Last week, I opened up my ask box for prompts for this post, and holy crap, I got waaaaaay more than I thought i would. I was apparently alone in this, as @evil–isnt–born was convinced I would get all 150. I feel she might not be entirely wrong.
Anyway, I’m not accepting anymore of these right now because I still have a bunch to write, but I’m putting them all in one place and will update as I finish more of them. Thanks for playing! I wish I had enough time in the day to write one for everyone.
I had a lot of feels today and found some great music so I don’t actually know how to describe this one-shot that came out from that but I hope you can make sense of my feverish feels and this haphazard storyline. xx Oh yes, rated T for strong language.
Edit: Oops, I also forgot to mention: I dedicate this to tuesdayterrible, who made a post about having Sherlolly for their birthday. This is for you, dear. Happy Birthday! <3
Molly knew she should never have allowed it, but it had happened anyway. It seemed strange that Sherlock’s gradual understanding of affection had created quite the opposite response in her. She loved him, she always would, but things were so different now. What things? she would stop to ask herself. There had been Jim Moriarty, there had been the fall, there had been faking the fall, there had been so much going on it felt right out of a movie. Yet, this had been their reality. Every dramatic twist and turn had been their reality.