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melon-kiss · 5 years ago

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Cold Tea, Pt. 1

I’m not native English, which seems kind of obvious if you read my posts. I’d like you to keep that in mind. I hope your eyes won’t start bleeding at the end. Or in the middle. Or at any point of reading this fic.

Enjoy! or... whatever.

___________

“Hello, Sherlock.”

She finally answered the call, although she tapped the green button with a heavy heart. She put a lot of effort in trying not to sound sad.

“Is this urgent? Because I’m not having a good day.” Her voice sounded gloomy anyway.

When she woke up this morning, she felt a certain heaviness in everything she was doing. The lab seemed strange, she was working like a robot. She might not have a memory palace, but her body definitely had a muscle memory and was able to work with her brain detached.

“Molly, I just want you to do something very easy for me and not ask why”, Sherlock said fast as usual.

No “hello”, no “how are you doing”. Molly was used to his obnoxious behaviour but that day it only worsened her already bad mood. She wasn’t willing to deal with his craziness and arrogance. Not after all the tears she cried once she got back home from work. Not after realising it was another pathetic day of her lonely life. Another day of loving a person that could not care less about her.

You do count. You’ve always counted and I’ve always trusted you.

What a bunch of lies. She was useful to him in the best case scenario. She could show him bodies that should not be shown or let him use the lab equipment. She was the necessary leverage in his battle with Moriarty, but this was the only reason he wanted to spend an entire day with her - to thank her. On the rest of the days he was just manipulative as always. She didn’t matter to him in any sort of personal meaning of this word.

Usually, she would become his minion one more time, but that day she wasn’t going to play along.

“Oh, God, is this one of your stupid games?”

“It’s not a... game, I need you to help me”. His voice suddenly softened a bit, leading Molly to confusion.

“Well, I’m not at the lab-“

“It’s not about that”, he interrupted in a strangely nervous tone.

The nervousness got to her as well. The tea she intended to drink was starting to get cold and she resumed the making process to keep her hands busy. She felt it must have been something unusual, even for Sherlock Holmes.

“Well... quickly, then”, she replied, half-consciously cleaning up the kitchen counter.

But he remained silent for another couple of seconds. She started losing her patience.

“Sherlock!”, she rushed him. “What is it? What do you want?”

He finally spoke up.

“Molly, please, without asking why, just say these words.”

She thought that maybe this time it wouldn’t be that bad of a game. Maybe he just wanted to solve a funny puzzle and needed to hear it from someone else’s lips?

“What words?”, she asked with a little of a smile on her face.

“I love you.”

The bad mood, which was almost gone, got back immediately. So, after all, it was his another mockery. Another way to make her feel stupid and small in the face of the great, brilliant Sherlock Holmes. Her body started trembling a bit and she lost interest in the conversation right away. She took back the phone from her ear and look at the screen, her finger ready to tap the red icon.

“Leave me alone.”

“No, Molly, please, no, don’t hang up! Do not hang up!”

It was the first time Molly heard Sherlock in such desperate tone. What was it all about? No, never mind that. She stopped caring about his reason for this call. She didn’t want to talk to him. Not like that. Not about that. She was fed up with his ignorance of her presence and feelings. Mocking her was where she drew the line.

“Why are you doing this to me? Why making fun of me?”

“Please, I swear, you just have to listen to me.” He made a short stop. “Molly, this is for a case.” His voice was raised and sounded falsely. “It’s... it’s a sort of experiment.”

Ah, yes. Of course. All the people in the world were “an experiment” for Sherlock. And to think that she was the first one to discover the human in him... She was so stupid. So blind.

But even then, even when she felt so betrayed, it didn’t change her feelings.

“I’m not an experiment... Sherlock”, she replied, her voice lowered and eyes got glossy.

“No, I know you’re not an experiment, you’re my friend. We’re friends”, his response was a little bit more silent and softer again. It was the first time he openly admitted that. But nothing beyond that. “But... please. Just say those words for me.”

“Please, don’t do this”, she whispered.

Why would he do that? He’s changed a bit lately. Molly sensed a touch of John Watson in this metamorphosis of his, so... why would he do that? Did he not consult this with John? Did dr Watson approved this? How could he do this to her, knowing all he knew?

“Just.. just... don’t do it.”

Couldn’t he choose someone else? Many people, especially his dedicated fans, could say those words sincerely, if that’s what it all was about. Why did he choose her? Molly had many thoughts flooding her head with contrary opinions but she mostly felt betrayed by Sherlock. More than ever.

“It’s very important. I can’t say why... but I promise you it is.”

The person he thought didn’t matter at all to me, was the one person who mattered the most.

“I can’t, I can’t say that. I can’t say that... to you.”

Her heart started pumping blood a lot faster and heavier than before. She didn’t understand the sick position she was in, she didn’t understand Sherlock’s agenda and didn’t want to have this conversation at all. Yet, she didn’t hang up like he asked. She knew that humiliation was waiting for her. She initiated it with her last sentence.

“Of course you can, why can’t you?”

She almost felt his nervous smile on the other side of the call.

“You know why”. Her voice hardened with anger.

Why was he playing stupid now? After all those years of living in the need of being the smartest person in the room, he suddenly claims he doesn’t know? He didn’t notice? Bullshit.

“No, I don’t know why”, he replied in a desperate, almost mad tone.

She took a short breath and rubbed her nose, getting more and more anxious.

“Of course you know”, she said with a bitter smile.

Because... how could he not? It was kind of obvious he figured it out a long time ago, during a Christmas drinks with the rest of his friends. He spotted his own present in her bag and started angrily deducing that she was going to meet a “serious boyfriend” that night. And the surprise on his face when he read the tag... Not many people could surprise Sherlock, yet she managed to do this a couple of times. But that Christmas she paid for this astonishment with her own embarrassment. He said sorry, which was unusual for him, but... he must have deduced that back then. And see it in every move she made when he was around.

He was silent for a couple of seconds.

“Please, just say it.”

It seemed so easy when he talked about it, but her body was rejecting those words. She couldn’t. The words were stuck in her throat.

“I can’t. Not to you.” She started losing her voice.

“Why?”

What was with him and all those weird questions? Was he testing her patience or nerves? What was it all about?

“Because... because it’s true”. Her voice started breaking. She realised the last word was inaudible. “Because it’s true, Sherlock! It’s... always been... true...”

Tears filled her eyes and she couldn’t control her voice or breathing. The moment she waited for so many years came unexpectedly and in such horrible way. With Sherlock treating her disrespectfully, like an evidence on a crime scene, like a rat during a vivisection. Experimenting on her heart like a cold surgeon.

There was a dead silence for a couple of seconds on the other side of the call.

When he spoke, his voice was very low and surprisingly warm.

“If it’s true, just say it anyway.”

She laughed shortly, with a bitter face. She sighed, letting a bit of her anxiety go.

“You bastard.”

So he did know. He knew and he thought that this was going to be so easy? If it were, she would have told him a long time ago. Didn’t it occur to him that there must be a reason why it’s so difficult for people to tell someone they love them? No, of course not. Why would it? It’s Sherlock, after all. Emotional context and romantic entanglement are for losers. Losers like her, who would take a bullet for him. Like her who helped him take down the most dangerous criminal there has ever been on the London streets, his archenemy. Who, silently, was always there. Who gave up her bedroom so he could have his space.

“Say it anyway”, he insisted, his voice cold and unpleasant.

It was her turn. Her turn to play a game. To let him taste his own medicine. And... to hear it. At least once.

“You say it”, she demanded with confidence. “Go on. You say it first.”

“What?” He was clearly confused and nervous.

Apparently, he wasn’t that good in games if he wasn’t the game host. In logic games he might have been the best man of Earth, but if there were emotions included... he was lost. Helpless.

“Say it”, she repeated in a cold voice, the same one he used on her couple of seconds ago. “Say it like you mean it.”

For about fifteen seconds he didn’t say a single word. Molly pulled her phone closer to her ear, placed her second hand on the one holding the telephone and closed her eyes with a pain wrinkling her face. She didn’t want to miss a single sound if he was about to speak again.

“I...”, he started hesitatingly. “I love you.”

She felt the pain flooding her chest. It sounded so insincere. She kept imagining that this was real. She was picturing herself in a nice place with him, both of them smiling, his eyes filled with affection. She wanted so badly for those words to be real.

But she couldn’t make a sound.

And then, unexpectedly, he spoke again. Softly, silently.

“I love you.”

The pain couldn’t let go of her. She was rubbing her hand and pressing the phone against her face, trying to imagine the texture of the skin on his palms, the softness of his arms, the warmth of his body. His voice was still ringing in her head, not giving her any sort of relief.

“Molly?”

She took the phone from her ear and brought it closer to her lips. Her heart was beating so fast she could feel her entire body pulsing with it.

“Molly, please!” He sounded very desperate.

Back to the reality. Sherlock was still waiting for her response. She was rubbing her lower lip with her finger, gaining the courage. Now or never, Molly Hooper. Eventually, she took a deep breath.

“I love you.”

All she heard was a sound of a relief sigh. After that, he just unceremoniously hung up.

#sherlock #sherlock holmes #sherlolly #molly hooper #mollock #john watson #the final problem #ily scene #fanfiction #fic

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miz-joelys-sherlollilists · 8 years ago

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Latest & Greatest Final Problem Sherlolly Fics 03/24/17

Are You Ready? by darnedchild (Rated M, One-Shot) S4/Post TFP, PWP, Wank!lock AO3 2017

Because It's True by Emma_Lynch (Rated K+, In Progress, Multi-Chapter) Fill in the blanks fic, AO3 2017

Coming Clean by hobbitsdoitbetter (Rated M, One-Shot) Flying Solo In Tandem series, PWP, S4/Post TFP AO3 2017

Dirty Laundry by hobbitsdoitbetter (Rated M, One-Shot) Flying Solo In Tandem series, PWP, S4/Post TFP, Wank!lock AO3 2017

Donatus by Khans_Girl (Rated T, In Progress, Multi-Chapter) Pregnancy fic AO3 2017

Evermore by SimplyShelbs16 (Rated T, One-Shot) Songfic AO3 2017

Exasperating also starts with E by escailly (Rated K, One-Shot) Matchmaking (TFP AU) AO3 2017

Love, but at what cost? by chibiness87 (Rated T, One-Shot) ff.net 2017

New Paths by likingthistoomuch (Rated K, One-Shot) AO3 2017

Partners in Crime by simplyshelbs16 (Rated K+, One-Shot) S4/Post TFP ff.net 2017

Pick Up by SFDoll (Rated T, One-Shot) AO3 2017

The Secret to Seizing the Moment by Zackaroni1773 (Rated K+, In Progress, Multi-Chapter) S4/Post TFP, Parentlock ff.net 2017

That is why I love you by flimflam99 (Rated T, Complete, Multi-Chapter) S4/Post TFP AO3 2017

This Is It by daisherz365 (Rated T, One-Shot) AO3 2017

Three Little Words by duchess325 (Rated K+, One-Shot) The Baker Street Chronicles series, Parentlock, Secret Child AO3 2017

#sherlolly #the final problem sherlolly fics #go shoo read!

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lastoftheconsultingwizards · 6 years ago

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Soldiers Today.

Oh, God. Not Molly, anyone but Molly…

It would be torture, John thought, not just for Molly, but for Sherlock also. Sherlock who he knew regarded Molly with quiet admiration for her contributions in cases and in the scientific field. Sherlock who he knew wouldn't recognise love for another person from his own perspective. Sherlock who he knew was barely scratching the surface of love for another human being in any sense of the word.

Molly who, despite her best efforts still had feelings for his idiotic friend. Molly who had put up with Sherlock's total bullshit for far longer than he had. Molly who didn't deserve to admit something painfully true. Something she wouldn't want to admit.

He hoped to God that Sherlock would be gentle with this and not opt for something direct and to the point.

Mary hadn't been gone long, in the grand scheme of things, that had broken Sherlock. Imagining a world in which Molly Hooper, the Consulting Detective's beloved pathologist, was dead was easy enough. Molly was, as far as he was aware one of Sherlock's oldest colleagues, his world would shatter. It was a haunting image of the future. Rosie, without her godmother, having just lost her mother. He without a close friend whom he relied upon dearly and trusted with his life.

I'm sure that even Mycroft would miss her. John thought to himself, watching in desperation, on the balls of his toes as the clock counted further down. It rang out.

“Hi, this is Molly. At the dead centre of town!... Leave a message.”

Things started to slow, Sherlock remained, laser focused on only one thing, his pathologist. All else in the room, his best friend and his brother were background noise and they knew it. Even the British Government beside him was silent. Sherlock was wired, back sprung tight, coiled and ready to take flight.

Please…

Mycroft was staring at Sherlock alone, Eurus’ looming face was ignored.

Pick up pick up pick up. John chanted the mantra in his head, hoping that somehow, over hundreds of miles of distance she would sense his desperation telepathically and answer.

She did.

The air in the room changed as the three men released breaths they didn't realise they were holding.

“Molly, I need you to do something for me…”

Shit.

“Say these words.”

“What words?” She gave half a smile, a weak laugh edged her voice.

She was having a bad day. He wondered briefly if Rosie was being difficult, she was currently teething and had had him up all night. But he felt selfish for thinking about his daughter when one of the lives of his closest friends was at stake. There were no comments from the youngest Holmes, barely anything to indicate that this was anything other than an incredibly private phone call between two people who, John was rapidly realising, probably did in fact love each other.

Part of him felt cruel, so cruel for witnessing this woman admitting that she did, in fact, love Sherlock. Watching her crumble at the edges was nigh on impossible, and for a split second he saw the Molly he knew years ago. Until-

“You say it.” And she was back, the no-bullshit-molly-hooper with a new hardness in her voice. She had put up with so much from Sherlock, more than he could probably guess.

“Say it like you mean it.”

Everyone in the room knew Sherlock to be a good actor, the man could slip, so easily into a bumbling French waiter or a Glaswegian prison officer but this was different. This was his heart, caged in a glass that was peppered with hairline cracks, cracks that were widening further with the ordeal of Eurus and memory of long buried trauma.

John resisted, strongly the urge to shout out to Molly, this was their fight. Sherlock's fight, but, retrospectively, it would probably turn out in victory. Mary's departure had softened him and John hoped he could play out some true part of himself that did love the doctor. She looked so small against the vast countertop, huddled into that rainbow jumper that on anyone else would look hideous but Molly somehow managed to pull it off.

“I- I love you.”

John's thoughts stopped, frozen.

And he said it again, it was different. He exchanged a look with Mycroft, who was less surprised and gloating that John expected.

Sherlock was tense, ready to take flight.

He loves her. He loves her. Not Irene Adler. Her.

Molly was less wired, and, as if she were exposing her darkest secret. She responded, blissfully with seconds to spare.

John's brain was screaming, in any other situation he would have probably punched the man in the face but they were soldiers today. All three of them.

It was Mycroft who tried to speak first -

“I won, I saved Molly Hooper.”

When Eurus started to explain that she hadn't needed saving and began to almost mock Sherlock for “all those complicated little emotions” John felt ready to lose it. Instead, calmly, with pause, he motioned Mycroft that they should move on. He felt dirty, having encroached on a moment that was so forced, so deeply private. It was a moment that should have happened face to face, voice to voice, soul to soul. He was seething, for Sherlock, who he was sure lacked to emotional intelligence to control and comprehend whatever was now surging through his veins.

When this is over, he resolved, he would make the two of them sit in a room and sort it out.

He'd send them to couples therapy if he had too.

Although Sherlock was struggling to put a valve on the unstoppable barrage of emotions that were trying to drag him under in a tsunami wave his breathing was clearly wracked with something resembling panic.

Soldiers today. It was a mantra. And although it didn't fix anything permanently, nothing would be fixed the same way after today, it soothed Sherlock's seething. He'd tired himself out physically and emotionally.

How could Mycroft look on with such little reaction?

They moved on. For the moment.

Soldiers today...

***

Look!! I posted a fic!! I also put it up on A03 because I'm trying to be a #techsavvyteenager and fit the stereotype but I'm a grandpa :// anyway it's the ILY scene from John's POV kinda. I hope I did his character justice? Anyway yea I hope you liked it and thanks.

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ukthxbye · 6 years ago

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I’ll Call You When the Party’s Over

on ao3

part 3 of a series

John, safe. Mycroft, safe. Parents, safe.

Molly, safe but…

Sherlock needed a car and there were police vehicles covering the lawn of his old family home. In his mad attempt, he moved too slow to evade capture.

“What the hell, Holmes?!” an officer yelled, snatching his arm and dragging him out the car seat.

Sherlock grunted and growled as he pulled from the man and sat on the ground head in hands.

The officer saw weariness mingling with something else in the trembling man before him, busted knuckles bleeding through the wrappings. Though he did not understand everything he endured, he realised Sherlock Holmes needed to get somewhere desperately.

The keys landed in the grass at Sherlock’s feet with a thud as he checked to see if anyone was looking. ��Take mine, mate. The gray one. Just don’t wreck it.” With that said, he walked away back to John Watson to get more information.

One more deep breath and Sherlock leapt up, keys in hand. John watched the vehicle speed away with a sigh and a deep breath of his own.

Sherlock hesitated but a moment at her door, deciding on picking the lock, finding his key, or knocking. He ran each scenario quickly, but she beat him to the punch. The door wide open before him. She hadn’t been asleep and heard him outside.

He soaked in her form, all in one piece and covered by a fluffy dressing gown. A strange compulsion to embrace her and bring her close to him fell over him. But as his eye landed on her face, he rapidly accessed that he could not linger there nor was a hug in the cards. Her eyes dry but red and burning holes into his own.

“Sherlo--” but he cut off her as he brushed past her on to the mission ahead.

Frantic and desperate, he searched the edges and heights, recalling angles from the video feed. She stomped into her sitting room, glaring at him as she tried to follow his erratic movements.

“Bloody hell, they already found them!” she yelled, hands in fists at her side. Her voice cracked at the end. Her throat still raw from one long cry she let go after the phone call ended. His eyes revealed he sussed that out, his pause causing her own, as both breathe in heaves. She spied the tremble in his fingers and clamped her mouth shut tight as her eyes closed to him in frustration.

“Sherlock, if you are high--”

“How many?” he asked breathlessly.

“How many what?” she asked shaking her head.

“Cameras. How many did they find?” he murmured, continuing his tearing at corners and edges near her bookcase.

She scrunched her face up.

“How many?!” he turned and shouted, causing her to jump in place.

“Two!” she yelled in return.

A grunt, and hands raked through his hair as he squeezed his own eyes closed, searching for the images he required. In a second, they popped back open, and he deftly moved his hand over a cat figurine on her shelf.

He pulled a small camera out from the bottom between his fingers, twirling it.

She stood frozen and wide- eyed following his motions. She wondered how long it had been there and gulped at the realisation.

He looked into it not sure if it still had a feed connected. With a slight smile he dropped it the floor and slammed his heel into it. Its spark made her jump again, arms folding in frustration.

She drew a hard breath through her nose, “Dammit Sherlock.”

With that task complete, all the energy drained out his limbs. He shuffled to her sofa and collapsed.

“Tell me what the hell is going on!” she shouted, hands on her hips as she walked toward him.

“Sister... I have a sister.” It sounded so simple, he thought.

She frowned waiting for him to continue to connect their current state to this mess before them.

He contemplated ways to explain everything even he had not wrapped his mind around. He patted his pockets, put his hands in them. Bare facts then , he decided.

�� “She killed my best friend when we were children and tried to burn our home down. Through my own trauma, aided by relatives including Mycroft I replaced my memories of her.”

His eyes turned up to see her standing in shock, jaw dropped, and he spoke again.

“She built an elaborate game that involved Mycroft, John and I. You were targeted as well.”

She murmured, “They looked for bombs and cameras but wouldn’t explain, beyond that.”

“There was a timer we watched. If you didn’t answer or say the words, it would trigger the explosions. She blew 221b up, so I had no reason to believe her not planning the same fate for you.”

She shuffled her feet, “That is awful but…”

“Yes it was a lie, but I did not learn until after... her true purpose.”

Silence fell between them. Weariness sat his shoulders, but hers remained tight. It still irritated her. Years of it crawling in the cracks of her mind and collecting in a pool in front of her thoughts. She broke when she hung up the phone call earlier. Admittance only made the burden excessive. She wanted something but what she hadn’t put words to yet.

Sticking to the facts at hand, she sniffed, “Well that explains it all I guess.”

Sherlock shook his head absently as he looked to the side, rubbing his hands together, ignoring their pain. “No, I am afraid there are many more questions.”

“Well I am sure you will have it all sussed--”

“You’re angry.” He stared at her as she stopped her words with his. She crossed her arms unyielding at her chest, glancing toward her kitchen and then down to the floor.

“How else did you expect me to be?” she sighed heavily.

He pressed the issue. “Must have known... you know... you asked me to say it first.”

“Because it was a game or could be or experiment or God any of your other madness and I wanted to send as good as you could take... I don’t know what the truth is to be honest,” she swallowed hard and shook her head, shrugging her shoulders in frustration. “Never do with you.”

He drew in a sharp breath and huffed it out. “That seems unfair I have been brutally honest at times with you and in your presence.”

“And yet you lied easily to John and Janine” She raised her eyebrow, daring him to argue against it.

He challenged, “There are some not as perceptive as you and I.”

“Flattery is another one of your techniques. Do not attempt it on me now,” she half whispered with narrowed eyes.

“For a purpose for advantage yes. But outside of that, men lie for sex, for comfort and for guilt. I have the baser instincts under control, I need no comfort I cannot seek in less complicated endeavors…” he paused in thought. “I cannot say I never lied out of guilt but I am not in this case. I see no advantage to lie right now about any of this.” His eyes shot up, seeking hers. She held them for a breath but looked away and down.

She bit her lip shaking her head as she murmured, “Lies are more complicated than that Sherlock”

His forehead folded as his turned down to his hands. The wounds ached and stung with every muscle twitch. Splinters poking into nerves.

“Why am I even bothering?”

“I was wondering the same thing.” she half laughed.

He stood abruptly and crossed to stand closer to her. She pulled back instinctively.

“So you have always been completely truthful to me?” He studied her face and saw a doubt flash across her eyes. “Ah, there it is. The realisation you are human just the same as I am.” He stared. Her eyes still red, tired. Fire deep but not at the surface yet.

She smirked, “Admitting we are human now?”

“Don’t change the subject, don’t try to deflect with me.” Now his irritation showed its edge.

“I’ll do what I damn well please at this point,” she gritted, her eyes searching his face.

“Why was today a bad day?” he pressed further. His voice low and direct, not dropping his gaze.

“I think that’s obvious,” she sneered.

He narrowed his eyes. "No... earlier on the phone you asked if it was urgent, you weren’t having a good day, and you didn’t answer the first call—"

“Who’s deflecting now?” she threw back.

“Tell me,” he gritted through his teeth,

“Tell you what?” she sniffed. All leverage was hers.

He huffed, his face falling, as he shoved his hand back in his pockets. “It's impossible... the most impossible situation. To convince someone of the truth when they fear everything has always been a lie. And yet…” he stopped himself, his face softening. “There is a truth to that. I have lied to you. Wishing you well and happiness with someone who was a poor substitute for what you really wanted.”

She raised her hand but drew it back into a fist and to her side.

“The goddamned audacity of you Sherlock Holmes,” she whispered through her teeth.

He risked a smirk. “Can you counter it? No? Then tell me why the day was bad.”

She bared her teeth at him, “Fuck you... you’ve already deduced it so you tell me because God you love to do that, don’t you? Consider it the first and last time with me you get to.”

The direction of the discussion would not benefit either of them but his irritation and her anger found their perfect juxtaposition.

He swallowed hard.

“Molly…”

She dropped her own voice. “Tell it to me.”

He gulped again, searching her face and his thoughts. His theory would open wounds. But she requested it nonetheless.

“Or maybe the great Sherlock Holmes doesn’t perceive everything that goes through everyone’s mind,” she mocked with feigned shock.

“It’s Tom... he’s engaged to someone else,” he said plainly.

She smirked sadly, “Wow, such a bloody good guess... that is wrong.”

He frowned and regretted trying the thought out. “I don’t mean to—

“Yes, you do. But why would it be him and I would still be upset, after all he is a poor substitute and here I have-had the real thing confessing his love to me,” she stumbled out, emotions starting to crack in her voice.

He caught the slip but shoved it out of his mind searching for the piece he was missing.

She sighed, folding her arms against her chest again, “Toby is sick. That’s it.”

He closed his eyes in frustration at missing the cat at his feet. He assumed perhaps it was due to all the yelling but Toby never seemed to care before.

She continued, rambling out everything like a bottle spilled on the floor, “I mean they think he’ll be fine but they are running tests. And also a new intern damaged a sample, and I got to start a new process. And aunt Liz insists she is dropping in on Sunday and she is a bloody pill and complains about everything and it's exhausting that my day off will be spent listening to her insult everything including the tea… That’s why it’s a not good day... well, until--”

“Molly, I’m sorry she made you part of her--”

She waved her hand to stop him, “I know…” she took a deep breath, “You had no say in that. And I was not the only one in your life within her touch.”

“It’s not a game, though I thought in the end I won some advantage but I lost. Being here only reminds me,” he murmured, feeling tension leaving between them.

“I’m alive, so are you.” she shrugged.

“At what cost though? No, death was not the punishment or the prize. Emotions. She found them, cutting back layers and she thought--”

She screwed up her face, glancing at his. “That I would be delicate enough to be permanently damaged?”

He sighed, poking his bottom lip out in contemplation. “Perhaps... or perhaps just... me. I lost, you are saying it as well she did, though in a way that still somehow preserves both our dignities.”

He turned his eyes back to hers, locking into a stare. “You’ve always done such skillfully.”

She shook away the stare, “Stop, because these are words like you’ve said before. That I count. That I matter most and then you just leave me on a metaphorical doorstep.”

“Then why do you continue to stand there?” he asked earnestly.

She bit her lip, not sure if the complicated thoughts would come out right if she spoke them quickly. But they came to her anyway, and she let them out.

“I do leave that place, and you unconsciously... or consciously? Who knows, but anyway… you find a way to pull me back there.” she shrugged again looking down at her feet.

He imperiled himself once more.

“I said the words, twice. Do you understand why?”

Molly countered, “She told you what the rules were.”

“Only to convince you to say them. You changed those rules,” he admitted.

“So why…,” she squinted her eyes. “God, I don’t know if I even want to know. Whatever you realised I don’t even want to know at this hour when…” she bit her top lip in frustration.

“What does the hour matter now?” he huffed shifting closer to her.

She allowed it but still questioned him. “Why do you need to tell me now? Why can’t we leave it like all the other times I wonder?”

Her brown eyes turned up to his, and he felt the words leaving his lips, remembering hearing them that day in the hospital. Now they meant something to him as well. That she said it better than he could have ever attempted to compose.

“It’s not that I didn’t love you... it’s that I loved you at the wrong time,” he lamented.

Molly’s eye went wide but fell to the floor as she dropped her chin, her hands rubbing her face.. Sherlock listened to her quiet breathing through her nose and to the sigh before her words.

“You weren’t asleep.”

He opened his mouth, but she spoke again, this time that bitterness spitting back.

Her hands fell to fists balled at her side. "I knew it. I ignored my instincts and... and..."

“It's your blind spot. I am... I’ve always been such,” he murmured, keeping a close watch on her face.

Those words ran across her mind, and she searched for the exact emotion they elicited.

Its something.

“Why did you not just wake up? Have a real conversation?” she pressed.

“You were confessing... something I was intrigued by and seemed deeply personal. Too personal to interrupt,” he shrugged.

“But it’s ok to just listen and record like you do and do nothing with then?” she gritted.

Taken aback, he asked, “Who said I did nothing with those words?”

“We wouldn't be having this conversation after 2 am if you had.”

She might have been right, he thought but what did she expect? What had he missed?

He returned to the sofa in a huff as he flopped down.

“What do you wish I would address? Considering your awareness of my nature and thoughts on emotional entanglements,” he stiffened, narrowing his eyes.

Her lip trembled, but her voice strengthened with each word. “Ah now we get to the truth then. You don’t love me. You love that noble feeling you get putting me at just the right distance. It's a different kind of high, isn’t it? At least when I preserve your dignity it is out of concern. Yours is the same as a pat on the back for you.” Venom soaked in her words, and no energy left in him to avoid the bite. But he discerned the source of the hurt. She did too. And she wasn’t ready to let it go. “Molly, I wasn’t lying,” he said, letting his voice slip into a plead. “So what?” He stared with a dropped jaw and he snapped it shut before responding in a quiet voice. “You confound me and... you said it too.” “Duress isn’t what I would call healthy,” she exasperated. “You didn’t know you were--” “Sherlock, you are the duress. You asking was traumatic. And your sister gets it. God, she is the smart one, isn't she?” she jeered.

He stopped, his jaw tightening, but he kept his voice low. “Let’s not discuss her.”

“Probably best.” she sighed.

“I. Was. Not. Lying” he said louder, capturing her eyes as she moved a step closer.

“So. What.” She narrowed her eyes as she stopped.

“So what," He laughed suddenly. “I see I have labored in…” He squeezed his eyes shut pausing before he put his foot in his mouth once more. “But you are correct, I am the duress. Weight placed on you because you were strong enough to endure it.”

“Because I let you. My own fault. I’ve beat myself up enough now though.” she admitted.

“Love makes us fools.” He meant it for something more specific to come out but that is all his tongue allowed.

She frowned deeply. “I was no fool, I knew what I was in for every time. I knew exactly what I got myself in every moment I let you have.”

“I have never been fooled.” she gulped.

“Then I cannot understand it. Help me understand it,” he begged.

He stood and moved to her in a flash. He reached his hand out to grab hers. He fathomed nothing else to do. Words batted away every time. But she did the same to his hand, and he stood lost once again.

“Don’t you dare try because I made my needs clear.” She raised her voice. “You do not get this to control because it is my heart and my future and past. You wanted it in pieces before and that is what you are going to get now. If you cannot agree to that, then get out of my flat.”

She motioned toward the door with her head, waiting for his response.

Everything in her ached. Everything in her told her this was needed, wanted. At least by her. To take some control back when the advantage was hers. Sure, she wanted to believe she could just embrace him, take his hands hers and all would be fall into place. But that would require ignoring something, everything they would have to deal with anyway in the end.

His eyes danced between her and the door. The thought of cool air outside filling his lungs slammed into the front of his thoughts. He craved it like a drag off a new cigarette. The ceiling closed in on him, and his knuckles twinged at the memory of that same cavalcade of emotions crashing over him. Overwhelming until they relieved it with tearing apart the object that spoke of a finality he was unprepared for anyone except himself.

“That’s it then,” she struggled out, tears unexpectedly finding their way out. And it made her mad that he got them to appear again. She rubbed her face fiercely.

He looked at his feet. "These words are empty for now. They lack the understanding you seek, need… I..."

He strode quickly to the door, staring at it, placing a hand on the knob.

Molly’s tears stung again, and she covered her face pressing her fingers in her eyes as if it could dam the overflow that threatened if and when he opened and closed that door.

The dull thud of his fist slamming into the wood, followed by his desperate scream, filled the room, and Molly jumped at it dropping her hands to her side.

Sherlock fell to the floor holding his knuckles. Her feet carried her and her legs gave way as she landed the floor beside him before she could stop herself. Her hands went to his instinctively examining. Only when she realized what she allowed herself to do she froze.

He flinched and pulled his hand out of her grasp.

She grabbed it back roughly, and he grunted in pain.

She missed it before in the cloud of hurt and confusion that fogged the room.

She missed the dressings haphazard at best, probably something he stole from the ambulance. He left John and everyone there and rushed here.

“Sherlock, for God’s sake... what the hell did you do to yourself?”

“Released a little tension that is all.”

She stared at him.

“Destroyed a coffin as part of the game.” He wanted to tell her. He didn’t tell her earlier. He can’t decide within himself if it was a positive or a negative yet. Weighing its worth as that gold plaque sat heavy in his pocket even now.

"Oh, God that must hurt like hell," she whispered.

“Yes, the hands hurt too.”

She frowned at his attempt at something they had just decided to let go she thought.

She unwrapped his hands, ignoring his whimper as the blood stuck the tape his skin and pulled.

"God there are splinters everywhere Sherlock," she exasperated wearily.

She sighed as she turned his knuckles to study them in the lamp's light on the table near her door.

“I will get it taken care of—“

“By me. Just... just stay there.”

He leaned against the side table as he heard shuffling in her bathroom for supplies. He eyed the door to his right, knowing he had time to slip out and away. But his leg were in sand and he could not shift them to bear his weight.

She returned with a small basket of supplies and sat beside him again.

Snapping on gloves, she grabbed a pair of tweezers. He drew into himself a bit but she snatched his hand rough again producing a whimper from him as she worked fast pulling splinters.

“Your bedside manner is lacking,” he smirked then grimaced as she dug out a larger piece.

She didn’t look up at him and only kept her eyes on his hand. “What do you expect after 2 in the morning?”

“The coffin said something... something specific.”

She paused, looking back into his eyes, as she finished putting on ointment.

As he tells her the rest, she found herself shaking.

“It said ‘I Love You’ and as my brother said, the list was small of who loved me.”

She turned her attention back to his hand, beginning the new wrapping slowly.

“The coffin was meant for you. Perhaps in another game you were inside it. I don’t know, I…” his voice cracked. “I only knew I could not let it stand.”

“So…”

“John and Mycroft were there,” he murmured.

“Great... that’s not... awkward at all,” she half rolled her eyes and closed them. She wondered what tomorrow’s conversations would look like.

He watched her work on his other hand, which she lifted much more gently, delicately applying ointment before she began its wrapping.

“Please don’t stay angry with me.”

His voice soft and low like velvet so close to her ears. The hair on her neck stood up, and she knew she blushed. She could feel the heat rise in her cheeks and there was no hiding his effect.

He pleaded, “Do anything else but please--”

She shrugged, “Sherlock I am not really angry with you... well, about this anyway, can’t be…” She offered, “So... we try the friends thing again?”

“That appears to be off the table,” he half smiled.

She laughed, and it caught in her throat at the end. She laughed the same over the phone to him. He noted now how sad it sounded then and now. He tired of being the cause.

"We’ll always be friends, Sherlock. If I haven’t kicked you out of my life yet then — "

“Not sure if you caught the meaning of my answer,” he sighed.

“And I think you are missing my silent plea… not tonight... not now.”

She looked into those blue eyes much too long as always. So near as she held his hand.

“I—”

“Have a sister to sort out and family and a blown up 221b, correct?” She read his eyes for understanding. “There are more pressing matters than what we said.”

“I cannot say you are incorrect but perhaps... imprecise,” he murmured sadly.

She shook her head breaking the spell of his stare. “Do not feel out of some sense of obligation that is has to be dealt with at all. We have yelled about it, well kind of, and it’s done,” she shrugged one shoulder.

“If obligation were the only driving factor perhaps but shockingly enough I realise that I do have feelings—” he attempted but she cut him off with another shake of her head.

“Which again, we can discuss but not tonight, it’s too close to it all and I don’t trust it.”

“Or me.” He surmised that his face had fallen, but he hoped it would provoke a better memory.

“Don’t pout or I’ll kick you out on the pavement. I don’t know what is real here and I need time to process it all and you do too.”

She couldn't look at him as she said it with a tiny glace out the corner of her eye. She knew he possessed a look, all soft eyes and dropped lips that would dissolve the barriers she needed tonight and for God knows how long. She fought herself long enough to shore them up, and she wasn’t letting him tear down her work. She’ll admit to herself later the hole that phone call blasted through her, but now he was too close, both physically and metaphorically.

He stared at her as she finished the last wrapping as a quiet settled between them. Not out of confusion but to further his understanding. Watching every line on her face crease, contemplating how much he deepened them. He worried over them before he got in that ambulance and he noted their increase. Every word of his plan dragging her face down. Realisation washed over him like a wave; he only seen her smile once since then. He saw that sad smile she gives, and he looked to her lips now, holding back pain. The strange to him desire, an ambition to relegate those sad smiles to memory only. He missed her, though her hands held his, and her breath caressed the hairs to rise on his skin. He craved to see her grin freely and at something he said, something good or funny, even if it was at his own expense.

She stood up, bracing herself on his shoulder and wall. “Sleep. I think we should try that. I’ll take the other bedroom. Just laundered the sheets anyway... not sure why. Guess I had a hunch.”

He stood as well, “No, Molly. Let me for once be put out. You sleep in your bed.”

She patted his arm but pulled away quickly. “No. God, look, I am comfortable sleeping on a slab in the morgue and I’ve done it. You are more particular.”

He smirked, “Molly, I slept in caves at one point while I was dead .”

She smirked back, “But you didn’t like it. Look, just let’s keep this the same for tonight, ok?”

“Tomorrow?”

“We’ll see. We’ll just have to see. But I need to sleep.” She yawned wide. “Good night... morning. Whatever.”

There sat a hope in her use of “we’ll” that he carried with him down the hall to her bed, shrugging off his coat, feeling its lopsided weight once more. Soft and white and deep her bed called him, like it did in his mind, but empty of her and her words.

He whispered to himself into her pillow like a prayer as he drifted into a dreamless sleep.

“I love you... I love you.”

#sherlolly #angst #hurt/comfort #the final problem #sherlock #post-the final problem #ukthxbye is ficcing

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missmollybloom · 2 years ago

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Things I’d love to see in a new season of Sherlock

(To be honest, I’d take a one-off special at this point! Anything!)

One day, I might turn this into a fic - but in the meantime, here are my dreams for how the next episodes of Sherlock might go. (And note my eternal optimism that there *will* be more episodes one day!)

I want to see Molly as a natural part of the narrative, she doesn’t have to take over, she doesn’t need to be a huge part, I just want her there. (Part of that is my reaction to how small a role she was given in s4 compared to s3!!).

But what if Mrs Hudson requested in her will that the whole of 221 be left to Molly. Why? Because she knows that Molly is the only other woman Sherlock would let look after him, the only one he listens to, the only one he trusts.

She’s still working at Bart’s, but she’s also there, living in Mrs H’s flat.

Sherlock could make a few cracks about “the new landlady” to John before it’s revealed to us that’s it’s Molly.

“No more drugs for me, John. The new landlady wouldn’t allow it.”

“You’ll notice there are no more bullet holes in the walls. Request of the new landlady.”

“I’m even eating during cases now. The new landlady didn’t buy my argument that digesting slows me down.”

We get this picture of a very stern, harsh mistress.

“Oh. Here she comes now.” Sherlock warns

And it’s Molly.

For Molly’s part, she’s moved on with her life. She has twins. If we do the math we can work out they were probably conceived within a few months of The Final Problem.

There’s enough ambiguity to keep everyone happy. It’s never spelled out.

Maybe it was a one-night stand or a relationship that failed and the father isn’t in the picture?

Maybe she got an anonymous sperm donor?

Maybe she asked Sherlock to be the sperm donor?

Or maybe the sperm was donated “recreationally”?

Fans can debate it over and over. There’s enough deniability for the J*hnL*ckers to be happy and plenty of fodder for Sherlolly fans to write countless fics over.

Anyway... some thoughts.

If anything, I just want more episodes! Please!

#sherlolly #imaginary season 5 #missmollybloom can dream #Molly Hooper

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maryholmes94 · 2 years ago

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My 'Sherlock' headcanons and preferences

(writing it more for myself, but in case anyone should ever take an interest, here we go)

Favourite season - 4

The least favourite season - 2

Three favourite episodes - 'The Final Problem', 'The Abonimable Bride', 'The Sign of Three'

Three episodes I dislike the most - 'His Last Vow', 'A Scandal in Belgravia', 'The Hounds of Baskerville'

Favourite episode written by Mark Gatiss - 'The Six Thatchers'

Favourite episode written by Steven Moffat - 'The Lying Detective'

Favourite characters - Mycroft, Molly, Sherlock in season 4, Eurus

The characters I dislike the most - Moriarty and Mrs. Holmes

Favourite actors - Mark Gatiss and Sian Brooke

The pairings:

Always Mollcroft, never Sherlolly (I'm not against the latter, I just don't see them together, although I think that Sherlock loves Molly very much and would make a great brother-in-law)

Quite like Warsten and sometimes even Adlock (although I don't like very much how they wrote Irene), but I believe both Sherlock and John would be happy with someone else, so for me it's Sherlock/OFC and John/OFC

Obviously don't support Johnlock and Mystrade (both clearly the fandom pairings - some may like it, but others have every right not to)

Euriarty my love (currently looking for some prompts, but in vain - which is okay, I can think of something myself)

And also enjoy Stella Hopkins/Greg Lestrade - they look quite nice together

And overall, for me 'Sherlock' is primarily a story about Sherlock Holmes, and Benedict Cumberbatch is its main star and leading actor. And I love that in season 4 they showed how human Sherlock was and how he brought his family back together. So therefore in my fics I focuse on the family issues and try to find a happy ending for this story.

#SherlockBBC #myheadcanons #mollcroft #adlock #warsten #euriarty #MarkGatiss #StevenMoffat #SherlockHolmes #BenedictCumberbatch

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fffinnagain · 4 years ago

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10 Years of Sherlock (TV) AO3 stats!

Sherlock fans, new and old, click below to read a long list of graphs and comments about our communities fanworks over the last 10 years. I scraped AO3 again and demonstrate that:

More creators are writing longer works in 2020

Readers engaged more as the fandom changed after S4

Top ten new tags per year for the last 10 years

And a lot more.

PS the code to gather this data and analyse it can be found way over here.

Activity over 10 years

The last 10 years in the BBC Sherlock fandom have been tumultuous, but this community persists, with engagement from new fans and continued creative output. To commemorate over a decade of squee, I’ve done another scrape of the fandom’s imprint on the Archive of Our Own and will share some insights from the numbers in these plots. A very late update on my post S4 snapshot from 2018.

Note: This analysis is of completed public fanworks only, about 101000 of the 122000 Sherlock (TV) works available at present. This is to remove the late WIP effect, which adds a bulge to the last few months, and out of respect to creators who wish to have their material reserved for other registered AO3 users.

The works are still coming

Counting the number of works posted per day, we can see the peaks associated with each series airing (in UK and US). After that, the number of works continues fairly evenly, 20-30 per day, plus seasonal peaks. This rate is continuing on without a hint of new canon in sight. So who is posting all this work?

Creator-waves, monthly output

Years ago I started plotting creator waves, basically I group fanwork producers by the year they first posted to the fandom and then count how many of this group are active in later time intervals. This lets us get a sense of how long people are contributing and whether new fans are getting the urge to create.

This plot of the Sherlock (TV) fanworks on AO3 shows the standard shape of plump participation in the first year of any given set of creators, followed by a slowly thinning tail as they because less active over time. Turnover is natural in fandoms, with most only posting a work or two within a fairly limited amount of time, while a precious few persist for years. The surprise for me here is that the ratio of new creators is higher in 2020 than it was in 2019. Maybe the excuse of lockdown encouraged more folks to take a turn at creating content.

Another way to look at the output of fan creators on AO3 is to see the total amount of words being shared across all fanworks. The total has been pretty close to 300-400k words per month since 2018! To get a sense of what that means per work, I also plotted the median number of words per fanwork in these monthly sets. The median in higher in the last year than it had been staying for a while.

Reader behaviour: Hits & Kudos & Comments

Fan creators are only part of the story. Stats on engagement are a bit trick to interpret, I’ve got some plots here that tell us something about how works have been engaged with over time.

The obvious first to consider is Hits. Above is the total number of Hits given to works published each month. This is the current totals, not a historical snapshot, so we have a very strong bias towards early works, what we might call the Classics Effect. Works that have been around longer have had the chance to be seen by more people, and in particular those works that become must-read classics in a fandom, extending their exposure through prominence in top ranked works and recommendations.

To cut down on the advantage of the classics, we can also consider median hits per work for each month. As most works get a lot attention when they are first posted and then fade out of sight, the median number of hits reflects instead the ratio of readers to creators, basically how many eyeballs are around to look at the latest work, regardless of status. The median plot shows how the hyper-visibility of the few work available before 2012, and then a more steady curve once the fandom had gotten established on the platform after Series 2. Amazingly, the hit rate for the median work was steady through the big bumps in activity with later series, a 1000 hits for median works between 2013 and 2018, followed by a slow decline. I’d expect the 2020 works to continue gaining for a few months yet, but the median is probably 50-60% of what is was when the show was in production.

Kudos counts and medians show a similar story to hits, but there is a dip down around 2013 for kudos reflects the frenzy of productivity that saw the fandom grow during the Series 2 hiatus. Readers were getting spoiled! From the airing of Series 3 (2014) until a year following Series 4 (2018), the median work received an even 60ish kudos and 1000 hits, a niche audience that decreased to 50/750 through 2018-2019. The numbers of 2020 suggest a smaller community of readers again, though these numbers may still rise a bit in the next few months before the median works are forgotten.

The statistic that tells a different story is Comments. Looking at the total comments counts, there isn’t a drop after Series 3 (2014). Instead, the fandom compensated for changing numbers with more feedback and discussion attached to works. This is reflected in the median comment rate as well, which shows seasonal variation but doesn’t really drop off until 2020.

It’s remarkable that without fresh canon we continue to have new creators contributing to the fandom, and while that may be outpacing the readership somewhat, the standard of engagement has been very high. One could say the fandom is chugging along quite nicely!

What about Tags

So, with all that turnover and shifting population, is there a change in the kinds of works being posted? We can look at tags, all tags and freeform tags, to see if there were any meaningful trends.

First up, I did a creator-wave like analysis of works just for tags, to see how tags continue to be used after being introduced. Unlike the creators, tags clearly persist for years. After 2015, it looks like the core tag set has been established, with very few tags persisting in usage per subsequent year.

This graph reports numbers over time that are not proportional to the number of works or creators active. Instead, works on AO3 have been getting more and more tags over the years, with the average steadily growing from 5 in 2011 to 15 in 2020, with freeform tags (not characters or ships) from 2 to 8.

To get a sense of fic and tagging culture changes over time, I counted the most popular NEW tags of each year (wave). Note: this analysis is using exact matches, not the networked associations of tag meanings wrangled into AO3 today, so some things that pop up aren’t new concepts but instead newly popular TAGs for whatever they represent.

2011: 2752 (First year, so all solid stuff, tags that continue to be popular forever)

Angst 323

Fluff 232

Humor 216

Hurt/Comfort 188

Romance 168

Friendship 168

Crossover 138

Crack 121

Alternate Universe 119

First Time 106

2012: 11637 (still early, first references to Series 2)

Fluff and Angst 145

Episode: s02e03 The Reichenbach Fall 97

Kid Sherlock 54

Puppies 50

Sad 48

Episode: s02e01 A Scandal in Belgravia 47

Mathematics 42

Season 2 spoilers 38

Omega Verse 38

Feels 38

2013: 16176 (Omegaverse nomenclature is growing, Top/Bottom terminology, new challenges)

Alpha Sherlock 65

Omega John 61

30 Day OTP Challenge 59

Tumblr: letswritesherlock 56

Top John 49

Sherlock Holmes Returns after Reichenbach 44

Bottom Sherlock 40

Reichenbach Angst 30

Don't copy work to another site 29

Age Regression/De-Aging 27

2014: 19256 (Mostly Series 3 related

Episode: s03e03 His Last Vow 249

Episode: s03e02 The Sign of Three 167

Post-His Last Vow 149

His Last Vow Spoilers 142

Sherlock Series 3 Spoilers 128

2000 AU 100

The Sign of Three Spoilers 74

Fatlock 72

Post-The Sign of Three 66

Post-Season/Series 03 57

2015: 14272 (New challenges, new prominent Sherlolly tags)

Chats 47

International Fanworks Day 2015 34

Watson's Woes July Writing Prompts 2015 27

S3 referenced 25

Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper Kissing 22

English Accent 22

Sound cloud 19

Eventual Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper 19

Protective John Watson 18

but not that kind of graphic 17

2016: 13517 (New stylistic tagging, TAB references, a lot of epilepsy?)

Slowwww burn 92

John Watson Loves Sherlock Holmes 37

Sherlock Holmes Loves John Watson 33

post-tab 30

JME 27

Post TAB 25

Juvenile Myoclonic Epilepsy 23

Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2016 19

epileptic 19

fraternal love 17

2017: 15067 (Series 4 tags and challenges)

Episode: s04e02 The Lying Detective 133

Episode: s04e01 The Six Thatchers 93

Post TFP 73

Sherlock Series 4 Spoilers 69

Episode: s04e03 The Final Problem 60

Post-Episode: s04e02 The Lying Detective 55

Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2017 50

Post S4 48

Sherstrade Month 2017 44

31 Days of Porn Challenge 2017 41

2018: 10733 (Lost of new challenges, seasonal and weekly)

Towel Day 2018 64

Mystrade Valentines Calendar 2018 25

Kinktober 2018 23

Pregnant Molly Hooper 23

Soft Smut Sunday 23

Tom Robbins 23

Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2018 21

Inktober 2018 20

established universe 16

Always1895 16

2019: 7785 (More prompts, and character attitudes)

Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2019 25

221B Autumn Challenge 21

A-Z Christmas Prompt 19

KatsJohnlockXmas2019 16

Whumptober 11

Poor Greg Lestrade �� 11

Kinktober 2019 10

Dissonance 10

John Watson is a Good Friend 9

Sleepy Sherlock Holmes 8

2020: 8074 (Not all COVID related, thank heavens)

Mystrade Monday 59

COVID-19 48

Coronavirus 46

Mystrade Monday Prompts 40

Whumptober 2020 36

warning for a covid-19 setting 33

Flufftober prompts 2020 24

Do Not Translate 24

they're all right they're just at home 23

Granada Sherlolly 21

A little note from looking across all freeform tags, not just the new ones, we see a curious pattern with regards to two actions: First Kiss and Anal Sex. They appear amongst the most common tags as of 2014, neck in neck for two years, than Anal Sex drops off the top ten in 2016. From there out, First Kiss stays in the top 5 from that point on, while anal sex appears at rank 9 from 2017-2019 and is gone again in 2020. This probably says something about the fandom, somehow.

Bravo for making it to the end and thank you for reading!

Questions/comments welcome.

#Fandom stats #Sherlock #AO3 #Graphs #python

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dlrconlicense · 4 years ago

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Sherlolly Fanfic Week Day 1

In case you have not checked it out yet, Case Insolvent by thedragonaunt is an awesome, awesome WIP. Set post The Final Problem, it is an exciting thriller on what if Eurus' incarceration was not all it appears to be. Sherlock seeks answers while trying to navigate the new dynamic post incident with everyone, especially Molly. It's a long fic, but I get so excited whenever I get the update notification to see what twists and turns the author comes up with. I cannot wait for the ending.

#Sherlolly #BBC Sherlock #thedragonaunt #sherlollyficweek2021

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holidaysat221b · 5 years ago

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Halloween at 221B Is Back!

Welcome to 13 Days of Sherlolly Halloween. From October 19th to Halloween night, we will be showcasing your Halloween or supernatural themed Sherlolly fic and art.

Is there a ghost haunting 221B? A vampire stalking the halls of St. Barts Hospital? Were the Hounds of Baskerville secretly lead by an unknowing Henry Knight, werewolf? Or is it all fancy dress shenanigans on a Halloween night?

Is there a Halloween gala or a blood thirsty ghoul? A flirty fancy dress gathering at Baker Street or a monstrous regiment of women impersonating a vengeful ghost bride? Scary or smutty? Silly or sweet? The Fest is open to it all.

Works can be any rating, any length, any genre, and any medium (art, fic, knitted dolls, videos, etc). However, they must be a Sherlolly work with a Halloween and/or supernatural theme.

We will open posting on the Halloween at 221B – A Sherlolly Celebration collection at Ao3 on October 19th and close it after midnight on October 31th. Authors/artists will be welcome to post their works to the community at any time while it is open. Any works added to the collection will also be shared and featured on the @holidaysat221b tumblr during that period.

Please make note of the change to Rule #6 below. It’s a huge change from years past.

Once the fest is over, all works will be added to the Halloween Masterlist. (http://holidaysat221b.tumblr.com/master_list_halloween)

If you have any questions, feel free to message the mod or submit an ask. Please have a look at the rules below the Read More.

The Rules:

1) Must be on theme in some way – Halloween, fall, supernatural

2) Sherlolly must be the main pairing (it does not need to be a romantic pairing), but other ships are welcomed.

3) The collection can be found at http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Sherlolly_Halloween_At_221B_2020. Please note that this is a subcollection. Please do not post your fic to the parent collection (http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Sherlolly_Halloween_At_221B) as that contains the 2016 fics.

4) To add your work to the Ao3 collection: Post your fic to Ao3 as you normally would, but in the “Post to Collections / Challenges” box you need to type Sherlolly_Halloween_At_221B_2020. This should add your work to the 2020 Halloween at 221B – A Sherlolly Celebration collection. If you have any problems, please message a mod so we can help you out.

5) Multi-chapter fics are welcome to post over a period of days, but please have the final chapter posted prior to the first of November if possible (things happen, we understand).

6) Any fic/art that began posting sometime between November 1st, 2019 and midnight on October 31st, 2020 is eligible for inclusion in this collection. Let’s do something new for our final year – Any fic that meets the other requirements will be eligible for inclusion or reblogging. Regardless of when you originally posted it. If you wrote a vampire fic in June (for example), and would like to have it featured in this year's 13 Days of Sherlolly Halloween Celebration, feel free to add it to the collection. Have a ghostly drawing from six years ago, we’d love to see it. Already on the list from years past? We can showcase it again if you’d like.

7) Tag your ships. Improperly tagged fics may be deleted.

8) If you want to post your work on Tumblr, please @holidaysat221b if possible and tag it with ‘2020 sherlolly halloween’ somewhere in the first five tags.

9) If you want to participate but don’t want to post to Ao3, feel free to send a mod a link to your work, wherever it’s at, and we’ll add it to the master list on @holidaysat221b.

10) Unfortunately, fics or artwork meant for Halloween at 221B – A Sherlolly Celebation that are not added to the collection, properly tagged on Tumblr, or directly submitted to a mod may not be seen and therefore added to the Masterlist or featured on @holidaysat221b. If you would like your work to be included, you must let us know it exists via submitting to the collection, using the Tumblr tag, @holidaysat221b, or messaging us directly.

Please join in the fun!!!

We want to give a HUGE thanks to @mel-loves-all for making the amazing graphic above!

#sherlolly #2020 sherlolly halloween #sherlolly halloween at 221b #fest graphic by @mel-loves-all

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englandsgray · 5 years ago

Text

Sherlolly Self-Interviews 2020

Well hi 👋

Ignoring the internal image of Gilderoy Lockheart smiling smugly while flashbulbs pop and saying ‘In my autobiography, Magical Me...’ 🙈😆 I shall take the opportunity of this lovely event to introduce myself as a writer of Sherlolly fanfiction on AO3...

I am English and somewhere over 30. I watched the show as it aired, and lost my heart as quickly to Molly Hooper as to Sherlock Holmes. The kiss is British television history. Series 4 is my favourite. Moriarty on the beach is life. The Holmes brothers break my heart every time.

I am extremely lucky to have been provided some questions to answer here by @ohaine and @mybrainrots - huge, huge love and thanks to these two lovelies, and not just for this. I admire you both so much as writers, and your support means the world to me ❤️ Thanks too, to @sherlollyappreciationweek!

Where did you begin to write, and have you written for other fandoms? I wrote my first fanfic when I was eleven years old - a 100 page ramble about The Monkees. Oh yes. Then in 2018, I fell for the characters of the Disney Pixar film Cars and began writing and publishing. So far so random! Writing in this fandom sprang from binge-watching all four series of Sherlock during lockdown. I remembered reading Louise Brealey talking about being disappointed Molly didn’t get chance to ‘roundly kick Sherlock’s arse’ and agreeing with her wholeheartedly. That, over a few weeks, turned into my first fic - Who You Really Are.

You’re a recent (and welcome!) arrival to the Sherlolly ship, and I was wondering if writing in an established, less active than it used to be fandom has been a challenge? Thank you, firstly. My experience of this fandom has been incredibly positive - the sense of welcome has been wonderful. I will admit I was terrified posting the first fic - there are hundreds of times more stories posted daily in the Sherlock fandom as in the one I had some experience of. But I needn’t have worried, it’s been a blast. I will also admit, that it’s no small thing to be surrounded by such brilliant writing and the long-standing passion which goes with it. But I find that inspiring in itself, and I’m very glad to be here - how supportive the fandom are makes me feel like I always have been!

What’s your favourite place and way to write? My aesthetic is Lin-Manuel Miranda in his in-law’s laundry room 🤣 I wrote my first ten-thousand words on the notes app on my phone before my other half told me to stop being ridiculous! I switch between the laptop, my phone and longhand (I’m a sucker for a nice notepad and a Uni-Ball Eye) and, more often than not, not sat up properly at a table.

Since you’ve (done something I’ve never managed successfully and) written a novella length fic... how did you organise/keep track of all the details and where you wanted the story to go? Did you outline/plot in advance? First of all - I would love to see a novella length fic from you @mybrainrots! The final scene of Who You Really Are came to me very early on and I knew I wanted the fic to fit within TFP - a lot of it takes place in the timeframe of the final montage. At first, it was going to be much more about Sherlock’s relationship with the ideas of sentiment and love (the phrase ‘I’m not sentimental about you, I love you,’ haunted me for a while) and I spent some time researching the psychology and playing with scenes from throughout the series - one of my favourites I didn’t go on to use was inspired by the final scene of THoB. Using scenes from the canon gave an automatic structure, and I was always aiming for the final one I wrote early on - the two of them on the beach (everything is about the beach, with me!) As I went along and started, inevitably, to slow down, I mapped out the chapters with a short note of what I wanted to be in each, then would add notes or phrases as they came to me - often emailed from my phone! I had to force myself through a tricky section set in Baker Street at one point, but it came together in the end. I did plot The Pathologist’s Skeletons on paper first, as I found with a casefic which remains a WIP, that I can get confused and lose focus when it comes to details and how to reveal them in a way which stays paced and interesting. I’ll certainly do that from now on with longer stories and cases. How did you keep up enthusiasm for the work? I want to write an original novel, so I am forcing myself to work through the knotty bits and blocks as a learning experience. Not everything is destined to be finished or finessed, of course, but I’m finding this process is building my confidence that I can overcome problems and slow periods. I also find I know when I need some external inspiration - some of my favourite scenes have come to me while out walking the dog or sitting on the beach. I’ve also been inspired by books or other series or things going on in the world, as we all are, and sometimes that’s pushed me on. Plus, of course, I’m a newbie - I’m very much in the honeymoon period of my writing, even though I’ve loved Sherlock for ten years! (Ten years! Bonkers.)

You’ve got a knack for writing Sherlock’s thoughts and capturing his voice. That said, which character do you find easiest to write? Which is the hardest? Thank you so much. I absolutely love writing Sherlock and Mycroft, and I’m sure that’s because they suit my somewhat over-the-top writing style! I find Molly and her POV really difficult. I want the scenes I write from her perspective to sound completely different to Sherlock, but that means writing in a style which doesn’t come as naturally to me. I’m a long way off happy with that at the moment, but I’m enjoying the challenge.

Is there a scene or character that specifically inspired you to start writing Sherlolly? The whole of TFP, but especially from the moment Sherlock arrives at Musgrave onwards. I am desperate to see what a Sherlock Holmes who has been reacquainted with his own heart would look like. I find his emotionality in those final scenes hugely compelling (Mycroft’s office is one of my favourite moments from across all four series) and, as I have always believed in him and Molly, I practically jumped up back in May after watching it and said ‘right, where’s my notebook?!’.

There’s a lovely peaceful, quiet feeling to your fic ‘We’re All Right At The Moment’. Can you tell us what inspired it and if you’ve thought of doing the backstory that goes with it? Thank you! Like everyone, I would go back to January of this year and start again in a heartbeat, but I am hugely fortunate to be able to say that I have a lot to be grateful to the UK lockdowns for. I might never have begun writing in this fandom otherwise, for one, and I have had a brilliant time so far and met some lovely people. Honestly, I don’t feel able to do any sort of justice in my writing to what has happened in the world in any broader sense than drawing on my own experiences of staying at home and enjoying my family. This particular super-short fic sees Molly cutting Sherlock’s hair at home in Baker Street. I wrote it in the evening after I had cut my other half’s hair and had been reminding myself that despite how horribly worried I was - and still am - about everything, we were all right in that moment, and to focus on that as much as possible. I wanted to try to capture that, if for no reason other than to look back on this entire experience and remember something lovely, so I am so pleased to hear you felt the fic did that. It was only after I finished it and reread it, that I realised it is ambiguous as to whether Molly is worried about Sherlock contracting the virus, or whether she is remembering him being treated for it... As I say, I don’t think I could write more about these extraordinary circumstances - perhaps it’s just too close at the moment - so I don’t plan on extending it. But you know how it is, the plot bunnies hop where they will...

Do you have a Sherlolly music playlist? What are your top five favs from the list? Here’s a run down of (6 🙊) songs I have been getting emotional over in the last little while, leading my brain to assign their significance to my favourite couple...

Kissing You - Des’Ree - It’s so 90′s, it’s a bit cheesy, it’s oddly disturbing. It helped me write A Request, Made Properly, and that gave me an excuse to have Sherlock kiss Molly in the snow.

How Long Will I Love You? - Ellie Goulding - part of the playlist, but also in remembrance of a friend who passed away recently. Life is very short, love is forever.

High and Dry - Jamie Cullum - It’s made me emotional for a very long time. The original is my partner’s version of choice, this is mine.

Think About You - Delta Goodrem - Okay, this one isn’t emotional, and it’s not my usual vibe! Blame the zoom exercise class I do! But oh my goodness, it’s Molly. Bless her.

Blinded By Your Grace (P.T.2. F.T. MNEK) - Stormzy - One of the best ever, I reckon. Spent an awful lot of time thinking about angels and demons, grace and what it takes to save someone, while writing my latest - The Pathologist’s Skeletons. This has been in my head most of the (blimmin’) time!

Love Me Like You Do - Ellie Goulding - I didn’t know I was a fan of Ellie until I wrote this list... I don’t subscribe to the theory that the love Molly wants or that which Sherlock has to offer is any lesser because it isn’t ‘normal’ or expected. I don’t think romantic entanglement would come easy to either of them. But it’s still love and it would be beautiful.

Thank you so much for reading. Thanks and love to @ohaine and @mybrainrots. And thank you @sherlollyappreciationweek for the event and for everything you do ❤️

Feel like I should sign off with a quote from the show...

“You’re not a puzzle-solver, you never have been. You’re a drama queen!” Dr John Watson (Moffat & Gatiss) 2014 😜

A fav fic of mine by @mybrainrots

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7563193

A fav fic of mine by @ohaine

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10562904

My stuff:

https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnglandsGray/works

#sherlolly #sherlollyselfinterview20 #sherlock #sherlockbbc #writing #fanfic #ao3 #ao3 author #read on ao3

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