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12:11am August 1, 2014
ollyhooper asked: Sherlolly jealous sherlock

Molly Hooper looked, in a word, gorgeous. No, that wasn’t the right word…breathtaking? Sexy? Amazing? Drop dead beautiful? His lexicon was not expansive enough for how taken he was with her tonight. He didn’t like that anyone else could see her in this state of perfection, it wasn’t fair he had to share her with her tinkling laughter and her pretty smile and stupid, stupid police galas that he had to go to because of stupid Lestrade.

John was busy trying to explain to him what the purpose of the event was and was talking about some guy named Greg and he expected he should know who Greg was but it escaped him as she brought the cherry from her drink and plucked the round fruit onto her tongue with her teeth, the stem leaving what he used to think was her too small mouth. He was so blind then.

That was when some officer, young, stupid and clearly attractive came up to Molly, to his Molly. He felt an immediate predatory response to the man and then it wasn’t just a man, it was several, all wondering if they could get her anything, if she wanted company. She was blushing a ridiculous shade of red while Sherlock fumed in his seat, now completely and blatantly ignoring John. He stalked off, moving to her and pushing the men out of the way before kissing her deeply, thoroughly. His tongue slowly excavated every tiny section of her gorgeous mouth and he felt a victory in the way she melted against him. “Mine.”

11:57pm July 31, 2014
Anonymous asked: 3. If you're in the mood for fluff or something more romantic, a proposal. I would love to see what you do with that. I could probably come up with more, lol.

They had been rolling around in bed, taking turns straddling each other and giving new marks and new memories in their aching flesh. He would be leaving soon, going back to John after two years of taking out Moriarty’s network. She knew he needed to go and he knew as well, they could never just stay like this, it was their lives on pause. But oh what a wonderful pause, the way their flesh made music against each other, their minds working together to be one of the more lovely and more dangerous teams that even a network like Moriarty’s had ever come up against. They had won, they were celebrating their victory with their small battles here and now.

They weren’t really speaking except the occasional comment or instruction, hisses and moans instead filled the room they had been sharing for the time being. He hadn’t thought it through, in fact he was quite certain there were many flaws to the idea that slipped between his lips as she pinned him down, kissing his mouth with a force that made him wonder how she had been so soft beneath him just a minute ago. “Marry me.” The words rang through the air between them, reverberating off her lips and soaking into the bruises and marks on her chest. They didn’t even come out as a question, barely a request, more of a statement of what they should do. 

He knew that it would be unconventional, that he would be living in London, the one place she couldn’t go and yet…the words were honest and he meant them. It would be a terrible separation, in fact, there was no guarantee he’d ever see her again when he returned. She would disappear and he would return to the spotlight and to the Work. The Woman seemed to search his eyes for an eternity before humming a simple, “Of course.” He didn’t seem to care about the legality of it, that seemed contract enough for him, perhaps they would sign a document, perhaps they would lay here in bed for the rest of their time together but it didn’t matter. He smirked slightly before hooking his arm around her waist and flipping her, letting her land with a thud as their game continued.

11:31pm July 31, 2014
bbcbaker asked: MYCROFT AND CAKE.

The first cake Mycroft really remembers was when he was from his six birthday party. No one showed up to the affair and so the cook told him he would get to keep the entire cake to himself. He didn’t know that was allowed, it was beautiful really, frosting that melted on your tongue and a cake that wasn’t too dry but would crumble in your mouth. It was safe to say young Mycroft had fallen in love and it was a love affair to rival the classics.

***

His affair with cake seemed to last through any attempt at a relationship he had ever had, in fact, cake was sometimes his most lovely companion. Sherlock would never resist the urge to mock him for his affections, “You know, I think perhaps cake and you are your longest relationship, excluding me of course but then, I’ve tried to extricate myself, you just keep appearing. So cake it is, your longest and most affectionate relationship.” Sherlock smirked as he walked away from his brother who glared and took another bite of the confectionery delight.

***

He would have bouts where he would attempt to give up his fated love, diets and health scares and wanting to lose the bit of pudge that forced him to sit just a little too far from his desk. But those bouts never lasted long, he could never quite stay away.

And when Sherlock returned from the grave, having been abused and tortured in Serbia for several months, Mycroft only saw fit to serve one thing, one lone dish, his own favourite but he was sure Sherlock wouldn’t object too much. “Still going strong then?” Mycroft just hummed happily from behind the fork.

((That was genuinely way too much fun. Hope you like it my darling! Send more prompts!))

5:57pm July 31, 2014

Now taking prompts! Any pairing! Any topic! Please, I’m bored love me!

1:41am July 25, 2014

frozen-delight-blog:

marybegone:

mamalaz:

BBC Sherlock in the original Victorian era

wow!

Brilliant!

11:38pm June 17, 2014
  • You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
  • You both like adlock, shirene, and sherene.
  • Stranger: ((Professor!Sherlock, Student!Irene)) It had been one night, about one year ago. Kate had dragged Irene out to go to the New Year’s Eve party at a club down town. A drink was pushed into her hand. And then she had met Sherlock, all wit and sarcasm and a magnificent brain to keep up with her own that reeled Irene in like a moth to a flame. Sherlock had her hook, line and sinker, and it was almost embarrassing how badly she wanted it. But luckily it seemed like Sherlock was in the same position. One thing led to another, and they kissed as the clock struck midnight. And then…They had done a bit more than kiss. And then Irene woke the next morning with the headache to end all headaches and had promptly forgotten about the one night stand…Until now. Because as she walked into class that morning, she immediately recognized the new professor at the front of the room. Sherlock Holmes.
  • You: Sherlock had seen her on his roster, he had felt his heart leap out of his chest and up into his throat before he had tutted himself, muttered "Ridiculous," and promptly shut off that memory. He would teach the class, he wouldn't look at her and he would pretend as though nothing at all had happened. He hummed as his class filed in, "Yes, yes, take a seat, wouldn't want your precious class time to be wasted, I'm sure your minds will need all the exposure to the material they can manage," he said, crossing his arms impatiently and handing a stack of papers to the nearest student. "I trust you all had a good summer and if you didn't to be frank I do not care, does anyone have any questions before we begin?"
  • Stranger: Irene took her usual seat at the very front of the class next to Kate, whose eyes were wide and flicking back and forth between Sherlock and Irene. He wasn't going to acknowledge it, fine by her. She just leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms in front of her, staring at Sherlock pointedly, trying to almost will him to meet her gaze. When he asked if there were any questions, the class muttered 'no' almost in unison, except Irene, who raised her hand. "I have one, sir. Did you have a nice New Year's Eve?" she asked with a smirk, knowing the rest of the class would frown in confusion, since it was more than nine months ago, but Sherlock would understand.
  • You: He looked at her, giving her a glare, one that meant she was about to start a dangerous war and one that reminded her that he was a force to be reckoned with. "It was perfectly adequate and let me suggest that the rest of the class learn from this young woman that questions ought to be related to class material," he said before turning and flipping on his slides, "If that's all?" he said, looking back to her, ignoring that he felt a pang of regret for leaving so early that morning.
  • Stranger: Irene blushed at being described as merely 'adequate' and she returned his glare but kept her mouth shut, before turning her attention to the slides he had put up, and she tried her very best not to look at him for the rest of the lesson. It was his bloody fault they were in this mess. He shouldn't have left so early. She woke up alone and she felt a hot flash of embarrassment at being left that way. He could have stayed five minutes to tell her he didn't want a relationship, but no, he just left.
  • You: He taught uninterrupted and ignored the stupid and almost blankly confused faces starring back at him at the end of class, "I expect once you do the assigned reading tonight you will all have a dawning understanding of the topic, if you do not, my TA Watson will be available for office hours most of the week. I suggest you take him up on it, I do not tolerate excuses. You are all dismissed," he said.
  • Stranger: Irene followed the lesson perfectly clearly, without any problems, unlike the rest of the class, who seemed to be mumbling about not understanding and how difficult it was. She packed up slowly, waiting until every other student had filed out of the classroom and it was just her and Sherlock alone together. "Your technique could use some work - in terms of teaching. Brushing up on manners wouldn't hurt either," she said dryly as she leaned against her desk.
  • You: "I am here to educate the youth of this country to support my life style, there isn't much money in free consulting. I am not here to be the most adored," he said, crossing his arms over his chest, "You knew better than to ask that question," he said, looking at her accusingly.
  • Stranger: "Yes, but you are here to educate them, not ramble at them aimlessly and expect them to understand your convoluted train of thought," Irene shot back, smirking slightly at the stung look on his face. "I had to ask it. Seemed like you'd forgotten who I am, and we can't have that, can we, Mr Holmes?"
  • You: "I hadn't forgotten, I don't forget, Miss Adler," he said, more than a bit defensively, "I do not like being distracted from the material, if /questions/ like that happen again during my class time you will receive a detention, is that understood?"
  • Stranger: "Seems like you forgot to say goodbye that morning," Irene mumbled to herself under her breath before shaking her head to clear her thoughts. "Understood, sir," she said clearly, picking up her things and heading to the door. No point getting angry about it again, it was old news. She just had to let it go.
  • You: "It was more than adequate, Irene," he said, staring at the empty seats of his classroom, not looking towards her for fear of what she might see as he remembered.
  • Stranger: "What a glowing compliment," Irene muttered with a roll of her eyes, looking back at Sherlock once before turning away again. "You weren't too bad yourself, sir. Your technique could definitely use some work," she teased before she left.
  • You: He looked up with a bit of hurt at that, hoping he hadn't disappointed her. He shook his head, collecting his things and wondering if that was it, if he and the woman could move on now.
  • Stranger: [I have to go! Sorry I didn't get to rp for very long!]
  • You: ((Would you like to continue via email?))
  • Stranger: [Yeah sure I'm at, could you email me the log?]
  • You: ((Sure! Have a good night, love!))
  • Stranger: [Thank you!]
  • Stranger has disconnected.
10:37pm June 1, 2014

Yes she is wearing his favourite purple shirt, and no she will not give it back.
"Thievery is frowned upon, Ms. Adler."
The low rumble of his velvet-like baritone sends a shiver down her spin; he is so close she can feel the heat radiating from his lithe form. Gazing up through her thick lashes, Irene smiles coyly, “hmm, but how could you forget, Mr. Holmes. I misbehave.”
(The pose is referenced from nami64’s work on DA)

Yes she is wearing his favourite purple shirt, and no she will not give it back.

"Thievery is frowned upon, Ms. Adler."

The low rumble of his velvet-like baritone sends a shiver down her spin; he is so close she can feel the heat radiating from his lithe form. Gazing up through her thick lashes, Irene smiles coyly, “hmm, but how could you forget, Mr. Holmes. I misbehave.”

(The pose is referenced from nami64’s work on DA)

11:34pm May 4, 2014

thessbakerstreet:

so i saw someone mention Sendhil Ramamurthy as a possible Victor Trevor and i just…

image

yes

image

yes

image

headcannon

image

accepted!

1:37am May 3, 2014
  • You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
  • You both like teenlock, Johnlock, and femlock.
  • You: Am I unattractive? SH (Fem, 17)
  • Stranger: What? No. JW (m, 18)
  • You: But you find me repulsive. There must be a reason> You can tell me, I am not easily offended. SH
  • Stranger: I don't find you repulsive. Honestly, you're very beautiful. JW
  • You: But you react so vehemently whenever someone assumes we are together. You must think it's a terrible thing to be considered my lover. SH
  • Stranger: No, it's not that. I just thought you wouldn't like it if people assumed it. You consider yourself married to your studies. JW
  • You: I am, but that is simply a matter of where my attention lies. I've told you before, I do not care what others think. SH
  • But you do, and you definitely do not want anyone thinking that you and I are romantically involved so there must be something. SH
  • Is it my breasts? They're rather small. Or is it my height? I have heard that men prefer women to be shorter than them. Or perhaps it is merely my personality that you find so repelling. SH
  • Stranger: Sherlock, I don't find you repelling. Your breasts, height and personality are fine. I promise you that you are a very attractive person. Your cupid bow lips, your laugh, smile, and eyes are all fantastic. JW
  • Stranger: Why are worried about this? JW
  • You: Something I heard your rugby team talking about. SH
  • Stranger: What'd they say? JW
  • You: They were talking about me. And you. SH
  • Stranger: Oh. They were? JW
  • You: Yes, they were wondering if I was a prude because Three Schools Watson hasn't been able to fuck me yet. SH
  • Stranger: You know how idiotic they can be sometimes. You're my best friend and I would never just yet and fuck you. JW
  • Stranger: *try
  • You: Yes, well I know they're idiots. That's not what I'm curious about. SH
  • Stranger: Are you curious about why I haven't? JW
  • You: Yes, actually. SH
  • You: Every other girl you've met, you've wanted. But not me. SH
  • Stranger: I dunno, Sherlock. I just prefer to actually just get to know you. You are my best friend. JW
  • You: ((Just in case love, my email is ))
  • But you never tried, even before you met me. Something about me must not be attractive to you. I just want to know what it is. SH
  • Stranger: (thank you) Not really. Do you want me to be attracted to you? JW
  • You: [delayed] I just want to know what it is about me that you find unattractive. SH
  • Stranger: There's nothing unattractive about you. I promise. JW
  • You: You're not lying? SH
  • Stranger: No. You're really pretty. Prominent cheekbones, nice eyes, and you have a grace about you that makes you look confident. JW
  • You: I am confident. SH
  • Stranger: And it shows. JW
  • You: And that's good? SH
  • Stranger: Yes. JW
  • You: Right. SH
  • Do you have a date tonight? SH
  • Stranger: Not tonight. JW
  • You: I was thinking I'd actually eat tonight. Nothing to really think about. SH
  • We could have a night in? Like we would do in the summer? SH
  • Stranger: That sounds great. JW
  • You: I'll come over then? SH
  • Your mother won't fret that I'm too thin again, will she? SH
  • Stranger: Most likely, but I'll tell her not to say anything. JW
  • You: You won't make me watch one of those terrible spy movies again will you? SH
  • Stranger: Not if you don't want to. We can do what you want. JW
  • You: There was a new documentary on Jack the Ripper that Mycroft just left for me. SH
  • You would hate that wouldn't you? SH
  • Stranger: Not at all. We can watch it after dinner. JW
  • You: Really? SH
  • Stranger: Yea. It might be interesting. JW
  • You: I'll bring it then. SH
  • Stranger: Great. This'll be fun. I won't even have my phone on if any of the team calls. JW
  • You: You're angry with them for talking about us like that, aren't you? SH
  • Stranger: No. But they're getting smashed tonight and I don't want them to interrupt us. JW
  • You: You don't want to go out with them? SH
  • Stranger: Of course not. Not when I can hang out with you. JW
  • You: You're sure then? I don't want to take you from your plans. SH
  • Stranger: One hundred percent. I'll take a documentary with you over spending a night with drunk idiots any day. JW
  • You: I'm on my way over. SH
  • Stranger: I'll see you in a bit. JW
  • You: Sherlock didn't know why she felt glad to be spending the night with him. Usually she was quite content staying in alone with her studies but tonight she wanted to be with John, her best friend. Her best friend who didn't find her repulsive. She had the documentary in hand and bit her lip as she knocked on the door. She always worried when John's mum would fret over her, she thought that was what John thought of her. Too skinny. Probably too rude. She tried to be nice though. His mum seemed to like her well enough.
  • Stranger: John answered the door with a smile, trying not to let it fall as he seen how skinny she was. He deeply cared for her and was the best person in his life. "Come on in." He greeted, taking a step back to let her in. Mrs. Watson smiled as she heard Sherlock being greeted. "Sherlock, dear, can I get you anything to drink?"
  • You: She stepped inside, slipping off her shoes, curling her toes underneath her, "I...water would be lovely." She turned to John, feeling as though she hadn't rightly seen him for too long. They spoke in the halls and they texted often, she knew everything he did but she hadn't been here, spent time with him for so long. Always busy studying. "Hi."
  • Stranger: "Hi." He greeted, giving her a warm smile. "I've missed you. It's been awhile since we actually hung out." He said, regretting it. He really wished they could hang out more than they did, but she was either too busy studying or he had practice.
  • You: She didn't know why she did it, in fact she had never done it before when greeting him, but she hugged him, the DVD still in hand, her small body settling against his. "Sorry," she said, pulling back and smiling a bit awkwardly.
  • Stranger: He laughed, bringing her back in for a hug and holding her close. "Don't be. You're here now." He assured, giving her a small squeeze before he released her.
  • You: Her smile melted from the unsure to something real as he pulled her back. He was easy, he understood that sometimes she didn't know what to do and how to act and he helped her. He was good that way, "Dinner?" she asked.
  • Stranger: He nodded. "Right, yeah. Mum and I were just making some pasta. Da's on business for the next few days." He explained, leading her into the kitchen where Mrs. Watson was. She turned her head to them. "Water's on the table, love. I'm almost finished with the sauce." She explained.
  • You: "You help cook?" she asked John, moving and taking the water, sipping it slowly as she watched John's mother. She always found them so curious. Her family had cooks and maids and her mother and father rarely spoke at the same time, it was nothing like John's family.
  • Stranger: His cheeks flushed. "Only the noodles. Mum's really the one that puts it together." He explained, moving to help her. "It's either both my boys help or I enjoy it myself." She said, smiling at Sherlock. "How have you been? School going alright?"
  • You: She nodded, "Straight A's, as usual. I've started another paper. Father says that this one ought to be published," she swallowed looking to John. "I thought I should take a break though. This seemed like the place to go." She smiled slightly, "It smells amazing, Mrs. Watson."
  • Stranger: "That's wonderful. And thank you. You know you're welcome here any time." She assured, watching her look at John. "John seems to be happier when you're here." She added, causing John to flush. He was glad that it was hidden as he made sure the noodles didn't stick together.
  • You: "John's always happy, he's always saying I'm the one who needs to learn to relax," she said, shrugging and moving over to her curiously, "Can I- Can I help?" she asked, biting her lip and wondering if she really could do anything here.
  • Stranger: She smiled. "Sure. If you'd like, all you have to do is stir slowly until it bubbles." She explained, letting her have the wooden spoon. John looked over, watching Sherlock fondly as his mum explained it to her.
  • You: She stood on her toes, looking into the pot and biting her lip in concentration as she started to stir slowly. "The cooks never let me in the kitchen. Well they did once, but I sort of...blew up the oven. In my defense I was five. But they haven't let me back in since."
  • Stranger: She laughed, patting her on the shoulder encouragingly. "Don't worry, you're doing fine." She assureded, going and setting the table. "Noodles are done." John announced as he drained the noodles and poured it back.
  • You: "Is this good?" she asked, the sauce starting to bubble like she had said it would. She looked to John's mum for help, making sure she hadn't done it wrong. For all her ease in the laboratory, put her in a kitchen and she'll panic.
  • Stranger: She went back to her, nodding. "It looks great." She assured as John brought the pot over to them. "Do you want to pour it?" He offered, looking at her.
  • You: She looked a bit wide eyed and did as she was instructed, pouring the sauce over the pasta and smiling when it looked right. She looked at John excitedly, perhaps too easily pleased for a woman so smart, but then...she never really had moments like this.
  • Stranger: John chuckled, putting it on the cooled stove. "That was great." He assured, Mrs. Watson smiling. "Let's eat." She said, handing them plates and silverware. "Garlic bread's on the table."
  • You: Sherlock sat where her water had been placed, happily beginning to eat and realizing that it had been about a day since she had last fed herself. Perhaps she should come here more often. She had lost several pounds since the summer, probably thanks to her not seeing John and his family as much. She ate dinner happily and when they finished she looked to John for instructions.
  • Stranger: John ate, talking with his mom about school and everything. He made sure to include Sherlock, thankful that his mother didn't say anything about Sherlock's weight. When they finished, he took his plate and Sherlock's before putting them in the sink. Mrs. Watson bid them goodnight, needing to be at work early before dawn. He kissed her cheek goodnight before he led Sherlock into the living room. "Want to watch the documentary?"
  • You: She nodded eagerly, "It's supposed to have new reveals that they've realized only recently!" she said, passing him the disc and trying not to get too pleased.
  • Stranger: He chuckled, putting it into the player and grabbing the remote. "It sounds fascinating." He assured genuinely, moving to sit next to her on the sofa.
  • You: "You're just being nice, aren't you?" she asked, looking at him and suddenly curious about why they always sat so far apart on this thing.
  • Stranger: "No no, it actually does sound interesting to watch." He assured, giving her a smile.
  • You: She smiled, shifting closer to him and reaching for the blanket, "Start it!" she said happily.
  • Stranger: He laughed, pressing play and putting the blanket on the both of them.
  • You: She was too enthralled with the documentary to really remember all the thoughts she had been having about all of this, about John. She did grab his arm during the exciting reveal of the new facts that probably meant very little to most people and she never really let go.
  • Stranger: He watched her every once in awhile, smiling slightly. He put a hand on hers when she grabbed his arm. She was beautiful when she got into things in such depth. He didn't know why he had always been worried about people thinking they were dating. Perhaps he was afraid she would never like him back? He didn't know.
  • You: She smiled when it ended, relaxing and realizing she had been leaning up towards the screen, realizing too that John's hand was on her's. She couldn't help the flicker of her lips as she looked to him, smiling, "Did you like it?"
  • Stranger: He nodded. "I did. I liked the new information they had on him." He explained, never having learned much on the killer like Sherlock had. It was amazing to learn about it and a bit mysterious.
  • You: She giggled happily, "Isn't it fascinating?" she opened her mouth to list off exactly why it was so fascinating but instead she closed it, choosing instead to lean her head against his shoulder, "Thank you."
  • Stranger: "It's no problem. I enjoyed it. Perhaps we can find other documentaries on serial killers." He explained, leaning against her forehead and closed his eyes.
  • You: "We're going to fall asleep here if you do that," she whispered, closing her eyes as well. She never realized how soft John was, all warm and muscle but really very soft underneath all that.
  • Stranger: He smiled and put an arm carefully around her. "And that's bad?" He asked softly, relaxing and letting her rest against him.
  • You: She opened her mouth, looking for a reason as she melted against him more easily than she expected, but she couldn't find one, "No," she said, breathing him in and smiling into his chest.
  • Stranger: He rubbed her back gently and slowly. "I really do miss you. I also worry about you." He whispered, wanting to make sure this was just between them in case Harry came home early.
  • You: She hummed softly, "Worry? Why do you worry?" she asked, looking up at him and frowning slightly, still quite happy with how they've come to be, laying together like this.
  • Stranger: "You've lost so much weight. I haven't realised how much until tonight." He explained, feeling guilty that he couldn't help her.
  • You: Then her frown became more real, "I...I've just been busy studying and sometimes I forget," she frowned, looking at John and thinking of their conversation before. "Is that why you never..."
  • Stranger: "No....It's not. Look..." He began softly, moving some hair from her face. "I really do like you. A lot."
  • You: "But?" she asked, closing her eyes and waiting for him to point out whatever fatal flaw it was that kept him from wanting her.
  • Stranger: "But I'm afraid that if they say it, it'll only get my hopes up." He murmured, watching her. "That maybe you won't like me as much as I like you."
  • You: She opened her eyes, scanning his face to look for some trace of him mocking her, "You...really?" she asked.
  • Stranger: "Yea.....I told you how attractive you are. I meant it." He assured, giving her a small smile. "You're beautiful."
  • You: She pressed up, kissing his cheek and wrapping herself around him as best she could, "I...I may not understand much...but you're the only person I've ever wanted to spend time with. Ever. There are murders and crimes, which are fascinating and then there's my studies. But there's always you."
  • Stranger: "I'm glad. I really care about you. You are a genius and you understand a lot. It's one of the reasons I'm attracted to you." He murmured, holding her closer.
  • You: "No one has ever really held me like this before," she whispered, holding him tightly, not wanting him to stop.
  • Stranger: He kissed her temple. "It's nice to hold you. So warm and soft." He whispered, feeling comfortable.
  • You: She swallowed nervously, "Kiss me, John," she whispered, "I may not be very good but...I want you to."
  • Stranger: He looked at her, gauging her expression. "Don't worry about being good or not." He whispered, pressing his lips against hers softly at first to get her adjusted.
  • You: She pressed up against him, feeling as though she might start shaking at any moment. She let him lead the kiss, the clearly more experienced partner. She kept her grip tight on him, not wanting to let him really pull away.
  • Stranger has disconnected.