams · 3 years ago

Note

Fic Prompt: Sherlolly, Timing

But There’s No Better Love

Rating: T Summary: Molly looked over at Sherlock’s sleeping form next to her and smiled softly. Words: 410 Notes: A series of short stories (100 to 500 words) centered around them. All sorts of verses. Warnings and/or notes will be the note in the chapter. @mousedetective this series is for you, if at any point you have prompts, feel free to send them!

Read @ AO3

Molly looked over at Sherlock’s sleeping form next to her and smiled softly.

If someone had told her, some years previously that she and Sherlock would actually get together, she might have not entirely believe them. Yes, she had been nursing a crush and feelings that eventually grew to be love, but Sherlock had not given any sign of noticing her beyond what he needed her and her services.

She had tried to move on, she had dated and even gotten engaged, doing her best to move on from Sherlock, but it had not worked very well. No matter how much she tried, her heart always came back to Sherlock.

Helping him fake his death had been hard. To pretend grief and make sure that no one would suspect her, from lying to their friends in order to properly be able to help Sherlock. But still, she would have never imagined that she mattered to Sherlock beyond friendship and being an ally in his work.

Until Eurus had forced her to say the words out loud.

Until she had found that she had underestimated Sherlock, because she would have never expected to matter the most to him.

Talking after everything had been emotionally draining. To realize after many years of longing, that which her heart wanted the most was within her reach had been somewhat painful. Until Sherlock had said those three words she had so desperately needed to hear. Her heart soared, even when her vision blurred with tears, the happiness that washed over her was something unlike anything she had felt before.

Kissing Sherlock had made fireworks explode behind the lids of her eyes. Her own heart racing and her hands shook. It was amazing, how with a single kiss, Sherlock had managed to turned her back into a giddy teenager.

And while she didn’t know if she and Sherlock would be a forever thing – even if she hoped they were – she would enjoy every minute of their love. Discovering the physicality of their love had satisfied a hunger inside of her she had not expected to find. Much less, that she would be so greedy. But her joy at their joining was something she would never exchange for anything.

She realized now, that they both needed to grow. They both needed the experiences they had lived for them to finally understand they belonged with one another. The timing had to be right.

And now, it finally was.

#sherlolly #molly x sherlock #molly hooper #sherlock holmes #sherlock fic #sherlock #post canon fic #series: but there's no better love

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thisisartbylexie · 4 years ago

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Sherlolly Appreciation Week - 2020 Fic Rec Post

@sherlollyappreciationweek is this week and I’ve had my head not screwed on straight and missed daily posting. Which means y’all are going to deal with a single LONG post of Sherlolly Fic Recs. I’m making up for timeliness by dumping more recs than anyone asked for. Buckle up.

(tl:dr - Listen, you can find every flavor of Sherlolly fic curated like a Willy Wonka’s factory over on @miz-joelys-sherlollilists, but I have curated a gourmet banquet for you right here. Please leave feedback for the creators.)

DAY ONE - Gone But Not Forgotten (WIPs/Incomplete Fics)

I left a review and am also recommending The Ghost and Molly Hooper by doctor_WTF. This is the story of Molly who purchased 221B Baker St only to find that the last inhabitant died, but never really left. This is set as an AU with the context of TRF.

Also gonna recommend A Line to Cross by @blogyourfeelingsaway. This is an AU where Molly doesn’t actually like Sherlock at first, much to his surprise...

Delayed For A Little While by @lono285. A Princess Bride AU we don’t deserve.

DAY TWO - Angst Fest

Phoenix by @lono285. This is the author’s summary: Nothing could bring Molly Hooper back to life. He saw her final breath leave her body. But with a few short words from a nameless voice on the telephone, he realized the resumed beating of his heart had a name: hope.

Ghost of A Girl by Alethnya. Author’s summary: Death, as it turns out, wasn't quite as final as Molly had always believed. Fear not, you will smile at the end, I promise.

All You Ever Wanted At Just The Wrong Time by @soyeahso. This wasn’t what Molly expected being a relationship with Sherlock would be like.

The Coffin-Maker’s Lullaby by @hobbitsdoitbetter. This is ANGST but it’s more like catharsis post-S4.

But if you’re REALLY looking for The Pain Train, take the emotional tour via The Gods Have [No] Mercy by TuesdayTerrible. This is a soulmate AU.

Also, The Five Stages of an Illogical Death by AndInTimeThisTooShallPass. It’s exactly what you think it is.

DAY THREE - When We Were Young (S1 & S2)

A Beautiful Mind by jankmusic. I have a theme for fics, apparently, because this one is also super emotional. This is set vaguely in the S2 timeline, but it’s an amnesia fic that starts with established Sherlolly. But then...

Her Last Bow by @PetraTodd. This is just after S2. Author’s summary: Like a knight going off to war, when Sherlock goes off to fight Moriarty's network, he takes a favor from Molly Hooper. (Of course, favors are normally *given* but Sherlock isn't really one for manners.)

All The Things Said and Unsaid by @elixirbb. Molly goes with Sherlock after The Fall.

Every Time and Always by @flaignhan. Written just after S2.01 aired.

Do I even need to mention The Full House and Always Something by @emceefrodis? Because like, that should be part of the Sherlollian Bible or something.

DAY FOUR - Bust Out (Comedy Gold)

Friends Like These by @elixirbb. Sherlolly post-S2 from Lestrade’s POV.

A Little Inspiration by @lilsherlockian1975. Humor with some angst, but a fun read.

If You Like It... by ll_again. ...put a ring on it. Post-S3 where Molly and the Holmes parents form a friendship.

The New Conception by Quarto. Post-S3 ish. Author’s summary: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single consulting detective in possession of an undercover assignment must be in want of a wife.

DAY FIVE - EPIC (Long Fics)

A Fearful Hope Was All The World by @miabicicletta . End of the world AU that somehow hits HARD especially now. Not for the emotionally fragile, but there’s still HEA.

In matters of the heart by TheSapphireSky. Regency AU. There’s mystery and heart-wrenching emotion with our favorite idiots. It’s *chef’s kiss*.

The Signs of the Four by Emma_Lynch. Victorian AU you’re looking for.

The Necessary Mother by darthsydious. Victorian AU where Sherlock is a single father and Molly comes to help him. This isn’t on AO3, so I will tag with the warning of character death (secondary, but still gutting due to period typical mortality).

Molly Hooper and the Flagon Nocturnal by Zoa. It’s a CRIME that this Indiana Jones AU doesn’t have more comments.

In general, if you’re looking for LONG fics, check out the 2015 Sherlolly Big Bang Collection. Every fic has a minimum of 25K.

DAY SIX - Fluffy Friday

So I like my fluff with a side of angst (for ~flavor~).

Order From Chaos by MaybeItsJustMyType. Soulmate AU.

Semantics by @geekmama. Sap everywhere.

Intuit by ClassySpanks. Molly runs away to Switzerland.

Zephyr by @writingwife-83. A Victorian AU arranged marriage.

I also had to mention Wedding Day by floosilver8. This is Groundhog Day-set up, Molly POV, set at the Watson wedding. Not like 100% fluffy, but I love reading it when I need a pick me up.

DAY SEVEN - Free For All

You guys know I’m a sucker for a period AU. So I’m going to recommend one of my favorite AUs: London Bridge Is Falling Down by @lono285. This is a WWII-era AU that I love to bits and pieces because it’s ADORABLE.

Speaking of AUs, here’s a Victorian amnesia fic. Changing Faces by @likingthistoomuch

Also, there’s an S2-ish hasty marriage AU Band of Gold by @mizjoely and the 1940s AU remix With This Ring written by me. (yup, I am SHAMELESS. And quite proud of this one.)

I’m gonna add with a tear, the truth comes by broomclosetkink. Semi-angsty AU of the Watson wedding. Fix-it fic.

Looking for the Christmas Carol AU? Well, try A Knockout Christmas by Ellis_Hendricks.

Here’s Sherlock-Is-An-Actual-Moron. Unplanned pregnancy AU where Sherlock doesn’t realize it’s his. Hearts Don’t Break Around Here by darthsydious.

OOOOOOOOF. I’ve been reading your Sherlolly fics since like 2011 and I have heaps more (SO many fantastic authors I didn’t even mention here!).

Please check out the official post because the other half of this appreciation week is also leaving feedback for authors.

Give them some LOVE!

#sherlolly appreciation week #Lexie reads things #sherlolly #epic fic rec list 2020

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the-sapphiresky · 5 years ago

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The Antidote

Whoa boy, I am rustay! It has been many moons since I've written anything and this bebe is my attempt to get back in the groove. Hope it makes sense, that's all I can ask. Now enjoy some Potter!lock Sherlolly, my darlings!

He never should have let her out of his sight. Pissed off at him or not, he should have been with her, he should have been able to stop this.

Sherlock burst onto the balcony just as Molly collapsed to the stone floor.

"What did you do to her?" Sherlock shoved the Arithmancy Professor aside and knelt over his unconscious friend. He cupped her cold cheek and leaned down, his ear to her mouth. Small puffs of air. She was alive.

"I don't know," the idiot lied. "I thought it was butterbeer!" Sherlock snapped his head to the side and narrowed his eyes.

“No, no you knew exactly what you were giving her. And it wasn't a simple butterbeer. What. Was. It?” He bit out through clenched teeth.

A guilty flush darkened the idiot's face and his gaze skittered away.

“You can tell me and walk away with just a couple broken bones.” Sherlock's voice fell to a dangerous rumble. “Or Ministry officials will meet you in St Mungo's, several limbs permanently cursed off.”

The idiot swallowed and paled. “I just wanted her to like me!” Spit flew from his mouth. “She's such an uptight whore. I-I tried to cop a feel and she just turned into the ice queen!”

“So you decided to use an illegal potion to coerce her?” By now, Sherlock was barely containing his rage. His fingers gripped his wand tightly and he was mentally reviewing all the legal (and somewhat gray area illegal) curses he could use on this scum. “Who brewed it?”

The idiot gulped. “I didn't get a name. But the note said the effects would wear off in an hour. She wasn't supposed to pass out!” Sweat dripped off his slimy face. “It was just supposed to loosen her up!”

Realising he wasn't going to get any useful information from the idiot, Sherlock whipped out his wand and thought a quick hex, sending the idiot flying into the wall. He dropped to the stone floor like a sack of potatoes, unconscious, and ropes appeared, tying his legs and arms tight in a body bind.

He turned back to Molly. The empty glass lay shattered by her side, the evidence slowly dripping onto the floor. He swiped his finger through the murky liquid and brought it up to his nose.

Bitter fruits and a heady sensual wave assaulted his senses. A lust potion.

He scowled. There was another ingredient. Something lying underneath the basic potion… a binding agent. He sniffed again.

“Sherlock!”

Behind him, John burst onto the balcony, Mary on his heels, their wands at the ready. They stumbled to a stop at the sight before them. Tom ‘the Idiot’ crumpled unconscious and bound with ropes as Sherlock knelt over an unconscious and pale Molly.

“Oh, Merlin!” Mary rushed to her friend’s side, nearly landing in the pool of cursed butterbeer and glass. “What’s wrong with her?”

John clenched his wand in a white-knuckled grip. “She’s not… is she?”

“No,” Sherlock snapped. “Not yet. But her heartbeat is slowing down as we speak, so shut up and let me think!”

He closed his eyes tightly and ran through his Mind Palace to the basement, where he stored his potions and ingredients. Ransacking the shelves, he desperately searched for his notes on potions affecting the heart.

Lust potion.

Binding agent.

Unconscious Molly.

Antidote.

Lust.

What is the antidote to lust?!

He flipped through book after book, finally coming to the page he needed.

Potions that affect the heart are difficult to counteract. While their symptoms may be temporary, they can also be dangerous. Amortentia is an example of a revelatory potion; it does not create feelings, rather it reveals them to the person imbibing.

Sherlock scowled and skipped down a few paragraphs. Ah, there it is.

Lust potions are the most dangerous potions in regards to the heart. They were banned by the Ministry of Magic in 1502. Without proper preparation, a lust potion can be deadly. Certain ingredients can exaggerate the side effects of a lust potion, one such consequence being drugged to the point of unconsciousness as the heart continues to slow until it stops altogether.

Sherlock skimmed over the rest, looking for notes to counteract it. His eyes fell on the last sentence and his heart fell into his stomach.

There is no known antidote.

He flipped to the next page, but found nothing.

Dropping the book, he immediately withdrew from his Mind Palace to find John checking Molly’s pulse as Mary muttered to herself, running through her own repertoire of spells.

With no time to waste, Sherlock slipped his arms under her back and legs, shifting her into his embrace. Her slight form shuddered at the contact and, to his surprise, she murmured his name. He glanced down, but she faded back into unconsciousness.

Hold on, Molly.

oOo

Madam Pomfrey bustled about, casting multiple spells, a frown on her face. Sherlock stood over Molly's supine form, his arms crossed. He wasn't moving until she was cured.

“A strong lust potion, I deduce” Sherlock offered.

Madam Pomfrey flicked her gaze over to the Potions Master. “Obviously, Mr Holmes. But these symptoms are far too severe for any simple potion. Something else was added, a binding agent I cannot determine. I can't try to bring her out of it without knowing what has her in a hold. It might just push her deeper.”

She chewed on her thumbnail for a moment. “I need to send for the Headmaster. He might be able to assist.”

She spun away and he heard the sharp click of her shoes on the floor, followed by the slam of the Hospital Wing door.

A cold feeling swept over Sherlock. What if Molly never woke up?

He looked down at his friend. Her pale face was waxen and blank, no sign of her ready smile or concentrating frown. Sitting on the bed beside her, he hesitantly reached for her hand. He flinched at how cold her fingers were and immediately grasped it tightly in both of his and rubbed gently to generate some warmth.

“I'm sorry I didn't curse that idiot's legs off,” Sherlock muttered darkly. “But mostly I'm sorry I didn't get there in time. Though you're probably wondering why I was there at all, after everything.”

He swallowed hard and dropped his gaze to their hands. “I was cruel. You offered me your heart, your trust, and in return I cast them aside. Out of fear, perhaps, that I am not what you believe me to be. And when you find out exactly who I am, you’ll leave.”

“Stupid, really. To think, I thought I had been most logical about it, but I failed to see that what I feared would happen already did, at my own hands. I pushed you away.”

With his free hand, he reached out and gently brushed her hair from her face. “Forgive me, please.”

Leaning down, he placed a soft kiss on her lips.

The shocking chill that met him immediately faded away and he pulled back in surprise. A wave of color washed over Molly, her pale cheeks blooming with rosy redness, the hand he held becoming soft and warm, and best of all, the flutter of her eyelashes as she slowly opened her eyes.

“Sherlock?”

Relieved at seeing those brown eyes alight with life, he kissed her again, her surprise only momentarily keeping her from kissing him back in kind. One hand slipping behind her, he lifted her up to sit halfway across his lap, happily snogging her while she wound her arms around his neck.

Distantly, he heard the doors open and footsteps as a group of people hurried inside, but he didn’t care.

Breaking the kiss for just a moment, he held her close, breathing deeply as he nuzzled her neck. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she replied, her voice thick with emotion.

Addressing the intruders, Sherlock suddenly barked, “Molly is fine. Now leave, we require privacy.”

Amidst the relieved grumbling and calls of “about time”, Madame Pomfrey warned them they had 5 minutes and under no circumstances was there to be any hanky panky in her Hospital Wing.

“People will talk,” Molly laughed breathlessly, her hands gripping the front of his robes, as the doors shut behind their friends.

Leaning back down to brush his lips against hers, he said, “Let them.”

#sherlolly #my writing #potter!lock #forgive all errors and plot holes please and thank you!

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miz-joelys-sherlollilists · 5 years ago

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Sherlolly v. Moran - Updated 07/15/20

Stories where Sebastian Moran is the Baddie (or one of the baddies). No one asked for this, I just felt like making it. Still a WiP but if there’s one you particularly want me to add, just message me a link, thanks!

A Love Most Improbable by TheresaWritesStuff (Rated T, Complete, Multi-Chapter) B&B, Royalty AU, Adapt/Crossover AO3 2017

A pair of pretty brown eyes: continuation and conclusion by MaybeItsJustMyType & OhAine (Rated T, In Progress, Multi-Chapter) Post HLV, Matchmaking AO3 2018

A Question of Honour by mizjoely (Rated M, In Progress, Multi-Chapter) fake relationship, Historical (Revolutionary War) ff.net 2016

A Question of Honour: Redux (Rated T, In Progress, Multi-Chapter) Historicalock, Fake Relationship ff.net 2020

A Temporary Wedding by misty malone (Rated K+, Complete, Multi-Chapter) Post Reichenbach, Fake Relationship ff.net 2013

Bad Boys by mizjoely (Rated M, Complete, Multi-Chapter) starts teen, ends uni, historicalock ff.net 2014

Bad Boys: 2019 (T Rated) Version by mizjoely (Rated T, Complete, Multi-Chapter) starts teen, ends uni, historicalock AO3 2019

Beauty and the Beast!lock byStormcat385 (Rated K+, Complete, Multi-Chapter) Royalty AU, Beauty & the Beast AU, Adapt/Crossover AO3 2017

Contract by hobbitsdoitbetter (Rated K, One-Shot) tumblr 2019

Dead Man Walking (Highlander AU) by WillSherJohnKhan (Rated T, One-Shot) Fantasy/Supernatural, Adapt/Crossover AO3 2018

Fear Is A Chemical Defect by IronStrange (Rated T, Complete, Multi-Chapter) Post HLV ff.net 2014

Furo by asteraceaeblue & mizjoely (Rated M, Complete, Multi-Chapter) SBBC, Post HLV, Zombie!lock AO3 2015

Dead Man Walking (Highlander AU) by WillSherJohnKhan (Rated T, One-Shot) Adapt/Crossover, Fan/Supernatural AO3 2018

Endless Forms Most Beautiful by Ridiculousity (Rated M, Complete, Multi-Chapter) PHLV, Kidnapped!, Songfic ff.net 2014

Going Rogue by WillSherJohnKhan (Rated M, In Progress, Multi-Chapter) Vamp!lock AO3 2017

Here Be Dragons by WillSherJohnKhan (Rated T, In Progress, Multi-Chapter) Dragonlock AO3 2019

I Know This Room, I've Walked This Floor (The Minor Fall, The Major Lift series) by Keira_63 (Rated T, One-Shot) S3: Matters Most AO3 2020

The Irish Connection: America Bound by The Pash (Rated M, Complete, Multi-Chapter) Post HLV ff.net 2015

I've Got Soul But I'm Not a Soldier by darthsydious (Rated T, Complete, Multi-Chapter) Kidnap!fic ff.net 2014

The Lark Ascending by whirligigkat (Rated T) Victorian, Arranged Marriage, Slow Burn, Long Fic AO3 2017

The Marriage Sham by MrsMCrieff (Rated M, Complete, Multi-Chapter) Post Reichenbach, Fake Relationship ff.net 2014

Not Dead Either by darnedchild (Rated T, One-Shot) PTFP, Kidnapped! tumblr 2017

Pawns On The Board, Flies On The Web by afteriwake (Rated T, In Progress, Multi-Chapter) AO3 2019

Reichenbach Redemption by Fan Gals (Rated T, Incomplete, Multi-Chapter) Post Reichenbach ff.net 2016

Revenge Is A Dish Best Served (Magically) Cold (Undead is the New Alive series) by afteriwake (Rated T, Complete, Multi-Chapter) Vamplock AO3 2017

Secrets by Fiji Dreamer (Rated T, Complete, Multi-Chapter) parentlock, secret relationship, Post Reichenbach ff.net 2013

Self-Rescuing Princess by darnedchild (Rated T, Complete, Two Parter) Kidnap fic, PTFP AO3 2018

Sinew by mizjoely (Rated T, One-Shot) Post HLV AO3 2016

Swan Dive by avatardsherlockian (Rated T, Complete, Multi-Chapter) ff.net 2012

Sweet Mess (Gods and Monsters series) by Catmilk (Rated T, Complete, Multi-Chapter) Post Reichenbach ff.net 2013

That Dear Perfection by dietplainlite (Rated M, Complete, Multi-Chapter) Post Reichenbach, virgin!lock, kidnap fic, trapped together fic ff.net 2013

Those Who Mattered by 1MissMolly (Rated M, Complete, Multi-Chapter) Not the Daddy, casefic AO3 2014

Thunder Echoes by wickedwanton (Rated T, Incomplete, Multi-Chapter) Post Reichenbach ff.net 2013

Tomorrow is Fading by Kureiji_Kurai (Rated M, Incomplete, Multi-Chapter) Casefic, Long fic AO3 2014

The Truth Shall Set You Free by mizjoely (Rated T, One-Shot) Potterlock ff.net 2014

The undone and the divine by elixir.bb (Rated M, One-Shot) Post Reichenbach ff.net 2013

Waking the dead by Vickie-4-Books (Rated M, Complete, Multi-Chapter) Post Reichenbach, Long fic ff.net 2013

The War Inside My Head by daisherz365 (Rated T, Complete, Multi-Chapter) Post Reichenbach, Long fic ff.net 2013

What mere mortals are we all by elixir.bb (Rated T, One-Shot) Post Reichenbach ff.net 2013

What You Can’t Deduce by theheartofadetective (Rated M, Complete, Multi-Chapter) Post Reichenbach ff.net 2013

When Darkness Falls by mizjoely (Rated M, Complete, Multi-Chapter) virgin!lock, kidnap fic, Post Reichenbach ff.net 2013

Your Worst Fears by LadySolitaire83 (Rated M, Complete, Multi-Chapter) Post Reichenbach, pregnancy fic, Secret child ff.net 2013

#sherlolly #sherlolly v. moran #we all know who wins!

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darnedchild · 6 years ago

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Because You Asked

Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2019

Day 4 : Molly – “Did you get him off a murder charge?”

Two things - This fic uses a lot of dialogue lifted directly from "The Empty Hearse", and this fic was written out of order as it answers the Day 4 prompt, even though I'm posting it on the 6th Day of Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2019.

(Currently unbeta’d because I am slow and late.)

Also on FFdotNet and Ao3

Because You Asked

The case was intriguing, far more than he’d expected it would be when he decided to take Molly to see Shilcott. He had assumed he would return Shilcott’s hat, listen to his problem and solve it in a matter of minutes, then thank Molly for her assistance and send her on her way after a productive day of crime solving.

“Fancy some chips?”

That was not what he’d been planning to say. Not even close.

“What?” Molly sounded confused and he didn’t blame her in the least.

He continued down the stairs, already working out how he could brush his question off as unimportant. He’d casually mentioned the chips, he hadn’t meant anything by it.

He definitely had not asked her to dinner, because that meant . . . things. And while Molly might not understand just how significant those things were in his mind, she would know that there was more to it than a friendly offer if he had asked. Molly had always had an uncanny ability read him better than anyone else he’d ever met.

Even if he had wanted to ask, which he did not, he couldn’t. Shouldn’t even be thinking about it. He had seen her ring the second she’d removed her gloves back at Baker Street. He knew exactly what it meant.

“I know a fantastic fish shop just off Marylebone Road. The owner always gives me extra portions.”

No, no, no.

“Did you get him off a murder charge?” He could hear the smile in her voice. He knew she was thinking of Angelo.

“No. I helped him put up some shelves.” The sound of her giggle, however brief, made him feel lighter inside. He smiled.

“Sherlock?”

His smile dropped at the change in her tone. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned toward her. “Hmm?”

“What was today about?”

This was it. This was the moment he had to stop pretending that everything was fine. That seeing that ring on her finger hadn’t made him want to lock himself away in his room and delete the image from his memory. He swallowed hard and forced out the words he’d meant to say from the beginning. “Saying thank you.”

இڿڰۣ-ڰۣ—

The cold sting of the winter air did nothing to remove the tactile memory of her warmth and the softness of her cheek under his lips.

He shouldn’t have stepped so close, and he definitely shouldn’t have kissed her. That was a mistake he could never make again.

Sherlock pulled his coat tighter and walked down the path to the pavement.

“Sherlock! Wait.”

He froze at the sound of Molly’s voice, his traitorous pulse jumping in response. He took a calming breath and turned toward her. “Yes?”

She finished pulling on her gloves as she hurried to his side. “About the chips. If the offer still stands?”

The hopeful look on her face made his decision for him. “Of course. It’s not too far of a walk, if that’s all right?”

“Sounds lovely.”

It was cold and windy and wouldn’t be considered ‘lovely’ by anyone’s definition, and they both knew it. But still, they continued on their way in silence. He wanted to tell her this was wrong, that she should turn around and go home, but words remained unspoken.

Finally, just over halfway to their destination, he worked up the nerve to speak. Sherlock stopped walking and gently tugged her arm to hold her in place. She tilted her face up to look at him, her nose red and her eyes sparkling in the late afternoon sunlight, and his mind blanked. He grasped the ends of her scarf and carefully rearranged it to offer more warmth. “Why did you change your mind?” His voice was too soft, too intimate, for a moment between friends.

Molly shrugged. “I was hungry.”

இڿڰۣ-ڰۣ—

Jack’s Place was incredibly busy for a hole-in-the-wall chippie. The tables were already full of diners hoping for a quick after work meal, even more were waiting in line to place their orders.

They joined the queue and he kept an eye on the other customers, hoping against hope that a few of the tables would free up so that he wouldn’t be tempted to make the suggestion burning at the back of his mind. If anything, the dining area seemed to grow even more crowded as people wedged into open spaces, nibbling on their chips while they waited for a place to sit.

There was only one person left in the queue before them when he gave in. “It looks to be standing room only in here. We could take our food back to Baker Street. If you want.”

She nibbled on her bottom lip for a long moment, then nodded. “It’s that or eat outside on a bench, I suppose.”

இڿڰۣ-ڰۣ—

Normally he’d be well into his fish and chips by the time he made the walk back to Baker Street, but he found he was too nervous to eat. Which was utterly ridiculous, what did he have to be nervous about?

Molly didn’t seem to have much of an appetite either. They’d spread their meals across the table in front of the sofa and he’d fetched bottles of water from the fridge, but most of the food remained untouched.

She fidgeted with the lid of her water bottle for several long moments and he watched her.

“You were right. It really is good.” Molly gestured at her portion.

“You’ve hardly eaten enough to form an opinion one way or another.” He titled his head and sighed. “What are we doing, Molly?”

“Eating. We’re just . . . eating.”

He studied her face, noting the way she wouldn’t look directly at him. “Is that really all this is?”

She carefully set her water on the table and raised her head to meet his eyes. “Did you want it to be anything more?”

Did he? Of course he did. But this, this was insanity. He leaned closer and finally said what had been on the tip of his tongue since he’d first mentioned the bloody fish and chips. “This is a bad idea.”

“Horrible,” she quickly agreed.

“You’re engaged.”

Her eyes dropped to his lips for just long enough to make them part in anticipation. “I am.”

He swallowed hard and fought not to reach for her. “I wish . . .”

“I know.”

Sherlock moved even closer and she lifted her hand to press her fingers to his lips.

Molly shook her head, fear and sadness clearly written across her expressive face. “If you-If this is something you want, for real, not just because you’re feeling lonely, you have to tell me. Plainly. No room for misunderstandings. And I can’t-I owe it to Tom not to . . . I need to talk to him before . . .”

He knew she was right. His Molly would need to do the right thing.

His Molly. When had she become his?

Sherlock retreated just far enough to give her space and her hand fell to her lap. “Of course.”

“What do you want, Sherlock?”

“Molly, I- “

They both heard urgent knocking on the front door at the same time, then voices as Mrs Hudson let someone in.

“Sorry. I-I think someone’s got John. John Watson.”

Sherlock jumped off the sofa and hurried to the top of the stairs. “Mary? What’s wrong?”

The newcomer finished climbing the stairs and passed him her phone. “Someone sent me this. At first I thought it was just a Bible thing, you know, spam; but it’s not. It’s a skip-code.”

He made a mental note to revisit that later, but his concern for John overrode his curiosity as he looked at the message. “First word, then every third. Save . . . John . . . Watson.”

The rest of the unimportant words vanished from his vision and he knew exactly were they needed to go. “Now!”

He ducked into the sitting room to grab his coat and saw Molly still sitting on the sofa. “Molly, I need-“

She nodded in understanding. “Go!” She made a shooing motion toward the door. “Find John.”

He took a step toward the stairs and then turned one more time. “Wait for me?”

Molly nodded again as Mary tugged on his arm to pull him down the stairs.

இڿڰۣ-ڰۣ—

It was very late when he returned to Baker Street, stinking of bonfire smoke. While he had hoped she’d still be there, he was honestly surprised to find Molly curled up on his couch.

She had her mobile cradled in her hand and when she looked up he could see that her eyes were red and puffy.

“Molly?”

She blinked as if she hadn’t noticed him come in. “Did you find him?”

“Yeah. He’s safe.” Sherlock stripped off his coat and hung it up. It would need to be taken to the cleaners the next day, along with his suit. “A little smoke inhalation, but he’s home now.”

He nodded toward the phone. “What happened?” he asked, even though he already suspected he knew the answer. His eyes instinctively sought out her left hand. The ring was gone.

She shrugged and tossed the phone on to the table. “I talked to Tom. We’re going to meet up for lunch tomorrow, just to sort things out.”

Sherlock eased himself onto the cushion beside her and slowly reached for her hand. “And this?”

“That’s one of the things we’re sorting out. He knows I’m giving it back. I can’t-I can’t marry him now. It wouldn’t be fair, would it? Not when I . . .” She flipped her hand over and pressed her palm against his.

Sherlock laced his fingers between hers and gently squeezed. “Why did you stay?”

“Because you asked.” As if it were as simple as that.

Perhaps it was.

#sherlollyweek2019 #sherlolly

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theresawritesstuff · 6 years ago

Note

Are you taking prompts? Writing Prompts ask: 6, sherlolly?!

I am taking prompts! We just closed the show I have been working on this past weekend so outside of doing costume laundry, I actually have free time!

“What an odd way to insult someone.”

“Mycroft! Fancy seeing you here,” John greeted the elder Holmes, lifting his pint cheerfully. “Care to join us?”

“No, thank you, John. I’m here to collect my brother and Dr. Hooper, since neither of them seem inclined to answer their mobiles,” Mycroft replied, his voice straining slightly over the din of the pub.

“They wouldn’t be. It’s a new thing Mary thought up.” John nodded toward the pile of devices at the center of the table.

“First one to check their phone pays for the tab,” Mary chimed in, returning from the bar with their next round. She pecked John’s cheek as he took the pints from her hands.

“Charming.” Mycroft rolled his eyes. He shifted his weight, grimacing at the feeling of something sticky beneath the expensive leather soles of his shoes. “Would you at least point me in their direction? This is a case of some urgency, as you can imagine.”

“Over there.” John gestured with his fresh pint. “Sherlock has been on a tear of insults about Molly’s recent attempts at online dating. She had enough and dragged him across the pub to give him a taste of his own medicine.”

They turned to look across the crowd as the two in question seemed to be in the midst of a heated argument in the corner.

Mycroft’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline as in the next moment, Sherlock and Molly became tangled in a passionate lip lock.

“What an odd way to insult someone,” he thought aloud, finding himself unable to look away.

Mary chuckled, rather pleased with the whole situation. “That’s one form of a tongue lashing, I suppose.”

She rubbed circles along John’s back apologetically as he tried to recover from his beverage being expelled out his nose.

Mycroft shook his head and started towards the door.

“Hey, where are you going?” John asked, nearly through with his sputtering. “I thought it was urgent.”

Mycroft glanced back at his brother and the petite pathologist who were now both deeply entwined, snogging like it was their only source of air.

“It can wait.”

#Sherlolly

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ausllygo1direction · 5 years ago

Text

Instrument of Darkness

So I’ve decided that I’m going to use my tumblr to kind of promote some of my fanfiction. For those who aren’t aware, I’m Austin And Ally Go 1 Direction on fanfiction.net, and AAG1D on AO3.

The following bits are some excerpts from my latest fanfiction which was set in the Star Wars universe but with the Sherlock characters. It was originally meant to be a short 8,000 word Sherlolly fluff one-shot, but the Sherlolly fluff dies pretty quick (It still ends with Sherlolly, but the story was kidnapped by a plot-line so the fluff got thrown out the window), and in the end it turned into an 80,000 word three-shot monstrosity of epic proportions. I don’t know if anyone would be interested in checking it out, but if you like the following excerpts I’ll place the link to the story at the end so that you can go read the whole thing :)

Without further ado, I give you some bits of Instrument of Darkness.

///

The wind whipped harshly across the planes of the desert, sand scrapping unforgivingly against the weather-worn figure that stood amongst the nothingness. The lean body was wrapped in scraps of beige fabric and nearly blended perfectly in with the environment. It was only the shock of dark hair and the crudely made staff that contrasted the figure with the dunes of Jakku.

It didn’t matter though. Sherlock Holmes was always out of place in the desert.

Why he had been abandoned as a child on such a wretched planet was beyond him. The desert had hardened any soft edges he had once had, and the physical demands of survival were more than evident in the leanness of his form and the callouses on his hands.

Sometimes he wondered what he had done in a previous life in order to have been dealt such a cruel fate. A life as a scrapper was barely a life at all, and the endless sand had washed Sherlock’s mind of any good memory he might’ve had as a child.

The only thing he could remember was Molly.

The name was his only constant companion in his solitary, and the image of a face that time seemed unable to erase. The edges were blurred almost as though something had tried to rid him of the memory-

A sharp pain caused Sherlock to grit his teeth and close his eyes against the harshness of the sun, seeking a reprieve to the headache that flared up when he reflected too much on the emptiness of his mind. There was something missing, but he didn’t know why.

His only hope seemed to lie in this Molly woman.

For as long as he could remember, his only goal in his meager existence was to get off the back-water planet he had the misfortune of calling home, and search for the woman he was sure held the answers to his questions. The name itself brought a wave of incredible longing to the forefront of Sherlock’s mind, and he was certain that he loved-

Another burst of pain. This one caused a grunt to break the stillness of the desert.

Putting his musings aside, Sherlock carefully unclasped his water skin, before allowing himself to enjoy a few refreshing drops of the too-little supply of water. They did little but coat the grittiness of his tongue, but Sherlock knew better than to indulge in any more. Refreshed as he was ever going to be, he resumed his trek across the barren wasteland.

There were too many holes in his memory to truly understand his past. Thus, it only made sense to try and move forward. He had a plan. Get off Jakku. Find this Molly. And then hopefully the rest would come with time.

But for now, to focus on the present.

Besides, the smoking wreck up ahead looked promising.

///

JN-1871 was not having a good day.

On top of breaking some rebel pilot out of prison, commandeering a ship to escape the only hellhole he had ever known, and then having said escape plan go marvellously to hell, he also had somehow managed to crash land on Jakku.

To top it all off, he wasn’t used to being in harsh environments without the protection of his Stormtrooper armour, and he could just feel his skin beginning to burn.

Life was just peachy.

At first, his plan seemed foolproof. Break the pilot out of prison, steal a ship, use said pilot to fly said ship, and finally be free from the hell known as the First Order. It was a stellar plan.

Except for the variables he hadn’t factored in.

Variable one: The pilot was a cheeky tosser. Mary Morstan, as she introduced herself as, did not take orders and apparently had a sense of sass that outweighed her sense of self-preservation. By the time that they had finally gotten to the ship, JN-1871 was already wishing that he had left her in Kylo Ren’s interrogation chamber if only to have saved himself a headache.

Then there was variable two: The First Order wasn’t exactly, well… you know, pleased with his escape attempt with their Resistance prisoner. Hence resulting in a red alert being signalled before they had even reached the bloody ship.

He really, really hated shooting.

Especially when he was on the active end of the barrel.

By the time that the (ex)Stormtrooper and (ex)prisoner had made it to the TIE fighter all hell had broken loose, and Mary had jabbed several buttons on the control panel before shoving something into JN-1871’s hand and shouting “I’ll distract them. If I don’t make it you need to go to Jakku and get my droid. It has the map that Lady Smallwood needs.”

“What- wait! I don’t have a bloody clue how to fly this thing! That’s why I broke you out in the first place!” JN-1871 protested from where he had been all but shoved into the pilot’s seat.

Mary rolled her eyes as she continued punching buttons and yanking on wires. “I’ve enabled autopilot and set the coordinates for Jakku. I’ll keep anyone off your tail.” With that the lights for the ship flicked on and the hum jolted JN-1871’s bones. The pilot flashed the (ex)Stormtrooper a cheeky smirk. “See you on the other side.”

“No- wait!” It was too late – before JN-1871 could so much as move the top of the fighter closed and Mary was running towards the next TIE fighter, JN-1871’s gun going off in her hands (When did she get that?). The (ex)Stormtrooper barely had time to click his seatbelt on before the ship was whooshing out of the corridor, blasters going off behind him.

The rest had been a blur (And admittedly his eyes had been shut for, like, ninety-five percent of it). There were explosions. He was vaguely aware of another TIE fighter following his that seemed to keep the enemy fire at bay, until something went wrong, there was a blast of fire, the looming yellowness of Jakku, and enough tumbling to make JN-1871 puke more than enough for an entire lifetime.

At some point his seat must’ve ejected, and then, pain, and death, and oh my goodness he had just wanted a quiet retirement.

He had woken up to a mouthful of sand, an unforgiving sun burn, and the scattered remains of the fighter littered around him.

His mind was in a numb state of shock as he watched the bulk of the wreck begin to disappear beneath the sand.

He was stranded.

On Jakku.

JN-1871 wanted to cry. Not only did every single part of his body ache, but he was now also a fugitive of the First Order and was stuck on a planet that was uncomfortably close to the Finalizer.

His eyes travelled down to the odd thing still clutched in his hand.

It was a scarf. Specifically, the Resistance pilot’s scarf that she had shoved into his possession before running off. He wasn’t sure why she had given it to him – perhaps it was a way to find the droid she had mentioned? His head hurt, and it wasn’t just from thinking about his predicament.

Perhaps the droid was his way off the planet. Yes. The pilot had thought he was with the Resistance anyways, and perhaps if he got the droid to this Lady Smallwood they’d offer him amnesty. Besides, the pilot made this map thing sound important, right? So it was almost guaranteed that they’d bargain for it.

New plan in mind, JN-1871 turned his back to the wreckage.

Time to find a droid and a way off this back-water planet.

///

On the whole, Mary Morstan was a fairly adaptable person. She had to be – as a pilot for the Resistance it might as well have been a job requirement. In all her years of service, she had been in her fair share of sticky situations and had seen more than enough trouble for a lifetime.

There was a reason she was so cocky.

And yet out of everything that she had seen and done, getting captured by the First Order and being personally interrogated by Kylo Ren certainly took the cake – and the wind out of her sails.

That said, if anything was able to raise her spirits it was the sight of a specific YT-1300. Even if it wasn’t being manned by its original owner, the ship and its cargo were the best thing that the pilot had seen all week.

“What- Mary?!”

Offering a slightly sarcastic salute with her good arm, Mary took that as an invitation to waltz further towards the duo. “Hello boys.”

Although the ‘Trooper she had escaped with had lowered his pistol (Mary had to hold back a snort – he hadn’t been fooling anybody with his whole Resistance impersonation), the tall stranger only tightened his grip on his staff, eyes narrowed.

“Who are you?”

Mary eyed his fighting posture warily. Despite all her bravado she was in no condition for a fight, and the other man knew it. Thankfully, the ‘Trooper responded for her.

“It’s alright, Sherlock. She’s Redbeard’s pilot.”

Mary’s eyebrows hitched at the name. “Did you name my droid while I was gone?”

The other man – Sherlock – finally lowered his weapon, though he managed a somewhat haughty sniff. “I wasn’t going to call him a sequence of letters.”

She rolled her eyes. Mary had a feeling that she would be doing that a lot around these two. “Where is he?”

The ‘Trooper took over once again, turning to head back down the hall. Mary stayed close to his heels, overtly aware of how Sherlock’s eyes followed her every move – and not in the good sort of way.

“He’s up in the droid port piloting the ship. We ran into a snare, hence why we’re currently out of motion. Sherlock was fixing the wiring when you showed up.”

Mary made a humming noise of acknowledgement in the back of her throat. “I take it that means you haven’t had the map delivered to Lady Smallwood yet.”

The ‘Trooper shrugged awkwardly. “The coordinates are set for D’Qar, we just need to recalibrate the-”

“Nevermind D’Qar,” Mary asserted, slipping into the vacant pilot’s chair and ignoring Sherlock noise of protest as her fingers began flying over the wires. “We have a new destination. The map can wait; There’s some more pressing issues at hand.”

It was only the weight of something very solid suddenly upon her collarbone that caused Mary’s fingers to freeze their musings. The ‘Trooper’s sudden protests were lost to her as her senses directed solely at their current danger.

Sherlock stood menacingly beside them, his staff held dangerously against her chest. Any sudden weight, and Mary was certain that he could snap several of her bones without even batting an eye. There was something in his eyes, a kind of… madness that made Mary’s flesh crawl. The ‘Trooper was still going off the rails.

“…Sithspit Sherlock, she’s on our side!”

Sherlock didn’t pay him any heed, his eyes still trained dangerously on Mary. Finally, his baritone cut off the ‘Trooper’s ramblings.

“I was told we were going to D’Qar where I would be given transport to go my own way. I am not interested in taking a detour.”

Mary raised her hands, and turned slowly so she could face him better, though her own eyes were narrowed. “Well, if we don’t get to Sector 7G pronto, there may not be much of a galaxy left for you to fly through.”

The staff didn’t move.

“What are you talking about?”

“A weapon,” Mary was irked at sharing the information with someone with an obviously different agenda from the Resistance, but the weight on her collarbone hadn’t left her with many options. “The First Order has designed a weapon that they call Starkiller Base, and it doesn’t just take out a single planet, it can take out an entire system. If we don’t get over there and sabotage it now, we might not get another chance before half of the galaxy’s gone.”

A moment of stillness as her words sunk in. Then:

“Sherlock if that’s true then searching for this Molly person would be pointless. She could be dead before we’re even to D’Qar.”

Mary’s ears perked at the information, but she was more intrigued by how Sherlock responded to it, his eyes hardening in resignation while his mouth twisted in dislike. After a moment’s more of silence, the metal was finally removed.

Sherlock didn’t look any less defensive.

“Fine. We go to this Starkiller Base” He said the name derisively, and Mary couldn’t blame him, “And destroy it before it can inadvertently kill Molly. And then I expect to be transported somewhere and given a ship and the supplies needed for my search as thanks for saving the galaxy.”

Sherlock’s eyes darted between the other two people dangerously, as though daring them to contest his statement.

Neither did.

Giving a sharp nod of his head, the strange man spun on his heel and disappeared down the corridor. The ‘Trooper gave her a half-muttered apology, before dashing after the errant man who had threatened her life just a moment before.

Within a breath Mary Morstan was left alone with the circuit board, still trying to process what was happening. She blinked, before a scowl marred her pretty features.

“So I’ll just fix the ship myself then, shall I?” She shouted into the empty space.

Unsurprisingly, nothing shouted back.

///

Destiny could be a funny thing.

Some people felt that it was set in stone, that once a future was determined it couldn’t be changed. Others felt that while the future wasn’t exact, the fundamental attributes of a person would always result in them making the same choices, leading to an inevitable destiny.

Sherlock thought that destiny was garbage.

And that the Force was too.

He remembered waking up to ash. Pain had coursed through his brittle flesh that had been all the wrong colours in all the wrong places, and his lungs had seized at the filthy air around him. He had tried calling for help, for his parents, for Myc, but his body couldn’t take the sudden movement, and instead he found himself curling up in the ash and soot, sobbing silently as the world passed on in silence.

That was how Lestrade had found him. Broken, and helpless, and covered head to toe in fiercely angry burns and black, black ash.

If he had believed in destiny, he might’ve even said that the state in which Lestrade had found him in had foreshadowed that which he would become.

Destiny was bantha fodder though, so Sherlock dismissed the thought.

For a while, though, it was near impossible to believe otherwise. The darkness had simply been so all encompassing that Sherlock struggled to keep afloat. The other Masters and students had been rightly terrified of him, and more than once Sherlock had overheard stray thoughts throughout the Force, wondering when he would be lost to the darkness for good.

For a while, Sherlock had felt that he had no other option other than to forever be entrenched in the darkness. He was a monster, an abomination, a sithspawn, and he had lost any hope he might’ve once harboured.

After all, when everyone else fears the darkness within you, it hardly seems polite to disagree.

Then, he had met Molly and everything changed.

For the first time in his life, he had felt like he could be good. That perhaps he wasn’t destined for a future drowning in darkness.

His mistake, however, was in thinking that he could learn to swim.

For although he tried, the darkness never left. And although he went through the motions, he never truly could be a Jedi.

After all, he had all but thrown himself at the darkness in order to save Molly.

Now, as he traversed the uneven ground with the bitter breeze threatening to blow his hood off, Sherlock still didn’t give destiny any credit. After all, what had it done for him? But he did have to admit that if it did exist it clearly had an ironic sense of humour.

Why else would Sherlock be on his way to find the one person who had betrayed him when it was most important? The one person who could hopefully save the galaxy and answer some very pressing questions. The one person who had found him over twenty years prior.

Yes, Sherlock Holmes didn’t believe in destiny.

But destiny believed in him.

And that was why he was always meant for the darkness.

Because destiny knew that he could also be more.

///

In the throne room, Sherlock was doing very, very badly.

With his attention split between the fight and his Force Bond with Molly, he didn’t stand a fighting chance on his own. Molly had momentarily stepped back in her attacks as the two Praetorian Guards kept him busy, but if he didn’t figure out how to get through to her soon, his momentary relief would not last long.

In the end, it was his own stubbornness that did him in.

Mentally chanting that he was strong enough to keep up with the attacks despite the fact that he most certainly was not, Sherlock didn’t have the energy to pay attention to his form. As a result, his right elbow clumsily was left out of position at the tail end of one of his blocks, causing a solid hit to the arm from one of the guards to loosen his hold on his saber.

In the next moment, the blue was extinguished and Sherlock’s lightsaber went clattering to the ground, stopping next to the ugly throne where the Supreme Leader was watching the events unfold with an unsettling grin.

Weaponless, Sherlock barely managed to duck in time, the vibro-voulge of one of the guards skimming too close to his head for comfort.

Panicking, his body went on Jakku survival mode as his foot swung out to catch the guard closest to him, sending him to the ground.

Somewhere in his head, the Jedi part of him was shouting to use the Force to reach for his weapon.

But a much larger part that had witnessed first hand dirty fights in old wrecks of starships was muddling any useful thoughts. He grabbed the vibro-voulge of the fallen guard, the shape familiar enough to his staff that the Scavenger part of him was able to relax slightly in ease.

It lasted about a half a heartbeat before he was bringing the voulge up to block the oncoming attack of the other guard.

Which was, of course, when Molly had to join the onslaught as well.

In his haste to stop the lightsaber from separating the top half of his body from the bottom, he forgot about the body of the fallen guard, and his foot went out from under him. His eyes widened and his breath got caught in his throat, but it was like he was a child again and unable to control the Force.

He hit the ground hard, vision slightly blurry.

It was mere reflex that had him bringing the voulge up to block the lunge of the guard. He blocked each attempted swing desperately, his grip on his temporary weapon weakened due to the awkward position and constant assaults.

His head lolled to the side slightly, and his eyes caught on the handle of his saber.

Trying to fight down the panic, trying to regain some semblance of control, Sherlock reached his hand out.

He was a dead man if he couldn’t rely on the Force.

Please.

The handle twitched and the blade went flying.

…Right past Sherlock’s hand, and into Lestrade’s waiting one.

///

John and Mary were panicking.

Read: Mostly John was panicking.

It had been over five minutes and they were still as stumped as they had been before. Mary had taken to reading every single label for the switches (Luckily for them, Stormtroopers were bad at nearly everything, meaning that the labels for each switch was incredibly precise). Unfortunately, however, there was simply such a multitude of switches that she was still nowhere near finishing.

John was in a corner muttering to himself. Up until a minute before he had been reading the labels too, but then he suddenly stopped without explanation and took up an almost trance-like murmuring about the plan.

Mary was getting fed up with the useless play-by-play.

“This would go a lot quicker if you helped, you know.”

John blinked owlishly at her. Her vocal intrusion seemed to finally break him of whatever spell he was under, but then he opened his mouth and hollowly said something that Mary never expected to hear.

“I think Sherlock’s dead.”

Mary froze, the words on her label suddenly spinning. Then her head snapped towards John with horrified precision. “What?”

John gulped, a shaking hand coming up to card through his hair. “The, uh, Force, thing. It- it-” He shook his head in an attempt to gain control of his actions. “Someone powerful and important just died. It was as though the Force cried out for a moment before settling. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

Mary fought to keep control of her own panic. “But we don’t necessarily know that it was Sherlock. Couldn’t it have been the Supreme Leader?” She reasoned. “He’s also powerful.”

But John merely shook his head. “They were good in life. Otherwise the Force wouldn’t have acted as it did. I don’t know how I know that, but I just do.”

The weight of his words was crushing, and Mary felt as though the room they were in had just shrunk several feet. “If he’s dead… then we’ve failed. The Supreme Leader lives.”

But John was already spiralling into grief, his having said his fears aloud allowing them to solidify into as good as reality in his mind.

“He was my best friend,” His eyes were distant, ears unhearing. “I didn’t know him that long, but he was my best friend. And now he’s gone.”

Mary was having none of it though, her grief doing the opposite and surging through her with new-found determination. She stepped forward and grabbed John’s shoulders, giving his loose frame a good shake to snap him out of it.

“Listen to me,” Her voice was steady, for which she was grateful. “Perhaps he is dead, okay? But that doesn’t mean that we are. Not yet, at least. And I can bet every last unit I have that he wouldn’t want us to give up now, you hear me? I believed in Sherlock Holmes,” Here her voice did crack, ever so slightly, “And now, we must live for Sherlock Holmes. You understand?”

Despite the haze that settled behind his eyes, John nodded ever so slowly.

“Good,” Her bravado was slowly slipping away, so she turned around so that John wouldn’t see. “Now let’s get back to work.”

///

A/N: Okay, so a lot of that doesn’t make sense because I had to cut a lot to avoid spoilers, haha. But if you want to read more (With a much more cohesive plot, I promise) please check out the full story. It’s set post-original trilogy, and basically follows Sherlock from age 7 till age 27. The first chapter is completely set at the Academy, with the second and third being set within two weeks of TFA and TLJ timelines. Hope you guys enjoy!

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16282052/chapters/38077163

ff.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13078770/1/Instrument-of-Darkness

-AAG1D

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holidaysat221b · 7 years ago

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Part Two of the List of Sherlolly Prompts as of 5/10/2018

Here is a link to the very informal Sherlolly Prompt FAQ

Below is the list of prompts submitted to @holidaysat221b. Where possible, we have tagged the submitter so that credit can be given if a prompt inspires someone to write a fic or create a piece of art.

Some submissions were specifically labeled as Art prompts, and they have been separated into their own category. However, if you are a fic writer and one of the art prompts calls to you, go for it. Likewise, if one of the other prompts makes you want to draw, have fun with it! Prompts that have been filled at least once will be noted with a link to the fic/art, in case that influences your decision to work with one.

We only ask three things:

1) If you use one of the prompts on this list, please remember to credit the prompt and prompter somewhere in your fic summary/art description or in your notes.

2) Please submit an ask or message @holidaysat221b with a link to your work, the prompt you used, the prompter, and how you want to be identified (in cases where your Tumblr and fic/artist name are different). This will allow us to share your work with our followers and tag the prompter (if possible).

3) We have set up a Sherlolly Prompt Collection on Ao3. If you are planning to post your fic or art on Ao3 and would like to add it to the collection, please do. As of this moment, the collection is open and unmoderated. Please remember to credit the prompt and prompter in your fic/art notes.

On to the Prompts as of May 10, 2018

Everything Else

Sherlock is undercover. He’s renting a small place and he’s trying to fit in with the extremely old fashioned community that is probably hiding a deadly smuggling ring or something equally bad. He ends up calling on Molly to come help. Since he’s already established as an unmarried man, his ‘sister’ (or other family member) arrives for a visit. Cue living in the same house while hot for each other type shenanigans while pretending to be siblings under the watchful eye of some suspicious townspeople. - Anonymous

Molly’s school reunion – Sherlock assumes he’ll be needed to help Molly show everyone up. The catch: Molly’s been a beloved peer, so it’s him who gets the obligatory “you hurt her, we’ll end you”. :) - @mychakk

Sherlock sees a woman on the street. Instantly intrigued (you can choose as to why) he follows her. - @mel-loves-all

Molly loves wearing Sherlock’s house robes. - @mel-loves-all (Prompt fill - A Seminal Moment by @geekmama)

Molly has a piece of body piercing jewelry or a tattoo located somewhere that surprises and titillates Sherlock. - @mel-loves-all (Prompt fill - Stainless, Captive Bead, 11mm, 14 Gauge. by sunken_standard)

Whenever Molly is close, Sherlock unconsciously always seems to need to touch her in some way after they start dating. He doesn’t notice it, but Molly does. - @mel-loves-all

A midnight dance. - @mel-loves-all

John tries to set up Sherlock with a girl. Unsurprisingly, there are a lot of contenders. And what does Molly have to say about that? - The Silent Fangirl

Through unexpected circumstances, Sherlock and Molly get engaged. It doesn’t end well. Crack!fic - The Silent Fangirl

Eurus Holmes ships the Sherlolly. So does John and Mycroft. Soon, everyone gets dragged into the Sherlolly craze. Crack!fic - The Silent Fangirl

Molly lives in the flat across from 221B. You know, the one that exploded? Yeah. But before that, there was a) looking at the hot naked guy in the window b) said hot naked guy crashing into her flat because he just wants to c) her traitorous cat crossing the street to hot naked guy’s flat. - The Silent Fangirl

Molly stops being Sherlock’s pathologist, and starts being THE Pathologist. BAMF!Molly - The Silent Fangirl

This, Sherlock thinks through the haze of cocaine, truly is the worst form of torture. Mycroft and Molly’s wedding through Sherlock’s drug-addled POV. - The Silent Fangirl

Molly commits suicide, but only Sherlock thinks she didn’t. He may not be wrong. - The Silent Fangirl

When John Watson dies, Rosie is given into the care of her godparents. Problem is, they aren’t exactly on speaking terms. Bonus for Harry Watson appearance! - The Silent Fangirl

Molly nearly gets hit by a speeding car … until Sherlock pushes her out of the way and gets hit himself. H/C - The Silent Fangirl

Molly in labor. After watching Mary in labor in TST, I kinda wanna see a funny take on Molly giving birth to her and Sherlock’s child. Maybe something like Molly being in pain, she wishes out loud she’d never had sex with Sherlock, while Sherlock logically points out how well they emotionally and biologically fit together. - Anonymous

Fluff. Molly has been hospitalized for whatever reason. She decides that she is feeling better and just wants to go home. However, the hospital does not want to release her yet. So Molly decides to leave AMA (against medical advice). She feels she can recover at home just as well and also she is eager to get back to work. Besides, who is going to know? This is something someone might expect from Sherlock, but not Molly. How long before he finds out? What is his reaction? - @shadowyqueenbeard

Angst. Molly discovers she is pregnant and is not happy about it. Although she would love to have a baby at some point, right now is not the time. She and Sherlock do not have a commitment and her career is going well. She plans to terminate the pregnancy. Sherlock finds out and tries to stop her. He please with her to change her mind, marry him and be a family. Is this just a control tactic or does he really love her? - @shadowyqueenbeard (Prompt fill - Turn Right by sunken_standard)

Molly discovers there is Sherlock Holmes RPF (Real Person Fiction) on the internet. She’s shocked to find that someone called Sherlolly4vr74 has been writing fic about her and Sherlock, and they seem to have a dedicated fan base. Some of the stories are very sweet and romantic, some of them are hot enough to give her NSFW ideas. Who is Sherlolly4vr74 (Is it Anderson? Mrs Hudson? Mary? John? I bet it’s John.) and is Sherlock aware of the stories? - @darnedchild (Prompt fill - This Love…is sweeter than fiction by escailyy)

Eurus has been known to put on a persona and disguise to get close to people for information – she was Faith for Sherlock, E and the psychiatrist for John. What if she had also spent some time around Molly prior to the events at Sherrinford? What information would she have gleaned about her brother and his pathologist? - @darnedchild

Can they be R rated. Because I feel Sherlock would not muck about, with telling Molly what he would like to do to her, he would not use cute little names for all her female parts and would go into great detail, like all his cases. She would be his very serious case. Yes he would most defiantly do a lot of research on pleasing her. Write it however you are most comfortable with. - @oliverfel4

Sherlock and Molly are getting married! It’s time to work on the guest list for the wedding, and suddenly they are faced with the question—Do they let Euros come, or not? - @celticmoonbeam (Prompt fill - Untitled Tumblr post by @theresadunn)

Shipwrecked Sherlolly—Sherlock saves Molly from drowning. - Anonymous (Prompt fill - Untitled Tumblr post (TBC?) by @mizjoely)

Euros leads Sherlock to believe that he failed, and Molly was killed after the ILY scene. Much angst ensues as he blames himself for her loss … but then we get to see the happy reunion scene when he learns she’s alive. - Anonymous

Moriarty trying to up Sherlock by sleeping with Molly, but the joke is on him, as Sherlock and Molly knew each other from secondary school/uni and were each other’s firsts. They can be regular (exclusive) lovers too. - @mychakk

Mary as matchmaker. At John and Mary’s wedding, Mary feels a little sad when they leave him alone to go dance (“What about you?”). She decides to make it her mission to help Sherlock find a girl so he’s not alone anymore. And this former agent has no trouble figuring out the potential between Sherlock and a certain Molly Hooper … (Up to you whether or not you want to throw in a Janine segue before she decides to set him up with Molly. And feel free to cover Sherlock being shot!) - @celticmoonbeam

Molly discovers she’s pregnant with Sherlock’s child at the worst possible time: while she’s with his parents, being hidden away, and the two are pretending to be just friends. Bonus if they figure it out before they’re told! - @penaltywaltz

After the events of TFP, Molly and Sherlock get closer. Suddenly, though, he pulls away and starts flirting with a coworker of hers, sometimes blatantly in front of her. It isn’t until an event at Barts that the truth comes out that it was all for a case. - @penaltywaltz

Molly finds out that as a child Sherlock liked the book “The Westing Game” and for one of his birthdays she arranges a vacation mimicking the plot of the book, even if none of them really fit the particular characters. - @penaltywaltz

Sherlock wants to make a gourmet meal for Molly for a special occasion, but he doesn’t seem to get it quite right. Fortunately, a friend/relative is willing to help. - @penaltywaltz

Sherlock moves in with Molly and begins perusing her book collection, picking up random books that have interesting looking covers, and the next thing Molly knows he’s turned into a fantasy buff. - @penaltywaltz (Prompt fill - Stories & Stories by SimplyShelbs16)

Non-established Sherlolly. Sherlock gets a hold of Molly’s phone one afternoon and can’t resist snooping. He’s surprised to see a folder in her photo gallery marked “Special” and it’s all photos of him. - @penaltywaltz

Have you had sex? – After Euros asked that I somehow thought “Molly??” (as Sherlock says, Irene only texts him, he doesn’t reply). Later it seems that Euros is the only one who ever has noticed that Molly causes some emotions in him. So my theory is that something happened between Molly and Sherlock, it happened pretty recently, somehow (stressful night and they talked or they had some drinks and somehow one thing led to another) they ended up having sex; but Sherlock wasn’t good at dealing with it after or something urgent came along and he didn’t really consider Molly’s emotions, he ran off right after or in the morning, and that could be the reason why Molly didn’t pick up the phone first and was in a bad mood during the “ILY scene”. What happened between them recently is the reason why Molly is a bit rude to Sherlock when he calls, and the reason why she gets so emotional and raw so easily over the I Love You thing, and why she so easily tells him to say it first. Well, then when Sherlock says “I love you” he finally realizes fully that he really does love her too, and that he is capable of loving that way, and finally sees how easy it could be and what he could lose. Then after this whole thing he goes to talk to Molly and explain things to her. - @lullikiish

Complete me as a person. — Scene that popped into my mind. Irene has been texting Sherlock again, Sherlock in the end almost agrees to meet her for dinner, but as he’s walking out of his flat while Molly is there looking after Rosie he sees Molly in kind of slo-mo in the golden evening sun holding Rosie and being all sweet. Maybe already something a bit has happened before between them, some flirting, etc. The talk with John about a relationship completing him as a person is on the back of his mind. He walks out, but midway down the stairs while taking his phone out (symbolically in darkness compared to that evening sun) he realizes that he misses that warmth and Molly, and realizes that is what completes him. He takes out his phone and texts he’s not coming and then goes back upstairs. Sees Molly all adorable and confused/surprised in this beautiful light and maybe goes to kiss her, etc. - @lullikiish

Crack!fic. Molly and Sherlock had a fake wedding for a case. However, when Molly applies for a marriage license to Tom, it turns out the wedding was actually real. She has to approach Sherlock for an annulment. It seems Sherlock deleted the event, because he doesn’t seem to remember it. Or does he? It seems he is too busy to sign the paperwork, he has misplaced it, always an excuse not to dissolve the marriage. Eventually he has to admit he really does want to be married to her. So Molly has to decide between two men. Which one does she choose? 😉 - @shadowyqueenbeard

Molly, unbeknownst to Sherlock, suffers from psoriasis since her teen years. This is why she’s been adamant about being more physically intimate with him, no matter how much she wants to. Fortunately for her, Sherlock doesn’t care about it at all. Could be a hard T or M rating. Loosely inspired by Loo’s own bout with the disease. - @violetjersey (Prompt fill - #Balm by @hobbitsdoitbetter)

Fluff and maybe smut, or angst with a happy ending: Molly has a creepy feeling that she is being followed, and goes to Lestrade for help. He discovers that she has a security detail, curtesy of Sherlock. Molly is not pleased with this situation. Sherlock doesn’t understand why not, shouldn’t she be glad that he cares about her safety? After getting an earful from Molly, he cancels the security detail. Molly promptly leaves town without a word to anyone, leaving Sherlock to sweat. Is she okay? Most likely she is on a beach sipping Margaritas, but maybe she’s in trouble. He would like to make amends but first he as to find her. Should he try to locate her or leave her alone as requested? - @shadowyqueenbeard

I have read this in one or two fics, but not really developed as a main theme of the story … so: What if Rosie wants to pair John and Molly? How Sherlock will react and … how will he convince Rosie that Molly is for him and not for John. I’m imagining some angst in the middle because the silly man thinks this is a wonderful idea: Rosie gets a mummy and Molly gets a family. In fact, Sherlock sets up a date between Molly and John while he’s babysitting Rosie. - @kalkopyryt

Crack!Fic. Molly decides to try speed dating. The day she goes Sherlock is there, deducing everyone else to shreds. He tells Molly he is there purely by coincidence. He’s not trying to thwart her attempts at dating at all. Really! - @shadowyqueenbeard

I’m thinking about Sherlock early in their relationship finds someone clothes that are familiar but can’t remember where, but then he watches some old Moriarty video and realizes where the clothes come from. The end is up to the author. Thank you! - @deemura

Fluff. Molly marries Sherlock, believing it is a fake wedding. Molly is livid when she discovers it was real. Sherlock has a lame excuse. Molly really loves Sherlock and wants to be with him, however she is not a pushover. She demands that they have another ceremony, so that this time she will mean her vows when she says them. Alternately, Molly wants the marriage annulled. Sherlock is a little hurt, but doesn’t want to lose her friendship, so he agrees to dissolve the marriage. When Molly receives confirmation that the annulment is final, that is when Sherlock surprises her by asking her out on a date. Can she forgive his deception and begin a real romantic relationship with him? - @shadowyqueenbeard

Fluff. Molly is getting ready to get married to Sherlock believing the wedding to be fake, when she discovers that it is actually going to be a real ceremony. Will she refuse to walk down the aisle at the last minute, or does she go ahead anyway? - @shadowyqueenbeard

Some strange guy is bothering Molly, so she tells him that Sherlock is her fiance in order to make him stop. To her surprise, Sherlock goes along with it. Maybe he goes even further by announcing it to family and friends. Now what does Molly do? - @shadowyqueenbeard

I love the unplanned pregnancy troupe. Any point in their history (you choose) Molly becomes pregnant but thinking Sherlock won’t want to be involved she keeps it from him. - @chiefdoctor

Molly undergoes “kidnap and rescue” training similar to Meghan Markle. It comes in handy when she does actually escape a kidnapper. Now she is lost in the wilderness, trying to stay alive using the survival skills she learned. Sherlock is determined to find her. - @shadowyqueenbeard

Fluff and maybe Smut. Molly has a hot tub. Sherlock shows up unexpectedly to use it. Of course he is not embarrassed to jump into the hot tub naked. What he doesn’t expect is that Molly is naked, too. - @shadowyqueenbeard

#sherlolly prompt list

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betterwithchocolate-blog1 · 7 years ago

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Sherlock/ Sherlolly headcanon

I tried to make it a bit more realistic/ different from what I usually see. Hope you enjoy! :)

Warning beforehand: Gory scenes, swearing and violence

Written by @betterwithchocolate

Length: about 2000 words

***

It had been a rainy day in London. Though as nightfall approached, the gentle afternoon drizzle had twitched into a heavily pouring shower with wind so vile it scratches and burned every inch of exposed skin raw.

Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective, was walking down Baker Street, thankful he had a large upturned collar to protect him from the harsh weather. He did not mind it, though. In fact, he liked the rain, especially when it came storming and breezing as heavily as it did tonight. It reminded him of himself in a way, of his unstoppable obsessive energy, of the way his mind could spin and race in every direction.

Ironically, the storm never caused his thoughts to run wild. The heavy rainfall caused doused the sounds of the city in white noise, and allowed him to think.

His feet splashed on the pavement as his flat came into view, and Holmes was immediately alerted towards the figure in front of his flat, sitting on his steps. The figure was hunched over, face in their hands, knees pulled in to the chest. They were unprotected from the weather, not even wearing a coat. From a distance, Sherlock could tell it, she, was a woman.

As he approached the woman, more detail of her became visible. His mind starting analysing immediately, in the way he was accustomed to.

“Woman. White blouse. Approximately 1.60 metres tall. Blonde-ginger hair. No coat. Why? Did she lose it? No. She chose to, otherwise she would’ve looked for cover. Hunched? Crying? Probably. Yes. Why? Six possible reasons. Not important. Who? Ginger hair, petite posture. Strong, unbothered by the storm. Molly.”

As he got closer, he could see more detail of her face. “Blood. Injured on cheekbone and forehead. Two likely reasons for crying.” Immediately Sherlock quickened his pace towards her and stopped abruptly before her, his coat moving after the sudden change of speed.

“Molly.”

She took her head out of her hands and looked up to Sherlock, she was doused in rain, though not crying. Sherlock noticed that the injuries were made by blunt object with sharp protrusions, and that they were somewhat more severe than he had initially thought, since most of them had been hidden in her hands.

She had cuts on her cheek, multiple sets of two gashes parallel to each other. One likely explanation. That arrogant prick-

“Sh-Sherlock,” Molly stuttered. “I can’t- I don’t know why-” She put her head in her hands again, but only for a brief second.

Sherlock took off his coat and wrapped it around Molly.

“Let’s get you inside.” He already felt the icy water leaking through his shirt. “Up you go.” He said as he helped her stand.

Molly wiped the rain and blood from her face, and Sherlock saw a tinge of pain move through her expression as she did.

Sherlock helped her up the steps, making sure the coat protected her at all times.

“Mrs. Hudson! Tea!” He yelled as he opened the door for Molly. She was shivering a bit, but suppressing it.

Quickly enough, Mrs. Hudson stepped into the hall. “Sherlock, how many times have I told you that I‘m not your-” Mrs. Hudson was cut off by herself, the moment she laid eyes on Molly. “Oh dear, Oh dear, Oh dear!” Were the only sounds heard from her as she turned towards her flat, followed by the rattle of cups shortly after.

Sherlock helped Molly up the stairs. Her hands were trembling, her breath were quivering.

Upon entering his flat, he let go of Molly, and quickly fetched a pile of clothes from his room before walking back to her.

“Sherlock I want to explain...”

“No need. You are cold and dehydrated, likely in shock. Go take a shower first, warm yourself up, and make sure to clean your wounds.”

“But there’s more”

“Yes. I’ve noticed.” He said, and then thought he might’ve spoken too loudly. Quickly he added “Just go shower, we will discuss that after you get yourself warmed up. Okay?”

Molly nodded as she took the pile from Sherlock’s hands. “Okay.”

She walked towards the shower, but before she got in Sherlock turned around in her direction and said “Oh, and leave the door unlocked.”

She nodded again in understanding and then stepped into the bathroom with a small smile, even though Sherlock saw she was in pain.

He was going to tear Tom apart.

***

After Molly had went into the bathroom, he had put on his coat and went outside to face the heavy rain again, before getting in a cab and driving towards Molly’s flat, or rather several streets removed from it. The last few streets he crossed by foot with a steady, fast pace, hands in his pockets, collar upturned. He looked sternly on a fixed point in front of him, before shaking his expression as he climbed the steps in front of Molly’s flat. He put on a mask of friendliness as he rang the doorbell, as he so often had done before.

“Hello?” Tom’s voice sounded from the intercom.

“Yes tom hi!” Sherlock said, in a joyful tone. “Good to talk to you. I was wondering, is Molly home? There is a very urgent matter I must discuss with her”

“Oh hi Sherlock, No... She’s not at the moment unfortunately.”

“Oh. Good. Because I eh, actually, I came to see you.” Sherlock hated mistreating his sentences like this. However, he knew it would have the desired effect. There was a short silence.

“You, you came to see me?” Tom sounded positively surprised. “Eh, okay, yeah sure. Come on up.” His words were followed by the sound of the buzzer. Sherlock grinned. He had known Tom was gay from the moment he saw him. However, he now regretted not telling Molly about it. He just didn’t want to spoil her relationship like he did before, when he first met Moriarty.

He pounded up the stairs, letting his friendly face fall off of him like a brick, and taking off his shawl to put it in his pocket. When he reached Molly’s door, he knocked lightly. Tom opened immediately.

“Hi.” Tom had a smile on his face; Sherlock saw Tom’s knuckles were bruised. He felt disgusted.

“Hello.”

“Come in.” Tom opened the door a bit wider and let Sherlock through. “You know I doubted whether you were gay,” Tom started, as he closed the door.

The moment the door lock clicked behind him, Sherlock whirled and turned around towards Tom, cutting off his sentence. Tom started smiling, though Sherlock wasn’t smiling at all. Before Tom could start speaking again, Sherlock grabbed him by the collar with one hand, and gave a sharp hit with the palm of his other towards Tom’s nostril bone. His head snapped back, his eyes pressed shut with pain. His nose started to bleed. “What the hell!” Tom yelled.

Sherlock yanked Tom forward, letting him trip over his leg, making tom fall face first to his own living room floor. Before he could get up Sherlock quickly delivered a large kick towards Tom’s abdomen, making him curl up and groan almost pitifully. It was a kick enough to injure, not to maim. He probably wouldn’t feel a thing of it anymore in a week, in contrast to the pain molly would have to endure the following month.

“Please!” Tom yelled out, coughing out the blood streaming from his nose. “Please stop!” Tom wretched as Sherlock paused and looked down at him, his gaze disgusted. “I-I, What have I done to deserve this? Are you just doing this for fun?! You’re insane! Bloody psychopath! Get away from me!” He tried to get up, though Sherlock grabbed him by the collar and pulled him towards the kitchen, in which molly had gotten stone flooring laid. When they reached the kitchen Sherlock dropped Tom the way a child would drop an insect after being told its toxicity, and then crouched down beside him.

“First of all,” Sherlock started as he held Tom’s neck backwards in an unnatural angle. “High functioning sociopath.”

“Second of all, you might want to look towards the bruises on your knuckles on your hand regarding as to why I’m doing this. Based on the intensity of the wounds, you must’ve hit with this hand at least seven, no, eight times. Quite recently, it appears, the scabs are still very fresh, wouldn’t you say?”

“Molly was just a stupid b-”

“It would be wise for you to shut up now” Sherlock interrupted “You see, Tom, if there is something I do not stand for, It is domestic abuse or other forms of physical mistreatment towards those smaller than your own size.” Sherlock got up and put the heel of his shoe right atop of Tom’s bruised hand. “If you ever again get the, I must say, extremely idiotic idea to lay a hand on Molly Hooper, please remember this visit of mine, and choose otherwise.”

Tom groaned in pain as Sherlock added pressure onto the hand.

“Actually, allow me to make that decision for you.” Sherlock said, as he lifted his foot up and brought the heel down hard on Tom’s hand, shattering at least three finger bones and two bones connecting the wrist and knuckles. Tom screamed, though not very loud.

“Have I made myself clear?” Sherlock asked. The only response he got was a painful cough through clenched teeth. After that, Sherlock turned around and showed himself out. On the front steps, he phoned Lestrade, saying that there had been a burglary at Molly’s flat, and that Tom had gotten himself quite injured in the process.

When George arrived at the scene, Sherlock told him that Molly had ran to his flat in the panic, that she was soaked wet in rain and just as beaten up as Tom was, which lestrade found odd.

“The odd thing was, inspector, that Miss Hooper had multiple pairs of parallel cuts across her cheek, and I couldn’t quite place with what object she had been attacked.”

“All right, Sherlock, We’ll look into it.”

Completely ignoring with what George had said, Sherlock responded “Have you noticed the ring Tom wears, has 2 stones in it? An intricate design, even if I do say so myself.”

Lestrade was silent for a second. “Yes it is, now that you say so.”

Sherlock smiled at Lestrade briefly before turning around on his way home. “Goodnight inspector!”

***

As she stepped through the door, the storm behind him had calmed to a continuous gentle drizzle, tapping softly on the windows as he heard the warm crackling of the fire in his flat upstairs.

Mrs. Hudson told him John had gotten home while he was out; he had checked on molly’s injuries and was now out to get her some painkillers. He wanted to say that that had hardly had been necessary, for he had a plenitude of painkilling narcotics upstairs. Nevertheless, he decided against it.

In his living room, Molly was sitting on a pillow in front of the fire, with a blanket wrapped around her and her second cup of tea in her hands. She was facing the fire, staring blankly into it. She turned her head when she heard him come in.

“Sherlock hi, I noticed you had gone, um, out.” She looked down.

He took of his wet coat and put it on the coat hanger. “Yes I did, I paid a short visit to Tom. Though the weirdest thing happened, I got there, and he had been beaten up by a burglar.”

Molly looked up, surprised, shocked perhaps. “He was? What happened?” Sherlock walked towards her, and sat down next to her in front of the fire.

“Possible broken nose, broken hand and multiple injured vital organs. He’ll be fine though, don’t worry. However, there is one thing has got me thinking.”

“And what’s that?”

“The hand that was broken had already been injured before. He had hit someone today, multiple times, and hard.” He paused a second before he continued. “But you were the only one that had been with him all day long.”

Molly snivelled a bit, though Sherlock didn’t see any tears. Sherlock saw she realised why he had gone out, and she only said a three small words in response.

“Thank you, Sherlock.”

He pulled her close to his chest

“No need.” He said. “He’s never getting near you again.” Then he leaned his cheek on her head and rocked her lightly.

“You’re safe now, Molly Hooper, you’re safe.”

***

#sherlock #221b baker street #sherlolly #sherlock fic #my work #hope you enjoy #moffat #sherlock holmes #sherlock bbc #fanfic #molly hooper #benedict cumberbatch #louise brealy

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simplyshelbs16xoxo · 7 years ago

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‘On This Winter’s Night’ + Other Secret Santa Gifts!

Hello @cinnsn! I’m your Sherlolly Secret Santa! I hope you enjoy the Sherlolly video and fanfic below! I hope you have a Merry Christmas, darlin! xo

youtube

This winter’s night

Stars shine like silver bells

This winter’s night

The mistletoe kiss and tell

But here in my arms, I’ll keep you warm

And hold you tight on this winter’s night

Molly was sitting on the roof of Bart’s Hospital after her shift, bundled up to keep warm. Snow was drifting down slowly onto the lit up streets. She looked up at the night sky, looking at the stars that could so rarely be seen from below. It was Christmas Eve—exactly a year since the party at 221B where Sherlock nearly deduced her to tears. Even then, she’d prefer for him to be here doing that rather than be in danger whilst taking down Moriarty’s network. She missed him—her best friend. To some people, it would be rather sad that she considered him to be just that, but she understood him and he understood her. They were both outcasts of this world.

“Molly Hooper,” a familiar baritone spoke. She had been so lost in thought, she didn’t even hear the door to the roof open.

“Sherlock?” she questioned in a whisper, looking up at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Nobody should spend Christmas alone,” he replied, sitting down beside her. “Why are you up here, Molly?”

“I come up here every now and then to think,” she told him. “This was where it all happened.”

“Does it haunt you too?” he asked.

“A bit,” she admitted.

“Sometimes, I have nightmares about it—thinking of how it could’ve gone wrong,” he continued. “I wonder how it would’ve been had Moriarty given thought to targeting you as well. The alternatives scare me.”

“Well, the truth of the matter is, you did save your friends,” she reminded him.

“Not all of them,” he muttered. Molly looked at him questioningly. “You’re my friend too, you know. The only person who’s ever understood me completely. I couldn’t save you from the pain of helping me fake my death. It hurts you to not be able to tell anyone the truth when you see them, so you don’t visit with our mutual friends often. And for some unknown godforsaken reason, you miss me.”

“Of course I miss you,” she told him. “John may be your best friend, but you are mine. You laugh at my terrible morbid jokes when it’s just us, I trust you completely and you understand me.”

“Do you not think you’re my best friend too? Molly, I confide in you with things I don’t even talk to John about. You are, ultimately, the only person I’ve never lied to. You do count, Molly Hooper,” he spoke softly. “You’ve always counted. I’m sorry that I ever made you feel otherwise; it wasn’t my intention. If I could take back the pain I’ve caused you, I would do it in a heartbeat. It is my one regret.”

A chill ran through her, causing her to visibly shake. Sherlock slipped off his Belstaff and settled it over her shoulders. When he sat back down he wrapped his arms around her and held her close to him. There was a silent understanding between them. Molly now knew the truth about how he saw her. It was freeing. She reveled in the warmth of his embrace, breathing in his unique scent.

“I left something in that pocket,” he told her, pointing to the Belstaff. “Could you get it out for me?” Molly did as he asked, surprised at the small sprig in her hand.

“Mistletoe?” she questioned.

“Mistletoe,” he confirmed, leaning in slowly, leaving enough time for her to back away if she so pleased. She met him in the middle and just before their lips touched, he whispered, “Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper.”

This winter’s night

Icicle lights will trim the tree

This winter’s night

Wrapped a present or two from you and me

Tuck our children into bed and dream the night away

‘Til the sun dawns in the morning with the joy of Christmas day

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the flat, Sherlock was scolding Toby the cat. The sneaky feline kept trying to play with the ornaments and lights that decorated the tree. Sherlock headed into the bedroom to find Molly wrapping the last couple of gifts, her slender fingers making quick, efficient work of it. Once wrapped, she placed gift tags and curled ribbons to adorn them.

“Hey you,” she smiled, looking up at him. Sherlock sat down beside her on the bed, careful not to sit on any wrapping paper. “Did you get Toby calmed down?”

“Yes, he gave up and went to sleep,” he chuckled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She took his hand in hers, lacing them together. He felt the contrast of her rings against her soft skin. They had been married three years ago, not long after he came back for good, ‘rising up from the dead’ so to speak. Sherlock bent his head down to kiss her tenderly, their tongues instantly mingling. He held her with his free hand, caressing her waist. Their noses brushed together and their soft sounds of pleasure curled her toes.

“Mummy? Daddy?” a little voice sounded from the other side of the door. Their daughter, Charlotte, stood on the other side.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Molly called out. Charlotte entered their room and ran straight to them.

“Were you kissing?” their little girl giggled. “Victor and I are ready for bed now.” Their son now approached as well.

“You are?” Molly asked with enthusiasm. She turned to Sherlock. “Darling, you know what that means.” They both lifted their children in their arms—Sherlock with Charlotte and Molly with Victor—and danced with them down the hallway. The laughter of the twins filled the room. They went upstairs to their room and settled their children into bed, tucking them in. Each of them had a teddy bear with a deerstalker, gifted to them by their Uncle John and Aunt Mary, who would be over for dinner tomorrow with Rosie.

When they turned out the light and went back downstairs, Sherlock went into the kitchen to pour them both a glass of Molly’s favourite mulled wine. She was lounging on the sofa, smiling at him as he handed her a glass and sat down beside her. They spent some time in comfortable silence, sipping their wine. She sensed that there was something he wanted to say by the way he was now looking at her.

“You alright?” she asked.

“Hm? Oh yes,” he replied. “I was just thinking.” Thinking about how beautiful you are.

“Sometimes, you think too much,” she teased.

“Do I?” he questioned rhetorically. “Well then, Mrs. Holmes, I guess you’ll have to find a way to distract me from my thoughts.”

“Does this help?” she asked before pressing kisses along his jawline.

“Mm,” he sounded, unable to form any coherent words. “A bit.”

“Only a bit?” she asked, her voice playful and sultry. She kissed her way down his neck, spending time with her lips at his pulse point. “How about now?”

“Mm, nope,” he smirked. That’s when Molly set aside their wine glasses and climbed into his lap, her fingers tangling in his curls before pressing her lips against his. They took their time with lingering drawn-out kisses that made their hearts beat rapidly together. His arms tightened around her when she brushed her nose affectionately against his. By this point, all thoughts ceased to exist in his head—Molly was all there was. It was moments like these that were the only thing capable of showing how much he loved her.

I love yous were spoken breathlessly between kisses, adding to the electricity between them. Sherlock broke their kiss, allowing her to catch her breath. As she did, he pressed soft kisses to her cheek and the tip of her nose. Molly left her hands in his hair, gently stroking the curls, whilst she buried her face against his neck, nuzzling her nose against his skin. Oh, how she loved him with every beat of her heart. She felt him shift slightly, but settled soon after.

“I know we said no gifts this year, but I wanted you to have this,” he told her, handing her a small white box with a red ribbon tied around it. Molly slipped her hands from his hair to open it. Inside was—

“Mistletoe?” she asked. The succulent plant had been pressed in the way you press a flower. “Like the one from our night on the roof.”

“Actually, it’s the very same one,” he told her. “I learnt how to press it properly those years ago, but never got around to giving it to you until now.”

“Sherlock, this is so lovely, thank you,” she told him, all choked up. “Thank you.” It was just a whisper in his ear. He felt her press a kiss to his cheek and she snuggled back into him.

“Merry Christmas, Molly Holmes,” he smiled, pressing a kiss into her hair. The sound of the crackling fire and the beating of his heart lulled Molly to sleep in his arms.

fanfiction.net | ao3

#Sherlolly #sherlolly secret santa 2017 #cinnsn #my fanfiction #my fan video

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the-sapphiresky · 7 years ago

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The Masked Swordsman

AN: Did anyone ask for Zorro!lock Sherlolly?!

Heart racing, he leapt down the stone wall, black cape fluttering behind him, and slipped under the arch just as the shouts and footsteps of the guards sounded above. Leaning back into the shadows, he felt the cold, hard steel of a handle and, to his relief, found the door to be unlocked. He slipped inside and was immediately hit by the scent of hay and manure. It appeared he’d stumbled upon side entrance to the stables.

Though still trapped on the grounds, his token was still safely stored in his belt and he breathed a sigh of relief for a moment’s reprieve to formulate a new plan of escape.

Until, that is, he felt the cold blade of a sword at his throat.

Turning slowly, he raised his hands. His eyebrows went up behind his black cloth mask at seeing, not a guard, but a tiny spitfire of a woman.

Molly Hooper.

His mark’s niece stood before him clad only in her corseted undergarments and a loosely tied dressing gown. Her long, brown hair was pulled back in a loose plait and shimmered with golden strands as the sun filtered from the gapes in the rafters above. Her features were rather singular, almost elfin in appearance, but strong of character.

He eyed her stance and deduced instantly that she was not putting up a farce. Her form was impeccable and there was not a tremble along the deadly blade in her hand. With righteous fire in her deep brown eyes, she was an enchanting sight.

“Give it back,” she spat.

Sherlock smirked. “Give what back?”

She narrowed her eyes at him and looked down his body. He carefully did not make a motion toward the papers stashed under his tunic at his waist. “Whatever it is you have stolen from my uncle. Do not insult me by denying it.”

Slowly, Sherlock stepped sideways and edged toward the middle of the room. “Very well.”

She raised an eyebrow in challenge. “You’ll give it back?”

He crossed his arms, feigning nonchalance despite the sword at his throat. “No, I’m just not denying I took it.”

She huffed angrily and pressed the tip of her blade harder into his throat, not yet piercing the skin. “Give. It. Back.”

There was no time for this. Easily, Sherlock ducked out of her reach and unsheathed his own sword, executing a complicated twist of his wrist to catch it, raising it protectively in front of himself just in time to deflect her attack.

His arm trembled slightly as she bore down and he found himself impressed by her strength. It was, of course, no match for his own, but she was clearly a trained swordsman whose ability already surpassed that of the guards he’d escaped from.

“Thief,” she accused and pulled her sword from the tangle of his and whirled about, swiping the blade in a horizontal arc as she did so. He leaned back just in time only to jump out of the way as she lunged forward and pierced the air where he’d been standing. Bringing his blade around, he swiped at her, not with intent to kill. An act she easily parried.

Back and forth, they attacked and deflected, his mocking smirk fading to a determined scowl. Somewhere in the process, Sherlock lost his hat and Molly’s hair had come completely undone, flying about her rosy cheeks as they dueled. For a moment, Sherlock did wonder if she would succeed in disarming him. Her ability was far greater than he anticipated and he found himself distracted by the sight of her passion.

But ultimately, her passion was her downfall and when she let her guard down with an enraged shout, Sherlock locked their blades together. Reaching around, he caught her free hand and held it captive behind her back. She struggled to free herself, breathing heavily, the bosom of her corset rising and falling rapidly. He couldn’t help but notice the appreciation in her eyes, though she tried to fight it, as he held her against himself.

“You’ll never get away with this,” she declared.

As he looked down into the eyes of this woman who had broken every expectation he’d made, for the first time in nearly a year thoughts of revenge against the man who had murdered his brother weren’t at the front of his mind.

“Perhaps,” he admitted. His jaw clenched. “But I will die trying.”

She stilled. Her brow furrowed and an almost soft, sympathetic look washed over her face.

She was an innocent in this whole sordid mess, he had known that from the beginning. It was her uncle, or rather the man who claimed to be her uncle, who was a murderer and blackmailer. Sherlock assumed she was ignorant of her uncle’s dealings. But as she looked up at him, he got the unsettling feeling that she knew; and she knew what he was going to do. A silent war was waging within her and he felt her body slowly relax, her grip on her sword slackening. And as Sherlock stared down at her, he promised himself he would make sure she was unharmed and without blame when all of Magnussen’s dealings came to light.

Heedless of the fact that the guards were closing in, Sherlock unlocked their blades and, in a show of trust, slowly backed away and sheathed his sword.

Molly lowered her sword, that same look on her face that made him wonder if she could see beneath his mask, beneath his caped façade, to the broken heart he guarded. Uncomfortable with the idea, he put his confident swagger back in place and swept down in a mocking bow with a smirk. “Until next time, Molly Hooper.” Picking his hat up, he dusted the hay off of it, and placed it back upon his head, running his hand along the brim.

He was about to escape the way he’d come, his hand on the door, when she spoke behind him.

“I look forward to it.”

He stilled. Pulling his hand back, he looked at her over his shoulder.

Suddenly spinning around, he strode over to her and cupped her face with his gloved hands. Her eyes were wide and her lips parted just as he leaned down and stole a kiss, a rather passionate kiss as she was just as eager as he. Her sword clattered to the ground as her hands gripped his waist and her mouth met his, challenging him in their kiss as she’d challenged him in swordplay.

Oh, this complicated everything.

Breathless and flushed, Sherlock pulled back and let his fingers trail over the soft skin of her cheeks. Her eyes were closed and her lips pleasantly plumped from his attentions. She leaned forward, following him. He resisted the temptation to steal those lips again and backed away.

With a wink, he slipped out the back and sprinted away, just as the guards burst into the stables from the other entrance.

Until we meet again, Molly Hooper.

#zorro!lock #sherlolly #sword fight #molly hooper is awesome as usual #sherlock in a black mask and cape with stubble and a sword...#yes please #hubba hubba!!

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cumbercougars · 7 years ago

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The LimeLight Interviews Number Two

Hello fellow Tumblrs,

Welcome to the second LimeLight Interview, and thank you for your patience. This time @glitterkitty4ever was kind enough to submit herself to my questioning on Sept 24, 2017. She is a fabulous artist who has traveled round the sun some forty times and counts ginger as one of her favorite flavours. We met for our session on that Sunday evening and begun.

glitterkitty4ever I’m available to chat . :)

cumbercougars Cool choose a number between 1 & 30

glitterkitty4ever 10

cumbercougars 10. What makes you irrationally angry?

glitterkitty4ever When people treat really lovely people unfairly. Racism, misogyny bigotry. Bullies.

cumbercougars What is your most frivolous wish?

glitterkitty4ever Um, maybe all the desserts I could eat without gaining weight. Or, a nice cottage in the woods that’s always clean.

cumbercougars Hmmm I like both of those. What most surprises you about yourself?

glitterkitty4ever I guess I’m tougher than I thought. I have an auto immune disease and I struggle with major depressive disorder. I have days when I cry a lot. But, for my family I push through. I’m really not impressed with myself, but I am super stubborn!

cumbercougars What makes you most powerful at a given moment?

glitterkitty4ever My desire to be kind. When I choose to be kind. When someone really needs that and I can say or do something to boost them a bit, then it feels so good!

cumbercougars You are right! I never thought of it that way. (And I didn`t, this answer gave me new perspective. Sometimes it is too easy to feel like a doormat when being kind. Thank you @glitterkitty4ever for this)

cumbercougars What are you most passionate about? How do you act on that passion?

glitterkitty4ever Being creative I think. I will get out my art supplies and make some art. I love to write. I have a WIP book that’s a hot mess in it’s first draft. I have 3 unfinished fan fics and I would love to at least finish one for Sherlolly Halloween celebration. I also love to bake and when I can get my joints settled I do that. I used to want to be a pastry chef. Lol!

cumbercougars Yes your art, let’s talk about that. Is it all fan art? Or do you also create your own original art.

glitterkitty4ever It’s mixed media. I can’t draw. My daughter can draw anything. I do collage and paper piecing. I used embellishments, free for use images and decorative papers and maybe a sprinkling of glitter… :) I make altered shipping tags bookmark and small canvas collages.

cumbercougars I love collage/mixed media! I absolutely suck at it so I admire those who can handle the challenge. I hope there will be some pics you can share for this article.

cumbercougars How do you go about putting together a piece?

glitterkitty4ever Sometimes it’s a color scheme. Or an image that I like and build a theme around. I get out all my bibs and bobs and scissors and start playing around until it’s something I like. I have to practice restraint because I tend to gild the lily sometimes.

cumbercougars Do you happen to like Rococo? Never enough gilding the lily for me :)

glitterkitty4ever Yes! I love Rococo! And, Victorian Edwardian…

cumbercougars What do you think people misunderstand most about you?

glitterkitty4ever Um, I’m a bit introverted and I have anxiety issues. I’m easily hurt, so I hold myself back. I fear some people might think I’m stuck up, or not fun. But, I really do like to engage with people. I just become awkward and loose my social skills. I’m working on it, but it’s difficult.

cumbercougars I’m with you on the introversion and anxiety (plus I am a hermit at heart). What is your favorite comfort food?

glitterkitty4ever I have to go with dessert! Brownies or a pastry with a cup of Earl Grey. Tea is mandatory with or without dessert.

cumbercougars TEA!!! Totally a tea person myself.

cumbercougars What is something you would love to learn?

glitterkitty4ever I would like to learn Spanish. I would love to learn how to not be afraid of so many things. Can you learn bravery? I would love to learn how to become a fearless confident person. Wow, that got deep!

cumbercougars Actually bravery and confidence are learned behaviors/skills, so yes. They do take a lot of practice and motivation. And you start with the little things, and work your way up.

glitterkitty4ever It’s the first tiny step that’s the hardest. Lol, been there too!

cumbercougars That’s why you just do it. Don’t think about it. This is where thinking does not necessarily help.

cumbercougars What is your best practical skill? How did it become so?

glitterkitty4ever I over think everything… Oh practical? I’m torn between being able to grow anything, or cooking. I learned to cook because I wanted to be like my Grandmother. When my daughter was born it became important to me that we had healthy meals and really nice meals and treats for special occasions. I like the creative process of it. Gardening brings me peace. So, not sure if that’s as practical.

cumbercougars Ok, last question, what is your trickiest of tricks?

glitterkitty4ever Um… well, I figured out that Vitamin A capsules can be poked with a clean safety pin and the actual oil inside is the cheapest Retinol face treatment ever. Weird, I know. Um, I have premonition dreams sometimes… oh, apple cider vinegar eliminates all kinds of smells. Gosh those tricks of mine are just random and odd!

cumbercougars Those are great! Will have to try the Vitamin A and Apple Cider Vinegar ones.

cumbercougars Did you have fun? I know I did. Though I did not ask any questions about glitter. So I’m going to now. What is your glitter philosophy?

glitterkitty4ever This was fun. My glitter philosophy is add enough to catch the light and attract fairies. ♡

cumbercougars Oh I like that!

cumbercougars

And would you mind sharing a piece of artwork for this interview? as well as links to your fanfic.

glitterkitty4ever I haven’t submitted any fics yet. I can probably take some pics of some of my art stuff.

And here we have a few of glitterkitty4ever Mixed Media pieces. They are so beautiful! According to her they are easy to do, but from my perspective not so much. It takes a sense of freedom and adventure to collage and mix elements like this. This is a form of expression I admire a lot, because it scares the heck out of me. Thank you for sharing these with us.

Altered canvas shadow box shrine to Venus

Altered canvas shadow box shrine

Altered mixed media shipping tag

#the limelight interviews #limelight interviews #interviews #limelight interview glitterkitty4ever #mixedmedia #glitter #collage

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youknowmymethods · 6 years ago

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Sherlock & Sherlolly content creator interviews

Hello fellow tumblerinos, Sherlockians and Sherlolly fans!

I’m so excited to share the news that the seed planted by @sunken-standard in this post to start a project of content creator interviews in the Sherlolly and Sherlock fandom has taken root and is now open for sign-ups!

The project will be hosted here, on the You Know My Methods, Watson tumblr moderated by @ohaine, and will take the form of interviews given by people who contribute to the Sherlolly and Sherlock corner of the fandom, carried out by volunteers who will compile their own questions (but including up to three questions submitted through the project ask box by other tumblr users, see below). Interviews will be conducted on a one to one basis, and must be submitted by February 1st, 2019 for posting on February 15th.

How to sign up, schedule, participants and further details are given below the cut.

Sign-ups:

So far there are nine participants, listed here. Right now we are short three interviewers, so it would be wonderful if people willing to fill those spots could get in touch. I’m also hoping that someone with knowledge of art/photo manips, etc. would agree to conduct an interview.

Because we’re already top-heavy with interviewees, going forward I can only accept sign-ups from paired interviewers/interviewees* or unpaired interviewees who are also willing to interview another unpaired interviewee**.

* Paired interviewers/interviewees are people signing up with a partner who they will be interviewed by.

** i.e. you gotta do both.

To sign up, contact the mod through the project tumblr private message facility. If already paired, both parties should pm indicating who they are paired with and stating which is the interviewer and which is the interviewee.

Anyone signing up should ensure to follow the project tumblr for updates.

Schedule:

Sign-ups: 09 November 2018 - 20 November 2018

Ask box open: 09 November 2018 - 20 November 2018

Participants: Posted 09 November and updated regularly until 20 November

Interviewers and interview subjects paired and notified: 30 November 2018

Interview guidelines and resources posted: 30 November 2018

Interviews submitted to moderator by: 01 February 2019

Interviews posted: 15 February 2019

All deadlines are midnight, GMT.

Medium:

Written, audio or video formats are acceptable as long as they can be previewed by the submission date and are compatible with posting on tumblr. I’m completely ignorant when it comes to podcasts, video, etc. so anyone choosing a format other than text based will have to be able to provide tech support for their submission.

Text based submissions should be in a word document (or similar).

Interview questions:

Interviewers and their subjects are free to decide amongst themselves how they’d like to proceed, but in general:

Question should be about the interviewees work, and subjects of a private/sensitive nature should be avoided.

The person conducting the interview should have a good knowledge of their subject’s fandom contributions in order to make questions relevant and unique.

Generic questions, such as ‘What’s your favourite…’ should be avoided or at least limited to ones that lead into other more specific questions.

Anything that might be offensive to other ships/shippers isn’t nice, and we just wouldn’t do that anyway, would we?

Moderator will have final say on content. Not a power I anticipate having to use, but putting it out there now as it’s better to be safe than sorry.

A list of resources and further guidelines will be posted on 30 November.

Ask Box:

If you have a question you’ve always wanted to ask one of the interviewees submit an ask to the project tumblr stating both the question and who it’s for (from the list of participants). For the purposes of transparency asks should not be submitted anonymously. It should be noted that I can’t guarantee that your question will be used as content will be dictated by the interview pairs, but I will pass all questions on.

Please don’t contact participants directly with individual questions.

Interviews:

Unpaired interviewers and interviewees (sign ups post 08 Nov) will be paired by the moderator. I’m sorry but it won’t be possible to facilitate requests to be paired with a specific person.

Participants:

For their information, tagging those who’ve already agreed to participate:

As of 09 November 2018.

@theemptyquarto

@ohaine

@sunken-standard

@ashockinglackofsatin

@mizjoely

@likingthistoomuch

@kstewmanipulation

@miabicicletta

@hobbitsdoitbetter

It should be said that it’s the first time I’ve done something like this, so your patience and help is greatly appreciated. Please feel free to contact me with any questions.

#sherlolly #sherlock and sherlolly content creator interviews

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captainhookcaptainfreedom · 7 years ago

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Study Buddies. Just Study Buddies. (a Sherlolly fanfiction)

This was written for @katfevre for the Sherlolly Fic Exchange 2017.

Prompt: Sherlock and Molly at university. They keep running into each other in the library: looking for books in the same section, hiding/studying in the same secret corners. Small polite exchanges develop into longer conversations, which develop into a friendship and eventually into a snogging session in the book stacks.

Molly Hooper was a scholarship student. The only reason she was able to attend the “Doyle School for the Gifted” was her brilliant test scores. That and the abnormal love she had for anatomy at the age of 11 which had intrigued the school board and admissions staff. She had been accepted into the school at age 12 and had been going there for 5 years now. As a senior, Molly Hooper would be expected to complete a final (and impressive) research project before heading off to university. Most Doyle students could choose to go to whatever university they wanted. Molly, however, knew that her family would struggle to fund her future academic ventures and knew that she had to make this last year at Doyle count. In order to do this, Molly found herself studying in the library every day for many long hours.

William “Sherlock” Holmes was from a so called “legacy family” at Doyle. His older brother, Mycroft, had attended the school. As had his mother. His mother’s father had gone to Doyle and his father before him. The Holmes had always been students at Doyle ever since its conception. It was expected that Sherlock would not be the last Holmes to attend Doyle School. Of course, that was the opinion of the school and of the Holmes parents and ancestry. The opinion of Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes was, in fact, that they would be the last two Holmes to attend Doyle. Mycroft was not inclined to procreate anytime soon due to his extreme lack of interest in women and his abundant appreciation for the male form. Sherlock had proclaimed on more than one occasion that he found everyone, no matter their sex, far too dull to even be bothered with and that he had no intention of ever tying himself to one of them permanently. Sherlock preferred to throw himself into the quest for knowledge, useful knowledge. During his senior year at Doyle, unlike most of the teenage boys running rampant on the property, he’d spend most of his time cooped up in the dusty old library.

Doyle School for the Gifted was attended by students of all sorts. The one thing they all had in common was that they all were “gifted” in some way. Not all were the blatantly intelligent like the Holmes brothers or even Molly Hooper. Many were intelligent in certain areas, but some simply had impressive talent. Doyle employed staff of all sorts to meet every need of their students. Even their stranger needs would be met. Molly’s own small circle of friends displayed this. Molly herself did as well.

She had a therapy cat. His name was Toby. He had been a gift from her father and was the only thing that helped calm her down after a bout of her social anxiety. She was allowed to keep him in her dorm room. There were vets available to her in case he ever needed anything. If needed, she was even granted permission to carry him with her to her classes.

Then there was James Moriarty. Molly was friends with him, or at least she was friends with parts of him. She was friends with what they (their little group of friends) kind heartedly referred to as “techie Jim”, “gay Jim”, and “shy Jim”. There were probably a few other “Jims” she got along with, but those three were what she deemed Jim’s best. Jim Moriarty had a personality disorder. A multiple personality disorder aka dissociative identity disorder. Despite this apparent “setback” to Jim’s learning, he’d instantly been accepted to Doyle. Jim was beyond clever. Somehow, Doyle had gotten ahold of expert therapist and counselors to work with the Moriarty boy and attempt to help him when his darker personalities came out to play. Occasionally, they were unsuccessful and James would attempt arson or suicide, but they always found him before anything went too far.

Then there was Sebastian Moran. He was Jim’s right hand man. Sebastian would stay by Jim’s side through all the personalities. (Molly had noted more than once that “gay Jim” was the most likely to willing and excitedly stick to Sebastian side.) He himself had a few anger issues and had been called a sadist more than once. He’d been accepted to Doyle at 16, far later than most. He’d already been sued twice when caught hunting on private property. Doyle didn’t mind the criminal record.

Of course, there were also Meena and Mike who didn’t seem to have special needs of any kind.

Molly was content with her small and odd group of friends. She had no interest in pursuing new ones. The mere thought made her skin crawl.

Sherlock Holmes had no need for people. He had no friends. Well, he had one friend at Doyle. John Watson had somehow wormed his way into Sherlock’s nonexistent social circle. He had easily grabbed the title of “best friend”.

A blur of black and purple rushed into the Doyle library. It was Sherlock Holmes. His sharp, pale features were an extreme contrast from his dark hair. Already there, in a quiet and dusty corner, was Molly Hooper.

Sherlock took a seat at the opposite side of the large library from Molly. The two did not even notice each other’s presence.

The librarian at the Doyle School, a lovely older woman with a spunky attitude by the name of Martha Hudson, knew both Molly and Sherlock very well. She had not been fond of the previous Holmes students, but she thought Sherlock was an absolute dear. She had declared Molly Hooper to be “as sweet as pie” the first time they had met and her opinion of the girl had lasted. When the old grandfather clock in the library rang out that it was already midnight, Mrs.Hudson collected her things and left the library, locking the doors behind her. All the students had been gone for hours. Well, all the students but two, Molly Hooper and Sherlock Holmes. Neither student reacted as Mrs.Hudson left for the night. They had both gone through this before.

At around 2am, Molly Hooper stretched out her arms, rolling her sore shoulders. She had sat here looking over these endless documents for hours. None of it even seemed to be helpful to her research. She got up and wandered the stacks, knowing that it always helped her think. As she passed the shelves she would occasionally stop and pull out a book she thought might possibly help her project until she reached her destination. She already had five books in her hands, but knew that she must fit one more. Trying not to drop her selected tomes, she reached up, stretching her short body, and barely grasped her fingers around the desired item. A play. A Shakespearean play. Today it would be Much Ado About Nothing . Last night it had been Romeo and Juliet . Tomorrow night it might be -

Molly stopped. It was missing. Richard III was missing. Molly knew she had put it back after she’d pulled it a couple weeks ago. No one else came into the Shakespeare section. No one. At least, she didn’t think so. She had never seen anyone other than her there before.

Molly turned around, her brain preoccupied with what had happened to Richard III , and instantly knocked into something very solid. Something that should not have been there. Something that was actually a someone.

“Holy fucking hell,” Molly shouted. Her breath coming in gasps as she stared shocked at the other body. The body she was sure had no business being here at 2:30 in the morning. “You scared me half to death,” she accused him. The library was only dimly lit at this hour but she could still recognize her companion. Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock freaking Holmes.

He eyed her. “I didn’t realize you were here. The library is closed after all.”

Molly started turning red from anger (but perhaps also a bit from embarrassment. She had shouted so crudely and all her books had fell from her arms onto the ground. It made her look careless and as much as he was a prat, Sherlock Holmes was a gorgeous and frightfully intelligent prat.) She stumbled over her words as she begin, “I have, I mean, Mrs.Hudson she gave me special permission to be here after hours. Not just today. I’m here every night. She gave me a key. It was only because I explained that I needed the extra time and resources for my research. I don’t sleep anyway. She verified my insomnia with the nurse and-” Molly closed her mouth realizing she had already said too much. She was rambling. She didn’t want to ramble in front of Sherlock Holmes! Well, at least Jim had said her rambling was cute. Maybe Sherlock would think so too. Who was she kidding? Of course he wouldn’t. Wait, that’s right. Sherlock was here. What was he doing here? “What are you doing here so late - er, early?”

Sherlock stepped past her. She had not noticed the book he carried in his hand, but he slipped it back on the shelf. “Mrs.Hudson has let me stay here as long as I please since I was thirteen. I can assure you that I as well am here almost every night.”

Sherlock the turned away from her and walked out into the depths of the library, disappearing within the shelves.

“Huh,” Molly sighed. She collected her books from the floor and the turned back to the Shakespeare shelf. Richard III had returned to its rightful place. “Huh,” she repeated to herself.

The next day, Molly scoped out where Sherlock sat in the library. He spent much of his free time during the day there, just as she did. She only wasted a few hours finding his preferred spot.

That night, when Mrs.Hudson left, Molly collected her belongings and moved across the library to where Sherlock sat. She quietly placed her things down on the table next to Sherlock and sat.

He didn’t startle, but raised one perfect eyebrow at her. “What are you doing? You can’t sit with me.”

Molly smiled. “I just thought it might be nice if we spent the night together. Um, the nights here. Studying.” She was already flustered.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Well, you were wrong. It will not be ‘nice’.”

Molly was not about to give up.

Their first few nights together (studying! Only studying!) were filled with poor jokes on Molly’s side and contempt from Sherlock. Eventually, however, he would start to smile just a bit when she laughed at something delightfully morbid. He also began showing her his research on bees. She was instantly enthralled. He found that she made

a good research partner. Molly was more than willing to help out anyway she could. Sherlock even found himself interested in her own work on human tissue. Dead human tissue.

The days turned into weeks turned into months. Then, one night they were both there. Molly had left earlier but come back around 3am, never wanting to miss a night with Sherlock. She had gone to attend the Christmas party that Jim was secretly hosted in the dorms. She knew Sherlock wouldn’t come but had silently hoped that perhaps he would show up. She knew she looked nice. Her hair done up and her makeup a brilliant shade of red. So, when she went to see Sherlock she left herself done up. Hoping to evoke a reaction.

She did.

Sherlock found himself looking at her again and again that night. He wanted to kiss her. He’d never wanted to kiss anyone before. But Molly, Molly Hooper.

It’d just be an experiment. Sherlock said that to himself over and over. It’d just be for science’s sake.

So he kissed her.

Her lips were soft. She tasted like mint and ginger. It was positively brilliant. She was positively brilliant. Molly sighed into the kiss. This. This is what she had wanted. He was what she had wanted. Needed really.

Sherlock would never admit it, but he needed her too.

And since experiments always should have more than one trial, he kissed her again.

I'm fairly certain I hadn't posted this on tumblr yet. If I did - well, lucky tumblr gets it twice!

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