miss hooper


If I could be anything in the world I would want to be a teardrop because I would be born in your eyes, live on your cheeks, and die on your lips. 

I’m tagging the lovely @likingthistoomuch cause she encouraged me to start making Sherlolly edits and gifs, and ignore what haters think about them. Cause they’re not for the haters. They’re for myself and for people who like them.

CUMBERFACT4: “He’s got a stepsister, Tracy Peacock. When they were child, Tracy accidentally leave Benedict outside under the snow and he was about to die. Luckily she remembered about him in time and brought little Benedict, that was perfectly quiet, back in the house.”

Spoilers the lying detective: Molly's the next big clue!

Gosh I think Molly going to play a big role!
Faith was saying “Anyone” and it triggered one of his memories of Molly saying about John and she said “Anyone”
Remember she gave him a letter?!
I think it was the letter from Faith/Euros!!!! The MISS ME letter!!!
I don’t know if she’s part of the plan? Blackmailed? I don’t know cause I’m freaking out!
I mean it was a little bit odd in the scene where they just came out of the ambulance and Sherlock was like “you look stressed..” and she said yah you’re dying etc..
But her face looks like there’s more going on.. There’s something else bothering her and she’s terrified.
And with the trailer scene of her on the phone doesn’t ease my worries!!

BBC Sherlock

If The Final Problem is indeed the series finale (as it feels like), i just want to say thank you. Thank you to Benedict, Martin, Steven and Mark for bringing Sherlock Holmes and John Watson to life. It may have not been perfect but it was an undeniably amazing series that has changed my life. I will always be part of the Sherlock fandom and will continue loving our Baker Street boys. Hopefully this is not the end!


Here me out!! 

There was one thing that was bothering me about TLD, more than anything else! and that was how Euros met Sherlock initially, posed as Faith. No-one saw Faith/Euros in Sherlock’s flat; not Billy or Mrs Hudson and then Mycroft didn’t see anyone with Sherlock when he left his flat (at first I thought that he may have met her earlier than we saw and that Sherlock was just hallucinating it over and over again but then I remember that Mycroft is monitoring Sherlock’s flat and that it was the first Sherlock had left in ‘weeks’. Mycroft also didn’t note anyone new entering/leaving the flat, which is unusual since Mycroft is keeping an eye on what his brother is doing)

So I was left wondering how Sherlock got hold of that piece of paper in the first place, if it wasn’t from anyone who has visited the flat… 

Then I realised that there was one other note/bit of paper that we haven’t seen resolved… and that is “John’s” note from the end of T6T, the one that Molly gave him. This seemed a bit crazy until I remembered the trailer, where it looks like she is being threatened/blackmailed or something over the phone. And remember during TRF, Molly was the one person that Moriarty overlooked… 

I am proposing that Euros intercepted Molly at some point during T6T, and gave her the note to give to Sherlock, under duress. Throw in the mind altering, memory bending drugs that were introduced in the episode… the whole meeting could have been a hallucination! This also ties in with the fact that Sherlock was completely oblivious that it was the same person when he met her as John’s therapist!!

Find Tags below the cut! I apologise in advance for tagging so many people, but am excited to see what people think, I’m not sure if this idea is already out there! If so, let me know!!

Keep reading

Merry Christmas,
I miss you.

I love Christmas. I do.
I love the lights and the laughing,
giving out presents.
I love how the world disconnects
into families,
separate but somehow all together.
I love the crisp, cold mornings
and the long, slow evenings.

I love Christmas. I do.
But I miss you.
So many people, so much everything.
Almost enough that I can forget
the obvious, gaping hole. Almost.

I love Christmas. I do.
But I’m out in the park, my breath blowing out in front of me
and all I can think about is how much I miss you,
how I wish I could dial your number
and just hear your voice,
tell you about my Christmas
and ask about yours.
But I can’t.
Not anymore.

Merry Christmas,
I miss you.

—  Lauren Alex Hooper, Merry Christmas, I Miss You
Petticoat Tails

By all accounts, Mr. Sherlock Holmes was that wholly scandalous thing… a bohemian. He paid little attention to the rules of polite society, he had a total disregard for propriety, and he kept some of the most salacious of acquaintances. Namely, one Miss Adler. In the eyes of society he was just one misstep away from a scandal. This of course didn’t stop them from coming to him for help, but it did make for juicy gossip.

Sherlock knew all of this, finding it more amusing than anything. He wondered what they would think about his current whereabouts, lounging on the bed of a one Miss Molly Hooper. The daughter of Dr. Stephen Hooper, one of St. Bartholomew’s finest surgeons, she was also fodder for gossip among the ladies of London.

Miss Hooper had taken an interest in her father’s work from a very young age, and Dr. Hooper could deny her nothing. He had taught her all that he knew, paid for private tutors, and supplied her with the very best instruments. Sadly, no one had any use for a woman doctor. That was until Sherlock.

It had been at a crime scene some years before, one that Miss Hooper had mistakenly wandered into. He had been annoyed, not at her, but at the officers that tried to cover the body from the view of a lady. Miss Hooper had simply evaded their efforts and correctly deduced the means of death. He had been… not taken per se… but interested from that moment on. He had pursued her professionally, sending for her when he had need of her expertise. Even after he met Dr. Watson.

In the years since he had met her they had become friends. Her home had become a sort of refuge from the world. He couldn’t recall how many times he had snuck into her rooms while she was away, allowing himself to be comforted by the things in the room. Lately though he had found himself seeking out his refuge while she remained.

Tonight was one of those nights. Miss Hooper sat straight backed at her little writing desk, studiously ignoring him. There had been a dance earlier in the evening, and she had yet to forgive him for his behavior. True, he probably should not have called out her intended the way he had, but the man was truly a bore. He had never understood why she had agreed to the marriage in the first place.

“You should be thanking me, my Dear. He would not have suited you.” He rolled his eyes when she continued to ignore him.

Miss Hooper flipped another page in her book, a little too harshly.

“I suppose you would have been happy being married to that bit of dried toast? You would have been content in your quiet little marriage, with your quiet little husband. That you would have lived happily fetching his slippers and bearing his six children, spending your nights sitting in front of the fire talking of nothing but the weather….”

“That is enough!” Molly stood from her desk and slammed the book down. She fought the tears that threatened to fall. This was not how the night was supposed to go. She laughed to herself, this was not how her life was supposed to go.

“I have never been more embarrassed in my life, Mr. Holmes! You humiliated me in front of all our friends!” She turned her back on him, unwilling to allow him to see the hint of tears at the corners of her eyes.

“Those people were hardly your friends, every single one of them would sell you out at a moment’s notice.” Sherlock shook his head, to think she actually cared about what those people thought. “And, I think you will find that I humiliated Mr. Williamson, and not you.”

Molly grit her teeth, clenched her fists, and turned back around.

“Considering he is my intended, yes, Mr. Holmes, you did indeed humiliate me.”

“Surely you don’t actually plan on going ahead with the wedding?” Sherlock sat up straight, a sudden knot pulling tight in his chest. Mr. Williamson was not a fan of his. In fact the two of them had already had a talk, and it was made quite obvious that Sherlock’s presence in Miss Hooper’s life would not be welcome after the wedding. This was something that was not to be tolerated.

“Of course I do. It may take some talking on both mine and my Father’s part, but I am sure that Thomas will come around.” Molly smoothed down her skirts and headed for the changing screen. Her corset had been digging into her side for the past two hours, but Mr. Holmes’ presence had prevented her from doing anything about it. The thing had become too much of an annoyance though. It wasn’t as though Mr. Holmes and never seen her in her unmentionables before. The man just didn’t seem bothered by it.

“Thomas, what a perfectly boring name.” Sherlock kept his eyes on Miss Hooper as she slipped behind the screen. A thought flitted through his mind, one that made his breath catch. It wasn’t a new thought, but never before had he felt the desire to act upon it.

“A perfectly normal name, quite unlike Sherlock…” Molly gasped when she felt two large hands pressing tightly on either side of her waist. “Mr. Holmes….”

“Don’t… don’t do that.” Sherlock flexed his fingers against her sides and pulled her into his chest. “You never call me Sherlock. I think I would quite like it if you did.”

Molly swallowed hard. She would be lying if she said that this wasn’t something she had dreamed about. She had fallen for the man years ago, but she knew that he would never see her that way. He had no interest in romantic entanglements as he put it. So when Thomas came around, she accepted his courtship. She loved the man, but she was quickly realizing that he was greatly overshadowed by what she felt for the man at her back.

“I’m getting married in a month.” Molly tried to keep her shivering out of her voice, but the pressure at her sides made it clear that she failed.

“No, you won’t.” Sherlock pressed his nose into her hair, his hands slipping from her sides and over her belly. He didn’t still until his hands rested low. “You could never give up this life, and that is just what he wants you to do. He wants you to be his sweet little, dutiful wife. Is that what you want? If it is, I will leave now and you will never have to see me again.”

“What is this, Mr…. Sherlock. Are you asking me to choose between the two of you?” Molly closed her eyes as she felt Sherlock lean down and press his lips to her ear.

“You know he will do the same.” Sherlock felt himself shudder. So long he had held himself in, kept himself from losing control. Something told him to continue would mean the loss of the woman in his arms. He would have to let go of himself, for both of their sakes.

“Sherlock, I….” Her lungs seized up as the man pressed the softest of kisses along her neck. He moved from the edge of her jaw and down to her shoulder, his lips adding the slightest bit more pressure there.

He took a step back, halting her movements when she tried to turn around.

“Don’t move.” His heart lightened when she nodded and stayed facing away from him.

He lightly pressed his hands to the sides of her neck, smoothing them down her shoulders and bringing them to the back of her dress. Slowly he undid each hook and tie, peeling both bodice and skirt from her. Without a word Molly stepped out of the skirt, but remained turned away. His hands slipped around front, his long fingers tracing the bone buttons holding her corset cover together.

Molly’s heart raced in her chest, she should pull away from him. She should cover herself and demand he leave at once. Instead she brought her hands up to his and rested them along the backs of his hands as he slowly undid the cover. He was careful, meticulous, as he pushed each button through. His fingers skimmed along the top swell of her breasts, dipping into her shift to tease her. The buttons and ties freed, the cover was tossed down with her dress.

Sherlock smiled when he noticed the petticoat she had worn. It was the pale yellow one with the hand tatted lace. It had been a favorite of his since he had seen her in it. He always found his attention drawn to her when it would peek out from the bottom of her skirts. He carefully untied the petticoat and allowed it to fall. Just as before she stepped from it without a word.

He had undressed a woman before, but his experience with Miss Adler was different than with Molly. Miss Adler had spent the whole time directing him on what to do, making orders as though he had been her servant. It had been a wonderful evening, but something in it had been lacking. Something he finally understood.

He ran his finger up the ties of the corset, playfully plucking at them and earning a soft chuckle from her. His fingers were deft at undoing the knot and pulling the ties loose. As he had with the cover, he reached around the front and unhooked the busk. Molly let out a heavy breath when the offending garment was tossed aside. He took a moment to look at the woman standing so patiently in front of him. She was a tiny thing without the bulk of her clothing, he felt that one false move could snap her in two.

He lowered himself to the ground, his hands immediately undoing the ties to the smaller petticoat and tossing the garment aside. When the offending thing was gone he slipped his hands inside the slit of her drawers, running his fingers up under the shift and along her thighs. He continued his ministrations until he could feel her trembling, then with a flick he had the drawers around her ankles. He grasped a hold of the shift, and pulled upwards as he stood. By the time he was straight Molly stood in nothing but her stockings, garters, and shoes.

Sherlock didn’t speak as he moved to stand in front of her. He kept his hands in contact with her skin the entire time, moving them from her back to her shoulders, up her neck until he cradled her face. He lowered his head to bring his lips to hers. He didn’t kiss her, simply remained hovering there as she finally spoke.

“Your choice, Molly?” He wouldn’t admit that he was nervous. There was a good chance that she would smack him and tear herself away. He watched her eyes, so wide in the darkness of the room.

“Do you even need to ask?” She lifted a hand to rest against his chest. Her heart skipped at the sight of his smile, it stopped altogether when he fell to his knees. His arms went around to hold her close, his lips pressed tightly against her stomach in an intimate kiss.

There would be scandal, there would be talk. Her father would have to talk to Thomas, and hopefully there would be no scene there. Still, in the end she knew that it would be worth it. She slipped her hands into his perfectly slicked hair and ruffled it. He grumbled a bit at the action, but he would just have to get used to it because she figured she would be doing it a lot from now on.


Author’s Note: Probably should have worked on Language of Flowers, but after a conversation with Idris about my preference of writing sensual scenes instead of smut, and my headcanon that Sherlock loves to watch and help Molly undress, well I had to write this.

Also, I might be a bit stuck on Victorian!Lock at the moment.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.