Molly and Shaun hear the old rusty hinges to the door of their Homestead squeak open. They’re not used to visitors this time of day. Although in wartime, no one stands on ceremony anymore. More often than not, it’s a stray dog that’s made its way inside. Or a woman from the Red Cross wanting a donation for our boys still in the fight. She stands, and enters the hall expecting to see a group of hatted ladies, shaker tins in hand, or a mutt wanting a feed. Instead, it’s Private Robert Joseph MacCready. The former soldier of the 29th Gunner Infantry division, returned from duty, now stands on her doorstep. Her hand goes to her mouth to stifle her surprise. He gives her a wide smile and his eyes blaze bluer than a south pacific lagoon.
“Excuse me Ma'am.” His voice is a quiet mischievous drawl. “But I think I left half of my heart here.”
I commissioned the amazing juleselyot for an idea I had for a Fallout 4/1940′s war time AU and Julie delivered this brief with amazing ease. If you want to commission - I thoroughly recommend this amazing artist! You can find all you need here!
The colours, the light and composition ~ perfect for my perfect lovelies Molly and Mac. Thankyou Julie this is amazing and I love it so much!
are we talking about secretly bad guy molly cause guess what theory i fucking love
that’s right i said it. secretly bad guy molly.
for instance a molly who goes around using her ability to blend in and go unnoticed, perhaps in a disguise of some kind, to kill dudes who have wronged her. they put so many of the pieces to secretly bad guy molly into the show (introducing jim to sherlock, stabbing her fiancee with a fork, just ~happens~ to have a body that looks like sherlock hanging around, “favorite room” is a morgue, i’m just sayin) and then they just
put molly in the same dress they later put moriarty in i’m JSUT SAYING
I’m suddenly obsessed with dressing Molly… Picture it: a little silver clutch, a tiny tasteful fascinator and kitten heels. Garden party/fake relationship… This made me think of you @writingwife-83
Sherlock stood, frozen, completely at a loss for words. When he’d explained that he needed her as his plus one for the party, he never expected Molly to show up looking like… Well, she always looked lovely…but…but…
“Sherlock? Are you okay?” she asked, pulling him out of his Molly induced stupor.
“You look beautiful,” the words came out in a breathy whisper. All right, perhaps not completely out of the stupor just yet.
She smiled, a delicious blush spreading across her cheeks and down her neck. “Beautiful? Sherlock, are you sure you’re okay?”
“Smashing!” he replied as he held out his arm. “All this chit-chat will make us late and I have cousins to make jealous.”
(why can’t Sherlock need to impress someone every once in a while? ; )
SUMMARY: You’re Molly’s best friend and have finally helped her get over Sherlock and her douchebag ex and finally found her a nice guy. Tonight he’s going to propose so you help Molly get ready then send her off for her big night. But when you bump into someone strangely familiar you decided to just go for it. It is only dinner!
A/N: Guys, I’mm sorry this sis so shit I’m so stressed and busy with college work I haven’t had time to write anything properly any anything I have started is getting done very slowly. So I will post those eventually, for now, you’ll have to deal with this. SORRY
Molly held up the dress she had picked out and grinned as she checked herself out in the mirror. I was so happy that this match had actually worked. Molly finally had a boyfriend and after tonight a possible fiancée not that she knew about that, though.
I’d been friends with Molly since university. We shared a flat during the first year and became firm friends since. She was shy and quiet while I was generally quite loud and outgoing, not to say I didn’t have my quiet moments I just was better at speaking to people I didn’t know. I’d set Molly and James up, had Sherlock double-check my assumptions on him to see if he wasn’t a complete pyscho like the rest of Molly’s choices had been in the past and the rest, as they say, is history.
James had called me yesterday asking whether I thought it was a good time to propose and of course I agreed. The pair were practically inseparable, so loved up it was almost sickening. But I was happy. My best friend had got her happy ending. And as much as she protested I did not need my own to be happy.
I had an amazing job, an amazing flat and an amazing set of friends and a dog named Richard. I didn’t need anyone else.
Molly got dressed and we chatted while she got ready. She did her hair fairly plainly and her make-up was a slight glammed up look of her usual. She looked gorgeous.
I walked her to the restaurant that she was meeting James, cursing when I realised how far it actually was and how bad my shoes were at long distances. Either way, it gave me time to give Molly her ‘pre-date pep talk’ not that she really needed it anymore, she practically lived with the guy nowadays but it had become a bit of a tradition between us. She gave the same speech to me before any date I went on too so it was equal.
I dropped her off and waved, pretending to act like a proud mother crying as she sent her children off to school for the first time. This made Molly laugh and I knew everything was going to be okay. My Molly was growing up!
I began walking back, deciding to go the different way home through Central London, my favourite part of the city. It took a lot longer and I really should take a taxi but it was such a nice evening and I loved walking beside the Thames at this time of day. The water always looked so pretty, reflecting the burning colours in the sky, much nicer than the murky grey visible during the day.
I strolled along, humming a song I’d heard on the radio earlier having a really nice time when suddenly someone crashed into me. They knocked me back so I fell onto the pavement, tripping on my feet.
“Oh, I am so sorry,” They apologised, helping me up.
“Oh crap I’m sorry,” I apologised at the same time, as I bent down to pick up the man’s umbrella. A strange thing to be calling round in the middle of summer but whatever.
“It’s no problem, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” The man shrugged.
“No, you weren’t really,” I laughed, “I’m sorry but I feel like we’ve met before. Do you know Sherlock Holmes?”
“Sherlock? Yes… who are you?”
“Y/n. Y/n l/n. I used to live upstairs from him a while ago. I swear I saw you there before,”
“You’re the girl with the assassin for a brother,”
“Yep!” I laughed, trying to hide my embarrassment. “Unfortunately so,”
“Well, Y/n. You were right in thinking we’d met before,” The man nodded with a smirk planted on his lips. “Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock’s brother,”
I was taken back for a moment. This was Mycroft? The big, bad, drug searching, the British government, eating all the cakes Mycroft. Sherlock had certainly painted a seriously warped picture of his brother for me. The man that stood before me now was nothing like how I’d imagined. Though, to be fair I had imagined someone that looked like the fat controller mixed with Sheldon from The Bing Bang Theory.
The real Mycroft was very well dressed, obviously intelligent and had an air of high class and mystery about him. If I didn’t know any better I would have just taken him for some stick up the ass bank CEO.
“You’re Mycroft?” I asked, amazed and in disbelief. Mycroft laughed and seemed surprised that I was so amazed.
“Yes, that’s my name,”
“I’m sorry, it’s just Sherlock has told me a lot about you and well-“
“He is a drama queen,” Mycroft rolled his eyes, I laughed in agreement.
“Well, how about you tell me about yourself over dinner tonight,” I sudden flurry of confidence suddenly coming from nowhere, “Seeing as Sherlock has over dramatised everything about you that I can visibly see,”
“Sure,” Mycroft shrugged, “I have nothing else to do tonight I suppose,”
“You had dinner with my brother!”
“Yes, I’ve had dinner with your brother lots of times now, Sherlock. Is it really that bad that someone might be interested in him?”