otp: we'll start with the riding crop


You loved that woman, Vicomte. What’s more, you still do. Quite desperately. If you had not been so ashamed of it, how could you have treated her so viciously? – Christopher Hampton, Les liaisons dangereuses

introspectivenavelgazer  asked:

Pairing is dealers choice. Your first line is: The ticking of the clock seems sickly, the ticks and tocks arrythmic, much like his heartbeat when he sees her.

Sherlolly Poldark AU, anyone?

The ticking of the clock seems sickly, the ticks and tocks arrhythmic, much like his heartbeat when he sees her.

She was an urchin, with no good family name attached to her and only a dog and the clothes on her back for her possessions; this way he’d found her, with a split lip and scars from a father’s beatings.

“Do you love your father?” he’d asked her among the low noise of a tavern.

“Bible says I must,” said she.

“Do you love me?” he asks her now, in the candlelight of his chambers, his heart hammering as he awaits her answer.

“Even if God told me I shouldn’t,” she whispers, her gentle fingers coming to trail over the scar at his brow as he holds her at her waist, “I still would.”


mizjoely  asked:

Sherlolly, please. First sentence: Things were changing for the better.

Things were changing for the better. 

He had explained, he had played for her the tune he played for his sister. She soothed him over the phone when the newly found memories of fire and flame loomed large in his dreams. Ella, not as bad as his brother presumes her to be, saw it. And with a sad smile, she asked him the one question he had avoided thus far, from all parties: “It was true, wasn’t it?”

He gave a smile of defeat and acceptance, one he had perfected, and replied with the answer he gave himself every moment he saw Molly Hooper’s face: 

“She’ll know – one day.”



I don’t know if the other Sherlollians remember, but about a couple of weeks ago, inspired by the love story of Chris and Bessie as read by Louise Brealey and Benedict Cumberbatch at Letters Live, I was inspired to write my own set of WW2 letters, written from the character POV’s of Sherlock and Molly. The wonderfully talented cumberliciouscollective asked me if she could transcribe them to the page, and I said yes. This is the end result, which I think is absolutely beautiful!

You can find the original post on my Tumblr here.

You can blame Benedict Cumberbatch, Louise Brealey and Letters Live for this.

EDIT: Molly’s replying letter can be found here.

Dear Molly,

The journey towards the front has been arduous, at best. The other men have been singing Vera Lynn’s “We’ll Meet Again” almost non-stop since our company’s departure. John has joined in once or twice with them; he claimed it was to boost morale, but I doubt it. I’ve caught him looking at his picture of Mary once or twice.

I find myself thinking of you.

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“ In many ways, unwise love is the truest love. Anyone can love a thing because. That’s as easy as putting a penny in your pocket. But to love something despite. To know the flaws and love them too. That is rare and pure and perfect. ”
– Patrick Rothfuss, The Wise Man’s Fear.


“Molly… we might want to re-check with the doctor.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I think–I think we might be expecting twins.”

Sherlock AU: With the aid of friends and alcohol-free drinks, Molly celebrates the announcement of her pregnancy. At the same time, Sherlock shows their son Charlie the baby scans–but Charlie makes an accidental discovery of his own.

benedict-cumbercrack-deactivate  asked:

are you still taking prompts? could you do potter!lock where sherlock and molly get detention maybe? thanks :)

With more force than was necessary, Sherlock dumped another stack of pots into the sink, an action that Molly received with a heavy sigh and a even larger roll of her eyes.

You’re the one who caused the explosion.”

“I wouldn’t have caused the explosion if you hadn’t given me the wrong ingredients.”

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Sherlock, struggling with a case, lies on the floor and steeples his fingers under his chin to properly explore his mind palace. About an hour later, he hears giggling and opens his eyes to see that on his left is Molly, somberly impersonating his “thinking” pose, and on his right is his daughter, attempting to do the same but suffering from a total giggling fit because her parents are such idiots.


AU MEME // Star!Molly.

Centuries ago, a King sacrificed the stone that marked his reign out of grief for the wife he had loved so greatly. It flew into the stratosphere and marked itself against the star that always shone the brightest: the Evening Star.
Falling to Earth, the star found herself alone and in the cold. Abandoned by her sisters and alone in this strange new world, she took on the mantle of Molly Hooper and made her way through the life that had been given to her, learning about the mortal world she had only ever admired from afar.
Finally, years later, she found someone. Someone as bright and as observant and as intelligent as her. Through him, she learned the joy and pain of unrequited love.
Yet Sherlock Holmes was far more observant than the star gave him credit. He knew she had a secret, and he became determined to find out what it was. He investigated her–pursued her–until finally, out of her love for him, she confessed her fall to Earth. She believed he would spurn her; be frightened by her.
He defied every expectation. For instead of running, he stayed. He stayed to see the world through the eyes of a star.

anonymous asked:

How about this for a prompt. Sherlock gets drafted into the war, just before he leaves he realises he likes Molly. He tells her they'll go out when he comes back and they share one kiss before he leaves. He comes back some months later, physically disfigured, and ignores Molly because he thinks she deserves someone whole. (A bit Remus/Tonks-y) :)

Set during WW2. As is my way, I changed the prompt a little bit, and changed it so that they’re married before he goes off to war. I hope you don’t mind Nonny.

The guard’s whistle echoes around the train station, and Sherlock finds his chest quite genuinely hurts. Strange, the side effects of love; of sentiment. Strange, but also rather, well, inevitable. He has known this woman for two years, and for all that time, she has been here, by his side through everything, as a friend, a confidant and now, most recently, a wife.

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Another Swap!lock piece, though this one should be considered as separate from my previous Swap!lock story. This one is my take on the pool scene from “The Great Game” (because I apparently have a need to rewrite all my favourite scenes with Molly as the consulting detective instead of Sherlock. Blame it on my eternal love for her).

When she entered, the pool was quiet. Unnervingly quiet, but Molly Hooper was not one to give away her feelings easily. Slowly, she stepped forward with her hands behind her back, the missile plans in one hand and a gun in the other. She gazed around, but saw nothing out of the ordinary; a fact which only served to make her all the more alert. There was always something.

“I’ve bought you a little ‘getting to know you’ present,” she said clearly as she held up the missile plans. It pleased her to note that she hadn’t shown any trace of fear in her voice.

Yet nothing happened. There was just silence.

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Sherlock staring at the wallpaper for hours on end.

Sherlock tracing the shapes of the wallpaper pattern with his fingertips.

John asking what the hell Sherlock is doing.

Sherlock explaining that he’s channeling his Man Pain for Molly through the wallpaper.

John wondering what planet his friend’s landed on.

Sherlock claiming he must say nothing because of Man Pain.

John telling Sherlock he’s an idiot.

Mary forcibly dragging Sherlock to St. Bart’s by the ear.

Molly greeting them in surprise.

Mary locking Sherlock and Molly in the lab.

Sherlock rattling off deductions to Molly in a rambling attempt to tell Molly how he feels.

Sherlock comparing Molly to the wallpaper as he rambles.

Molly raising an eyebrow.

Sherlock apologising.

Molly raising another eyebrow.

Sherlock saying he didn’t mean it.

Molly giggling.

Sherlock frowning, confused.

Molly saying she loves him too.

Sherlock grinning.

Molly doing what she’s always wanted to do and kissing him.

Sherlock taking Molly back to 221b.

Molly suffering a fit of giggles at seeing the wallpaper.

Sherlock blushing beetroot, before rolling his eyes and dragging Molly to the bedroom.

Sherlock tracing the shape of Molly with his fingertips.

Molly being far more responsive than any wallpaper.

Sherlock saying “sorry” over and over again.

Molly telling him to shut up and kiss her.


Sherlock AU: After making the quite large mistake of taking their newborn daughter to a rather violent and bloody crime scene, Sherlock tries to make amends. Molly accepts his frankly awful apology, but that doesn’t mean she’s quite forgiven him yet.

The Word That’s a Little Like Love; a ‘The Lake House’ AU.

Victor says you aren’t real; that I should forget you, focus on other things. But you are here. I know you are. In reality, you are nothing more than paper folded into an envelope with words scrawled onto paper. But – but… We sit in the same chair. We lie in the same bed. We sit at the same kitchen table. You even stare out of the same windows as me, at the same street, the same skyline. (I imagine they’ll build a range of skyscrapers in the next two years; ever more clutter.) We are sharing this space, Molly. And I’m always behind. Ten steps, two years behind. It’s… it’s maddening.

In 2008, Sherlock Holmes has recently been released from the pit that is rehab, having been stuffed away there after his graduation. His brother, ever the protector, has acquired for him a new flat in London at the address of 221b Baker Street. He discovers a note left by what seems to be the previous owner, politely requesting that all letters be forwarded to her new address in another part of London. They sign off with “Thanks, from Molly Hooper”. In the note, Miss Hooper playfully leaves a detail about the fact she was not the one to burn a hole in the living room carpet. Sherlock is puzzled, as the living room carpet is pristine. He is further puzzled when only a few days later, after he’s finished putting out the flame caused by his dropping a rather dangerous chemical substance onto the floor during an experiment, that the mentioned burn has now appeared – and in the exact spot mentioned by Miss Hooper.

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