also molly hooper!


Life goes on…

for fucks sake why couldn’t they have ended it with the gang eating cake in 221b

Post series 4 headcanon where Sherlock sets Molly up on a friend date with Janine because Janine is all outgoing and cheeky and confident and he hopes she’ll help Molly find some confidence and joy. So after like awkward beginnings they hit it off spectacularly and start hanging out all the time- movie marathon nights, coffee every Tuesday, deep and meaningful conversations about their shit luck with men (with more than a few hours dedicated to men specifically called Sherlock). They even try double speed dating which ends up being so lame and hilariously bad that they go twice more and give themselves fake names and make up ridiculous background stories and then laugh for hours afterwards that they still managed to get guys numbers despite the bullshit hobbies and repulsive interests they made up in an attempt to put them off. They stumble out giggling and Molly can’t actually believe she was able to pull that off again, couldn’t have imagined 6 months ago that this vivacious woman with a wicked sense of humour could have managed to bring meek, little Molly so far out of her shell. She finds herself bewildered by the fact that Janine not only encourages Molly’s awkward attempts at humour but actually finds her funny and adorable even if 90% of Molly’s jokes are about dead bodies and autopsies and don’t usually translate well with “normal” people.

Eventually it shifts to something more than friendship, and neither of them even realises for ages because they’ve always been into men; a core part of their identity has been tied up in their “bad luck with men” so it doesn’t even occur to them that The Right Man isn’t, in fact, a man at all. They’ve consistently talked about their shit taste in men and one night at Molly’s they are commiserating again. They are both casually self deprecating, wine drunk, and giggly after a romcom session when Molly looks up at Janine, face flushed, and whispers “maybe we’ve been getting it wrong the whole time, we need to forget about men and go after women” and she is only half serious but still gets a bit giddy even suggesting it. Janine leans in, breath warm across Molly’s cheek and smirks; “why miss Molly, aren’t you full of surprises tonight” and thinks why the hell not before pressing her lips against Molly’s. The gasp that comes from Molly is comically loud and they both pull away laughing; this is possibly the most ridiculous thing they’ve done yet…but it’s also fun and feels right in its silliness and they both think oh. there you are.

I was going through TSoT screencaps because I love to suffer and I noticed something that I don’t think I’ve seen mentioned? The cardigan that Molly wears throughout S4, seen here in TST:

Is from the Vitruvian John scene in TSoT?

Here it is again:

same sweater.  So… Molly’s S4 sweater, the one she wore in TST and TLD, the one that stood out so much in the promo pics, is….. the one she was wearing when she realized Sherlock is gay/in love with John

The Holmes Children

Hamish Michael Holmes (age 19)

The eldest of the bunch. It cannot be denied he is Sherlock’s son and although he has the intelligence of a Holmes, his compassion and understanding undoubtedly makes him Molly’s. He finds love in anything space related and has a passion for piano. He is protective of his sister and his brother is his best friend. All in all he is the most likable, if not lovable, of the Holmes children.

Originally posted by derpeej

William Victor Holmes (age 17)

The middle child of the Holmes children. His sweet and innocent face is a perfect mask for his wild and adventuress self. He loves puzzles and pranks. And like his father he also has a love for “the game”. He will do anything for his family yet he isn’t always desirable. He is in short a jokester with all the charm and wit of a Holmes man.

Originally posted by gabys42

Elizabeth Louise Holmes (age 13)

The baby of the group. She’s sweet and loving like her mother but stubborn like her father. She knows she’s daddy’s little princess but she isn’t the typical girly girl. Though that never stops her from having her way when it comes to her father and brothers. Her goal is to become the world’s very best consulting detective.

Originally posted by anneboleyns

The Sordid Coat Romance

@8minutehooper said: Congrats!! Well…since you specifically mentioned Mycroft’s brolly… how about Molly being jealous of Sherlock’s coat? Kind of a twisted version of CoatLock (cause we know Sherlock loves the thing!) :) I don’t know, I stink at prompts, so I’ll be happy for anything you feel like doing.

This was excellent prompts, I don’t know what you’re talking about. So… you said ‘jealous of’, and I might have read that as 'madly in love with’. >.> Molly is kind of a madwoman in this and I don’t care because I love it. Also Jim was feeling left out so there is bonus sort of Molliarty because we don’t want to piss off Jim.

Keep reading

Jesus Lord though REALLY??

I am so sorry to new followers, I typically avoid major wankages in the Sherlock dumpster fire fandom but some things are too ugly to ignore.  Yes it may seem silly, but it isn’t silly to me.  Not at all.

I’m a survivor myself, of childhood trauma, but trauma nonetheless.  Seeing those posters make light of true victimhood is not ok.  You don’t get to make images that misrepresent the characters of a tv show to manipulate people into thinking they embody TRUE abuse.  What makes it truly horrible though, is that the person put real, actual abuse hotline numbers and women’s organization phone numbers on these images.  Damn.  ૮(ꂧꁞꂧ)ა

I’m fine with Johnlockers chaffing til the cows come home about their ship not becoming canon, but the continued outright LIES have to cease.  Write your fanfic.  Drawn your fanart.  Fix the show in those ways, that’s fine.  We all do it.  But you guys have to stop poisoning the rest of the fans who enjoyed this thing with outright falsehoods.  Move on, find a new thing that gives you what you want, fix the thing in your head…but stop ravaging the rest of us with your bitter cucumbers of buttock fruit.

sarcastic-doodle  asked:

*sneakily tiptoes in* *drops prompt like a hot potato* 'Soulmate AU where you have the first words your soulmate will say to you tattooed on your arm. James' is a bit unfortunate(lemontarts4lyf1988)'


From the minute the words appeared on his arm, Jim had laughed. It had to be a hopelessly awkward creature to begin their meeting by saying, “I’m so sorry about your lemon tarts.” Of course, it helped that the writing was uncomfortably cramped and rather nervous.

He didn’t think his destined mate was going to pose a threat. Not even a little bit.

The problem came when Sebastian realised what the words were. Because the man needed very little prompting to start laughing, and that is all he did. Every joke from “the girl must be a tart” to “blimey, I think you can never have lemon tarts again,” was repeated. It wasn’t Jim’s fault that he had been in the locker room and rather careless about his person when Sebastian saw.

Of course, later, very few people got close enough to Jim to know what the words were. Irene Adler found out because she was his lover – and God help him if he wasn’t more careful after that.

“Tarts,” she whispered to him. “I wonder, James, if you will ever find her. I’d like to meet her if you do.”

“By all means,” he had said. “I’m sure whoever it is would be more than willing to be murdered by either of us. That’s the funny thing about killing – you don’t care who’s behind the gun as long as the shot is still aimed at you, isn’t it, dearest?”


But no, no matter how many criminal empires one had, no matter how many people one murdered, and no matter how many countries Jim destroyed, the two people who knew would not stop using the words against him.

“Boss, we have lunch in the evening with the Americans. Arms deal and all that.”

“Of course,” said Jim, twirling his tie.

“Would you like some lemon tarts for tea?” asked Moran innocently.

“Would you like your brains on the wall?” asked Jim sweetly.


“Sherlock Holmes would be very easy, don’t worry,” Irene drawled. “I know what he likes – or I’ll find out.”

“I hope you find out soon, sweetheart,” Jim said with a grin.

“As soon as you find lemon tarts,” said Irene just as evenly.

Jim scowled. Whoever the destined lover was, they’d already ruined his life.


Of course Moran had organised the meeting with Mrs. Porter in a coffee shop. It was tedious that women wanted their husbands murdered, and it didn’t help that Mrs. Porter was both stupid and extremely high up in the ladder of power – or at least, her husband was.

Jim handled assassinations of ten and above personally. This was one of them.

But Moran – Moran was just pissed because Jim had forced him to do stake-out duty after one quip too many. Stake-outs were ruthlessly boring and gloriously unrewarding.

He rolled his eyes, staring at his watch. The woman seemed to be creating a false image of herself having the leave to be late. That had to be quashed.

“Would you like to order, sir?” asked the waitress.

“The lemon tarts,” he said, without looking at the menu. They were a good dessert, after all. “And a cup of black coffee.”

The waitress disappeared, and Jim regarded the rain outside the window. The maddening drip-drip-drip was like a pounding call of everyday life. He sucked in a deep breath.

That was when the girl entered – she was out of breath, wet due to the rain, soaked to the bone, and clumsy. She slammed right into the waitress who had held a plate with two lemon tarts. It was in this moment, that Jim knew exactly what was coming next.

She picked up the plate, said sorry to the waitress, turned to him, her eyes wide, her brown hair unremarkable, and her life surprisingly boring (he could tell. It was obvious) and she said it as clear as day:

“I’m so sorry about your lemon tarts!”

This had to be a cosmic joke.

“Oh, dear,” he said to her.

Her eyes had been very wide already – now, they became coins. She looked at him with growing realisation, and nothing captured their relationship more than, “I’m so sorry about your lemon tarts!” and “Oh, dear.”

@wherestoriescomefrom I blame this one on you, because your Eurus is just as lovely as your Jim.

Eurus carefully bit back a sigh, leaning her cheek on her fist as she flicked her eyes over the woman sitting across from her. What did her brother dear see in her? It had only taken fifteen seconds to deduce everything worth knowing about her, and she was dull, dull, duuuullll.

“Ugh, I seriously just want to take a cricket bat to their kneecaps.”

Oh. Oh! Well, this was … this was fascinating.

Jim had been right about her. He would be sooo smug. Good thing he was dead.

Molly seemed to realize what she’d said and turned a bright red, stammering an apologetic, half-hearted denial.

“No, no, I quite agree,” Eurus said with a wave of her hand.

Her eyes flickered minutely as she wound back through the conversation she had mostly tuned out. They had been talking about cats (obvious choice, given the sheen of cat hair covering her disgusting jumper), but Molly had somehow devolved into a delightfully vicious rant about … vegans who tried to feed their pet carnivores a vegetarian diet.

Molly shuffled uncertainly, twirling her coffee cup between her hands. “Some people make eugenics look like a good idea,” she mumbled with an uncertain smile and a little flick of her eyes in Eurus’ direction.

Oh, I like you. The thought struck Eurus like a lightening bolt, temporarily seizing up every muscle. The next two flashed through her just as quickly, and with no less of an impact.

I wanna do things to you.

I wanna do things for you.

Well. Now that was interesting. Jim hadn’t warned her about that.

Lovely, lovely Jim. Leaving her with all these delightful surprises. No wonder he’d gone and offed himself.

Eurus’ mouth stretched into the unfamiliar shape of a genuine smile as she sipped her coffee, half-listening while she pondered…

What could she do for Molly Hooper?

#mollyhadthenightwatch 😔
  • *221B*
  • Sherlock & Molly: *sitting opposite each other*
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Molly: ...
  • Sherlock: *reaches for his phone*
  • Molly: *sits up*
  • Sherlock: *rolls his eyes* Relax. I'm ordering takeaway.
  • Molly: *frowns*
  • Sherlock: *smiles* For two.
  • Molly: *folds her arms*
  • Sherlock: *sighs; hands over his phone*
  • Molly: *stuffs it in her bra* I'm ordering *goes to the laptop*
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Molly: *eating chips*
  • Sherlock: *staring at her*
  • Molly: What?
  • Sherlock: You answered the door like that?
  • Molly: *confused* Like what?
  • Sherlock: *shakes his head* Nevermind. I could snap you in half.
  • Molly: *raises her eyebrows* Excuse-
  • Sherlock: *annoyed* If I wanted to, Molly. I could easily overpower you. What makes you think you stand a chance?
  • Molly: *giggles* Try me.
  • Molly: *pinning Sherlock to the ground; smug* Satisfied?
  • Sherlock: *his face pressed into the floor* You're deceptively strong.
  • Molly: *stands up; smiling* And don't you forget it.
  • Sherlock: *jumps up; brushing himself down* By the way, that was arousing.
  • Molly: *gives him the look*
  • Sherlock: *sits down* Sorry.