emilierants

“Daydreaming.”

“About what?”

“To a time and place where people realize that Sherlock’s the fragile one. Not Molly. Who needs to cancel themselves from feelings if they didn’t have too many? I want people to acknowledge that when shit went down with Moriarty Sherlock went to her for help, because truthfully he wasn’t strong enough. It doesn’t need to be romantic. I just want them to acknowledge her part in it, in his life as a friend.”

“You know that’s never gonna happen.”

Because Steven said something, and it got me thinking. 

“Oh Molly’s coming round,” Sherlock said all of a sudden, causing him to look up from entertaining his daughter Rosie who was sat on his lap. The man wasn’t even looking in John’s general direction, he just staring blankly at of the doorway, as if he was preparing himself. 

John pursed his lips, trying not to think too hard over the fact that he and Sherlock hadn’t really talked about what happened during that phone call he’d been forced to be present at. He’d rather have left when it took place, it felt way too personal for his taste, besides, truth be told - -  painful. Of all the people who didn’t deserve to be hurt, it was Molly Hooper, who’d been extremely helpful when John had needed someone (much more helpful than he’d deserved). But who, he also, hadn’t heard from in a while, as she’d been making excuses every time he’d wanted to have a chat. 

Keep reading

Infinite Sundays 37/100

Summary: "Did you know that Sherlock and Molly lived together?“ said John, grin of disbelief still in place, face turning from Mike to her rapidly. "Yeah?” said Mike without missing a beat. Suddenly Sherlock and Molly sharing a flat during uni isn’t a secret anymore.

Status: WIP

Rated: Explicit

On AO3 or FFnet

vimeo

Final film at film school. “The Silent Detective” is a film noir who-dun-it. Directed and written by me.

As a review “update soon” and “please write soon” gives me nothing. Pro tip don’t write that as review - it discourages. I don’t mind it with other words, because then it feels like encouragement.

But on its own; it tells me nothing. It makes me insert own words in the review “this chapter sucked. Update soon”

It’s so impersonal. Robotic. Like one of those tabs that open up at the right corner in your computer telling you to update. I gotta admit I tend to ignore that one until necessary.

The bed creaked and her eyes fluttered against the darkness of her bedroom. He’d slipped on top of the duvet, she could feel the weight and warmth of him to her left. “Sherlock?” she whispered, her voice too croaky to sound clear, as her cold hadn’t quit yet. 

“Mhm,” he replied, not shifting. He was probably lying on his back, hands folded on his stomach, looking picture perfect with every curl in place by his forehead. 

“… Why are you still here?”

He snorted. 

“I thought you’d left,” she continued when he didn’t counter with any smart comment in return. 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

When are you going to finish 'Mind Over Matter'? I can't wait :P

Haha I don’t know. I’m 3000+ on chapter three, and I’m hardly close to the finish line. Technically this should be a 4-parter, but I’m being tough on myself and staying with the original idea of 3 parts. However, it’s getting heavy on something I didn’t intend it to get heavy with. Hopefully I won’t need to scrap what I’ve written so far. Hopefully!

It’s hard to tell at the mo. 

I just want to say thank you to everyone who still leave encouraging messages whether it’s in my inbox or on one of my fics. Thank you for that. Because sometimes I feel like I’ve abandoned you all, which isn’t my intent. But I can honestly say I hit a “wall”. Much worse than a regular writer’s block, haha, but I’m gonna try to write a little every day. 

And see where that takes me. <3 

Thanks. 

bkst-tutu1b  asked:

Since you gave all clear for the questions-how much does it take to get you drunk? A glass? A bottle? Or a barrel??

I’m a light weight. Which is always a shocker considering that I’m the tallest of my friends besides the largest. You’d think I could handle my drink. I used to. I got drunk from one glass of wine and two beers yesterday. Then again, I hadn’t eaten in a while. Except a bag of crisps because I was going to a wedding dinner thing (also I’m excellent with the words). But my limit is usually 6 beers or half a bottle of vodka.

anonymous asked:

Hi, are you still taking prompts? Hope you don't mind me asking for something smutty (for science, of course...lol). You can decide what the situation will be as long as Sherlock ends up behind Molly, pleasing her in a very, very sexual manner. Lots of teasing and long foreplay. Oh! And preferably, a wall is involved. Thanks!

A/N: This is around the 20’s-30’s - it’s priest!lock (yup) - minor summary for those who need those (prior to this drabble of course). A new young priest has come to the neighborhood and Mrs Molly Brook feels she can confess to him of the multiple of sins her cruel husband has forced upon her, harming her mentally and physically. The only barrier that keeps her away from deaths door is her sister Mary, but also this new priest who believes the violence befallen to her is not something she deserves, and she falls for him, all of it throwing more chaos into her life.

Undeniably NSFW under cut. 

Arabesque, No. 1 in E Major

Had he read the letter? Oh, how she wondered. She’d been pacing through the garden; unable to hear the bright chirps of the birds from the apple trees or see the way the flowers were blooming, their blossoms rustling against the gentle wind. No, all of her thoughts were fixed upon a man who she did not know if wanted her or not. I know it is forbidden and it is not because of that, that I want you. I want you because without you I cannot breathe. Her hand found the cross hanging around her neck, her fingers clenching itself around it, wanting it to leave an imprint on her skin, to remind her that it was not good or wholesome what she wanted. Maybe it was because she’d never been married; maybe it was because she knew he could never marry because of his work, maybe – and then she felt a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

 

Keep reading